Apocalypse Z Page 2

  “But how? What do I do?” Amy asked, clinging to her mother’s hand, aware how clammy her skin felt. How hot.

  “Stay here until Alex arrives. It’ll be a few days at most. There is enough food and water to last you a couple of weeks, and there’s fuel in the generator if the power goes off.”

  “I don’t want to wait here all alone,” Amy protested. “What if those things come here?”

  “You’ll be safe. The farm is isolated, and the fence will keep them out. All you need to do is be careful.”

  “What about you?” Amy asked, tears burning her eyelids.

  “Very soon, I’ll turn into one of those things. A monster. I can’t let that happen.” Amy’s mom gripped her elbow and led her downstairs to the living room. She pushed Amy into a chair. “Wait here.”

  Amy sat on the edge of the couch, tugging at the worn material with nervous fingers. She gazed around the room. This was her home. What would it be like without her parents? She couldn’t imagine it. “This isn’t happening. It can’t be. Dad will come home, and Mom…she’ll be fine. It’s just a small bite mark.”

  But Amy knew she was kidding herself, telling a lie that even she couldn’t believe. Not after everything she’d seen on tv. The internet. In town.

  Her mother returned from the basement with a shotgun, a Glock 43, and a box full of ammunition. She handed the shotgun and ammo to Amy. “I took this out of the safe. You’ll need it. Don’t go anywhere without it, okay?”

  Amy nodded, unable to reply. The gun was heavy, the steel barrel cold to the touch, but she was used to it. Her father had taught her to shoot from a young age, and she’d spent many a day out in the woods hunting birds and small game. She was proficient with both the 12 gauge pump-action shotgun and her dad’s .303, but he’d taken that with him when he left.

  On autopilot, she checked that the gun was fully loaded with the safety on. As per regulation, it only took three shells, so it would be better to carry a pistol as well for backup. The action soothed her anxiety somewhat and reminded her that she could defend herself. She wasn’t just some wallflower in need of rescuing. She glanced at her mother who bustled around with nervous energy. “So, what now?”

  “Lie low, keep the windows and doors shut, and wait for Alex. Last we spoke, he was only two or three days out depending on the road conditions. He’ll know what to do when he gets here.”

  “Alright.”

  “There’s a first-aid kit in the linen cupboard if you need it,” her mom said, fiddling with the porcelain figurines on the mantelpiece. “And the keys to my car are on the board in the kitchen next to the safe keys. There’s cash in the safe too. It might not help much, but who knows.”

  “Okay.” The word sounded dull and lifeless, much like Amy did herself.

  Her mom stopped fidgeting and turned to face her. “Oh, my child. I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I wish I could take it all away, but I can’t. You have to be strong now. You and Alex…you have to live. For your dad and me. For us.”

  Amy swallowed on the knot that had formed in her throat, her voice thick when she spoke. “I’ll try.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Come here, sweetheart. We need to say goodbye.”

  Amy jumped up and ran into her mother’s waiting arms, the embrace bittersweet. The wall that was holding back her tears burst, and she sobbed in earnest, not caring that she was messing all over her mom’s dress. “I’m gonna miss you, Mom. So much.”

  “I know, sweetheart, but I’ll always be with you. Always,” her mother whispered.

  “I love you,” Amy said.

  “I love you too. Forever and always.”

  After a long time, they pulled apart, and Amy watched her mom walk upstairs, pistol in hand. When the shot rang out, her knees gave in. She collapsed to the floor, and curled into a ball, mourning her loss with wracking sobs that threatened to rip her apart. This was it. The moment when everything changed.

  ***

  Amy shook her head to clear the memory. She had to concentrate. There was still so much to do. With a grunt of effort, she dragged her mother’s body into the shallow grave she’d dug.

  The corpse was wrapped in linen. She didn’t want to look at her mother’s dead face again, her skull deformed by the pistol shot. It had been bad enough cleaning the mess in her parent’s bathroom, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to set foot inside it again. No. She wanted to remember her mom as she used to be. Warm, loving, and beautiful. A shining light who welcomed all into her heart and home with open arms.

  Taking up the shovel, Amy closed the grave one spadeful of earth at a time. She winced when the fresh blisters on her palms burst but kept at it. Her blood dripped onto the ground. An offering. A final farewell. “Goodbye, Mom. I’ll always love you. Say hi to dad for me.”

  After saying a prayer, Amy walked to the house with the shotgun slung across her back. The sun was setting, its golden rays fading to mauve on the horizon. Night was falling, and with it would come the darkness. “I’d better be ready for it.”

  Chapter 3 - Alex

  For the umpteenth time, Alex tried to call his mother. Nothing. It went straight to voicemail. Ever since the shit hit the fan, reception had been spotty. He glanced up and down the street, aware that his uniform was attracting attention. That was the last thing he wanted, especially at a time like this.

  When he first heard about the outbreak, he thought it was a joke. So did his army buddies. But when they were dispatched to deal with a particularly violent riot, he got to see firsthand what they were up against. It wasn’t pretty.

  Even now, the memory was enough to give him nightmares. He’d seen things that couldn’t be explained. Horrifying things: A mother attacking her own children. A man getting back to his feet after a fellow soldier emptied half a magazine into his chest. People eating people.

  It didn’t take long to figure out they weren’t human anymore. They felt no pain, didn’t get tired, didn’t sleep, and couldn’t be reasoned with. They were dead. Only now, death was no longer the end. It was just the beginning.

  At first, he did his duty and followed orders. He believed, as they all did, that the outbreak could be stopped and the zombie menace eradicated. He was wrong. Within days, millions were infected. Key installations fell to the undead hordes, major cities burned, and the infrastructure began a slow collapse beneath the strain. It wasn’t long before he made up his mind to leave. His family needed him. He wasn’t the only one, either. A bunch of other soldiers had the same idea. It was every man for himself now.

  That didn’t mean he wouldn’t get into trouble if caught, however. The army was still very much the army. A stickler for the rules and they did not tolerate deserters.

  Alex ignored the curious glances of onlookers and ducked into an alleyway. After making sure it was empty, he pressed dial on his phone again. “Come on, Mom. Answer.”

  The phone rang and after a few seconds, connected. “Alex? Is that you?”

  “Mom! Yes, it’s me.” Relief flooded his veins.

  “Oh, thank goodness. I was so worried. Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? I’ve been watching the news, and it’s just terrible. All those units falling. I was scared you were one of them.”

  “No, Mom. I’m still here, alive. Promise.”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “In Kansas City, Missouri. I left the army,” he replied.

  “Why?” she asked with a gasp.

  “Because, I’m coming home, Mom. You guys need me. After what I’ve seen, this is not going to blow over,” he explained.

  “Are you sure? Won’t you get into trouble?” she asked.

  “Not if I’m careful,” he replied. “What about you guys? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, sweetie. I don’t know how to say this, but your dad…your dad’s gone.”

  “Gone? What do you mean gone?” he asked, a sense of dread settling on his shoulders.

  “He went to town for supplies and never returned. But that’s not all, sweetie. I…I went myself this morning to look for him, and I was attacked.”

  Alex’s blood ran cold. “Don’t say it, Mom. Please, don’t.”

  “I was infected, Alex. That man bit me,” she said, confirming his worst fears.

  A long silence ensued as neither knew what more to say. A knot formed in Alex’s throat, and he swallowed hard to contain his grief. “What…what about Amy?”

  “Amy’s fine for now, but she needs you. When can you get here?”

  “It’s a seven hour drive from here to Louisville, give or take, but with the road conditions, I’d say a day or two. Maybe three.”

  “Well, she should be okay until then. She’s got food, water, and the shotgun.”

  “What about you?” he asked, though he didn’t really want to know the answer.

  “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it. Just make sure you get here. Amy needs you. She’s too young to survive on her own.”

  “I know. I’m on my way.”

  “Promise me, Alex,” she said, her voice hardening. “I need to know you’ll keep your promise, no matter what.”

  “I swear it, Mom. I’ll protect Amy. No matter what.”

  His mother sighed, her voice breaking on her next words. “I love you, sweetheart. Never forget that.”

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  She hung up, and for a long time, Alex stared at the phone in his hands. Grief and loss weighed heavy on his heart, turning it into a block of ice. In the span of one single phone call, he’d lost nearly his entire family. He knew what his mom was planning. He’d heard it in her voice.

  After a while, Alex s
traightened his shoulders and shouldered his rucksack, conscious that time was running out. He needed to get back home before something happened to Amy.

  He stepped out of the alley and merged with the crowd of people flocking the street. They were all of one mind. To gather as many supplies as they could. At least, most of them. Some were more interested in looting riches and settling petty scores. That much was evident by the sound of screaming and breaking glass.

  It amazed him that so many seemed unaware of the seriousness of the situation. Evidence of the outbreak was everywhere, though it had yet to hit them full force. Police vans rushed past with their wailing sirens. Ambulances tried to cope with the growing number of casualties and failed. Numerous car crashes blocked narrow roads, and the traffic was hell.

  Alex quickened his step but paused when he spotted a clothing shop. He ducked inside and grabbed a few things. The harassed cashier rang up the items and accepted the handful of crumpled dollar bills Alex threw at him. He’d taken the time earlier to withdraw all his savings and carried a thick wad of cash around. He took care to hide it, aware that even now people would kill for so much money.

  “What are you still doing here?” he asked the cashier.

  The guy shrugged. “I need the job.”

  “You know there are zombies out there, right?”

  “That’s what I’ve got this for,” the cashier said, pulling a revolver out of the back of his pants.

  Alex tried and failed to look impressed. He’d seen up close what the zombies could do, and one gun wouldn’t cut it. People needed to band together and hole up in fortified positions if they were to stand any chance at all. Not that the cashier would believe him, that much was clear from the guy’s attitude.

  “Can I use your change room?” he asked instead.

  “Sure, man. Whatever,” the cashier replied.

  Alex rushed into the nearest cubicle and stripped off his uniform. Much as it had served him in the past, now it was a liability. He pulled on the jeans, t-shirt, and jacket he’d chosen, but kept his army belt and boots. They were too useful to ditch. Onto the belt, he hung his standard issue Beretta M9 in its holster plus a sheath carrying his combat knife. After folding up his uniform, he tucked it into his rucksack next to his other belongings and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

  This time, he blended right into the crowd when he stepped onto the curb. To them, he was just another civilian out to grab what he could. Alex had a different goal in mind, though. He needed transport, and he needed it in a hurry.

  Kansas City was still holding it together, but barely. Vehicles from the National Guard drove around, announcing that a safe zone had been set up just outside the city limits. They were encouraging people to go there, and Alex supposed it was the best option for most civilians unable to defend themselves. It wasn’t for him, however.

  After jogging three blocks, the sign of a second-hand motorcycle dealership caught his eye. “Exactly what I need.”

  He angled across the street, jumping to the side to avoid getting hit by a sedan. It raced past, and he caught sight of the frightened faces of a couple of kids in the backseat. In the distance, he heard the muffled pops of gunshots followed by wild screams. It had to be an outbreak. The city was going to the dogs, and he had better hurry.

  Alex entered the dealership seconds later and was surprised to find the owner dawdling behind his desk. The poor guy didn’t appear to have a clue, even when Alex warned him worse was to come. “You should go home to your family. It’s getting crazy out there.”

  “And miss out on a sale?” the guy scoffed. “This will all blow over soon, mark my words. They’ve dispatched the army, for crying out loud.”

  Alex shook his head in disbelief, but he didn’t have time to argue. Not unless he wanted to be trapped inside the exposed shop with its three glass walls and a lone idiot for company. Instead, he rushed around the showroom and inspected the bikes on offer. Quickly, he made his choice.

  “I want that one,” he said, pointing at a Suzuki V-Strom 1000 ABS. The bike had two saddlebags attached to the sides for storage, and the previous owner had equipped it with dirt tires. It was perfect for both on and off-road use, which was exactly what Alex wanted. He couldn’t afford to get stuck in the bumper to bumper traffic.

  After a minute of fierce haggling, Alex paid with the last of his cash. The deal included a full tank of fuel plus two jerry cans extra which he tied onto the back seat. He also got to pick out a helmet, gloves, and a leather jacket for protection.

  He transferred his belongings to the panniers: A canteen of water, a basic first-aid kit, a couple of MRE’s, extra ammunition, a toothbrush, and fresh socks and underwear. He had to ditch his uniform, however. No space. His M4A1 carbine went onto his back with the sling across his chest.

  Satisfied, he climbed onto the bike and started the engine. It roared to life, and he revved it with an experimental twist of the wrist. “She’s got power, alright. Just what I need.”

  He shot the owner a quick salute, ready to take off. “Thanks.”

  “What about the paperwork and registration?” the owner cried, wringing his hands together.

  “I’ll be back for it,” Alex said, the lie sliding off his tongue like silk.

  “You can’t do that!”

  “Watch me.”

  Before the owner could stop him, Alex pointed the bike at the exit and zipped out of the building onto the street. The bike was fast and responsive. As he weaved through the traffic with smooth precision, Alex found himself grinning with pure pleasure. Nothing could stop him now. He’d be back home in no time at all. “Hold on, Amy. I’m coming, sis.”

  Chapter 4 - Dylan

  “What do I do now, Ben?” Dylan asked in a low whisper. She shifted around on the rough crate she sat on, trying to get comfortable. It was impossible. The crate wasn’t meant for sitting or comfort. Not that it mattered in the face of what had befallen her. She was going to die anyway.

  Ben shook his head, unable to comfort her. “I don’t know.”

  A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, but other than that she felt numb. “I knew I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve stayed at home.”

  “I’m sorry.” He got up and paced around the room, avoiding the stacked pallets of supplies around them. The dull thuds of the infected beating on the door had grown distant, like something from another world.

  “To think I got bitten because of that stupid cart,” Dylan said, giving the offending object an angry kick. “I should’ve let it go. Instead, I came all this way to die for a few bottles of water and a couple of cans of tuna. I don’t even like tuna!”

  “It’s crazy,” Ben agreed, his shoulders sagging with defeat. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  “I know.” Dylan glanced back at the way she came. “At least, you saved me from being eaten and becoming one of those things straight away. Now, I can go out on my own terms.”

  Ben glanced at the gun on her hip. “I suppose it’s better to go by your own hand than…”

  He trailed off, and Dylan shuddered. She knew what he meant. They both knew what awaited her, and it wasn’t pretty. Her thoughts wandered back over the past few weeks and how it all began.

  It started as an internet rumor, circulating on the web via a series of posts, videos, and chatroom threads. There was a health alert in the Congo, North Africa. Something about an outbreak in Brazzaville. Like many, she didn’t believe it, writing it off as fake news. Then it aired on the news, hitting all the big channels in a row. By then, it was too late.

  Within days, half of the world’s population were sick. Once infected, patients grew increasingly ill with flu-like symptoms. They continued to work and travel, spreading the infection until forced to seek medical care.

  The hospitals and medical centers overflowed as doctors sought to treat them. None survived. Within seventy-two hours, the virus ran its course, killing the host only to reanimate the corpse minutes later.

  Those that didn’t succumb initially were killed by those that did — ripped apart by the monsters that used to be their family, friends, and colleagues. Minutes later they rose from the dead, turned into monsters as well. If bitten but not killed outright, like Dylan, you had time. Seventy-two hours, give or take.