Dead Outside (Book 1) (6 page)
I’d
spent half of the time I was working trying to reach Sarah or Roxie on the
phone, but the networks were so overcharged with people calling each other I
couldn’t get a call through. I tried Nick a few times too, to no avail. I was
getting worried. The last text I got said they were gathering supplies in our
apartment, but I knew they wouldn’t be able to get much. We lived on fast food
and leftovers most of the time. There wasn’t enough food there to last three
days, let alone three months.
I
was searching the basement’s many totes and storage bins for anything my
parents could use, or I could use on my inevitable trip home. I was already
putting together a bag of things I’d need, baseball bat, changes of clothes,
medical supplies, maps my grandmother had collected over the years, flash
light, rope, a little mirror my grandfather had used for working on trucks that
looked like an oversized dental instrument, even an old machete. All I needed
was my gun, ammo, and some food and I was ready to go.
I
waited to get those things last so that my parents wouldn’t notice. We had the
guns and ammo on the counter, loaded and ready just in case. The food was also
all accounted for, and I didn’t want them to think I was trying to hoard it.
A
few people, well I guess they weren’t really people anymore, were outside,
banging on the front door. A few others were in the back reaching up for the
now boarded windows. They let out a wheezy moaning sound. It really made a
chill run down your spine no matter how long you listened to it.
My
Dad rationalized that we shouldn’t waste ammo killing them, because they
weren’t really doing any harm just being there, and that we should save it for
if they managed to get in somehow. Maybe if other people thought of this, more
people might have lasted those first few chaotic weeks.
4:00
AM June 28
It’d
been eight days since we got back to my grandmother’s house. Eight days since I
had any contact with Sarah, Nick, or Roxie. I was rooting through a box filled
with winter coats when my phone started to vibrate. I about had a heart attack
when I saw it was Nick calling me.
“Hello?”
I answered frantically, hoping the call wouldn’t be lost.
“Sam!”
I heard his familiar, though shaken voice. “We’ve been trying to get a hold of
you for weeks. Are you okay?”
“I’m
fine,” I sighed in relief. “I’m with my parents and my grandmother at her
house. Where are you guys?”
“We’re
driving to the high school,” he said slightly out of breath. “Hold on!” he
yelled. I heard some rattling, like he dropped the phone.
“Nick!
What the hell is going on?” I yelled into the phone, hoping he could hear me. I
heard loud cracks, what I assume were gunshots coming from the phone. I heard
some more rattling as he picked the phone back up.
“Sam,
we’re driving to the school, we don’t have the supplies to last at our house,
they said on the radio and TV to go to the school that they have fortified it,
and all residents in the area should go there.”
“Were
those gunshots?” I asked almost too scared to know.
“Yes,
Roxie has your twenty-two rifle,” I heard tires screeching and a few more
gunshots. “They’re all over the road!”
“What
are all over the road?” I asked, my heart now racing.
“Zombies!”
I heard Roxie’s voice pierce through the phone.
“Nick,
listen to me,” I interrupted Roxie, who was still shouting. “Where is Sarah?”
“She’s
in the back seat,” he answered. “Here she is.”
“Sam?”
her voice calmed me down in a way I cannot describe, just knowing she was still
alive made everything a hundred times better.
“Sarah,
listen, I don’t have much time, the call could be dropped any second.” I
thought of what would be the best way to word it, “Stay safe until I get
there.”
“Until
you get here?” she asked, slightly confused. “You’re all the way up in Ohio.”
“I’m
coming for you,” I blurted from the heart, “it doesn’t matter how far, or how
many of those damned things there are in my way. I’ll be there.”
“Sam,”
she was practically speechless, not sure what to say, “That’s so…” Her voice
changed drastically all of the sudden, “Oh my God! Look out!”
A
loud crash echoed through my ear as the line died. My heart sank to the bottom
of my stomach. I tried to call back probably a hundred times, getting nothing
but an out of service tone. I threw my phone at a wall. It broke into six or
seven pieces as it collided with the wall. I went upstairs and grabbed my bag
out of my room.
It
was already dark, so everyone was asleep. It was my watch tonight, so I didn’t
have to be too stealthy as they would expect me to make a little noise. I
opened up my hiking backpack and started placing some of the food in into it. I
focused on the granola bars and snack type foods which would expire, leaving
the canned food for my parents and grandmother. I must have been a little too
hasty, making a little too much noise then I should have. I heard footsteps
from down the hall.
“Damn!”
I whispered out loud.
“Samuel
Benjamin O’Neal, what do you think you’re doing?” I heard in an all too
familiar voice.
“Mom,
I can’t just stay here. I have to make sure she’s okay,” I defended myself.
She
shook her head angrily, “No, you are staying with your family, I won’t let you
go.”
I
kept packing, “Mom, I won’t be able to live with myself if I stay.”
My
dad walked into the kitchen and crossed his arms. He silently watched and
listened as my mom yelled at me.
“You’re
not leaving. You won’t last a day outside with those things everywhere,” her face
shifted from anger to fear. “I can’t lose you like I lost your sister!”
“Mom,
you didn’t lose Roxie. The cell phone network may be overloaded, but that
didn’t mean she’s dead. She’s alive, and so are Sarah and Nick. I just got off
the phone with them. They are fine,” I lied slightly, not entirely sure about
their fate form the end of the phone call. “I have to go for Sarah, because I
love her, and can’t live without her, the same way Dad can’t live without you.”
My
dad walked over to the counter and grabbed my shotgun and several boxes of
shells. He walked over to me, set the shells on the counter next to my bag and
held my shotgun in front of me. “The moment you can get in touch with us, do it
so your mother doesn’t worry.”
I
grabbed the shotgun. My mom’s jaw dropped and she turned to my dad, “How can
you just let him leave?”
“Because
there is no way I can stop him.” He scooped the keys off the counter and
grabbed his own shotgun. “Come on, I’ll see you out.”
I
walked over to my mom, “I’m not going to die. I swear the moment I can get word
out, I will. Tell Grandma I said goodbye”
Tears
ran down her face as she struggled to accept the fact that I wasn’t going to
stay. “I love you, and please be careful.”
“Don’t
worry." I smiled, "I’ll be fine.”
I
put on my backpack, strapped my shotgun over my shoulder, and grab my baseball
bat that was leaning against the couch. I stepped into the garage and saw my
dad had lit one of his few remaining cigars.
"You
know I knew you were lying a week ago." He said as he pulled the cigar
from his lips, smoke flowing out.
"About
what?" I asked, closing the door behind me.
"When
you said you were staying." He said as he put the cigar back in his mouth
for another draw. "You couldn't have thought I was that stupid." He
said as he let out more smoke.
For
half a second I was actually surprised that he'd seen through my lie, then
realized he was right. All those times I'd thought I succeeded was probably
because he didn't care about those feeble attempts at lies. "No, thought I
was smart enough to pull it off."
"I
also knew about the beer you had stashed in your closet when you were in high
school." He smirked.
"Well
it wasn't the best hiding place," I chuckled, feeling tears forming in the
corners of my eyes. "You probably noticed when your eighteen packs turned
into seventeen packs too."
He
took another draw from his cigar. He nodded as the smoke billowed from his
mouth and then tossed me the keys. “Take the truck. It’s got a full tank and 2 cans
of gas in the back. Be careful, and watch your back.” He held his right hand
out in front of me.
I
dropped my bat and shook his hand, and pulled in for a hug. He didn’t say he
was proud of me, he didn’t have to. I knew he was, and he knew I knew he was.
He didn’t say he’d see me again, or see you later. Deep down we both knew that
what was happening in the world wasn’t going to be over in a few months or even
years. The world as we knew it was gone, replaced by destruction and chaos. And
whether we liked it or not, we’d most likely never see each other again.
I
hopped in the truck and placed my shotgun and bat within reaching distance,
then turned the key to start the truck. I looked over at my dad one last time.
He yelled out to me, “Good luck!” and clicked the button to open the garage
door.
As
the door raised slowly I could see the legs of about six Infected who were
outside the garage door.
I
hit the gas once the door was high enough and hit two of the Infected who were
standing outside the door. Just as I passed the threshold of the garage door my
dad hit the button again and fired a few shots into the remaining Infected who
had the misfortune of being too close. I watched in the rearview mirror as the
house went out of view, just as the garage door closed again. The last thing I
saw of my dad was the orange glow of his cigar.
6:00
AM, June 28
The
highways were jam packed. I could see the glow of headlights and small fires
illuminating the raised roadway. I was driving along a side street to avoid the
traffic, but it wasn’t any less of a pain in the ass. There were dozens of
fender benders, people outside their cars fighting off Infected with tire
irons, crowbars, or anything else they could get their hands on. Every once in
a while I saw a quick flash and a loud bang. Gunshots echoed from all over, but
some were uncomfortably close. About a quarter mile up the road a car flew out
of a housing development, going an easy forty miles an hour. He plowed through
a mob of Infected, a fence, and finally into a support beam for the raised
highway, exploding in a brilliant fireball.
By
the time I was passing the burning wreck a few of the Infected that he missed
had reached the door and were reaching through the burning wreckage for the
now, almost certainly dead, driver. Two of the infected were wearing military
uniforms, body armor and all. Hell, one of them still had his Rifle dangling
behind it from a strap across his torso. So much for the military containing
this. I couldn’t glance down a street without seeing the carnage that must now
be sweeping the streets all around the world.
I
had to slow down to barely more than idling so I could maneuver through some
tightly packed disabled vehicles. It was taking much longer to get out of the Cleveland area than I thought it would. I knew the Highways would be useless, but didn't
expect this much chaos in the side streets. There were most likely other routes
I could have taken, but this was the only one I knew. I didn't have my phone's
GPS to guide me, and I didn't have the luxury of pulling over to peruse a map
to find them.
Suddenly,
I felt a jerk on the rear of the truck. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw
a person grabbing one of my gas cans. I slammed on my breaks, causing him to
lose his footing. While he was struggling to regain his balance, I floored the
gas pedal. He dropped the gas can, tripped over the tailgate, and fell off the
back of the truck. I turned back to face the road in front of me, and saw too
late that I was going straight into another car. The truck slammed into the
car, jerking me forward, and causing me to head butt the steering wheel.
I
didn’t quite black out, but I was barely conscious, seeing blurs and two or
three of everything dancing around my vision like a cartoon.
The
world seemed to be moving in slow motion as I saw the driver’s side door open
and something grabbed me and throw me out of the car. I tried to fight him off,
at first thinking it might be one of the Infected, but I was too disoriented. I
hit the asphalt pretty hard, oddly bringing me back to my senses a bit.
I
don’t know how long I was on the ground, but I somehow I managed to pull myself
together and get up. The man who attacked me was trying to start the truck, to
no avail. The engine was puttering, but wouldn’t fire up. I grabbed him by his
collar and punched him in the face as hard as I could.
Pain
shot from my knuckles as they collided with his jaw. He let out a yelp of pain,
and grabbed his now bloody nose. Before he could retaliate I threw him back out
of the car. His body hit the asphalt with a dull thud. I leaned down and
punched him repeatedly in the face. Hearing the satisfying crack of his nose breaking
wasn't enough. In what I could only describe as a blind rage I continued to
pummel his face until his blood was flowing from my fist.
His
face was a mess of red, what used to be his nose was now broken bone and
cartilage with torn flesh trying to hold it all together. He tried to fight
back in spite of it all, but eventually he stopped fighting back and began
trying to get away.
I
climbed back into the truck and tried to start it myself. After a few tries I
gave up, the crash must have totaled it. I'd driven this truck dozens of times,
and the noises coming from the engine block were too rough, sounding more like
a grinder chipping away at metal then a smooth spin of the cylinders. I
strapped on my backpack, slid my baseball bat into it, and grabbed my shotgun.
I only had about thirty shells. Hopefully I could score some out of a cop car
or something if I started to run low. I had a feeling thirty wouldn’t be enough
to last me all the way home.
The
hijacker was still writhing on the ground, blood was still gushing out of his
nose. I stared at him for a second. He wasn’t infected, and he didn’t have any
bites as far as I could tell, but I had an overwhelming rage to kill him for
what he’d just done. If he hadn’t tried to steal my truck, I would still be
driving. I even had the sights aimed at his head for a few seconds. It would be
easy, just place my finger on the trigger and pull. A raspy moan reverberated
from behind me. I glanced back and saw several Infected from the crash a couple
hundred feet behind us were now heading this way, after a fresher meal.
I
didn’t kill him, I suppose I could have rationalized it as a mercy killing, or
hell, even as an act of revenge. It wasn’t like I could get arrested for it.
The cops were too busy trying to kill Infected. They wouldn’t notice one extra
corpse.
I
didn’t turn around to see if he got up to avoid the approaching Infected. He
was practically unconscious from the beating I gave him, so he probably
wouldn’t even notice he was being eaten until it was too late.
I
continued on foot. The cars on the roads were so dense now that I would have
had to abandon the truck to keep going anyhow. Most of the cars I saw were
abandoned, though every once in a while one would still have an Infected
inside, still buckled into seats, reaching out broken windows, trying to grab me,
pull me in and take a chunk of flesh. I avoided those cars as best I could,
climbing over them, or just giving them a wide berth.
There
was a roadblock ahead, an odd assortment of police cars, ambulances, fire
trucks, and military vehicles. It looked like what a war zone must look like.
There were construction workers using forklift trucks to stack up concrete
highway dividers into a makeshift wall.
The
police officers, soldiers, and even what looked like regular people with
firearms were guarding the unfinished gaps in the wall. Paramedics were
treating dozens of injured people, not even bothering to shuttle them to the
already overcrowded, and in all likelihood overrun, hospitals. The sounds of
the sirens were practically drowned out by gunfire, automatic rifles, shotguns
and pistols were unloading on anything that looked remotely dead.
I
knew staying on this street would be suicide. All these sirens and gunfire
would probably just attract more Infected here, and with all the bullets flying
I’d probably get shot.
There
was an abandoned police car on the side of the road. Well, not necessarily
abandoned, the cop was still in the driver’s seat, and he just had a trickle of
blood running down from his temple. There was a circular wound on his hand, the
teeth marks were plainly visible. I pulled the pistol from his hand. I’d only
fired a handgun a few times at a gun range, but I knew enough for it to be
worth it. I also grabbed the clips he had on his belt, but didn’t have enough
time to look in his car for more. Some officers at the blockade were staring at
me. I took what I already grabbed and made my way out of there before they
tried to do something about it.
I
continued down a side street hoping to find a route a little less crowded. The
scene was the same practically everywhere I went. It took me about an hour to
find a street that was a little less high profile.
There
was only one soldier there, which seemed a little odd to me considering the
number at some of the other road blocks, though the concrete barriers were
already up and in place blocking anything from getting passed. He was wearing
full body armor and a gas mask, pacing back and forth along the wall.
I
was holding my shotgun in my hands, safety off. It probably wasn’t the best
idea to approach him like that. The moment he saw me, he aimed his M4 directly
at me.
“Stop
right there!” he ordered. His voice was muffled by the mask, giving him a Darth
Vader like tone.
I
froze. Luckily my shotgun wasn’t aimed at him, because otherwise he might have
just shot me on sight.
“Go
back to the city, the border is closed.” He looked almost like a statue. His
entire body was covered head to foot with protective clothing, and the only
shred of humanity left was his silhouette.
“My
Girlfriend is south, so that’s where I’m going.” I may have bent the truth a
bit, but saying, the girl I’ve had a crush on for as long as I can remember,
but never acted upon, was a bit of a mouthful, and not quite as impacting as an
established relationship.
“It’s
not safe beyond these walls. The local shelter was completely overrun, and the
Infected are all over the place.” He didn’t move at all, the only reason I knew
he was still alive was the fact that he was talking to me.
“If
you haven’t noticed, there are Infected all over the place
inside
the
walls too,” I gestured to the smoke plumes rising slowly from the city. “It’s
not like I’m trying to break in! I just want to leave.”
“My
orders are clear.” He wasn’t relenting. “Nobody enters, nobody leaves.”
I
thought for a second. His rifle was still aimed at me, so killing him wasn’t an
option. The fact that thought even crossed my mind freaked me out, but he had a
gun aimed at me, it would be self defense right? Even though he looked like a
military robot, I tried to touch on his humanity. “Where are you from?”
He
was taken by surprise, shifting a bit in his stance, the first movement I’d
seen him make since he aimed the gun at me. “Macon, Georgia. Why?”
I
sighed in relief, If he had been from around here this probably wouldn’t have
worked. “Do you have a girl there?” I prayed he would at least be able to
relate to me in some way.
His
rifle lowered slightly, and with a nod he admitted, “Yeah.”
“Would
I be able to stop you from going to make sure she was okay?” I challenged.
He
pointed his rifle to the ground. “No.” He looked left and right, as though he
were making sure nobody else was around. “Hurry, before I change my mind.”
I
didn’t waste any time. I jogged up to the wall, and started climbing up. There
were probably about thirty or forty bodies on the other side, all motionless,
all having barely intact heads. When I reached the top, just before I descended
down the other side, I looked him in the eyes, or at least, where his eyes
would be if he didn’t have the mask on. “Thanks.”
He
just nodded slightly, “Don’t mention it.”
4:00
PM, June 28
The
streets outside the government quarantine weren’t any different from those
inside. Though instead of seeing frantic military and city vehicles buzzing
around, there was an eerie silence. Almost everyone had locked themselves in
their houses, too afraid to go outside.
I
say almost, because there were a few hunting parties going around. They were
made up of five or six civilians with hunting rifles, shotguns, and pistols
bought for self defense. They drove around in pickup trucks, shooting any
Infected they saw, hooting and hollering for each kill.
I
would duck and hide whenever I heard one approaching. Sure, if they’d seen I
wasn’t Infected they might let me go, but I didn’t want to risk getting shot by
accident, or just shot by some psychopath who had no qualms with murder,
especially now that society’s laws weren’t there to punish them for it.
Besides, I'd already seen at least one of these hunters chugging from a whiskey
bottle before he took a shot. Hardly the best state to be in when in this type
situation. Though, I had to admit a part of me wanted to take a swig of that
bottle as well.
The
further I got from Cleveland, and from the suburbs surrounding it, the fewer
Uninfected people I saw. It was slightly ironic. Hunting had always been
considered a rural sport, done almost entirely in the wilderness. Now the
hunting was being done in suburbia, right in front of people’s houses.
I’d
been walking for hours. The sky was getting dark. But it wasn’t getting dark
because it was the end of the day, storm clouds were covering the sky. I looked
back at Cleveland, now several miles behind me. It had a creepy orange glow
from the fires that were still raging. Headlights from cars, both abandoned and
still driving around inside the “safe zone,” also added to the glow, but most,
if not all of the house and street lights were out. I entered a small suburban
development.
I
had my shotgun’s stock pressed against my shoulder, ready to absorb the recoil
from firing it. I walked a little slower now. The sun had dipped down over the
horizon leaving almost no natural light for me to see with.
There
were shadows dancing all over the place. Mailboxes and street signs seemed to
move out of the corner of my eye. I almost shot a few of them, but managed to
compose myself before pulling the trigger. Debris was all over the place, in
the streets, in yards. A lot of windows were broken. A lot of doors left open.
There was even one house with an SUV sticking out of the front of it and a few
bodies littering the yard.
I
stayed mostly to the middle of the street so I would notice anyone or anything
trying to sneak up on me. Oddly though, it was the first time all day that I
didn’t see at least one Infected stumbling around. I could hear distant moans
still, as well as the occasional gunshot, but they were far enough away that I
wasn’t too terribly worried.
I
felt a few wet drips on my head and shoulders before a sudden rain began
pouring all around me. I started running toward the closest house. The front
door was locked, but I stayed under the roof overhang for a minute or two
thinking about what to do. I looked down and saw there was a doormat.
