Extinction Level Event (Book 1): The Turn

by J. Walker

  Occasionally a vehicle would speed recklessly down the dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust behind them but they never stopped. It was never Marcus or John or any of our friends. Eventually, there was nothing, no movement at all on the lonely dirt road. An oppressive and irrevocable silence ensued. Some days even the birds were still, as if they somehow knew this was the beginning of humanities collapse. I often wondered if they mourned our demise or quietly celebrated.

  Slowly recovering from our shell-shocked arrival, we began adjusting to our new lives on the farmstead. There was never an idle moment and our tasks were tedious and monotonous. However tiresome the chore, it served as a welcome distraction to the events unfolding beyond the wall, in what we’d come to call the outlands. There were countless supplies to be calculated and rationed. Everything needed to be stored and accessed according to their expiry dates.

  Every day the stalls in the barn were cleaned out while the two horses were exercised in the corral. The goats were milked and allowed to roam the inner compound while their shelter was cleaned as well. The eggs were gathered from the henhouse and the chickens pecked at the dirt for bugs and grains. The roosters strutted about like busy foremen on a factory floor. The rabbits watched with wary eyes, somehow knowing their days would soon be numbered.

  With the children eventually growing bored of the farm’s novelty, Amy decided to enlist the young ones in simple chores to help us. They were appointed to the daily task of gathering eggs from the henhouse and collecting kindling for the bonfires at night. Lathered in sunscreen, wearing wide brimmed hats and little gardening gloves, they began digging holes in the smaller field for Amy’s seedlings. The plants were desperately crowded in their tiny tray packs and needed to be put into the ground.

  Although impressed by the refurbishments that had been done, I worried about the haste in which everything had been completed. I hoped the short timeframe in which everything had been finished would not come back to haunt us in the future with substandard work that might need repairs.

  Both homes had two full baths and one half bath. They had also been furnished with composting toilets. Two additional bathrooms had been installed in the barn with similar fixtures. At the same time, all the grey water used in the households was recycled for use in the gardens and there were rain water collection barrels located throughout the property. Fresh water was pumped onto the property from the river behind the estate and purified before filling two large storage units. There was even a system to heat the water but it was a rationed luxury. The purification and heating systems, along with the storage tanks, were housed in their own secure building.

  The solar panels and windmills worked exceptionally well. I hoped the cast iron woodstoves and fireplaces would be enough to keep everyone warm in the winter. If we faced another winter like the one that just passed, it would be a monumental challenge. We were also further north by almost five hours. There were small efficient space heaters we could rely on but in all likelihood they would be a drain on the solar and wind power cells.

  Amber and Mike decided to remain in their mobile home. They had privacy and some small mementoes of the home they left behind. The RV was well equipped with its own solar power and a small windmill. The only other thing they required was a water hookup which was easily supplied. With gratitude, they added all of their supplies, with the exception of personal items, to the inventory of the compound.

  Sarah and her brothers decided that they would stay with Amy and Lauren until their parents arrived. If they arrived. Amy was very grateful for the company and the three youths were immediately taken into her care. Ashley, Bree and I, along with the twins and Bree’s two children, made our home in the larger of the two houses.

  The small group that had gathered at the compound was desperate for any distraction that kept our attention away from the reality of total social collapse. We carried out our daily chores with joyless fortitude, moving with machine like apathy. It was nothing short of relief to fall heavy into our beds at the end of the day and close our eyes to the ever-present realization that the world we knew was dying.

  We avoided any conversation that might force us to think about the vulnerability of our situation. Becoming far too entrenched in our own thoughts, conversation regarding what we would need to do in the coming weeks, let alone months, was avoided completely. Silently concerned that the outbreak could last longer than what we’d prepared for, I knew that it could easily change from months to years. We might never know if help would come at all.

  In the early days, we were able to rely on sporadic news coming out of a large city a few hours away. National news had become a thing of the past and international news was ancient history. We were lucky to receive that intermittent television service while it lasted. It wasn’t before long it started to broadcast nothing more than snowy static.

  Shortly afterwards, the internet and phone service, landlines and cellular, went dead. Our connection to the greater world was lost. The only connection that remained was the radio and that didn’t last for long either. Within a month of our arrival, we were completely cut off from the outside world. The sense of isolation was devastating.

  Eventually our escape from the city started to feel like a horrible dream. Looking back at the memories, there are fragments that have been lost completely and others that haunt my sleepless nights. I remember the freighter and the zombies moving aimlessly across the gently swaying deck. We’d been only blocks away from the shocking disaster that sent the overrun vessel aground. Its infected crew spilled onto the shores of the first Canadian city to be ravaged by the outbreak.

  Somehow the zombies had been able to reach the Detroit side of the river and within hours the downtown areas of both cities were completely lost to the dead. Their slow, lumbering and ungainly movements were nothing more than a ploy of the virus. It made their victims believe they would be easy to escape. In small groups it seemed easy enough but in great numbers, it was a death sentence.

  In only a matter of days both cities fell and the remaining pockets of resistance in the downtown cores eventually plunged into silence. Most of the dazed survivors had come from the outlying neighborhoods, the suburbs and smaller towns just beyond the city limits.

  The last reports we ever heard assured us that North America and its governments were still functioning but control had been quickly lost in those densely populated areas. These large metropolitan areas had experienced the largest and deadliest outbreaks. They had been overrun with unimaginable speed.

  Traffic jams on every major roadway, horrific accidents and the inevitable short tempers of frightened individuals made escape from the cities nearly impossible. With vehicles stalled and eventually abandoned, the masses of survivors were easily attacked by an ever growing tide of zombies.

  The most disturbing aspect of the zombies’ physical nature was the absence of intelligence or concept of pain. Even with missing limbs, an unknown instinct drove them to continue pursuing their next victim, the next host for this horrifying disease. The most appalling of wounds did not deter them from their goal.

  They did not stop, they did not rest and most unsettling, they did not fear. They were like unrelenting locusts wiping out entire crops in a matter of minutes. Their only objective was to simply pass on the virus that would one day easily consume all of humanity.

  A fever driven darkness crept across the globe. Cities and eventually nations fell victim to the plague. The virus spread exponentially and it felt like the world emerged into an age of darkness.

  Chapter Nine

  Six weeks into our confinement I awoke in the early morning hours to the unexpected sound of the alarm system alerting us to activity near the wall. I rose quickly from bed and peered out the window to the barn. Mike and Amber had been awakened as well and were already headed in that direction.

  Without enough people to monitor the video feeds or the wall twenty-four hours a day, this left us with a serious vulnerability during the nighttime ho
urs. Within minutes we were all standing frightened and confused at the entrance to the barn.

  The video monitors were located in the control room. Previously a simple tack room in the barn, part of the construction project had included a major overhaul and it had been modified to suit our needs. This simple room contained the controls for every system operating on the large farmstead. From the water purification system to the windmills and solar panels to the security system. Everything was state of the art and had been the latest technology available for those who wanted to go off the grid.

  The room was kept locked and it was accessed in the same way as the main gate, through a password protected keypad. We regarded one another cautiously, each waiting for the other to make the determining move to view the monitors. Yet our fear prevented us from action. We stood motionless and silent, afraid of what was out there, afraid of what we might see.

  Ashley’s impatient voice pierced the silence and forced us into action. “It might be dad! It might be Marcus!”

  I cleared my throat nervously. “Okay. Ashley, get back in the house and watch the kids, they’re still asleep. Sarah, you and your brothers go back to the house and stay with Lauren. Let us take care of this. Get back inside. But keep the radios on just in case.”

  Determined but frightened, the five of us ran into the barn and unlocked the door to the tack room. There were a handful of small monitors on a desk with a comfortable chair set in front of it. I sat down in the large chair and turned the alarms off. I began to browse through the various video feeds until I found the camera monitoring the front gate.

  Using night vision technology, the camera revealed a man heavily laden with gear but it wasn’t Marcus or John. Accompanying the man were two teenaged boys, similarly burdened with their own equipment. Standing close to the wall were two young children, each with a small school backpack. They didn’t appear to be infected but there was always the possibility of a hidden bite or scratch.

  It appeared as though the small group had attempted to scale the wall but it was an impossible feat without the proper apparatus. The outer keypad was hidden behind a camouflaged nook to the left of the large sliding entry door but even if they’d known where it was, without the passcode, they could not open the gate.

  They turned to look up at the camera when they noticed its movement and they began to wave desperately. The children looked woefully down the road and then to their benefactors for help. I watched as the man reached down to scoop the two youngsters in his arms and the two teens readied the crossbows that were slung across their backs.

  I turned up the volume on the feed.

  “Please! You’ve gotta help us!” The man with the two children in his arms pleaded.

  “Dad!” One of the boys said with urgency. “I see three of them coming down the road.”

  I looked at Amy and asked. “What should we do? We can’t just leave them out there.”

  “They look harmless enough. They’ve got kids with them for God’s sake!” Mike said as he looked at Amy and then again at me.

  Amy remained silent and fearful. Finally, she shook her head and in a low voice she stammered. “I just, I just I don’t know.” She looked to me for direction, her eyes pleading.

  I jumped up from the chair impatiently and pushed past everyone to make my way out of the barn. Tucked securely in the waistband of my yoga pants was the handgun I’d brought from home more than a month ago. I double checked the cartridge nervously but didn’t release the safety.

  “Mike, come with me. Everyone else stay put.” Under my breath I added. “You got a weapon? Sounds like there’s trouble out there.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve never actually seen one up close. I’ve never had to…..” My voice trailed off with uncertainty.

  “Me neither.” Mike replied gruffly.

  We made our way through the chain link fence towards the exterior abatement wall, where the main entrance was. I climbed up on the scaffolding while Mike keyed the password into the interior keypad. I had forgotten to take my night vision binoculars with me but the moon was full, allowing me to clearly see the three shambling figures in the distance. This was our first contact with the undead, virus ridden zombies.

  I looked down to the figures on the ground and called out to them. “We’re opening the gate. Hurry!”

  They looked up and their relief was almost palpable. Mike slid the large door open wide enough for the small group to quickly enter. He closed it quickly but quietly and it locked automatically.

  The man set the children down and he lowered his bags to the ground, while the older boys did the same with their gear. The drowsy children looked at the thick forest around them in bewilderment.

  One of them, a little girl no older than three years of age, rubbed her eyes clumsily and yawned.

  “I sleepy.” She whispered.

  The man reached down to gently tousle her hair.

  “I know you are sweetie, I know. Here, have a granola bar.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket and retrieved the promised treat.

  “But you have to promise me, both of you.” He paused, looking at both children. “Promise me that for a few minutes, you’ll keep very quiet.”

  “Because of the monsters!” The little boy spoke up a little too loudly.

  “Indoor voice.” The taller of the two teen boys said sternly and winked.

  I climbed down from the scaffolding.

  “Anyone bit or scratched?” I asked the question immediately, forgoing any pleasantries.

  I was terrified of our location being discovered by zombies but I was far more worried about anyone in the refuge becoming infected.

  The man looked at me and extended his hand. I shook it cautiously.

  “Name’s Sam.” He said as he shook my hand firmly. “No, none of us. But we barely escaped. We lost two of our group. I thought the zombies had lost our trail but there’s three coming up the road. We gotta take them out. They’ll know we’re here and more will come.” He pulled out a large hunting knife from one of the backpacks he had set on the ground.

  I looked at Mike and waited for him to speak or make some gesture of understanding. He remained motionless, unable to speak or move. I knew he was afraid, I was scared too, but the situation required immediate action.

  “Mike!” I looked at the new arrivals apologetically and said. “We’ve been locked up here since the outbreak hit Windsor-Detroit. We haven’t had to….we haven’t had any contact.”

  The man nodded with understanding.

  “My boys and I will take care of them.”

  “No!” I exclaimed. “I want to go with you. I have to do this.”

  I began to pull the weapon from its place in my waistband.

  Sam spoke up again, holding his hand up. “No. That’ll make too much noise. It’ll attract more of them.”

  He pulled another long hunting knife from his backpack while his boys prepared their crossbows.

  “You’ll need to use this.” He said as he handed me the soundless weapon.

  Sam and his two sons went outside the gate first to wait for the three shuffling, decaying corpses to come closer before they acted. I was beginning to grow impatient with the slow progress of the approaching figures.

  Leaving the two tired children under Mike’s supervision, I slid the gate open soundlessly and I crept behind Sam. I watched with a blend of uncertainty and admiration as the two boys readied their crossbows. The bowstrings had already been drawn and they silently but skillfully prepared their bolts.

  The stench of the approaching zombies decaying flesh assaulted my senses but I held back my revulsion. I didn’t want to appear weak in the eyes of the newcomers. Even in the pale light of the full moon I could see the viciousness of the attacks that had delivered them into these vile and horrifying creatures. It was difficult to believe that a simple virus could be capable of creating such a terrifying thing.

  One of them had a missing arm that looked as though it
had been literally chewed off at the elbow. Ragged shards of white bone glistened at the place where the rest of the arm should have been. Black stringy flesh hung loose at the wounds sight. Its opaque eyes moved listlessly and its mouth moved instinctively as it sensed its next meal. From its teeth hung the shredded flesh of its last victim and yet it still hungered for more. The sound that issued from its ruined throat was a low guttural groan that made me want to return to the inner safety of the wall.

  Quickly and silently, the boys took down two of the three zombies. They moved the bodies to the ditch on the other side of the road and removed the bolts from their heads.

  “You sure?” Sam asked, turning to face me. “My boys and I have been out here since the shit hit the fan. We’ve dealt with them before. We know what to do.”

  Even though I was shaking uncontrollably, I nodded in the affirmative.

  “Yes…” I whispered hesitantly. “I’m sure.”

  He approached the last standing zombie slowly and cautiously. When he moved, it moved, their actions resembling a surreal but macabre dance. The things face was chewed and unrecognizable. The lower jaw was simply gone and the rotting remnants of its swollen black tongue lolled uselessly on its bloated neck.

  “It’s easier if you can get them through the eye, the ear, under the chin or the base of the neck. Softer tissue. Going through the skull take strength and practice. It should be easy with this one. Just watch out for a grab.”

  I took a deep, ragged breath, knowing that I needed to learn how to deal with the undead pestilence. The sooner I became used to killing these things, the better. It wouldn’t be long before we were faced with the reality of more zombies finding us.