The Collapse - Beginning

by V. A. Brandon

  With returning smiles, the group climbed up the ladder one at a time.

  Chapter 8

  Everyone cleaned up as best as he or she could and gathered in Justin’s apartment. When Justin introduced Garrett to Marie, Benson, Patrick, and Ms. Wentworth, the elderly woman grabbed the burly man’s arm and thanked him profusely for the food. She darted accusatory glances at Patrick even as she continued to thank the man.

  They sat down and had reconstituted seafood chowder and canned baked beans under dull candlelight. Walter slurped at his own bowl of chowder and crushed plain crackers. Everyone was smiling, and the atmosphere was one of neighborly cheer as each pointedly ignored the strange groans and hisses rising in the dark street below.

  After dinner, Ms. Wentworth wiped her mouth with a wad of toilet paper. “What a lovely meal that was. I actually feel full tonight.” She smiled at Garrett. “My dear, you are a life saver. You are welcome into our home at any time.”

  Amy piled up the bowls and went into the kitchen. Marie joined her, Walter tagging along at her feet.

  “Daniel told me you are going to go to Papa’s,” Marie whispered, her face pinched with worry. “Is this true?”

  Amy nodded. “Yeah, it is. I know it’s risky, but Garrett’s going to help us. He has a rifle. He said he sometimes hunts, so I’m guessing he’s pretty good with it.”

  Silence fell between them as Marie opened and closed her mouth several times. After a while, an odd look of determination came into the petite woman’s eyes.

  “I will go with you.”

  Amy shook her head vehemently. “No way. You have to stay with Benson.”

  Marie continued on, as though she hadn’t heard Amy. “I am small and fast. You and I will run into the shop while Justin, my husband, and Patrick fight with the Runners near us. Garrett can shoot from the balcony.” She nodded to herself. “Yes, I think this might work.”

  “That’s quite a plan,” Garrett said as he came up to them. He had heard everything. With a start, Amy and Marie whirled around to face him.

  He smiled as he crossed his arms. “I’m impressed. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  The two women mutely stared at one another, then nodded in reply.

  “That’s a lot of people,” Patrick said, his voice shaking. “Surely you don’t need three men to be down there with you.”

  “On the contrary,” Ms. Wentworth said tartly. “They will need all the help they can get.”

  Garrett slapped his hands together. “That’s settled, then. Now that our bellies are full, let’s talk about how we’re going to do this.”

  They pulled up a few more chairs and sat in the living room. Garrett mentioned his campervan, and his plan to go to his friend’s farm after he found his daughter. He invited his new friends to join him. Patrick’s and Ms. Wentworth’s eyes lit up.

  The elderly woman clapped her hands in delight. “What a wonderful idea! I’ve always wanted to live on a farm. The scenery, the fresh air, the lack of noise pollution –”

  “We’re not going there for a fun weekend, Ms. Wentworth,” Amy interrupted. “If Garrett’s friend does allow us into his bunker, we’ll have to pitch in and work. No work means no food and shelter. That’s the way it goes.”

  Patrick’s face turned ugly. “No one appointed you leader, so don’t tell us what to do. You just sit there like a good girl and shut up.”

  “Hey!” Garrett said, raising his hand. He looked alarmed. “What’s going on here?”

  Amy knew exactly what was going on. Up until now, Patrick had been careful with his words as he and Ms. Wentworth had depended on her and Justin to provide all the food and immediate necessities. But now that Garrett was here, they were quickly latching on to him. Garrett was older, a leader, someone with a plan. He would be the one to take care of them . . . be responsible for them. He would lead them out of the city. The smirk on Patrick’s face said it all: I don’t need you kids. Not anymore.

  Amy gave a fake smile. “It’s nothing. Patrick was just letting out a little pent-up steam. We’ve all been stressed, being cooped up like this. Isn’t that right, Pat?”

  Patrick remained silent, but his smirk lingered on his lips. Garrett’s head swiveled to the left and right, looking at Amy and Patrick. Once he realized what was going on, his features hardened.

  “If you want to come with me, you’d better get along. We don’t have time for fights.” He paused, then added pointedly, “Amy’s right. Each one of you had better start pulling your weight. I know my friend won’t allow any pampered fools to eat his food and take up room on his farm, that’s for sure.”

  Garrett’s words wiped the smirk off Patrick’s face. Seeing this, Ms. Wentworth cleared her throat.

  “I can knit very well. I’m also an excellent cook and baker. If your friend has fresh vegetables and fruit, I can make pies and casseroles.” For the first time, she looked cowed. “I may be old, but I wouldn’t be a burden to you or your friend.”

  Garrett smiled reassuringly. “I believe you, ma’am. I was just speaking in general. Now, let’s talk about how we’re going to do this.”

  They decided that they would go to Papa’s first. The women would quietly climb down, after which the men would quickly follow. Silence was paramount, as the Runners seemed highly attuned to sound and sight. The men would form a barricade around the women, making sure that they reached the shop safely. Once there, Amy and Marie would stock their bags with as many non-perishable items as they could fit in. They would be the first to climb back up the ladder, and the men would follow later.

  “If the situation gets dicey, I’ll have to start shooting at the Runners,” Garrett said. “It’ll get loud. When this happens, you’d better move like there’s a Runner snapping right at your ass. We don’t want to see you trapped as a horde of them descends on you.”

  “How do we kill them?” Daniel asked. “Do we stab them in the heart?”

  “That’s for vampires,” Benson piped in, disapproving. “You got to treat the Runners like psychos.” When the adults stared at him blankly, he made a face. “The Runners are crazy, right? Their brains are messed up. So smash the head. They’ll go down for good.”

  Justin nodded slowly. “That does make sense. Their infected brains are controlling their behavior. If we destroy their brains, then there’s nothing left to control their actions anymore.”

  “So when do we do this?” Patrick asked, trying to sound calm. “I mean, when’s the best time?”

  “Good question.” Garrett paused to think, then said, “I’ve noticed that they tend to become more active at night. Around noon, however, there aren’t a lot of them on the street.”

  Everyone agreed that noon was the best time to do this. Feeling tentatively optimistic, they shifted their discussion to the campervan.

  “The gas is full, so there’s no worry there,” Garrett told them. “And we can stop by at gas stations and fill up when we need to. We’ll stock the mini kitchen with the canned goods from Papa’s. That way, we won’t starve along the way.”

  “Is your campervan in the basement car park?” Daniel asked.

  Garrett nodded. “After you return from Papa’s, we’ll take the stairs down to the basement floor. We’ll do this a day later to give ourselves a bit of a breather.”

  Ms. Wentworth’s hand clutched at her bosom. “But the Runners in the hallway –”

  “Coming face to face with a Runner or two in the hallway will be a piece of cake after what they’ll face on the street,” Garrett interrupted. He smiled kindly. “This is something we have to do sooner or later, Ms. Wentworth. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable.”

  It was already close to midnight. As Garrett prepared to leave, he turned around to address them once more.

  “Grab whatever weapon you can find. Something long and sharp will be perfect.”

  “Kitchen knives?” Patrick asked hopefully.

  Benson made another face. “You’ll get their blood on you
! What if you become a Runner from that?”

  That was another problem they hadn’t considered. “We still don’t know how this infection spreads,” Justin noted. “It’s pretty certain it’s not airborne, otherwise we would all be infected. So it’s probably transmitted through bites or fluids.”

  “We have to avoid getting the blood in our eyes or mouths,” Amy said with conviction. “Also, I think we should put plastic wrap around our exposed arms and legs, just in case. If we get bitten, we’re pretty much a goner, anyway. But if it’s just blood that splatters on us, at least the plastic will make most of it slide right off.”

  Garrett nodded in approval. “It’s worth a try.” He made his way to the balcony. “Everyone, get a good night’s sleep. We’re going to Papa’s tomorrow.”

  Everyone stopped in their tracks to stare at Garrett, shocked by this announcement. Patrick took several steps back, shaking his head.

  “It’s too soon!” he said, his voice panicked. “We need time to prepare ourselves. We need time –”

  “We’ll never be prepared for something like this,” Garrett shot back. “If we delay what needs to be done, our fear will only grow worse with each day. By the end, we’ll have found an elaborate reason as to why we shouldn’t be doing this at all.”

  No one had a rebuttal to that. When no answer was forthcoming, Garrett again made his way to the balcony and threw one leg over the railing. He paused to look at the group.

  “Get some rest,” he said with a quick smile. “It’s going to be a hectic day tomorrow.”

  Chapter 9

  Amy was aware of just how ridiculous they looked, but no one was laughing. Patrick was the worst of them. He had stolen Justin’s swimming goggles to protect his eyes. Coupled with plastic wrap around his arms and legs, he looked like a shiny, humanoid robot. He wielded his long kitchen knife like someone had snuck in at night and replaced his fingers with fat sausages.

  Amy and Marie stood there holding large, empty sacks. Justin had a baseball bat, and Daniel held an iron fire poker with a wickedly sharp point at one end.

  Amy was surprised. “There’s a fireplace in your apartment?”

  “An electric fireplace stove,” he explained. “Winter is very cold here, but there is no underfloor heating in the apartment.” He shrugged. “We are not used to that.”

  Justin gave him an approving glance. “That’s a formidable weapon. Be careful that you don’t poke your own eye out.”

  They moved to the balcony and stared out into the street. The afternoon sun hung in the clear sky, high and blinding, and Amy thought with some irony, It’s another perfect day for the beach.

  The barrel of Garrett’s rifle popped over the balcony below theirs. His cheerful voice called out, “You kids ready?”

  “Sure,” Justin replied, but Amy could tell he was lying. His face was pale as he looked at her. “Who’s going down first?”

  “I am,” Amy said quickly before Marie could offer. She climbed over the railing and gently placed a foot on a wooden rung. Last night, Justin had extended the ladder so that its length reached the first floor. From there, they had to dangle off the railing and jump to the ground. Amy prayed the second- and first-floor apartments were empty.

  “Here goes,” she said with a bright smile that belied her fear. As she climbed down, she saw Garrett give her the thumbs up.

  “Brave girl,” he said. “I’ve got your back, but try to be quiet, all right? And stay low.”

  Her lips numb, Amy could only nod as she went past him and dropped to the first floor. She quickly looked around for signs of movement, then popped her head over the railing to give Justin the “okay” sign. He smiled down at her.

  When she landed on the soft grass, she immediately crouched down and scanned wildly about her. The street was empty. Above her, she saw Marie climb down slowly, then land on the first floor. She didn’t even bother to dangle from the railing. She jumped, then rolled as soon as she landed on her feet. With a smile, she stood up and joined Amy.

  The men climbed down in quick succession. Patrick, the last one to join them, pressed himself against the building.

  “I can’t do this,” he whimpered. “I . . . I’m going back up.”

  “We stick together,” Justin whispered, staring at the older man. “Now move!”

  The group crouched and ran along the street, their eyes roving in all directions. When they stepped into the street, Patrick made a strangled noise and pulled the goggles down over his eyes.

  A Runner was standing a short distance away, next to a van. One of his arms was missing, and it appeared he had been eviscerated. What was once his intestines swung from his abdomen as he ran toward them, snarling.

  Fast! Too fast! Amy thought as they began to run. Daniel turned around, holding his fire poker out, when the Runner lunged at him.

  Daniel’s reaction was instant. He held the poker up higher, and in an instant, the Runner ran its neck through the long piece of iron and came close enough to take a bite out of Daniel’s shiny outstretched arm. Before it could do that, a baseball bat came crashing down on its head, halting its progress. Justin placed a foot against the Runner’s chest and pushed it away. It slumped to the ground and remained still.

  “Is it dead?” Marie whispered, shaking.

  “I think so,” Justin replied as he nudged the Runner with his blood-stained bat. Its dead eyes stared up at the blazing sun.

  Unfortunately, luck was not on their side. Seconds later, they were spotted by two Runners. They snarled as they ran toward the group with jerky movements.

  “Go now, the both of you,” Justin said quickly. “We’ll take care of this.”

  Not wasting a second, Amy grabbed Marie’s arm, her fingers sticking on the plastic wrap as they ran to the shop at the end of the street. She didn’t stop to look back. As soon as they fell through the entrance, they slid shut the security grille. Once they were sure that they were alone, they began making their way down the aisles, grabbing canned meats, vegetables, stews, pasta, and fruits, along with dry packaged meals. They grabbed anything that looked like aspirin, and threw in bottled water into their full sacks. When they could fit no more, they lugged the sacks to the entrance, threw the grille open, and peered outside.

  Daniel saw them and came running. He reached out to grab Marie’s sack, then paused briefly to gaze into his wife’s eyes.

  “There are a lot of Runners coming this way. Do not look back. Just run, okay?”

  Nodding, Marie grabbed his fire poker as he hefted the sack over his shoulder. Amy did the same, and they bolted out into the street.

  There was blood on Justin’s cheek. Patrick was nowhere to be seen. When Amy reached him, she cried out, “Whose blood is that?”

  “It’s not mine,” he answered as he ran with them. “It’s from a Runner.”

  Did it get in your eyes? she wanted to ask, but the snarls and hisses grew closer. It sounded like there were dozens of Runners gaining on them.

  Amy gasped loudly when she felt a cracked nail scrape down the back of her head. When she jerked her head forward, there was the sound of a crackling shot, and she felt something warm spray on her neck. Unable to help it, she looked back and saw a Runner fall down behind her, half of its face gone. In a moment of madness, she wondered if the blood would leave a permanent stain on her food sack.

  “Run faster!” Justin shouted. He reached out to grab Amy’s sack and tossed her the bat. Several more shots sounded above their heads, adding to the commotion. They were almost there. Just a few more seconds.

  Garrett began picking the Runners off one by one. Except for two misses, all the shots were right on target. This gave the group crucial seconds to reach safety. Bending his legs, Daniel interlaced his fingers to form a foothold for Marie. When she put her foot in it, he boosted her up with a grunt and looked up, making sure that she could reach the first-floor railing. Beside them, Justin did the same for Amy. Once the women had safely crawled over and fallen into th
e balcony, Justin did the same for Daniel. The hair-raising sounds of hisses, snarls, and intermittent gunshots drew dangerously close. The Runners would be on Justin any second now.

  “Justin!” Amy screamed. His eyes frantic, Daniel quickly spoke to his wife in Korean, and then leaned over the railing. Marie grabbed her husband’s legs, straining with the effort. Amy hurried over to help the poor woman.

  Amy didn’t know if Justin was brave or just plain stupid. Instead of grabbing Daniel’s outstretched hands, he hefted up the sacks over his head.

  “Take them first!” he shouted. Wordlessly, Daniel grabbed the tied ends and swung the sacks over his head. Amy ducked when they flew at her, but one sack still managed to hit her left shoulder. She fell backward, dazed and in pain as cans rolled out of one of the split sacks.

  Another crackling shot filled the air. Then another. But the Runners had come too close. The nearest one was only about twenty feet away.

  Justin leaped and grabbed Daniel’s hands, causing the man to lean dangerously over the railing. At this rate, both men would topple to the ground and become food for the ravenous Runners. Marie cried out and yanked on her husband’s trousers, muttering something in her native tongue. Seeing this, Amy jumped up and wrapped her arms around Daniel’s torso. She pulled hard, praying that they would make it.

  To everyone’s relief, Justin managed to pull one leg over the railing. With a concerted effort, he threw himself over and landed in the balcony with a dull thud. Amy rushed over to him, checking to make sure he was okay. They were all alive. She couldn’t believe it.

  A veiny hand suddenly clamped on the railing, its long, cracked fingernails caked with dried blood. Marie shrieked and stepped back just as Amy picked up the baseball bat and slammed it over the fingers, crushing them. The Runner fell back, but immediately got up on its feet. With a snarl, it jumped again, trying to reach the first-floor railing like it had before.