Dead Quarantine (11 page)

“Get down,” Sarah yelled.

In a last spasm, the soldier pulled the
trigger of his automatic rifle. It sent a spray of bullets in the
air. The windows broke by the bullets flying through. Sarah pulled
Lilly down; the others also went for cover. After the shooting died
down and the soldier uttered a last scream filled with terror and
agony, broken safety glass covered the floor.

George cried out in pain. He lay on his
back, pressing his hands to his belly, while blood pulsed through
his fingers. He spat blood. Lilly started panicking again. Not
wanting a repeat of her zoning out in shock, Sarah slapped her. “Go
help George.”

Lilly nodded and went over to him, putting
pressure on the wound. They could use help. Where was Vic? He would
help. Jake sat back at his desk with Anna on his lap. He whispered
something in her ear and pointed at George. Anna laughed
sheepishly. Everybody was breaking down.

“Someone know what's happening?” she
screamed.

Her thoughts raced, unable to focus on any
one of them. She wanted to get away, run out of the classroom, out
of school, to home. Leave this all behind. She felt bile creep. Her
breathing became shallow. Her hands felt numb. She stared at them
and looked back up. Lilly sat next to George, shaking her head. He
lay motionless in front of her. Sarah felt her head go woozy.
George was dead.

Lilly grabbed her hands, calling her name.
She allowed the words to drag her back and focused on Lilly's
lips.

“What should we do now?” Lilly asked.

How would she know? She was just a teen, a
month away from turning eighteen. She had been keeping herself up,
hoping it would turn out all right, but everything was crashing
down instead. Mount Vesuvius exploded, and they would all soon be
covered under its shit.

“Sarah?”

She saw the panic in her friend’s eyes and
her need for her. Sarah gulped. She closed her eyes to collect her
thoughts. No way could she give in. She had a mom and brother to
return to and a real friend that depended on her. She evened her
breathing, opened her eyes, and stood up.

“We wait for daybreak.”

“We what?” Jake said.

She ignored him. “Tomorrow we leave; in the
meantime, we hide here.”

“I'm not staying here with a corpse,” Anna
said and pointed at the teacher. “Two corpses.”

“We can't leave Tommy alone,” Sarah
said.

Whatever they choose to do, she wouldn't
leave him alone. He was still out cold and too heavy for her to
drag. She couldn't count on the others to help. Jake hitting Tommy
must have done some damage to him, most likely a concussion. He was
still out without a sign that he would be back up anytime soon.

“Well then, it's decided,” Jake said.

Jake stood, grabbed Anna by the waist, and
walked to the door. “Who's coming?” No one else stirred. “Suit
yourselves; I prefer to be alone anyway.”

They left, leaving Sarah with Lilly, the two
nerds, Emily, an unconscious Tommy, and two corpses. Whatever
happened, Sarah was determined to get through the night. As long
they kept to themselves and made no noise, they would be fine.
She'd manage. She fought to believe it. She sat down in a corner,
closed her eyes, and tried to rest.

CHAPTER TEN

“I
should have left you out there,” the man said. “You caused me more
trouble than you are worth. Now, they got my house surrounded.”

He walked past Ralph into the kitchen. From
the fridge, he took two beers and tossed one at Ralph, who barely
caught it. Why make him feel so unwelcome only to offer him a beer?
Not that he was complaining; it was better to feel unwelcome than
to be zombie chow.

“Are you gonna stay on the floor.”

The man sat down on his sofa in his living
room. The room had all the commodities of picture-perfect living
from an IKEA showroom. Spotless, plain, and a sense of unpractical
usage. Ralph stood up, wincing at the stiff muscle pain stretching
over his body. He sat down on the opposite sofa. The soft cushions
were a delight to his aching bum.

The zombies outside banged on the door
incessantly, as if they instinctively knew succulent food was
inside. Could they smell them or was it that they were so dumb and
compulsive that they would keep going in one direction without
additional stimuli?

“You like the door? Want to open it? No?
Well stop staring at it. Open your beer and have a drink with
me.”

Ralph popped the can open and took a sip. He
didn't like beer, too bitter, and it was heavy on his stomach, but
today he savored the cool and bitter taste. The alcohol quickly
made itself known. It went straight to his head and made him feel a
little lighter. He didn't mind. He could use the distraction. He
emptied his can and put it down on the coffee table.

“Nice house, isn’t it? Wanna buy it?” the
man said.

Ralph shook his head. The neighborhood
wasn't very lively; everything seemed a little dead. No thanks,
siree.

“No, you sure? Figures, no one wants to.” He
twirled his finger in the air. “This one was the first one built,
decorated, and furnished, so prospective buyers could come and see
what kind of house they might get, to entice them into buying. You
know how many families showed up the first year?”

The man showed five dirty fingers.

Zombies were walking the earth. Who cared if
houses sold? Ralph shifted in his seat.

“The next year even less showed up. No one
was buying. Still we built the other houses; you would think the
higher ups would take the hint. No, they thought in two or three
years things would turn around. It didn't. The subprime mortgage
fiasco won't go away that easy. Still, they kept us building. Sure
it was fine as long we got paid, but the company went bust and this
week was my last one employed. Knowing this, they still held us to
our contract. We still keep building these houses; houses that
likely will be razed the month after we finished them. We could
have been with our families, but no. Half the crew came to work
sick, because we all needed the cash, but damn I wished they had
stayed home.”

The man looked out the window. One of the
zombies walked past.

“Billy there could have been with his
pregnant wife instead of walking around mindless out there.”

Ralph kept silent. Instead, he observed the
man. He had denim on, work boots, and a checkered shirt. He was
about 6 feet with a muscular build. His clothes were bloody. It
wasn’t his blood; he had no visible injuries.

“I forgot my manners.” The man stretched a
hand out. “The name is Norman. You can call me Norm.”

Ralph shook his hand. “Ralph, pleased to
meet you. Thanks for saving me.”

“Yea a real bother too. Made me take care of
old Terrence, our foreman. Hated his guts really.”

The pleasantries done with, Ralph hoped to
get to business and figure out what Norm knew or had on him that
could help him get away in the morning. Or call for help. Or at
least reach home.

“Do you have a phone?”

“No signal this far out.”

“A landline maybe?”

The man guffawed and pointed to the door.
“Outside in our work shack. It is the only line phone for miles.
Although, you will have to find a way through all my coworkers.
Would be a waste really. You have little chance. I doubt you'll
manage getting there in one piece.

“I really need to call my mom.”

“Mommie's boy? Can't sleep without first
saying nighty night? You're a man now.”

“It's not that. I am worried about my mother
and sister; they are ill. I have to know if they are all
right.”

The man’s face turned serious. “I'm sorry,
but if they were sick, they are dead now.”

Ralph felt his throat tighten; he couldn't
accept that. “I heard on the news there are people that are
resistant to the virus. These people must have a greater chance of
recovery, and it's not like everyone that gets infected by a bug
dies. Maybe some get better.”

Norm finished his beer. “Do you believe
everything they tell you? Maybe they lied about the numbers. And if
I remember, it was all about the flu. Does this look like the damn
flu to you?”

Norm was right, but still it was not clear
if everyone that got ill became one of them. He remembered on the
bus more than half of the kids were still alive when the others
turned. Lauryn was alive and she looked less feverish when he left
her behind. Left her alone. Left her to die.

“Why would the doctor lie?”

“No idea why they would, but governments lie
all the time, so why not about this?”

He knew nothing about governments. He just
lived his life, went to school, and didn’t think about adult
things. He wanted to enjoy high school before moving into
adulthood. His education had taught him that they were the greatest
nation, most powerful, and most free. But what had happened today
was not that great. People had been gathered together to be
preemptive destroyed like they were livestock with mad cow
disease.

“How can you be so sure that no one survives
being infected?”

“Seen one not become one?”

No, he hadn't, but not seeing something
wasn't evidence to the contrary. No one saw God, but God existed;
the Bible was evidence of God's existence. He looked outside; a
zombie in construction clothing stopped in front of the window and
started banging his fist against it. How long would it hold? And
why would God allow this? Was this a test for humans to endure?
Regretfully, he had never read the Bible, so he wasn't sure if the
scriptures told about the dead rising and chewing on human
flesh.

“I've got to see for myself. Even if a
remote chance exists that my mom and sis are still well, I need to
take it.”

Norm sighed and stood up. “Guess you have a
point. Come on. We need to move. It won't take long before they get
inside.”

A zombie's fist cracked the window. Ralph
jumped up. He had allowed himself to fall into a sense of security
having walls around him. The door seemed sturdy enough, but the
windows obviously weren't. He followed Norm to the kitchen in the
back of the house. A door led to the yard. Norm switched the
outside light on. No zombies were near the door. Ralph followed him
outside.

“Close the door behind you,” Norm
whispered.

The sound of shattering glass came from the
living room.

“Hurry!”

Ralph ran back to the door and slammed it
shut.

“They don't seem to know how to open doors,”
Norm said. “It will delay them.”

They ran to a nearby tree line. They took
cover behind a bush.

“What now?” Ralph asked.

“Eight of these sons of bitches left. I
counted five at the house, so three must still be roaming
about.”

Norm pointed at the spot Ralph had run into
the zombies. “I parked my truck near the construction shack.”

They had no weapons to defend themselves
with. He had seen that boy rise back up. He had heard his heart
stop. Still, if he had a weapon, he wasn't sure he would use it.
Norm had smashed one zombie's head to a pulp without hesitation
while saving him.

“Norm.” The older man, he must be in his
thirties, looked at him. It was an awkward question. He did not
know him well enough to ask, but he felt he needed to know. “Have
you killed before?”

Norm's eyes glazed over. He drew back from
Ralph. “I'm not your brother, never served with you, so never ask
me that again.”

Norm crouched to the side of one of the
houses. Ralph followed him as well as he could.

“Punk, you listen to me; follow close, don't
say shit, and leave them to me. You'll only get in my way.”

Ralph held his lips together, so as not to
say anything stupid and lose the only person around who could
possibly help him. They crept along the wall. Norm checked around
the corner and signaled when the coast was clear, and they moved to
the next house. They went from house to house until they reached
the construction shack. It wasn't what Ralph expected. When he
thought about a shack, he thought of a wooden structure,
haphazardly put together, but it was the container office he had
already seen on his way up. He guessed the construction workers
used it as a break room. Norm's car, a green 2005 model Jeep
Gladiator, was parked next to it.

“Fuck, two of them.”

Ralph saw them. One was hard to miss—a big
fellow—and the other was a man who was dwarfed next to his
companion.

“What do we do now?”

“We wait until they pass.”

But they did not pass by. Instead, they
shuffled in their general direction. Ralph felt panic growing. He
looked wildly about for anything. A distance away, he saw a sledge
hammer. He would have to cross into the open to grab it, and the
zombies would certainly see or hear him. And what if he managed to
grab it? He wasn't even sure he could lift that thing; he had never
handled one before. Closer by, behind him on the ground, lay a
five-foot piece of timber. He grabbed it.

“Goof thinking,” Norm said.

How could Norm stay so calm with those two
bearing down on them? Ralph felt the shakes become less
controllable the closer they got. He had no idea how they were
going handle the big one. They closed in— now twenty feet away. The
zombies shuffled in their direction with more intent now, as if
they had gotten a whiff of fresh human flesh.

“Are you ready?” Norm asked.

Ralph nodded despite not being ready; he
would never be ready for this kind of work. He had no choice but go
with the blows dealt to him. Norm pushed him out from their cover.
Ralph staggered forward in the zombies’ direction.

“Go get them, champ.”

Norm slunk back into hiding behind the
buildings. The zombies caught Ralph's scent and were honing in on
him. He had no time to think. The smaller one was almost upon him.
Its hands stretched out to grab him; its teeth were bared ready to
sink into his flesh. Their eyes, dead fish eyes, looked right
through him. There was nothing, no rage, no hate, no love, only
emptiness. The soul was long gone in these husks of men. Ralph
raised the timber and crashed it against the zombie’s head, bashing
it in. Congealed blood dripped from its ears and it dropped.