by catt dahman
Alan, the President of the US, had a mind as empty and burned out as the land he traversed. And if anyone asked him what it was like as the President, he would give that person a blank, baffled look with no real idea what the words meant in relation to him.
9
Inoculation
Hannah sometimes heard gunshots and a few screams, but mostly it was very quiet. When she went next door, armed to the teeth, she found the family all turned. The mother was a Red and came at Hannah, but the girl sidestepped her and used the axe to knock her down. It was simple then to deliver the killing blow with her axe, shattering the skull and then to use her foot to hold the head while she worked the axe back out.
She slammed it home again into a teen boy’s head, and then after kicking two children away, she used a baseball bat to bash open their heads. What she really wanted was a sword; however, she found a revolver and bullets and with a little experimenting knew exactly how to use the revolver.
The next-door neighbors had a lot of water and foodstuffs in the house, which she took as well as an impressive first aid kit. She exhausted herself carrying the supplies back to her house in a wheelbarrow she found but was pleased with the haul.
On the other side, no one was home, and she made an even bigger haul. She just finished and showered when in the kitchen, a light brighter than any she ever saw exploded a few miles away. She shielded her eyes and fell to the floor as the ground rocked a little, but aside from a few things falling, there was no real damage; the windows rattled but didn’t break. Curious, she went to look, and far away, she saw a mushroom cloud that chilled her to the bone.
It was most likely the Red River Army Depot near Texarkana. Whether another country did this or her own country, she didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.
To be safe, she decided that she would stay inside for a few weeks, at least until there was a hard rain.
A few miles away, Chase and Adam saw the mushroom cloud as they shored up the outside windows for safety.
“Holy shit,” Adam muttered.
“I wonder what all we are hitting?”
“You think we did this?”
“I don’t think the rest of the world is in any condition to do it. So, yes, I do.”
“Why?” Adam asked.
“I suspect it’s to knock out the heavy zom population in the big cities and to eliminate a few ammunition developers such Red River Army Depot. We better get inside and lie low for a few weeks so we don’t have radiation problems.”
“How can we do that?”
“Panic maybe.”
“I mean…who could? A little button isn’t lying around for someone to push; who did it? Who had the know-how and the equipment? Where are they?”
Chase looked at him strangely. “Wow. I don’t know…I didn’t think of that. I mean…so the President or Vice was maybe alive and in a bunker somewhere. It means someone is still alive.”
“Unless a different country did this,” Adam said.
“That’s possible. But we have like satellites that intercept them…right? So it had to come from us.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
Adam followed her inside. They puzzled over it but didn’t know what to think.
At the makeshift Rescue Station, they just got into the school, and it began to collapse around them. The ceiling came down, and rubble was everywhere. Zombies were also everywhere.
Losing track of the rest, Ed, Alex, Bob, and the doctor ducked into a small room and covered their heads. Evvie began to run outside the building, dodging and swatting at the monsters as she went. Everyone else followed her through the front of the school and into the street where they could see the mushroom cloud.
Some of the ones who followed them wanted to run the other way, and a man named Chris led them as they ran. They would never be seen again.
The heat was intense enough that they would all have bad sunburn-type burns in a few hours. They ran as a group past the Bucks and Ducks store and to a mom and pop grocery that stood three stories in an old, but sturdy building that took little damage. On the bottom floor, they sold food, beer, and miscellaneous items. The second floor contained living quarters, an office, and an employee lounge. The third was divided and rented as three units.
“We want to get every usable item upstairs and then block the stairs and seal ourselves in so we don’t worry about radiation or zeds,” Evvie said.
“Food?”
“Candles, matches, medicines, feminine products, buckets, rope, everything just about has a use except skip electronics and junk. Take canned meats, vegetables, and fruits first, next first aid supplies, then bagged and packaged things. Forget frozen items except for the veggies and fruits, and grab a little bread and fresh stuff; skip the meat except what we can cook over the next day.”
Evvie leaned over the counter and found a shotgun. She grinned.
Around her, everyone was loading carts and baskets quickly.
“Ron and Patrick, grab a weapon, and come with me; we need to secure the upper floors.”
A small service elevator was still working for at least a while, so they stepped into it. “Head shots,” Ron reminded his partners.
The man who owned the store was a Red who seemed to be waiting on them as he attacked with a moan, trying to bite. Patrick tripped him with a shovel and then banged him on the head. With the blade at the man’s throat, his head was fairly still, and Ron poked a spike into the eye socket and wiggled it. The man oozed blood and yellowy pus but stopped moving. Ron vomited into a plant.
A woman was locked in her room with two small girls, scared to death of the monster her husband became. Evvie explained they needed shelter, and the woman was eager to help out and welcomed them. “He was a mean husband anyway,” she said. The men tossed the man out the window.
“Are you bitten?”
“No.” The woman showed them herself and the girls. “Upstairs, one apartment is empty except for the belongings the man left; he took off to his family in Dallas.”
“Good.”
The middle one is rented by a single man. The other apartment is rented by a single woman and her teenage daughter.”
The man came at them scratching, clawing, and snapping his jaws as a Red; his boxers were caked with feces and blood, and he moaned excitedly when he saw them. Evvie darted in to pound his head, and then the men did the rest, tossing him out the window.
Pouncing on Ron, the woman had him in a death grip with her teeth only inches from his face as he lay on his back, fighting. Evvie struggled to pull her off.
Patrick grabbed the dropped spear and ran at the woman, shoving it into her stomach and out her back as he pushed her back across the room. Ron was able to get to his feet and use the shovel to bash the head to a pulp. Evvie saw a blur race at her and swung hard, dropping the teen that she finished off; afterwards, Evvie vomited. These two were also tossed away.
“It took all three of us for these few. Imagine if we faced a horde of them,” Ron said.
“We’d be FUBAR for sure,” Patrick said.
“So we know we can barely take out one or two; that means the smart thing will be to avoid the son of a bitches,” Patrick added.
“Come on, one more errand, and then we start helping to take things up here,” Evvie said with a tight grin. “I have an idea, but I may be wrong.”
The man and teen followed her. She told the rest that they could take the carts and baskets to the second and third floors because other than a little blood and brain matter, they were clear.
They also introduced the owner of the shop they were looting as Juanita. The Hispanic woman was glad to have people to carry items upstairs, keep her company, and provide safety in a group. Mi casa es su casa was her motto.
Eve of Destruction led the men quietly down the sidewalk, and they back- tracked the route with a pair of carts she borrowed from the grocery store.
“Hello? Hello in there?” she called into store. No answer. Billy
and Bobby of Billy and Bobby’s Bucks and Duck cleared out most of their inventory, but left backpacks filled with needed supplies for survival: some guns and ammunition for those in need. Evvie didn’t know the men, but she could have kissed them for this gift.
They loaded the backpacks, some clothing, long guns, handguns, and ammunition into the carts.
Like idiots, Ron and Patrick grinned at each other over this find. They met a woman walking on her broken ankles with an arm chewed to the bone and dripping with yellow pus, and her face bitten. She felt no pain as she advanced toward them. Her business suit and nylons were ruined. Ron sighed and shoved his spear into her eye socket, poked around a little, and released her.
“They feel nothing, and I doubt she’d wanna be this way; this is a kindness,” Evvie stated, “I would wanna be released.”
“I hate them and fear them, so I want to kill all I can, but then, they are…were people with families and hopes and lives, and I feel sick killing them.”
“Remember Bob said the personality and the soul are gone already; those aren’t people, just the infection using their bodies to spread itself.”
“It still makes me fill sick,” Ron’s hands shook as he replied.
“Me, too,” Patrick said, “but it’s the smell; it’s gross. When I kill even one, I feel better cause I hate the things. They are like sharks…no feelings…they just kill and eat us; I really hate them.”
Evvie nodded. “A lot of emotions, but it’ll get better as we do this. That was five in the last hour that can’t hurt anyone else again. Ever. That’s what the big picture is.”
They put the carts into the service elevator and went up to the second floor to store the supplies.
“We should finish boarding the windows downstairs and then block the stairs and elevator. We have an emergency exit if we need it, but we need to keep those things out and ourselves safe from them and the radiation,” Adrian told them.
Candy munched on Cheetos as she worked. Tiara helped organize the items being brought up. It took hours, but by late night, the store was stripped, windows blocked, doors secured, stairs and elevator taken out of commission, beds made for everyone, and cold beer ready for relaxation.
A few miles away, the hospital, where many gathered to donate blood or to help, fell in so that all of the upper floors sat as rubble on the ground. Many people were saved because they were below ground level in the basement/cafeteria, and over the next few hours, workers dug victims out of the rubble and gave them first aid.
The people, with their strong dynamics, altered the course that life would take. Those military personnel guarding outside were burned and died slowly and painfully, as did many others who were caught in the blast concussion or fire.
Those on upper floors felt the floor slide and fall. Most were killed outright, but a blind woman and a security guard named Hagan made it to the cafeteria of the hospital where they found help and influenced lives around them.
Before the blind woman finally was killed by a senseless act resulting from the actions of one of the hybrids that was inoculated, she would be the greatest resource the survivors could ever have imagined.
Outside the building, burned things that were once human, beat at the doors to be let in, but the survivors shuddered and refused to open the doors, fearful of the outside. The burned and maimed, allowed in later, died screaming in pain.
At the National Guard Armory, the guardsmen were somewhat frightened by the bombing, but other than the windows rattling, the soldiers were fine. A truck came in with more supplies, the last they would get for a while.
One of the guardsmen shrieked as the passenger in the truck turned suddenly on him and bit him on his arm. He didn’t know the man was infected, but before he was put down, the man infected three more people. The outside of the building was quickly over run.
Inside, those who had the protocol reported feeling better; all four turned quietly, and without any announcement of the pending doom, they began to bite and attack those around them.
Those bitten turned immediately and went after someone else; it was chaotic, trying to see who was infected and who was fighting back, but everyone was up and pushing, hitting and yelling. Long and McKinney tried to rally the guardsmen to fire at will, but they had an attack going on both inside and outside the building.
Healthy civilians leaped out of the way towards the guardsmen, and some were gunned down, leaving the fighters open to be attacked from a different direction. Those who were not infected were still bitten as they lay dead on the floor, and within seconds, they rose to go after someone else.
Doc, Long, and McKinney had time to trade terrified glances as they realized that not only did the protocol not work, but it also made a bigger mess of their current situation.
Doc lasted a few more seconds before he was grabbed from behind. McKinney felt a bite to his hand, and without a word, he took out his side arm and fired it into his own head. Long bravely fought back as long as he could, but the bombs effectively distracted them long enough for the zombies to infect enough so there was no chance.
Long finally ran into the men’s room and leaned against the door. In mere minutes, the monsters gained a foothold and then took the place with a wave of biting and violence. He took the time to curse the medical protocol that was sent to them but obviously untested and worthless.
In retrospect, Long decided trusting his superiors was the stupidest thing he ever did, and now all these people paid the price in blood for his stupidity.
The door snapped open, but he pressed back. There was no lock.
Hearing them moaning for his flesh, he made a choice, fired into his own head, and went out on his own terms.
Within minutes, the fight was over, and like so many places, it was quickly over run and dominated by the Zeds.
On the far side of town, a plane, piloted by a survivor who had others with him, crashed into the highway where part of it burned, and a few managed to crawl away or to help others get out. If one of the infected had not been on board, he might have flown to a safe place.
These people would find an apartment building by a small lake and wait for help with an SOS sign that hung from the roof. But they would wait a full year before someone came for them, and even then, it would be an unhappy ending.
Chris, one of the men who ran away from the Rescue Station in the opposite way that Evvie, Jill, Adrian, Tiara, and the rest went, lost a few on the way: one fell into an opened cistern, cracked his head open, and broke both legs. They couldn’t get him out because of the zombies coming after them although they did take a few seconds to try.
Zombies grabbed a woman as she ran, and her neck was bitten open before anyone could fight back. She went down; they ran to keep from being attacked by the large group coming from all sides.
“Where now?” Faira asked.
“We should have gone the other way,” Marian said.
Chris motioned them down an alley that he hoped wasn’t blocked or sealed. If it were, they were all dead. As the last of them ran behind Chris, a few zombies passed the alleyway, but many poured in to follow, hungrily.
He tried several doors as he ran. They ran down a side alley and around to the front of a store where they broke out the glass, unlocked the door, and slipped inside before any caught sight of them. The noise would alert the zombies, but if they couldn’t see the humans, they would wander around unable to find them.
Lena vomited as soon as they were inside.
“Shhhh.”
“She’s exhausted.”
“It’s the smell.”
“Fear.”
People whispered about why they thought she was getting so sick. She shook her head at them angrily but continued to vomit.
Chris handed her a bottle of water. “Everyone keep quiet. Here’s water, and if you are quiet, we’ll find food and stuff.” They were in a dollar store.
“Did you all see?” Lena asked.
“See? What?”
She shivered and vomited again. “In the side alley that was blocked.”
“I glanced and saw two zooms,” Chris said, “that’s all, why?”
Lena let tears fall and didn’t wipe them away. “Did you see what they were doing? They were doing it.”
“Doing what?” Trish asked.
“It.”
“Huh?”
Lena slapped her own forehead. “It. Fucking. They were having sex.”
“With each other?”
“I would hope so.” Trish’s eyes went big, and she thought about the idea and began gagging.
“With each other,” Lena said.
Mike shrugged. “They can’t. They are brain dead. Why would they have sex? How could they?”
“They have basic instincts…to feed…and that,” Chris suggested, “That’s disgusting. No wonder Lena puked. That is so fucked up.”
They struggled to catch their breath.
Ric opened one of the doors in the back as he looked around and then fell back. Chris and Mike raised weapons, but the person in the room didn’t moan at them nor move any closer. Instead, he held up his hands and said, “Boo.”
“What the living hell?”
“It’s…it’s…a clown?”
“Everyone loves a clown.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” Ric said as he got to his feet.
“I hate clowns,” Trish said as she looked at him.
“Better yet, why are you dressed as a clown?”
“I have always worked as a clown. I wear the make-up, and mostly, the zoms never notice me even if I walk right next to them. I think they see and hear me, but I don’t look like food dressed like this.”
“Zombies don’t eat clowns? I’ll be damned,” Ric said, “we’re just stopping to rest, vomit and eat…well… some are.”
“Okie dokie,” the clown said.
“I feel better, ” Lena said. Then she stopped and gaped at the clown, “I may be sick again. What the hell is he?”
“A clown,” Ric shrugged.
“This is worse than zombie sex,” Marian said, “sorry, Lena.”
