36 Hours (7 page)

The video feed of a camera crew who had stolen away to a farm—the smoke
rose from a nearby town, and infected could be seen walking the barren fields,
staggering towards the farm with no direction or goal—the only desire being
death. The reporter said the small town had virtually fal en, except for some
pockets of brief resistance and some who had cleverly hid from the attackers.

United States Army helicopters flying over suburban neighborhoods, spraying
gunfire down the American streets as infected littered to the horizon. The flash
of the guns mixed with the shards of blasted concrete, and the blood shed on the
ravaging beasts below. The helicopter pulled up over the street and one could
see a distant waterfront city burning. The screams were drowned, yet could still
be heard. The voices of the soldiers were shaky and insecure.

“The Army is involved,” Hannah breathed. “Maybe they’ll come for us.”

I ran over to the window, looked down on the empty street. “Maybe someone from the Air Force base…”

Les said, “They’re only Reserves. It isn’t stocked. It’s probably fallen.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Fine. Sacked then. It’s sacked. But it probably isn’t safe.”

“Maybe,” I said, “if we get to the roof, we can wave our hands and call for help.”

“How will that help? It’ll only attract attention.”

“Attention from the soldiers.”

“We don’t even know if there
are
soldiers. It’s a lost cause.”

Hannah stared at the screen. “It’s hard to believe.”

Yeah it was. My peaceful morning had turned into a nightmare. “We can’t expect help.”

A reporter stood before the television and said, “No one really knows how this
disease—if it
is
a disease—is spread. But we do know that those who are
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attacked
become
like the attackers. Many people who die during these attacks
become these animals that are killing. It is the belief of many that it is merely
psychological. For others, they see it as biological. The Army is dwindling, as
many of its members are becoming infected themselves throughout the battles in
the towns and neighborhoods and cities. It is as if Hell has risen from the depths
and is consuming those who touch its power. Generous grandmothers are
killing their grandchildren; their grandchildren are killing their parents; the
parents are killing the neighbors; and those killed become just as terrible, if not
worse. The disease is spreading.”
Those words were haunting:
the disease is
spreading
.

I went back into the bathroom. Out the window, the infected were crawling around in the neighbor’s yard. They had pinned a little Chihuahua who was yapping away. I turned my head as they closed in on it. The television still whined.

“We urge all of you who are still safe—still alive—to get somewhere safe. The
infected do not touch the water, and if you can get out onto a lake or in a river
or on the ocean, you will not, if their traits do not change, become a victim. But
please know that all the major islands of the ocean, from Hawaii to the
Philippines, are fighting just as hard against the outbreak. The entire world is
fighting—and losing. If you cannot reach any bodies of water, we desperately
urge you to lock yourselves in your homes, offices, in your cars, or get away.
Protect your family. And if someone---even a friend or family member—

contracts the following symptoms, kill them and/or escape: these symptoms are
purplish swelling of the skin, sinking eyes, folding lips, discoloration of the eyes
and teeth, a hunched posture, and, psychologically, fluctuating emotions raging
from amazingly passionate to gruesomely vicious before death. None have been
known to go through the symptoms and win against it; you must get away.

Les scratched his chin. “This is unbelievable. This can’t be happening.”

I croaked under my breath, “Worldwide? This is happening everywhere?”

Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia… Everywhere. No place was safe. Spring Falls and its little counterpart Clearcreek, Ohio were crumbling before our eyes. Our friends and brothers turned into beasts from Hell, and we could only pray we weren’t next on this terrible hit-list.

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The reporter flickered out to a camera feed from a barren, undisclosed location.
A man in a black suit frowned into the camera, asking if he was on. After some
muffled nods, he said into the camera, “This is Homeland Security Advisor
Richard Lakota. What I am about to tell you has been put together over the last
few hours as a survival guide and contains information based solely on what we
currently know at this time.

“We do not know where the infections originated from, though we are
estimating the point of origin to be somewhere near the equator, since the
spread began in areas such as South America and Africa. Cases of ‘unknown’

illnesses have been filed over the last couple weeks, sparse, and not until now
have they been severe. Doctors stating these cases say the symptoms are
reminiscent of Epiglottitis, a disease found most often in young children.

“Symptoms to look out for are as follows:” He held up a slip of paper and
began to read it methodically. “In the face, there is a bluish-gray pastiness. The
blood has thickened and veins are partially visible through lucent flesh. The
eyes lack depth; the eye socket is somewhat sunken due to physiological
reformation, resulting in a fixed stare. Dark rings directly below the eyes give
subject an exhausted appearance, and the eyes have turned yellow due to the
decaying of rods and cones, and have sunken into the sockets. In the mouth
there is a visible thickness of tongue and darkening of the gum tissue, and there
is an overly amount of drooling due to excessive salivary production; we believe
the venom is passed through the saliva and into the bloodstream via the bites. In
the chest the organs can somewhat be seen due to a thinning epidural layer
above the rib cage. Dark, subcutaneous lesions can often be seen running along
the arms and legs of the victims, then slowly to the rest of the body. The flesh of
victims slowly takes on a purple haze and often excretes hormones in body oils.
The reason for this is not known.

“The amount of time until an infected person dies and reanimates depends on
the size of the bite and its closeness to a major artery. One to five minutes after
all vital systems end, reanimation occurs, and the subject will react with
homicidal aggression. DO NOT GO NEAR ANY REANIMATED HUMANS. It is
unclear whether or not this disease can be passed to animals.

“The infected menacing society are clinically ‘dead’. The ‘turn’ only occurs
after their passing. Reanimation is caused by the virus overtaking the dead
brain and revitalizing it via electrical impulses, which bring to surface primal
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instincts and some decaying unconsciousness. This causes them to take on non-
humane and unethical traits. The infected exhibit no signs of emotional
response or memory of their former life.
Do not be lulled by the concept that they are family members or friends:
the person you knew is dead. The virus will
not reanimate until the host has clinically died.

“An infected can only be neutralized by destroying the brain; this can be done
by piercing or cutting or decapitation. Firearms are the most effective weapons
against reanimates. If none are available, improvise a weapon sturdy enough to
pierce the skull or sharp enough to sever the head completely. Always aim for
soft entry points: ear canal, eye socket, nostril, mouth, or underneath the chin.”

Les walked over to me. “Chris King left, remember? Didn’t you get
him
in the head?”

“No,” I said. “I pierced his neck. Not his head.”

He glanced at the door. “The man you hurt with the tool, he’s still there. I think it’s because you pierced the brain.”

“He didn’t get up?”

“He’s still lying there.”

“What to expect if bitten: depending on the severity of the bite, it may be
seconds, minutes or hours before the victim ‘turns,’ succumbing to infection and
reanimating. The virus travels in the saliva excreted during the bites; it is
rumored to have to do with all body fluid, but THE DANGER IS ONLY IN THE

BITE. If someone you know is bitten, immediately restrain and gag the victim
securely before they lose consciousness. If uncertain, you will be able to see the
symptoms before the victim loses unconsciousness unless they were killed in the
biting attack. Once the victim reanimates, he or she must immediately be killed.
If it is a friend or family member, do not hesitate – they are gone. Only the virus
remains.

“If you yourself have been bitten, it is no question that you are infected. A
BITE IS A DEATH SENTENCE. If you are bitten and become reanimated, you
will not only be a danger to all those near and dear, but an active contributor to
the global plague. Whether or not you will be able to experience reanimation is
unknown; some believe you exist on a much more primitive level, and others
believe the infected are dead to themselves, the souls having passed to the
hereafter. If you are religious, your friends and family are most likely NOT IN

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ANY WAY the reanimated. Nevertheless, if you have been bitten, the resolution
is yours to decide. We recommend you take your own life, but this is entirely up
to you.”

Les ran a hand through oily hair. “I can’t…”

Hannah eye-balled us. “What are we going to do?”

Did I have an answer? Did Les have an answer?

“Federal and State authorities stress the need to stay calm. They are urging
respect for law and order. As quickly as you can, get off the streets, get into
your homes, lock your doors and stay away from the windows. The federal
agencies will be moving into troubled areas, it is just a matter of time; as you
know, reserve units have been called up and are being sent to troubled spots in
America. This is a minor, containable situation expected to be resolved in 24

hours or less. State and local authorities, also, are urging neighborhoods to
form clean and sweep teams to overcome any infected and down them
immediately with a direct impact to the brain.”

“That’s why Dylan was called up,” Hannah breathed.

“Dylan was called up?” Dylan is Andrea’s brother; he’s been in the reserve for a few years, recently got back from Iraq – I wonder how things were holding up in Baghdad? By the look of earlier scenes, not too well.

Throbbing echoes of an airplane careening overhead. A few moments, then it was gone. Fleeting.

“What if this lasts forever?” Les breathed.

I shook my head. “No way. No way.”

The reporter continued talking, but then there were screams in the background.
The camera-man swiveled around just in time to catch the doorway spilling
infected; people ran this way and that, knocking over equipment, hollering,
crying. The infected charged a woman and knocked her down, biting at her
savagely, tearing flesh. An artery broke, and blood sprayed against the camera.
She screamed as an infected business-man gouged out her eye; they ripped off
her head and the screams stopped. An infected rushed the camera, it fell, and
static. The screen changed, showing a harried news-anchor in what was the
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CNN News Broadcasting Station. Tears rolled down his face as he said, “I’ve
just been informed that we and all other stations will be switching to the
Emergency Broadcasting System. God bless you.”

The screen instantly changed to a grayish background with a yellow triangle plastered over it; resting over the triangle were three bold letters, EBN; underneath the letters was the simple yet horrifying transcription: Emergency Broadcast System.

I can’t tell you how long we gawked at that screen, the length of time—

eternity, forever, never-ending torture. I guess each and every one of us had things going through our minds. I don’t know what Les felt, or Hannah, or anyone else who happened to stumble upon a television, but I know that for the first time I realized how terribly pinned we were, how far from escape we had come, how, as we cowered inside the stout home on 25 Rosebud Avenue, how mercilessly close to death we were. And how our world was crashing. I could think only of one thing. We couldn’t expect help. The United States was floundering, from coast to coast, Atlantic to the Pacific, from the border on Mexico and the Gulf of Mexico to the icy wind-falls of Canada. I could imagine terror—nightmares—in Las Vegas, San Francisco, Chicago, New Orleans, New York City. And then England was gone. All of Europe was waist-high in the swarming waters. Africa was being swept up in the tornado, and I imagined the densely-populated Asia, Australia, Japan and the Philippines were sinking like a stone in the sea. And here we were, in the small, unknown Spring Falls, Ohio, a Friday morning school day transformed into a bloody cascade of will verse fate. Les turned off the television, knocking me out of my morbid trance.

“Hannah’s right. We can’t just hole up here. The TV said this was happening all over the place. There isn’t any help coming.”