Terminus_The End of The World As We Know It

by Lee Ragans

  “Well, the signs did say, no drugs. And we came anyway.”

  A few moments later the father and brother helped hold the patient down as the Corporal poured water over the infection, and then he sliced quickly across the infection opening it up and dropping the puss out in one push into the bucket on the floor. The teenager screamed through his teeth as he bit down. Pouring water and scrubbing the inside of the infected area the pain subsided. After 20 minutes the procedure was complete, and the open wound was packed with gauze.

  “We need to clean it again in the morning. You three can stay here tonight. It will take a few days to know if it is getting better.”

  It took 2 weeks but the infection healed, and the trio was able to set out back to their safe spot. Patients came slowly. Most could not be helped. Those that could be helped were. Babies were born, and the infected were put to rest with mercy.

  Three weeks later the students observed the squad formed as a whole for the last time in what was once the parking area between the two main apartment buildings. The fireteams formed in two rows lead by the corporals, and they stood at attention. Sergeant Marshal stood at attention and called out, “Private Lawson, front and center!”

  The Private stepped out of formation by staking one smart step back and then marched smartly around the squad to stop and face the Sergeant with a salute. Returning the salute, the Sergeant started speaking, “Attention to orders! Private James Lawson, having completed his term of enlistment is mustering out tonight at midnight. He will be issued one weapon a standard load of ammo and two weeks of rations. We honor Private Lawson for completing his term of service and thank him from the bottom of our hearts. I wish him the best and hope that he finds at home what he is looking for.” The Sergeant waited a full 20 seconds and then said, “Dismissed.”

  The students watched, without understanding the significance of what they witnessed. As they gathered on their floor some muttered, “what was that about?” and asked, “Why the big deal?”

  Buddy controlled his temper as he spoke loudly just short of yelling, “Leaving the Army is not like quitting a job. Those soldiers are not being paid, there may actually be no Army chain of command left, but they stayed. That Sergeant could have forced Private Lawson to stay. He did not. He is letting him leave. That is the only promise he has to make to his soldiers. They have the right to leave when their enlistment is up. There are here out of a sense of duty, not a contract. We would all do well to be half the people they are.”

  One of the students asked, “If you like them so much, why not join them?” Some people might have taken it as an insult, but the medical students never displayed a sharp sense of humor or cutting wit in English. He was sure they were massive assholes in their native languages, but in English, they were always matter-of-fact.

  “I just might. Looks like they have an opening.”

  After talking with Sergeant Marshal, Buddy moved his small belongings to the military floor. The Corporals took turns giving buddy basic training and did not press too much on physical fitness, he was already a college athlete, playing lacrosse and baseball. They taught him to march in formation and how to field strip a rifle.

  After a month he was issued a uniform, the one spare they had that would fit him, and he was welcomed into the Army. When asked how long he would enlist for Buddy’s reply was, “I am here until this crisis ends, or I die.”

  Sergeant Marshal smiled at that and assigned him to be the quartermaster. Using his management and business skills, he consolidated the supplies between the two groups and started to organize new supply runs further and further out targeting specific needs. The run to the firehouse got them gear and supplies that they hoped they would never need, but the thick fire suits worked as good simple protection from the dead. With only one layer of forearm armor and the collars closed the soldiers were safer than ever. With each supply run, they put up signs pointing to the clinic. Each week a few more survivors would stop in.

  Early Spring saw a baby born at the clinic. The proud father and exhausted Mother stayed with them for a month, until they were ready to travel back to their home in downtown Decatur. The soldiers moved out with makeshift spears and knives keeping the area clear of dead. By summer the patrols were joined by people visiting the clinic. Sometimes they traveled with them for the easy scavenging, other times it was as payment for service from the clinic.

  As the next Fall set in 3 soldiers reenlisted and one more chose to leave. The squad was down to 14 with the addition of Buddy, one death and one leaving. It was still stronger than Doug would have ever thought. They found ammo at a checkpoint and gathered more from surrounding police stations. The clinic visitors brought food and cut down on the need to scavenge. It was just short of thriving, but it was the best they could get.

  The recovery helicopters never came. The squad kept watch, but it had become a formality. Things continued to get better, but before then they got much worse.

  Karen And the Boys

  What one bartender and two soldiers can do in a zombie apocalypse

  0

  I planned to make a run for it when the outbreak started, but could not find a place to run to. I was stuck in Florida and had to check in weekly with my Parole officer or be in violation and go back to jail to serve the rest of the sentence. Last time I went to the office a week ago, it had a sign with a phone number to call in. People milling around said they office had been closed for 2 days and a police officer stopped by to put up the sign.

  Some of the people would not leave the parole office. It became a camping area for people afraid of going back to jail. I was less concerned. Jail was not fun, but then neither was a shit job as a bartender. If they wanted to lock me up when people were dying by the millions so be it. I called the number and left a message for my parole officer, Jack Miller, I let him know I was employed and staying out of trouble.

  The next week I went by, the sign was still there, but the people were gone. The dried blood lets me know how that camp out ended. I called the number and got the mailbox was the full message. It was officially over. Society was no longer able to keep its former criminals under control.

  I packed a bag with my one pair of jeans, and I put all the underwear and t-shirts I could into the bag. I left behind the sexy stuff, what little I had. I chose sports bras and flexible underwear. It would serve me better if I had to walk. I tucked my one good pair of running shoes in the top and filled them with 6 pairs of short socks.

  I considered packing the yoga pants, but I put them on instead and just but the ugly green jumper dress that was the Holiday Inn uniform on over it. I went to work, knowing I would not return to my shit hole apartment. I left behind the crappy laptop that never worked that I got from a guy at the bar. I regretted leaving my books. I had them from my time in college and grad school. Though if the world were ending who needed books on contract management.

  I was going to find a way out of town the next day. It was payday, and I had a cash deal with the manager. The money would help me get going. I was thinking about a bus ticket or bumming a ride with a customer. I got to work to find that the manager was gone. Everyone was waiting for their pay, but he never showed up. Most people walked off furious. For some reason, I stayed. I figured I could take my pay that was owed from the till if there were customers and I would leave a note. I had no idea that money was soon to be useless. I was stuck in old world thinking. As I look back on it, I was stuck in prison thinking. In prison, you learn to not plan ahead. You live in the moment and just do what you have to do to get to the next day. If you spend your time focusing on the day you get out you will drive yourself crazy. I was doing the same thing now as the world fell apart.

  The bar was abandoned in the first days of the end of the world. Today it seemed full of people coming from Central Florida trying to leave Florida, and people coming from GA trying to get into Florida. I watched and wondered if they would realize they are just each trading problems.

  I w
atched along with the travelers as LA burned on live TV. Then New York collapsed with color commentary from an anchor that sounded more like he was calling a football game than reporting on the death of millions. CNN covered the end of the world with packaged reports and a list of ways to keep alive. Fox News declared it was “judgment day,” and started a prayer service. MSNBC just went off the air. CNBC went dark when New York fell.

  I checked Bloomberg that evening, and the Asian woman and the old white guy were talking about gathering gold and silver for trading with the collapse of the world economy. It made me wonder where the people on Bloomberg were talking from. They looked calm and happy. I imagined they were in a bunker with other rich people planning on how to run World 2.0. I hoped that one of them would turn on the air like Anderson Cooper did. It would mean the bunker of the rich was just as infected as my world.

  I wondered if I were a decent person and I was working in an office if I would even be alive. I had my MBA and a bachelor's in Management Information Systems. For some reason, no one wanted to hire a woman that shot her ex-boyfriend in the knees and set his house on fire. Three years in jail and Three more on probation I was completely unemployable by anyone who did background checks. If I were 10 years younger, stripping would be an option, but men in Florida did not want to see a petite 32-year-olds. They wanted huge-boobed 19-year-olds with even bigger hair.

  Prostitution was on the possible list, but I could never bring myself to do it. It was just too icky, and I didn’t have a drug habit to numb the pain so letting strangers pay to use my lady parts was off the list of how to make a living. One of the girls suggests call being a cam-girl but that did not feel all that different from prostitution when I looked at a few of the sites.

  So there I was, selling drinks to a crowd of people that did not grasp the world had ended. Honestly, I did not realize it was over and in walked two soldiers in full battle dress looking like they just stepped off the streets of Fallujah. They honestly had dust on them and were wearing their sunglasses. Josh was looking over the room, and David yelled out, “Anyone bit?” Josh always looked, and David always talked.

  A sick woman in the corner raised her hand. I knew that she should have kept it to herself. It did not take a brain surgeon to see what was about to happen.

  The packed bar parted, and David walked over to her, “Show me!” He spoke calmly and clearly. There was a command in his voice, no anger. It was terrifying in its finality.

  The music was playing, it was always playing, but I did not hear it. I knew what was about to happen.

  The woman showed the oozing wound on her right arm by lifting the towel. David did not hesitate. He drew his sidearm and fired a single shot to her forehead. The man with her sc

  reamed, “Murderer.”

  I had the distinct feeling by the calm look on his face that being called murderer was nothing new for David. His response was in the same command tone, “She was already dead.”

  The screaming man jumped up, and Josh shot him from across the room. One clean shot through the neck with a rifle. David aimed carefully and shot him in the head with the pistol.

  The bar started to empty quickly. I just stayed behind the bar. I could not help myself, “That was fucking effective! If you are trying to kill my business!” I yelled above the music.

  David smiled, “Sorry ma’am. Just don’t want to die today.”

  David and Josh came to the bar and asked for whatever food we had and anything with calories and no alcohol. I ended up microwaving them frozen chicken burritos and gave them a six-pack of cokes I used for mixed drinks.

  They stayed there with the mostly empty bar and kept me company as the world ground to a halt.

  1

  I made my decision to leave with them under duress. There was the shooting, the screaming and the big smile on David's face. I swear Josh opened the door of the Suburban they were driving and said, "Come with me if you want to live." I held up one finger telling them in the universal language that I need a moment. I went back to the bar, got my bag with clothes, grabbed the cash from the register and did not bother with a note.

  As I got in the back of the suburban, I could not stop laughing. I was not Sarah Conner, and it was zombies not killer robots, but it was not definitely the end of the world, and I most certainly wanted to live.

  The best thing about Florida is the sunshine and the humidity. Also, it is not Alabama. After the outbreak and the dead started to rise being in the vacation state was not a great idea. Since we were on the North side of Jacksonville, the highways were all rural with only small towns, some no more than a gas station. That meant clusters of the moving corpses were few and far between if they existed at all.

  It was still dark, and there were no more cars around. We stopped in the middle of Highway 301, and David and Josh took stock of their equipment. I had to ask if they had a pistol to spare and both offered me a 9mm Baretta. I took the one from Josh and asked for some magazines.

  Before we got going again, Josh took off a holster, and I thought he was hitting on me when he put his hands between my legs. He was just passing the low-hip strap through. I had never worn a pistol that low. I was used to belt holsters of even tucking a pistol in my pants. I walked around the suburban and found that the low strapped holster was obvious, but it moved perfectly. I liked it. With the ugly green jumper dress over my yoga pants, no one would know I was armed.

  We drove slowly through the night and by dawn we were coming up to a larger town, called Folkston. I had passed through it a few time but could not remember stopping. This was different. They did not say it, but I knew they were planning on staying for a while.

  We stopped at the local gas station/supermarket/lottery ticket location. I used my cash while they were still taking it to buy all the M&Ms they had and the entire box of beef jerky.

  They had not seen a zombie in person only on TV before they went off the air. They still had electricity, David was sure it was due to the Nuclear power plant in Baxley a few miles further inland.

  I asked the clerk if there were any hotels. He suggested there was a local woman, Martha that rented rooms, but there were no hotels. We found her house just off 3rd Street past the church just like the clerk said. I grabbed the sign in the yard that said room for rent and went to the door.

  Martha was a country pretty lady with short dirty blonde hair that said, her guy chasing days were over. If there were guys, they were chasing her, but more likely she did not care. Without a thought, I asked if she would mind if we stayed together.

  Martha smiled at me and said, "I was young once, but I never had the nerve to take on two soldiers at once." I smiled and blushed. I had not thought of it that way.

  I had not touched either of them, but I did not want to be away from them. Before you think I was looking at them as brothers do not. I had bad intentions, just no idea how to work it out. I wanted one of them but could not alienate the other. Both were out of the question. These guys were way to straight to give the "Devil's threesome" a go.

  That night we enjoyed real showers and a meal. The power stayed on til morning.

  A town of 327 people did not lose many people to accidents or natural causes compared to a city of 1 million. The dead would rise here too, it was just a matter of when. The disease seemed to have not made it here, there were pockets of that according to the news. Probably lack of travelers kept the flu part in check.

  I lay in the middle of the king-sized bed, with David on my right and Josh on my left. I can't say when it happened that night, the lights were out, but it did happen. I pulled them both to me and said, “We can make this work if you guys are game.” Hands on my body were the answer. From that night on we never talked about it. It just happened. They were not the jealous type. Not even jealous of each other.

  Martha had a sly grin over breakfast. I realized the walls were not that thick and I suspected that in retrospect I could have been quieter. It was dark, and I did not want to seem indiff
erent.

  I had paid Martha for a month with most of my cash. The boys gave me a stack of the 20s to use. When he handed to me, David said, "Spend it today, before people figure out it is useless."

  I started to ask what he meant then I realized. There was no more US government. The people were just going through the motions. The world was like a big machine. It was turned off, but it took time to grind to a complete stop.

  I found an Army Surplus store that seemed to really be someone's collection rather than a real commercial enterprise. Inside I found a small set of black BDUs and some boots that fit. I grabbed a backpack, then I found a pair of suspenders and belt like the boys had. The old man who kept staring at my chest instead of my eyes asked if wanted ammo pouches.

  It seemed reasonable. "Sure."

  "Pistol or Rifle?"

  I thought for a moment, "Both."

  I asked him how much and reached for the cash.

  The old pervert said, "Keep your money. It is worthless now. Only an idiot does not see that. Tell you what, show me your tits, and it is all yours."