I was bewildered. What the hell was going on? ran through my mind at high speed as I started putting groceries away. Then I turned on the radio and a FEMA announcement was broadcasting there also.
"We interrupt normal programming to bring you news live from Washington D.C., where the Secretary of Homeland Security is addressing the Nation." Another voice immediately followed the announcer’s. "The Department of Homeland Security is issuing a national advisory warning. The flu virus has officially reached epidemic proportions within the continental United States and there are widespread reports of looting and vandalism going on in most major cities and some smaller rural communities. We are issuing an advisory warning for all individuals to stay in their homes during the current crisis. This applies to everyone not associated with civil law enforcement, emergency and crisis workers or medical personnel. If you must report to work, do so cautiously, as we have received reports of roving bands and some of the encounters with these criminals have been quite deadly. Please wear facial protection when going outdoors and communicating with other individuals. The CDC has also issued a report that the flu has now infected over a third of the population of the United States. There are also reports of some mutations of the flu virus causing an increase in mortality rates. We strongly urge all citizens to stay indoors until authorities have brought this contagion under control. Please my friends, this is for your safety. Stay indoors." The announcer came back on when the Homeland Security Secretary was finished to inform us that the normal broadcast would resume. I turned it off and thought, maybe I should grab a couple more guns, just in case.
There was a pounding at my back door. What the fuck?! I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound and then felt like slapping myself when rounding the corner to the back room; I saw that it was just Michael, my cop neighbor from the house next door. Actually, Michael was practically my only neighbor within shouting distance. He looked frantic and he opened the door and came in when he saw me.
"Brother, grab your guns. This is it and no joke." He not only looked scared but also like he was about to cry. I noticed he had his bulletproof vest on and was wearing his service automatic and yet I knew he had the day off.
"What?" I was bewildered. What in hell was he talking about?
"Zombies!" He deadpanned. My jaw dropped.
*****
That night and the following morning was crazy times, I had dusted off my old shortwave receiver and my listening in across the United States and Europe we learned quite a bit more about the undead and the state of the World in general. Some scientists were conducting experiments in Europe. Probably in the U.S. too, but those U.S. experiments were not being broadcast on shortwave. The European scientists were holed up in their version of our CDC in Belgium. They had a detachment of Swiss troops guarding them and were working as fast as they could, trying to figure this out. Communications were down worldwide with the exception of shortwave and military communications. The cell phones quit working this afternoon. Not sure why. We were still getting a signal, but just silence then beeping came over the speaker when we tried to dial out.
The zombies were in truth zombies mostly. The Europeans had found out much by carefully monitoring several subjects that had gotten sick from the vaccines. By examining the subjects’ brainwaves and other vital signs through the super fever, then cool down and subsequent rage, it was determined that there really were no brainwaves left. Not as we knew them. Instead, what remained was some limited activity at the brain stem, or the lower brain as it’s called. This is where all our instinctive responses are located. Like breathing, basic motor skills like walking, and of course the instinct to eat in a most predatory way. Neanderthal level I guess, or even earlier, perhaps animalistic. They were finding the virus to be an actual parasite that linked itself together like a hive. The scientists speculated that within a human host it had a hive mind that was constantly hungry. That actually made sense in an awful way. The only good news out of Europe was that if you were bitten you would not catch it. Somehow, the virus or parasite bonded with its host almost immediately upon vaccination. Once bonded it could not survive in another vessel. When hearing that I would not become like them if bitten, you have no idea how relieved I was. With zombie blood and guts everywhere, it would be almost impossible not to become infected if the reverse were true. Hell, we would all have to wear HAZMAT suits and fighting in those was a bitch. This I knew from firsthand experience.
More disturbing news. Either God was weeding out his creations or this thing was mutating. The people from Europe were saying we had been hit three different times. First, by the original vaccine that they gave to the military and health care workers, and that sort had a minimum gestation period of three weeks before people got sick. Then the second vaccination series distributed to the third world countries had a two-week gestation period before people dropped like flies. Then the last round of vaccinations rushed on the public showed that people were succumbing within two to three days after receiving it.
Now, normally I don’t believe in coincidences. I still don't. The three rounds of vaccinations resulting in almost everyone getting sick within the same timeframe. Lab mutations? The scientists that were broadcasting were hesitant to speculate, but if you read between the lines, the gist was that this whole mess was manmade, and there was careful planning put into it. The odds of anything else were mind-bogglingly against it.
It was depressing. Maybe ten percent of the human race was left alive or would be left alive after everyone got sick that was going to get sick. Maybe less. Of the ninety percent that did get sick from the vaccinations and died, about eighty percent of them came back from the dead as zombies. So not all, just most. Factoring in how many people were killed by the zombies by the end of the first day and my best guess was maybe five percent of the people on this planet were still alive.
*****
Tommie and Abigail had been trying to remain hidden and quiet. This was something very hard for little Jack to do. He was their miracle child, their precious gift from God. The two of them had never hoped to conceive a child until little Jack came along, as Abigail had been diagnosed with ovarian cancer at nineteen. The doctors said she would be unable to conceive after three surgeries and even more chemotherapy. However, they had lived their lives happy with each other, only missing the one thing that would fulfill the void within them. A child of their own. A child, Thomas, or Tommy as his friends called him, could pass his small woodworking business too when he retired. Abigail didn't care about passing a business on in retirement; she had grown up as a young girl dressing her stuffed animals in baby clothes waiting the day when she would have a child of her own to care for, to nurture, and raise.
That day came when they were least expecting it. They'd married at eighteen, against both their parents' wishes. Now twenty-two years later, she unexpectedly became sick. Throwing up, bloating, and her breasts hurt. They were worried it was a new onset of cancer. They had expected the worse when they scheduled the doctor’s appointment, and she went in for a full checkup.
Tommy and Abigail couldn't begin to describe the feeling they experienced, nor the wonder in the doctor’s voice and eyes when he informed them...she was pregnant. It was against all hope and medical science. A partial ovary and ravaged Fallopian tubes were all she had within her, but the miracle had still happened. A one in a million chance, but it did. She immediately quit her job and did everything to keep the child within her healthy. Tommy put in fewer hours at his business, regardless of customer requests he received. This baby was more important than they were. He was her triumph. He was their legacy, their little miracle.
During the last two months of her pregnancy, she rarely got out of bed, for little Jack would be arriving soon so she took no chances. Yes, they knew his name. Because of the rarity of a conception of this type, she was receiving ultrasounds every month from the third month on, so they knew it would be a boy. In their youth, they had fantasized about one day having a child
, even knowing such a thing would never happen. However, they needed these fantasies to stay sane. Even so, up until the moment of revelation by an incredulous doctor they still led fulfilling lives, very much in love and dedicated to each other like few other couples. They were the everything of each, and their love knew no boundaries.
Then little Jack was born and he was so perfect. So beautiful and right in their lives. No expense they or their parents could afford was spared. He was, after all, their miracle. Then he started growing, and boy, did he grow. He was also all little man, and as anxious parents they dreaded his daily rough activities afraid he would be hurt or worse. It took all her willpower to allow him to grow up somewhat normally. Yet now, growing up had suddenly become a live and death issue.
When their neighbors first started turning strange, they didn't know what to think. Everything was strange. You could not turn on the TV or listen to the radio without hearing the government warnings cycling repeatedly. Something having to do with the flu shot, the vaccinations that they had not received yet. Oh, they'd meant to. But little Jack was just getting over a bad cold, and Tommy and Abigail wanted to give him an extra day or two before they loaded his system down with more immunizations, and this was something they would do as a family.
However, people started walking across their lawn, stumbling actually and appeared sick. When Tommy went out to talk to them to find out what was going on and if he could help, they had actually attacked him. Tommy and Abigail had immediately locked all of the doors, and it was only then that the TV news issued warnings to avoid strangers. So, they had hidden within their home. From behind closed blinds and drapery, they had watched the savagery occur within their neighborhood. Tommy and Abigail were beyond scared, not for themselves, but for their little Jack.
Now it was coming to an end. The creatures, their deranged neighbors, had finally broken in. Abigail and Tommy had nothing to fight them with, nothing to defend themselves from the horrors intruding into their home. As devout New Testament Christians, they firmly believed in turning the other cheek. However, this day they had to do more than just turn their cheeks, they could only use the weight of their bodies against the doors trying to keep the creatures out. It had worked for that day. Now the day was ending.
"Baby, I will try holding them back. But you have to hide little Jack." Tommy was frantic. They had slid the dining room hutch across the floor to block the hallway to the kitchen but it would not hold them long. They knew their time was short, already they could hear boards splintering. He held her hands tenderly, his tears splashing their joined wrists. "We have no time left. I love you baby with all my heart," his voice was breaking. He reached down and caressed his small son's face with the palm of his hand. The last touch he would have in this life. He cherished it and turned to meet their invaders as his beloved Abigail solemnly nodded with her own tears streaming down her cheeks, then turning away taking little Jack with her. He watched them retreat with a sad smile on his face, as his back pressed tightly against the cherry wood hutch he had handcrafted from a few boards. He felt the creatures slamming against it, felt it breaking. There was no more time. No time for more kisses. No time for more hugs. His only regret was that there were not a dozen of him to protect his family.
His face clouded up and determination settled in. He turned in place and braced his wide strong hands against the lovingly created masterpiece he had built for his family. Only moments now were all he had left. His mind went back to their earliest days together. He and Abigail, fantasizing about having a child when they knew they could not. But, that child had been born. A precious miracle of life.
The remaining boards splintered around him as he fell back half a step. He lifted his face to the Lord and a firm look countenanced his features as his head tilted downwards directed at the approaching invaders.
"You will not have my SON!" he roared. He stretched his arms out sideways in the narrow hallway, with his fingers digging into the painted sheet rock. He didn't even feel the pain when the bones in three of his fingers snapped. With almost superhuman strength, he tensed, pulling his arms forward as his hands dug through the plaster grasping the wooden two-by-fours within the walls and held on; his face turned to meet them with a snarl. It was the only defiance he had left, for his body was the barrier. He would hold them back as long as possible. He would hold them back long enough.
"Go Abby," he whispered as he started the Lord's Prayer, images of his wife and son filling his mind, a kaleidoscope of memories he cherished and would die with. He felt the creatures slam into him. He held. They were biting him now. Still he held. He heard their growls, and he growled back staring their expressionless faces in the eyes. They were clawing at his waist and legs now, and the pain was unimaginable. But images of little Jack filled his mind. And he clung, and held on screaming his hate and rage.
Abigail pulled little Jack to the kitchen. They had discussed this; she had no idea what to do. She could only think to open the cupboard little Jack was always hiding in when he played hide and seek with her. He went inside and willingly. He was scared and he knew something was wrong, but he was trusting mommy and daddy to make it right. That this was only a game. He looked up as mommy placed him in his favorite hiding spot and saw her smiling down at him. She leaned in and kissed him tenderly, as she always did. A mommy’s kiss, only longer. He could see wetness on her face, he didn't understand. Then she played the game. She told him to pretend he was asleep so she could hide. "Pretend for five minutes," she said. "Then lay there until I come back for you. Do not make a sound. Just like at bedtime." He felt bottles being pressed against him. She was laying bottles of water on top and around him after loosening their tops. Why was she doing that? A bag of Oreos, followed by chips, and then his favorite blanket. He remembered her last kiss. Then he heard her last whisper. "Stay quiet until I come back, like always. Be a good boy Jack. We love you. Never forget, baby." The cupboard door closed. He was confused but it was a game. It was okay.
Abigail rose with her shoulders in a set position. There were so many things she wanted to tell her son, but there was no time. She hoped, if their Jack survived, that he would at least remember a mommy's last warm embrace, and her and Tommy's love for him. She turned slightly to the muted sounds her husband, her love, was making as he held them back for a few more moments. She could do no less to try to save their son. She reached over the counter and pulled her two largest butchers knives out of the hardwood butcher’s block Tommy had made her, sticking them behind her belt. Then looking up and reaching overhead, she pulled two pans from the rack suspended there. She backed to the mudroom door waiting. And they came. She did not doubt they would. She saw them look around and immediately started banging the pots together over her head.
"Hey! Look at me! I'm what you want!" Abigail shouted. Her mind was clear with the knowledge her Tommy was gone, but she was determined to save their son. Instantly, the creatures turned towards her and started moving forward. She saw what looked like fresh blood on some of their faces. She did not bother wondering whose it was; she knew it was Tommy's. She backed through the door leading them. Oh my, they followed her. She opened the back door, dodging the creatures waiting there and continued to lead the others away from the house banging the pans continuously. They soon had her surrounded with no room to dodge or run, so she dropped the pans and pulled the butcher knives out as they descended on her. What she felt then was transcended by her love for her son. She was giving him the only legacy she had left to give. The legacy of life. She clenched her teeth tightly against the pain and started slashing silently.
*****
Little Jack had pretended to be asleep for the five minutes, then five minutes more. Now it had been too long. Mommy was coming back. She was just taking a long time. He heard the loud noises but sometimes mommy did that in their game at bedtime. She made noises to try to fool him. However, he was a smart boy. Then he heard many other sounds, feet shuffling on the floor and growls. He was scared.
After a while, there was silence. Then Tolly came to him. She pushed her nose against the cupboard door crack and forced her way in lying down next to him. He hugged her tight. Now he was really scared but exhausted. He fell asleep.
The next morning when he woke he was thirsty. He drank from a bottle of water momma had left. She had loosened the tops so he could open them himself. He was afraid to go out. Mommy had not come back yet. Daddy didn't come for him either. Where are mommy and daddy? he thought as he ate Oreo cookies. Tolly was here, he shared his cookies with her. He didn't know what Border Collie meant, but he heard "collie" so she was Tolly. It was simple to him. It was also cold, and Tolly kept him warm. It was before his naptime but he fell asleep anyways holding her. Where were mommy and daddy?
He finished the Oreo cookies. He still had two bottles of water. He could count to ten after all. Tolly ate the chips. He only got to eat two or three, so he shoved her out the cupboard door as he was really mad. But he didn't leave the hiding spot. Mommy didn't say to leave. He was getting hungry, really hungry.
Later that day, Tolly dragged her dog food bag to the cupboard door. That was her food, not meant for him. But it didn't taste that bad. It was crunchy and actually tasted pretty good. He hoped mommy and daddy did not see him eating Tolly's food. They would yell at him but he was hungry, so it was okay. He waited. Mommy did not come back. He continued to wait. He had to go to the bathroom but by now, he was beyond scared. He was afraid to leave the kitchen. He peeked out Tolly's dog door into the back yard and saw many strangers. He didn't see mommy or daddy, so he did his business in the corner over by the stove. He didn't know where else to go. The refrigerator was still cold inside and he drank some milk, spilling it all over the floor in the process. Mommy would be mad! But he was too small to get a sippy cup down. He cried a lot. Where were Mommy and Daddy? He called softly for them, they didn't answer; and mommy never said he could leave, so he hid back in his favorite cupboard with his blanket and Tolly and waited. He slept a lot.
The Reaper: No Mercy Page 24
