Survive (Day 3)

by Wise, A. R.

  “Where’d everyone go?” asked June.

  “Maybe they all got infected,” said Red. “You saw what happened to Porter. He took off as soon as he thought there was no one else around.”

  Red stepped over a steel bumper that’d fallen off one of the wrecked vehicles, headed back to the car with the dog inside. “Ready to save the pup?”

  “Sure. I don’t see anyone around.”

  Red tapped his knuckles on the glass. The dog was a Beagle mix, with floppy lips and big brown, kind eyes. He panted and spun on the seat, his tail wagging.

  “Careful, June. He looks like a real killer. Look at those eyes. Pure evil. And that mouth! That’s a human-eater if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Shut up,” said June. “He looks sweet, but we still don’t have any clue if this disease can be transmitted to dogs.”

  “No, I agree with you. We’ve got a real case of the ‘Cujos’ up in here. Don’t we boy.” He tapped on the driver’s side window again, and the dog licked the opposite side.

  “Fine, I over-reacted,” said June as she reached for the door’s handle.

  “Wait, don’t,” said Red as he backed away, mocking her.

  She opened the door, and the over-heated pup jumped out exuberantly. Red got to his knees, and the dog ran to him as if he was his long-lost owner. The dog put his front paws on Red’s knees, and started licking his new friend’s face.

  “Oh God, June. Save yourself. Save yourself. He’s just too vicious. He’s eating me alive.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Leave me for dead. There’s no hope. I’m a goner.” Red laid down, and let the dog excitedly lick him.

  “Are we taking him with us, or leaving him here?”

  “Leaving him?” asked Red as if it was offensive. He stood up and looked around. “Where would he go? He can’t survive on his own. Can you, boy? He needs someone to look after him. You hungry, little guy?”

  The pup answered with a whine and a quiet bark.

  “Oh, see. He’s hungry,” said Red. “And I bet he’s thirsty too. How long were you in there, buddy?”

  “What’s his name?” asked June.

  Red checked his collar, but the only tags were for his rabies shot. “I don’t know. What’s your name, bud? What should we call you?”

  June glanced towards the horizon, smirked, and shook her head. “I can only imagine what your brother would say about this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can hear him now, complaining how it was a bad idea to bring another mouth to feed.”

  “You don’t eat much. Do you, buddy? No. Porter would’ve loved you. In fact, that’s what I’m going to call you. Porter. You’re our new Porter. What do you think of that name?” The dog sniffed around, spun a few times, and then hunched his back before defecating.

  “He thinks it’s a shitty name,” said June.

  “No he doesn’t. Look how good he is. He waited until he was out of the car to poop. That’s a good sign. Who’s a good boy, Porter?” The dog ignored him. “He doesn’t know his name yet. Hey Porter, let’s go.” Red slapped his thigh to get the dog’s attention. “Come on, boy. Come on, Porter. Let’s go. You’re coming with us.”

  “Let’s get him some water first.” June went to their car to get a bottle of water and search for something that would make a suitable bowl. As she headed there, a distant rumble gave her pause.

  She scanned the sky, but didn’t see anything. “Do you hear that?”

  Red’s smile faded when he saw her looking up. He listened, and then said, “Yeah, what is… There, look.” He pointed north. “It’s another helicopter. Come on, let’s get in the ditch. Hurry.”

  They scurried to the ditch, but the vegetation was sparse and unable to hide them. They would certainly be spotted.

  “Act dead,” said June.

  “Fuck,” said Red as he tried to lay still.

  The beagle came to inspect him, and licked his face.

  “Get away, Porter. Not now. Come on, stop it.”

  “Just stay still,” said June as the helicopter neared.

  “It sees us,” said Red, but he stayed still.

  The helicopter came closer, erasing any doubt that it was headed somewhere else. Either the pilot had seen them, or it was patrolling the road. It hovered above, causing the weeds to whip and dust to swirl. Porter fled, scared off by the helicopter.

  Something thudded on the pavement, and bounced. It was a silver bag, about half the size of a backpack, with a label featuring big, black lettering. After dropping the package, the helicopter left.

  June and Red waited until the helicopter was far away before they dared to get up.

  “What’d they drop?” asked Red.

  “I don’t know.” June stayed low and walked cautiously to the pouch in the road. She leaned in, unwilling to touch it. The package had landed label down. She used her foot to flip it over.

  IMPORTANT

  PLEASE READ

  This area had been quarantined. You must report to officials for testing. Wave flag to alert military that you need pick up. Anyone not displaying flag will be executed.

  Testing sites located in most major cities. Look for orange signs for directions.

  Do not trust anyone verbally offering help. Do not communicate via radio.

  The message was repeated in several languages, with English in the largest print at the top. Red joined June, and read the cryptic message.

  “Wave flag? What flag?” he asked.

  “I’m guessing that’s what’s in here.” She prodded the bag with the toe of her boot, still unwilling to handle it.

  Red picked the bag up and ripped it open. He pulled out a folded American flag and let it unfurl. The wind caused its length to whip.

  “Why can’t we communicate via radio?” asked June after reading the message again.

  Red shrugged. “No clue. Do you think the helicopter’s going to swing back around to come get us?”

  “They can’t be airlifting everyone they see.”

  The beagle returned, warily stalking the edge of the road. Red saw him, and beckoned the pup closer. It walked to him, but kept his head low.

  “It’s okay, Porter. I won’t let anyone hurt you, buddy.”

  “What do we do now?” asked June.

  “We keep driving. If we run into any military, then we’ve got the flag. We can wave it around to keep them from shooting us, but I don’t want to report for testing unless we’ve got no other choice. You saw what it was like back at the highway. Do you really think all those people were infected?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I really doubt it,” he said.

  “You think the Army’s just slaughtering people?” she asked, her tone patronizing. “Why would they drop the flag then, and not just shoot us from the sky?”

  “Hell if I know. But there’s no way I’m trusting anyone other than you anymore.” He rolled the flag and stuffed it back into its bag. “You and Porter,” he said as the dog came to stand at his side.

  Day Three – 4:14 pm

  To make it an hour on the road without incident was an astounding accomplishment. They saw several wrecks, but Red and June were otherwise unhampered until their lonely road fattened with the hint of civilization. Soon they reached the intersection of a four-lane highway where their road ended.

  “Look at all the cars,” said June as Red came to a stop.

  The highway had several cars parked on it, some of them wrecked, but others simply abandoned. It was reminiscent of I-25, except there were no bodies to be seen. It was as if the rapture had claimed them.

  “Our road stops here,” said Red. “Should we go left or right?”

  “There’re less stopped cars that way.” She pointed right, and he turned to drive that way.

  They crested a hill, revealing a car dealership ahead on the right. It was the first in a line of businesses on the outskirts of a nearby town.

  “On second though
t, let’s not go this way,” said June. “We should stay away from cities if we can.”

  “Yeah, I agree.” Red was going to turn around, but saw a large orange sign with flashing yellow lights ahead on the side of the road. “Let’s just check out what the sign says.”

  They descended the hill, headed to town. June read the sign as they approached, “Survivors must display flags. Get flag here.”

  “There’re more of those flag bags under the sign.”

  “There’s another sign down the road,” said June. “It’s too far to read. Drive up a little further.”

  “Okay, but get that flag out, just in case.”

  June got the silver bag, and pulled the flag out. She kept it rolled up on her lap, and then waited until they were closer to the sign before reading it aloud, “Military checkpoint ahead. Follow signs.”

  Red pulled to the shoulder, and then started to turn around. “Then we’re going the opposite… oh fuck.”

  June started to ask what was wrong, but then saw the flashing lights behind them.

  “Cops,” said Red as two squad cars crested the hill they’d come down moments earlier.

  “Pull off to the side,” said June.

  Red pursed his lips, exhaled sharply, and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

  “Red, pull over. What’re you thinking of doing?” she asked while unfurling the flag in her lap. “We’re not going to try to run from the cops. Don’t even think about it.”

  “They’re going to make us go to the checkpoint.”

  “Maybe, yeah. And maybe they’ll leave us alone,” she said while rolling down her window. She undid her seatbelt and held the flag near the open window.

  “What’re you doing?” asked Red. “Don’t flag them down.” He completed half of his u-turn and pulled to the side of the road so that June’s window faced the grassy strip separating oncoming traffic. Their Subaru now faced the patrol cars directly.

  “I’m not flagging them down, but I don’t want them to shoot us either. If they stop, I’ll show the flag.”

  “Here they come,” said Red as he reached for the shotgun. Porter was running back and forth across the seats in the back, eager to get out.

  The police cars raced towards them, and then came to screeching halts on the other shoulder. There were two officers in each car, and all four of them exited their vehicles with guns drawn.

  June stuffed something under the seat, and then hopped onto the sill of her window. She tried to wave the cumbersome flag while yelling, “We’re not infected. Don’t shoot.”

  The police began shouting, creating a confusing mix of commands.

  “Get your hands up.”

  “Get out and on the ground.”

  “Hands up!”

  One officer stepped forward, taking command. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his already large chest was amplified by a vest. He held his gun with both hands, and pointed it straight at Red while yelling, “Get out of the car and on the ground now.”

  June quickly complied, laying on her belly in the grass.

  Red cursed, and then set the shotgun on the passenger side seat. “Porter, stay here.” He opened his door and put his hands up before getting to his knees, and then to his belly.

  Their submissive response eased the tension. An officer approached and asked, “Have you been cut?”

  “No,” said Red. “We’re not infected.”

  “Get your hands behind your back.”

  “Why?” asked Red. “Are we being arrested for something?”

  “Just do what you’re told.”

  “Don’t fight us,” said a different officer. “Everything’s going to be fine. We have to get you checked out, and then sent over to a shelter.”

  “We don’t want to get sent to a shelter,” said Red as he pulled his hands away from the officer. A man’s knee quickly came down in the small of Red’s back, painfully pinning him to the ground. “Ouch, stop…”

  Porter started barking inside the car, and one of the cops slammed the door shut.

  “Quit fighting me!”

  “Damn it, listen to me,” said Red.

  One of the officers pressed his face hard to the road while the other wrestled his arms until he could zip tie them. “It’s for your own good.”

  “Red, don’t fight them,” said June as she was led across the road to one of the squad cars, her hands tied behind her back.

  “Listen to your girlfriend, buddy. This is for your own good.”

  Red was hauled to his feet as the officer yanked at his cuffed wrists. He was forced towards one of the squad cars. “Hey, what about my dog? Are you going to get my dog?”

  “Sorry, no pets.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing we can do.”

  “You mother fucker,” said Red. “Are you serious? You’re just going to leave him in the car like that?”

  Two officers forced Red into the back of the squad car, and he fell hard against the plastic seats. The door slammed, leaving Red shouting in anger.

  When the officers got into the squad car, Red assaulted them with curses. “You fucking assholes! You can’t just leave my dog in the car like that. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Calm down. Would you please calm down and listen to me?” The officer in the passenger seat looked at Red through the bars that separated the front and back seats. Both squad cars were quick to get moving again, leaving Porter trapped in the car.

  “He’ll die in there,” said Red as he looked out the back window.

  “We’ve got strict instructions to leave all pets. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

  “Why couldn’t you open the door and let him out? Why’d you have to leave him in there?”

  The driver spoke with authority, “Because dogs tend to protect their owners, and we can’t risk getting bit.”

  “Tell you what,” said the younger cop in the passenger seat. “We’ll be patrolling this road again in a couple hours. We’ll stop and let your dog out of the car. All right?”

  “You swear?”

  “Sure. Will that make you happy?”

  “No, but I guess I don’t have much choice in the matter.”

  “You should be thankful,” said the driver. “We probably just saved your life. What the hell were you doing still driving around?”

  “I was headed to Texas. I’ve got family out there.”

  “Texas?” asked the younger cop. “You’d be lucky to make it out of the state.”

  “Do you guys know what happened, and how much of the country got affected? Is this disease everywhere? Or is it just around here?”

  “No one’s sure,” said the younger cop. “After the blackout things went crazy. The National Guard and Homeland Security took charge of the local police stations and had us start rounding people up and putting out signs. They’ve got some lines of communication with other areas, but they’re keeping tight-lipped about exactly what happened.”

  “It was the Russians and the Chinese,” said the driver.

  “We don’t know that for sure,” said the younger cop. “It could’ve been the Arabs. Hell it could’ve been some homegrown terrorist cell for all we know.”

  “Bullshit,” said the driver. “It was the Russians and the Chinese for sure.”

  The younger cop dismissed his partner’s assertion, “Anyways, someone let out a virus that makes people start stabbing each other. From what I’ve been told, it makes the infected person want to spread the sickness anyway they can.”

  “That’s why they’re stabbing people,” said the driver. “They get their knives bloody, and then stick you with it.”

  “Right, I know,” said Red. “But how much of the country is affected?”

  “No one’s sure,” said the younger cop.

  “How is no one sure? I thought you said they had lines of communication.”

  “Yeah, I should’ve said we’re not sure. We’re the grunts. They don’t tell us shit.”r />
  “It’s bad,” said the driver. “Trust me, this disease is all over the country. It’s stage one of World War Three.”

  “Don’t listen to Kurt,” said the younger cop. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  “If this is stage one, what’s stage two?”

  “Invasion,” said Kurt. “They’re going to let us kill each other for a while, and then come finish the job.”

  “How’d they know we’d get hit by that CME?” asked Red.

  “Not sure,” said Kurt. “Maybe they caused it somehow.”

  The younger cop snickered and said, “Yeah right. How would they do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they fired a nuke at the sun or something.”

  “Seriously?” asked his partner. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I don’t know how they did it, but they did.”

  The younger cop laughed and said, “You’d make a hell of a scientist.”

  “All I know is that we’re fucked. Okay? How’s that for science?”

  “Where are you taking me?” asked Red, interrupting their squabble.

  “To one of the labs to get checked out,” said the driver. “If you’re clean, they’ll load you on a transport and get you to a safe zone.”

  “Where’s the lab?”

  “There’s one at a local high school,” said the younger cop. “You’re going to have to be quarantined for a while. I’m not sure how long, but I’d bet you’ll get cleared by the morning.”

  The driver slowed, and then turned onto a new road, following the orange signs that led the way to the checkpoint. Soon they passed through a gauntlet of military vehicles, with several armed men protecting the entrance to a high school that they’d taken over. The younger cop had his window rolled down, and spoke to a man in army fatigues. “We got a couple of survivors off the highway.”

  “All right, drop them off at the field, but be careful. Someone’s been taking pot shots at us from a nearby building.” He pointed the way, and they drove ahead to the edge of the football field.

  “Who’d be taking pot shots at the army?” asked the younger cop.