The Z Strain

by Matthew Isaiah Crawford

  “That doesn’t explain why they would kill us.” Gary said shaking his head.

  “We know their location, it’s too dangerous to let us walk away. I wouldn’t let someone go if they knew the location of my camp.” Joel stopped and looked at Gary.

  “Fuck, do you think so?” He asked.

  “I really do.” Gary responded peering back towards the house.

  “Well, what do we do? We need to get out of these handcuffs.” Nancy said.

  “We can find a key, or something to get these cuffs off, right Gary?”

  “Yea, but how do we get away. They have to be watching us if they’re planning on killing us.” Gary responded.

  “We were coming up to a highway.” Joel said. “The town of Tipton is due east of us. I’ll head towards the highway and hold up in the first substantial structure I can find.

  “What, why?” Nancy asked.

  “I’m going to run, we need a diversion. I’ll pull them away and then double back to the highway.”

  “God, I don’t like this.” Nancy said.

  “Trust me, I don’t either.” Joel smiled. “Don’t worry, I ran track in high school. I can do this.” Before anyone else could argue he was sprinting away. The rest of them waited for only a moment or two. Joel must have hit the road because there was an eruption of gunfire began. Nancy covered her mouth. They were all thinking that he had died until they heard children yelling and crashing through the corn.

  “They’re chasing him.” Nancy said.

  “Run Joel, run.” Whispered Robert

  “We should go.” Gary said moving in the opposite direction.

  They reached the edge of the corn and waited. Looking in every direction, they didn’t see anything moving. Gary did however note the glint of a key in the middle of the road.

  “You two, stick to the edge, head down that way, I’m going for that key.”

  “Gary, don’t”

  “We need that key. It looks like the coast looks clear.”

  “We’ll find another way.” Nancy pleaded.

  “Just don’t.” Said Robert

  “Gary. We can’t do this without you. We can find another way.” Nancy was pulling on his shirt.

  “Okay, come on, stick to the corn.” Gary said reluctantly turning away from the key.

  In the distance a red headed boy named Eliot took his eye out of a rifle scope.

  “Shit.” He whispered.

  Kentucky

  The wind whipped around inside the car with the back window missing. Nick had been scanning the rural countryside for anything that he thought could help them.

  “We have to stop. Soon.” He looked over at Billy who had a dumfounded look on his face. “We need to stop, I’m. I’m hurt.”

  “God, how, where?” Billy asked jumping up onto his knees. He could see that Nick wasn’t using his left arm, he looked behind his head and saw the top of his shirt was soaked with blood. On the back of the seat Billy could see a bullet hole. “Are you going to be okay?” Billy sobbed.

  “Yea, yea, I’m going to be fine. I just need to get patched up. So, keep your eye out for something medical. Hospital, pharmacy, a doctor’s office, even a dentist. Anything, okay?”

  “Yea, I’m looking! What else can I do?” Billy was near panic.

  “Just keep looking.” Nick said calmly. Billy returned his eyes to the road

  And like a gift from God it appeared on the right side of the road. An old run-down building with red paint. The family drug of Wheelwright.

  “There! There! I see it!” Billy yelled jumping up and down in his seat. Nick pulled off into the parking lot and pulled up in front of the doors.

  “Be alert. Never know what’s coming.” Nick said in halting breaths. He held out a

  “I am. I will.” Billy said.

  Nick pushed his way out of the car door with his back and shoulder screaming in pain as he moved. He checked both directions but didn’t see any movement. They reached the front door it had a large red sign that read ‘COME IN, WE’RE OPEN!’. Nick pushed against the font door, finding it unlocked, he walked through. Nick’s vision was fading in and out. He knew he’d lost too much blood and would lose consciousness soon. He scanned the room left and right, he didn’t see any movement.

  “Billy, look. We need a knife, or scalpel, some bandages, and alcohol. The bullet is in my back against my shoulder blade. I can feel it scraping the bone every time I move. We have to pull it out.” Nick said peeling his bloody shirt away from the wound.

  “I don’t know how to do that I.” Billy stammered. Nick fell to his knees as time began to move in flashes.

  He saw his dead children, his wife, the garbage truck, Billy. He thought to himself how he had to stay strong for Billy.

  “You’re all he’s got in the world.” Nick said to an empty room.

  Billy ran up a few minutes later, his arms full of supplies. He said a bunch of words that sounded like they were coming from underwater. He had something and something and was going back for something. Nick faded out of consciousness. When he awoke Billy was in front of him holding up a bottle of alcohol and gauze pads. Nick nodded his head and faded away again.

  He returned abruptly when Billy poured the alcohol down his back. The area around the injury felt like it was set afire, the rest of his back felt like it had been doused in cold water.

  Then the tunnel started to close. Losing consciousness to blood loss is different from being knocked out. Blacking out from a lack of blood is like sliding down a slow slide, gently gliding off into oblivion. Your destination is unknown, but you really don’t care either. The blackness envelopes you, wraps you like a warm blanket as you drift down into oblivion. It takes away all your pain, all your cares. You are truly (possibly for the first time in your life) free.

  Emerging back to consciousness is akin to a slap in the face along with a bucket of ice water. Reality slams back down upon you like a ton of bricks. All the pain flows back through your mind like a tsunami.

  Nick awoke, finding himself on the floor of the pharmacy. His view filled with the orange and red checkered felt carpet. He could see the bloody scalpel on the floor along with many blood-soaked rags. Several areas of the shelves are in a state of disarray, items are strewn all over the floor. Nick sees Billy seated behind him.

  “Drink this, it’s still mostly cold.” Billy handed him a glass of orange juice. “You were asleep for a long time. I was worried you weren’t going to wake up.” Nick pushed himself up to a sitting position, Billy could tell it caused him a lot of pain.

  “Where did this come from?” Nick asked gesturing towards the glass of orange juice.

  “It’s from the freezer case, it was all melted, but I’m sure it’s okay.”

  “Thanks.” Nick said drinking it down.

  “You’re still bleeding a little, be careful.”

  “I will.” Nick said finishing the orange juice. “So, no one was in here huh?”

  “Yea, there’s a lady back there.” Billy turns and gestures toward the back of the store. She’s locked in the back.”

  “Did you kill her?” Nick asked.

  “No, the door’s locked. She’s behind a cage.”

  “Behind the cage, like the pharmacy where all the medicine is?”

  “Yea, I think so.” Billy said.

  “Well we’re going to have to get in there and take care of her. We’re going to need that medicine back there.” Nick said.

  “Okay.” Nick painfully got to his feet, and Billy followed him to the back of the store.

  Nick was expecting to see a woman in a lab coat, a pharmacy worker. What he found was a young woman, who appeared to be in her twenties, who had been trying too hard to get through the door that the entire left side of her face is caved in. Her teeth jutting out through her cheek, her left eyeball is dangling from the socket. Nick looked around the register for a few seconds before noticing the pharmacy keys on the floor. His back and shoulder scream out in pain as
he bends The sound of the keys got an immediate reaction from the young woman behind the door who began screeching and clawing at the door. Nick slid the key into the door and looked over at Billy.

  “Ready?” Billy nodded. Nick turned the key and opened the door.

  He was surprised by the strength of the young woman, and by his own weakness. She pushed through the door and knocked him to the ground with relative ease.

  The woman went straight towards Billy, his hands went up in front of his face defensively. Her gaping mouth came to rest squarely on his forearm. Billy screamed out as she ripped a mouthful of flesh from his right arm. Nick stood up behind her, pulling the sword from his pack. He swung and severed her head, wincing in pain as he moved. The severed head fell from her shoulders and bounced onto the tile floor with a dull smack before coming to rest against the counter. A black fluid oozes from the skull as the smell of rot fills the room.

  Billy was standing there with his arm out staring at the wound in disbelief. They made eye contact for just a moment before Nick swung the blade again, this time severing Billy’s right arm just below the elbow. Billy’s eyes are wide with shock as blood jets from the wound, and splatters across the linoleum floor.

  Before Billy could even scream Nick had grabbed a pink flowered sundress from off the shelf and wrapped it quickly tying a tight knot around his bicep. Now Billy had begun to scream hysterically, staring at where his left hand used to be.

  Nick pondered for a moment before walking to the far corner of the room and pulled out his handgun. Billy, watching this is at first confused to what Nick is doing. Like a lightbulb going off he knew the answer a moment later.

  “You still think. I might change.” Billy said between gasps. Nick considered his answer.

  “Yes. I’m not sure how this all works. But yea, I think you might still change.”

  “Wow.” Billy sat down and cradled his hurt arm. “I’m sorry, I should have been ready.”

  “No. Billy, I’m sorry.” Nick holstered his weapon. “I should never have opened that door I wasn’t prepared for how strong she was.”

  “So. How long?” Billy asked cradling his arm against his chest.

  “I wish I knew.” Nick said shaking his head. He was nearing tears. He was feeling like he was going to continue to lose everyone he cares about in this world.

  “What now?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we wait.” Nick said.

  Clark County Jail, Las Vegas Nevada

  Monday, 11:34 AM

  Derrick Parker had gone to jail for public intoxication and assault on a police officer. His court date was scheduled for this morning, though he had a feeling that he might miss it.

  Friday night he’d been drinking in a local watering hole called Jacksons something or other out on the south end of town heading into Henderson.

  Seemed like a decent enough joint, he walked in, made himself at home, noted the pool tables and the impressive looking juke box at the edge of the room. As he was sitting down the blonde waitress who appeared to be in her mid to late forties was already setting a coaster in front of him.

  He had been in a piss poor mood when he had walked into the joint and it didn’t improve as the night led on. A half hour and three Jack and Cokes later he found himself shooting pool. He ended up losing a good chunk of money which caused his mood to sour even further.

  He knew he had started the fight, he knew he had pulled out a pool cue and hit someone with it, next thing he knew he had four cops on top of him.

  Night one he spent in the drunk tank, also known as an empty cell with tiled floor and a drain in the center. Saturday morning, he had been moved into cell block C, he was given a room by himself, though there was a bunk bed, but this cell block was only at about half capacity.

  Saturday evening Derrick had headed to his bunk around eight, there were still some people milling around playing cards as he walked into his cell. He was just drifting off to sleep when he was awoken by yelling out in the block. He looked out the small vertical window for his cell door and could see that all hell had broken loose.

  At first Derrick thought a fight had broken out. There had been several scuffles since his arrival. It didn’t take him long to figure out it was much more. He saw a man get his throat ripped out by another man. A few moments later he saw the man without a throat get up and attack another man. Soon the bay was covered in blood, and most of the prisoners had vanished.

  The guards arrived in force with tactical gear and riot shields. They barely made it through the door before being overrun leaving the door that led out into the main concourse wide open. The cell block was virtually empty. He hadn’t seen any motion for quite a while now and was ready to leave the safety of his cell.

  He presses his face to the door trying to get a view down both sides of the hallway. He doesn’t see anything moving. He slowly and quietly pushes the door open. There are pools of blood scattered throughout the hallway, but there were only a couple of bodies. Derrick made his way slowly through the block, his eyes constantly moving, scanning for any signs of motion. He made it to the corner of the room to the guard post. It’s placed at the center of four blocks and through the bars and bullet proof glass, the other blocks can be seen on black and white video monitors. All three other blocks had similar scenes as his cell block, lots of blood, but only a few bodies.

  Derrick makes his way out of cell block C and into the guard post which is also unlocked. Hoping very much to find a weapon, he finds the booth empty. The only things in the room were the rolling chair, which appears to be about thirty years old, and the TV monitors that only showed death. Moving into the main corridor it’s like a scene from a horror movie. The white tile has splatters of blood. There are a couple actual body parts laying in the hallway, but no dead bodies. A smell begins to fill the air. Derrick’s senses must be fooling him, because he smells what could only be described as a barbeque. His stomach immediately begins to grumble.

  He makes a right turn and begins to see smoke filling the air. He slows his pace as he continues down a long hallway. He saw them when he reached the next intersection. An undead horde heading out the front doors to the jail, but they were being met by what appeared to be flamethrowers. He moved cautiously towards the door not wanting to get too close.

  Derrick found a safe place to sit back and watch. It took a few minutes for all of the zombies to file out the door. Once all the dead had exited a group of armed soldiers began to walk through the door, sweeping left and right. A soldier with a gas mask leveled an assault rifle at Derrick’s head. Derrick responded quickly by putting his hands up.

  “Survivor! Survivor!” The soldier yelled. Two other soldiers quickly flanked him with their guns drawn on Derrick who was frozen in place. “Have you been bit?”

  “No.”

  “On your feet. This way.” The soldier motioned to the door. Derrick rose to his feet and walked out the front door, his heart beating from machine guns that were all pointed in his direction. Stepping out of the building into the Nevada mid-day sun, the temperature rose at least ten degrees. Before his eyes had a chance to adjust to the sunlight he tripped and almost fell over the charred remains of another prisoner. When Derrick looked up, he saw the streets littered with bodies, most of them burnt and smoldering. Several soldiers with flamethrowers walked in front of a line of armored personnel carriers, tanks, and hummers. Behind them was a line of semi-tractor trailers as far down as they could see. Derrick thought to himself that there must be a hundred vehicles here. A man on top of one of the hummers manning a .50 caliber machine gun was yelling down to him, Derrick could tell that he was speaking to him, but couldn’t make out the words. The man yelled again.

  “How many more alive in there?” The soldier yelled again.

  “None. None that I saw.” Responded Derrick. The soldier shook his head in disgust and returned his focus to the front of the jail.

  “This way! This way!” A soldier that appeared to be in his fif
ties was yelling and waving at Derrick. Trying to make sense of the scene that was laid out in front of him Derrick lumbered towards the motioning soldier. Looking down the street there were several other groups of soldiers that were clearing buildings in a similar fashion. Derrick could see that there were several buildings on fire, and there were soldiers manning fire trucks trying to put out the flames. Derrick was directed down the street and herded into a line with a dozen or so other people. In front of him was a young lady wearing a dirty white tank top and cut off jean shorts.

  “You know what all this is about?” Derrick asked. She turned around and looked at Derrick, he watched as her eyes scanned down his body at the orange jail scrubs he was wearing. The softness that had been on her face prior to this recognition is now gone.

  “No, these guys rescued me off my roof, my sister, she.” She stopped apparently not wanting to recant her story. Derrick looked ahead, he could see that each person was let into stalls that was surrounded by soldiers. They were then ordered to strip naked, their bodies were examined, and then they were moved off somewhere he couldn’t see.

  “What the hell?” Derrick said, still confused at his surroundings.

  “They have to check everyone for bites, and then we go to quarantine.”

  “Quarantine?”

  “To make sure were not infected.”

  “And the Army, they’ve got the whole city under control?” Derrick asked astounded. The young woman turned and looked at him like he was crazy.

  “I don’t know, but these guys, they’re not the army.” She said shaking her head.

  Montana

  Jeff Covemaker and Terry Whitaker were trekking through the mountains of southeastern Montana. The swarm that had overrun their survivalist compound had moved off to the north. They were heading east, back towards civilization. They were approaching highway 95 when Jeff abruptly stopped and listened.