Mountain Sickness: A Zombie Novel

by Frank Martin

  Georgia began focusing into the absolute silence when she noticed it wasn’t there. In the distance behind her she could hear the faint patter of footsteps trudging through the snow. A lot of them, in fact.

  Her first instinct was to cheer. She was finally getting saved. But then she realized it could’ve just as easily been a group of those things ready to rip her head off. A sudden burst of fear sent a shiver down the girl’s spine. Then, after accepting her fate, Georgia concluded that no matter who it was, at least she wasn’t going to die bored.

  After a full minute, the patter of feet continued to grow louder without Georgia knowing who or what was behind her. Then it suddenly stopped all at once and was soon replaced by several slams and clicks. They were distinct sounds, and Georgia had lived out West long enough to know the noise a truck’s door made when it shut.

  They were people! A couple of them. And they had a car!

  Georgia took a deep breath to scream as loud as her little lungs would allow. She then prepared to shout when the loud grumble of a diesel engine overpowered her weak cry for help. She tried again but couldn’t even hear the sound of her own voice.

  A moment later the roar of the engine gave way to the sound of snow tires eating their path through the street. She could hear the truck fade off into the distance, well on its way to wherever it was headed. And now, Georgia realized, it really was time to take a nap.

  ***

  It had only been a little over an hour since Austin Cage met Peter Hayden, and already he felt they had been on quite a journey together. Before buying a vacation home in Telluride, Austin had briefly heard about the man who ostensibly ran Mountain Village. Mr. Hayden had been described to him as friendly, accommodating and very approachable. Three qualities Austin wouldn’t relate to the barbaric display he witnessed upon walking into the Hayden’s kitchen.

  But to be fair, calling the last twelve hours of Peter’s life dire would be an understatement. If there was one thing he took out of the roles he played as an action hero, Austin knew all too well that normal men were certainly capable of extraordinary acts in times of stress. In this case, that meant a husband brutally mutilating his wife to prevent her from turning into a zombie. Austin even had to admit it was kind of romantic, in an insane, end of the world kind of way.

  Once the act was over, it took a while before Peter was ready to move again, and given what had just happened, Austin was more than happy to let him have all the time he needed. Once Peter was up and moving, though, he seemed to be back to his old self (or at least what Austin assumed to be his old self). The man went rummaging through his house for anything that could be of use in the situation they found themselves in. Flashlights. Canned food. Extra clothing. Pretty much the post-Apocalypse necessities.

  Austin helped Peter pack everything they found in a bag, but there was something disconcerting about him. It wasn’t that he was acting strange or anything. In fact, he was acting fairly normal. Too normal for a man who had just lost his wife and watched his entire town dive head first into madness. And that’s what seemed off about Peter. That it only took a few moments for him to move on past his grief and look ahead. A part of Austin actually admired the quality, but a different part of him was curious what kind of man could write off such a tragedy so quickly.

  Regardless of the answer, Austin followed Peter’s lead to head up the mountain and into the village proper. Peter had just come down that way to search for his wife, and after what he found, there wasn’t much reason for him to stick around.

  The uphill hike was both daunting and treacherous due to the amount of snow they had to overcome. Even having the physique that his Hollywood career demanded, Austin didn’t think they would have been able to make the journey if not for the path Peter carved on his way down.

  The only time the couple veered off course was when they came across a house on their way. Alternating turns, they each knocked on every front door they passed, searching for survivors. There weren’t really that many houses, though. The sprawling acres of real estate that the mansions stood on prevented them from having close neighbors. And to their surprise, the heroic duo actually managed to find several mothers, fathers, and children too scared to leave their homes on their own. Before he knew it, Austin had himself a small caravan of families under his protection. The only shame about it was that not all those families were whole.

  Unfortunately, they weren’t able to check on the houses off the main road. Neither of them (nor any of the strays they picked up along the way) had the energy to go door to door on foot to every mansion sprawled out across the mountain. They both knew there was always a chance people could’ve been alive up there. But it just wasn’t an option. Searching every house would’ve taken them hours. Time that was better spent getting to shelter back at Peter’s office.

  Looking back on what they had accomplished in such a short period of time, Austin was actually impressed. It was a far cry from being air lifted to safety. But there was definitely a feeling of achievement as the group approached Mountain Village courtyard. Even after their fearless leader gave the group a fair warning about the corpses they were sure to encounter along the way.

  With that announcement, Austin once again felt concerned about Peter’s lack of emotion. He led the whole crew, bag in hand, barely looking back to check and see if everyone was all right. Austin didn’t have to, though, seeing as how he brought up the rear. By his count, there were two other men, three women, and five children. To the famous movie star, the whole scene played out in his mind like a refugee convoy on a wintery Oregon Trail.

  Finally, Peter’s cold bedside manner got too much for Austin, and he hurried up to the front of the pack. For several steps, Austin waited for Peter to initiate some kind of conversation, but the man kept his dead stare forward, never wavering from his determined path.

  Eventually, though, Austin spoke up when the silence got too much for him. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We set up camp in my office.”

  Austin rolled his eyes after receiving the information, which he already knew. “Then what?”

  “Search the village for more survivors. Maybe head into town.”

  As a movie star, it felt weird for Austin to be the one purposefully engaging a stranger in a conversation. Usually, it was the other way around, but it was the only way he could figure out what was going on inside Peter’s head. “Ok, but then what? There has to be something more than just seeing who’s still alive?”

  Even though he didn’t look in his direction, Austin could tell Peter was slightly perturbed by the questioning. “For someone who’s dealt with a lot of fictional crises, you seem to ask a lot of questions when you’ve finally found yourself in a real one.”

  “Hey! When I bought a vacation home here I didn’t exactly read the emergency manual on zombie outbreaks.”

  Austin’s voice rose a little louder than he wanted it to, and he glanced back to see the crowd following him growing slightly nervous. The actor then turned back to continue the conversation with a much softer tone. “Look, I’m not a real hero. I’m actually pretty scared, and I don’t even have a family here like you or these people behind me. So I can’t imagine what you’re going through but…”

  Austin was doing his best to try and have a sentimental moment with Peter, but the man suddenly stopped walking out of nowhere. Following their leader, the entire group stopped with him, and Austin could hear confused chatter from the people behind him. They, just like he, were curious as to why they stopped. But when he looked at Peter all he saw was a man wrecked with emotion. He was staring ahead, locked in a puzzled trance. And for a second, Austin actually believed he had gotten through to Peter on an emotional level.

  That was until he saw the man squinting his eyes as if he was trying to see something in the distance. Austin looked in the same direction, but it wasn’t until he squinted himself that he saw what Peter had noticed.

  Past the long rows of condos stretching bef
ore them was the end of Mountain Village’s cobblestone pathway. And just beyond it was the bottom of several ski trails that funneled into the gondola station. Focusing in on that building, Austin could actually see two figures moving towards them. They looked to be approaching quickly, or as quickly as someone could while wading through a foot of snow.

  A brief series of scenarios rushed through Austin’s head. Were they more survivors? People here to help them? Or perhaps more zombies? Peter didn’t seem worried, though. In fact, he still had the same, strange expression of emotional inquisitiveness. Why did he look so weird?

  Austin turned back to further inspect the silhouettes and saw that one actually had an odd shape around his chest. Almost like he was carrying something. He, once again, quickly pondered a list of scenarios in his mind, but Peter, almost on the verge of tears, interrupted his thought process with a single word that explained his demeanor. “Ryan?”

  ***

  "Are we...are we there yet?"

  Stephanie didn't know the answer to Ryan's question. But even if she did, she wasn't sure if she would have the strength of will to tell him. It was hard enough watching his condition rapidly deteriorate on their way down the mountain. She didn't want to also be the one filling him with hope...or despair.

  From about half way between the peak and Mountain Village, Stephanie had followed Chris down the easiest route the patroller could think of. Granted, no mountainous terrain was considered safe to traverse on foot after a snowstorm. But the teenage girl was surprised at how resilient she had become. Her and Ryan both. Surely it had to be difficult for the boy. The snow was much higher on someone so low to the ground. But he did a decent job keeping up...at least in the beginning.

  First he started complaining about being thirsty. But then again, they all were. It was expected when performing rigorous physical activity at high altitudes. Especially for a little kid. But Stephanie noticed something was definitely wrong when she looked over every so often and could see the boy's face growing whiter by the second.

  Chris noticed it, too, and Ryan wasn't stupid. He could feel himself getting sick out of nowhere. And as an avid zombie enthusiast, he knew all too well what was happening. They all did. Which was why Chris eventually scooped up Ryan into his arms and took off down the mountain.

  Stephanie did her best to keep up in her clunky ski boots, but it wasn't until they reached the gondola base that she got close enough to see Ryan visibly shaking in Chris's arms. The boy was pale white with a thick layer of mucus bubbling under his runny nose. The patroller was squeezing the baggy jacket around him like a blanket. By the way Ryan's eyes kept fluttering closed, though, his chills got to the point where no amount of body heat could warm him.

  With Ryan secured tightly in his arms, Chris began trudging through the snow towards Mountain Village's courtyard. The boy must’ve felt them pick up the pace because that's when he asked his question, which Stephanie refused to answer.

  But with the ski patroller inside him cranked to full gear, Chris couldn't resist trying to comfort the terrified child. "Soon, Ryan. Soon."

  "I'm...scared." It was only two words, but his trembling lips made it hard for the little one to speak.

  Chris, on the other hand, spoke strong and with conviction, fueled by a need to save those in his care. "Don't worry. There's gotta be something that can stop this. Fluids. Sedatives. You're not going to turn into one of those things. I promise."

  "Don't...promise. I don't want you...to break it."

  After finally reaching the village's cobblestone walkway, Stephanie and Chris stuttered at the bloody sight of sporadic bodies sprawled out before them. It was only a moment, though, before Chris continued their trek to the ski patrol outpost on the other side of the courtyard. "That's not an option. I promised Sarah I would take you home and..."

  "I said don't promise!"

  The boy's voice suddenly snapped out of its weak cocoon and became a booming force of rage. So much so that Chris had stopped moving in the center of the courtyard. He looked shocked and surprised. Who wouldn't be? But Stephanie wasn’t.

  She recognized the boy's sudden spike in anger and knew all too well what was coming next. "He's getting angry. Get rid of him."

  "Yeah! Just get rid of me! We all know you want to."

  But Chris held onto him, tighter than he had before. "No. This can't be happening."

  Caught between wanting to help and procuring her own safety, Stephanie froze with inaction. "It's too late. He's a time bomb. Just..."

  "Ryan!"

  To her surprise, Stephanie looked up to see a man running towards them. He was already so close and looked frantic with his eyes locked firmly onto the boy. Chris didn't know how to react and remained still as the man reached for him.

  But Stephanie quickly yelled out when she foresaw the terror about to unfold. "Wait!'

  All at once, Ryan suddenly burst out from within Chris's arms. His legs pushed hard off the patroller's chest as he lunged at the surprised man, who stopped dead in his tracks. The baggy jacket, ripped right off the boy's body, was still held firm in the clutches of Chris's hands. He, too, was shocked and stood speechless as Ryan ferociously latched onto the man's face.

  Together they fell backwards onto the hard courtyard ground and the man began horrifically screaming as Ryan scratched, clawed and bit like a rabid animal. The shrieks of pain immediately snapped Stephanie and Chris into action, but that still wasn't quick enough to stop the boy's attacks.

  They both grabbed onto Ryan's flailing arms to pull him back. As he was lifted into the air, his legs kicked and squirmed until his body was free from their hold. He dropped hard at their feet where Chris and Stephanie once again tried to smother him down. But the boy nimbly squirmed away and tried to flee deeper into Mountain Village.

  Despite a ravenous energy fueling him forward, he only got several steps into the surrounding area before more survivors, presumably from the man's group, managed to cut him off.

  Discouraged by the outnumbered fight ahead of him, Ryan actually stopped and took a look around, sizing up his situation with intense, devilish eyes. Chris and Stephanie circled around him to cover the boy from every direction. She was even surprised to see the injured man on the ground slowly get up and do the same.

  His face was torn and bleeding but there was an undeniable anguish in his eyes as he approached his attacker. He soon stopped and stared at the boy with a look of devastating loss. A look Stephanie could relate to. A look she understood. That's when she knew the deranged, bloodthirsty boy she had actually grown fond of was the man's son. And she refused to prolong the death of another family any longer.

  Ryan still stood in the same position, gnashing his teeth at the people around him. He was trapped but still a wild, dangerous beast. He could sense the fear in the men, women, and children before him. He felt their bodies tremble at his crazed appearance.

  But was caught off guard by a voice from behind. "Hey, Ryan."

  The small boy turned around and was suddenly struck in the mouth by a bare fist that dropped him to the pavement. Stephanie immediately saw the boy's eyes flutter shut from the knockout punch she delivered and stood over his unconscious body for another moment just to be sure.

  The whole standoff ended as quickly as it developed, and Stephanie was a bit taken aback by both the how and why of what happened. She didn't expect to be able to sneak up on the boy without him noticing, let alone deliver a punch (the first one in her entire life) that would knock him out cold. Then again, she did hit a little boy, so she told herself it wasn't that impressive.

  As far as the why, Stephanie also had no answer. Her body moved on autopilot from the moment she stepped forward to when Ryan lay flat on the walkway with a bloody nose. It wasn't until she looked up and caught a glimpse of the man's battered face that she was reminded of the pain she experienced only hours earlier. Reminded of what she felt seeing her own father and brother, a boy not much older than Ryan, becoming those things
. Terrorized by crippling emotion, she was unable to act then, like he was unable to act now. And the teenage girl realized why she did what she had. Because she knew someone had to ease his pain. Why shouldn’t it have been her?

  But the sentiment was soon lost when Stephanie's eyes drifted from the man and quickly recognized one of the strangers gathered speechless around her. "Hey! Aren't you Austin Cage?"

  17

  The Sheridans owned one hell of a truck. That was the only thought going through Marshal Walker’s mind as Nellie gripped the wheel with a fierce determination. He was concerned that the thick layer of snow covering the town’s unplowed roads would’ve been a problem. But like the expert driver she was, Mrs. Sheridan alternately shifted gears and toyed with the gas just enough so that the Ford’s four-wheel drive ate up the snow without overheating.

  It was a skill Travis was admittedly shocked that she had. He assumed Billy would’ve been the one to jump behind the wheel, but after leaving the Town Hall, Nellie never stopped for a moment to let anyone other than herself into the driver’s seat. Knowing better than to challenge his wife, Billy instinctively headed for the passenger side door.

  Now that their journey to the plane’s crash site was well underway, Travis sat comfortably in the Super Duty’s roomy back seat in between Molly and Hunter on his left and right respectively. As he took a quick glance at his two companions, both of whom focused intently out their windows, the marshal experienced a quick flashback to when he recruited them for his little posse.

  The chaos of the storm created such a panic that he was looking for anyone with a familiar face that could hold a gun. Despite his age, Hunter was an obvious choice to help. But Travis was surprised when Molly stepped forward and volunteered. He would’ve expected the schoolteacher to be at home, riding out the horror with her husband and kids. That’s when he learned that there was no longer anyone alive for her to be home with. And then, with that grim clarity staring him in the face, her decision made sense.