Day One (Book 1): Alive (12 page)

“And how long do you think you’ll last out here in the opening? Especially with night quickly approaching,” she asked me.

I looked toward the West to see the sun slipping closer to the horizon, and then glanced around at the two motionless things on the ground. The container was more secure than a tent would be and it was full of guns and supplies. I would have to be a complete idiot to stay outside. My way wasn’t logical… her’s was.

“Maybe you’re right.”

We moved into the container and the Young Woman stood near the door a few moments scanning the woods for any more of those things. When she was satisfied that there were no more, she shut the door and locked them.

A special metal bar, the width of the door slide down into two  clasps and kept the door from being opened, as well as made it more sturdy. Three containers total made up the small encampment. Two sat long ways and the third connected with the front of the first container and headed east. Each container had been setup for a specific purpose. The rear most container was where the Young Woman slept. The one in front was where she lounged, kind of like a living room with a long workbench and her armory of weapons. The last container was where she would cook and eat, which had a one foot hole cut in the roof, sealed and topped with a metal chimney that kept wind and rain from coming down into the cooking area. In each room there was a two foot by two foot window cut out and covered with a metal shutter on a tract that could be opened or closed at will and silently. Plexiglas filled the openings and added to the overall security of the small fortress.

I’d placed Kember on the couch with a few of her toys; she was still asleep, and returned to the Young Woman. “Now, as I was trying to say earlier before all of this shit happened. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or hurt your feelings in anyway. You
did
go out of your way to save her and I and I’m very thankful for that.”

“I don’t like this anymore than you do, but it’s happened and we have to deal with it the best way we can. The world isn’t what it used to be, which means that we cannot act as we use to. We have to be aggressive now and show no mercy… those things will kill you in a heartbeat and don’t give a shit weather you’re a daddy or not. They’ll kill her as well, because they don’t feel sorrow or pity.” She dropped the magazine from the SBR and cleared the chamber, putting the single round back into the magazine before giving it a quick tap on the palm of her hand to seat the rounds to the rear, allowing them to feed better.

“Can you please tell me what is going on?” I asked, figuring, or at least hoping, I would get an honest answer. “How are dead people up and moving around?”

“All I know is that eight days ago the C-D-C issued a statement over the air about a potential virus that had somehow entered America and was spreading rapidly. Three days later hospitals were far beyond what they could handle, people were dying in the streets and the police force couldn’t keep up. The military stepped in and began setting up those containment areas – you were so adamant about getting too – in order to quarantine those that showed up for help, asses what their state of mind was and go from there.”

I picked a direction I thought was the right way and pointed. “Like the one we were on the way to find, but never did?”

“Exactly,” she said. “Only problem was, the higher powers knew that the virus could not be contained so they did what they thought was the next best thing to stopping it. If there is no one to get infected, then the virus has nowhere to go and dies.”

“What about those things, I mean I thought they were just crazies until I saw those two out there.” Still I couldn’t believe what I had seen. “They were dead, I’m sure of that, but they were up and moving around… how is that possible?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a virus expert.”

“I’ve never heard of a virus that makes dead people come back to life… that’s science fiction shit right there.” I shoved the pistol down the front of my pants. “Besides, how would all those dead folks dig themselves up? There has to be several hundred pounds of dirt on top of them.”

“I don’t think any of them were buried before all this started.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked and moved closer.

“Did you not get a good look at any of them?” she asked. “They were all wearing clothes that were far from what a person would be buried in. Then there’s the fact that they had their mouths open and their eyes as well.”

I didn’t understand where she was going. “So.”

“When you die they seal your eyes shut, unless you’re an organ donor, in which case your corneas are removed, so there’s no need to seal them then. After that they sow your eyelids together as well as wire your jaw and mouth closed. And then there’s the obvious ‘Y’ incision they make at an autopsy to open you up… and none of those things out there had that mark or wired jaws. There mouths were open with no tearing.”

“Then how are they becoming undead or whatever you want to call them?”

“The best I can gather is that they were infected at some point or another – when they were alive, which probably killed them – although I’m not clear how,” she stated and picked up another magazine that was loaded.

“You mean like some sort of testing done on the bodies after they died or were dying?” I asked and focused on her intently waiting for an answer.

She looked at me with her clear blue eyes. “It’s not just the ones that were dead to start with. I’ve seen several people that were once alive and well, which are now roaming around out there like those I killed earlier.”

It was horrific to hear. To think that one minute you could be very much alive and well, and then the next minute you were one of those things roaming around in the darkness looking for someone to kill. “So you’re saying that even we are at risk of this… whatever it is?”

She nodded her head.

“How do you become one of them?” I asked.

“That’s where I am completely lost. I’ve never actually seen what happens to someone to change them, but a few of the people that I once knew that are now undead, were attacked. I barely made it out alive… two days later I found them like those two out there…dead and roaming aimlessly around.”

I suddenly looked down at my bandaged arm; the horror of the truth hit me like a ton of bricks. I think somewhere deep down I always knew that the bite was symbolic to how all of this started in the first place. How else would a virus spread so quickly, yet only affect some people and leave others untouched. I looked over at the Young Woman to see her looking back at my wound as well. The fear of her shooting me filled my thoughts and I wanted to reach for the pistol in my waistband, although doing so would easily be a sign of aggression she might not take kindly to. Thoughts of what my Daughter and Son would do without me flushed everything else from my mind. I was more concerned about them and the very real possibility of that happening filled my eyes. “I’m going to become one of those things – hell I already am.”

“No you’re not,” she said.

“One of those things bit me… that’s how you become one, it has to be. It’s the only logical way unless we are all infected and it’s just a matter of time.”

“Calm down. There’s no need to get all worked up over nothing.”

“Nothing?” I asked, showing her my arm. “We already know what happens when you’re attacked, you even said so yourself!” I held my wounded arm, the thought of shooting myself surfaced. “That’s pretty fucking conclusive if you ask me!”

She crossed the floor and grabbed my arm. A large knife came into view and she flipped the blade open.

“What are you doing?” I asked, feeling the need to grab the pistol.

“Proving to you that you’re not going to change.” The knife was poised to cut through the bandage at my permission. I blinked my eyes shut expecting her to cut my arm off, yet after several seconds of pressure near the wound, I opened my eyes to see the bandage in her hand. “Look at it.”

“I don’t want to see it disfigured!”

“Look at your damn arm!” she demanded.

I did as she instructed to see nothing wrong with my arm at all. The visible bite mark was still there, although it was healing very nicely and would more than likely not leave any kind of a scar.

“Whatever is making them turn doesn’t take weeks… it takes hours,” she said.

“Hours?” I asked shyly, feeling my shattered life began to reform.

“Yes, hours.” Her tone settled. “So whatever this is, it hasn’t caused you to turn and more than enough time has passed, so you’re going to be just fine.”

“You just found me last night.” I argued.

“You and your daughter have been here for three days now. You’ve been passed out most of that time while I tended to you and her.”

I looked deep into her eyes searching for any hint of a lie drifting in the majestic blue center. I watched as she carefully put the bandage back around my arm with minimal pain and tightened it up as good as she could. There was no puss and very little infection, if any, remained.

“The antibiotics seem to be working, there’s hardly any infection left. I’ll rewrap it in a few minutes.” She looked into my eyes. “What did you do when this first happened?”

“I doused rubbing alcohol on it and followed it with several gallons of peroxide. It bubbled for what seemed like an hour before it stopped. After that I bandaged it, putting some antibacterial stuff on the wound and bandage.”

“That very well saved your life,” she responded and smiled. “But I’m sure it hurt like hell.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

“If I wasn’t, you’d be one of those things and I would have put you down a long time ago.”

I was sure that she would have. There was no doubt in my mind about that.

“Thanks… I guess.”

“Keep taking the antibiotics and I’ll see about getting you some more.” She turned and went into the next container where the cooking was done. I watched her leave and when she was no longer in sight I pulled one of the painkillers from my pocket and popped it in my mouth. A bottle of water was on the workbench, which I grabbed and downed, all the while thinking furiously about what my future held. She could be wrong about the time needed to turn or it could vary from person to person. There was no exact science to any of this, not any that I could see anyway. So I had to keep my guard up and watch for any symptoms that may or may not arise in the next coming days…
if
I lived that long.

“Are you hungry?” she asked from the other container. Quickly I felt his stomach growl.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am.”

“Get your daughter and both of you come in here and get something to eat. I have enough for us all.”

We sat at a small hand-made table and ate in quiet, both of us occasionally said something to Kember, as she played wither food and eventually ate it all. Afterward I put Kember on the couch and covered her with a light blanket, kissed and hugged her, then left to go see what the Young Woman was up too.

I found her in the first container at the workbench silently working on the evil SBR she had used to kill the two things, which were about to kill me. I watched her from afar for a few moments, not wanting to bother her, yet amazed and curious about what she was doing. She meticulously tore the weapon apart and was in the process of cleaning it.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“As a matter of fact, there is. Come here for a moment.”

She rose as I strode up beside her and she handed me a different SBR. “Take it.”

I took the weapon and gave it a quick once over before handing it back to her, which she shook her head. “Shoulder it.”

I took the weapon and put the stock into my shoulder, looked through the red dot sight and locked on to one of the hanging candles at the far end of the container. It was light weight and felt comfortable in my hands. I had seen earlier what it was capable of doing and was impressed that something so small could be so devastating. It had a ten and a half inch barrel, a sleek free float rail made of alien metal of some sort, a muzzle break to help keep the barrel on target even during sustained fire, a single point attachment on the upper rail that would allow me to wear it close and conceal it well like she had. It was a wonderful piece of hardware and given different circumstances would make a perfect defense weapon for home or in your car.

“I like it, it’s compact and light. Probably easy to move with and no doubt easy to conceal,” I said and handed it back to her once more.

“Hang on to it.”

“I’m not taking your rifle. I have a few guns of my own.”

She pulled another SBR up where I could see it. “I have several to choose from, so hang on to that one.”

She pulled a chest rig from the wall in front of her and got up to help put it on me. She slid it over my head and quickly snapped the clasps into place. From there she put six fully loaded, thirty round, magazines into the pouches on my chest. Took the gun from my waist and slid it into a chest holster and stepped back with a smile upon her face. “How does it feel?”

“Comfortable actually,” I stated and moved my arms around to ensure the rig wouldn’t settle to one side and become annoying.  The Young Woman attached a one point sling to the SBR and placed it over my head and under the right arm. Even with the weapon weight, the equipment was still light and very manageable, easy to negotiate corners and move with.