[ARCHIVED THREAD] - Humanity's Will (47 on 04/08/14) (Page 1 of 10)
Posted: 11/4/2012 2:08:26 AM EDT
I got bored and figured I'd give a try at writing some zombie like fiction to pass some time. It's not properly edited and still shows some of my writing programs format, but I'll clean it up should it continue. Let me know what you think and go easy on me! 
***A castle stands on a broke horizon. A world where no one lives, but no one dies in.*** # Chapter 1. December 12th was the beginning of the largest shit sandwhich life could feed me. It was the day I got laid off earlier than expected. I had little luck obtaining new employment and the company I had worked for had promised us employment until the first of the year. That fell through. I was furious seeing as Christmas was coming up and this guaranteed I would surely have a holiday worthy of suicide. I was a manager at a gas station and they were being bought out. 28 years old with a good head on my shoulders, but due to my rough ways as a youth, I pretty much fucked myself out of anything that would lead to an optimal career. Instead I lived check to check, spending what extra money I had on firearms and video games. The good life, right? I wasn't incredibly out of shape, weighing 205 at 6 feet even. I had that odd mix of pudge and muscle but due to my violent and poorly thought out youth, I was still very capable of holding my own. My temper was nothing compared to what it used to be, and I wondered if my testosterone levels had dropped, or if just being shit on in life had worn me down to the point of no longer giving a fuck. My family died when I was young, my girlfriend left me months ago, and now I was jobless. Heh, maybe the December doomsday would mean freedom from it all. Having lost so many friends to suicide, I could never go out on my own terms though. Odd for an agnostic man like myself, but maybe it was just that instinct to live. Maybe it was that gut feeling that I had a specific purpose that I could never find. Or maybe it was all the acid I ate when I was a kid just fucking with my noggin **Instinct, I like that.** Yeah, that's what we'll call this. After all, even with our advanced intelligence compared to other life forms, we were still the exact same. You're born, you feed, you fuck, you die. Everything in nature followed this path and we were no different. Well, at least I somewhat believe that. I know all to well what a soul is now. God or not, humans with no moral compass or advanced thought process are a very treacherous thing. Maybe that was what made it worse for us though....... December 18th, 2012. I had about $60 left in my bank after paying bills with no checks to come anytime soon. The economy was absolute dogshit and "management experience" meant nothing this day and age. I was considering pawning my last gun. It was my most expensive, but my favorite too. A custom built AR15 with a mix of high dollar parts and a metric shit ton of magazines and ammo to go with it. I had well over $2500 in the rifle alone, and the highest estimate I was offered from the local pawn shop con men was $1500 including the 40 PMAG's to go with it. I had accumulated 3,600 rounds of M855 ammo, to which the pawn shop did not want at all. As I played some Battlefield on my Xbox 360 in my low rate one bedroom apartment, I debated on selling my 42" HDTV too. Tax season and all that coming up meant I might be able to hold out just a little longer until I got back on my feet. I was just glad I didn't have the stomach bug going around yet. There had been reports of it being mutated mad cow disease, bird flu, and all other kinds of horseshit. The doomsday supposedly drew near and I figured people were just being hypochondriacs. On the other hand I was glad I didn't have to leave for much as it seemed everyone was sick if you took the social media sites into account. I didn't have cable TV, but with the internet it wasn't missed. I hadn't left the apartment in 3 days except for once to go grab some smokes. I decided to rub one out to my former girlfriend who suddenly took over my spank bank when we split, enjoy one more cigarette, then drift off to sleep. I was actually tired, likely from lacking proper sleep the past week due to stress. Fuck it, lights out. I awoke to a ruckus. Across the hall lived a skinny short African American male who seemed to be my age and his obese 20 year old white girlfriend. I only knew she was 20 because she asked me to buy her alcohol once. I declined her because I despised her. She had random guys over when her main squeeze was out and constantly stared at me like she wanted to keep my cock in her purse to nibble on. Fat slut. Today was different though. Normally both of them yelled, but this time it was her screaming obscenities. She sounded distraught and their front door was obviously open, so I strategically crept to my door to observe with out stepping on any creaking spots of my slum apartment floor. I heard a loud thud but couldn't see anything through my peep hole aside from their open door and obviously trashed apartment. The yelling and rustling stopped and I felt a chill. At the exact same time the main squeeze emerged from the apartment. He looked like he had blood on his hands and my chill seemed to deepen. He came out and began to pace about the hallway frantically panting and angry, yet stopping to cry every few seconds. I was so frozen in confusion that I about jumped through the ceiling when my phone went off. The way I was standing to view the scene through the peep hole had left my phone in my pocket against the door handle, and being on silent made it sound like a lawn mower starting. It was a text so the vibrations stopped pretty quick, but lasted long enough to alert old main squeeze. He slowly approached the door, shirtless and obviously bloody. He cocked his head to the side yet extended it forward in a twitching motion and held his nose up like he was smelling. He looked at the peep hole and I noticed the whites of his eyes were solid red. He sat there sniffing, looking up and down the door almost like he expected there to be an opening. His red eyes were creepier than hell, and I figured he must be on some crazy shit to have blown all the vessels out. There had been a few zombie like stories over the past year, and this guy certainly had the look of a face eater. He turned around and slowly began to walk back towards the apartment so I sighed a breath of relief and looked down at the floor. WHAM! I was caught so off guard I almost fell over backwards. WHAM! A gruesome scream of rage ear splitting loud erupted from the other side of the door, then WHAM, he hit it again. Thoroughly creeped the fuck out I ran back to my room and grabbed my loaded AR from it's normal residence between my bed and nightstand. CRACK! I realized at that point the door was giving. How in the name of fuck was this little crackhead guy busting through my solid wood door! What the fuck is going on! Was he a fucking zombie! Holy fucking shit! My mind raced and I was panicing. I fumbled to make sure my AR15 was loaded, then I quadruple checked that my safety was off. I heard another crack followed by the sound of the locks being turned. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. *"I'll fucking shoot you if you don't get the fuck out now!"* I screamed. *"Rahhhhh"* in a high pitched scream was all I got back for an answer just before I heard the door come crashing open. As freaked out as I was, I stood ready to put him down towards the end of my hallway. I had planned on giving him one more warning, but he covered the time from my door straight down the hall at me too fast. I looked through my miniature red dot and duh, forgot to turn it on. Too late and too close anyways, so I pumped two rounds in his chest. His stride alone propelled him to an air born fall about five feet in front of me. The split second look on his face as he fell made it seem his fight was now gone. Not wanting to be zombie food I backed up and stood there for about 15 minutes with the muzzle on him shaking like I was having a seizure. After the rush wore off I realized he was dead. Not undead, but dead, dead. I put my foot on his neck just in case and bent down and verified my thoughts as he had no pulse. I rolled him over with my foot and his bright red eyes showed the same look as when he went down. I think he died before his body ever made contact with my floor. I felt sad upon observing the look now forever frozen on his lifeless face. One entry wound was right smack dab at that little pit at the bottom of the sternum, and the other about two inches up and right. I debated putting one in his head for safety's sake. I'm thinking a Zombieland double tap, but I instead opt for locking my bedroom door and getting my phone out to call 911. As I pulled my phone out, I read the text from my buddy Scott. The text was *"u still got guns? this shit is insain"*. I called 911 instead of responding to his teenage text grammar and quickly got through to an operator. She seemed paniced and when I told her I just had to kill my neighbor she just responded with *"Okay, you need to lock your doors and stay inside"*. I looked at my destroyed front door and avoided stating a sarcastic comment that she likely would not understand. I asked *"Can you send someone out"* to which she replied with stating the exact line about staying inside again, then hung up. "Fuck my life" I thought. As level headed as I am, I still couldn't escape the thought of a zombie apocalypse after I realized it was only 8:30 AM. I shut what was left of my door and proceeded to soak up the events of the morning. I felt like I was going to cry, then practically tripped over the dead man in my hall as I rushed to my bathroom to puke my brains out. I cleaned up quickly and stepped back in the hall and headed to my bedroom. I recognized the sound of sirens in the distance, not knowing how long their sound had filled my ear drums with out me noticing. Both the quick whines of police cars and the slower of Omaha's emergency response vehicles. I felt relieved hearing them in the distance, surprisingly not even worried about the ramifications of having killed a man, self defense or not. That relief quickly faded as I realized the sirens were coming from both directions, but were continuing past my complex. Fuck. I tried to call 911 again but got a message stating that all operators are busy. I got my phone out and pulled up the local news channel's website. The front page headline was ***"Chaos erupts!"***. Cheesy fuckers. The news had no information about what was going on, other than the hospitals were over flowing with incredibly sick, yet violent people of all ages. I was amazed the news reports focused more on telling people to stay inside and to avoid contact with those that seem to show symptoms. I expected much more fear mongering and talk of the apocalypse, but even the national news stated the same. When I saw the map titled "Outbreak 2012" on PNN I admit I got scared. The headline had changed when I went back on my browser to an article of words that would be more significant than any other words in humanity's history. Possibly the last public words of an American President..... |
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# CHAPTER 2
*"PNN News A stomach flu that has struck many across the country has now shown to be much more significant than medical professionals had previously thought. All across the nation reports of violently ill people attacking others, committing suicide, and engaging in acts of generally erratic behavior are increasing by the hour. It has now become severe enough that President Barack Obama had an emergency press conference just moments ago, in which he had this to say.* "My fellow Americans, it is with great sorrow that I speak of the tragedy before us. We as a country have always shown a superior ability to adapt and over come, and this time will be no different. The CDC confirmed last night at 11:00 PM that a food born illness they have named AE72 has struck the American people. This virus is like none before it, in that it removes the brain's ability to absorb seratonin, and drastically increases activity in the adrenal gland. We don't yet know it's level of contagiousness, but it appears to have a two week incubation period of breaking down the immune system before fully attacking the host. Please remain calm and simply avoid contact with anyone known to be infected. Please stay indoors and do not panic. Local emergency response teams are working at full power to assist those with the virus, and the CDC and Federal Government are funneling all known resources into finding a way to erradicate it. I, uh, will be holding another press conference later this evening at which I hope to have much more information on the virus available, as well as a strategy to over come the challenge before us. The CDC has already made great strides in researching the virus, and should be making an announcement with in the hour. Again, please stay in your homes and avoid anyone appearing to show symptoms of AE72. Stay close to your loved ones and be safe. God speed America, god speed." *Through out the conference President Obama looked to the floor and appeared visibly shaken. He quickly left with out answering any questions. Vice President Biden was not present, and rumors are circulating that he was admitted to an unknown hospital in the nation's capital early this morning. This is it."* What the fuck was all I could think. I literally read the last line of the news article wondering how it got published, if it was a joke, or am I just having a nightmare. "This is it"? I read it at least 40 times to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. Maybe I was reading too far into it but the gut feeling I had did not pass. As I was reading the article again my phone blacked out showing a picture of Scott's dumbass, asking me to answer or decline. I stared at my phone blankly, needing a moment to comprehend that I needed to answer. Scott was a long time buddy and generally a good guy. Well, aside from when he was drunk. After what I just encountered though, I'd take on 10 drunk Scotts as opposed to one 5' 6" 135 pound maniac neighbor. Regathering my thoughts I answered. Scott: *"Doug, you there?"* Me: *"I just killed my neighbor."* Scott: *"Holy shit man. This is out of control. It sounds like a war outside and my neighbor is eating his dog in the hallway. Wait, was it the crackhead across the hall you killed?"* Me: *"Yeah. He went fucking crazy. It's like god damned movie. Did you hear it's this stomach bug going around causing it?"* Scott: *"Fuck you dude. I'm freaking out and don't fuck with me like that."* Me: *"Scott, you got the news on TV?"* Scott didn't say anything as I heard the TV flip on in the background. I could barely hear the speech just given by the president playing in the background. I lit a cigarette realizing Scott must be sick, pondering what I should do or say. At that point I wondered how contagious it was. Did Scott have it? Do I have it? Did I just catch it from dead main squeeze guy in the hallway? I barely heard the president's speech get cut off by a female reporter. Scott said *"Oh shit"* and I yelled at him to place it on speaker so I could hear too. *"The virus has been traced back to meat by products used by the Mexico based meat supply company MML, a major supplier for many fast food companies through out The United States. The CDC is stating they have no evidence the virus is airborn yet, but that it will be weeks before testing supplies conclusive results. It appears upon ingestion of infected food the virus mutates in the human body over 1 - 3 weeks into AE72 showing only stomach flu like symptoms before final progression. They did verify that the evolved AE72 virus is transmittable through the blood, saliva, waste, and sexual intercourse without the incubation period. At this time they have not defined a time estimate on direct interaction with the virus. Many of those infected with the virus appear to assault their victims ruthlessly, and many leaders are already calling for Martial Law. Officials are stating that anyone infected with AE72 should be avoided at all costs and...."* With out me asking, Scott said the reporter paused and put her hand to her ear for a few moments. *"We've just received reports that thousands of people have been trapped on the expressways out of New York City in attempts to flee the infected. Travel has stopped due to traffic jams and PNN is on site."* Scott: *"Holy fuck."* Me: *"What the fuck is happening?"* I had to ask a few more times before he replied many minutes later. Scott: *"It's a helicopter view of thousands of cars. People are everywhere. Running, fighting...."* Scott was interrupted by the camera man yelling out *"Oh my fucking god! They're eating her. They're fucking eating her!"* Again I had to ask him what was going on multiple times to draw a response out of him. Scott: *"They're, they're... They're zoomed in on a group of about 20 people. Most of them are fighting, but some of them are eating a little girl. Oh my god man. No. They're eat......"* Scott sounded like he was going to cry trying to spit the words out when my phone went dead. I hadn't realized how much time had passed, and my wall clock said it was 10:47 AM. I reached over and plugged my phone in to it's charger and was just about to turn it back on when I heard incredibly loud and frustrated crying coming from the apartment building hallway. "Shit" I said to myself aloud. This was freaking me out, and now was the time to equip all that combat gear I felt like a douchebag for buying. Even under the circumstances I felt like a raging idiot equipping my knife in a drop leg holster and a chest rig capable of holding 12 spare magazines. What embarassment I felt was quickly offset by what sounded like a gun fight a few apartment buildings down. Sirens were still racing around everywhere, and I could only imagine how many people were at work not knowing what was going on. How many were trying to flee the city? How many people had went into hibernation like myself and been oblivious to what was happening? Hell, if it weren't for my neighbor trying to kill me, I'd still be oblivious as to what was happening and likely snoring away in bed. As I sat there with my rifle in hand on the verge of already having my heart explode from panic, a woman screamed at my front door. This was no ordinaire scream, not that such a thing exists, but it was so animalistic it chilled me to the bone. Fuck this! I could vaguely see her face including her bright red eyes through the hole her now deceased boyfriend had made in my door. I could also hear her disgruntled panting and knew it was only a matter of moments before we were actually face to face. I've made cracks about blowjobs from fat hungry girls before, but something tells me she wasn't looking for pleasure this time. Did I say Fuck my life yet? I apparently have a mandatory date with the fat girl from across the hall. Here goes nothing! |
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I changed the name if you couldn't tell. I think this is a little less generic. Please let me know what you think. The chapter after this might be a bit too controversial and I'm reluctant to post it if no one's really reading it or not enjoying it. It's going to pick up fast so leave me some feedback!
# Chapter 3 Before I could reach the door she was gone. I heard repeating loud thumps at the split level stairs to the right that lead up to my third floor apartment. Her boyfriend had put a big enough hole in my door about a foot above the handle, so I looked out of it at an angle making sure to keep my distance. I watched as she repeatedly punched the thick window looking out over the parking lot. I knew there was no way she could break it but to my surprise she was mumbling what seemed to be gibberish. I stepped out with my rifle aimed at her. I knew it was only a matter of time before she refocused her attention on me anyways, and the stairs and distance gave me an advantage. Not to mention main squeeze's corpse smelled like puke and shit, and I didn't want to welcome more blood and decay into my home. I yelled "Hey!" at her and she ignored me. She kept punching with a ferocity that made me think this woman would Mike Tyson the shit out of me with no effort. Just as I pondered how a short fat almost teenage girl could show enough strength to kill me, the crash of the window breaking snapped me out of it. As the glass fell, I noticed she had a huge gash appear on her right arm. It ran from her knuckle all the way up to her elbow and I thought I could see the bone. At that point she turned to look at me and I realized her face was beaten to the point it looked like ground beef. She slowly edged up the stairs towards me sobbing from her blood red swollen eyes. I adjusted to get ready to shoot but she stopped about half way up and turned around. As she let out a crying growl, she went into a full force run and jumped straight out of the window. I heard a thud and breaking glass immediately followed by a car alarm. I walked down to the window to look out, and she was still laying right where she had belly flopped on top of a car. She was still alive apparently, not making sounds but breathing incredibly heavy. A car went speeding by, bottoming out severely on the speed bump with out having seemed to care. A few seconds later a man came running up and slowed to a stop as the car escaped the complex. He hunched over to catch his breath, then turned to look at the vehicle still making all of that noise. The man slowly rounded the vehicle and saw the woman laying there still breathing heavy. If you've ever knocked someone out, you would recognize this as the body going into standby mode after head injury. The man looking her over seemed to be in his early 20's with hair so long I couldn't see his eyes. I wondered if he was infected, but that moment passed when he let out a scream and seemed to start ripping out his own hair. The car alarm obviously multiplying his insanity, he grabbed my chunky neighbor's head and started slamming it into the roof of the car where her face had landed and made an indent. After a few slams blood started showing and she was obviously dead, but the man kept plowing her head into the roof while roaring with insane laughter. Another man with the same twitchy movements ran up and watched for a few moments with his head cocking from side to side. This man was obviously infected, as I could see his bright red eyes and blood soaked hands and clothes. After awhile, he turned and ran up the hill opposite of my apartment building and into the neighborhood. A large cold gust seemed to snap me out of my thoughtless observing of the chaos that just unfolded, and I moved away from the window so I wouldn't alert him, or any others around. For some reason the car alarm had stopped and the sirens, horns, and occasional gunshots in the distance were drowned out by the cold breeze whistling through where the window used to be. I decided to go back to the apartment and plan my escape. I could tell the majority of the sirens and horns in the distance were north of me. That fact was uneasing as just a few miles in that direction was the interstate. I considered the brief broadcast from New York I heard and decided the interstate would be a terrible choice. Instead I decided I would head southwest and find temporary refuge AWBFH (anywhere but fucking here). Luckily I had backed my black 2000 F150 FX4 four door truck in just a few spots down from the door. With the 2" lift it would be a little more of a pain to load up, but my tonneau cover meant what I did load would stay put if things did get rough. I also had a small toolbox attached to the truck's bed with varying tools that will likely come in handy. Surprisingly when I snuck down to unlock it and throw the sleeping bag and pillow in the backseat, I only saw four infected. Every single one was running south at a speed I could never sustain towards the interstate and the commotion. I knew that was going to get bad really fast so I ran back up to do inventory of what I would be taking with me. Hopefully this will go pretty easy, regardless of the fact I'm shaking in my shoes from stress and fear. I had multiple dry storage tins packed with as many loaded magazines as they would fit. I also had two almost full dry storage bins of loose ammo as well. Those obviously being priority. The tins of loaded magazines would be my passenger, with the loose ammo going in the back. I had more canned pasta than any person should, and it was going with me. Seriously, I had about 150 cans to wear me out carrying down. I also had tons of cup noodles. Obviously I may not have access to a microwave for a bit, but found you can dump boiling water in the cups. Let them sit for a few minutes, stir, and eat. My complex had water that tasted like sulfur, and left a slime like feeling after ingesting. As such, I had about 60 bottles of water. I did lose about 12 of which when the already opened plastic wrapped box gave out on one of the sides. Fuck it though. It happened right where my female neighbor's corpse rested, and I wasn't about to go crawling under cars for it anyways. I already had an extra toiletries bag in my truck. It had deodorant, shampoo, body wash, toothpaste and an extra toothbrush. It was leftover from when I'd go to my ex's place, but I had used it on a one night stand a few weeks ago and it was still good. I took it inside and loaded my doubles of the same supplies from my bathroom, as well as some rubbing alcohol, bandages, a couple rolls of toilet paper, and some Q-tips. I took a moment to chuckle when I noticed the package said they were not to be used in the ear canal. Yeah, sure thing. Gosh, I'm such a rebel. After grabbing some spare clothes I came back up and patched the door real quick using shelving from my entertainment center. It was now 2:38 PM and the clock made me realize I almost forgot my phone. I had a car charger and a solar charger, granted I had never used it. I put on my black leather coat, took one last look at my apartment before locking the door and I was headed down to my truck. As I got to the truck I powered my phone on and noticed I had a voicemail. It was from Scott, and it said the following. *"Hey buddy, I'm hoping your phone died and everything is okay. Yeah, I'm infected. The news said direct contact with it from people in the final stages only takes a couple hours to take the body over. My stomach burns just like my blood, and my kidneys hurt. If you run into my family or anyone we know by chance tell them I love them. Drink a bottle for me when you get a chance and best of luck buddy. And I'll haunt your ass if you have a son and don't name it after me you fucker. You're a true friend."* He was obviously holding back tears as he spoke. I myself was not able to do so. Not only for his apparent loss, but my own fate as well. Were my friends all dead? The family I did have left? My former coworkers? Fuck. I was soaking it all in when there was no time for it, so I set my rifle in the passenger seat and reached for my keys. I tried dialing Scott one last time but got no answer. I started the truck after fumbling my keys into the ignition and headed towards the front entrance. As I rounded my building I saw that traffic was now backed up to my entrance so my exit was blocked. I drove around to the other side of the complex and chuckled. One drunken night I had actually driven through the public park to get home. The wide open park being the only thing separating my complex from a road that ran to an exit on the opposite side of the neighborhood, which surrounded my shitty little complex. After a little trip through the grass, some winding roads, and a couple turns I was heading straight south towards Bellevue. I was kind of creeped out when I realized there were no cars or people headed the same direction as myself. I was hoping they didn't know something I was oblivious to and continued on. I drove past a gas station that was pandamonium. Every pump had a vehicle at it, but no people. I could see inside of the store was a gore fest as I drove by. I couldn't help but stare as a lone man on the side of the gas station was dancing. He was going all out ballroom style as if he had a partner dancing with him. Oddly enough I only saw blood on his face, but it was enough to make me wonder if he could even see. What the fuck is this? As I neared the top of the hill a little bit past the gas station, I stopped and took a look backwards having a good view for the first time. Traffic was so backed up I couldn't believe it was real. Only a couple cars buzzed past me southward bound as I was stopped. I could see black smoke in many different directions, with two plumes to the east appearing so large that it looked like a mushroom cloud. Were the bridges over the river into Iowa gone? I was so caught up in it I didn't even notice the 12 year old or so boy coming up on me until he actually reached up and slammed his fist in to my window. I reached for the Busse Team Gemini strapped to my leg. Damn I wish I had my PPQ. While it scared the hell out of me, I realized the kid didn't have the strength to break the window. I noticed a couple infected quickly running towards me that did though. I figured I'd leave the kid to his own devices and stomped on the gas. The kid kept leaning into the truck and was quickly sucked into the rear tire. I'm not sure what part of him I ran over, but I can only assume the worst since he was laying their motionless in my rear view. I'm going to feel like a real fuck up if they cure this stuff. I dropped the hammer now and the only vehicles I saw were heading north to the interstate. I flicked my brights at them to try and warn every car I saw, but not a single one of them ever broke their pace. Maybe they couldn't see my lights as the sun was still up, but I got the feeling something was going really wrong southeast of here. I followed 72nd street until I hit 370, not seeing near as many cars as I anticipated, most of which were disabled from wrecks I had to navigate around. Last minute I decided heading straight west might be better. The lack of traffic was scaring the shit out of me. Last thing I want to do is end up sandwiched between a river and and a million possibly infected lunatics anyways. I needed a place to hide out and rest. On top of that I was starving. Just as I reached for my bag to grab some Spaghetti-O's it dawned on me I forgot a fucking can opener. *"Doug, you dumb son of a bitch"* I scolded out loud at myself. Just then my phone rang. |
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If people are enjoying it, I want to post a little bit about the story and the character development.
First, the character is very loosely based on myself and a few bad life events from my past are recent life events for our main character Doug. Our character is also not incredibly educated on deep survival issues, much as myself. So there may be times where his actions are iffy due to limited knowledge. Many of the events that will happen in the story may be offensive. Please don't judge me for them, as this is obviously fiction centered around a character who is doing his best to retain his humanity and survive some terrible worst case scenario events he's faced with. In no way am I assuming any person or entity would react this way in this scenario, and please remember this is fiction. At times through out the story it may seem slow or boring. This is intentional. A story about a guy with third degree burns on his hands from shooting from the first sentence of the story to the last is not what I'm after. I want to keep it as real as possible, and sometimes our character will have a taste of plain old fashioned normal uneventful life. Also, the fiction supplied in this thread may not be duplicated, copied, or used in general for any purpose with out my expressed consent. I'm not looking to make money, but I would be disheartened if someone used my material in attempt to do so, or claim it aw their own work. This is for fun, not business. Thanks! |
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# Chapter 4. The Fire Within.
I looked down at my phone seeing the picture of my ex Mindy. I debated not answering but reluctantly tapped the answer button. Me: "Hey Mindy." I was immediately replied to with sobbing instead of words. Mindy: "Doug, I just want to let you know how sorry I am. Life has been shit since I fucked things up and before I go, I just wanted you to know I love you and I've thought about you every day." Me: "Mindy, I...." My phone beeped as the line disconnected. I tried calling back but it went straight to voicemail. I left a message telling her to call me back no matter what. Realistically I knew it was the last time I would talk with her. I set my phone on the center console and chugged ahead. It stung, but false hope kept it from actually sinking in. It took me seeing it to realize the huge mistake I had made. I completely spaced the road I had turned on miles upon miles ago crossed the interstate into the southwestern part of town. I could see thousands of cars in the distance and I was seeing more and more activity on the road as I got closer. I pulled off to the shoulder about 3 miles away. I grabbed some cheap binoculars from a duffel bag I stored away in the box of the truck. As I walked back to the door a string of about 8 cars flew by at speeds probably approaching 100mph. Luckily this road was a ways out, so while the interstate was packed, there weren't many people trying to access it from here. What little traffic existed on the actual road was congested under the interstate overpass and seemed to be mostly police and emergency response funneling those who did exit to the west. I put the binocs to my face and could barely make out hundreds of people scurrying about outside of their vehicles. I couldn't see any signs of infection but there were multiple helicopters flying about, two of them obviously being military. I knew if I broke further south I could cross safely as there was a bridge with no exit ramps a few miles down. I just wondered if that area where I planned to cross was over ran with infected. I put the binoculars down just in time to hear a jet and see the first flash. Flames engulfed the horizon and the shockwave carried a thud to my chest even from this distance. Then BOOM! Another one further in the city a half mile or so from the first explosion. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of my lungs and my ears popped. The flames extended hundreds of feet into the air. I had no clue what the explosions were specifically, but I was sure hundreds if not thousands of people had just met their demise. Almost as if to mock me, another less concussive explosion erupted, with a massive fire suddenly connecting the two locations. This I was sure was napalm as the jets flew off. I heard gunfire in the distance behind me. I looked through the binoculars and saw about 12 Humvees heading my direction south down Highway 370. I was astonished when they pulled up next to a vehicle at a stop light and lit the unaware occupants up with automatic fire. My heart dropped as two of the other vehicles parked so as to block the cross intersection off. As a green minivan rolled to a stop now that his access to the intersection was blocked, the guy on top manning the M2 slaughtered the occupants with .50 caliber gunfire. The remaing 10 of the vehicles continued my direction and I realized it was time to get the fuck out of Dodge. I was at the last cross road before the interstate exits and turned left to head south as I had planned. The Humvees were making good time, and I couldn't crest the hill fast enough for them not to see me. The second vehicle in line lunged ahead and turned to follow me. I slowed and was partially considering pulling over when my back window exploded into a giant pile of glass shards. Multiple more bullets struck my truck, one piercing the windshield having obviously just missed the back of my head by inches. At this point I literally thought I was going to piss my pants. The only motor function I could comprehend was try to push my pedal all the way through my floor. The pavement ended and the road turned to gravel. Luckily my fat off road tires kept grip very well at 80mph and threw up a huge dust track which pretty much stopped the passenger from showering me with more bullets. I knew at these speeds there was just as much risk of crashing hard as slowing down and eating a lead sandwich. They were struggling to get beside me, but up ahead I saw salvation and a reason to slow down a little bit. There was a T intersection with a berm straight ahead. I needed to go right, and I was keeping just enough of a lead to dimminish their visibility. About 60 feet away I cranked the steering wheel and jammed on the brakes. I knew I risked rolling my truck, but even then these assholes had a fate that was guaranteed. The Humvee only hit the brakes about 20 feet from the berm. At the speed they were going it made no difference at all. They hit the berm almost straight on. The big vehicle launching forward in the air, but slowly rotating to the side enough to land straight on it's back in the field past the berm. I sat for a minutes contemplating how insane this was before hopping out with my rifle shouldered. I peaked over the berm with my rifle expecting myself to be subject to a volley of lead. I jumped the berm and realized one of the men was laying dead on the outside of the vehicle from being ejected. It seemed he was the driver. The man sitting behind the driver was definitely toast too. I could see he was impaled by something as I was circling the vehicle, but realized asking him was pointless. I circled around the front and could tell with out a doubt the front passenger was dead as well. Did these things not have seat belts? I guess considering the speed at which they hit it wouldn't make much difference. I heard a crack and grinding sound and realized the rear passenger was alive and trying to get out. The door flung open leading him to fall right out and he immediately flinched and plead "Don't shoot" as I stood with the muzzle pointed directly at his face. He slowly unholstered his handgun and threw it to my feet. I kicked it aside and asked "What in the fuck was that for!". Soldier: "We were ordered to clear an exit path with no compromises. Offutt is being over ran and we needed to make a back up plan in case Airforce 1 couldn't get off the ground." I sat shocked for a moment amazed that this was a Presidential affair. Soldier: "I didn't want to do it. They told us the entire city was over run but we realized it wasn't true. I wanted out. The other guys were out for blood. Even when it was obvious people weren't infected the whole patrol still killed them. Anyone they fucking saw." The soldier started sobbing and I could tell it was genuine. Me: "I'll let you live, but I need a favor. I need you to get me any guns, ammo, food or water that you have on hand that survived the crash." The radio crackled from inside the Humvee. I didn't show it, but my legs were shaking so bad I didn't even flinch when the voice broke on the radio asking for a status check. Soldier: "They'll be here soon if I don't answer." Me: "Tell them you're still in pursuit on an unknown road heading southeast and that you injured the driver." He did exactly as I said and who ever was in charge told him to abort and return as they were going hot again. He set the radio down and reached into the vehicle slowly as per my instructions. He made multiple trips back in to grab supplies. In the end he came back with the following. 3 M4A1 Carbines, two of which had suppressors. 1 damaged M16A4. 2 Beretta M9A1's both fitted with rail mounted lights. 1 Springfield marked 1911. 1 Sig 226 with a suppressor and pistol light. 4 holsters for the various handguns. 2 840 round cans of M855. 24 loaded GI magazines. 4 50 round boxes of 9mm ball. 14 loaded M9 magazines. 7 loaded 226 magazines. 5 loaded 1911 magazines. 8 bottles of water 6 MRE's of who knows what. I left a lot of it considering someone had just tried to murder me. I took two M4's with suppressors, 1 M9A1, 10 of the loaded M9 magazines, the silenced 226, all of the loaded 226 magazines, and all of the loose ammo. I also snagged the ACOG off the damaged M16A4 and the drop leg holster for the SIG. I left him the rest letting him know we were pretty close to the interstate and he might need it. I told him not to touch the guns or radio until I was out of sight as I walked away. When I quickly turned back around he flinched and frowned. Me: "Do you have a mother fucking can opener?" Soldier: "Haha, I thought you were going to shoot me, and yes I do. And don't worry, I'm going to snack on an MRE before I put the call in about the guy headed southeast. To be fair, I'm going to blame that part on you. Best of luck buddy and see you on the flip side." He tossed me an actual store bought can opener from his ruck sack and I nodded my head. The sun was going to go down soon and I needed to get the fuck out of here. I saw that one of my tail lights was shot out, and I realized it's probably best I don't have any at all and gave the other the same treatment with my newly acquired suppressed Sig. As I pulled off I realized I should have questioned him on the route they were clearing. These guys meant business and I truly think luck was on my side for some reason. I was freezing my nuts off now that the rush had worn off. Having no back window meant my heat did jack shit. "Poor truck" I said aloud, driving slowly towards my objective. |
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I found small parts of the story a little confusing. Still I do like the story, please continue. What specific parts? I need the feedback because one of the nearing chapters that explains how the virus works is a tough one to portray. If you could it would be much appreciated so I can adjust. Thanks! |
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Why would they have that many weapons in a single HMMWV, and why such a mix? A suppressed 226? Are they Navy SEALs? Four people, four rifles and sidearms. It's amidst an outbreak and possible collapse of civilization. Regarding branch of military, our character is under the assumption they are special forces of some kind. I went with this based on it was a military action for direct interaction and protection of the president. If I were president with control of the military and needed an escape plan involving force, I'd probably opt for some hardcore ass kickers myself. I might have another chapter up tonight. |
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Quoted:
Quoted:
Why would they have that many weapons in a single HMMWV, and why such a mix? A suppressed 226? Are they Navy SEALs? Four people, four rifles and sidearms. It's amidst an outbreak and possible collapse of civilization. Regarding branch of military, our character is under the assumption they are special forces of some kind. I went with this based on it was a military action for direct interaction and protection of the president. If I were president with control of the military and needed an escape plan involving force, I'd probably opt for some hardcore ass kickers myself. Alrighty then. |
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# Chapter 5 - First Impressions.
I felt terrible. I was responsible for their deaths, and they weren't infected. I listened and watched for choppers to appear and deal me my last card in life. I felt paranoid, and rightfully so. I hoped the smoke from the thousand vehicle BBQ kept them from pursuing me. I hoped the soldier I left didn't tell his superiors about my direction. I also really hoped he was able to make it back to them. On one hand I couldn't fathom the idea of the government killing thousands of people. On the other hand I realized just how many of those people were infected and would just spread infected chaos like wild fire. It's amazing how clear headed I remained, even with all the guilt and stress. When I was younger I would have just acted like an idiot and said fuck it all. Now just a few years away from what would have been my midlife crisis, I cared. I wanted to survive. I wanted everyone else to survive. The interstate was charred when I had passed it near dusk. The beeps of the emergency broadcast system coming through the radio in combination with my current environment scared the living shit out of me. The bridge I took over the interstate was stained black from such high temperature exposure and flames I worried for a moment it would collapse. With no back window, the toxic smoke and heat of hundreds of burning vehicles and bodies was inescapable. I saw no signs of breathing humanity, which was eery but confidence inspiring at the same time. I could still hear gunshots in the distance, probably back on Highway 370 where they had set up all the road blocks. The fear is different. It's not like finding out a family member died. It's not like fighting someone twice your size knowing you have no chance. In fact, before this day I'd say I had never felt fear before. I thought I had, but this was unrivaled in every aspect. I had passed Gretna about an hour and a half ago. I was back on a two lane paved road having gone an estimated 100 miles. Maybe it was being paranoid, but I kept the speed low to avoid any sudden surprises. My phone had lost all signals and I was lost. Lost was good though because anywhere familiar to me meant people were near. Where there are people, there's infection. I was beat down tired and my stomach growled from not eating. Up ahead I saw a brush filled tree line and decided it was time to stop. The tree line was about 250 yards from the road so I hoped the field was clear of unseen obstacles and that there was no one watching me. This was an excellent rest stop so long as I went unoticed and didn't fuck up my truck in the process. I pulled into the brush quite a bit to conceal my vehicle. No need to worry about the paint now. Fuckers. I grabbed two cans of Spaghetti-O's and greedily cracked the first one open. Fuck! I don't have a fork or a spoon. I guess one good thing about canned pasta is you can pretty much drink it straight from the can. I gobbled them both down and lit up a cigarette. I stared off into space and decided I would do inventory, some light gunsmithing, and repacking of supplies in the morning before I head out. As I finished my smoke I struggled to stay awake and quickly drifted off after flicking it out the window. I awoke to a semi engine braking off in the distance. Even in daylight there was no way he could see me, but I wondered who in their right mind is driving a trailerless big rig around with the country in shambles like this. My phone was still out of service, and all of the FM channels were still playing the same emergency broadcast system message from yesterday. I checked AM and actually got a hit. "And Jesus died for our sins, yet we still deny the hand of the lord. As such, GOD, is slowly picking our souls from our wasted bodies. NO ONE, can escape our lord's judgement. NO ONE can escape this retribution for their sins that have violated God's will for ages. Pray! Beg God for his forgiveness, for this truly is the rapture, and no one will survive in their physical form. Everyone you know is dead. Your family. Dead! Your friends. Dead! The politicians you looked to as providers. Dead! The actors and musicians who's work you knew better than God's. Dead!" I turned the radio off. Organized religion creeped me out sometimes and that guy sounded batshit crazy. Just his voice alone sent chills down my spine and I still get the feeling if I had a soul, that priest would be the one to taint it. As I looked out behind me I saw a view that reminded me how bad this was. I couldn't see Omaha, but I could see the smoke. The city was burning. Considering how far away I was, the magnitude of damage required to make such a plume made me want to throw up. I got out one of the M4's and my rifle. As luck would have it, that short barreled rifle permit paid off and my 11.5" upper receiver would be perfect for plopping on the full automatic M4 lower. I had a BCM 11.5" upper with a 10" Centurion rail system and a Vortex flash hider. All I had to do was swap my Magpul STR stock and MOE+ grip over to the M4 lower. I also had to swap my Vortex muzzle device out for the AAC Blackout flash hider from the M4 so I could use it's suppressor too. I placed the 4X ACOG on top of the rifle, which had a green horseshoe reticle. While I just wanted specific parts from the combined rifles, I didn't think the soldier I encountered would appreciate me playing Legos with the equipment I just stole from him, and leaving him the scrap to explain. Being a big enough gun geek to worry some of my friend's and family, this gun was now like a dream come true. Well, up until I remembered the terrible way in which I obtained it. I chose the specific location for the cover, but also the fact I could get a good improvised shooting range. I guessed a 100 yard distance and hung a piece of paper up on a tree with a dot drawn in the middle. Something tells me the bill collector's who donated the paper would no longer mind me disregarding it. I had my Surefire EP4 hearing protection in for most of yesterday, so being able to shoot with out it jammed in my ear drums was, well, music to my ears. I was worried the scope may be damaged like the rifle it came from, but with just 7 rounds I was smack dab on target. I finished out the magazine to make sure it was holding zero. I tossed the upper from the M4 on my old semi auto lower, and zeroed the Aimpoint T1 I previously had on. It was taking too long so I called it good when I got with in a couple inches. That cold breeze seems to have a way of bringing me back to reality, this time by blowing my target around and spoiling my fun. Next was ammo. All I know was I had thousands upon thousands of rounds of 5.56. I managed to consolidate the loose ammo in to three tins. For a moment I stopped to soak in the fact I had killed five people and only used a couple bullets. I killed five people. Shit. I can't imagine where I'd be had I waited even another 15 minutes to leave my old apartment. Had I tried to ride it out in the city I'd surely be toast too. I was glad to be alive but really felt bad about having killed those people. When you think of a zombie outbreak, you're killing people who are already dead. These people were alive though. They had people hoping to see them again. Once again I was haunted by the face on the first guy I killed right after I shot him. It was like his humanity returned just before he died and was grief stricken. Then the kid. The kid was old enough to be my son. Fucking dead. Fuck. I couldn't think like this. Too late. It was as if every friend and family member of the people I had killed combined their grief and forced it to be mine. I might have been able to outrun the soldiers. I could have shot my neighbor in the leg and locked him in a closet. Had I paid attention or not stopped, that kid never would have came to the street. Who knows, maybe the body will fight the virus off and heal. Maybe they'll find the cure. Maybe I'm just a murderer who doesn't deserve to live. Fuck repacking, I need to get moving and free my mind of my own guilt. First I need to put that TP I brought to good use and freshen up. I drove for about an hour before I realized I was getting low on gas. I pulled into a gas station that was functional, but void of any people. Lucky for me the pumps were still on for card use. Hooray for not having overdraft protection! I filled it up with premium, constantly patroling around the vehicle with my rifle slung at ready. As the pump clicked from the tank topping off, I saw a Crown Victoria in the distance speeding towards me. I dropped my rifle to a non offensive position as he pulled up considerably close to where I stood. The markings on the side read "Polk County Sheriff's Department". He looked me over for a bit before rolling down his window. I was suddenly struck with fear that the military I had encountered yesterday may have put an APB out on me. Officer: "You infected?" Me: "No sir. Just trying to get as far away as possible from those that are." Officer: "Where you from son?" Me: "Omaha." Officer: "You must be one lucky son of a bitch. After Offutt was over ran the military pretty much burned the whole city to the ground. All roads out were mostly destroyed and they're saying New York and Omaha were wiped off the map." I had to take a minute to soak up what he was saying. I knew if I spoke now I'd choke up. I think he realized his comments stung, and he looked down at his door for a couple moments with a morbid look on his face. After a bit of time to bury my thoughts I picked up the conversation like my pitiful reaction never happened. Me: "Yeah, I've been lucky so far. How are things out here? Is there anywhere civilized around?" Officer: "There's a small town of about 3,000 about 15 miles west on Highway 29 called Hahnsburg. I'm not sure how willing to accept outsiders they are, but they're good people none the less. They even have an escapee from the President's research team that has a good bit of information. A pretty little thing that's as intimidating as hell. You don't exactly scream friendly, so if you do head that way be easy. Let them know Sheriff Leon sent you, but remeber they don't put up with funny stuff." Me: "I really appreciate it. I might give it a try and I'll heed your words, not that I have any funny left in me anyways." Officer Leon: "Well best of luck to you son. If you stick around there I'm sure our paths will cross again." He quickly took off before I could say anything else. I wondered what information they had. Did they have warm food? I looked over at the gas station and saw the rack of beef jerky and considered smashing the window out for a moment. Then I remembered my karma was already maxed out on bad, so I hopped in and drove off instead. As I approached town there was a roadblock of about 12 men armed with various firearms. Most were old hunting shotguns and rifles, but there were some AR15's and an SKS thrown in the mix. They had a schoolbus blocking both lanes in. I slowed and four of the men circled the vehicle while one walked up to speak to me. He asked if I had been bit, when was the last time I ate fast food, where I was from, if I had any symptoms of illness and lots of other simple yes or no questions. After the interrogation they pulled the bus forward which revealed a Humvee with an older gentlemen manning the M2 on top pointed straight at me. I was glad I shit before I left the treeline. The man I spoke with directed me to follow an old beat up Dodge truck to the county clinic so I could be examined for infection. The Humvee followed, with the barrel of the M2 fixated on me at every inch of the way. The town was small. They had a Pizza place, a bar/bowling alley, and a little diner looking place called "Big Roo's". I noticed a small truck stop as well as two other small gas stations, and a billboard every block for "Little Ford". Maybe I could get my window fixed. We turned off the main road and I could see the clinic. Caddy corner to it was the school, where most of the town's population seemed to be focused. As we pulled up to the clinic two men with M4's walked out and advised me to get out of the vehicle. They told me to leave any weapons I had in the truck and said everything I have will still be there when I get back. I knew declining that offer would mean bad times. I hadn't realized how heavy my loadout was until I took it off. As soon as I walked in the building I was pointed to a room straight to the left. When I walked in I realized it was a check in room that had been gutted. There was a large mesh glass window and on the other side sat an older obese man, a young soldier, and a late 20's petite redhead that was drop dead gorgeous. Of course the first thing she orders is for me to get naked. Damn. I was cold enough as is, and the confidence she somehow stole from me left me feeling like my frank and beans had rescended back inside of me. I stripped my clothes anyways. They had me turn in all directions and then the male doctor told me to put the gown in the corner on and go back to the same door I came in. Once there the soldier came out and placed wire ties on my wrists to restrain me. Normally this would have worried me, but if they were going to fuck with me they wouldn't have put this much detail into it. The soldier escorted me to a typical treatment room and told me to sit on the hospital style bed. I fucking hate medical facilities. The redhead came in and introduced herself as Sarah Jane. I stood up and said "Name is Doug Ripley, can we do the introduction before getting naked next time?" Thump! She popped me a light jab right in the left kidney. It caught me off guard, and I said "Shit, sorry. I could just use a laugh right no....". Thump, another jab this time to my right kidney. Sarah: "Sorry, but extreme swelling of the adrenal gland is an obvious sign of infection. That light jab would have brought even the most adrenaline overdosed infectee to their knees for a moment. You were asked to strip down to make sure you had no bites. Now I need a sample of your blood to verify and once cleared, you're free to take a tour of the town." She turned and swiftly left the room, leaving the pudgy man to draw a blood sample using a needle big enough to use as a turkey baster. After that they locked the door and left me with nothing but some stupid celebrity magazine, a pillow, a huge hole in my arm, and a glass of orange juice. Fuck me. |
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Had some things come up and haven't been able to write much. Hope no one has given up!
# Chapter 6 Creation of chaos. "It looks like you got out of Omaha just in time Mr. Ripley. We have some questions for you." I was still getting dressed when the skinny older feminine sounding man asked immediately after walking in. Sarah: "This is Mayor Little." Me: "Hello sir, thanks for having me." Mayor Little: "Don't thank me. Sarah decides who eats our bread, and who eats our bullets." The man said it laughingly which kind of bothered me as I knew that in all reality, he was serious. Wearing sky blue polyester slacks and a white and yellow striped polo shirt with the combination of that statement made me think he was an ex serial killer. Then I realized his name was on all those billboards in town too. A politician and car salesman, yuck. Mayor Little: "Sarah saved this town with out any doubt in my mind. Had she not shown up a few days before the outbreak in that Humvee, we would have had no way to know who was infected with AE72 nor had the proper weapons to fend off those who were." Mayor Little: "Sheriff says we might be able to help eachother out, so I have some questions. First, are the reports that the military were mass murdering civilians true?" Me: "Very much so. Containing the infection was an obvious strategy, but I watched them practice shooting anything that moved. In all honesty, I had a pretty bad firsthand experience with them myself." I realized I probably shouldn't have said anything, and looked to the floor. Mayor Little: "We know. We didn't take anything but we did do a screen of your vehicle and saw you had some equipment you surely couldn't have obtained elsewhere. I've been selling Fords for years and don't recall a swiss cheese model either son. You know the Vice President died from the infection right?" Me: "I had heard some rumors and assumed that." Mayor Little: "Well Sarah, our little savior here was an advisor appointed to the Obama Administration from the CDC. The Vice President was infected for two months before succumbing to the virus, so I'll let her fill you in on the real story. Sarah: "The virus is not naturally occurring. It was developed by my boss, Edward Thompkins. The virus was made to give the human mind complete control over the adrenal gland. What better soldier or assasin than one who has a switch to control adrenaline. No fear, incomprehensible speed and strength, and heightened senses. The problem with adrenaline is self control, or lack there of. They modifed it just a little bit to make the brain a little more sensitive to dopamine. This would cause the subject to maintain normal emotion, while still having unlimited immediate access to astrnomical amounts of adrenaline." She looked down at the floor and then back up into my eyes with a look of guilt that made even myself feel pity. Sarah: "Patient 01 and patient 02 experienced no negative effects. Everything worked as planned. Patient 02 was capable of an 8 minute mile with a peak speed of 17mph and chest pressing 220 pounds before. After AE68 drawn from patient 01 was injected and the mutation took place, patient 02 ran the mile in 4 minutes with a peak speed of 30 mph. The chest press was measured at 400 pounds. The results were amazing. No burned out feeling afterwards, no emotional rollercoaster, just one or two normal heavy breaths and they were back to normal. We don't know how it happened, but a doctor who helped in the testing got out with two vials of AE72, a failed strand that actually blocked the brain from absorbing seratonin, a key ingredient to normalilty in the brain's functioning. By the time he was caught fleeing Florida, the vials were already sold off to a source in Mexico. The people who purchased it sought a test subject, who ended up eating a man's face in Miami which you may have heard of. It was covered up, but the people who purchased the virus now realized they didn't get what they were promised. They wanted super soldiers for the Guiterrez Cartel. What they got was the single most efficient biological weapon in the world. Shortly after we lost all trace of them and the virus. Only now do we know they were experimenting. Experiments that we never even thought of. When the evolved virus is introduced directly to the bloodstream it's almost instant take over. When the base virus is introduced and left to evolve in the human body instead though, it gets scary. Instead of taking over the immune system, it bonds with it. In simpler terms, those who obtain the virus by carriers are taken by microbial war from an already mutated enemy. When the base virus is introduced it's more like a microbial marriage. With the immune and nervous systems otherwise welcoming the virus, it evolves entirely different in the host. While the physical enhancements are still present, they do retain more memory, intelligence, and immune system efficiciency. Regardless, they still succumb to the mentally disabling symptoms that make them go, and excuse my French, fucking insane." Me: "So the cartel poisoned food to cause all of this?" Sarah: "Unfortunately yes. The unevolved virus is very hard to trace. The Government covered it up as long as they could, but couldn't find the source until it was too late." Me: "So is there a cure?" Sarah: "We don't know. I had to leave the Air Force base as they were getting out of hand. The patient who possibly held the cure was murdered out of fear and ignorance. They knew he was the second test subject for AE68." Me: "What about the first?" Sarah: "Since the virus evolved inside their body the effects were much stronger just like with those poisoned with the base AE72. I came to work the day after incubation was complete and the subject was gone. All they told me was that I was no longer allowed access to that subject and that my research would continue on the current subject. That also meant I had no access to the base virus anymore either. It wasn't until I was chosen to head a research team at Offutt on the AE72 virus that I realized how significant the differences were. Private Fackler and I fled as the infected over whelmed a base full of soldiers who had seemed to have lost their humanity. We ended up here." Me: "Shit. That's a lot to take in." At this point the mayor positioned himself between us with an uneasy grin on his face. Mayor Little: "Well what say you and I head over to the diner for a nice steak dinner. It's going to be dark soon and I saw how beat up your truck is. You need shelter and I got a proposition for you." A steak sounded great, I was tired, and felt I owed him enough to hear him out for the information and verifying I wasn't infected, so I felt obliged. Me: "Sure, just as long as the steak didn't come from Mexico." We both chuckled and he cocked his head for me to follow which I did. As we walked out the soldier presented the mayor with a stainless 1911 type pistol in a brown leather holster. As we walked to his white Ford Excursion he looked at me like I was crazy. Mayor Little: "If you're going to ride in my vehicle there's one requirement. You gotta have more bullets than I do son." I smirked and ran back to my truck and grabbed my loadout. This guy might not be so bad after all. |
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# Chapter 7 - Things you can do
Mayor Little: "This town is lucky, but it won't be for long. The power will go out soon but believe it or not, freezing to death isn't my biggest fear. We're less than 200 miles from the metro area, and we've been lucky that you're only the 100th or so to show up, and only about the 10th to stay for longer than the drive through. Eventually this town's proximity to the bigger cities is going to backfire on us. Our preparation for our "exodus" so to speak was to use my cars to evacuate everyone safely." Little took a long sip of coffee while looking out the window as the worn out blonde rounded back to take our order. Waitress: "What can I get for you gentlemen?" Mayor Little: "We'll both have the Hahnsburg Special, medium rare please." I was taken by him being cocky enough to order for me, but the man knew how a steak should be cooked at least. Mayor Little: "Regarding our evacuation, I had planned on using all of my cars to evacuate everyone that wanted to go. Being such a small town, not many of the older folks even have vehicles, and let's just say a car dealership in a town of about 3,000 poor people didn't really sell much in the first place. So I was offering a brand new car to anyone in town needing it. A lot of people here don't understand the magnitude of what's going on, and I guess a free car might entice them to believe us. Sarah showing up before the full outbreak was a blessing, but some still think we're paranoid. With no TV showing what's really happening, some think it isn't that bad. We only had a handful of people who were sick, and we didn't exactly let the town in on their change in demeanor, we just strapped them into beds in the clinic or if bad enough sent them off in ambulances to a hospital about 50 miles from here. Let's rewind a bit though. When Sarah showed up and told us what was going on and how quickly things were going to go even further south, my first thought was to get everyone that could pull a trigger a gun and plan an evacuation. Well the Reed family owned the town gun shop, but much like my dealership, they didn't move much product. All in all, there's 8 of them that all worked the gun store. They were more than willing when I brought up the free car idea, but not so much when I said I'd like them to arm as many as they could. Even though I can't imagine they sold more than two shotguns locally the entire time they've been open, they had a significant amount of military style firearms. I think most of their business was done through the internet because a few people said you could buy it cheaper from them online instead of their store front. They disappeared a couple nights ago, cleaning out their shop of just about everything. We found a few old shotguns and 22 rifles, as well as some oddball cartridge ammunition we couldn't use. We figured they split as they hit the grocery store pretty hard too. I showed up at my dealership a couple miles west of here later the next day on a hunch, and what do you know I get shot at right when I get out of my vehicle. I didn't get hit, but the deputy and my assistant with me didn't fare so well. It was the Reeds, and all they wanted from us was our lives. I got back to my car but only made it a few miles before the bullets took their toll on my old Lexus. Luckily they didn't chase me. We have a few men with some decent firepower slung about them, but we don't have enough ammunition for the guns we do have, and to be completely honest with you Doug, our men don't have the balls. We need that dealership back at any costs. The infected, the military, people like the Reeds who have turned into raiders, and the fact I've just got to get these people out of here are all issues that require immediate attention. My cousin is a senator up in Montana, and he said we're more than welcome in his small town up there. There's no infection there as of our last radio communication this morning." Me: "So what exactly do you want me to do, how do you want me to do it, and I hate to sound greedy after all of your hospitality, but is there anything in this for me?" Mayor Little: "I know a man gets attached to his truck, but I don't have a back window for yours. What I can do is offer you first pick of the vehicles on hand. To earn it though, you have to get me my dealership back by any means possible." Our food had showed up and I about shed a tear. I dug in and the food was good beyond belief. Maybe since I hadn't had such a meal in so long, or maybe it just really was that good. We both started to eat, slowing the conversation drastically for a moment. Me: "New cars aren't going to be hard to come by now if you weren't aware. So far there's millions of people who are more concerned with beating faces in and tearing throats out with their teeth, rather than enjoying and maintaining their brand new Ford." Mayor Little: "I know it's a lot to ask, but I will also offer you an all expense trip to a nice ocean front property in Montana" he said with a smirk. "It's safe there and there are literally thousands of seasonal homes that the owner's sadly won't be needing anymore. We have tractors out searching for abandoned fuel tankers to bring back for the trip, and the dealership is the last step after that. If you turn me down, you're free to leave town. Hell, I won't even charge you for the steak." We both chuckled, even though I knew he meant "do it or leave". I worried for a moment. What was to stop me from driving to Montana on my own? How big of badasses are the Reed family? What was to stop Little from telling me to fuck off after? What would I choose for a vehicle if it did work out? Where would I stay until evacuation? What in the fuck was in that gravy I just ate? Me: "I have two conditions on top of what you offered. One is that you give me a day to do some recon on them. Two, is that I get to eat for free at this damn diner up til then, and I get all of the gravy I want". Mayor Little: "Consider one done, and consider two already enacted. I'll also put you in the McEldy residence just a few houses down for the night. They passed away in the old folk's home months ago and the house has been vacant for around a year, aside from the weekly caretaker that used to come out before all this. There's no food there, but it does have hot water and electricity as of 6 hours ago." I realized he was planning this right after I came inti town but didn't show my skepticism. I agreed to the terms at hand and we sat and talked about life before infection for awhile. After a bit we decided it was time to head back to the clinic. As we exited the diner we could hear shots on the other side of town I entered in. I nodded at the mayor in agreement that we should go check it out. About half way through town we could hear the M2 start to put in work on whatever threat was present. As we approached with the windows down a couple of the men were running the opposite direction. Mayor Little: "If you don't turn your ass around right now you might as well pack your bags. You better make sure you're long fucking gone by the time I get back too!" The two men turned back around and reluctantly treaded back towards the bus parked across the road. It appeared no one had moved the bus and the humvee was pulled off in the grass to the side of it unloading on something we couldn't yet see. We both hopped out of the large SUV. I had my loadout and the mayor popped the back hatch and pulled out what seemed to be an M16A1 and a man purse looking bag full of magazines. As we rounded the side of the bus opposite of the humvee, we could see maybe 30 infected about 300 yards away running down the road at us. It was cliche as they yelled and screamed gibberish at the same time we could hear even from this distance. One of the guys that tried to run away came up and said "Our bullets aren't stopping them! This is unreal!". The mayor instantly ordered the M2 to stop firing as he realized what I knew too. With just the streetlights illuminating the incoming crowd these guys were missing. I snapped my ACOG up and took aim. I plugged 6 in a row with out a single miss. One got back up but before I could put her down again the mayor fired a shot right into her head. At this point the other guys gained control of their panic and the entire group of infected was slowly leveled out but managed to get with in 50 yards. We could see a few stragglers multiple hundreds of yards out but they weren't approaching us. As I was wondering to myself if we should take care of them, a convertible Mustang with three younger guys took off and engaged them. They had shotguns so they had to get close but made short work of them. There were more shots fired than expected though as a few were off the road and camoflauged by the darkness. The remaining road guards walked amongst the littered bodies shooting some that were still alive in the head. After a few moments of that they circled back around the mayor and I looking to him for direction. We decided leaving the bodies until morning would be the best idea. No need to get some surprise butt sex from an infected when you're trying to drag a dead body off the side of the dark road. The mayor asked the men if they recognized anyone to which they didn't. I flipped one of the bodies over and grabbed the man's wallet. He was from Lincoln, and had pictures of children in the clear plastic inserts. I walked up to a second corpse to do the same. As I leaned down for a wallet the presumed dead woman next to him latched on to my arm and pulled it down to her mouth. My arm tensed up as she clinched her jaw together right on my wrist. Her dirty face, red eyes, and unwashed hair seemed to be smiling up at me. I grabbed my Busse and panic stabbed her in the head. You'd be amazed that it seems to take more force to pull the blade back out than to get it in, but I did so as it took a second stab to the top of the cranium to get her to release her grip. I stabbed the cunt one more time in the temple after her head dropped to the ground for good measure. The rest of the guys walked up with a gloomy look. I knew I could very well be fucked here either way. The mayor instantly asked "Did it break the skin son?". I looked at the sleeve of my leather coat but didn't see any penetration. I quickly took the jacket off, and even though my wrist hurt and was bright red even under the street lamps, a flashlight examination showed no breakage of the skin. Fuck. I instantly lit up a cigarette. I realized I would be dead had I been wearing my Multicam jacket instead. I also realized these "guards" were for the most part incompetent. That opinion was verified when a man approached me with a discontent look on his face. Idiot: "I checked that lady, I'm sorry. But why the hell would you be leaning down next to a body like that!? Are you fucking stu........." The man's words stopped as I squeezed his wind pipe. He was significantly larger than me, but I didn't care. I'm glad my leverage on his throat kept him from talking, as I might have killed him had he said anything else. Quickly I had three guns in my face telling me to let him go. He was starting to turn blue, but I kept my grip strong as he tried in vein to pull my arms away. Mayor Little: "ENOUGH! So help me God I'll shoot every last one of you stupid sons of bitches! Put your guns away you idiots. Doug, please let that embecile go too." I leg go expecting a fight. Instead the large man dropped and gasped for air instead. Mayor Little: "The rest of you idiots get back to your posts. You better God damn well not shoot wildly and waste our ammo like that again, and you better God damn well make sure that your enemy is dead. Goodnight gentlemen!" We both turned and walked away. I started to feel kind of bad for reacting the way I did. I was better than that. The mayor and I didn't speak on the ride back. We pulled up to my truck at the clinic and he pointed down the cross street. Mayor Little: "See that blue house with the big front porch, that's where you'll be staying tonight. I understand why you got so mad, but son, you have to keep your cool. They fucked up tonight, but they are good people and I ask that you remember that in the future. I'll be back at 9AM to go over the details of your job tomorrow. Goodnight Doug." He was pissed, and I guess I couldn't blame him. I pulled my truck to the house and took about an hour unloading my gear, reloading my magazines, and getting set up for tomorrow. After that it was time for bed, and there was only one in the house. It must have been from the 40's as steel creaked when I got in it, something was poking at my side, and it sank down to just a few inches off the hardwood floor which would be more comfortable with out a doubt. Downstairs I turned on the light to see what the couch was like. They had hundreds of family photos all over. There were also pictures of the former Mr. McEldy from what appeared to be WWII. It made me sad as it was a reminder that almost every war in the past was started in vain. We fought each other since we first walked on two feet, yet now humanity faced itself under completely different terms. The couch was comfortable enough. It smelled like cat piss and old lady perfume, but it would do. As I drifted off to sleep I couldn't help but wonder how long I would survive, yet thought about Sarah at the same time. I thought about twisting one out but the hundreds of faces looking at me in the various pictures around the room was just a bit to creepy. |
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# Chapter 8 - Reposessed Repurcussions.
I had been waiting for a half hour when Little, Sarah, and the young soldier from the clinic showed up. I opened the door and welcomed them in. I'll be honest, I wanted to drag Sarah upstairs caveman style and have my way with her. She had on ACU camo covered by a long white doctors jacket and had her hair down. She smelled so good I felt insane at the sight of her perfect red hair. The young soldier introduced himself as "Gizmo". He was just a little bit shorter than me but looked pretty skinny. He carried a standard issue M9 on his hip and had an M4 with an Aimpoint and some KAC gear slung on his back. He seemed attentive, but didn't talk much either. I could see why he went by Gizmo as his name looked like gibberish. He had no markings as to what his ranking was and I wondered how he ended up here. Sarah asked to see my wrist and I showed her. She gave the remaining bruise a light squeeze and checked my flexibility and said everything looked good. She was all business as usual, except she kept flipping her hair. If it were at a bar I'd be offering her a shot of 101 about now, but a girl like that you know it wasn't a sign of any sort. Little laid out the blueprints of the dealership. We also went over the surrounding areas. Little had a scout about 600 yards away in an old barn we were to meet with before we took any action. I was happy to know I wasn't going in blind on this. Sarah also mentioned that they had automatic weapons at the dealership and getting a vehicle even close was a recipe for disaster. Gizmo asked Sarah a question under his breath and she nodded her head. He left for outside while Little and I spoke about the logistics. He told me he wanted me to get as close as possible before engaging as fields and open roads surrounded the building. He hoped that they might actually take me in and we could talk it out, but realistically planned for an immediate gun battle when my presence was known. The Reeds had caused many troubles for the town before with DUI's and bar fights, and were generally known as condescending assholes, in Little's exact words. Gizmo walked back in holding a long hard plastic case fit for a miniature nuclear warhead. He opened it up to reveal a KAC M110 sniper rifle system. I was delighted and disheartened at the same time. I would have sniper back up, but at the same time I was reminded I would still be going in the immediate shit all by my lonesome. I started to get cold feet and it must have been evident. Sarah: "If you can secure that dealership, I'll load you up with medical supplies. Not just for yourself, but stuff that you might be able to use in trade. Stuff that's crucial and hard to find." Me: "I just want to get somewhere safe. Somewhere away from the infection where I can eat a hot meal and take things easy." Sarah: "With the mayor's blessing, how about the luxury suite at the hotel on the edge of town and a meal fit for a king tonight." Me: "What the hell. I don't exactly have any other plans." I said it confidently but was still shaking in my shoes. We went over everything once more and got ready to go. Gizmo looked business as usual and got his sniper rifle all set up. He handed Sarah his M4 and she set it down just long enough to put her hair up and remove the white doctor jacket. I got nervous when I realized she in fact wasn't staying here, she was coming with! The mayor and her talked in the other room about rushing the dealership if this failed, and how time was of the essence. They came back in and we headed out the door. Once we were in my truck the conversation got really interesting. Sarah: "I'm going to be honest with you, even though the mayor has his doubts. This isn't just about the cars. The night before you showed up two of the Reed family broke into the clinic to steal supplies. I couldn't care less about what they came for, it's something they stole from me that makes this so crucial. I had four vials of unevolved AE68 in a secured transport case. AE68 is not the cure to AE72, but it is the foundation as well as a vaccine. If they compromise what are the last samples in the world of it, we're fucked. The case should be strong enough to hold even the most ambituous person out, but with enough time it's not guaranteed. Obtaining the last remaining samples must be done at all, and any costs Doug." My mind flared with questions. Why are Sarah and Gizmo fleeing the government? Are they actually even doing so? What do they intend to do with it? Why are they going to Montana? How much bullshit have I been fed the past couple days? Why the fuck am I even doing this? I wanted to throw up. Even with all those questions and my doubts about my current company's legitimacy, I just kept driving. Hope was the only fuel in my gas tank, and if I took them at their word, they could hold the key to saving humanity. We pulled up to a back road about 300 yards from the barn the scout was at. It was as close as we could get with out coming into view of the dealership and compromising what little stealth we did have. We moved at an engle to the barn to keep out of view. Shit I'm out of shape. Sarah chugs right along, Gizmo is a bit slower, and I'm breathing heavy and sweating. Maybe these folks did pick the wrong guy. Fuck. As we got within 100 yards an old man appeared from the back of the barn holding a hunting rifle with a huge scope on it. He stood at ready and didn't speak until we were right upon him. Sarah: "Farmer, any status changes for us?" Farmer: "No ma'am. They still get drunk every night and bust out windows on the cars. They actually wrecked a Mustang last night racing up and down the road, and the one driving is definitely injured. Normally they wouldn't wake up for another two hours, but depending on how badly hurt the guy is, I suspect he won't be sleeping as well. No signs of life today yet." Sarah: "Okay. This is Doug, a volunteer for the mission. Anything we know, he can know. So don't be shy." The man extended his hand as did I. Farmer: "Hi there son. My name's Farmer. If you make any cracks about me being Farmer the farmer, we'll have problems." We both smirked. This was one of those guys that had one of the incredibly simple seeming personalities that made most people question his intelligence, but I knew deep down he knew his way around the block. Me: "I'm Doug Ripley, and I don't reckon we'll have a problem with that." Gizmo was already setting up in the barn loft, and Farmer turned to go join him. Sarah explained he was Special Forces in Vietnam, and had been a very big help in their efforts. Sarah handed me communications headset and verified that I had a proper signal established with Gizmo and Farmer. Before I could soak in what I was about to do, Sarah said "Let's go" and we were off. To the right of the barn was a gravel road that would eventually pass about 300 yards behind the massive parking lot of the dealership. Luckily it had some trees and brush along the side of the road, but being winter it didn't provide near as much cover as it should have. Sarah moved about like a cat. Quiet and fast, where as I was pokey and clumsy. In no time we were directly behind the dealership, where only the service garages and a bunch of brand new vehicles faced us. We had a pretty clear view, and I knew I'd feel much better when we got across the field to the cover of the vehicles. Sarah took off running into the open field towards the dealership and I couldn't keep up. She slowed for a minute to wait and turned around to look at me angrily when I saw him. There was a man standing between two cars lining up his shot on Sarah. I yelled her name but snapped off a direct hit on him just as she was turning back to look towards the dealership. I ran to her right so I could get the correct angle to finish him. He was still moving and it took me four shots, but I got him. I never saw him get out a walkie talkie or anything to alert anyone, and hopefully my suppressor kept things quiet enough. Sarah turned to look towards me and thank me as I got about 8 feet away from her. I was loading a fresh magazine when I saw the man with the rifle on the roof. Sarah saw the look on my face and just as she was turning back to ready her rifle, BANG! |
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# Chapter 9 - No lights, no tunnels.
I dove. I'm talking basball style diving. I tackled Sarah just in time to feel the bullet enter at an angle in my right shoulder, and continue that angle breaking a couple of ribs. It knocked the wind out of me. The burning sensation automatically mixed with a shiver. Sara rolled me off of her and I looked back just in time to see the shooter's head puff out a cloud of red mist. Go Gizmo. Sarah kneeled over me as I debated passing out. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was fear of death, but I used my rifle as a crutch to get to my knees. Sarah told me I need to laydown and that Farmer and Gizmo were on their way, but I got to my feet. I realized I might be in shock when my biggest worry was which direction I could head to find a hospital. I got about ten steps back towards the road before I started tasting blood and everything went dark. I could hear voices that sounded like they were underwater or really far away. I could see, yet I couldn't. Images were present, but my brain couldn't register them enough for me to know what was going on. "He's done." "No, we can save him." "We can't abandon the mission now." "It's bad, but we have....." At least I died with a cause. Lights out. |
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# Chapter 10 - A spirit stronger than a body.
I woke up in the same room from a few days ago in the clinic. At least I think it was a few days ago. I tried to move but couldn't. I didn't realize why until I looked down and saw I was strapped to the bed. My back felt like I had been hit with a sledge hammer, but breathing was the worst. The feeling had to be similar to breathing in fire. It was dark outside of my room minus a few sporadically blinking dim lights and fear set in. Ever seen 28 Days Later or the Walking Dead? I was freaking the fuck out. I started yelling for help but no one came. Well, at least I was trying to yell. I couldn't get any volume and my mouth and throat were dry beyond belief. I cried like a bitch. I was sure I had been abandoned, and my wounds hurt. Bad. At the same time they had an itchy or tingle like feeling. I had never been shot before, but I knew the bold and deep nauseating feeling of two broken ribs very well. I calmed down for a moment, and swallowed as much of my own spit as I could to try and get my voice box functional again. "Is anyone there?" "Help me, please?" I plead out, this time actually being audible. Sarah appeared in the door from the dark hallway drinking coffee with an M4 just like Gizmo's. Sarah: "How do you feel?" Me: "Lucky to be alive. Can I have some water. I hate to ask for something so soon, but I need it." Sarah: "Sure thing. I can imagine seeing as you have been out for five days." Me: "You're fucking with me, right? And why am I tied down?" Sarah: "Just a precaution as you weren't being very still in your extended slumber. Here, let me undo those. There's a bottle of water in the cupboard above the sink." Something was wrong. Her face and clothes were dirty. She looked like she had been through hell. I realized there was a generator running in the distance, and no one else was around. Me: "Where is everyone?" Sarah: "Most left in the caravan to Montana already. Gizmo, Farmer, and I stayed. I owe you my life so it was the least I could do to keep you breathing until we could move you. Things have went downhill fast though. The power and water are out, and the infected population has sky rocketed. A house belonging to an old couple caught fire and spread to a whole city block. Did I mention most of the city left three days ago?". She smiled in an obvious attemp at covering her overwhelming loss of any positive emotions. Me: "What are we going to do? Are the infected in town now? How are we getting out? Did you get the vials from the dealership?" Sarah: "We're leaving first thing in the morning. The mayor held his word to give you first pick, but Gizmo had to pick for you. I think you'll like it. Aside from you trying to catch bullets for fun, everything at the dealership went good. The caravan has four tankers, which should be close to enough to get everyone to Montana. The infected are here." Me: "Who all stayed behind?" Sarah: "Just Gizmo and Farmer. Farmer is guarding the front door currently." Me: "Where's Gizmo?" Sarah turned and left the room. She kept a straight face but I knew deep down she was hurting. I felt like an ass for asking so many questions, specifically the last one as Gizmo was obviously gone. It's amazing to think back on how five days before all of this was nothing. Now five days is like a lifetime, and sadly for many like Gizmo, it was. I mustered up the strength to get on my feet and get a bottle of water from above the sink. Surprisingly my wounds weren't debilitating to the point I couldn't move. I did however have to sit down and brace the bottle with my legs and open it with my left hand. Sarah is a hell of a doctor, that's for sure. I surely thought I was fucked, but I can manage with two broken ribs and a flesh wound. It was damn tender, but I was alive. I could feel the tension in the stitches from reaching up with my left arm. Lifting my right arm like that was a definite no go. Sarah walked back in the room with some clothes and an arm sling. It wasn't until then I realized my bare stinky ass was hanging out. Wait, what happened when I shit while I was out? Aside from the IV bag attached to my left arm, nothing else was connected to me. My moment of embarassment quickly passed when Farmer came running in. Farmer: "Boss, we need to get the fuck out of here soon. We've got a lot of activity on the east side of town. You can hear them. I've been through some shit, but that's a puddle of excrement I don't want to wade through. Come see for yourself." Sarah: "Doug, are you okay to drive? You can't shoot, and we'll need all of the bullets flying that we can." Me: "I don't know Sarah. I just got shot, not to mention I just woke up from sleeping for almost a week." Sarah: "Doug, I don't think you understand what we're facing here. You're driving, and we're shooting. Get dressed fast. We have all of your stuff loaded in the new truck already, but we have to get out of here now." She turned and left with out letting me speak. She was panicing. I was still shakey and weak as I pulled the IV out, but I didn't have much choice now. I grabbed a cotton ball from the jar on the table next to my bed and squeezed it between my arm for a few moments while I got my clothes situated. I put on the khaki cargo pants, thick plaid long sleeve shirt, and my leather coat. It hurt like a bitch and I had to be careful not to compromise my bandages. I was wearing the multicam jacket when I got shot and wondered what happened to it. Then I heard shots down the hall. Fuck. Sitting on the counter was my Sig in the drop leg holster so I threw it on my left side. Shooting right handed was a no go. It wasn't optimal and I would fumble when I needed it, but it was better than nothing. I tossed on my boots with out socks as I knew we didn't have long. As I walked out of the room the front door of the clinic was propped open and I could smell the fires burning somewhere with in the city as I headed outside. Other than the tail lights on the already running truck, the only other light was the glow of the fire raging on the other side of town. As I walked to the door I saw Farmer blasting away with the M110. I also realized the truck Gizmo had picked out was an SVT Ford Raptor four door with black paint. I would have picked a diesel for fuel stability, but fuck if I was going to complain! As I hobbled out I could hear a fight on the other side of town. Gun shots and the screams of the infected. A lot of them. A chill hit me and Sarah ran up and helped me over and into the truck. She pushed me in by my ass and I was almost embarassed before I remembered she had cleaned me of my own piss and shit for the past five days. In the back passenger seat was my full load out, my rifle, and my jacket. There were also ammo cans across the entire floor of the back seat, and two in the front as well. Also present on the back seat were my other rifles, some other AR15's, as well as a few combat shotguns of various manufacture. There was also a duffle bag over flowing with hand guns and magazines. Sarah jumped in the passenger seat while Farmer plugged a few infected with the M110. Farmer jumped in as a large explosion from across town erupted. Sarah asked "Are you ready" as she reached over to shift the truck into drive for me. As soon as I pulled to the end of the lot I realized the infected were everywhere. One ran up and punched my door but luckily not the glass. Farmer rolled down the back window and put a hole right in his temple. Quickly I winced as my left ear rang. Sarah opened the glove box and handed me the headset thing I had used before that muffled gun shots. It was similar looking to those bluetooth headsets, but I already knew it had a filter in it so normal hearing was uncompromised. I pulled out to head west and saw the waitress from the diner jumping up and down on a car obviously infected. Two infected men ran up and pulled her down and started beating her face into the sidewalk. Sarah: "There's nothing we can do for her now." I gunned the truck just as an infected ran straight at us. I knew from my younger years that hitting things with cars fucked them up fast, so I slowed and waited for him to come around to the side before speeding off. The amount of infected was getting thicker as they seemed to be running house to house, and now Sarah pumped rounds out of a Glock while she slightly hung out of the passenger window. As we approached a bridge over a creek we realized that plan was gone. A large truck was parked across the bridge stopping our escape. The way it was parked seemed intentional, but no one was around. Farmer directed me to take a right into a neighborhood. He said there was a highway on the other side free of any bridges. It would slow us down a bit, but this was about escaping, not getting to work on time. Right as we turned there was a man in a lawn chair at the end of his driveway. He was dead from a self inflicted gun shot wound to the head. The blood was frozen in a pool right below where he sat. It was definitely a shotgun as there was not much left of his face. Sarah didn't seem to care, but I couldn't help but look over to realize the blood flowing from his eyes looked like tears. It sickened me, but for some reason my stomach let out a huge growl. Farmer: "Damn you're twisted boy." Sarah looked back at Farmer as if to hush him, and grabbed her backpack off the floor. She opened it up and handed me a cereal bar. Sarah: "Don't eat too fast and make sure you chew it up pretty good." I couldn't navigate and open the snack at the same time due to my injuries, so she snatched it from me and ripped it open. The road we were on was long and straight and I still couldn't lift my right hand to my face so I used my knee to navigate. Sarah looked at me like she was going to hit me. Just as I finished the last bite I saw headlights quickly approaching us from behind. I slowed to the stop sign to turn on the highway and the man pulled up beside me in a minivan. I rolled down the window and before I could say anything he raised a revolver. Revolver guy: "Get the fuck out of the truck, NOW!" Our truck had tinted windows and sat a bit higher than the van, and keeping his focus on me he never even noticed Farmer roll down the window and point a sawed off Remington 870 at him. Me: "Friend, lower that gun before things go really bad here." Revolver guy: "Things already are really bad you prick. Now get....." He stopped talking immediately when he realized Farmer was pointing buckshot at his face. He slowly lowered the revolver and looked forward. He didn't have a look of fear, more like a loss of hope. He reversed backwards and swung the car back towards town. I actually felt a little bad for him, as he didn't appear to be from around the area. We continued down the highway for about 10 miles and I pulled over. I was in too much pain and Sarah obliged. I asked Farmer to get out the owner's manual real quick. I asked him if he could locate the fuse for the tail lights for me and pull it. After finishing, Sarah hopped in the driver seat while Farmer stayed in the back. Me, I took a few sips of water and passed back out. |
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If you guys want an idea of what Sarah looks like, I picture her looking very similar to adult acrress Kloe Kane. Except with out the whole having sex for money on camera thing. Google search at your own risk as her pictures are not work/wife safe.
And FYI Sarah was a character in my mind before I saw the porn star. I was debating adding visualizations and found her in my search for a red head. I decided against it though as fonding people that look like what I visualize my characters looking like was time consuming and seemed kind of creepy. 
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# Chapter 11 - Radiating luck.
Daylight broke and we pulled over on a dirt road off the highway. Sarah had been driving for a few hours while Farmer and I snored her ear drums into submission. We were all hungry and the sun had come up. The cold seemed to have broken as the truck said it was already 40 degrees out. Sarah opened up the tonneau cover which exposed a completely packed bed. All of our clothing, a couple bolt action rifles, a shit ton of food, some medical supplies, and the permanent extra 20 gallon gas tank in the bed left us with no room. Seeing as we didn't have any big cities to pass through anytime soon, we traded some of the guns and ammo from inside the truck with food. Sarah: "Take you shirt off and get in the driver's seat. Then adjust the seatback down as far as it will go so I can take a look at your wound." Me: "Okay, but you're not going to hit me this time, right?" She smiled and slapped me in my left arm. It still made my ribs hurt but I couldn't help but laugh. She lightly pressed around the wound asking me my pain levels, but nothing was too severe surprisingly. She cleaned my stitches off with something that hurt like a bitch and gave me a shot that was supposed to help fight infection. Personally, I think she enjoyed inflicting pain on me. Farmer was walking up the side of the truck and said "Holy shit!". Sarah: "Yeah, they got him good but he's healing just fine". In the rear view it looked like she was glaring at him and I got a little worried. Me: "Can I see it?" Sarah: "Yeah, just let me pull your head off real quick dumbass. Now lift up your right arm as far as you can before you start feeling severe pain." To my surprise I could now lift it to about shoulder level. Rotating it forward or backwards still hurt though. Sarah pulled out a stethoscope from her back pack. Sarah: "Take a deep breath for me. Okay, another, but hold it this time for as long as you can." At about four minutes my right lung started to tremble a little bit and I let it go. Seems my cut back on smoking since the apocalypse was quite healthy in this aspect. I knew the world record was 20 something minutes, but what about after all this shit? Kind of funny how a throw away book like the Guiness Book of World Records was now something almost monumental for the future. If humanity were to fade away, I'd love to be known as the man with the largest penis in the world when some poor aliens happened upon the remains of our cluster fuck, heh. Sarah started putting a new bandage back on and said everything is healing nicely. I checked my arm where the IV was and there was no bruise. This woman must have been a surgeon too. We all got back in the truck. Farmer was driving, and Sarah was in the passenger seat. Sarah cracked open some of my Spaghetti O's and passed around cans. Luckily she was smart enough to bring some plastic silverware. Sarah: "I know it's disposable, but hold on to them for as long as possible. It was forgotten yesterday while Farmer and I fought off the infected while you slept, but Merry Christmas guys." Fuck. I had more people around for the holidays than normal, but it still stung. They both went silent for a few moments and I realized both of them were hurting. I started to beat myself up with sadness too, so I jumped back into conversation. Me: "Make sure you take care of my can opener too. You'd be amazed what I had to do to get you that damn thing." She again gave me the death stare, but now it was obviously concealing a smile. I realized I'm starting to grow fond of this girl. Farmer just shook his head at us and drove on. The emergency broadcasts were gone and no radio stations played at all, AM or FM. I pulled my phone out though and handed it to Sarah. To my surprise she put on some Waylon Jennings. Fuck, I want to marry this girl. We both pestered Farmer when he started singing "Mommas don't let you babies grow up to be cowboys" though. Sarah laid her chair back and rolled to the side facing me and closed her eyes. In no time at all her breathing cycles verified she was out deep. She looked beautiful laying there, and actually seemed to smile in her sleep. I wondered what had happened the past 5 days. How did Gizmo die? What was the relationship between them? Did things go as planned with the virus? How would she convert it to a cure? I had so many questions but I knew the pain of losing Gizmo was still to fresh. Did he die saving me? My eyes grew heavy again, and Farmer was busy driving the Raptor down the highway trying his best to look like Billy Badass while the rest of the Waylon songs played. For once I felt lucky despite the apocalyptic holidays. These people barely know me and went out of their way to save my life, and I'd do it for them too..... Farmer: "Hey, wake the hell up you two." I realized we were stopped in the middle of the highway and there was nothing but wide open soy field left overs from last season surrounding us. I looked forward and saw a car pointed right at us stopped about 60 feet down the road. Farmer: "They stopped, so I did too." Sarah: "Well something tells me a standoff like this won't work well for any of us." Me: "I agree. Start pulling really slow towards them. Sarah, be ready." Sarah pulled out her Glock 19 and did a press check. I grabbed a white t-shirt from my bag on the floor and rolled down my window. I hung the t-shirt out and waved it around to try and show we were friendly as we inched forward to the Volkswagon Jetta. Me: "Hi there, where are you headed?" The man looked to be a soft office worker kind of guy with glasses and a marron V cut sweater on. He had a fairly good looking woman in the passenger seat and a maybe 8 year old boy and 6 year old girl in the back. Office guy: "Missouri Valley Iowa. My family has a farm out there." Me: "You got a long way to go. I highly recommend you cut north at the next junction and drive around Omaha." Office Guy: "That adds too much time on to my trip. My kids are tired and hungry but thanks for the warning." He started to roll up the window to drive away. Me: "Look here buddy, there is no way out of Omaha if you can even get in. Even if you do, you better be prepared to swim because that's the only way you'll get across the river from Omaha. That's if you can get past the hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of infected there. Here, hold on." I hopped out of the truck and lifted the tonneau. I grabbed about 12 cans of Chef Boyardee beef ravioli and gave them to him, as well as 12 bottled waters. Me: "Do you have any guns?" Office guy: "No, and as much as I appreciate your offer, we can't take this. We're vegans." I could hear Farmer laughing as I walked back to the truck. I had some green beans and peas, so I grabbed two cans of each. They can fuck off, I'm keeping the spinach for myself. I also grabbed my old lower with the M4 upper on it. I figured semi auto would be better for him. Me: "Remember, one pull of the trigger for every bullet. I'm also giving you six loaded magazines too. Use all of this sparingly, because your journey is about to get very hard. The last car we saw before you wanted to kill us, and you have to watch out for infected as well as the healthy. Don't hesitate, but don't be trigger happy." Office guy: "Umm, okay thanks. We don't need the pasta though." Me: "Buddy, unless you're going to live off dirt until those fields over there grow back, I suggest you hold on to them. Think long and hard about having to watch your children starve. So hold on to it. Maybe you can trade it to someone any how." Office guy: "Thank you, but why are you being so generous if you don't mind me asking?" Me: "I'm only here because of luck and generous people. You're going to need a fucking miracle though. Stop for no one, and remember if they have red eyes, shoot them with out hesitation or you'll end up watching them murder that pretty little family of yours. Merry Christmas and happy New Years." Maybe I was a little harsh, but this guy was going to get his family killed fast with out a reality check. I got in the truck with out saying good bye. As he rolled up his window and started to drive off his little girl smiled and waved at me. I expected Farmer and Sarah to be pissed I just gave stuff away, but instead Sarah was sitting up attentively and smiled at me. Farmer: "Son, you sure as hell are soft serve aren't you?" He chuckled in a way that said he was completely in tune with what I did. Sarah had turned back forward but I could see she was still smiling. Sundown was coming soon and we were going to need a convenient gas refill before too long anyways. We saw signs for a town called Brand and decided we might try it. After a few miles and the sun going down, we came upon what was left of the tiny little city. It looked like it had burnt to the ground. Aside from a few cars that were left behind and obviously damaged, the place looked abandoned at first. Me: "It's creepy, but I'd be willing to bet those two wrecked cars over there have gas in them. How are we going to go about getting the gas out of them though?" Farmer: "I got a siphon pump. The thing was about $10 but it's worth it's weight in gold now. The real problem is this truck is taller than those cars, so we have to siphon it into a container, then dump it in the truck. This could take a long damn time and this place gives me the heebie jeebies." Sarah: "As much as you sound like a girl Farmer, I do think we should wait until daylight to do this. The problem I see is we'll need a place for us to stay until then. It's going to get pretty desolate from here and we need to get our cards lined up before we go any further north." Me: "I think we should leave town for now though." I pointed across the street to the woman snacking on a charred corpse. It seemed like there was movement in the darkness in multiple places so Farmer gunned the truck through town. After about 30 miles we pulled off on a side road that had some decent cover thanks to some pine trees. We could see cattle in the field so we figured it was safe for now. We had planned on sleeping in the truck but Sarah had noticed an old farmhouse off in the distance. This woman is a cat, because I sure as hell didn't see anything. All three of us mutually agreed to go check it out. It was in the 50's today and bundling up in a 50 degree house sounded better than being cramped up in the truck. Not to mention we would either leave it running, or start it every once in awhile which would not only use resources but attract attention too. We crept up to the old white farm house which was void of any lighting, electric or flame powered. The infected didn't know how to light candles though...... |
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# Chapter 12 - Roshambo.
We all agreed to park the truck out back as one of the second floor windows had an awning that would make for a convenient escape. It also kept it out of view when the sun came up. Behind the house was nothing but a giant field of cattle who would play a good distraction for any infected who got close enough. They would also serve as a good alarm as I would imagine even a cow would make a ruckus if an infected laid into them. We knocked on the back door. Then we knocked again. Then we knocked some more. As I readied my knife to bust out the window, Farmer reached down and turned the unlocked door knob. Doh. We walked in the door way under the agreement we would try our best to avoid sweeping the windows with our lights for any period of time. First we had Sarah try to draw out anyone in the house, infected or not. Sarah: "Hello? Anyone here? We don't mean to intrude, but we need a place to stay the night. If you're here please speak up." Nothing but silence. She asked a few more times and got the same result. We were going to clear it anyways. We started with the basement. It was clear but loaded with supplies. Canned meat, canned pasta, canned veggies, bottled water, juice, soda, and about anything else that didn't spoil. Gotta love farmers! There was also a generator in the corner I didn't dare fire up until we were done. The good news was sitting next to it was a five gallon fuel tank. Shaaaawiiiing! The first level was clear as well. It looked like who ever lived here didn't return from a temporary leave. It seemed like no one had been in the house for sometime until we hit the kitchen. Someone had been eating the meat from the refridgerator and left the door open. The smell was enough I had to step back. I think even the infected would flee from that stench now. As we headed upstairs we knew something was amiss as there was fur all over the place. As we headed down the hall it started to show a bloody mix of organs and hair. There were three bedrooms and we needed coverage. My ribs in my back still hurt, but I knew I would be better off holding the suppressed Sig right handed. We decided all three of us would go for room three last where the blood and fur lead to. I cleared the room to my right which was the one with the escape awning. Farmer cleared the first room to the left which was a vacant office. Sarah checked the bathroom and held down the hallway while we did that. Farmer took the lead to the last room. It smelled like death outside of it, and I think all three of us were scared. Farmer reached for the door handle but stopped when we noticed the blood closest to the door was incredibly fresh. He said "Fuck this" and took a step back and kicked the door open. The smell instantly made all three of us wince. Yet it was nothing compared to the site. On the bed we assumed was a dead body under the blood stained covers. The room was littered with remnants of animals, fecal matter, and urine. Sarah pointed at the bed and we realized who ever was under there was alive and breathing. Farmer said "Hello?" and who or what ever it was made a sound that sounded like a cat growling. I raised my gun to shoot and Farmer put his hand up to stop me. He inched forward reaching for the covers to expose if this was a real person or not. "Ahhhhhhhh!" the frail old lady screamed. The frail woman pounced on Farmer so fast from under the covers I about shit my pants. Sarah jumped back and the old woman powered Farmer to the floor. She snapped at his face as he held her back and before anyone could react he kicked her off of him, launching her across the room into the corner. She stood right back up but just started laughing hysterically. Sarah and I shined our lights on her naturally by pointing our guns at her, and her laughter stopped. She looked at us with her bright red eyes, wrinkled face, and short but nicely trimmed grey hair in a way that screamed bloody murder into our souls. She let out a hiss and positioned her body like she was going to pounce. I had enough and dropped the hammer on the Sig, forcing a perfectly round looking hole right in her forehead. Farmer: "Thanks." Me: "You only need to thank me if she didn't bite you or get spit or blood in your mouth. What the hell were you doing?" Farmer: "None of that happened, but I'm not so sure she wasn't capable of doing it if she wanted. It's like she was threatening me if anything. I don't know what the fuck was running through my head, but I'm fine." Me: "Well, the room we talked about is empty. It looks like a kid's guest room, but the bed is big enough for you Sarah. Farmer and I can just use sleeping bags and sleep on the floor. But first I've got some ideas and I want to eat." I scavenged the canned food looking specifically for tuna. I hadn't had a tuna sandwhich in years, and I had a project involving the cans. Luckily there was an unopened jar of mayonaise and relish too. I wondered how long the woman had been infected as I was amazed this stuff was still here. We dumped out most of the relish and used the jar as a mixing pot. Tunafish sammiches for the win! After we got done mixing it up, we realized one key problem though, we had no bread. We played paper rock scissors to determine who would be going to the kitchen to check on finding bowls. After the work we put in, we agreed we would all just eat it straight. While no one said it, I do believe we all realized this could be the last time we ever have any of the three ingredients together. Mayonaise would become rare in the future. Farmer lost to myself in the final round (paper rules) but we went downstairs with him just as a security precaution. Sarah and I couldn't help but laugh as he gagged repeatedly searching for the bowls. Finally he came running out of the kitchen with three tupperware tubs, eyes still watering from the smell. Farmer: "Fuck you two. I got dibs on the two liter of root beer downstairs for that. We agreed he could have it, but Sarah and I both wanted the bottle of Ocean Spray Cran-Grape. The woman had good taste but there was only one bottle. We agreed to share it, but who was going to get the glasses from the rancid kitchen...... Sarah: "I saved your life, you owe me." Me: "I saved yours first, you owe me!" Sarah: "All the more reason to continue the cycle in an even rotation. I'm sure I'll save your dumbass again soon anyways, so buckle up buttercup." Farmer: "Would you two shut the hell up already! Christ all mighty you two are worse than children." Sarah: "Fine. I guess one perk to being the idiot that does your tune ups is knowing you don't have any cooties." She took a swig and passed it to me. I was cheesing like an idiot and took a long chug just to be an asshole. She didn't even care. Bitch..... I scouted the floor level and found a thick cardboard box as well as five or six candles. Sarah had a long torch lighter meant for grills which I was glad to know. After rolling up the cardboard inside of the tuna cans and pouring melted wax on it, we had heat. It's not exactly ground breaking, but the three I made did add a few degrees to the room, even with the door open. I was creeped out at first of this place, but now I didn't want to leave. Farmer was lucky. His sleeping bag was plaid and thick. It wasn't the cold keeping me awake while the others slept, it was the hard wood floor. My ribs seemed to feel better by the minute and my lungs actually felt better than ever, but it was still bothering me. I decided to go take a piss and figured maybe that was part of the bother. There was no water in the toilet so my piss just puddled in the bottom. For a moment I almost dropped my flashlight from my mouth right into it too. How pissed off would I have been, much pun intended. I took a moment to look at myself in the mirrow. My hair was getting long, as was my beard. I know for a fact Farmer had an electric razor. Maybe soon I would feel comfortable enough to ask him about borrowing it. I pulled off my shirt and turned to check my wound. I was amazed to see barely even a scar. In fact, the only solid sign I had been shot was the few stitches that hadn't fallen out yet. What in the fuck? Maybe I wasn't hurt that bad and I was being a puss about it. Yet I do have stitches, which on their own should show evidence of a worse injury. I lifted my arm and realized nearly all functionality had returned. I got back in my sleeping bag still confused. I'm confident I'd have fallen right to sleep were it not for me wondering what the fuck was going on with my injury. As I sat there wondering I heard Sarah rustling around, and then sit up just a little. For some reason I squinted my eyes and pretended I was asleep. She peeked over the bed at me and just stared for a few moments with moonlight illuminating her face that was pastey white in comparison to most tanning booth junkies this day and age. She laid her head down on the edge of the bed where I could still see her face and she drifted back off to sleep. What a sexy funcking ginger. I smiled as I finally caught myself falling to sleep. |
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Hopefully close updates will hold you over for a bit. I got family in town and my underlings at work are making the place into a zoo so my time is being eaten up. # Chapter 13 - One stitch at a time. I woke up and my phone said it was 9AM on the dot. Farmer was still snoring, and Sarah was sprawled under the covers still sleeping. As I got up both of them woke. Sarah looked amazing even with her hair all fucked up, and Farmer fought to get up as his joints popped and his tendons creaked. He had to be in his 60's but was still surprisingly active. He was the type that would die riding on top of a tractor long before he would retire. If I was half as capable as he is at that age, I'd say I'd be in damn good shape. Me: "Anyone need to go number 1 before I go pitch a loaf?" Sarah: "Stay classy Doug, and yes." Farmer laughed as she walked out of the room. Farmer: "Keep that head of yours clear son, any way you can." Me: "What are you saying?" Farmer: "Sometimes it's best to ignore things, and sometimes it's best to man up and take control. Avoid playing games so we can all stay alive kid." Me: "Are you talking about her, and what exactly are you saying?" Farmer: "Don't try and act naive. We got shit to do once you get done making an underwater clay sculpture of yourself. There's a barn and garage out back we need to check, as well as getting that jug downstairs to fill us up on gas." Sarah walked back in and pointed her thumb behind her. I nodded at Farmer and went to relieve myself. As I got back they were both geared up and ready to go. I asked if they wanted to eat breakfast first, and Farmer said he saw something we might like outside. We walked to the side of the garage and saw a massive propane tank. Farmer said the place is propane heated, and also runs on well water. He went on to explain that if the generator was running, in about a half hour we could have a hot bath, but stated he still refused to ingest the water otherwise. Sarah and I both lit up at the possibility and asked what we needed to do. Farmer kicked at the padlock on the large garage until it broke the hinge it hung upon. We opened the door to an old boat of an early 90's Volvo, a ride along lawnmower, a tow behind enclosed trailer, and a fuel tank of maybe 120 gallons. I had a boner. Well, for a moment until we realized there was a dead old man inside the car. It looked like his throat was slashed, and I for one wasn't going to open the door to verify. He was definitely dead and that was my only concern. If I had to guess, I'd say he was infected first and his wife (now dead upstairs) killed him but couldn't avoid getting infected herself in the process. Farmer was excited about the trailer until he realized the height of our truck would leave the bumper of the little trailer dragging as the ground clearance of the trailer was much less than that of our truck. Down in the basement the fuel jug was almost full. Luckily it fired up after just a few attempts. These people were in place to ride this thing out pretty solidly, so I had Sarah go search the rest of the place for any weapons. As I picked through the supplies and debated on breakfast, Farmer told me to yell for Sarah and stop searching. Farmer found an old wooden door that led to a crawl space just big enough for one man to kneel inside. As the power flickered on he reached in and pulled on a draw string and said to me "That's you son". In all honesty, all but three of the guns there weren't worth grabbing. One was an M1897 trench gun, bayonet and all. Not the most effective, but it struck a nerve for me. There was also an SP1 old school M16A1 clone, lacking only the full automatic fire mode in common with what Farmer likely used back in the day. I had no say, he was taking it. The only other thing I wanted was a little 5 shot .357 revolver that had an ankle holster for it. I could use that, even if he only had 38 Special shells for it. We left the bolt actions, shotguns, and the rest of the revolvers. Maybe we could have used it for trade, but we decided to leave it in the living room in case someone else came along and needed it. We did however clean out all of the 20 round Colt mags for the AR, his buckshot, and the slugs he had for his 12 gauges. He had about ten boxes of shitty .223 ammo, but you can never have enough of that. As we got everything packed up we heard the water turn on from upstairs. We were both surprised when we heard Sarah yell "Woo hoo!". We knew what was up and realized we were now bitter enemies. We both got in striking position for an all out war. Our fists slammed down in an effort to claim victory. Farmer was old but managed to keep his fist swinging at the same intensity I was. This was it. The final blow. The stairs creaked a few minutes later as Farmer ran upstairs probably with more enthusiasm than any 60 year old man ever had. Paper for the lose to his wrinkly ass old scissors. I was stuck on watch out while that stubborn shit head washed his old wrinkly ass before me. I figured the office would allow me the best view from the front of the house so I approached. Holy shit was I right. As I opened the door I was directly facing Sarah wearing nothing but panties with her legs in the air pulling on knee high socks in the office chair. No sooner than my mouth dropped I caught a stapler right to the forehead. I pulled the door back shut before I even realized the pain. Me: "Ahhh, fuck!" I put my hand to my head just in time to feel the blood start running out of a cut directly above my eye brow. Sarah was fucking gorgeous, but holy shit she actually fucked me up good. The blood was now getting into my eye and a welt forming made it that much worse. Just as she flung the door open with obvious intent to lay into me again with clothes on, she saw the blood gushing from my eye. Sarah: "Shit." Me: "I'm sorry, but holy fuck woman, did you need to do that?" Sarah: "I'll patch you up, but didn't you ever learn to knock?" She ran to her backpack and came back with a stitch kit. Fuck my life. I could tell she felt bad but a girl like Sarah would punch you in the eye before she would aplogize. I was actually a bit mad at her realizing the blood was still flowing. Me: "Are you serious? It was an accident you know." Sarah: "Shhh, I have to focus, and this might hurt a little." I gritted my teeth as she stitched my eye up. I couldn't believe this bitch just Nolan Ryan'ed me with an office supply, but I was still happy she was around for this kind of stuff. At this point Farmer came out of the bathroom and walked in whistling. Farmer: "Damn. What the hell did I miss?" Sarah looked down in shame and was just about to speak when I cut her off. Me: "I tried breaking the crawl space door in the basement with my face. The door won." Farmer: "Ouch. Dumbass." Me: "Yeah, tell me about it. Do you still got those hair clippers? I need to get rid of this mop forming on my head and would like to do a solid clean up seeing as we don't know when we'll get this option again." Farmer: "You're lucky I just scored some batteries out of our host's TV remote. It's all yours. The drain in there is already clogged so don't expect to trim up in the shower. It looks like someone shaved a red wookie in there." Sarah: "Fuck you Farmer. You guys are crazy running around with hairy legs." I laughed at what Farmer said and Sarah pulled a stitch extra tight and made me wince. I laughed as I mumbled "You bitch" only loud enough for her to hear. Farmer left the room to go check on breakfast. Me: "You really are something else Sarah. That fucking hurt." Sarah: "Well that's the price you pay. Are you going to be okay wittle baby? Do you want me to kiss it?" She said it in a smart ass voice that annoyed the hell out of me and I fired right back "Yes". I closed my eyes and flinched expecting to get hit. Instead I got a kiss right smack dab in the middle of my forehead. As I opened my eyes she was turning to walk out of the room. Damn. I was smiling ear to ear. Now I wasn't so sure I didn't have a chance. I walked up to the closed office door she had gone into and debated walking right in, knocking, and just walking away. Me: "Remember the first time we met, I think we can call it even now." Sarah: "Mr. Ripley, I cleaned up your shit for almost a week while fighting off an infected apocalypse. We're very, very far from even. Now how about you go help Farmer with breakfast so we don't end up eating grits and beans." I smirked in embarassment and turned to walk away. I knew the shower was out of hot water after those two were done, so I took her advice. Farmer was in the kitchen microwaving Spam. I was fine with that when I realized he was also making mashed potatoes and gravy made from beef broth to go with it. The kitchen still smelled ripe, but with the fridge closed and the rotten meat thrown out it was atleast standable now. Sarah walked in wearing a black long sleeve shirt with a V cut in it. I'm sure it has a real name for it's style, but I sure didn't know it. It did leave her cleavage exposed the slightest bit and both I and that old skeezer Farmer both stared. She looked to be about a C cup, and if there were any staplers handy both Farmer and I would surely have new cuts above our eyes. I think half of it was the amazement of seeing her wearing something normal though. Sarah was probably 5'5" or so, and she was wearing a pair of almost white light blue jeans that hugged her figure well. It set both of us back. Sarah: "Shut the fuck up, both of you. If either of you say anything I'll shoot you where you stand." I went back to stirring the flower into the broth and Farmer went back to the Spam. Sarah ran downstairs to grab some juice and then it was time to eat. As soon as we got done Sarah mentioned immediately leaving and I reminded her that I had yet to shower. I knew she was fucking around but mentioned how bad I stank anyways. Upstairs I shaved my head down to a solid 3/8ths of an inch. My beard was trimmed down to the usual 1/8th inch and it was time for the shower. The soapy water stung in my fresh stitches that Sarah told me to cover but I didn't even care. I stood there like an idiot just absorbing the hot water for at least five minutes with out moving an inch. Finally I finished cleaning up and then I started thinking about Sarah. Just as I considered showing myself a good time the hot water abruptly ended. I jumped and turned the spigot off as fast as I could. I could hear the water running through the pipes still and instantly knew it had to be Sarah. I dried off and shaved my beard along my jaw line and down my neck. I felt like a million dollars and brushed my teeth. I found myself still thinking about Sarah. I need to snap the fuck out of this. I cleaned up and got dressed into clean clothes. I put on my Multicam coat after admiring the stitching job where a bullet tore through it. I only know one person to stitch that good, so I headed downstairs feeling so fresh and so clean. Farmer and Sarah were sitting at the table and both looked at me in a way that made it obvious they were talking about me. Me: "What's up?" Farmer: "We have enough gas to fill the truck up from the tank in the garage. We still have to go through town to get back on the highway though. I'm sure we can connect to it from here somehow, but we'd probably waste too much time trying to figure it out." Me: "Smart phone to the rescue! I forgot I have an application that I downloaded network connection free maps on." Farmer: "I'd kiss you if you had tits." Me: "Eat shit old balls." Sarah and I chuckled at his comments and we went about getting everything set up to fill up the Raptor. As we spent almost two hours getting everything situated, Farmer went off to look at the trailer to see if it had anything good in it. After digging the key out from the bench next to the gas tank, he opened it up to find food and water packed into it. Most of the food cans were expanded, and all of the bottled water had frozen and blown up. We could easily clean out the trailer if we wanted to risk using it, but it reminded us that our supplies would face the same fate in the bed of the truck. We could put a lot of it inside with us, but had no way to fit everything. It was cooling down, and we needed an answer to this. |
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# Chapter 14 - Swaying Evils.
I've seen lots of people mention trucks when it comes to bug out vehicles. I had one myself. How dumb could I be. I'm not going to be hauling couches. I'm going to be hauling food, water, and other things needed for survival. Fuck. All that water and food is just a cold day away from being garbage. Farmer and I both eyed the Raptor's bed loaded with supplies. Farmer realized it at the exact same time I did. Farmer: "Take my man card, we need a station wagon." Me: "You need a station wagon, but I need an SUV." Farmer: "Sounds like the same thing there soccer mom." Me: "Well I guess when your first car was a Model T it might be hard to tell a difference." Farmer: "Son, I will wipe that smile off your purty lil' mouth with my boot if you keep this up. Me: "You're still old. Fucker." We stared eachother down for a moment until Sarah came and yelled for us to come in. Farmer was the shit. He was at least twice my age but seemed more like a brother to me. Sarah would never admit it, but she seemed to look up to him more as a father. Maybe I did too, but was just enjoying that matured father son relationship I never had the chance at. Sarah on the other hand, mmmmm. I hope she didn't think of me as a brother, becuase that would make me one incest craving backwoods hillbilly mother fucker. Thoughts back on track...... We headed back in to try and put our heads together. We had lots of options for vehicles but not many were optimal. Sarah walked over to the front door and grabbed the stack of mail from the entry way table. She tossed envelope after envelope on the floor until she stopped to read one. It was one of those dealership fliers with the stupid little obvious fake keys. Sarah: "Doug, do you still have that map application?" Me: "Yeah, why?" Sarah: "We need to find Junction 92." Me: "We're on 10th East, so it looks like it's just south of here. In fact, it looks like we crossed the intersect for it. It was about half way back to town." Sarah: "Let's go shopping." We packed up the essentials in the Raptor and left with the intent to come back. We made sure not to leave anything crucial in case we couldn't though. I was driving the truck down the empty highway and Sarah was using my phone as an MP3 player as she liked to do. Even in the apocalypse a cell phone was still a very good thing to have around. Sarah propped her leg up on the dash and cracked the window just far enough to blow her hair around as she picked through my music. She turned and gave me a light smile and put on Bruce Springsteen's "I'm on Fire". I smiled back thinking how the song was fitting for her long red hair blowing around in the wind over her ACU jacket. The Benelli M1 Entry propped between her leg and the center console was the only thing to remind me of how awful this all was. That's saying a lot too, as I like guns and women. Under these circumstances it bothered the fuck out of me though. Even if humanity did recover I knew it would never go back to normal. "Fucking grim" was all I could think as the song played while we drifted down a highway void of life. As we approached the dealership we could tell things weren't right. About a mile away there was a car in the ditch, and rubber on the highway from where it looked like another car ran them off the road. On the shoulder there were still brass casings littered every where from what looked like a gunfight. The dealership was on the left side of the highway, and to the right was the extensive wooded hills that extended northwest to where the farmhouse was. We decided it would be best to scout the place out rather than ask some possible hostiles for keys. We exited a side road that abruptly ended, leaving our truck in plain view. I pulled the truck off into the ditch, opposite from the dealership's view. Anyone coming down the road would be able to see the truck, but the dealership couldn't at least. Farmer had the M110, I had my M16 shorty, and Sarah still stuck with the Benelli but grabbed a Remington 700 SPS as well. I couldn't help but laugh to myself as Farmer was wearing woodland camo, Sarah ACU, and I had on Multicam. What a bunch of mall ninjas we must look like. We were about 400 yards away, and through my binoculars I could see there were two men on the roof posted as look outs. The office had maybe five people in it and it appeared they might not have power as they were all bundled up. They had the cars parked bumper to bumper around the perimeter. If they had alarms and working batteries, this was genius. It isn't impossible to get through, but if the infected came they would know. Even as far away as we were we still remained cautious and decided to eat while we observed them. Fucking A, Rice Crispy Treats are the shit. I finished my grub and was just about to light up a cigarette when a short bus pulled up to the dealership. A guy we hadn't even noticed got out of a car parked in the front row off the street and ran over. After talking to them he jumped in the Suburban that blocked the front entry and moved it so they could get in. They pulled it to the service garage on the left side of the dealership. The five men from the showroom came out armed, and three naked women who had their hands tied and gags in their mouths got off the bus. What the fuck? Me: "Farmer, have that M110 ready." Farmer: "One step ahead of you." One of the girls had to be only an early teen. The oldest man from the group walked up and appeared to be talking to them. He grabbed the young girl by her neck and kissed her on the duct tape covering her mouth as she tried her best to get away. She was shaking around as he held on to her, and then scored big with a knee to the bean bag of the older man. Before we even had a chance to react, the old man pulled his gun and shot her right in the chest. I held my hand up to Farmer letting him know to wait. I knew he'd want blood now, but he still didn't have a clear shot. The old man went up to the other women individually grabbing them open hand by their cheeks. He pointed down to the woman he just murdered and I wondered what he was saying. He stepped back and two of the men pointed their guns at the women as they turned and stood with their faces against the bus like it was a felony traffic stop. The old man kicked their legs out, spreading them just a bit. He then proceeded to stick his fingers in the first one and then taste them. He then did the same to the second girl as both women helplessly cried. Four of the men plus the guy driving the short bus took the women into the service garage and the old man stayed outside with the entry guard. He looked around and pulled a cigar from his leather jacket and lit it up. This was our time. Me: "Farmer, you get the two guys on the roof. I'll take the old man and the other. Sarah, don't fire until the other guys come out. Hopefully we can keep this quiet for now." Farmer: "Just say go." Me: "Go!" Farmer fired first hitting the guy on the roof to the right. I fired immediately after, setting the old man on his ass with an upper chest shot. The other guy on the roof looked around confused just before Farmer put a round right through his neck. This one created a problem though as he fell forward off the roof and on to a car directly below it which set off the car alarm. I scored a headshot on the last guy outside as he ducked behind a car not knowing where exactly we were. Me: I'm moving in. Sarah, pick off anyone who comes out those doors that isn't naked. Farmer, go get the truck and head back down the road we came up, and be ready to move in." They both nodded their heads and I was off down the hill. The brush would keep me pretty well concealed, and before I was even 200 yards away I heard Sarah pop off a round. She was a damn good shot, and gloated through our coms. Sarah: "One down, at least four to go. Enjoy your work out hun." I cracked a grin instead of a witty response as I ran towards the dealership. Me: "Sarah, I need you to put a few rounds in the cars that would likely have alarms at the back of the dealership when I get close to the front. I'm going in through the showroom and want them to expect me from behind the place." As I approached Sarah shot out the windows on multiple cars. Now not only would they think I'm coming from behind the place, but it would muffle any alarms I set off coming in. I was right too, as I jumped over the hood of a Malibu it instantly started going crazy. Sarah: "The old man you shot is crawling on to the bus, you want me to take him out?" Me: "No, the front is blocked still and he won't be able to get enough speed to get out anyways. Farmer, if he does get out, take care of him though." Farmer: "Will do, and I'm waiting about a half mile down the road." As I entered the showroom I could see lights down the hall. It was a door with a glass window that led into the service area. It seemed they had power in the garage, but not the rest of the dealership. I could hear the men yelling and the women crying as I approached. I crouched down as I slowly turned the knob to crack the door. To my left there were cars in the service stalls and I could hear the men talking on the other side of them. It appeared they were keeping the women in the access bays below ground under the cars. As I came out of the door I suddenly heard growling and screaming to my right in the parts cage, where there was at least three infected locked in and alerted to my presence. As soon as the infected started freaking out at my sight the men on the other side of the garage went quiet. I ran quickly to the cover of a large toolbox. I just barely made it before they started unloading in my direction. I was confident they didn't see me though as they were shooting at anything and everything. One of the men was slowly making his way towards the door I came through, and one of the other men asked him "You see anything?". The man locked the door I came through and replied "No, just these fucking infected". He turned back from locking the door just in time to see the bad end of my rifle as I sent a round right in his face. "Don? Don, you there?" one of the other men asked after hearing the suppressed rifle discharge. "Fuck this" another one of the men yelled as I heard him run out of the service entry. His friends yelled for him to stop but it was too late. The distant gunshot from Sarah's rifle told the story. "We give up" the men yelled. Me: "Set your guns down and walk out slowly with your hands up." One of the guys had to only be 16 years old, and the other was probably 40. Both were in decent shape and it was my guess they were father and son. Me: "Nice and slow boys." Son: "We don't want to hurt nobody, it was all the priest! That old shithead made us do things we didn't want." Father: "Robbie, shut your damn mouth." They started to argue as they inched closer to me. I approached slowly as well so I could have a full range of view on them. Me: "That's close enough. Keep coming my way and I'm going to shoot." The boy started to sob and kept edging his way towards me. Son: "We're not looking for trouble. We're cold, tired, hungry, and just want to get away from......" He jumped at me and grabbed the muzzle of my gun. He was too late though and I fired a round off right into his pelvis. Just as I did that his dad clobbered me right in the head, sending me to the ground and my rifle falling into one of the underground access bays. I instantly went for the Sig but the big angry 40 something lunged on top of me. He softened me up with a few quick jabs right in my eye, and slammed my hand into the ground forcing me to lose my grip on the Sig. It skidded to just a few feet away but as I scrambled for it the guy rolled us away in the opposite direction. His sin was bleeding excessively and whimpering. He started to turn obviously pale and was fading away from the injury. Father: "You're fucking dead!" I got mad. I no longer had to focus on keeping my handgun in control, so I wrapped my legs around the guy's lower torso and squeezed. I reached up as he was swinging again and latched my left hand on to his neck. I squeezed his windpipe so hard my finger tips hurt. "You fucked up" I said as I gritted my teeth and smiled. He kept swinging but I was able to deflect everything he was throwing at me so nothing was actually damaging me. I kept constant pressure like I was trying to roll him to my left. I jerked to the right before he could realize I had been faking him out and now I was on top and it was my turn. I was now just holding his neck down instead of squeezing as I rained punches down with my right hand as hard as I could. He was already bloody as hell but wouldn't stop trying. After a few more punches his head went limp. This was me at my worst. I could still see him breathing and that wasn't good enough. It just pissed me off and I kept hitting him harder....... "Please, stop and help us" I heard a few feet away moments later. It was the women in the access bay a few stalls down. At that point I snapped out of it and looked down to a sight I couldn't even recognize as a human anymore. The only facial feature I could make out was the mouth filled with blood, and the lack of movement in the man's chest. I collected my rifle from the access bay closest and gave it a quick look over for damage. My hands were so covered in blood I wondered if any of it was mine. I picked up and reholstered the Sig and headed back towards the door I came in. I figured I'll have Sarah let them out since I look like a savage. As I walked past the infected locked in the parts warehouse, they kept grumbling at me, but didn't stare me down nor try to escape to attack me. How fucking pathetic. They probably think I'm one of their own. I got close and lifted my Sig and pulled the trigger on each of them. They didn't even react as I shot them one by one. Sarah was coming in as I entered the showroom. Sarah: "Oh my god, are you okay? Me: "I'm fine. Go see what you can do for those women though." I sat in one of the offices while Sarah checked out the women. I felt pretty bad that I just killed a man's son in front of him, and then proceeded to beat him to death. It may have been in self defense and they may have deserved it, but if I do shit like that I might as well be infected. I didn't dare leave the office to face the women that watched, but overheard the stories of rape and murder the men had committed. Sarah mentioned the older man was a priest before all of this and was tied up in the bus with the gunshot wound I inflicted but still conscious. The women were happy to hear that and after a couple hours they were clothed, had the men's guns, and were leaving in brand new cars. Sarah finally came in with a med kit and a couple bottles of water. Sarah: "Are you okay?" Me: "Yeah." Sarah: "Can I check?" I shook my head and she cleaned off my face with an alcohol wipe. During the fight my eye had gotten ripped back open a little bit so she had to restitch a couple areas. She dumped rubbing alcohol on my hands and asked if it burned anywhere which it didn't. I finished cleaning them off with soap and bottled water and my knuckles were a little swollen but not much at all considering what I had just done. Me: "What are you going to do with the priest?" Sarah: "Farmer is setting up a noose. We're going to hang him. Not only did he rape those women, but he murdered their families as well. His men took them to town the past few days to use as slave labor to gather supplies. The girl he shot earlier, they made her loot her own house right in front of her parent's corpses. He's been airing over the radio trying to draw people in with his psycho babble. Turns out it's the same guy we always over heard back in Hahnsburg." That actually made me feel a bit better. I could tell the guy was fucked in the head with his crazy talk all that time ago, but now I started to feel a bit better about all of it. Maybe sometimes to beat the bad guy you have to be the worse guy. We walked the dealership and I knew right off the bat which vehicle we would be taking. It was a brand new Z71 Tahoe. It was jet black with tinted windows and aftermarket matte black wheels with some beefy tires. I was even happier when I opened it up to see black leather interior. Farmer approved, but I think mostly because it had an adjustable hitch and we could use the little trailer back at the farmhouse. Sarah seemed unsure saying it looked like something cheesy you would see in Mad Max. Well, at least until she tried out the heated seats. She was sold at that point. The only thing I didn't like was that the Raptor had an extra gas tank and held a bit more fuel than this one. Then again we could maintain our supplies longer through the winter, which is the goal. It took us awhile to get everything switched from the Raptor to the Z71, but luckily it all fit. No more worrying about frozen food! We took some ammo and bottled water from the dealership, siphoned some gas, and becuase it's bit me in the ass before, we pulled the tail light bulbs. As we pulled back on the highway in our brand new ride, a strong cold wind came through. Aside from our vehicle moving down the road, there was only one other object visibly moving. The body of the priest hung from the dealership awning. The rope creaking as his corpse swayed back and forth from the cold gust. |
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And I need to ask you guys a favor. I'm looking for ideas to rename it. I'm really not digging the current name for it. I want something a little darker sounding, but not blatantly dark if you know what I mean.
I applied for a copyright but when I get done with the story I might look into publishing it. So I need it to be catchy too, but I promise the story will finish out here before I even look into possibly publishing it. |
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Quoted:
..... They started to argue as they inched closer to me. I approached slowly as well so I could have a full range of view on them. Me: "That's close enough. Keep coming my way and I'm going to shoot." The boy started to sob and kept edging his way towards me. Son: "We're not looking for trouble. We're cold, tired, hungry, and just want to get away from......" He jumped at me and grabbed the muzzle of my gun........ "If you are going to shoot, SHOOT... Don't talk.... " 
Title: "The Road to Hell...." As in Road to Hell is paved with good intentions... Her virus was meant to help, and look how it turned out.... WDS |
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Quoted:
Quoted:
..... They started to argue as they inched closer to me. I approached slowly as well so I could have a full range of view on them. Me: "That's close enough. Keep coming my way and I'm going to shoot." The boy started to sob and kept edging his way towards me. Son: "We're not looking for trouble. We're cold, tired, hungry, and just want to get away from......" He jumped at me and grabbed the muzzle of my gun........ "If you are going to shoot, SHOOT... Don't talk.... "
Title: "The Road to Hell...." As in Road to Hell is paved with good intentions... Her virus was meant to help, and look how it turned out.... WDS Yup. One of the things I wanted to portray was ignorance and learning the hard way. So far our characters have had more trouble with the uninfected, but what's going to happen when they get out of the sticks? 
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# Chapter 15 - Party Over. Oops Out of Time.
We returned to the farm house just the way we left it. Farmer was excited with our vehicle choice, as he verified that the pull along trailer would work with the Tahoe. We could keep food and water inside the Z71, but clothing and extras could ride in the trailer. Score one for the good guys! Well, if we're still good. It's a changed world out there and goodness is gone. We still had quite a bit of gas in the reserve tank in the garage, so we decided to stick it out for a few days. Heat and running water were something we didn't soon expect to find anywhere else. Besides, New Years was coming up fast and Farmer demanded we stay so he could surprise us. After sleeping and eating junk food for way too long, New Years Eve was upon us. Farmer had been spending a lot of time in the garage and now he showed us why. He called us to the kitchen and presented us with a plate of massive steaks, mashed potatoes and gravy, and some epic green bean casserole. Holy fucking shit. I haven't eaten like this in years, and the fact we were grubbing this high of quality during the zombie'ish apocalypse? Fuckin' A'. Farmer: "I cleaned up the best looking one from the cattle out back. I figure if stuff does freeze in that trailer, we might as well use that to our advantage too." Me: "You're a good man Farmer." Sarah: "Quit making out and let's eat already." We gorged ourselves. I was miserable for at least an hour after we ate. We sat around and talked about life before the outbreak. Not our specific stories, but general stuff. What we missed. What we could never do again. Famous people and how we thought they would fare through this. After awhile Farmer went back to the kitchen. He reappeared with a bottle of El Jimador tequila. I was familiar with it, and personally thought it was the best budget tequila you could get. Farmer: "It's the only bottle of booze in the house. I think it will do the trick though. I just wish we had some limes." Me: "Do you wish you had a vagina too there Sally?" Farmer abruptly gave me the finger. Sarah: "I don't know. I hate tequila. Jose Cuervo and I don't get along." I went in to my spiel about how Jose Cuervo can't legally advertise itself as tequila in Mexico due to the agave purity, and how Jose was basically a scam for people who think it really is tequila. Me: "Try one shot. Worst case scenario you have a bad taste in your mouth for a couple minutes." Sarah: "Fine, but if I throw up it's going to be your responsibility to clean it up." Me: "Agreed." All three of us cheered to 2013 and threw our shots back. Surprisingly Farmer was the one to cough. Sarah actually seemed curious enough to do another shot, so we did. What better way to get the party started. For the next couple hours we proceeded to get a good buzz going. All three of our tolerances were next to nothing, with Farmer proving to be an absolute lightweight. We were drinking in the room at the back of the house where we had been sleeping and had the window covered pretty well so no light escaped. Someone would have to be pretty damn close to hear the muffled generator running, so we had no issues with all three of us getting drunk tonight. Farmer had passed out. He had maybe five shots and the shot glasses we had were definitely not filled to the top. Sarah and I sat and talked, and finally I had the nerve to ask what happened the day of the first dealership debacle. Sarah: "Don't ask. Just know that you better not die on me." Me: "Why would I?" Sarah: "Gizmo did. Gizmo died saving your life. Bless his heart. I hope there is a god and I hope he doesn't hold grudges against gay people or suicides like the bible says." Me: "How did he die?" Sarah: "While you were unconscious at the clinic, two infected came through the same windows the Reeds had broken out earlier. We never heard them come in. Gizmo was doing patrol rounds and came by your room. One of the infected was choking you while licking your face. Gizmo put a bullet in her on the spot, but not before the other infected tackled him and took a bite out of the skin from his forehead. I rounded the corner and the infected guy immediately focused his efforts on me. I didn't have the strength to hold him back. He tossed me around and next thing I knew I had my hands around his neck trying to keep him from biting me. Gizmo fired a shot and the infected man went limp. Farmer came inside just in time for Gizmo to point the gun at him and tell him to stay back. He ran off and we started to follow, but heard a single gun shot in the distance." She grabbed the bottle and took a healthy swig. Sarah: "He said you would keep me safe. Once you took that bullet for me, you had his respect. Him and I cleared the dealership while Farmer saved your life. Take your shirt off. I want to show you something." I hesitated but knew she was serious so I did. She pointed to just below my right peck at a tiny little scar I didn't know I had. Sarah: "That's where Farmer punched a hole to drain your lung." Me: "But what the......" I was interrupted abruptly by Sarah kissing me on the lips. I'll admit the thought of kissing her had crossed my mind multiple times, but I was caught off guard. Her long peck turned into our tongues wrestling together and I was in heaven. Happy fucking New Years! Just as I was about to progress to the next level we both jumped at the sound of the back door slamming open downstairs. We both froze and could instantly hear the wind howling through the house. Only one word managed to find it's way to my lips. "Fuck." |
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# Chapter 16 - Panic.
We couldn't get Farmer to wake up. I was a little upset, but I knew he'd be no help and waking him at this stage of drunkness would just get someone projectile vomitted on anyways. I set his rifle next to him hoping gunfire would wake him up if shit hit the fan. We put on our shoes and grabbed our guns. We decided to use our weapon lights rather than turn the house lights on. 300 or so lumens was hopefully enough to temporarily blind what ever made it's way in. We made our way down to the first floor. We were both shaking as the stairs creaked and gave away our presence. As the wind blew stuff around in the cold dark house I realized I was freaking out. Everything that moved drew the muzzle of my rifle and it took everything I had to keep calm and not pull the rock and roll throttle on my gun. Sarah bumped into me from behind by accident and I almost jumped through the ceiling. Sarah: "Doug, I'm scared. I might throw up." She was obviously still drunk, as was I. I still don't know how we managed to knock out a full bottle of tequila, but we did. Normally I wouldn't be passed out or throwing up, but I'd definitely be a bit more top heavy with more loss of motor skill. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Worst case scenario I'm sure the infected would run off like little girls if I puked up a half bottle of tequila in their faces. Me: "It's OK. What ever it is we'll take care of it." I rounded the living room into the dining room and looked down the hall that ran to the kitchen. No one so far so they had to be in the basement or in the kitchen, both of which were to the left of the hall. The basement door was still closed so I pied the kitchen and to my surprise no one was in it. The back door was still open and swaying in the wind. I turned off my light and slowly approached with Sarah walking backwards behind me in case someone, or something popped out from the basement. I looked outside and it was blowing snow something fierce. Not huge flakes, but the ones that were like miniature ice cubes that never really stuck to anything. Everything outside looked normal, so I closed the door and locked it. With any luck maybe Farmer just failed to get it shut all the way and the sound we heard was the wind blowing it open. There was still one place to check though. You would be amazed at the fear you feel going down open back stairs into a dark and damp basement with the possibility of there being a monster. Imagine that fear as a kid, and amplify it by a thousand times. I'm talking oh my fucking god little girl scared. I debated turning around and saying fuck it. We could drag Farmer and our belongings out and burn the fucking place down. The heat from the burning house could keep us warm through the night, right? Fuck me. As we went down the stairs I could hear Sarah's teeth chattering. It must be the booze as I figured normally she'd just walk down like she had a belt fed and unload with perfectly placed head shots. I rounded the corner of the stairs and the supply shelving blocked my view to the back corner of the basement. Just as I shined my light in the dim nook, that's when it showed it's ugly face. Me: "Oh fuck!" Sarah paniced when I fell backwards and dropped my rifle in the process. She instantly went violent and started unloading into the dark. As soon as she went to change her mag I yelled at her to stop. I lifted my hand to show her the dead spider that had attacked my face when I walked into it's web. I thought she was going to shoot me, but the house was clear for sure at least. Doh. We went back upstairs expecting Farmer to be shitting bricks. We let him know it was us coming and everything was fine. When we walked in the room the lush was still snoring his dumbass away. Sarah and I agreed that we had let our guard down and needed to have someone on watch. No more booze for Farmer anymore either. Ever. I elected myself for first watch and took my rifle and a blanket down to the living room couch. I needed to smoke a damn cigarette and chill out for a bit after all that anyways. I was shaking significantly and couldn't stand it. I did a check of all the doors and windows. I realized small town folks don't seem to lock anything which would explain the back door blowing open. The fields and road up to the house were clear and the cold snow still wasn't sticking, just building up in areas the wind blew it to. I was glad we got the Tahoe with out a doubt now. I sat there still kind of on edge until I remembered what I was doing before the freak out. I was actually making out with Sarah. I lit a cigarette feeling sorry for myself and went and looked out the windows again. I paced for a bit as my frustration grew. Then I remembered the wound on my chest Sarah pointed out that appeared to completely heal before I knew it was there. I laid back on the couch as my head filled with more questions. Just as I was putting out my cigarette in a pop can I heard the stairs creak behind me. I turned around and Sarah was coming down the stairs with a blanket wrapped around her. I sat up on the couch and she sat down right beside me and looked at me. Me: "Sarah, what's going on with me?" Instead of answering she leaned in and stuck her tongue in my mouth. She stopped just long enough to pull my shirt off, which left her nakedness exposed under the blanket she was wrapped in. The only thing she was wearing were some knee high socks. We made out and fondled eachother like teenagers for a bit. I laid back as she tugged my pants off, and next thing I knew I was on top of her. Before I could even comprehend that she ignored my question once again, I was inside of her rocking away. I had honestly never had sex feel so good. If bullets didn't wake Farmer up, hopefully we didn't either. I hoped she was on some kind of birth control, but it wasn't like I'd stop anyways. It had been so long I had to try holding back. The whole five minute thing, forget that. What a two pump chump I was... Damn. We laid there for about an hour after. I held her in my arms but neither of us really talked. Occasionally she would turn her head and look up at me and show her teeth in a big smile I never knew she was capable of. Who would have thought Ms. Cold Shoulder was a cuddler. Hopefully this wasn't just a major fuck up. Sarah: "Thank you." Me: "For what?" Sarah: "Everything. With out you I wouldn't be alive right now, physically or mentally. You keep your cool and I surely would have lost my sanity with out you here." Me: "Remember, you saved my life too." A look of sadness came over her face and she looked down and buried her face in my chest. She seemed to squeeze me as hard as she could at the same time. After a few moments, she finally replied. "It's not me you should thank. I only helped a little." I had an odd feeling come over me but I smiled as we both drifted off to sleep. Happy New Years. |