by Lucas Coon
"All clear." Darren gave the go ahead to Mitchell. They both exited the doorway and slowly proceeded towards the entrance. The glass doors that were meant to protect the insides of the company were completely destroyed. Mitchell guessed that the infected had smashed through them to get in. This was the most likely scenario that Mitchell could come up with. Darren stepped slowly through the shattered glass on the floor and steadily made his way to the door. Mitchell followed close behind. As they passed the reception desk and got to the now emptied door frame, they both peered outside at the empty streets.
The sun's light hit them both hard as they looked out into the vast wasteland. While there was plenty of natural light that shined through the third story window, it was nothing in comparison to standing out in the sun. Mitchell had been out only a couple of days ago but for Darren it had been much longer. He looked up into the sky and squinted. He placed his hand over his eyes to block some of the light, but continued looking up.
"It's interesting, you know." Darren turned to look at Mitchell.
"What's that?" Mitchell's curiosity forced him to take the bait.
"Well, even though we get plenty of light up there, and can clearly see the sky, it's not what I expected. In my mind, the empty streets, vacant buildings and overall chaos should result in an ominous red sky facing down at the Earth. Yet, here we are. Outside on the sidewalk, looking at the same crystal blue sky as always. The same clouds, the same sun, the same everything. Nothing has changed. Not a damn thing has changed but us. The clouds are still blowing across the sky. The sun is still beaming down on the pavement. It's honestly hilarious. Anytime I thought about apocalyptic situations, I always pictured hell, you know? I always thought of blood skies, burning buildings, and fire pouring up endless chasms that formed out of cracks in the street." He grinned at Mitchell. "Instead, we get a normal day. It's sunny, about eighty something degrees, with the occasional breeze." He almost looked disappointed. Mitchell thought about it for a moment and pondered on what he always saw the Armageddon as being. That wasn't to say that this was the end of the world, but it sure felt like it.
"I always thought that it would just happen." He looked back at Darren. "Like one minute we'd be here, and the next it would all just be gone. Quick and painless. At noon, families would be barbecuing, kids would be on swings with parents pushing them, and people would be driving to get lunch. Then at a minute after twelve, poof, gone." This was the best he could offer for his thoughts on the matter. He never considered it in detail, but this was more likely to him than flaming street cracks. "Fun fact, well, fun to me, the human brain is supposedly eighty milliseconds behind. This means that what we see, feel, hear, taste and such all happened eighty milliseconds ago. It's weird to think about because if we were just to up and disappear, it would happen and we would still be alive for eighty milliseconds after we died." He chuckled. Darren had a confused look on his face. "Sorry, I always opened the first class of the year with that statement. Since I taught about the past, I always thought it was cool to tell the freshman that we were living in the past at any given moment. It's irrelevant now." He shook the smile off his face. "Anyways, the restaurant should be in that direction." Mitchell pointed down the street. He could see the sign sticking up from the building.
"Well, are you ready? We're already out here, may as well make the most of it, right?" Darren smirked. He took the lead again. They stayed close to the building and walked towards the fast-food restaurant. They paused for a moment. There was a crashing noise coming from the alley between the office and the building next to it. They could easily cross the street and not worry about it, but that would put them at risk of being seen if there was an infected. Their best bet was to check the alley quickly and potentially kill anything that came out at them. They poised themselves against the building.
"No chance you'd want to take the gun and look, huh Mitch?" Darren sarcastically offered Mitchell the shotgun. He just shook his head. "OK, fair enough." Darren peered around the corner to see what the source of the noise was. There was a man standing in the shadows ripping open trash bags and throwing their contents into a pile. It looked like it was attempting to create a bed out of the trash. Darren was certain that it was an infected attempting to nest. He pulled himself back against the wall and looked at Mitchell.
"Infected?" Mitchell whispered. Darren winced and nodded. "OK, so what now?"
"On the count of three, I'm going to turn the corner and shoot him. Then we run. Sound good?" This was a desperate plan, but it sounded like it might work. They both stood with their backs poised flat against the wall.
"Alright. One…" There was another loud crash. This was followed by a scream. Darren flinched and pulled away from the corner for a moment. After a couple of seconds, nothing happened. They both assumed it was the infected ripping open another trash bag, or something of that nature.
"Let's try this again, shall we? One." They both stood still. Mitchell could feel the sweat building on his brow and palms.
"Two." The air grew thicker and every second more tense. They both knew what happened at three but neither wanted to face the possibilities of being ambushed. Darren took in a deep breath and tried to focus.
"Thr--" As he was about to turn to face into the alley, the infected dashed past him screaming. Both men watched the transformed man run as fast as he could chasing a raccoon out of the alley and into the nearby streets. They both stood with their eyes wide and hearts pounding. The infected kept running, chasing the large rodent into the city. It hadn't even noticed them standing there; it was dead set on catching the raccoon.
After a couple moments of waiting, they both had decided that he wasn't coming back.
"I'm guessing that little guy was his lunch, huh?" Darren chuckled at his own joke. Mitchel grinned back. These were very nervous smiles between the two of them. They both realized how close they came to being attacked. Darren looked around the corner again to make sure that they were in the clear. "We're good for the moment. I'd guess he'll be coming back though, this was definitely his nest." Mitchell agreed. They pressed on to the end of the second building directly across from the restaurant. They stopped and investigated their immediate surroundings. There were a couple of infected down the street from their location. Both focusing on something that Mitchell couldn't see, so they wouldn't be a threat. They both decided that the coast was clear.
They ran quickly to the other side of the street and to the door of the restaurant. The glass to this door was shattered as well which meant that either the infected had broken it down to get in or looters came through for a smash and grab. They stepped through the frame cautiously, making sure not to make too much noise. Mitchell could feel the broken glass shards cracking under his boots. The sound sent chills down his spine.
"It looks pretty empty here as well. The cash registers are still there so I have to assume the damage was from the monsters smashing in. I'm not seeing anyone though, so it looks like they weren't nesting here." They each went a different direction to ensure safety. Darren walked in the direction of the kitchen and Mitchell noticed something in the glass of the window. He moved in closer to investigate.
The glass had a small hole in it. It wasn't large enough to put his finger through, but it was a decent size. Around the hole, the glass had started to fracture. After looking at it closer he realized that it was a bullet hole. "Someone was here." He made the statement in no general direction, he wasn't really saying it to inform Darren, more so just to say it. If there was a bullet hole in the glass, then someone with a gun was there at some point. There was no way of knowing how long the person was here, nor was there any way of knowing if they got out alive. The part that weighed heaviest on Mitchell's mind was the possibility that they may had just missed the poor soul. If they'd gone out yesterday, there was a possibility that they could've added another person to their party, someone with a firearm at that. He dreaded the thought that some random person, someone's husband, son, daughter, o
r wife may have died a horrific and painful death. "At least they fought back." Again, a general statement.
Darren had his hand on the kitchen door when he heard Mitchell say something. "What was that Mitch?" He turned around curious.
"I said there's a bullet hole in this glass. I'd guess that someone was here before us." Mitchell didn't look away from his curious subject. "I hope they got out alive."
"Well, if not, I hope they took out at least one of these nasty bastards." Mitchell hadn't expected this from Darren. He wanted to correct him and tell him that they were still living, but he realized that he was the one that told him they were already dead. There was no way that Darren could've known that they were still alive, still conscious inside their own mind. As his head turned and mouth opened to speak, the kitchen doors behind Darren flung open. The doors hit Darren in the back and knocked him down. He hit the ground hard and the infected that had shoved the door open jumped on top of him. Darren was able to push himself onto his back to hold off the monster, but the infected knew what it wanted. It wasn't looking to infect him, he was its next meal. When the monster had tackled Darren, he dropped his shotgun. It fell behind the counter and just past where the monster was attempting to rip into Darren's face.
"Mitchell!" Darren yelled. He pulled back his arm and threw a right hook into the creature's face. It flinched and hissed back at him. Mitchell stood for a second trying to figure out what to do. To his left was Darren being pinned down by a person that was infected with the parasite, much like he was only a day earlier. He wouldn't stand a chance if he attempted to physically attack it. He looked past Darren. The shotgun was lying just past his feet, if he went for it the monster would more than likely attack him as well. He continued to search for something, anything, to use to help Darren. "Mitchell! Help!" The monster started to reach its hands towards Darren's throat. It was going in to choke him out.
Mitchell frantically looked around when he saw the answer to his question. He grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall and ran at the creature. He swung it as hard as he could, smacking him square in the jaw. The infected fell down onto its back and began flailing. Mitchell watched for a second to see if it was over. Darren pushed himself onto his backside and propped himself against the wall. He looked in horror as the man lying on the floor in front of him began writhing in pain. Mitchell knew what had to be done, he knew it wasn't over. He walked over to where it was laying on the floor. The creature opened its mouth the best it could. It was obvious that the first hit was enough to shatter its jaw, but not enough to kill it. Mitchell stared the man directly in the eyes.
For the moment, everything felt like it was drifting in slow motion. Mitchell watched as the white bug started to pry its way out of the man’s mouth. He watched the man's eyes go from fully dilated, back to normal, straight to a look of pain and fear. He lifted the extinguisher up into the air and continued his eye contact.
"I'm sorry." He swung down and smacked the man in the face. He lifted his arms again. "I'm sorry." Again he thrust down with the extinguisher. He repeated this several times. After several hits, there was little left of the man’s face, and even less left of the parasite. Mitchell looked down at his bloody creation. He threw the extinguisher off to the side and stepped back. "God dammit, I'm sorry." He pushed himself back to the wall and stared down in disbelief of what he had just done. Darren stood up and looked down, then back at Mitchell.
"You saved me Mitch, don't be sorry. He was already dead inside. You just killed the monster, not the man." Darren was trying to be reassuring.
'Just the monster, not the man. He has no idea.' Mitchell thought to himself. He shook his head and tried to shrug it off. "Yeah, you're right." He sniffed in and wiped the tears from his eyes to hide his thoughts from Darren. He looked over his victim. "I'm guessing this is the man that shot our bullet. Based on his suit here, he's a cop."
Darren walked over and grabbed his shot gun. He looked down at the body. "I'd say you're right; he was armed." Darren grabbed the gun off the man’s holster and handed it to Mitchell. "Looks like you're armed now." He smirked.
"Yeah, lucky me." Mitchell wasn't in the mood to be handling another man's firearm, much less the firearm of a fallen police officer. To make matters worse, anytime he used the gun, he'd be reminded that he had smashed the head of another living being. He would see the frightened eyes of the man staring back at him as he prepared for death.
Mitchell pulled the clip. It was almost full; nine rounds were accounted for. Mitchell guessed that the poor man only got one shot off before he was taken over. He felt around his belt and found the backup clip; ten more rounds. This gave Mitchell a total of nineteen shots, nineteen chances in case all hell broke loose. As much as he didn't want to be looting the body of this man, he was doing what he had to.
"You ready to keep going?" Darren looked over at Mitchell concerned.
"Yeah, I'll be alright. Shock, you know?" Mitchell knew that Darren was aware of the feeling to some extent. "If you want to check to make sure the kitchen's clear, I'll be right there." Darren nodded and headed towards the kitchen doors again. He stepped in and looked around.
"All clear in here man." Darren shouted back to Mitchell. Mitchell remained over the body of the police officer. He unpinned the badge from the over shirt; he wanted to know the name of the man that he had just murdered. He held the badge and read the name engraved in brass; Officer Harold Barnes.
Chapter 9 – Decisions Decisions
The words on the badge hovered for a minute as Mitchell felt himself getting dizzy. He leaned against the counter to his right and read it over again. "Officer Harold Barnes." He muttered quietly. "No, there's no way that's him." He thought about it for a few moments. "I mean, there has to be hundreds of men named Harold in the area, and at least a dozen of them would probably be police officers.' He shook it off. He put the badge into his pocket and pushed off to head towards Darren. As he stood the room started spinning again and he stumbled in the direction of the doors. Darren opened them back and looked over to Mitchell.
"Oh no, we're not doing this again." He gave Mitchell an angry look.
"No, no, no. I'm fine. Shock, remember?" He shrugged it off, took a deep breath and exhaled. He shut his eyes and repeated the process a second time. When he opened his eyes the world was still again. "This keeps happening to me. I keep getting dizzy spells, but I think I've gotten a grip on them. Well, with the exception of yesterday when I passed out." He shook his head again.
"Maybe you're getting sick? What were you doing before you got to the office? Were you outside?" Darren had a point. He wasn't in the most comfortable places prior to getting to the office. Maybe he was just getting sick; maybe it was a flu or something.
"We'll get into that story some other time. You're probably right though. It's probably some bug that's going around." Mitchell thought about his sentence and laughed. Darren looked at him confused, then started to chuckle just as hard.
"Nice. A bug going around?" Darren bumped Mitchell with the tip of the shotgun.
"I swear that was an accident. I didn't mean that." He nudged him back. They turned towards the kitchen area and kept going deeper into the restaurant. They swung the loose doors open and looked into the food area. Based on what they were seeing right then and there, no one had raided this place yet.
Mitchell walked over to a shelf and looked over what was sitting there. Chips, buns, jars of pickles. This was a good haul, and this time nothing was going to stop them from getting it home. He started to load up one of the bags with anything he could. He grabbed bags, jars, packets, everything in sight was fair game. Darren continued walking through to the back and got to the small side room that would have been considered the office.
"Oh, damn." He swung his head over to Mitchell. "Looks like this place was more popular than we thought." Mitchell walked over to where Darren was standing and saw what he was referring it. There was another person lying on his side. Neither of them budged
, he wasn't getting up. "I'm guessing he was breakfast." The sight was terrible. The infected that Mitchell had killed was more than likely to blame for the condition of the poor kid's body. Mitchell guessed he wasn't a day older than nineteen. The condition of the kids face was to the point that identification wouldn't have been possible visually, nor through the use of dental records. Mitchell was disgusted, but more so saddened. This man never had a chance at life and he never stood a chance of survival out in this hell. Where was he going, and why hadn't he made the evacuation?
"I mean no disrespect to the dead, but do you think we should grab his backpack? We could really use the extra space for carrying and it would be a shame to leave it unused." Yet again, Darren had a valid point. Mitchell didn't want to rob a dead body, but he surely wasn't going to use it anymore. "Alright, help me out here." Darren lifted the body off the ground as gently as he could. Mitchell slipped the arm strap of the bag off the arm under him, and then pulled the other off. Darren set him back down and stood to look the scene over. "Poor kid, never stood a chance out here, huh?"
Mitchell didn't respond. He opened the front pocket of the backpack to see what he was carrying. He didn't expect much, but he wanted something that would point to where this kid was going. The front pocket was filled with various dried snacks. Raisins, beef jerky, puffed cheese balls, the works. More food was always welcome. He zipped it back up and moved to the next pocket. It had a pair of shoes and an extra shirt. Mitchell pulled the shirt out and looked at it. It was three different shades of green in a camouflaged pattern and sized large. He put it back in the bag just in case. He took the shoes out and left them with the kid’s body. He moved to the last pocket and unzipped it. The only thing in the pocket was a wallet. Mitchell set the bag down on the table and opened the wallet. The ID sat right in the front in a pocket with a clear front.
"Kyle Waddell. Looks like he was eighteen years old." Darren had read the license over Mitchell's shoulder. Mitchell stared at the young man's picture. He had a defined jawline. He had blue-green eyes and dark blond hair. He was smiling in his picture. "He was younger than I expected." Mitchell frowned.
