by Brian Parker
“What? That's crazy! She was in twenty-five pieces.”
“I thought the same thing until I saw his hand. Something sure as hell bit him. Come on, we need to see that woman.”
Patrick stood rooted in place for a moment trying to decide if he wanted to go on another one of Bailey's wild goose chases that she was infamous for. Eventually he sighed and jogged after her. They came up to the ambulance that had been designated to take bodies to the hospital morgue. “Hey, I need to see the bag that the police put in here. The initial victim,” she ordered.
The ambulance driver looked over at her with a bored expression. “Yeah, that one's pushed up against the seat to make more room for some of the others. Didn't need a lot of space for what they found of her.”
Bailey dug her fingernails into her palm to keep from screaming at him. “Can you please bring her down? We have to verify something.”
“Sure, hold on.” The driver made an annotation on his chart and then pulled the bag down. It flopped unceremoniously to the pavement. “Aww shit. Sorry lady,” he apologized to the dismembered corpse.
Bailey knelt down and grasped the zipper. Patrick tapped her on the shoulder and she turned to see that he offered her a Gerber multi-tool with a plier attachment. “Better safe than sorry,” he stated.
She nodded and accepted the tool. A quick flip of her wrist extended the pliers and she used those to grasp the zipper pull. When the bag was open, a mass of blonde hair fell out. The hair had globs of some type of thick black substance stuck to it. “What the hell is all that?”
“Don't know. Never seen anything like it,” Patrick answered.
She used the pliers to grab a thick wad of hair and lifted the head from the bag. It spun slowly, suspended in the air until the girl's face came into view. Her milky white eyes were wide open and Bailey noticed that she must have been blind.
And then her mouth opened and snapped down hard onto empty air.
“Holy fuck!” Bailey shouted and dropped the pliers. The head bounced onto the ground and rolled to a stop facing skyward.
The two paramedics crept cautiously towards it and the thing's eyes rotated towards them while the mouth continued to open and shut. “Do you see that?” Bailey asked.
“Yeah, but I don't believe it. What the hell is it?”
She pointed towards the head and replied, “That's why we were on alert to go assist in Belton and then never got the call. The news must be right; those things have taken over the town. It was too dangerous to send us in there.”
“Wait a minute,” Patrick said. “How fast does this thing spread?”
“No idea, man. This is the first that I've seen of it.”
Patrick pulled out his radio and tried to reach the ambulance that had taken the wounded police officer. He didn't have any luck, so he tried to get the dispatch to contact them. Dispatch was unsuccessful as well.
Seven miles away, the ambulance rested against the side of a small Mexican restaurant. The bodies of the driver and EMT had smashed through the windshield after the officer attacked both of them. He clambered out of the window and bit deeply into the pretty young hostess who stood outside talking to 9–1–1 on her cell phone.
The patrons scattered and ran over each other in their efforts to get away, but it was already too late for Austin. The sickness had spread to a new city.
The Shield, 7:09 a.m.
“Please, everyone, just calm down!” the police officer's voice echoed through the grocery store intercom. “You'll get your food – Hey!” The officer dropped the microphone and darted after a kid who tried to run past the registers with a cart full of canned goods.
He caught up to him easily enough and grabbed him by the shirt collar. “Hey, what do you think you're doing?”
The kid stopped and stared in shock at the giant man. He'd always been intimidating. Patrolman Gary Andrews stood six-foot-four and weighed in at a solid two-eighty on most days. Back in the day, he played middle linebacker for Texas Christian the three years that they went to number seven, then six and finally all the way to number two in the AP Poll. As a linebacker, he'd been both massive and fast, which translated over well to the Waco Police Department.
He'd been passed over by the NFL scouts and spent a couple of years trying to get picked up after being abused on the practice squad for the Dallas Cowboys, but ultimately everyone passed on him because he was too narrow in the hips. Some bullshit factor that made his stock less valuable, regardless of how good he was. It was like all those pundits who said Drew Brees was too short for the NFL, look at what he'd done.
So, he finally agreed to pack up his pads and helmet and became a cop. He only planned on doing it for a few years, but that stretched into fifteen and he loved what he did. Sure, he hated being the asshole who wrote tickets for minor infractions, but he liked helping people in need and always dropped whatever he was doing if there was even the hint of a foot chase. He lived for the thrill of seeing a criminal freak out at the sight of a fast, giant police officer bearing down on them.
“I… Uh… The line was way too long!” the kid pleaded. “People were taking things out of my basket while I stood there!”
Gary released his grip on the skinny white kid's shirt. “Get back inside and pay for your stuff. I'll let it slide this time – and I'll keep an eye out for people trying to take your groceries, okay?”
“Uh, okay. I'm not gonna get arrested?”
“Not today, kid,” Gary answered. Under his breath he muttered, “Given what's coming this way, it would probably be a death sentence.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Seriously, just go inside and pay for your stuff. The mayor's mandatory barricade order starts at noon. You guys need to get your food and get home.”
“Okay… Okay, I'll get back in line. Thank you!”
He watched the kid go back inside and then turned to look towards the south. All the Waco police officers had been called in to work and sent to various locations across the city to help maintain public safety. Interestingly, the chief had termed it as “public safety”, not upholding the law. Minor things like traffic violations and such were out the window. Waco was in full-on crisis preparedness mode.
He gazed southward towards the small town of Belton about forty-five miles away. They'd all been shown videos and news helicopter footage of the chaos that reigned in Belton, Temple and Killeen. There'd also been reports that the creatures had made it as far south as Round Rock, which was about the same distance from Belton as Waco.
The National Guard barricade had failed miserably and the troops at Fort Hood were under siege, unable to break out of the very fences that kept the creatures at bay. Everyone fully expected the creatures to arrive in Waco sometime today so the mayor had instituted an order directing everyone to barricade themselves inside their homes by noon, which allowed citizens to make a run for the grocery store before the lockdown. Anyone seen outside after that would be considered infected and be dealt with.
It was confirmed through the military that head shots were the only effective method of dispatching the creatures. Gary was thankful that there was some way to kill them, but he'd have to let something get pretty damn close to him to kill it with his 9mm. He was an excellent shot anywhere under forty feet, but beyond that and it started getting dicey – and he missed everything greater than one hundred feet. He also had the shotgun, which would be devastating at the same distance that he could effectively fire his pistol. But anything greater than thirty feet and he was just wasting ammo.
His mind drifted to Carrie and the kids, Michael and Janine. He was worried about them, but they'd made their grocery run last night before official word came out, so they were already locked away in the house. Gary knew that he needed to be out on the street defending his town, but if things got really bad, he planned to go to his house and hole up with his family. He'd sheepishly mentioned it to Alberts this morning and the patrolman said he had the same idea. There was an unof
ficial tipping point where if things got too bad, he'd go home and protect them.
It made Gary feel better knowing that he wasn't the only one with thoughts of abandoninghis post. But really, what could the department expect of its officers? The men and women of the force would do everything that they could for Waco until the safety of their families was jeopardized.
A call over the radio handset on his shoulder made him focus on the here and now. Everyone had been explicitly instructed to stay off the radio unless it was an emergency. “Go ahead, Adam Two-Four,” the dispatcher said.
He'd missed the initial message, but Adam Two-Four was Sergeant Garafallo. Gary tried hard to remember where Garafallohad been posted. Oh yeah, that big truck gas station over by New Road on the far southern edge of town. Something bad must be going down at the station. That place was almost a madhouse on a normal day, he didn't envy the sergeant.
“I… I just shot one!” Sergeant Garafallo's voice quavered over the radio.
“Say again, Adam Two-Four?” the dispatcher asked.
“I just shot one of those fuckers. It wandered out of the creek bed and attacked a woman. Head shots do put them down. I repeat, head shots work!”
A gruff voice came over the line, “Adam Two-Four, are you certain that it was one of the zombie creatures?” The chief was personally on the radio, never a good sign.
“Yes, sir. I'm positive. It bit a woman in the arm.”
“Shit, where's that woman now?” the police chief asked.
“She got in her car and took off. White Jetta, northbound. Didn't get the plates because I had to deal with the zombie.”
There was a pause in the chief's response. When he came back, he sounded even older than he already had. “All units, this is Chief Jimenez. Shut 'er down. I say again, lock the city down!”
Gary stopped listening to the radio and went inside. He grabbed the microphone and said, “Alright people, the zombies have been spotted in Waco. You are ordered to leave the store immediately and go to your homes! The mayor's mandatory barricade order is now in effect. I repeat –”
He didn't finish his announcement as someone knocked him away from the counter with a shopping cart. People rushed out the open doors with whatever they had in their baskets. All semblance of order, courtesy or common sense went out the window as people began to fight over products in earnest.
The officer felt woozy and put a hand to the side of his head. A warm liquid ran between his fingers. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. He'd hit his head on the counter when the shopper bowled him over with the cart. He leaned drunkenly against the counter and pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket to staunch the flow of blood. The white linen was quickly covered in dark red.
“What the hell?” He looked around the counter and then saw what had caused the injury. Along the floor there was a bumper to keep the grocery carts from getting too close to the counter. The rounded metal cap had come loose and now stuck out like the teeth of a steel trap. A large hunk of skin and some of his hair sat wedged in-between the sharp cap and the bumper.
“Crap. Guess there goes the family photo this year,” he chuckled to himself. From deep in his subconscious, his defensive back coach's voice yelled at him, Snap out of it, Andrews! It's just a little cut; you've gotta get back in the game!
Coach was right. He had to step up and take charge around here or else more people were going to get hurt. He pushed away from the counter and picked up the microphone. “Stop it! All of you stop, that's an order. You are to leave the store now!” his voice reverberated across the insane asylum that the grocery store had become.
No one listened. The fighting continued unabated and customers still ran out of the store with their foodstuffs without paying for them. He glanced over at the registers, all the employees had abandoned their stationsand were either fighting for supplies themselves or they'd fled the building.
Less than ten feet away from him, he saw a woman punch an old man in the stomach and grab the basket that he'd been pushing. It was actual chaos like he never thought he'd see in the relatively small town of Waco.
“Aw hell,” he mumbled and pressed his index finger against the release mechanism on his holster. The 9mm slid free and he flipped the safety switch over to fire. The tiny red dot stared at him angrily and for half a second it appeared pink in his mind. Pink as in pink slip. Once he did this, he'd be fired for sure.
There was no other way that he could see to get things under control. “Fuck it.” He aimed the gun at the ceiling and fired three rounds. The crowd stopped fighting and those in the aisles stopped loading their carts. Everyone stared in the direction of the crazy police officer who'd just shot a gun in the grocery store.
“Get out of the store and go home!” Officer Andrews bellowed.
For half a second, no one moved and then suddenly people began to run. Carts full of food tipped over and people trampled those who were slower or had slipped on the tile floor. Gary immediately regretted his decision. This was actually worse than people fighting over products, but it worked. Except for the injured, the place cleared out in less than a minute.
What the hell am I supposed to do with all these injured people? he asked himself. Movement to his left, people coming in the store diverted his attention towards the doors. He stared right down the barrel of two automatic weapons.
“Drop the gun, cop!” a third man said as he stepped between the guns.
“You don't want to do this,” Gary replied.
“This grocery store is ours now, vato. You have three seconds to drop your gun and get out or you're a dead man.”
He placed his pistol on the counter beside him and raised his hands. “There are injured people here. They need help. Let me take them out of here.”
The leader of the small gang stepped forward. “Why, so you can go tell your pig friends to come back here? I don't think so. You ain't kicking us out of here. This is where we're gonna ride out the apocalypse.”
“I'm gonna go home to my family, not the police department. Frankly, I don't care where you guys go when the zombies come. Let me help these people to their cars.”
He seemed to consider Gary's words and then said, “Okay. You can get them out of here. Hurry up!”
There were four people staring wide-eyed at the Mexican gang who'd claimed the grocery store for their own. Gary went over to a young woman near the exit who was cradling her arm and started to help her up.
“Not her! She stays.”
Gary pulled his hands from under her armpits and she clutched at him with her one good hand. “Please, get me out of here!” she screamed. “I have children at home… Please.”
He considered her for a moment and whispered, “I'll get you out last. Be ready to run.”
She nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her good hand. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
The officer helped the other three people out of the building and turned to come back inside. “Hey, that's it, man. You get the fuck out of here or else you're brains are gonna decorate the walls,” the gang leader said.
Gary walked past him to the girl and helped her to her feet. “Hey, big man! I said she stays. We gotta have some entertainment to help pass the time!”
The three men chuckled and slapped each other on the back. Without warning, Gary turned and spread his arms wide, running full speed. He tackled all three at once and kept going until they crunched against the cigarette counter.
“Go!” he shouted, unable to tell if the woman was still even in the store. He still had his massive arms wrapped around the gang and began to squeeze. The sound of sneakers squeaking on the tile behind him told the police officer that she'd recovered and made a break for it.
A rifle dropped at his feet and he kicked it away. Then a sharp pain exploded in his abdomen, just below his bulletproof vest. One of the fuckers had stabbed him.
The pain intensified as the leader of the gang pulled the blade out and then jammed it home on t
he opposite side. Gary's strength left him and the three men shoved him off. “You had to be the hero, huh Mr. Cop-man? Look what it got you!” The three of them began to kick him in the ribs and head.
“Shit! That pendejo's bleedin' all over my floor. Take him outside!” the leader shouted.
They struggled to carry his bulk out of the store, but they finally managed it and deposited him unceremoniously in the street.
“Go get your gun, Hector. We're gonna kill this fool right here as a warning to stay away from our turf.”
Gary heard one of the men run back into the store. “Please… I have a family,” he managed to say through swollen, cracked lips.
“You think I give a shit, vato? You had your chance. All you had to do was leave that fine piece of trim for us and you'd still be alive. Not anymore, pichula.”
Gary rolled over onto his back. He wanted those fuckers to see his face, so he could haunt them forever.
Tires squealed and the gangbangers shouted something unintelligible. Then there was a loud crash as a vehicle impacted against the barriers meant to keep cars from accidentally running into the store. The Mexican gang was crushed against the concrete.
The woman with the injured arm swam into Gary’s vision. “Come on! I know two of them are history, I don't know about the third. We've gotta take your car, mine's toast.”
Gary winced in incredible pain as he rolled over and pushed himself to his knees. Once more, Coach's voice yelled at him, Get up you pansy! It's just a minor wound, and this is the fourth quarter! You've gotta go protect your family.
He reached down deep inside his reserves and pushed up off the ground. The woman placed a shoulder under his arm and helped him to his police cruiser. She shoved him roughly into the passenger seat and ran around to the driver's side.
By the time she was seated, Gary had fished the keys off his belt and handed them over to her. She gunned the engine and tore out of the parking lot. “Holy shit, this has a lot of power!”
“Yeah, be careful. I saw what you did to your last car,” he grunted.
