Apocalypse Atlanta

by Rogers, David

  “As Governor Deal requested, I’d like to again ask that all questions be held. I will tell you everything I can, which is to say, everything the CDC knows at this time.”

  “Big Chief.” Bobo said abruptly, turning and looking around the bar.

  “Yo?” Big Chief said from behind Darryl.

  Bobo pointed the remote at the television and lowered the volume several notches. “You driving your truck today?”

  “Huh? Nah man, got my bike.”

  “Okay. I’m thinking we ought to head on out to the clubhouse.” Bobo said. “Maybe start the party tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow afternoon. And I think having the truck would be a good idea.”

  Big Chief seemed a little puzzled, but he shrugged after a couple of moments. “Sure, I guess.”

  “Everyone else, unless you got something better to be doing, I’d say you ought to come along out to Watkinsville tonight.” Bobo said, raising his voice a bit further so everyone could hear him.

  “Fuck man, I got work in a couple of hours.” Darryl said.

  “Ain’t gonna be no work.” Bobo said, pointing at the television. “You heard the man, right? He shutting everything down ‘cause of this problem or whatever.”

  Darryl hesitated, then took his phone out. “Let me give Aaron a call and see what he says.”

  Bobo seemed a little exasperated, disappointed, but he just nodded. “Well, I ain’t waiting around here too long. I’m gonna take me a piss, then I’m gonna fill my bike up and ride on out. Anyone who coming needs to get their shit in gear.”

  “Hold up.” Low said. “We spreading the word out on this or what?”

  “How you mean?” Big Chief asked.

  Low shrugged. “Like, we going out there because things maybe getting bad here, right? So what about my momma and kid sister?”

  “What about them?”

  “If we bailing out of the city ‘cause it ain’t safe, then they need to bail too.”

  Bobo studied him for a moment, then flicked his eyes across the other Dogz. “Yeah, you right. Call your momma, or go get her. We got room.”

  “Not that much room.” Zeebo pointed out.

  “Then we make some.” Bobo shrugged. “Tents or something.”

  “Shit.”

  “I ain’t wanna hear no more bitching about it. Call family, but only family. No friends or friends of friends. If they ain’t a Dog or a blood relative, then they ain’t coming.” Bobo said. “We can make some room, but there a limit.”

  Darryl turned away from the old Dog and stuck his finger in his ear as his phone call was picked up. “Yo, Shelia.” he said when he heard a woman’s voice answer over the sound of loud music on the other end. “It DJ.”

  “Hey DJ, how you doing?”

  “Fine.” Darryl said. “Listen, where Aaron at?”

  “I dunno, in the back doing something I think.”

  “Y’all seen the news yet?”

  “You know you can’t hear nothing over the music.” Shelia chided him.

  Darryl grimaced. The Oasis had a lot of televisions, always tuned into sports of some kind just like here at the Del Rey. Obviously no one had taken any particular note of what was happening. “I need to talk to Aaron.”

  “Alright. Hang on.” Shelia said, and the call was put on hold.

  “I’m just saying, we ought to maybe bring some supplies if we gonna camp out there all weekend.” Shooter was saying to Big Chief. “We can stop somewhere in Loganville maybe, there a lot of places all long 78 out there.”

  “Man, I’ll bring the truck, sure.” Big Chief said with a little irritation evident in his tone. “But I’m loading my bike up in the back. Then there the tool box. And who gonna pay for all this?”

  “You know the brothers gonna chip in.” Shooter said reasonably.

  “They better.” Big Chief said darkly. “I ain’t fronting no three day party on my own dime.”

  “DJ.” The phone was off hold, and he could only hear the faintest amount of music coming from the call now.

  Darryl yanked his attention back to the phone. “Aaron.”

  “You better be in the hospital or something.” Aaron said, sounding annoyed. “If you’re calling to skip out on me, and on a holiday weekend Friday too.”

  “I ain’t sick.” Darryl said, thinking ‘yet’. “But I guess you ain’t seen the news?”

  “What news?”

  “You in your office?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Get on the computer I guess. Check out what the governor just said.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me.” Aaron said.

  “You gonna check it, so might as well start now.” Darryl answered. “But there a curfew going up at 5 tonight. All businesses are supposed to close.”

  “What?” Aaron half yelled.

  “Like I said, check the news. I just saw it on the teevee, live broadcast.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Aaron said angrily. “Labor Day weekend, college football starting with games here in town, fucking tourists and shit all over the place looking to party, and you’re telling me I’m supposed to close up?”

  Darryl shrugged. “That what the man done said.”

  “Fucking hell. There better be a real good punch line here somewhere DJ, cause I’m not laughing so far.”

  “It ain’t no joke.” Darryl protested. “I told you to check.”

  “Oh I’m checking.” Aaron said. “And if this ain’t for real, you better be here for your shift.”

  “It’ll check out.” Darryl said. “If it does, you closing up, right?” There was a long silence. “I mean, if there a curfew, you gotta close don’t ya?”

  “I guess.” Aaron said finally, and Darryl could hear the resentment and unhappiness simmering in the man’s voice.

  “Okay, so I’ll keep an eye on the news.” Darryl said. “And if the curfew gets lifted, I’ll give you a ring, okay?”

  “Yeah.” Aaron said, now sounding distracted.

  “Okay then.” Darryl hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “Good luck.”

  “Whatever.”

  Darryl heard Aaron hang up, and tapped the button on his phone that put it back into standby. He wondered what had prompted him to add the good luck. It wasn’t like the world was ending or anything.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four – For your own safety, please stay home

  Jessica

  “Jessica?” the firefighter asked, looking very rushed and frazzled, but also very worried and concerned, as he stopped.

  Jessica didn’t respond, staring blanking at the side of the fire truck in front of her. There were tear stains on her face, mixed in with her eyeliner and trailing down her cheeks in black and tan streaks as her makeup ran The firefighter tried again. “Jessica? Mrs. Talbot? Hello, are you okay?” Jessica still remained sitting, her eyes fixed on nothing, as if the vehicles and people weren’t even there.

  “Mommy.” Candice said in a small voice, shaking Jessica’s hand. “Mommy, there’s a fireman here.”

  The sound of her daughter’s voice seemed to break through the fugue state that had enveloped Jessica, penetrating the horrified shock that had wrapped her mind and soul as a defense. Jessica stirred, blinked, then slowly turned her head to look at Candice. The little girl was sitting next to her on the curb on the far side of the parking lot. When Jessica looked at her, Candice pointed.

  Shifting her gaze, Jessica tracked her leaden eyes right, then up along the legs and body of the firefighter. When her eyes settled on the man’s face, she blinked again as recognition flared in a small piece of her mind that hadn’t completely shut down. “Steve.” she said in a dull voice. “I haven’t seen you since . . . shortly after the funeral I guess.”

  The firefighter knelt down, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Jessica, are you alright?” His eyes traveled across her, seeming to fixate on the blood that was on Jessica’s blouse. “Are you injured?”

  Jessica blinked again, then lo
oked down at herself. There was blood on her clothing, smears of it on her left sleeve up near the shoulder. She didn’t remember being hurt. Then she remembered, Alicia had been hurt. Alicia had hugged her. Jessica managed a slight shrug. “I’m fine, that’s not my blood.”

  “Are you sure? What about you bunny rabbit? Are you hurt anywhere?” Steve said, looking at Candice, who shook her head quickly.

  “Are you sure?” the firefighter repeated, smiling at Candice. “It’s okay, I’m a fireman. I help people. I was friends with your daddy.”

  Candice made a little sound, and clutched at Jessica’s arm, turning her head behind her mother. Jessica’s face changed, and she looked fiercely at the man kneeling in front of them. “Don’t talk about Brett, not right now. Not after …” she trailed off, looking involuntarily in the direction of the school entrance. It was again hidden behind the mass of rescue vehicles that filled the parking lot, but she knew. She knew what lay beyond them.

  Steve flinched as if she’d hit him, but he maintained his reassuring smile. “Okay, I’m sorry. But you’ve got to talk to me Jessica. What’s wrong?”

  Jessica blinked again, and felt fresh tears well out of her eyes. The gentle wind that was gusting through the parking lot felt very cold on the tears glistening on her face, and she shook her head slightly. “Joey. Sandra.” she said after a moment, as Steve waited.

  The man’s face changed, suddenly twisted with sorrow. “Oh no.” he said quietly, and Jessica felt her tears flowing again. It was all could do to hold herself from breaking into full out, anguished sobs. She had to be strong, she had to be strong for Candice. She glanced down, but her daughter still had her head buried in the back of Jessica’s arm. She couldn’t see her mother crying again. Jessica swiped hastily at her face, and drew a deep breath.

  “Where are they?” Steve asked, looking over his shoulder. The shooting had stopped a little while ago, and Jessica had been forced away by a female paramedic who’d been shouting something about Candice not needing to see what was happening. But before she’d been led away, and left here on the curb, Jessica had seen police wading into the dozens, dozens upon dozens, of students they’d shot, brandishing fistfuls of zip ties.

  The injured teenagers had silently, but persistently, continued to fight against the police; and it took two or three officers to restrain, drag out, and bind each victim’s hands behind their backs. Then the police had quickly realized that wasn’t enough, and started tying the student’s ankles too.

  The teenagers were left in a long line on the grass next to the wall of the school, still writhing, some of them inching forward even without use of their limbs. Even with the gunshot wounds that decorated their legs, and in some cases their abdomens where an officer’s aim had been off or rushed. None of them seemed to mind the wounds, they just kept trying to get at anyone near them; anyone who was still walking and talking.

  They seemed to completely ignore each other. It was beyond the pale that as many gunshot wounds as had been inflicted hadn’t killed some of them, hadn’t at least caused someone to start crying and screaming in pain. But they remained silent, passive save for their constant effort to move.

  “They’re over there.” Jessica said, gesturing at where she knew the victims were being kept. “My son, and my other daughter. Lying on the grass, shot by the police, and trying to . . . to . . .”

  Steve reached out and squeezed her shoulder again. “I know.” he said quietly. “I know.” He left it unsaid, apparently as equally unwilling as Jessica to voice the unthinkable. Rumors were starting to spread, probably started, and egged on, by the students who were not among the victims. Jessica had heard the word zombie, drifting on the breeze, swirling through the rumble of idling images and background of conversation, more times in the last twenty minutes than she had ever expected to outside of a horror movie’s review.

  “Listen. Jessica. Listen.” He shook her slightly, and Jessica frowned as she pulled her gaze, unwillingly, from the direction where she knew her other children were. She found him staring intently at her. “You need to listen to me. Are you tracking, can you hear me?”

  “I hear you.” Jessica said, feeling a little annoyed at his tone. She was not a child, and having him talk to her like she was one irked her. But she couldn’t seem to summon up enough emotion to actually get angry at him. She felt so cold, so very cold, like nothing really mattered. First Brett, and now this.

  “Okay, listen then. You need to go home. If you’re not hurt, you need to take your daughter and go home. This is not the place you should be.”

  That did give her enough fuel to power a spark of anger, and Jessica’s voice was sharp as she glared at him. “My kids, my Joey and my Sandra, are here. My husband is . . .” she cut that off before she said it, feeling Candice at her side. “My place is here. I’m their mother.”

  Steve shook his head. “No, you’re not listening to me.” he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small pad, then a pen. Clicking it, he wrote something on the pad. “The CDC has declared the entire area a medical hazard zone.”

  “What area?” Jessica asked, confused.

  “Atlanta. Everything.” Steve said, tearing the paper off the pad and grabbing her free hand. “The entire metro area. Whatever’s happening, they don’t know what it is. They recommended, and the governor has agreed, that until we can get a handle on this, the best thing is for everyone to go home and stay safe.” he thrust the paper into her hand and forcibly closed her fingers around it.

  “What about my k-k-kids?” Jessica said, unable to keep her voice from breaking. A swell of willpower she didn’t know she had held back the sobs yet again, and she blinked rapidly to keep from bursting into fresh tears.

  “Use that.” Steve said, raising her wrist in his hand so that the piece of paper was in front of her face. “That’s the number to the CDC hotline, the CDC website, and the State of Georgia DHS number.”

  Jessica looked at the crumpled paper in her hand, then shifted her fingers and got it flattened out enough to peer at. She saw phone numbers and an internet URL written on it. Steve continued speaking as she stared at the inked numbers and letters like they were something foreign and unrecognizable.

  “CDC is taking control of the response. They’ll be handling everything. Anyone who’s a victim, they’ll be making the arrangements to house and care for them until they figure out what’s going on and what can be done. That’s how you get in touch with them.”

  “I need to be with them.” Jessica began, but Steve grabbed her shoulders and shook her sharply.

  “Listen. To. Me.” he said sharply. She blinked at him, and he shifted his hands to her face, holding her head between his hands and leaning in until he was almost nose to nose with her. “Brett was my friend. I know we’ve drifted apart since he died, but he wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you here like this. He wouldn’t want me to just stand by and not do something.”

  Jessica was blinking rapidly, feeling the tears still threatening to erupt and shatter her tenuous semblance of control. Steve leaned closer still, almost hugging her, as he put his mouth right in her ear, her left ear, on the side furthest from Candice. “You still have a child who needs you. Brett’s child. Your child. You have to take care of her.” he whispered urgently. “Can you do that? For Brett?”

  Drawing a deep breath, Jessica closed her eyes, exhaled, then drew another one, more slowly. “You’re right.” she whispered.

  “Okay.” Steve said, sitting back on his haunches and releasing her. He studied her as she wiped her face one more time, then stood up as she shifted. Reaching down, he held out his hand and waited patiently while she turned to Candice.

  “Candy Bear, get up. We’re going home.” Jessica said, reaching across herself awkwardly to stroke her fingers across her daughter’s hair.

  Candice lifted her head out of the side of Jessica’s arm, looking fearfully up at her mother. “What about Joey and Sandy?” she asked in a quavering voice.<
br />
  “The firemen and doctors are going to look after them.” Jessica said, keeping her voice even, almost the tiniest bit cheerful, with enormous and heart shattering effort. She also managed a slight smile as she looked down at Candice. “They’re sick, and they can’t come home right now.”

  “But we’re going home?”

  “Yes. So get up, okay?”

  Candice nodded, and Jessica looked up at Steve, who was still standing in front of her with his hand outstretched. She put her in his, and he gripped and pulled her to her feet with one strong arm. Candice rose, mostly under her own power, but leaning and pulling a little on Jessica’s hand, which she continued to cling to tightly.

  “Where’s your car?” Steve asked once Jessica and Candice were on their feet.

  “Down the street, past the elementary school.” Jessica said, nodding in that direction. “Unless they towed it. I guess I’ll call a cab if that happened.”

  “Okay, off you go then.” Steve said, patting her hand before releasing his grip. “Come find me if you can’t get home for any reason and I’ll figure it out, but go home if you can.”

  Jessica nodded and started walking, then stopped and turned back. “Steve.” she called. He had started for the front of the school, but stopped and looked at her. “Thank you.” she mouthed.

  Steve smiled confidently, and nodded to her, then made a shooing motion. Jessica faced front again, and resumed walking. She led Candice out of the parking lot, past the cluster of teachers and students that were gathered on the sidewalk, and headed down the street. Candice said nothing, and Jessica didn’t either, as they walked downhill, then up and past the elementary school. It looked largely the same as the high school, though there were fewer police cruisers there.

  When she neared the roadblock, she saw it had been increased to three police cruisers and five officers. A very large crowd of people were gathered there, and though the panic was still visible, it wasn’t the hysterical, out of control thing that was happening in the school parking lots. That was probably only because they didn’t know exactly what was happening at the schools.