The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Buried Instincts

by Henson, Lynn

  Fat man was going from parked car to parked car, trying the doors. Incredibly, a blue Chevy Avalanche wasn't locked and he got in, shutting the door behind him. His two comrades quickly got in as well, sealing themselves inside. Zombies completely surrounded the truck and groped at the people inside, impeded by the windows.

  Kyle slowed the car down. Blake immediately looked ahead to see what had happened. Ahead, the right side of the road was blocked by a big rig pulling two tankers. The cab door was open and about a dozen people squatted around the ground directly beneath it. Well, that's stupid. Why would the driver just get out when he's surrounded by contagious deranged people? Blake shook his head.

  The unfortunate side effect of the driver's incomprehensible decision to abandon his truck was that he completely blocked one side of the street. To continue further down meant they had to cross the divider and drive on the other side. Regrettably, this was the currently preferred option for foot traffic. Zombies were passing the truck using the left side of the road to continue their drive east, which didn't leave a whole lot of obvious options for their group.

  Blake took in what was laid out in front of him, the tanker with the feeding frenzy happening nearby, the Tuscany escapees trapped in a truck with more and more zombies completely surrounding it, the congested foot traffic that they couldn't possibly drive through, and the clusters of tall buildings that rose in the background, somehow muted by the activity in their immediate area.

  And suddenly it came to him.

  "Kyle," he said firmly, "Pull ahead of the other two cars and head for that stalled tanker."

  "What? Why?" he said taking a quick look back before returning his eyes to the road.

  "Please, just trust me on this," Blake said firmly again.

  Kyle looked at his brother who shrugged and nodded. Guess they don't have any better ideas.

  Kyle stepped on the gas and passed the minivan. Gao was driving, and he looked like someone had cut him off and hit his dog doing it. His hands flew up from the wheel and he mouthed "What the fuck?" at them followed by something else that Blake guessed wasn’t nice. When they passed the GT-S Bree looked at them as they went by as if they were crazy. Blake waved towards himself three times with his "come hither" gesture, trying to convince her to follow them. He pointed again at the tanker to reinforce the idea that he was deliberately heading that way. She gave it some gas and fell in behind them with the minivan following after.

  Kyle glanced back at him, "What do I do? We're running out of road and I don't think the left side of the road is drivable."

  "Just keep going," Blake said, trying to sound confident. "I'll let you know."

  Kyle continued to push onwards towards the tanker and the huddled feeding zombies. Blake leaned forward as far as his seatbelt would allow and looked for what he felt must be there.

  They got close enough to the feeding frenzy that they could make out a hand lying on the ground protruding out of the small cluster of zombies. It twitched and flopped about as meat was torn from the owner of the appendage.

  Blake tore his eyes away and he found what he was looking for.

  "Over there. Turn right," he commanded, pointing in the direction he'd said.

  Kyle nodded in understanding seeing a driveway with a couple of wooden gates that raised and lowered when the qualifying condition was satisfied. There were no zombies in that direction. He turned the SUV into the driveway and the other cars followed them.

  "What about the gates?" Carrey asked.

  "Fuck it," Kyle said and though he wasn't going terribly fast, he didn't slow down at all as the front of the SUV tapped the gate and he continued to apply enough gas to break the gate off with a wooden snap.

  The three cars rolled past the gate and down a small road that ran around the outside of what looked like apartment buildings. The gardeners for the complex had down a good job laying out the building exteriors Blake thought. There was enough greenery to give the area a relaxing effect and the structures were far enough away from the road to creating an illusion that the lot was a world unto itself.

  He took a glance out the rear window to reassure himself that they hadn't driven into another dimension. The broken gate lay to the side of where it was mounted, and the minivan had just cleared it, right behind the GT-S. A skinny guy with a buzzcut and his hands out in front of him like Frankenstein's monster lurched indecisively at the cars. A guy with glasses and dressed like he'd stepped right out of his cubicle in accounting bumped into the skinny guy but continued walking east.

  Blake looked forward again, scanning for threats and other reasons they might have to alter their already improvised route.

  Seeing none, the stress floating in the atmosphere of the car seemed to drop slightly and Kyle eased off the gas a little more. They were driving adjacent to luxury condominiums, the walkways had been generously decorated with ample, healthy looking plants and would have been well lit if the power wasn't out. This complex was undamaged in comparison to the rest of the city. What little there was sitting outside looked like it belonged here, and there was certainly none of the foot traffic that they'd seen on the street just a hundred odd feet away. Who lived here? What happened to them? Are they all spread out around the city somewhere surviving? Or hunting down those that hadn't yet been infected? Or maybe they're still inside, trapped. Maybe even watching us. As they slowly cruised by the front entrance of one of the buildings, Blake looked carefully into the front door and found that the darkness that resided beyond what the light could penetrate revealed no insights.

  "This is a lucky break," Carrey said uncertainly, "It seems like this detour you took us down isn't going to dead end."

  "Yeah. Lucky," he mumbled. But he didn't think luck had anything to do with it. Maybe I'm a genius. I must've seen the map of this area and my brain remembered this area that my conscious mind didn't pay any attention to. And because of the stress of the situation, a survival mechanism kicked in and the answer came to me. It's probably like when mothers lift Mack trucks off their babies in order to rescue them.

  As they were leaving the building next to them behind, a flicker of movement caught Blake's eye, drawing it up to the second floor of the building to a very ordinary window with a closed white curtain inside of it. If it was the curtain, it wasn't moving anymore. The wind? It's too quiet here, I'm starting to get jittery.

  There was a little more distance between buildings now as the left side opened up with a road leading to more centralized structures as well as allowing them to continue to drive straight ahead. Trees shaped like a child might have drawn them accented the corners of the lots the buildings were placed on with their slender trunks and perfectly spherical green leafy tops.

  More movement. Blake turned his head sharply to see what it was, though felt sheepish realizing it was probably just the wind that had made the leaves rustle. He glanced back at the GT-S in the back window to see if Bree was getting annoyed at the reduced speed when a sudden metallic thwomp sounded above his head.

  Everyone in the car jumped and Blake looked up at the roof of the car. Kyle was taking glances as well but kept looking forward to make sure he didn't run the car into anything. Carrey looked at the ceiling with a kind of dread. It sounded like something was rapidly scratching on the roof of the car, trying to claw through the metal. Blake continued to stare at the ceiling, wondering what to do.

  "Hit the brakes, Kyle!" Carrey said suddenly.

  Kyle reacted immediately, slamming his foot on the brake pedal as far as it would go. The scratching increased in speed and moved forward towards the front of the car as the car ground to halt. An orange blob of fur slid down the windshield, hind legs splayed out trying to find purchase, front legs stretched towards the roof, trying to do the same. Orange feline eyes stared helplessly at them as it slid slowly down the front of the windshield with the same consistency of an egg that had been dashed upon a window. As the cat slid, the forward paws would lash out intermittently in a vain attempt
to arrest its momentum.

  Blake pushed open his door and with a quick push of a button, freed himself from his seatbelt and placed a foot outside.

  "Wait! What are you doing?" Carrey asked, turning around to look at Blake.

  "I'm going to get that cat," Blake replied, foot still outside.

  "What if it's infected?" Carrey protested. "You can't just let it in. You could be putting us in danger."

  "Looks like a normal cat to me," Blake countered.

  The cat slid to the bottom of the windshield and scrabbled around frantically trying to regain its footing. Kyle guffawed at the feline's struggling.

  "That's a stupid and unnecessary risk," Carrey said firmly. "For all we know, cats could be the cause of all this."

  "Cats? Please..." Blake argued.

  "Ever heard of bird flu? Or maybe swine flu?"

  "Look at him," Blake said gesturing at the cat who was now sitting on the hood and licking his fur back into place. At the gesture, the cat froze and looked into the car with its orange eyes. His face was a patchwork of orange and white fur. His tail stood up rigidly behind him and twitched once. "He doesn't exactly look like he's a flesh-eating monster."

  "That's not even my point," Carrey replied, exasperated. "Maybe if it breathes on you, you'll start trying to eat us. Maybe not. But until we know more about whatever's happening, it'd be dumb to let that cat in here."

  Blake considered this and the cat got up and stretched on all four legs, arching his back like one of those black cats you see on a witch's broom when Halloween rolls around and the decorations go up. Then he reared back while leaving his front paws forward and stretched again. He stood, looked inside the car again for three seconds then walked calmly to the right edge of the hood. He leaned his head down towards the ground and then jumped down out of view.

  "Well, that's settled then," Carrey said, relieved. "Let's go."

  Blake pulled his leg into the car and as he did, the cat jumped in after it and sat on the floor, looking up calmly into Blake's eyes.

  Blake shut the door, not taking his eyes off the cat. The cat held his gaze for several seconds and then calmly lay down, tucking his chin neatly on his front paws, tail twitching lazily from side to side.

  Kyle resumed driving forward and a little bit of that tension returned as they kept watch for threats. Blake split his attention between the outside and the cat. Outside, they'd passed the road that led to the central part of the complex and were proceeding further north, away from the busy street they'd escaped from. It was unnaturally calm which was in stark contrast to five minutes ago. The cat remained eerily silent, only staring straight forward and blinking sleepily. Its eyes would glance at Blake from time to time but kept quiet. It’s almost like the cat knows that the twins would throw him out if they knew he was in here.

  The group finally coasted past the last silent building and were approaching a gate that separated the lifeless complex from the city streets. Kyle looked over at Carrey who responded by shrugging. Kyle gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands and nudged the accelerator a little bit.

  The SUV lurched forward and made contact with the wooden bar. The bar bent, warped, and snapped off, sending a spray of splinters and dust into the air as it clattered to the ground. Kyle eased out onto the street and Blake felt the uneasy watchfulness turn into a more oppressive feeling as they re-entered their current reality.

  On this street, the situation was a lot better than the one they'd detoured from. There were people, but not as many. There was a lot of room to maneuver again and the GT-S aggressively passed their SUV and assumed the front position, accelerating rapidly. Kyle exhaled, clearly relieved that he didn't have to be on point anymore. Bree once again guided the two cars behind her with extreme care, giving the zombies a wide berth.

  "I wonder why this street doesn't have as many as the one we came from," Blake said, soliciting discussion.

  Carrey turned his head slightly to the left to respond, "Maybe they're like ants. You know how they follow the same path because they mark the ground with some kind of scent? Or maybe it's just that they prefer to travel in groups."

  "There might be something to that," Blake agreed.

  "Or maybe they just saw the smoke from the fire at the university and all just started moving towards it," Kyle said. "They just happened to have already been congregating on the street on the strip and just started moving east."

  Blake thought for a moment and nodded, "I think that might be the simplest explanation. But you can't rule out what Carrey said either."

  "All we can do is speculate," Carrey pointed out. "If this situation doesn't end soon, then it might be possible to gather more data and definitively determine how people who have been affected by the infection behave."

  "Fuck that. I just want someplace safe to ride this shit out," Kyle said, turning the wheel slightly to follow the GT-S through a gap between five Indian women wearing silk Sari, the fine silk marred by dark red stains around the neck and shoulder areas, and a pair of women wearing brown housekeeping uniforms that had telltale wounds on their calves and upper arms.

  "It's not looking good right now," Blake replied, "I wonder if any major cities have managed to maintain control."

  "It's impossible to say," Carrey said. "Even assuming some city managed to keep things from getting out of hand, it might be weeks before they're even in a position to help anyone else."

  "Even worse," he continued, "It's impossible to know how much of the world has been affected by this. Without power, communications are out. Unless you have something like a satellite phone and someone still capable of picking up your call, most of the general public is going to be in the dark until a military group or maybe a well-organized corporation can set up some kind of sanctuary."

  "Hearing you say that makes me think that there must be some place that has their shit together. Country’s just too big, right?" Kyle affirmed.

  "I think so too," Carrey agreed. "And they'd probably be in contact with anyone who has still managed to maintain order. Maybe there are cities where the outbreak hasn't even happened."

  "That would be great," Blake replied, sitting back. He peeked down at the orange tabby who seemed to be looking at nothing in particular, then turned his head up to look briefly at Blake, blinked, and resumed looking lazily at nothing else in particular.

  thirty-four

  Blake started awake, looking around in confusion. The car was off and still and he was in utter darkness. "Carrey?" he called out, pulling himself forward.

  The front seats were empty. He looked out the windows and at least managed to find the GT-S's rear lights glowing red in the forward windshield. A quick glance back revealed what was probably the mini van's parking lights. So at least we're all together. Where the fuck are we and why did we stop? Do I get out and see what's what? He took a glance down and saw a fuzzy form on the floor, curled up, apparently dead to the world. He poked at it with his foot and got an annoyed swat for his concern. Satisfied, he peered out the windshield again, trying to build up enough resolve to go outside when the front and side passenger doors opened and the twins got back in the car. Carrey was in the driver's seat this time. He glanced back at Blake, "You're awake? How are you feeling?"

  Blake thought about this, "I still feel like I was run over by a steamroller, but I think I'm better now that I've napped," he decided. "Is everything ok? Why'd we stop?"

  "Oh, we just needed to change drivers," Carrey told him. "The hard part was trying to let Bree know that we needed to swap. We've been driving pretty hard since leaving Las Vegas."

  "Yeah, where are we anyway?" he asked as Carrey turned on the engine and shifted into drive.

  Carrey checked the blind spot and started accelerating after Bree's already receding tail lights. "Somewhere on the 95. We should be coming up on a town or something called Indian Springs. With all the chaos and zombies running around Vegas it took us another hour to get to the highway, but since then it's bee
n really dull. We got Bree to stop so we could rotate drivers."

  "It's exhausting driving like this," Kyle said, yawning as he did. "There’s almost no cars, but you're always on the lookout for something that you're going to crash into. There were a few people walking in the middle of the fucking highway that gave me a fucking heart attack, but now that it's dark, you've got to be especially careful."

  "I was scared out of my mind on the way to Vegas," Blake confessed. "Bree doesn't drive like anyone I've seen, but if you follow her I think we'll be fine."

  "She's a nut. But she's kept us in good shape so far," Kyle admitted.

  Carrey gave the car more gas. Blake looked forward out the window and saw the GT-S starting to recede. Carrey grunted and pushed the car more. Kyle snorted and leaned his head onto the passenger side window.

  Blake sat back, body still sore but not feeling the need to sleep just yet. He stared out the front window, looking at the road which went on and on surrounded by desert. The darkness made the world seem like nothing existed beyond two feet of the car.

  They passed a vehicle going in the opposite direction from them. It was flashing its lights at them and slowed down, but Bree maintained her speed, careful to give them a wide berth. The vehicle which turned out to be an RV slowed down further as it passed by Blake's car and the driver had his arm out the window flapping his hand up and down out at them. Carrey followed Bree's lead though and ignored the driver. As they passed, the lights from the final car in their caravan hit the top of a small face in the back seat peering out the window at them, eyes wide as saucers.