The Infected: (Book 1)

by Smith, Justin

  Rob and Anne had gone home to pack what they could and were then coming to my house. Rob and Anne both lived near the base, in the more commercial, populated area of the county. Anne lived in an apartment and Rob lived in a townhome, so both of their places were out of the question. Too many neighbors. My place was isolated, tucked into the back of a 150-acre farm. The infection seemed to thrive on dense populations, so my place made the most sense.

  While I waited for them to arrive, I decided to call my parents again, realizing I'd forgotten to check in on them after talking to Matt. No one answered. Not a good sign.

  Anne showed up first. She pulled a sleeping bag and pillow off her passenger seat and asked me to grab the cooler from the back of the jeep. She'd packed some burgers and frozen homemade soup, just in case we had to wait this out for a few days. She had also packed a paper bag with canned goods, mostly those small white potatoes and baked beans, with a few random vegetables. It would do. Once inside the house, she set her backpack on the kitchen table. As I set the canned goods on the counter, Anne pulled out a handgun.

  "It's a Sig Sauer 1911, .45 caliber. My dad got it for me when I moved down here," she said, pulling out two boxes of ammunition. Each box said they contained 250 rounds. She handed me the gun. I checked the safety and released the magazine. Fully loaded.

  "Nice. I really hope we don't need it, though," I said as I replaced the magazine and set the gun on the table.

  As Anne placed the gun back in her backpack, I grabbed a couple beers out of the fridge. "Wanna wait for Rob on the deck? Might as well enjoy it while we can."

  Saturday, 1:30 p.m.

  The clouds began to move in shortly after Anne and I had put up the umbrella on the deck. What had started out as a warmer-than-usual, sunny May day had begun to fit the mood of the recent events. I checked my weather app, and they were calling for thunderstorms overnight. At the moment, the cottony clouds and gentle breeze were actually a relief, though.

  Just as we cracked our second beers, Rob came barreling down my dirt driveway in his extended cab, bright red F-350. The end of the driveway had two quick turns, almost like a Z-pattern, and Rob took them way too fast. When the truck skidded to a stop just feet from the front deck, Rob was wearing a cowboy hat, sunglasses and a tank top. Typical red neck, and a far stretch from his buttoned-up professional demeanor at school.

  Rob brought more canned food, plus chips and pasta. He also had a sleeping bag and pillow. And like Anne, he'd come armed. He went around to the bed of his truck and pulled out a carrying case with two semi-automatic handguns, both .45 Berettas, and a Sig Sauer Tactical Rifle .223 caliber. Thank goodness for the Second Amendment!

  CHAPTER 5

  Saturday Night

  The three of us spent the next few hours just enjoying life. We drank beer and grilled burgers. We threw a tennis ball for Holly to chase. We played rummy and smoked cigarettes and a little bit of weed that Rob had brought over. We listened to music, mostly country tunes. We shared stories about students and their never-ending bullshit. It seemed like any other Saturday night.

  But we kept the news on in the background, paying occasional attention to it. As we listened, we noticed that the stream of reports kept getting worse. The virus, as they were now calling it, had spread beyond every barricade and blockade and barrier that the National Guard, U.S. military and local police forces had attempted to enforce. All four cities were basically war-zones and the infection had spread to the suburbs. Ritzy neighborhoods outside of each city had fallen, just as quickly as the poor neighborhoods had. No amount of wealth or power was stopping its' spread. Locally, there were no reports of the virus in St. Mary's County yet, but Prince George County, just south of D.C., had already been devastated. Charles County was all that stood between Prince George and St. Mary's. We speculated that we had about a day before it reached our quaint little county.

  When the rain started to fall at around 10, we went inside. Anne decided to sleep in the guest room, and Holly followed her back. Rob and I fell asleep on the couches in the living room, watching TV.

  I woke up to the sound of raindrops assaulting the home's tin roof. I glanced at my phone, which said 5:12 a.m. The TV was still on, but it was the Emergency Broadcast screen, just lines of various colors. There was no sound coming from the TV, simply silence throughout the house.

  I reached for the remote, to turn off the television, with every intention of going back to sleep. Just as my index finger depressed the power button, there was a sudden, sharp banging on my back door. I heard a female, crying, "Jason please open up, Jason, please!"

  The banging continued as I shot up off the couch, sprinted across the linoleum kitchen floor and nearly fell on my ass as I rounded the corner toward the back entry way. Through the small, square window in the center of the metallic door I recognized Sarah. I swung open the door and she rushed inside, slamming it behind her.

  Before I could ask what was going on, why she was crying and covered in mud and soaking wet, she covered my mouth. As Rob came around the corner, she put a finger from her other hand up to her own mouth, indicating he needed to be quiet. The panic in her eyes illustrated how serious she was. In the silence, I put my head up to the window, just enough so my eyes were peeking over.

  Across the yard, under the light attached to the top of a white, wooden shed just near the tree line, stood what appeared to be a man. As this person turned slightly toward the house, I could see his hands and mouth were dripping with blood and his eyes – it was dark but I didn't see human eyes. I saw glassy marbles as black as night where the eyes should be. As the man turned slightly more, I ducked out of view. The three of us sat there silently for what seemed like hours.

  CHAPTER 6

  Sunday, 6:00 a.m.

  Rob, Sarah and I sat on the kitchen floor until the sun had brightened the interior of the house. Once Rob and I decided it was safe, we each worked our way down the sides of the mobile home, staying as close to the ground as possible, hugging the wall, reaching up only to peak out the windows. Five minutes later we had made it to the back room where Anne and Holly were sound asleep. Rob gently tugged on Anne's sleeping bag until her eyes popped open, then gave her the "shh" sign with his index finger. Rob led Anne to the kitchen, again pausing at each window along the way. After Anne took a seat at the beat up, yard-sale purchased dining table, Rob returned to his bag and pulled out his Berettas. He checked the magazine for each and handed one to Jason. Rob then stood at the window in the living room overlooking the back yard, rotating between looking out back and peering out through the front. There wasn't a soul in sight.

  "Holy hell, Anne, you slept through some shit," I said. Not that Anne hadn't noticed already. Sarah's eyes were red and puffy, her hair was damp and matted, and she wasn't there the night before. Anne reached her arm out to Sarah's leg and rubbed it gingerly. Sarah looked up and began to tell her story.

  Her parents had decided Saturday evening to try to get out of St. Mary's, but wanted to wait until early morning and the cover of darkness. Her father thought he could work his way north-west through the county along back roads and make it into Charles County, where his sister had a house on the water and a boat they could use to get into Virginia. He figured by the time they got there, the sun would be coming up and it would be light enough to guide the boat to the western shore of the Potomac, maybe even sailing a few miles south to ensure they were far enough away from D.C.

  They packed the car lightly, taking only a backpack each with a change of clothes and some granola bars and bottled water. When her father backed the car out of the garage, he paused briefly to press the button to lower the garage door. The moment the car stopped, one of the infected smashed into the driver's window, shattering the glass. Two more infected showed up and together they dragged her father through the window, throwing him to the ground below. Sitting in the back seat, Sarah said all four figures disappeared from sight. Her mom then hopped out of the car and, rushing around the f
ront of the car to help her husband, was tackled by a fourth infected. Sarah sat stunned until her mother's screams broke her stare. At that point she jumped out of the car and ran straight for the trail in the woods. She ran as fast as she could to Jason's house and didn't look back. She wasn't sure if she had been followed.

  "You were followed," I interrupted. I told them of the figure standing beside my shed, dripping blood, empty eyes.

  "Jason, we can't stay here," said Anne. "Those things have gotta be all around us at this point. And if they can break a car window, I'm not sure yours can hold up. And we can't keep Holly locked inside, she'll bark and enough of those things will show up and they'll force their way in." By the time she was done, she was nearly out of breath.

  Looking at Sarah then toward me, Rob said "She's right. But where do we go? We'd have to pass by Sarah's house to get to the main road, and clearly that's not an option." Rob returned his gaze outside, vigilantly searching the surrounding land for any sign of movement.

  "We'll go to Matt's," I said. "He was boarding up his house yesterday. We'll pack up all the food we can into your truck, Rob. We've got weapons and plenty of ammo, so it's not like we wouldn't be welcomed."

  "Great, so we're stuck in another house?" replied Anne. "How the hell does that help us?"

  "He's on the water, he's got two boats," I said. "Maybe we can trade a gun and some ammo for a boat, take it across the bay or something, just away from the city." I almost said "like Sarah's father" when mentioning the boat but caught myself just in time. At least it didn't sound like she saw what the infected had done to her parents.

  "How do you even know if he's still there?" asked Anne. "Maybe he took off in one of his boats already."

  "Call him," Rob said.

  I grabbed my phone off the charger in my room. When I returned to the kitchen, they could tell by my face that something was wrong.

  "It's emergency only," I said. "I tried calling, but it just does that beep thing." I showed Anne my phone and sure enough, across the top it read "Emergency Only."

  Rob grabbed his phone from his bag and, looking at it, said "Shit, mine too."

  "Great, so we just fucking drive down there and hope he lets us in?" said Anne. "Or that he's even still there?" Normally calm and collected, I could tell that hearing Sarah's story had really shaken Anne.

  "What choice do we have?" Rob asked. "The way I see it, we can stay here and wait for those things to find us, or we can head down there. It's not worth it trying to drive anywhere, and at least down there we'd be by water. I'm willing to bet these things can't swim."

  ***

  Sunday, 8:00 a.m.

  The food was packed back into the coolers. Water bottles were thrown in a pillow case. Sarah had a Beretta, Anne carried her Sig Sauer. I had the other Beretta tucked into my waistband, a backpack full of ammo and the keys to Rob's truck, and Rob stood by the front living room window with his tactical rifle. Assured by Rob that there was no threat outside, I slowly opened the door to the front deck. Hearing the door open, Holly came sprinting from the master bedroom and forced her muscular body through the doorway. She hadn't been out since the night before and must've really had to go. I swung the door open and stepped onto the deck, a fight-or-flight reaction to Holly's quick escape. There was still some cloud cover from the storms last night, but the sun was trying hard to poke through. It was going to be another hot day, but the storms had taken the humidity out of the air, and it didn't feel as sweltering as the days before.

  Rob slipped through the door after me and stood on one of the patio chairs, taking a lookout position. I slowly walked to the front bumper of Rob's truck and peered around to the passenger side. All clear. I walked around to the back, tossed in the backpack, and lowered the tailgate. I waved to the girls, who were now standing in the doorway. With my signal, the girls emerged with the first cooler, one on each end, and placed it in the bed of Rob's truck. They hurried back and grabbed the second cooler, repeating the act. They ran back into the house and came out a third time. Sarah lugged out the water bottle-pillow case and a paper bag of canned goods while Anne carefully carried my fishing pole and tackle box.

  With the truck packed, Sarah and Anne climbed in the back of the cab. Anne called out to Holly, who enthusiastically jumped in beside them. Rob quietly closed the rear cab door, then hopped in the driver's seat. I walked across the deck and stuck my head in the front door as I locked it from the inside. Unsure when I'd see my house again, I gently shut the door and jogged to the passenger side of the truck. Rob started the engine, which in the still morning air sounded like an explosion, but the view remained clear. Turning around, he headed down the dirt driveway, and I watched as my house grew smaller through the back window.

  As Rob turned onto Steerhorn Lane, the river came into view. A few boats were anchored off-shore, but not nearly as many as I'd expect on a Sunday morning in May. The rolling tobacco fields gave no indication that anything was wrong with the world. A group of horses stood in a pasture near the river, oblivious to everything except the grass on which they dined. I envied their serenity.

  Making the right onto Matt's street, a field of tall grass to the right sloped upward, toward a tree line five or six football fields away. To the left was another meadow with about a dozen grazing horses. They belonged to Matt's neighbor, but I had no idea where this person lived. Matt's home stood alone and as far as I could tell, he had no real neighbors. Still, the fenced-in field butted against Matt's property, giving the impression that the horses were his.

  Just as Matt's house came into view, I heard Anne, seated behind me on the passenger side, gasp. I turned around, followed her gaze and saw two infected standing just in front of the trees. From this distance I couldn't make out any distinguishing features, but it appeared to be two men. Or, former men. Both wore polo shirts and khaki pants that were in good shape aside from a little dirt. The only evidence that they were infected came from their disjointed movements. Their heads twitched back and forth, in random directions. They held their arms, bent at the elbows, in the air. Their hands were at shoulder-height, and appeared to sway gently, like a slap-boxer waiting for the round to begin.

  As soon as they saw the truck, their heads stopped twitching. Both of their gazes fixed on the truck and a moment later they began a sprint, cutting a path through the waist-high grass in a straight line toward our vehicle.

  "Jesus man, drive!" I said to Rob.

  Rob hit the gas and the truck hurtled forward. Closing in on Matt's house, he laid on the horn. Anne was urging him to go faster, while Sarah just stared out the back window crying as the infected creatures drew closer. I saw someone peer through an upstairs window, then moments later the front door swung open.

  Matt emerged with a rifle and trained it on the truck. As the Ford slid to a stop in front of Matt's garage, he recognized me in the front seat, frantically waving my hands. I hopped out of the truck and pointed up the hill, where Matt finally saw the infected, now about halfway between the trees and the house.

  "Get in the house, move!" Matt shouted.

  Anne jumped out of the backseat and ran to the front door, calling Holly to follow. Rob swung open the back door and yanked Sarah out of her trance. Once her feet hit the ground, she took off running behind Holly.

  Matt shuffled slowly backward toward the house, as I grabbed the backpack with the ammo out of the truck bed then jogged after the girls. I stopped halfway, as I realized I was about to cross the path of Rob's rifle, which was aimed up the hill at the figures now only a hundred fifty yards away. The first shot instantly dropped the closer of the two infected. The one behind, sprinting at full speed, didn't flinch. It continued running, hurdling the downed infected. The second shot spun the remaining infected, knocking it to the ground. Without hesitation it popped back up like a running back that brushed off a glancing tackle, continuing down the hill. As it reached the street, now only thirty yards away, Rob fired a third shot, this time putting it down permanent
ly.

  "That was fucking awesome!" Rob said, not a hint of remorse in his voice. "This is some Dangerous Game shit!"

  "Help me with the coolers," I said, my heart still pounding. The three of us grabbed the food from the truck and hustled toward the house.

  Matt's father-in-law, Tom, greeted us at the door, rifle slung over his shoulder. I had met him a few times before, having visited Matt and Melissa quite frequently. He was in his late 70's, and his body showed it. Mentally, the man was as fit as any half his age.

  It was dark inside the home, with the first floor windows boarded up. Matt shut the door behind us, securing a piece of plywood across the door through hooks on each side. The dining room table was covered with unlit candles; Matt said he expected the power to go out within a day or two. Melissa called the men into the kitchen, where she had already poured iced tea for the girls. Holly was drinking water out of a Tupperware container Melissa had placed on the floor. After introductions, Sarah recounted her story. Matt said the one's in the field were the first two infected he had seen, but he had heard similar reports of attacks across the county over his police scanner.

  While the girls remained in the kitchen, and Melissa comforted Sarah over the loss of her parents, Matt and Tom showed Rob and me around the house. There were eight standard first floor windows, plus a set of French doors leading to the patio. Each window had been fitted with plywood, as well as the French doors. To further reinforce the patio doors, Matt had laid three plywood slabs horizontally across the back of the upright plywood, much like at the front door. Outside, he said he had stacked all his patio furniture against the glass and fastened it in place with bungee cords and rope, hoping this would be an adequate deterrent.