World of Ashes II

by J. K. Robinson

  Daniel checked the chamber and racked a round. “I’ll take first watch.” He said.

  “Been traveling the world on a music tour. You go ahead and get some shuteye.” Mark said. He waited for Daniel to be out of sight and opened the sliding lid to his ring. It was in fact a movie prop his employer had given him from his last spy thriller, but it was also water proof and if you removed the blue diode inside it was a glorious place to hide a line of coke. Four countries and not one had ever checked to see if his ring was a hidden compartment. Mark considered it good luck, as well as a place to keep his favorite vice close.

  Daniel closed his eyes and tried to sleep, though it was a wasted effort. Fitful and full of nightmares of what they’d seen that day he didn’t stay out for long. He woke to find Mark wasn’t there, or at least not inside the shed anymore. At first, Daniel thought he’d stepped outside to piss, but after almost an hour Mark hadn’t come back. His shoes were still there too, so it didn’t make sense that he’d have run off. Daniel flipped the safety onto the fire selection and let Lea down gently to sleep on his blanket for a pillow. “Mark?” He whispered loudly. There was no response. The tool shed was at least a few hundred square feet, some grease monkey’s MOPAR wet dream. It was “decorated” with naked women and muscle cars on outdated calendars adorning every space not allotted to antique oil cans and spare parts for who knew what kind of car. Mark wasn’t in in the shadows or behind any cabinets, but there was a small bathroom hidden behind a stack of used tires and Daniel took the time to piss and wash his face in an oil stained sink. Obviously Mark hadn’t had to leave to relieve himself, so where was he? Daniel had been sweating profusely since landing and probably smelled like he’d been on the lamb for weeks, it occurred to him to change his clothes and his mind began to wander. What if he’d taken the later flight home? Would he have ever left England? Or maybe the earlier flight, but then who would be here for Lea? Mark? The hell with that.

  Looking to his left Daniel saw through the small vent window that Mark was standing in the yard like a creepy statue. Sneaking out the door, he walked up behind their companion. “Mark? Are you okay?” He wasn’t scared, he knew how to perform riot duties and wasn’t beyond shooting someone to keep himself safe right now.

  “It’s burning…” Mark said. “It’s all… burning…”

  Daniel looked over the tree line, the night sky was aglow in bright orange and blood red hues from a thousand fires that raced across Georgetown and Arlington. The sun had set, but there wouldn’t have been any light even if it were high noon. Pillars of black smoke faded the fires in the distance, it would have made air travel impossible, air rescue a pipe dream. What escape did they have now? Was stealing someone’s car even an option? Stay on task. Situational Awareness. Basic training wasn’t that long ago, damnit.

  “We need to get back inside.” Daniel said, looking around suspiciously.

  “I know… I just… couldn’t… I didn’t think I’d ever see my home burn.” Mark said, turning his head to look at Daniel briefly. “I was in high school when they hit the Twin Towers. I enlisted the next week. I thought it would make us safe again but we failed.”

  “You think its terrorists?”

  “How could it not be?”

  “I have to get back home and get to my unit. They’ll be calling us up by now.”

  Mark laughed. “You’re kidding yourself, Dannyboy. Yesterday this was just race rioting in a couple different cities, but now?” Mark gestured wildly at the horizon. “Where else is this? Don’t go near the Army, Dan. You have the perfect excuse to lay low until this blows over. Nobody will blame you.”

  “I’m not a deserter.” Daniel protested, possibly a little more insulted than he should have been. Mark didn’t know him or his story, why would he assume Daniel was simply too patriotic to quit, that despite his reserved outward appearance Daniel was the kind of man to be the last man on the last gun for the last fight. Then again, what kind of guy was Mark if he would encourage a soldier to go or stay AWOL? Was this his version of caring?

  There was a sound in the bushes behind Mark. He turned around and fired a shot at it, which didn’t hide his most unmanly shriek of terror. From the bushes there was a loud yelping sound and a fat looking mop of a dog came running from the darkness, its hind leg dragging uselessly behind it. The dog fell and laid down whimpering before Daniel’s feet. He rushed up to it and tried to see where the plump old boy was hit, but the dog was dead before he found the wound.

  “…fuck you, Mark… What the hell are you doing, man?” Daniel turned to face Mark, maybe even to hit him, but instead saw his first plague victim up close and personal. It had come from the shadows toward the sound of the gun, now the grayish colored woman in her finest trailer park evening attire, complete with heat-curlers and bunny slippers, was in the process of swallowing Mark’s throat.

  Panicking as he was dragged down, Mark fired several shots through her stomach, but the ghoul continued to eat him even after he’d stopped struggling. Daniel shot her once in the head, possibly by luck because he couldn’t see very well in the dark with so much panic sweat burning his eyes and adrenaline coursing through his veins. The plague victim dropped to the ground with a thud. Mark was still twitching when Daniel rushed over to check him for a pulse. It was a futile effort, the wound to his neck irreparable even under the best of conditions. Lea was standing over them, watching with unabashed horror as Daniel stood up and tried to wipe the blood and freshly cut grass off his pants. He succeeded only in making a more gruesome mess and stopped to pick up the second M9 before he made things worse. Daniel handed Lea Mark’s gun with a look that said I think you’re going to need this.

  Now just two, they spent the rest of the night and most of the early morning hiding in the tool shed. This time with everything that wasn’t bolted down up against the doors and windows, they felt a little safer. Several people, some running, others shambling, passed through the yard none the wiser that there was anyone watching them. The slow ones Daniel surmised must be infected with whatever was making people crazy. They looked like corpses, sometimes grievous and certainly mortal wounds covered their bodies, bones and guts hanging out or dragging between their legs. There was no logical reason why these people would still be standing, even if they were under the influence of a virus or a drug the simple loss of blood should make them immobile. In Mark’s suitcase was another three magazines for each gun and a second chance vest that didn’t fit either of them. The shed had a tap for water, but no food, unless you consider sardines and Copenhagen long cut to be food. If they wanted to survive one or both would have to venture out of their hideaway.

  Like a solar eclipse, the day was dusk when Daniel finally felt brave enough to open the door again. During the surreal blackout from the ash clouds he decided it would be a good time to attempt to get into the house the shed sat behind. The back door was still locked, but climbing to a second story window let them in. Lea was locking the window behind them when she pointed to the scene of death from last night. Daniel looked too and saw only the dead dog and woman, Mark’s body was gone in the direction the woman had come from. A trail of blood from where he had been led beyond the yard and away from the house. Lea flipped on the lights, probably by habit, and Daniel flipped them back off and covered her mouth before she could curse at him.

  “Why did you do that?” Lea asked in a whisper when she figured out he wanted her to be quiet. Could there be people in the house after all? She was suddenly concerned.

  “Because I don’t want anyone to know we’re here. Help me clear the house so we can make it safe to stay the night in.” Daniel found a dim flashlight and began scouring the second level of the two story farm house for anyone who might still be there. The shades were mostly all drawn, and those that weren’t they pulled down. The front door was locked, and so was the ramp to the basement. They found lots of food and a nearly limitless supply of boring architecture magazines stacked in every corner. Alas, no guns or a
mmo. Typical, this was the DC area after all. Lea brought a TV up to the main level’s bathroom, the only room that had a window with a solid roof outside if they had to jump down to for a quick escape. Daniel blacked out the window with three layers of tin foil and plugged in the TV. The Global News Network was being patched through on almost every channel, overriding most local stations and even some cable networks. The video feeds showed people on the front lines of the riots, which were anything but actual riots. Border Patrol and riot police were mowed down by the hundreds in one wave after another of bloodied people. They were devoured on live television, no time for the censors to stop it all or even bleep out the heart stopping screams. The tidal wave of human flesh crashed over the camera crew, the last seconds of footage saw the reporter being eaten alive from her bellybutton to her neck, blood spraying everywhere and flowing like a river to the camera lens as it lay sideways on the pavement.

  “What is this?” Lea asked rhetorically, sipping at peppermint schnapps she’d found in the freezer. She didn’t want to be sober right now. “Why are they eating each other?”

  “It’s got to be a drug or something, like that bath salt shit. We need to find someone around here who knows what’s going on. But if we run into a military unit, don’t tell them I’m National Guard. I want to get back to my unit. I have friends I can trust in the area and my NCO’s are Veterans of the War on Terror. I don’t trust anyone else.”

  “They walk like Voodoo Zombies.” Lea observed. “Watch that one. He was running and then just fell. No one shot him, he just died. Now he’s getting back up, but he’s much slower than before, like he’s disoriented maybe.”

  “And I thought I had an anal retentive attention to detail. Damn.” Daniel was impressed. He had been watching the breaking news stories scrawl across the bottom of the screen, not paying any attention to the carnage in front of them. “Maybe that’s what happened to Mark’s body. I mean, look at their wounds. These people should be dead, I mean really dead, but they get back up and keep hunting.”

  “The stereotype of Asian study habits is true for me.” Lea smiled, “My parents were demanding that way. Wish I had a violin to play with right now, it would be so relaxing. I was in London for a concert, but it was canceled because of security crackdowns. I think the Brits knew what was happening over here.”

  “I agree. They’re not calling them zombies, though. That old guy on the Alphebetsoup network, he keeps referring to them as Infected Citizens. So, what are they infected with?” Daniel popped open an expensive beer and chugged it. This was already his fifth one, but he wasn’t nearly drunk enough to accept that his home was under attack by pandemic.

  “Give me one.” Lea took a beer and started drinking it to wash out the flavor of the schnapps. “I like to sneak out and drink and smoke weed at the hillbilly’s house next door. My dad forgets to set the house alarm at night. Ya gotta let off some steam once in a while, ya know?” Daniel nodded in agreement. “Especially when your mom is listening to Justin Bieber. She thinks he sounds like that shitty folk music from the old country they play in every Chinese restaurant. I don’t even think she knows what he’s saying.”

  “So where are you from?”

  “I’m from Palm Beach, but my parents are from South Korea.”

  “So do you want to try to wait it out here, or are we going to move?”

  “We can make that decision in the morning. Is the barricade set?” Lea finished her beer and laid on the mattress she’d stuffed into the bathtub. Daniel slept in the recliner he’d parked in front of the toilet. Using the toilet was still possible, it wasn’t like one or the other couldn’t stand outside the bathroom for a few minutes. At least they were occupied, tedium and fear not yet entering into the equation and for now their morale stayed high.

  Chapter 2

  By the sixth day they both smelled terrible and were low on toilet paper as much as food. Pulling Lea’s mattress out of the tub gave them a chance to shower after neither could stand their own stink anymore, but it only pointed out how untenable this one room was. Lea showered first, Daniel patiently waiting his turn but not leaving the room. He was almost asleep though, rewatching the same horrific stories play out across the country when Lea reached out with her wet hands and tugged at Daniel’s shirt just slightly.

  He turned his head and looked up. Lea was splendidly nude, her small breasts towered over him like the amber fields of Elysium, leading his eyes down to the diamond stud on a gold ring in her belly button, then onto a gently groomed tuft of short black hair that seemed a precursor to something amazing. Daniel’s on-again off-again girlfriend back home was forgotten in an instant as he drew his lips to hers for an “Australian Kiss.” It’s just like a regular kiss, but Down Unda’. Lea arched her back and pulled Daniel’s clothes off. The change of pace from idle conversation to romantic intercourse was welcome, it relieved the tension and fear of an early and traumatic death.

  Late the next day as Daniel plotted their move to the house next door for more supplies. He was making a list of foods they didn’t have to cook or freeze wheb they heard a crash in an upstairs window on the other side of the house. It took a while to remove the complex series of deadbolts Daniel had installed with just his Leatherman Multitool, but it was at least plenty of time to get dressed. When the door opened Daniel came around the corner and found the barrel of an M4 already in his face. There was no time to raise his gun, the heavy footfalls of another rifleman behind him already in position to end his life in a heartbeat negated any chance to take control of the situation. The best he could hope to do was hit one in the face with the stock of the rifle before the other shot him.

  “Calm down, we’re not here to rob you. We thought this place was empty. It was dark and the dead chick outside kinda spelled out a common story.”

  Daniel wouldn’t let them into the bathroom they’d been hiding in, but he was courteous enough to speak when they lowered their rifles. “What’s going on out there? The news says its Occupy Protesters on Meth or some shit, other people say it’s like Mad Cow disease and those bath salts. We’ve seen people eat each other on tv.”

  “The truth, kid?” One shrugged. “The dead are walking. They bite you, you go berserk for a few minutes, bite and attack your loved ones, your comrades, then suddenly you die. Only problem is, you don’t stay dead. You get back up and like them Voodoo zombies you shamble around aimlessly until you find someone you want to eat.”

  “What?” Lea was still pulling her shirt down over her chest when she stepped out. Not everyone was as shy as Daniel. “We saw it on the news, but we didn’t know exactly...”

  “Yeah, you can’t believe the news. They say there are safe zones, but we just came from one of those fucking FEMA camps. They’re herding people onto trains, kid, like a slaughter house. Do you know who else in history did that?”

  “North Korea. China during the reign of Pol Pot, the Japanese during World War Two, the U.S. in deporting Mexicans by train in 1954, Japanese Americans a decade before that, the Soviet Union, the Third Reich…” Lea put her hands on her hips, probably to list more of history’s notorious baddies, but Dabniel motioned with his hand to let it rest.

  The two men looked at her, then at each other. They shared Daniel’s sense of feeling less than two feet tall in Lea’s towering intellectual presence. “We’re not going back there kid, and you shouldn’t either.” The second man said. “Greg, c’mon. We need to find another house. This one’s occupied.”

  “You can stay here.” Lea offered quickly. “We would love to have some extra guns around in case those infected people show up again. Just please, don’t rape my friend Daniel. He’s a sensitive boy.” Daniel flipped her off.

  “Lady, right now you should be more scared of the Government than the Plague Vics or us. Assuming you even make it into those so-called ‘safe’ concentration camps. Half the troops and police are shooting people on sight. The Army is really panicking. I’ve seen Marines and Army shooting at each
other, we watched an Air Force jet and two Navy fighters going at each other over the bay yesterday. It’s fucking pandemonium out there.”

  “How is the President not handling this?” Lea was in disbelief.

  “Seriously?” All three men said at once. She was probably the only one in the group who’d voted for him.

  Greg and Rick, two private drywall contractors from Maryland, opted to sleep in the living room downstairs. They didn’t trust Daniel and Lea any more than they did anyone else. People had turned savage, and not necessarily just the dead ones. Without the TV they could hear people screaming from one direction or another almost all night long. One after another the screams would fade out, and sometimes even be cut short. Gunshots echoed through the subdivisions, the distinctive slam of cars hitting other cars, the clanking of tanks and the shouts of troops were a constant over the next three very sleepless days and nights. After that, the calm could be more eerie than the distant fighting.

  Their second week of hiding had forced them to the point where provisions were critically low. Rick even brought the sardines inside from the car shed, but he was the only one who would eat them. Early one morning while Daniel covered their progress down the street with a rifle from the second story bedroom, Rick and Greg slipped into a nearby quick-mart to take whatever other looters had left behind. Lots of canned or dry food, no alcohol or medicine, they made a second trip just before dawn and ran into another looter. Daniel had switched out with Greg for the second run, because Greg was out of shape and couldn’t move fast enough anymore. Daniel tried to reason with the desperate man, even offered him everything they’d gathered thus far, but he wasn’t listening. He wanted their guns, and to be taken back to their hideout. His rusty looking .32 hammerless revolver didn’t seem very intimidating to Daniel, and he raised his rifle. Their wouldbe assailant pulled the trigger and the revolver’s cylinder exploded in his hand. Screaming bloody murder, he didn’t notice Daniel and Greg snatch the supplies and make a run for it. The last thing heard from the parking lot was another human shitbag joining the ranks of the enemy’s army in a final blood curdling howl as they dragged him down in a grizzly swarm.