ESCAPE
FROM METRO CITY
Richard Mandel
www.severedpress.com
Copyright 2020 by Sam Pettus
"All Along the Watchtower"
(The Jimi Hendrix Experience)
Prologue
It was late in the evening of the 24 of July, 1983. It was also the third day of what eventually became known as the Metro City Outbreak -- that terrible event in which almost everyone both in town and the surrounding countryside were transformed into bloodthirsty zombies. There was a longer and more official sounding name for what happened, of course, having far more syllables but saying far less. To the general public, and to the pitiful handful of area residents who somehow survived that terrible event and lived to tell their tales, they referred to it simply as the Outbreak. For them that was name enough.
The history of Metro City prior to the Outbreak can be summed up in brief. It was at one time a small city of just over seventy-six thousand residents, per the last official census, located in that part of the United States where the American Midwest and Southwest areas came together. That figure did not count another several thousand or so illegal immigrants, mostly Mexican but with a fair smattering of other nationalities and ethnic types, who also lived both in the city proper and just outside its official limits. It had been founded on and later expanded to both sides of a bend to the south of the Catachee River. The shape of both the bend and its banks had proven to be an natural anchorage for flat bottom boats and barges in pioneer days, and later steamboat docks and piers in Western times. The surrounding area was fertile thanks to periodic river flooding, which encouraged the settlement of many flatland farms with crops suitable to such conditions, such as rice, soybeans, and so on. As the years passed, it had both grown and become important enough during those early decades for a branch line of the local railroad to be built through it, which in turn reinforced its status as one of the major transportation hubs of its region.
Metro City's size had stabilized and declined somewhat with the arrival of the twentieth century Gregorian calendar, as its younger generations moved away to the bigger cities in the Midwest and Southwest and left the heartland behind. Even so, the arrival of the Pandora Corporation immediately after World War II had done much to revive Metro City in the years that followed. Better known as PandoraCorp or just Pandora for short, it had built a large industrial complex just outside of town, to the northeast of Metro City's own industrial district on the northern bank of the Catachee. Both it and the city had grown considerably during the postwar economic boom and subsequent Cold War decades. It should also be noted that nobody knew exactly what went on inside the Pandora properties, although there was much talk of private government contracts and secret military projects and such. They employed plenty of locals on non-sensitive matters, such as custodial and catering duties and frequent on-site construction, so no one really complained. Business was good and steady, and Pandora was thought of well by practically everyone save the nutcases and environmentalist wacko jobs. They would come and spin their spiel and then leave, and then life as its citizens knew it would resume exactly as before. That is, until the Outbreak went down in Metro City.
The fact that the Outbreak took place in Metro City didn't really matter. The same thing could have happened anywhere in that region, or in any part of the United States were circumstances were similar. As for the particulars, everyone knew the Outbreak had definitely originated within the Pandora industrial complex, but nobody seemed to know what it was or how to stop it. All they knew was that it spread like wildfire, and within a day over 90% of the population both within the city and a roughly five-mile radius outside of it were showing definite signs of infection. By the evening of the first day almost all of what few humans were left were also showing the signs, the federal government was on the scene in force, and the U.S. Army had sealed off the entire area under biological quarantine. By late morning of the second day, almost everyone who was infected had turned into zombies or were showing the advanced signs of infection prior to turning. That was when the killing began, spontaneously initiated by the tens of thousands of zombies now populating Metro City and everywhere else within the quarantine zone. It continued non-stop for the rest of that terrible second day and well into the third. The zombies were doing most of the killing, but the U.S. Army was shooting anyone and anything that tried to breach the quarantine barricades from Metro City ... no matter if it were still human or not.
Chapter 1
Encounters
Cy was running. It was the only thing he could do. He didn't have enough ammo left to stand and fight. He had one partial clip in his M-16A1 assault rifle and one full one left in his bandolier. The rest were empty, as were his ammo pouches. Forget about discretion and valor and all of that. This was survival, pure and simple, doing his best to stay alive for as long as possible, and with a rampaging herd of bloodthirsty zombies hot on his heels. He could still hear the dying screams of the other three convoy survivors in his group who had fled that debacle, as the zombie horde first caught up to and then promptly overwhelmed them. He was the only one left, and there wasn't any choice in the matter. Cy ran, as a large flock of crows led by a big black raven swooped over him, apparently following the street to their next feeding ground. There were plenty of bodies in Metro City for them to feast upon. As far as they were concerned, the little green Army man running below could hold for now. His turn would come soon enough.
There was an intersection coming up and it appeared to be clear. Three possible choices: straight ahead, go left, or go right. Going left was the closest option, given that he was running down the left side of Matheson Avenue, so he took it. He made the turn onto Derleth Drive at full tilt, with the zombie horde also making the turn a few seconds later. Slowly but surely Cy was pulling ahead of his undead pursuers, largely due to his being in better physical shape than them. If only he could keep running long enough, then maybe he could come across some means of shaking them loose for good. Once that was done, maybe he could find some new means to defend himself, maybe even find a vehicle that had the keys in it and still worked, and then he could high-tail it out of town back to the Army quarantine line. He could almost imagine the reaction of General Ryan, the officer in charge of enforcing the federal quarantine on Metro City. Where's the rest of your unit, soldier? He knew what his answer would be too. "We got mobbed, sir, and our weapons weren't enough to stop them. There must have been thousands of them. We didn't stand a chance, and I'm just lucky to be alive, sir." Cy now laughed to himself as he ran. The Army had been foolish to even send in the rescue convoy, knowing the threat that it faced inside the infected city. Even so, there were some things you did because you had to, because it was the right thing to do, because that way you wouldn't look bad in the history books and never mind the cost in lives. This had been one of those things. Now it was done, and everybody except him had died, and now he was running for his life. He had been incredibly lucky so far. If only his luck would hold.
Cy heard it long before he saw it coming. It was the deep-throated roar of a muscle car motor, and not long after he first heard it the car itself popped into view, swinging around the turn from a side street onto his at high speed. It was green with black highlights and a black breather sticking out of its hood, and it was heading straight for him. The car's driver must have seen him about the same time that he saw the car, because it promptly decelerated and came to a stop. The driver cut the wheel hard left at the end and slung it around as it did, so that it came to rest broadside to the street. The left side door opened, and a female figure dressed in a black racing suit with red and white trim popped out. The visored racing helmet that she was wearing hid her face
, but not the long black hair coming out from under its back. She had an AK-47 assault rifle in her hands, and she immediately went into a firing crouch behind the front of the car. "RUN!!!" she called to Cy. "I'll cover you!!!"
Somewhere within him Cy found an extra reserve of strength previously untapped. He sprinted for the muscle car, trying to keep as low as he could. He heard the distinctive loud and heavy chatter of an AK-47 on full auto blasting away as he ran. He heard zombies scream and wail behind him, and a number of bodies falling to the pavement, but he never looked back. He kept his eyes front and focused on his improbable savior as he ran. The firing briefly stopped as the woman changed clips and then it picked up again, but by that time Cy was almost there. He crossed the last dozen yards or so in record time and almost fell against the passenger side of the muscle car. "Get in!" the young woman driver yelled, as she came up out of her firing crouch and tossed her assault rifle in the back of the car. By that time Cy already had the door on his side open and had lurched into the passenger seat. She was already in her seat on the driver's side and had slammed her door shut about the same time as he got his closed. One of her hands went to the stick shift while her right foot found the accelerator. The muscle car's motor, which had been idling until now, suddenly roared to full life. The rear tires squealed as the muscle car took off, its driver forcing it to swerve around again and go back the way it came. The survivors of the zombie horde were left far behind as the muscle car thundered back down to the intersection, took the other cross street turn, and was gone.
Cy caught his breath as he sat inside the muscle car. He didn't argue and he didn't ask questions. He was just glad she had been there, and that he was alive. As his panting slowed into normal breathing, his eyes focused on a four letter word that was part of the dashboard before him. 'CUDA. He suddenly looked at his savior. "Barracuda?" he asked.
"HemiCuda," a husky female voice corrected. "1971 Plymouth HemiCuda. Last of the old style muscle cars, and not many of these was made. I paid a lot to get it, but I'm glad I did." The female driver turned and gave Cy a quick look. He had just enough time to see a pair of intelligent brown eyes regard him behind the helmet's visor, then they just as quickly turned back to the road. "Name's Lisa Stanridge," the young woman said. "What's your name?"
"Cy," Cy responded immediately. After a beat, he added, "Corporal Cyrus Rappalo, U.S. Army." He paused, almost did a double take, and then added. "Not THE Lisa Stanridge? As in the stock car racer who beat Pandora's team for the Bellville Cup last year?"
"The same," Lisa replied. "Pleased to meet you, Cy." She stopped talking for a moment to thread the rapidly moving 'Cuda through a series of abandoned and wrecked cars on their side of the street, then spoke again. "You were with that Army convoy that rolled into town not long ago."
"Yeah," Cy admitted, looking down. "I was."
"I was coming to meet you," Lisa said. "Heard about you on the radio. Got delayed by a pack of overeager zombies who didn't want to let me out of where I holed up last night. I was hoping you guys would be my ticket out of town. Now I'm glad I was late."
"So am I," Cy said, "both for me and you. We got wiped out. Too many zombies and not enough of us, even with our heavy machine guns and grenade launchers and all."
"So I gathered," Lisa said. "You the only survivor?"
"As far as I know," Cy said.
"Damn," Lisa said, shaking her head as she did. "Still, I give you guys points for trying to save what few of us are left, if any." She gave a sigh. "I haven't seen anyone else still human like me since yesterday."
"Yeah," Cy said with a little laugh, then fell silent. They drove on like this for about another minute or so, then he spoke again. "So where are we going?"
"National Guard Armory," Lisa responded. "We're about five minutes out. I'm guessing you need to ammo up, and I'm eventually going to need a gun like yours with the ammo to go with it. They'll also have a radio transmitter that you can use to call out, and I'm guessing you need to do that too." She then gave her own laugh. "Unless you want me to take you back to your convoy and we try our luck there."
"Lord, no," Cy said with a shudder.
"Then that's settled," Lisa said.
Cy now gave Lisa a curious look. "May I ask a question, ma'am?"
"Lisa," Lisa corrected. "Save the manners for later. Ask away."
"Okay, Lisa," Cy said, "and you can call me Cy. Why haven't you turned?"
"Beats the hell out of me," Lisa said. "Everyone around me last night was already a zombie. Everyone I was with yesterday turned. I was at the racetrack outside of town when it happened, and I was the only person there who either didn't turn or got killed. The only way I could get out was to drive off the track, dodging wrecked cars all the way, and plowing straight through a crowd of zombies to get to my regular car outside." She now chuckled. "This one."
"Why didn't you just keep going in your stock car?"
"Because stock cars get lousy gas mileage, and my AK was in the trunk of my 'Cuda along with my ammo," Lisa said with a grin. "Call me a gun nut if you want. I grew up with guns, and me and a bunch of the other drivers, we were planning on going shooting together on the local gun club range after the race. Good thing I was armed when all of this started."
"Yeah," Cy agreed. He thought for a moment, then asked another question. "So why did they go ahead and hold the race, given the Outbreak?"
Lisa shrugged her shoulders. "Because they thought it would be good for everyone's morale, or something like that. We weren't going anywhere given the quarantine, so why not? Live life as usual as much as you can, you know?" She gave a little laugh. "You know how crazy people get in situations like this. Hurricane fever, and all that. The only thing they didn't count on was everyone turning zombie."
"Yeah," Cy said.
Lisa shot him another quick look, then put her eyes back to the road. "There's more to tell, Cy, but the Armory's coming up. I'll save it for later."
Cy raised his assault rifle, cradling it before him in a ready position. "Just so you know," he said, "I've got only two clips left: a partial in my gun and one full one in my bandolier."
"Not so good on ammo myself," Lisa said. "Shot that batch off rescuing you, and the rest getting out this morning and ... well ... I'll tell you once we're ammoed up." She swung the car around a sharp turn. "Here's our first stop. Get ready."
"Ready when you are," Cy said, as Lisa guided the 'Cuda into the Armory's main drive.
Metro City's National Guard Armory looked like it had been the site of a major battle, and the National Guard had lost. The front gates had been knocked from their hinges, and twisted sections of the surrounding mesh fence were likewise torn out and lying on the ground along with their former support poles. Bodies were everywhere: lying on the pavement, tangled up in the barbed wire barricades, sprawled over sandbag emplacements, splayed on or hanging out of various vehicles (some of which were wrecked), and so on. Spent shell casings were also everywhere. It was quite obvious that the local National Guard contingent had put up one hell of a fight against the zombies before they too were overcome by the sheer number of their undead foes.
Lisa popped the door on her side of the parked 'Cuda. She took a moment to take off her racing helmet, revealing a head full of luxuriant long black hair, then in a flash she had her AK-47 assault rifle out of the back seat and in her hands. Cy also popped out of his side of the car, his own M-16A1 in hand. He noticed that she was wearing something very much like a military style pouch slung around her waist, and he guessed that it held spare preloaded ammo clips. She glanced around quickly, then turned to him and spoke. "Start scavenging. I'll cover you."
Cy quickly went to the closest body clad in woodland camo and bearing military gear, and gave it a quick once-over. He looked back at Lisa, shook his head, then jinked to the next one. It wasn't until the fourth body that he hit paydirt, but by then the zombies had started to appear. Two clad in the remains of civilian clothes came out from around one side
of a wrecked M35 transport truck, while three in bloody woodland camo rose up from behind one of the sandbagged emplacements. Two long bursts from Lisa's AK put both groups down. She was changing clips when Cy dashed back to her, carrying a bandolier in hand out of which stuck a number of 30-round spare M-16 ammo clips. "Almost full," he said. "Got lucky there. I'm good on ammo now."
"My turn," Lisa said.
"Got your back," Cy said, as he began to swing around and sweep the area.
It took Lisa a little longer. Getting a new assault rifle was easy enough, as there were two lying within sight near the half-eaten bodies of their former owners. Getting a sufficient amount of ammo was something else, and Cy ended up using two full clips of his own keeping the zombies away from Lisa until she too returned with her own scavenged bandolier. It had already been three-fifths full, but Lisa had filled both it and her side pouch with extra 30-round clips she had picked up whenever and wherever she had come across them. Lisa was also now wielding her new weapon, an M-16A1 military assault rifle identical to Cy's, with her own AK-47 slung over one shoulder and behind her. She promptly pulled out one of the spare M-16 clips from her new bandolier and handed it to Cy, who took it. "Thanks," he said.
"You're welcome," Lisa replied. She again hefted her new assault rifle. "Now let's go find that transmitter."
"Right with you," Cy said, as he swung around beside her, his own assault rifle at the ready.
The two of them ran for the Armory front doors. One was closed but it was neither locked nor pegged. The other lay on the ground nearby. It was covered in blood and its window glass was broken out. Some distance behind the door that remained up was a lone Guardsman zombie staggering about in the lobby beyond. It turned towards the two with a moan, reaching up and towards them with its arms and letting out a pitiful wail, just in time for Cy to blast it with a burst from his assault rifle. It spun around, gurgling and spitting blood, and then fell to the floor. It did not move again. After that Cy and Lisa were through the lobby and into the long hallway beyond.
Escape From Metro City Page 1
