Origins of the Outbreak
Page 11
Armed with a weapon and secure in his belief that the area was still safe, he called out, “Sarah! Sarah, its Darren. Where are you?”
She didn't answer so he made his way around the island to get out of the kitchen and started towards the bedroom. He didn't really know what to do with the knife, but he'd seen enough movies to know that he should hold it low. Darren crept slowly towards their bedroom and had a vision of accidentally stabbing Sarah with the blade, so he changed the angle and pressed it against the pants of his suit to help control it.
He stopped just short of entering the bedroom. The doors were closed and there were noises coming from inside. It sounded like someone breathing heavily and fabric moving against skin. He became incensed. The noises coming from his bedroom weredefinitely the noise of someone having sex. The heavy breathing, the soft moans, the rubbing of his wife's skin against the sheets as some dude piled into her. That bitch was cheating on him!
He shoved hard against the door. “What the hell is going on?” he shouted. Whatever his mind had prepared him for was nothing like what he found. The nightstand lay overturned and the lamp shattered. Blood was splattered across the walls in a large fan pattern originating from the bed. Besides the form of his wife writhing against the sheets, the room was empty. No man was in here, she was alone and in trouble.
He dropped the knife and ran towards the bed. He jerked to an abrupt halt on the carpet when he saw his once-lovely bride. Great patches of skin were missing on her face, her neck, her shirt was ripped open, exposing her breasts and a massive hole gaped wide where her intestines used to reside in her abdominal cavity.
Darren couldn't help himself; he turned to the side and vomited on the floor. When he was finished, he turned back to Sarah once again. Her upper body moved wildly and she lifted her head to snap her teeth at him, but her entire lower half wasn't moving. He stepped closer and saw pieces of white bone amongst the blood and discarded intestines. Whatever did this to her had ripped her spinal column and severed the cord, leaving her lower half useless.
He cried for a few minutes. He'd been on top of the world, expecting to come home to Sarah and work things out with her and now… He was alone. Utterly alone in the chaos. When he finally stopped crying he walked slowly over to where he'd dropped the knife and picked it up. If these things followed the same pattern as the zombies in the movies, destroying their brains would put an end to them.
Sarah – not Sarah!–continued to struggle to move towards him so she could attack him and do the same thing to him that had happened to her. “I'm sorry, honey. I love you. I'll always love you,” he told the thing staring at him and plunged the knife into her eye. She continued to spasm for a moment, but eventually settled and stopped moving.
Darren stared around their bedroom for a moment and then rushed to get a suitcase. He'd done what needed to be done. His wife was in a better place now. Within minutes he had two suitcases crammed with clothing and he carried them to the door. He opened it and peered out cautiously. Everything seemed to be okay, so he hurried out and put the bags in the trunk of his sedan.
“I'll need food,” he mumbled, still in shock of what he'd been through and what he had to do to Sarah. He jogged towards the house and closed the door carefully behind himself.
He packed canned food, boxed goods and bottled water into a few grocery bags and looked around the living room to see if there was anything that he wanted. On the fireplace mantle, a happy Sarah and Darren stared at him from their wedding picture. He grabbed that and then looped his fingers through the bags of food.
In his haste, he didn't check the door before opening it. Standing right in the doorway was that big mother fucker from next door. Only it wasn't him anymore. He lunged for Darren, who deftly moved backwards out of the way. He stumbled backwards to get out of the reach of the giant creature in front of him and tripped over the fucking coat rack. Cans of food flew up into the air and fell heavily against the floor.
Seeing his victim fall was all the advantage that Mateo needed. Once he got his hands on Darren's leg, there was no getting away from the large zombie.
The Coffee Drinker, 7:23 p.m.
Levantre was tired. All day long he’d slaved away at the office and then had to go to the grocery store after work. The problems over in Belton were all that anyone talked about and his mama called him from Houston to remind him that he needed to get groceries so he could stay home for the next few days. So, he’d schlepped his way over to the store and fought with so many people that he was simply exhausted.
He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror and was shocked to see a wrinkle in his forehead. “Aeeii!” he screamed and let go of the steering wheel. The car careened across the double yellow lines into oncoming traffic.
He grabbed the wheel and jerked back into his lane. He took a deep breath and whined, “Oh my God!” He risked another quick glance in the mirror and that hideous blemish glared at him. “Oh, it’s all the government’s fault,” he told himself. “They let something nasty out of the lab and now I have… I can’t even say it!”
Levantre had talked to himself for years, so he no longer thought of it as weird. Some of his boyfriends had taken a while to adjust to it, but he knew what to do to keep them around. He was very good in bed and knew exactly how to please his man, so they weren’t going anywhere just because of a few quirks. Usually he was the one to end the relationship with the men because they became stale and boring.
“I need a latte,” he sighed. “Oh wait. I… I can’t go in public like this! What am I supposed to do?” Then he remembered his emergency compact in the glove box. He’d placed it there for days when he got a pimple. It was a rare occasion, but even the very sexy Levantre Dixon got a zit now and again.
His day started like every other day, but by noon the radio that they played at the bank’s teller counter where he worked began to report these totally outlandish things about people in the next town attacking one another. Crazy, horrible things that all the employees thought were some sort of weird War of the Worlds-type joke.
Then the television began to show footage of a news crew being attacked. Jevon, the manager – and one of the many married men that Levantrehad been able to encourage homosexual experimentation with – closed down the bank early and everyone stood around watching the television in horror. News helicopters circled the small town of Belton and eventually Jevon sent everyone home, telling them that the owners had decided to close the bank for a few days, so everyone was being offered the rest of that day's pay and the Saturday off in exchange for a lawsuit if someone got hurt coming to work.
Levantre finally remembered to call his mama, who scolded him for a solid ten minutes and then made him go to the grocery store. That was a disaster. There were people everywhere. Folks grabbing each other and shoving. He’d struggled just to add a few items to his buggy. The stress from that experience was clearly why he had that disfiguring mark, but his compact would help him cover it up, then he’d put on a skin revitalization mask tonight and pamper himself over the next few days.
He’d already decided that he wasn’t going to leave his apartment after he made it home; what he’d seen on the news convinced him that the best place for him was locked away with a stash of food. Of course, he may have to invite Leon or maybe even Robbie to help him pass the time. He’d have to think about which one he could stand to be around for three or four days straight while he drank his coffee.
He pulled slowly into the strip mall where the Starbucks that he liked was located. He sat in his car for a moment and liberally applied the concealer to his forehead making sure it was blended evenly. “There. All better, sweetie,” he told his reflection and then blew a kiss to himself in the mirror. Levantre grew up on the mean streets of Houston and he was a gay man living in a military town, so he was already conditioned to check his surroundings before he got out of his little Jetta. He checked over both shoulders and then in the rearview to ensure that he was alone.
“Hey, Levantre!” Michael said when he walked in.
“Hi, Michael!” he replied as he made his way to the counter. Besides Michael and another employee named Amy, he was the only one in the store. “Oh my goodness, I'm so thankful that y'all are open! I don't know what I'd have done if you weren't.”
“Yeah, we're open,” the barista huffed. “I called corporate and asked if we could close 'er down for the night but that got shot down. Even worse, my opener for tomorrow morning quit. She said if I was gonna force her to come to work during the apocalypse, then she would just get a job at Target. Can you believe that?”
“That is pretty silly, Michael. The apocalypse, whatever. You know what I think this is?”
“Oh yeah, please give us your inside information,” Amy said without looking up from scrubbing the espresso machine.
“Pffst, girl you don't even know,” he said with an upraised hand at the offensive employee. He'd never liked her because of her crappy attitude. “I think it's one of those disaster preparedness exercises that the government does. You know, to help people see just how unprepared they are for a natural disaster.”
“Hmm, hadn't thought of it that way,” the manager acknowledged.
“Really?” Amy cut in. “Do you really think they'd risk the widespread panic everywhere? I bet there was a mad rush on the grocery and liquor stores and people got hurt. There's no way that this is an exercise.”
“What do you know about things, missy?” Levantre asked.
“My boyfriend is in the Army and they all got ordered to stay on post. He wrote me and said that they were even drawing their weapons.”
“Well, I ain't no artist, but I know that doodling on a page isn't gonna help anything!”
Amy sighed in exasperation. “It means that they're getting issued their guns so they can go fight.”
Levantre's dark skin paled several shades. “Oh, like an exercise or something? Tony used to talk about going on exercises.”
“No, like the real deal. They were given real bullets, not the fake ones.”
Levantreconsidered what she'd said for a moment and then looked over at Michael and said, “Yeah, I'm gonna take mine to go.”
The manager chuckled nervously and replied, “Sure thing. The usual?”
“Oh no, hun. I just had a horrible time at the grocery store,” he glanced pointedly at Amy, who stared back at him with those dull, lifeless eyes underneath a pair of eyebrows that desperately needed to be visited by an esthetician or two. “I need a triple shot of espresso tonight.”
“Of course, anything else, Levantre?”
He handed over his gold Starbucks cars and said, “No. That will be all, Michael. Thank you.”
He thought of the stomach issues that he had last night and said, “Oh wait. Can you make sure she uses skim milk? I think she made it with whole milk yesterday and I was bloated all evening long.” He rubbed his tummy to indicate where the problem had been.
“Must have been something else that you ate. I always use skim milk in your drinks,” Amy stated.
“Mmm hmm. I'm sure.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Robbie's number. In her own annoying way, Amy had helped him make the decision about which lover to invite over for a few days' stay. Leon was too needy and his sarcasm might get on Levantre's nerves after a while. He didn't want this little event to ruin the good thing he had going with Leon, which was mind-numbing sex and then parting ways in the morning.
Robbie's phone rang repeatedly until his voicemail picked up. “Hey baby, it's Levantre. Call me!”
What did that mean? Robbie always answered his calls. “Is that bitch cheating on me?” he gasped.
“What?” Amy asked as she poured the milk into the coffee cup.
“Oh nothing,” he replied and frantically dialed Leon's phone. Suddenly, the thought of being stranded all alone during this crisis became very frightening to him.
Leon picked up after two rings. “Hey, Levantre. You never call this early,” he said as a way of hello.
“Hey, you sexy thang! I – oh, hold on.” He took the latte that Amy sat on the counter. “Thank you. Bye Michael, be safe.”
“Same to you, man,” the manager replied with a wave.
Into the phone he said, “Sorry, I'm at Starbucks and my latte was ready. So, how have you been?”
“I'm really good. I just started seeing someone.”
“Oh… I'm sorry to hear that. I mean, that's great news for you, Leon. Congratulations. I was just hoping that maybe you wanted to come over for the night, maybe even stay the weekend.”
“Levantre Dixon, you have horrible timing! If you'd have asked me two weeks ago, then I'd have jumped at the chance to spend the weekend with you. But I can't. I just started seeing this really great guy that I met at the cafe on Third Street.”
Levantre unlocked his car and slid down into the seat. “Oh, I love that place! I didn't know that you knew about it.”
“You're the one that told me about it, lover. Remember? Never mind. Look, Robbie's coming over in a few, so I need to run and finish getting ready. We should have coffee together one day after work like adults instead of just meeting up to fuck.”
His heart dropped in his chest. “Wait, did you say Robbie? As in Robbie Larsen?”
There was a pause and then Leon answered, “Yeah, how'd you know?”
“That cunt. I've been seeing Robbie for over a year.”
“Like dating or just hooking up with him?” Leon asked in alarm.
There was a clear distinction between the two and Levantre didn't want to ruin his relationship with either of the men. He knew that they'd break up soon enough, they were just too different from one another, then they'd both come crawling back to him on their knees – literally. “It was nothing serious, just casual. You know me, Leon. I avoid relationships because they never work out anyways.”
“Oh, okay… Hey, I'm serious about the coffee. You're a good friend. I gotta go!”
“Alright, we'll schedule something. Bye.” He hung up the phone and stared darkly through the glass windows into the Starbucks where Michael and Amy talked as they cleaned.
“What does he mean 'good friend'?” He muttered while he started the car. “We barely ever talked about anything except sex!”
Levantre shifted the car into gear and pulled out into the street. “What am I gonna do now? I don't wanna be alone for the entire weekend.” He briefly considered going to the club, but the groceries in the car meant that he couldn't do that without everything getting spoiled. Finally, he resigned himself to call Hector.
They'd been in a serious relationship for almost two years before his Latin lover proposed marriage to make it official. Levantre had fled the relationship and hadn't talked to him in forever. They saw each other in the bars and clubs around town, but they hadn't really talked.
He sighed and dialed the number. “Um, hello Levantre,” Hector said when he answered the phone.
“Hi, Hector. How have you been?”
“I've been good, my friend. The salon is booming – I just made a bid two days ago on the space next door. We plan on knocking out the wall and expanding the shop. How is the bank?”
“Everything is going good… Well, almost everything. I… I miss you, Hector.”
“I miss you too, Levantre. We were so good together.”
He smiled as he exited off the expressway onto his street. “We were, weren't we? This whole day has got me thinking about things and my priorities. Are you doing anything tonight? I can cook you dinner at my place. I'd love to talk to
you.”
“It's Friday night. Have you ever known me to not have plans on a Friday night?”
Levantre grimaced. “Yeah, you're right. I should have known –”
“But I will cancel those plans for you, Levantre. I'd love to have dinner with you. Do you still live over in Skipcha?”
“Yeah, same apartment and everything. Can you be there in an hour?”
“Yes, I can make that. I'll bring a bottle of Malbec.”
“Mmm, my favorite!”
“I know. Will you leave the gate open for me?”
“Of course. I can't wait to see you!”
“Ditto, my friend. Okay, I'll see you soon.”
“Bye,” he replied and hung up the phone just as he pulled up to the apartment complex gate. He typed the code to open the gate and then another code that would leave the gate open for two hours. It was a feature that the complex had on their gates to allow residents to have guests over without the need to give out the code for the gate. It had come in very handy for Levantre over the years.
He pulled his car over the small metal track that the gate ran along and the tires made their usual bumping sound as they went over it. Because of the noise, he didn't notice the bloody hand that reached from the bushes and slapped against the side of his car.
Levantre's apartment building was one quick turn away from the entrance. He liked living closer to the front of the complex because it seemed quieter up here as opposed to deeper in where the people with kids lived because it was farther from the road. He pulled into his spot and popped the trunk.
The first load was a small one as he carried his latte and the bag with the meat in it to his front door so he would still have a free hand to unlock it. Once inside, he set the drink down and lit a candle – Sea Breeze. It wouldn't do for Hector to come over to a smelly apartment.