Infected: They Will Eat You!: A Story of Family Survival in a Zombie Apocalypse (5 page)

BOOK: Infected: They Will Eat You!: A Story of Family Survival in a Zombie Apocalypse
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After dinner the boys and I checked the TV for new information one more time while Christine got on the computer and talked to friends on the phone.

The only
new
news was that entire cities had been quarantined. The U. S., Great Britton, France, Germany, Australia and other countries were sending military and medical staff into Israel to help. New video from the Islamic countries were more common now, showing celebrations. Speculations were that al-Qaeda was responsible or Hezbollah or a number of other terrorist organizations. No one had claimed responsibility yet.

It was time to get everyone in bed. I knew even though we were tired it may be a while before everyone settled down and went to sleep.

“Get ready for bed.” I ordered.

“Oh, we want to watch this.” Caleb argued. He was good at that.

“There’s nothing new and we’ve had a hard day.” I responded, “I’m tired, we’re all tired, and we have more hard work to do tomorrow. Let’s go. Do your bathroom stuff and go upstairs.”

Christine had heard me and met us at the foot of the stairs, “I want them to sleep in our room tonight.”

This was a time to agree so I just said, “OK.”

Once we were settled in bed, the boys in their ‘nests’ on the floor, it didn’t take long for us all to fall asleep. Our minds may have been full of concern but we were tired.

-——————————————

I know I’m tired when I do not wake up
at all
‘till morning. Today it’s nearly five thirty and I just want to roll over and go back to sleep but my mind starts going over things that I need to get done and questions about what new events might have happened so I get up.

First thing is coffee. Second thing is pee. Then pet the cat, let him out, get my coffee. What a routine. I feel better already. I do change things up somewhat and go into the living room and turn on the TV instead of going down to my office.

What I saw was not pretty. What I heard was disturbing. The events from the past few days were starting to come together. The first set of bombings were regular suicide bombs. The next set included chemicals, that’s why all of the hazmat suits and quarantines. The quarantines had kept the reporters far enough away from the bomb sites that they had nothing to show or tell. Now the quarantines had broken down and people were running wild. There were images of people whose flesh was blistered and peeling off in strips. Some video showed infected attacking others, even police and military, to the point that they were being shot! Another report showed Israeli’s trying to leave the country only to be shot by Syrian troops at the border.

“The picket line!” I nearly shouted. “They knew.”

Between the video and reports from Israel discussion focused on who executed the attack, what chemicals had been used and security around the world to prevent more attacks.

For two hours I watched, flipping around to see if any station had something new. It wasn’t until nearly eight when a report of a would-be bomber was shot in Kiryat Shmona. The map on the screen showed it was to the north in Israel, far away from the other bombings. As they talked about the area news came that a bomb had exploded blocks from where the bomber had been killed. This raised the question whether there would be more bombs in Israel.

An alert scrolled across the screen stating Homeland Security had heightened its warnings to red, Severe Risk of Terrorist Attack, and discussions turned to what the Red rating meant.

I went for more coffee. I heard Christine upstairs so I fixed her a cup and met her at the bottom of the stairs. We sat on the couch and watched, sipping coffee and saying nothing.

It was another half hour before Caleb came staggering downstairs. He pushed between us on the couch. I let him sit quietly for a few minutes then said “We have a lot of things to get done today. Let’s eat something and get started. I’ll get Jesse up.”

“I’m tired.” Caleb moaned.

“Me too but we can rest when the work is done.” I responded, “Let’s go.”

“I’ll go get Jesse up.” Christine said and headed upstairs.

Christine getting Jesse up generally involved snuggling and both falling back to sleep so I knew there would be time before the household became active. I let Caleb lay on the couch watching the news.

“Let me know if anything new happens.” I said as I walked to the kitchen to get more coffee then to the basement.

Yesterday we had shoved our new supplies on shelves where they would be out of the way, today we needed to organize and repack everything. We could fill the five gallon buckets with an assortment of foods and medical supplies so that each was its own survival bucket. The buckets would be easier to carry and pack in case we needed to leave. They could also be buried or stashed away more easily. We’d have to camouflage them, their whiteness would stand out too much. I started a list of things to get…spray paint I wrote.

It took a half hour before Caleb started to stir. I could hear him in the kitchen getting breakfast. There was still no sign of movement upstairs. By the time Caleb came down to say he had fixed breakfast I had a list of supplies we had on hand and additional items to get. We’d figure out how to split things up while eating.

Christine and Jesse made it down in time for breakfast, the smell of food usually got Jesse moving. He was tired this morning but that didn’t stop him from making it to the table. I kept thinking it was a growing spurt but there was no spurting to it, it was a constant.

“OK, here’s a list of what we have downstairs.” I said as we sat down to eat, “We need to figure out what we want in each supply bucket.”

“How many buckets do we have?” asked Caleb.

“Thirty of the food safe ones with lids.” I answered, “There’s another seven we already had but only two have lids. Do you have an idea?”

“No.” was all he said.

They were tired and uncertain what this all meant. We sat and ate quietly then Jesse asked, “Will all the stuff fit in the buckets?”

“No,” I answered, “we’ll fill the buckets with as much stuff as we can then store the rest. Maybe we can find other containers we can use. The buckets are mainly to make individual survival packs each having an assortment of food, water, first aid items…that way if we only have one or two we’re not stuck with all alcohol and band aids and no food or tools.

“Let’s get the backpacks we’ve been outfitting as well, and any other backpacks we have. Those will be good to stuff full. They’re easy to grab and go with.”

There was no response from anyone. I wasn’t sure if it was that they were just tired or if concern was sitting in. We finished eating and went to work.

Christine was on the computer looking for new information. The TV was on in the living room although no one was watching. We also had the TV on in my office so we could hear it as we worked.

It was a little after two when we sealed our last survival bucket. We also had the two other buckets with lids full of small tools and fasteners, tape, 550 paracord, padlocks and other useful items. The trick with these was to stuff them full of things we may need but not so heavy that they were cumbersome to carry. It didn’t take many hammers and wrenches to make a heavy bucket and we became quite adapt at bucket packing.

In each of the five other buckets we stuffed paper products, clothes, a couple bottles of water, packets of dried camping food, fire starter and other small light items. Caleb made lids out of duct tape while Jesse and I organized the remaining supplies on shelves with plans to find additional storage containers. It was time for a break.

The boys and I sat in the living room exhausted eating and watching the news.

Christine had been on the phone much of the day. She’s a phonie, she likes to talk on the phone and does so
a lot
, today she was talking even more than usual. Discussions varied from “
Do you think this is the End of Days?
” to “
If food becomes scarce I guess I’ll lose weight.
” and “
If something happens we have space for you.
” I tried not to pay attention, it sounded like the same conversation with different people. Between calls I walked in and said “Be careful what you say about our supplies and what we’re doing.”

“These are our friends and family.” she replied, “I wouldn’t’ say anything to just anyone. Besides, if someone needs help we’re supposed to help them.”

“I know, but your friends may tell their friends who mention something to someone else and then there’s a mob at our door.” I said, “Don’t tell anyone. We’ll let who we want know
if
something happens.”

“OK, you’re the boss.” she gave in.

It was after four before we got started again. With the supplies mostly organized we started pulling the plywood out to measure and cut. Both Caleb and Jesse had learned to use the circular saw and table saw as well as how to measure and mark lumber. We would spend hours building things out of wood and metal. They were always experimenting and creating and building and repurposing. This was a time when we needed the skills they had developed over the past couple years.

By dark we had all of the plywood cut and labeled for each door and window. In the morning we’d stock pile them around the house. If necessary we would be able to board up quickly.

“Dinner’s ready.” Christine poked her head out the back door and announced.

“Good, I’m
starving
!” said Jesse, “and I’m tired.”

“Me too.” chimed in Caleb.

“Me three.” I agreed, “Let’s pick up and go eat.”

“I’m too tired.” whined Jesse.

“We’re all tired. It won’t take long, we’ll shove the tools in the garage and put the wood under the shed.” I said, “Let’s go.”

In less than ten minutes we were inside getting cleaned up. After dinner Caleb and Jesse took turns showering. Once they were done I went upstairs to clean up. It had been a tough couple days, physically and mentally. By the time I made it back downstairs the three were on the living room couch watching TV. They were so tired that it didn’t take but a few minutes for the boys to fall asleep snuggled on either side of Christine.

“I’m tired, I’m going to bed.” I said as I entered the room.

“Don’t you want to see if anything’s new?” Christine asked.

“Is anything new?” I returned.

“Well, it all seems familiar but that could be because it all just looks the same.” she answered, “I can’t tell if what they’re showing is from earlier or from now. Mostly it’s just these people talking about chemicals and who may have done this.”

“It’s like seven hours or something later there than here so it looks like the video they are showing is from today.” I said, “And this all sounds like what I’ve been hearing all afternoon so I’m going to bed.”

“They keep saying that much of Israel has little or no power and that communication with their reporters is sporadic.” she said, “Also there’s some type of fighting in Lebanon but not with Israel. They keep talking about Hezbollah and al-Qaeda
clashing
but reporters in countries around Israel are hiding because they are being killed. Oh honey, I think this may be it.”

“OK, I’m going to bed.” I said, “Come on guys, let’s go to bed.”

Caleb gave out a grown as I started to pick him up. He was too big for me to carry any more but me acting like I was going to pick him up usually got him walking on his own. Christine had gotten Jesse moving although it looked more like a sleepwalk than a conscious act. They staggered up the stairs and flopped on top of the “nests” they had made on our bedroom floor the previous night. They were already asleep.

I lay down in bed and heard “Honey, I’m scared. This……..” the next thing I knew it was four thirteen in the morning.

-——————————————

It was dark and quiet, except for some heavy breathing and occasional snore, the morning was peaceful, not my mind. I wanted to go back to sleep but started thinking about things to get done, what if this was really nothing and we just spent thousands of dollars, what if this was the
end
or if we had to leave where would we go?

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed with a moan. My body ached. I got dressed and headed down stairs. Joey must have been nestled down with the boys, he pounced in front of me leading the way to the kitchen. Time to go outside I guess. I let him out, got my coffee and sat down on the couch in the quiet. The only light came from the electric candles Christine insisted we have in our windows.

The quiet was nice. Sitting still was very nice. There are times when sitting still and quiet and just listening is important. I have found that listening is an extremely important skill to learn and one that must be practiced or your proficiency diminishes. My main thought or rather question I asked out loud, “Am I doing the right thing? Are these preparations necessary?”

The images that came to mind were of Richard Dreyfuss sculpting his mashed potatoes in Close Encounters of the Third Kind and that of Noah building the Arc. Both appeared insane to others but they were preparing for events to come. I hoped it wasn’t the insane part I was relating to.

The answer that I kept getting was “You’re doing well. Keep it up.” I’d heard this answer before in my life and it had always proven true so I decided to keep going.

I got more coffee, a pencil and notepad and went back to the couch to make a plan for the day. Without thinking I turned on the TV.


....and the conflicts between Hezbollah and al-Qaeda and other Islamic groups continues along the Lebanon-Syrian border and have spilled into Jordan. Reports are still sketchy but we do have this from Ryan Dickson in Jasim, Syria.
” said the news anchor.

There was silence. “
Ryan, are you there?
” asked the woman on TV. “
Ryan?


….do know is that hundreds if not thousands of Israeli’s have been killed as they try to leave Israel and cross the border into Syria. Less than an hour ago we witnessed these ourselves. In addition, we have reports of small arms fire and explosions to the East of us. We will try to get more information on that but movement here is treacherous for anyone and especially anyone from outside the region. Right now we have………..
” A loud explosion could be heard and Ryan’s sentence was cut off.

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