Alpha of the Omega

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Alpha of the Omega Page 18

by Corona, A. M.


  Hobbs looked over to Edward and Lilly. “Well how did you two come into the picture?” “Well we were next door neighbors to Becky so naturally she checked on us before she ventured out too far,” said Lilly. This seemed to satisfy Hobbs for the moment but still made him uneasy as Becky did not account for Edward and Lilly at all.

  Hobbs thought about the next move. Their party was continuing to grow little by little. He was not sure how long that would last because the last two that came into their party died by the clutches of the evil that stood outside. He did not want to be a part of the reason for their deaths. There had to be something he could do about keeping them alive. Then there was the deal with the helicopter. Where was it going? Was it going to a relative safe place? It was not a military helicopter and had no markings to indicate if it belonged to any organization at all. It was just completely white. Then there was the thing about the hospital. He was so sure they should get there but then again he was not sure if that would be the best place for them to go. Defeated he finally gave up. He noticed for the first time that Becky was looking at him. As he met her gaze she quickly looked away. Brushing her hair behind her ear and then taking a quick second glance at him smiling. Just then Bobbie got up grunting as he got himself to his feet. “Excuse me, I will be right back got to use the john.” “Like we really wanted to know that you old man.” The anger kept building up. “Just wait,” he muttered underneath his breath. Becky smiled again and looked at Hobbs once more. It was as if she was playing a small game trying to lure him in. “So now that we are all safe what should we do?” questioned Thomas “Yeah,” spoke up Edward. “I mean now that we are here we need to figure out about our survival. There has to be others around here. I vote we go out looking for other survivors.” He pushed up his thick black glasses that slid down his face. “This food will not last forever and at some point we need to grow our own food you know. Then there is the problem with water. We have no running water. True we could live off of the water that is here for a while but then what? We need to find fresh water that we can drink. There will not be anyone producing food and even if we had enough food to last us years it will go bad within two or three. I mean we have canned food but that will not last forever. Contrary to belief they do expire.” Lilly touched his arm in a loving way. “He is right we have to do something about food and we need to find a place where we can produce our own food. There are some fields about ten miles away. I know because Edward and I would drive past them as we would go out on our vacation to the mountains every year. That would be a perfect place for us to go maybe we can figure out a way to live out there?” “Well how the fuck do you expect us to do that?” said Thomas, rather rash. “I mean ok so there is perfect land out there. We get there and then what? How would we secure the area? That’s just a pipe dream dear.” Lilly quickly looked to Edward for him to interject for her and stand up to him. When he made no remark she elbowed him. “Ouch! What was that for?” “Aren’t you going to stand up for me? Do I have to do everything myself!”

  Feeling the sting from the words he spoke up. “Well, we would could build a fence around the area and maybe come up with an alarm system so we know when people or zombies are coming. Most of those fields have some sort of barbwire fence anyways we could build upon that. Sure at first it would be difficult and take a while to get done but we can do it little by little. Civilization was not built in one day. It took time and effort but most of all cooperation from everyone before the civilization that you see before you was created.” “And what civilization is that? Haven’t you looked outside? There is no fucking civilization anymore. You are just as delusional as your yuppie there,” said Thomas, as he scowled in their direction. “Look they are just giving out ideas here! I don’t see you saying anything that will help the situation!” said Becky. “I think the best thing we can do is go out there and look for survivors. The more people we can get together the better.” “Becky makes a point there. We will need more people. There is safety in numbers and if we can get more people then we can start making this place more secure. There will eventually be raiders coming this way. It might not be tomorrow or next week but they will come eventually,” said Cowan backing up Becky. “Thank you Cowan.”

  Chapter 13- The Faces of Death

  Plague had set out for the open road. The main roads were a no go as they were cluttered with zombies and cars. The back roads was the best option out of the city. He drove down highway 21. The first small city he had to go through was Harrisville. It was a moderate size city. Most of the buildings were set ablaze and black smoke rose in the air. There were obvious signs of looters. Windows were smashed and cars were overturned. He needed to get some gas and after a quick stop to refuel he would take out as many as he could. First he needed to get some clear tubing or a siphon kit.

  He stopped at the local gas station. There were only a few of those damned souls walking around. He went inside and on the first aisle there was a siphoning pump, a long plastic tube and a small gas can. The can was a red color and could only hold two gallons at a time. He exited out the store.

  The number of zombies had grown slightly. He could hear the ungodly sound of their moans. It was best for him to dispatch of the few before more could arrive. He pulled out his trusted axe. The first zombie had its arms stretched out. He grabbed the right hand and pulled the zombie past him as he brought down the axe that went half way through the skill. He put his foot on the back and yanked out the axe. He felt a tug on his shirt. He reached behind him placing his right leg between the legs of the zombie and in one motion bent forward and pulled. The zombie flipped over hitting the ground. He pulled up on the hair and swung severing the head from the body going through bone like a hot knife through butter. The rest were a distance away so he decided he had enough time to siphon the gas and go.

  He grabbed the gas can and headed towards the first car that was not burnt or turned over. He inserted the tube puncturing. He put the other end of the tube into the gas can and started pumping until the can was full. He quickly put on the top to the can and went to his bike. He looked around estimating how much time he had left. Two minutes he guessed. Plenty of time to fill up the tank. He opened the fuel cap on the bike and started pouring in the gas. He needed to get more if he wanted to get anywhere.

  He looked around again and grabbed his AR-15. He placed his sights on the closest zombie and fired. He saw the bullet penetrate the skull and saw the hole. He sighted the next one. The shot was low and blew out part of the throat but the creature stumbled backwards and headed towards his direction again. He lined up the front and rear post and fired again dispatching of the zombie. He killed all of them sending them back to hell or wherever those fucks go.

  He slowly moved down the street keeping an open eye out for any type of movement. He could not see them but he could smell and hear the moans that were carried by the wind. He looked around in the windows as he drove by to see if there were any survivors. Each house and building he saw was completely empty. Either there were no survivors or they were not letting on that anyone was still there.

  He stopped when he was ten miles away from the next city. He sat down on the grass right off the road. It was lunch time and he was starving. He opened up one of the cans that he had in the side pouch. He drank the juice first and reached in and grabbed out the contents. Then he washed it down with a few small swigs of water. The sun was hot but the trees provided some relief. He wiped his hands off on his pants and pulled out his map. The next town seemed like it was big and he was not sure if he was ready to take it on. He saw a side road that he could take which would allow him to bypass most of the city.

  After he passed around six cities he figured it was time to find a place to sleep for the night. The next city no matter how big or small he needed to stop. He made it to the next city, Jacksonville. He drove into it. To his surprise there were not as many zombies as he figured there would be. He chose the first house he came to. It was a decent siz
e house maybe two bedrooms at most he figured. It had a high chain link fence surrounding it. He got off his bike and lifted the handle on the gate and pushed it open. He drove the bike inside and closed the gate.

  He knocked on the door to see if anyone was home. There was no answer. He moved around peeking into the windows cupping his hands around his face. The house was dark and he could not see inside. He walked back towards the front door and decided to try the handle. It was open. He pressed on the door slightly and looked around. He made a quick sweep of the area and found the place abandoned.

  He rummaged through the cabinets looking for something to eat. The cabinets were bare. The only contents the fridge had were condiments and a jar of pickles. He grabbed the pickles and sat down at the old computer that was on the dining room table. He searched the same site as before. There was still no posting about his son. This gave him encouragement and raised his hopes. That was until he turned on the TV. He saw all the destruction that covered the United States. This virus was spreading like wildfire. There seemed like there was no safe haven anywhere in this world anymore. “At this time the CDC has not produced a vaccine or cure to the virus. It is estimated to have a 100% kill rate. However, the CDC is hoping there is someone that has survived the infection. If so they are to head towards the nearest CDC location. These locations are Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, Las Vegas, Phoenix, Tripler AMC, Albuquerque, Dallas, Austin, New Orleans, Kansas City, Minneapolis, Chicago, Indianapolis, Pontiac, Cleveland, Columbus, Buffalo, Birmingham, Atlanta, Greensboro, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York and Boston. These cities will continue to be shown at the bottom of the screen.”

  Plague crossed his arms as if the reporter could see his defiance against going to the CDC. “Yeah they will take you in and dissect your ass. That is definitely not for me. Some other lucky bastard can take that route. They created this shit and they can fix it.” Plague raised his middle finger at the TV. He made his rounds around the house to make sure everything was secure before he fell asleep on the couch.

  He woke up the next day and got on his bike and headed farther down south. As he drove he contemplated the idea of actually heading to the CDC. However, that was miles away from him and he would have to go hundreds of miles to the nearest one which was at Atlanta. He shook the idea off. He first needed to get to his son that was the primary mission. The CDC and the world would have to wait until he accomplished this. Sure he was being selfish but the world was shit and unforgiving. Besides there had to be more immune than just him. The law of averages dictated so. Some other poor bastard could take the plunge and become the human test subject.

  He enjoyed the scenery as he settled on not going to the CDC. The trees were swaying gently in the breeze. There were only a few vehicles that were scattered miles apart. The poor bastards must have run out of gas he thought. He noticed in the country side there were more and more zombies that showed up. He didn’t bother with them and let them be for the time being. The only time he had stopped to kill any of them was when he stopped to spend the night or to fuel up on gas. When he was in the country side though he was able to speed straight through. However, when it came to the cities he had to maneuver and take a slower speed.

  He was on his fourth night and that nagging feeling about him heading to the CDC kicked back in as he watched the local news on rabbit ears. The cable was out in the last two houses and the satellite feed was going in and out. Must be from no human intervention to keep the satellites on course he thought. It was ok though because he was able to get the local channels clearly. He was surprised they were still broadcasting. Hell he was amazed that some of the places still had electricity. He imagined those poor bastards still working at the utility plant struggling to maintain power to those few people that were still alive.

  He tried the computer but there was no internet access. The internet must be out in this area he thought. All he could think about was his son but it would take time to get to him. That is if he was still alive. He looked at the phone and he had the urge to try and raise his son. He picked up the phone and dialed him. He was in luck the phone rang. It kept ringing a couple of times. He was sure he would get the voicemail again. This time someone picked up the phone. The voice that answered was not his son. “Who is this?” he said. “Who the fuck is this?” came the response. “How did you get my son’s phone?” “I took it off a dead body.” Plague’s heart plummeted through the floor. He felt woozy. This was the last bit of news that he didn’t wanted to hear. It was hard to swallow. Sometimes the truth is always hard to hear. He lowered the phone to his waist. He tried to accept the news. The voice on the other end was saying something but he did not hear. He did not care to hear.

  He sat down on the couch. He felt like the world just ended. There was nothing left for him to do. The only thoughts that went through his mind was to end his life. He could have done it the easy way and blow off his head. He decided against it because he heard stories of people surviving the gun shots. Then his mind raced to chemicals. He could swallow poisonous chemicals. That was not the way he wanted to end his life. That would be agonizingly slow and who knows if that would finally end his life. He did not have any pills that he could overdose on and he doubted the house would have any. He needed to make sure there was nothing he couldn’t take.

  He raced to the bathroom to see if there were any medicines in the cabinet. When he got to the bathroom. There was no medicine cabinet. “Fuck!” He went to the master bedroom and opened all the drawers. He found something but he was not sure what the hell it was. The medicine bottle read Seroquel take two tablets at night. He emptied the container into his palm. There were only eight of them. He was sure this was not enough but he hoped it would do the trick.

  He tossed the pills inside his hand still uncertain if he was ready to end his life. He just stared at the pills counting them one by one. Each time he came up with the same number. He moved each pill with his fingers as if this would miraculously make him decide to take them. This would definitely end his suffering. All it would take was swallowing a few pills. He popped them in his mouth but he just could not swallow them. He spit them out into the trash. He did not survive a bite that would certainly have killed anyone else. He was Plague the bringer of the second death and a man that had nothing else to lose. This made him dangerous.

  He went to the back room that had a desk. He opened the drawers searching for some paper and a pen or pencil. When he found what he was looking for he placed the paper down on the desk. Holding the corner of the paper with his left hand he began to write, St. Augustine, Miami, Keys, Panama City, New Orleans, The Alamo, The Grand Canyon, Las Vegas. It was time to do some sightseeing. He figured he would add to the list as he thought of more places to visit. He folded the paper in half once and then twice.

  A kilt he thought to himself. Yes he needed more trophies so he could make a kilt. He was not Ed Gein but he would make do.

  Plague returned to the outer world wielding just his axe and a pot. He looked around and there were not too many of the dead walking around. He started to bang on the pot to attract some. He would play it safe this time. Since there was a fence he would lure them inside one by one until he was able to get enough to make his kilt. He saw the first one come by. Plague gripped the axe letting it hang loose by his side. He lifted up the latch and swung the door inward allowing the zombie inside. He swung the axe slicing off the head. One by one he lured them in using the same manner until he decided he had enough.

  He took the heads inside and started cutting and peeling off the faces and salted them down. He went to his pack and pulled out the previous faces and inspected them. Then he laid them out on the counter. He proceeded to pull out some dipshit chord and measured his waist and cut a piece off. He needed to know how long he needed to make his own kilt. He went into the master bedroom and found a leather belt.

 

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