Infection: Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (13 page)

Dr. Caldwell checked the phones...out of service. Officer Ivanoff grabbed some bread, some peanut butter, and, lacking jelly, some honey from the pantry to put together some sandwiches. He also grabbed a nearly full bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream and four Styrofoam cups.

The fourth person in their party, a woman by the name of Dana, went immediately to the bathroom and hadn’t been seen since, though occasionally all of them could hear her sobbing. It was okay though. They all felt like that. The doctor was just spent emotionally. As he watched the images from the local news network splay themselves across the screen, he might as well have been watching The Food Network or possibly The Weather Channel. None of it was new. It barely caught his attention...until the reporter began to talk about the line of defense that seemed to be holding.

“What was that last bit?”

Emma, still wearing the helmet, peeked up at him from beneath the red, white, and blue paint on her headgear and welcomed him back with a smile. “They’ve set up some kind of barrier at the Knik Bridge crossing.”

“Barrier my ass. I bet they’ve blown the bridge. I wonder how long they can hold there?
Who’s
holding there? Is there any news or advice for holdouts in Anchorage?”

“The last thing I heard the guy say about it was that authorities had lost all contact with Anchorage. It didn’t sound too good. Sounded like maybe we might be it.”

“What about Fort Richardson and Elmendorf?”

“Those that were able were evacuated. There is still sporadic resistance on Fort Rich, but there is no contact with those groups or individuals.”

The doctor, impressed by her report, said, “That was very thorough.”

“Thanks. I’m a transcriptionist. It paid to have good instant recall.”

“I believe that. You doin’ okay?”

“Okay? Are you? I mean, what does that even mean anymore?
Is
there okay anymore?”

The police officer handed each of them a cup with some Bailey’s and a napkin with half a sandwich on it. He said by way of apologies, “It was the best I could do.”

The doctor nodded and thanked him. They ate their meal in silence, except for the unfolding news on the television and an occasional sob from the bathroom. Soon though, there was only silence other than the TV.

Standing at the window, Officer Ivanoff observed, “The days are already getting shorter. It’s still early but it’ll be dark in a handful of hours. We stayin’ here for the night or trying our hands at movin’ on to someplace else?”

Emma suggested that Dana be involved in the discussion. They hadn’t really checked on her in at least an hour either, so she walked to the bathroom door and knocked softly. No response. “Dana, you okay in there?” Still no response. “Dana?” Nothing.

The two men were already on their feet. While Emma continued to solicit any word from inside, the doctor and police officer leaned into the door and eventually broke it from the simple and insubstantial frame. There, on the floor of the bathroom, lay Dana, apparently unable to face the events of the day, and instead elected to swallow a bottle of pills taken from the medicine cabinet and then cut her wrists with a razorblade removed from a man’s razor. On the floor around her was a mixed pool of deep red blood and foamy white vomit.

Dr. Caldwell dropped to his knees beside the woman and checked her heart. “I think I can hear a faint heartbeat. She barely has a pulse but it’s there.”

Emma laid her hand on the doctor’s shoulder and said somberly, “Let her go, Doc. We don’t know what she lost today. Maybe she knew that this was the best thing for her.”

The police officer, eyes agape, offered, “But it’s a sin. We can’t just sit back and let her eternal soul be damned.”

The doctor looked at the other man, considering what he said. Emma however was nonplused by the suggestion and decided to fire back. She said, “You think it could be any worse than this? Besides, maybe she didn’t buy into that story.”

“It doesn’t matter whether she believed in the Truth or not. The Truth is just that: Truth. Her belief or lack of doesn’t diminish that. As a Christian, I...”

Emma, chuckling lightly, said, “You can still, after all that has happened today, believe in some benevolent God sitting in the clouds on some big Lazy Boy Recliner watching his creation unfold? That is either unshaken faith or just sheer delusion. Either way, I really don’t want to hear any more of that horseshit. We got a deal? I won’t belittle your mythology and you don’t thank or praise God for every Goddamned thing that happens. ‘Kay?”

Stung, the police officer stood up and walked away. Catching the doctor’s questioning look, she said, “Sorry. I guess I’ll go apologize to him too. I just have to hear that nonsense from a coworker all the time and it drives me crazy. Everything is ‘we Christians think that’ and ‘we Christians believe’. I just can’t stand hearing it anymore. Especially if the amount of time I got left here can be possibly measured in hours, I really don’t want to hear any proselytizing. Is it too much to ask?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Dr. Caldwell answered honestly. He was completely distracted and unable to concentrate on anything at hand. Again, he thought of his family. He was glad that his children were away at college already. They were conceivably safe and away from this horror. His concern for his wife was immense, however. Maybe she’d been able to get out before all hell had broken loose. Maybe she was able to connect with some other survivors and find themselves a good hiding spot. He doubted it though. This thing had begun at such an early hour of the morning and spread so quickly. He wondered if it would at least be quick for her. He didn’t want her to have to suffer. She didn’t deserve that. She was just too good a person and too good a wife to deserve it. He also knew though that the kind of death that struck these victims was anything but quick and was nothing but suffering. To be gnawed and chewed and clawed and eaten was hellish. The anguish was inconceivable. He felt sick to his stomach again. They stooped there over Dana for a quiet few moments. Neither of them was sure when heart and breathing stopped, but the next time the physician checked her pulse it was gone. Not even an echo of life.

Emma disappeared for a moment and then reappeared with a sense of urgency to her step. “I think the cop flew the coop. He’s gone.”

“He’s what?”

“He’s gone. He’s nowhere down here. I went down there to apologize and the front door was open and he’s gone.”

“And he’s got our only gun.”

Emma smiled and said proudly, “That’s the other thing we gotta talk about.” She raised the shoebox she was holding and said, “I found this.” In the box was a black revolver and a box of shells. It looked like a .357 Magnum; probably a Smith and Wesson. It looked big and powerful and comforting. “It was sitting on the table in the hall near the door leading to the garage. Driver probably set it down going through the door and then forgot about it.”

Dr. Caldwell smiled and said, “Good find my friend.”

Emma smiled back and handed the box to the doctor. Loaded and in his belt, the gun did deliver a certain sense of security. He and Emma moved Dana’s body to the backyard and covered her with a blue tarp. Neither of them knew Dana. They didn’t even know her last name. They stood quietly after covering her and looked down at the blue plastic package. Without a word, the doctor hoisted Dana up under her shoulders and Emma grabbed her feet, each hoping that they wouldn’t upset the tarp covering the expired soul beneath. They carried her further into the yard and laid her out near a small garden that was doing its best to yield a modest crop of carrots, cabbage, and lettuce, despite the cool air.

Emma asked, “Should we say something?”

Dr. Caldwell didn’t know. He wasn’t a priest. In fact, he wasn’t very religious at all and couldn’t recall any Bible verses to recite. He had never been that interested in church or religion. It just wasn’t in his nature. He wasn’t one who mocked the religious though. And then it hit him. He looked up from the tarp-covered body and recited, “Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player. That struts and frets his hour upon the stage. And then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing.”

After a quiet few seconds, Emma said, “Kind of nice, Doc, but kind of cold too.”

“It’s the best I could do under such short notice.”

“Was that Shakespeare?”

“Yeah,
Macbeth,
I think.”

They stood there quietly for a bit longer, Dana’s quick memorial service being extended, for each of them, to all those they had seen fall during the day and all those that were to fall in the coming hours and days. The silence was nearly absolute. There were neither birds nor insects lending their voices to the day’s choir. The doctor looked up at the woman and was going to ask what the plan was now when they both heard that stampede sound again. The sound all at once filled the void and it was getting louder and louder by the moment.

It had been an hour since Officer Ivanoff had struck out on his own. Standing on the woodpile leaning against the seven foot cedar privacy fence, the doctor could see the man running as hard as he could trying to get back. And immediately on his heels was a crowd of a hundred or more of the beasts chasing him.

Dr. Caldwell shouted at Emma to get over the fence and set out across the adjacent woods. He thought he could see other houses on the far side of the small wooded lot. Maybe they could get over there and find some safety. If the ghouls could be stalled long enough getting through the fence, perhaps they could get some distance between themselves and their pursuers.

Emma didn’t hesitate. She picked up a five-gallon bucket partially filled with birdseed and covered tightly with a heavy-duty plastic lid. She set the bucket against the fence and, using it for an extra lift, hoisted herself up and over. The doctor tried to get the police officer’s attention. He shouted, “Go over the fence! Use the bucket and get over the fence! We’ll meet you in the woods! Don’t look back! You can make it!”

The doctor got down from the wood and then got himself over the fence. He felt better having the storm behind him. The sound was slightly muted thanks to the houses and fences separating him from it. He saw Emma just ahead of him and increased his pace slightly to catch her. She jumped and screamed slightly as he touched her on the shoulder.

They emerged in another neighborhood with another street and more houses. The sound was still thankfully behind them. They were standing in a dead end cul-de-sac that was perhaps five houses deep with three houses situated on the curving court. It was pretty standard suburban planning. It also looked as deserted as the area from which they had just departed.

Emma, out of breath, panted, “Looks like everyone left in a hurry.”

“Yeah, a big hurry. Such a hurry that someone forgot their car.” He pointed to a car that was sitting in the middle of a driveway across from them, driver’s side door hanging open.

Emma looked at the doctor and then at the gun tucked into his belt. Like a gunslinger walking into the OK Corral, he pulled the revolver from his belt. He pulled the eager hammer back to have the gun at the ready. He knew that it wasn’t the safest way to hold the firearm, but he was comfortable with his decision. He didn’t feel like he could afford any delays.

With trepidation flavoring each footstep, the two of them moved forward. They arrived at the car without incident. Emma kept an eye out as the doctor checked in the car. It was a little Subaru Forester, an older model but still in very good shape. It wouldn’t be a bad car in which to make a getaway.

Meanwhile, Emma heard a sound emanating from behind the closed garage door. She stepped cautiously to the door and listened. Nothing. She knocked two quick raps on the heavy door and waited. Her response was a rasping, guttural, ravenous groan and fingernails clawing at the other side of the closed door. She retreated from the sound as if she had been touched by something very hot or very cold. She turned and saw a disappointed doctor looking at her.

“Keys?”

“I’m afraid not. What’s in the garage?”

“I think it’s more of those things. Maybe the folks who were loading this car. Maybe they got attacked and retreated into there with one of them already bitten. That one died and then we know what happened. They were trapped and there they stayed trapped.”

The doctor added, “Yeah, but the real tragedy is that the keys to this rig are in the pockets of one of those things in there. Right now this car is just a big paperweight. Unless of course one of us wants to go in there and get the keys.”

“No, I think that...”Emma trailed off and then continued more hopefully, “Hey Doc, is there a purse in there?”

“Yeah.”

“Look for keys in it. Maybe the wife left hers in there for us.”

Leaning in, Dr. Caldwell yelled triumphantly, “Emma, you’re a fucking genius. You really are.”

Their celebration was cut short when the slanted front panes of glass from the house’s south facing solarium exploded outward. The shards of flying glass were followed by a thrashing and desperate ghoul who was made all the more horrific by the dozens of cuts and deep gashes inflicted upon him by jumping through the window. He hit the still moist grass and tried to continue running, but instead, slipped clumsily and fell, rolling onto the paved sidewalk. Seemingly unfazed by the misadventure, the creature leapt to its feet and was starting to run toward the doctor, who was still leaning inside the car and in shock. Emma screamed for the doctor to do something, anything. He couldn’t swing himself around though. He got his hands on the keys tightly, hooked his arm up and around, and then tossed the keys to Emma before the thing could get its hands on him.