Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary (5 page)

The
retailer in question was located on I-35W, south of Denton on the way to Fort
Worth, a bit past the race track and Alliance Airport. Because it was almost
certainly occupied I’d suggested we do a drive by. Reaching the interstate was
simple enough. It was just a short ride down a couple of residential streets, a
few miles through a rural area with only a handful of houses, most on ten acre
lots or larger, and that was it. We could avoid built up, populated areas the
entire way.

“It’s so
quiet,” observed Briana.

She had
the rabbit pillow around her neck. The pink thing looked stupid, but maybe it
was helping with the bumps. At the best of times my Jeep gave a rough ride.
Loaded down with my having to go off road every few minutes to get around
abandoned or wrecked cars wasn’t helping. There were a lot of those, though not
compared to cheesy apocalypse movies. You know the type with the endless line
of vehicles as far as the eye could see, the remnants of those who tried to
flee but failed.

“Very
quiet,” I agreed. “Have you seen any living people?”

She
continued to stare out the window. “No one. Hiding in the houses, I think, like
you were. Haven’t even seen many zombies.”

“If you
do see anybody come outside or wave to us, let me know. We can stop, maybe, if
they look safe.”

Briana
nestled back in her seat and closed her eyes. “Probably going to be a lot of
crazies, going insane from seeing it all.” She shivered.

“I doubt
if those’ll last long. I can’t see anyone who’s really irrational staying
alive. The ones I’m most worried about are the sort who were rotten to begin
with and don’t have to worry about police or repercussions anymore.”

That
statement would come back to haunt us in the months ahead.

*
* *

The
remainder of the drive was silent. We made our way down the interstate and
after about two hours reached Cabela’s. Crossing the overpass, I stopped so we
could take a good look.

“That
doesn’t seem right.”

Her
instincts were good, even if Briana didn’t know why she was so hesitant to
proceed.

“They’re
fortifying it. The people inside plan on staying there.” I pointed. “Look at
the parking lot. They’ve moved cars away from the building and slashed the
tires so they sit lower, making it hard for anything to crawl underneath. It’s
not the best wall, but it might buy time. The zombies are more likely to
approach the open areas instead, giving them fewer spots to defend.”

“They
blocked up the windows with something too,” she added.

I
couldn’t tell from my vantage what they had used, but other than the front
doors, it had been secured.

“Snipers
on the roof.”

She
looked up. “They’re watching us.”

“Makes
sense, but they aren’t pointing their guns. I think they’d let us come in if we
wanted, maybe, to have more people for defense. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t
give us any supplies though, not if they intend on staying. I think it’d be
best if we just left. I really don’t want to get stuck here.”

She had
no objections, perhaps agreeing or maybe just trusting in my judgment, and we
got back in the Jeep, heading north.

“Think
it’ll be that bad Jacob? Looks dangerous, being next to the city, but it did
seem secure.”

“Probably
is. Might stay that way too. Hell, the people there could even wall up the
doors and go in and out through the roof, using ladders or ropes. The zombies
would never get inside if they did that. Problem I see is that the food will
run out sooner or later. That’ll be what gets them.”

“How
long before those things notice they’re there?”

“Some
have. Had to.”

“I
didn’t see any bodies,” she pointed out, “or any zombies trying to get inside.”

“Well,
yeah, but they probably shot them and then dumped the bodies someplace. Even if
they’ve been super lucky, more are going to show up, lots and lots of them.
They’ll get surrounded, and when they do run out of food, they won’t be able to
go scavenging for more. There’ll be no escaping that place.”

From the
corner of my eye I noticed her go pale.

“Although.”
I paused, thinking. “If they can hold out until the zombies rot away, then they
have a real good chance. It might work, but it seems really iffy to me.”

“Jacob,
I’m not sure they’re doing that.”

“What?”
I slowed down and glanced over at Briana.

“Well,
they don’t seem to be rotting. I mean, look at them.”

I pulled
up beside a zombie, a woman wearing shorts and nothing else. The thing lurched
at the Jeep, but I only let it get close enough for a good look before driving
off again. This one had apparently died in the initial change. There were no
bite marks, no injuries. Her skin was pallid, with stains underneath that might
have been pooled blood, but there was nothing past that. It was as if
decomposition began but abruptly halted a short time later, a day maybe? I
didn’t have the background to know.

“They
should be nastier,” I agreed, “especially with this heat. I can’t believe I
didn’t notice. God...” I began to mumble under my breath.

“It
didn’t occur to me either, not until you mentioned them rotting away...” I hit
a pothole, and she put the rabbit pillow around her neck again. “...so no
feeling bad. Any idea how long they’ll last?”

“Can’t
say. If they don’t decay at all, past that little bit, they might be around
forever. If it just slowed down a whole bunch, years I guess. Their clothes are
going to rot off though. I’m sure of that.”

Briana
gave me the slightest of smiles. “A world full of naked monsters. How fun.”

That was
the first revelation of the day. The second came a few hours later, after we
had passed Denton again and were heading west toward Decatur. We spotted some
dogs on the highway. The zombies saw them as well, but they didn’t react in any
noticeable way. There were no attempts to grab and bite them, nor did they
avoid the animals. They just wandered about endlessly.

The
dogs, however, did move aside and always maintained distance between themselves
and the zombies. They didn’t growl or bark, nor did they appear to be afraid.
It was as if they understood the walking dead were simply wrong. It was
fascinating, and we spent some time wondering if this applied to all animals,
especially insects. While disgusting, the prospect of flies laying their eggs
on the zombies so maggots could eat them from the inside out was enticing. It
turned out to be wrong of course. All living creatures avoid the damn things.

*
* *

My plan
to keep the Jeep fueled, which I probably should have mentioned earlier, proved
satisfactory. Basically, I have a plastic gas container, holding two gallons,
along with a bucket, a funnel, and a long plastic tube that was left over from
when I used to have an aquarium. Using this to siphon the gas, the intent was
to never have less than a half tank and to always fill up before stopping for
the night.

The
downside was that it tended to take time, leaving a person exposed. For that
reason our first stop was next to a lone SUV resting on the shoulder of the
road. We had a clear view in all directions. There were a few zombies in the
distance, but they were too far off to be an immediate threat.

It was
an hour after refueling that I spotted another traveler.

“There!
Briana.”

She
looked up from the road atlas. “What? Hey, another car. Slow down in case they
want to talk.”

I
reflexively touched the .40 caliber automatic at my hip and the .45 that was
sitting in the slot on the driver’s door – best to be careful – and dropped the
speed after flashing my lights a few times. The other car never slowed, and as
it passed the driver hit the accelerator, to a reckless degree considering the
roads were anything but clear, and zipped on by.

“So much
for finding out anything new,” remarked Briana.

“I’d say
I’m surprised, but, ah, not really.”

“Wonder
where they were heading.”

“Looking
for family, loved ones maybe?”

I
immediately regretted my words. Briana turned away and began to fiddle with her
hair. We were an interesting pair. I had no family, and she had apparently lost
hers. Bad on both counts, but at least she knew what happened to them. There
was no lingering doubt, and there would be no need to risk ourselves searching.

*
* *

The
remainder of the day was fairly dull. We drove up the highway, slowly, and
filled the tank a second time. We ate the sandwiches, drank some water, mostly
from reusable containers I’d brought from the house – we were saving the
limited supply of bottled water for when we really needed it. Then we stopped
around 7:00 PM to fill the tank for the third and final time. It would be
getting dark in about an hour and we needed to get settled.

Finding
a grouping of three vehicles, all wrecked, I got out and retrieved the bucket
and plastic tube. Briana followed a moment later and started looking around for
any approaching zombies. There weren’t any in sight, but a single body was
lying on the ground. The man had been young, early twenties at most, and a bit
scruffy looking. His head was caved in, and the eyes lacked the strange gray
mucus that afflicted the shamblers. He’d been breathing when he was murdered.

Nothing
could be done, so we set about our business. One car was empty already. Maybe
it ran out of gas and was hit by the others? Hard to tell. The other two had
more than enough to top the Jeep off and fill the two gallon container.

“Field
plan or vacant house plan?”

“I don’t
see any isolated places.”

“Field
then.” I noticed she’d picked something up. “What you find?”

“A video
recorder, little digital one. It was next the body back there but not touching
it.” Briana made a face. The fellow had been lying in the sun for several days.
“Looked like he dropped it.”

“Huh.
Does it work?”

“Think
so. I’ll check later.”

The
field plan was pretty straight forward. I left the highway, cutting across an
empty field until I was well away from the road. There I parked. Sleeping
sitting upright was going to be uncomfortable, but at least the Jeep had air
conditioning. I couldn’t leave it running all night obviously, but if it grew
too hot, I could easily cool things down again.

We saw a
few zombies before it got dark, but they remained on the highway. None seemed
to notice us, nor did any leave the easy path the road presented. Camping this
way certainly appeared feasible, possibly even safer than trying to find and
secure a building.

Interlude – Nathan’s Story

This is
the first of the interludes I’ll be including in my narration. As with those
you’ll see later – this assumes you keep reading instead of, in the
alternative, using my work as kindling – it is the story of someone I
encountered during my journeys. Quite often it was through the exchange of
information that I learned how to better survive in our new, excitingly
dreadful world. Additionally, many of these tales are fascinating in their own
right. They should be told, and the individuals behind them remembered.

Briana
and I met Nathan when we discovered his body lying on the asphalt. Morbid, I
know. Our knowledge of his life is very limited, consisting of what we gleaned
by reviewing the video recorder. It was a cheap model, lacking any bells or
whistles, but it does have a rather long run time. Most relevant, it was turned
on when this all began. Nathan was awake during the initial change, and his
experiences are the only ones I have an actual recording of.

The
camera has a tiny view screen, smaller than the one on my iPod, and the sound
quality is simply horrendous. Still, it was more than sufficient for Briana and
I to watch and understand what transpired. I should also point out that I’m not
providing an actual transcript of what was said. The conversations are drawn
out and full of time consuming irrelevance. I will also be paraphrasing
heavily. Yes, I know that seems terribly wrong, but again, the statements are
often long, winding, and somewhat confusing. Nathan’s grammar is dreadful as
well, in a way that would have a high school English teacher spinning in her
grave, or on the highway if she was now a zombie.

Here’s a
quick background summary which will set the stage for what happened. Nathan and
his girlfriend Claire – we surmised they were dating based on their general
behavior toward one another, although there’s no way to know for certain – were
in the car, making a road trip, when the zombie uprising began. Claire was
sitting in the passenger seat playing with the video recorder.

“Look at
the camera Nathan. Nathan. Nathan, I’m paging you. Pay more attention to me.”

“I’m
driving.” He turned his head to give her a quick smile.

“Better.
Now, keep looking at me.”

“I can’t
do that Claire.” He stifled a yawn. “I need to keep us from crashing. Why are
you filming this anyways?”

“Trying
to stay awake mostly. I’ll delete it later. How much longer?”

Nathan shrugged.
“Not sure. It’ll be morning before we get there, eight o’clock maybe.”

“God,”
she moaned, shifting the camera and taking him out of the frame. “So damn
long.”

“You can
go to sleep. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah,
right.” Claire sounded tired, even as she argued against getting some rest.
“Without me keeping you awake, you’ll end up dozing off, and then we really
would crash.” The camera again showed his face. “How about some jokes,
something only a little dirty that won’t embarrass you too much when I show this
to your mom.”

“How
about I tell her of the time…” He paused as the camera began to shake. “Claire?
You okay?”

“I…”

The
camera tumbled from her hands and hit the floor by the passenger seat. It
continued to run, the sound clearly recorded. The screen, however, was black,
save for the clock in the bottom right corner. It read 3:15 AM.

“Claire!
What’s wrong!” Nathan’s voice sounded frantic.

She
cried out, clearly hurting, and the tires suddenly squealed. The video camera
rolled about, briefly catching some illumination as the interior lights came
on. Then it flipped back down against the floor mat.

“Claire,
talk to me. Talk to me!”

The next
few minutes were filled with pleading, sobbing, and a great deal of mumbling.
Then the clock reached 3:22 AM.

“Claire!
Oh, baby, thank God. I thought…” He paused. “Are you all right? You were
shaking so bad. I thought you’d… What is it?”

His
scream, a shriek of agony, echoed throughout the interior of the automobile.

“Claire!
No!” Nathan howled in pain and thrashed about. “No!”

There
was the sound of a car door slamming. Nathan was outside and could no longer be
heard. Within, all was still for just over twenty one minutes, the period in
which Claire was sated following her gory meal. Then the hunger returned, no
weaker than before, and the reanimated corpse began to move about, trying to
get free. It didn’t take long before there was a beep signaling the passenger
door had opened. Her foot even struck the camera, shifting it, though not
enough to offer any additional perspective. The sound of struggling continued
until the click of the seat belt coming undone was heard. Five minutes, that
was what it took for the zombie to figure out how to open the car door and
unfasten her safety belt.

“Stay
back! I mean it Claire.” The demands were muffled by distance and difficult to
hear.

There
was rustling as Nathan reentered the car, slamming the door behind him. Hands
could be heard hitting the glass and the faint scrape of fingernails clawing at
the window. Then the engine started, and the car roared off. For several
minutes the only sound was the thrum of the motor and the sobs of the driver,
interrupted by the occasional gasp of pain.

“What
the?”

The
engine revved as he sped up. A moment later the radio was switched on. An
emergency news cast was playing.

“…indoors.
Do not go outside. Stay inside and lock all doors and windows. We repeat, the
governor has ordered all residents of
Texas
to remain inside if possible. Due to
the level of the crisis, police and emergency personnel are unable to respond
to calls.”

Nathan
turned up the volume.

“To
recap, around the entire planet, between twenty and thirty percent of the
world’s population has collapsed without apparent cause. This occurred
simultaneously at 3:15 AM, local time. The afflicted individuals suffered
violent convulsions before collapsing. A few minutes later they regained
consciousness and began attacking all non-afflicted within reach. They have not
attacked each other. The method of attack has been primarily biting.”

The warning
to remain indoors, along with statements that the police were trying to restore
order in the streets and could not respond to specific requests for assistance,
continued to be given, interspersed with limited information concerning riots
and attacks at hospitals and other public places, the few that were frequented
at such an early hour. Then there was a very long pause as the announcer fell
silent.

“We are
getting new information,” she began. “I’m not sure if this is accurate. The
live footage I’ve just seen seems to corroborate it, and the reports are
starting come in from multiple sources. Still… I’m sorry. The afflicted appear
to be dead. It appears – I hate phrasing it this way, but I still don’t have
enough to say – sorry. Let me…” She took a deep breath. “It appears that those
afflicted died following the seizures. They were not unconscious as initially
believed. A few minutes later they rose, but are not alive. I repeat, the
afflicted individuals who are attacking the living are no longer themselves
alive.”

“I have
not seen any of this firsthand. I’m sitting in the studio’s broadcasting room
with only a single technician on night duty. We’re too high up in the building
to see the streets, but we do have a television and a computer. They’re all starting
to say, or at least suggest, that, well, that these people really are dead. I’m
going to try to get hold of some of our affiliates or reporters who might be on
the ground.”

“Wait a
second. I’ve just gotten a news bulletin from the Affiliated Press. Okay, the
president has put the military on alert, canceling all leave and calling up
all, I repeat all, reserve units. Not too sure how that’s going to be
implemented under the current circumstances, but if you are in either the
active military or reserves, you need to report for duty immediately. I’m
assuming you know where to go or that someone will contact you. I really don’t
have a lot of details. There’s nothing about our overseas forces either.”

A few
minutes later that changed.

“Okay,”
added the newscaster, her voice even more strained. “U.S. troops in
Japan
are on lockdown. Many of the facilities
are apparently being overrun by either the dead or refugees trying to flee to
safety, but the bases on
Okinawa
seem to be intact. Americans living on the island of Okinawa are instructed to
go to these bases. I’m not really sure why this was forwarded to us. We can’t
exactly reach them with our transmission signal. Oh, the tech just told me it
was a general notification.”

She
sighed. “I’m sorry. I really am. Normally, we have more people here to sort the
information and news alerts so we can give you the most relevant information. I
haven’t seen anyone come in. Judging from what’s happening, I don’t know if any
can even get here. I’m going to stay on air…”

When
Nathan switched stations the clock on the video recorder’s screen read 4:28 AM,
a little more than an hour since the change occurred.

The
reports on the other radio stations were essentially the same. There were
warnings to remain indoors intertwined with news that a large portion of
humanity had suddenly and inexplicably died, only to rise again and attack the
living. The word zombie was beginning to be uttered.

“What
the fuck? What the fuck?” Nathan was mumbling again. The pain in his voice had
diminished, but it seemed his sense of despair was growing.

A car
horn sounded in the distance, barely audible on the recording, and Nathan
pulled his vehicle to the side of the road, stopping the engine. There was a
brief pause, and he suddenly picked up the video recorder and got out of the
car. He didn’t aim it, and there was no indication he knew it was still
recording. Neither Briana nor I had any idea why he took it. The action didn’t
make much sense.

“They’re
coming!”

“What
are they?” asked Nathan. “I heard on the radio… Behind you!”

A man’s
scream pierced the air.

“You
have keys?” This was a new voice, frantic and harsh. “Give them to me!”

Nathan
swung about, and the camera revealed a pair of black jeans.

“No! You
can’t!”

“Give
them!”

The
struggle quickly escalated, and the camera fell to the pavement. The recording
ended abruptly.

That was
Nathan’s story, as complete and detailed as Briana and I could figure. He was
awake and driving down the highway with his girlfriend Claire. Like over a
billion others, she died only to come back minutes later, and she bit him. We
don’t know where he was bitten, though an arm or hand seems the most likely. He
didn’t bleed out, and Nathan was able to get away and keep driving, abandoning
the woman, the thing he’d once loved on the side of the road.

Through
his recording, unintentional though it was, we managed to hear the initial
reports given during that first hour following the change. For this I am quite
grateful. I’d always been somewhat of a news junkie, and hearing what was said
did much to assuage my curiosity. It did Nathan little good. He stopped to help
someone, maybe, and ended up murdered. His car had not been taken, and I have
no idea what happened to the man who cracked his skull open. He might now be
shambling about himself, or perhaps he’d run off. Personally, I’m hoping he
came to a bad end, killing a kid for nothing, the bastard.