Infected Chaos

by Loren Edwards

  Jake took in the view. It looked like an ideal place to stay until the viral outbreak was over.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Defender’s engine noise caught Cliff by surprise. He grabbed his AR and slung it over his shoulder as he rushed to the window. He moved the curtains to the side to see a blue and white Land Rover pulling into his driveway. He could make out two silhouettes in the front seats, but didn’t know the occupants. He told the kids to rush to a bedroom and close the door. Cassidy grabbed Jonathan and led him with little protest.

  Cliff checked the chamber of his AR. Satisfied there was a live round and a full magazine, he flipped the selector switch from Safe to Fire and stepped outside.

  He steadied the riffle with the barrel pointing upwards and walked to the middle of vehicle’s path. He squinted, trying to peer through the windshield. The clouds reflected off the windshield blocking his view inside the cab. He raised his hand, hoping the driver would stop. His fear turned into joy when he saw Jennifer open the door.

  “What the Hell happened, and how did you get this thing?” Cliff asked, pointing.

  Jennifer smiled as she stepped onto the gravel. “I’ll explain later.”

  The passenger side door opened and a strange man stepped out. Cliff tightened his grip on the rifle, and his eyebrows drew together. “Who’s that?” he pointed.

  Jake walked to the front of the Defender and stretched out his hand with a smile. “Hi. Jake Sloan. Nice to meet you.”

  Cliff gave Jake a long, calculating look, then glanced back to Jennifer, who was smiling back at him. Cliff hesitated a few seconds before stretching his hand out. “Cliff Daniels.”

  “Well, Mr. Daniels. It is nice to meet you, and I’m so glad I ran into your wife, eh, ex-wife,” Jake caught himself.

  “Nice accent,” Cliff grinned.

  Jennifer made her way in front of Cliff, placed her palm on his chest and looked up at him, “He saved my life.”

  Cliff kept his eyes fixated on Jake as if he was ready to pounce on the stranger.

  “Cliff, he saved my life,” Jennifer repeated. “It’s very dangerous out there. I was attacked and would have died if it wasn’t for him. It’s okay,” she said, trying to diffuse his tension.

  Cliff looked down at Jennifer. “What happened?”

  “I was caught off guard and was attacked by an infected. She was inches from my face when,” Jennifer pointed, “he played Babe Ruth with her head.”

  “I told you not to venture out!” Cliff complained.

  “I had to. You know that. I had my doubts, but I’m glad I did.”

  “Maybe, but it shouldn’t come at the price of your life,” Cliff said looking down at her.

  “How’re the kids?” she asked.

  “We’ve been well.”

  “Any incidents?” Jennifer quizzed. “You come across any infected?”

  “Three of them. Galvin helped with two—”

  She took a step back and clenched fists. “Galvin? What was he doing around here?”

  Cliff raised his palms. “He’s not dangerous!”

  “He’s a convicted sex offender!” Jennifer exclaimed, stomping her foot. “What was he doing in the children’s room, anyway?”

  Cliff shook his head. “He’s not a bad guy.”

  Jennifer stared at him as if he lost his mind. “What?” she quizzed. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. Galvin was convicted of having child pornography on his computer, and you think it’s okay to bring him here?”

  “It’s not like that, Jennifer. I thought the same thing. He yanked one of those things from the kid’s window! He saved us! I didn’t invite him here. When the creature broke through the kids’ window, it was him who went outside and confronted the thing with his own hands,” he explained.

  “And what were you doing when this infected person was climbing in through the window?”

  “I was inside the room, standing between a creature and the kids.”

  Jennifer grunted as she stormed to the rear of the Defender. “I can’t believe this!”

  Cliff followed her and picked up a duffle bag. He followed her as she rambled about Galvin being near the kids as she carried the supplies in the house.

  “Where did you get all this?” Cliff asked as he placed the duffle bag on the kitchen table.

  She ignored him and walked back to the SUV.

  Jennifer collected the rifles she took from Brian’s safe and carried them to the table.

  “Where did you get these?” Cliff asked.

  “Brian’s house.”

  “How is Brian?” Cliff asked sarcastically.

  Jennifer touched the bridge of her nose, glancing down at the table. “He’s dead. He was infected,” her voice trailed away.

  Cliff threw his arms up and shook his head. “I told you not to go! You could have been hurt!”

  Jennifer ignored him. She focused on the items spread across the table. She took a mental inventory of the items and their purposes, then let out a long breath.

  “What do we have here? Is this enough?” she asked.

  After a few seconds of silence, he gave up. He knew how stubborn she could be at times. He moved his eyes from her to the firearms on the table.

  “Looks like you have an AR 15, a Ruger ten-twenty-two, a Ruger Mini14, a Mossberg 12-gauge pump shotgun, a Glock 21, a Smith and Wesson M&P in forty-cal, and a Beretta Nano in 9 millimeters. This came from Brian’s house?” Cliff asked, arching one eyebrow.

  “Yes.” Jennifer nodded.

  “Well, he has some good taste in guns, I will give him that.”

  “I grabbed all the bullets I could get,” she said trying to change the direction of the conversation.

  Cliff picked up the Beretta Nano, checked it over, and handed it to Jennifer. “Do you know how to load and shoot that thing?”

  Jennifer nodded. “Yes. I shot this same one two weeks ago.”

  “Here, Jake. You need one to carry for those just-in-case scenarios.” Cliff reached for the Glock and handed it to the doctor. “You ever shoot one?”

  Jake took the pistol and looked over it. He pulled the slide back and looked into the breech. Satisfied there wasn’t a round in the chamber, he pushed the slide-button down. The receiver slammed forward.

  Cliff smiled. “I guess so.”

  “What guns do we have here, Cliff?” Jennifer asked.

  Cliff didn’t need to think about it. He knew what he and his father kept in the closet. “Two AR 15s, a compound bow with four arrows, a Taurus 66 revolver, this Colt single-action,” Cliff pointed, “a Sig-Sauer P226, and a Walther P22 pistol, and we have ammunition for each of these.”

  “Okay,” Jennifer sighed. She turned to Cliff, who was now standing across the table. “What now? Where do we go from here? We have guns. We have food and some supplies. We have a guest.” Jennifer pointed to Jake. “You had an infected walker break through the bedroom window earlier. I mean,” she paused and placed her hands on her hips, “where do we go from here? Surely after 24 hours of this outbreak, you can’t say we will be safe in 72 hours? It’s going to get worse, Cliff. We’re going to see more of those creatures wandering around.”

  Cliff nodded. She was right. He shared the same fears. He swallowed.

  “What happens if four or eight of those creatures come near the house? What if they come in the middle of the night and break through a window again? What if there is a group of them? What do we do, Cliff?” Jennifer asked again, feeling frustrated.

  “We have to be vigilant and be aware of our surroundings. We have to stay close and protect each other.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Of course we know that, dummy! I’m asking about how long can we hold down the fort here?”

  Cliff paced the floor thinking of what she asked.

  “Anything, Cliff?” Jennifer asked watching him walk the floor. “Anytime now.”

  Cliff stopped and stared at her looking over his nose. “We can hole up here as long as we need. We can
reinforce the windows. We can black out the windows at night. We can practice noise and light discipline. We make rules that no one goes outside at night. We stay together outside. We arm ourselves at all times. We fish and hunt for food. We filter our water. We can do this.”

  “May I add something?” Jake chimed in.

  Cliff and Jennifer looked at Jake.

  “The guns are commendable. It is true, you will need these weapons. However, I do have to add that they make a lot of noise.” Jake swallowed pointing at the rifle on the table. “The noise from these weapons may bring more infected to us. The noise will draw them near, and we will be caught in a catch 22, if you may. I want to suggest you use these weapons only in dire situations. If you can neutralize an infected person trying to harm you without guns, it would be best.”

  “What are we supposed to use? Our bare fists?” Jennifer laughed shrugging her shoulders.

  Jake tapped to the tip of his nose with his finger, “Weapons that are quiet. A knife, a shovel, a bow, a gun with a silencer, a baseball bat, or tire iron. Things like that.”

  “Great! Real great, Jake. This just gets better!” Jennifer replied throwing up her hands shaking her head. “You’ve disarmed us and tell us to act like Gladiators.”

  “Pretty much … yeah.”

  Cliff slapped his hand to his forehead. He had enough of her questioning and her new friend’s suggestions. He walked outside leaving Jennifer and Jake alone to dole it out. He might be right? It wouldn’t hurt to have a few gladiator weapons on hand. He knew it would have been nice to have had a baseball bat in the bedroom when that creature was trying to climb through the window.

  He walked to the barn, turning his denim jacket’s collar up. The wind made him shiver. He entered the barn and glanced around looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. He located a tire iron on the workbench. On a table next to the workbench, he found an old tire-thumper his father used to use on the tractor. It was a short, wooden, bat-like stick used to hit tires of large trucks to gauge their air pressure. Off to his left, behind two old, metal coffee cans, he found a rusted, circular saw blade. He pictured attaching it to the end of a wood bat, if he could find one.

  Inside one of the coffee cans he found four nine-inch nails and placed them in his pocket. He remembered his father using the nails for repairing rafters in the barn almost twelve years ago—the year after he met Jennifer. The memories inside the barn touched him. He paused and prayed for his father and mother.

  Behind the table, Cliff found an aluminum baseball bat and a wooden bat. A grin formed across his face as he felt their weight in his hands.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Cliff sat in his makeshift deer stand ten feet above the ground on the back tree line of his property. He checked his watch; it was half past one in the afternoon. His twenty-year-old compound bow was sitting across his lap. He prayed the bow strings were still capable of firing an arrow.

  It had been a quiet week since Galvin wrestled the relentless creature from the window. Cliff had argued with Jennifer over Galvin when she brought it up again. He tried to talk to her, but she wouldn’t listen.

  They had been eating from boxes and some fish for the past week, and Cliff thought it would be nice to have some fresh meat for a change. He sat in the deer stand and waited. To his right was an empty wheat field his neighbor used to harvest. He remembered it seeing better days. To his left and through the tree branches, he could see Jennifer hanging laundry on the clothesline. The children were running through the hanging bedsheets. When the wind shifted, he could hear their laughter. Leaning forward around another tree, he could see Jake fishing at the pond.

  He heard a twig snap, and his ears perked. He surveyed his surroundings with his eyes, keeping his head still. If it was a deer, they could eat well the rest of the week. He tensed and gripped his bow in his left hand. He controlled his breathing after another twig broke, followed by the sound of crunching leaves. Cliff froze; he could feel his heartbeat pounding in anticipation.

  Eight seconds passed. Then, a series of footsteps rang out. Cliff looked down to see a doe underneath him. A beautiful animal, he thought. He needed to wait for the deer to walk further before he could take aim. He wanted the animal to turn sideways before he would shoot it.

  Cliff shifted his sitting position as quietly as possible and raised the bow to eye level. He placed the arrow in the cradle above his grip, stood, and pulled the bowstring to his right cheek. He held the tension, waiting for the animal to turn. Cliff grunted. The animal froze, its tail standing erect.

  The doe turned. It was the moment he was waiting for, and he released the bowstring. The arrow was straight and true. It struck the doe, piercing the animal’s heart. It started to run, but after three gallops, it fell dead. Cliff smiled in delight; they would have fresh meat tonight.

  Cliff began to climb down the makeshift ladder when he heard a gunshot. He looked to his right. It was a car limping along the road bordering his neighbor’s empty field. The gray, four-door car had backfired. Smoke bellowed from its exhaust pipe. Cliff returned to his seat and watched the car lunge forward then stop.

  Chris Lightfoot pumped the gas pedal. Shaking his head in disbelief, he tried everything he could think of to keep the car moving. He checked the gauges; he had no idea why the car was having issues. The car had over a quarter of fuel remaining, and the engine light was not on.

  “What’s wrong, Chris?” Cassandra asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  She looked to the rear seat where their two young boys sat, looking scared. She patted them on their knees and assured them things were okay. She locked eyes with Doug, sitting behind Chris, and smiled. When the infected had overwhelmed their small neighborhood and they had to flee, she had invited him to join. He was a widower. She told Chris he could be helpful in their journey, but there was a secret they shared: she had started an affair with him three weeks before the outbreak.

  He was older than her by eight years, but there was something about him that attracted her. She had felt neglected for more than a year and desired to be touched. She found it in Doug’s bedroom when the kids were at school and when Chris was at work.

  The car backfired again, frightening the boys. “Mom!”

  The car lunged forward, then stopped. Cassandra thought her forehead would have hit the dash if it wasn’t for the seatbelt.

  Chris shifted into park. He turned the keys in the ignition, and pumped the gas pedal. He was frustrated when the engine failed to cough to life. Steam billowed from the hood.

  “Great … everyone out!” Chris commanded.

  Cliff felt his hip and touched the cold steel of the Colt handgun, making sure the weapon was still by his side. He sat in his stand, watching smoke roll from the hood; the wind brought the burning smell his way.

  Cliff brought a pair of binoculars to his eyes and counted three adults and two children exiting the car. A tall, blond man walked to the front of the car and lifted the hood. He waved his hand at the smoke then turned his head to the woman came up to him. The two exchanged a few words, and then the woman turned her back to the car, looking across the field. She comforted the two young boys standing next to the car.

  Cliff turned the dial on the binoculars and zoomed in closer on the woman. Her chestnut hair blew across her face when the wind picked up. He watched her pull her hair back behind her ear. Cliff wondered when was the last time she or the kids had gotten any rest; they looked exhausted and dirty.

  He shifted the binoculars to the front of the car. The second man was older than the first. He had reddish-grey hair and week-old growth of hair on his face. He was pointing at an engine component and talking to the driver. The driver shrugged with his palms up.

  Cliff noticed the men discussing the car when a movement beyond the men caught Cliff’s attention. It was a quick movement. He studied the area he thought he saw the movement.

  “Come on, where are you?” Cliff mumbled to himself.

>   There it was. A movement in the distance near three abandoned cars along the side of the road. Cliff spied a head cresting the hill on the road. Cliff stood feeling his heart raced. There were two infected zombies approaching the intersection. Cliff moved back to the family; they were oblivious to the approaching danger.

  Cliff yelled.

  Nothing.

  Cliff looked through the binoculars again. There were more creatures coming over the hill.

  “Oh my gosh,” Cliff swore under his breath.

  “Hey! Hey!” Cliff yelled again waving his arms.

  No response, even though the woman was facing the tree line where Cliff sat. Cliff returned to the mob of infected people. There were more now; Cliff counted twelve. They spotted the family and began to run.

  “Oh, God.”

  Cliff hesitated. He thought about firing a shot, but the family would look his way and not at the approaching herd. Cliff bit his lip. If only they could see the danger coming. He shook his head and prayed he wouldn’t see an entire family devoured.

  He looked at the family, then back at the approaching herd. He had seconds to think. Cliff loaded an arrow. He pulled the string back and arched his aim toward the intersection. He had no way of gauging the true distance and had to guess. He released the string. The arrow flew high in the sky toward the family. Cliff swore under his breath and hoped the trajectory was right. He watched the arrow fly over the family and strike the rear window of an empty car, shattering the glass.

  It worked. The two men flinched when the rear glass shattered. They turned and saw the fast-approaching herd, and they yelled to run. The woman turned to see the infected mob, grabbed the boys’ hands, and started to run across the field.

  “Run!” Cliff heard the woman scream.

  Cliff climbed from the deer stand. He left his bow at the base of the tree and unholstered the Colt pistol as he sprinted toward the fleeing family.