The Last Outbreak (Book 1): Awakening (6 page)

Snow began to fall as Griffin stepped away from the rear door of the SUV. The intermittent winds pushing in through the lower elevations sent reams of white powder from the elevated tree line out onto the roadway. The light dusting filtered in through the opened rear doors, clinging to the SUV and blurring the lines between where the asphalt ended and the forest began.

Calling out for the man from the passenger seat, his arms started to cramp and his lungs were on fire. Performing CPR on the man who face-planted out on the roadway wasn’t working. The third man continued his efforts from the rear seat as Griffin shouted across the vehicle. “He’s not responding.”

“What do we do?”

“He needs to get to a hospital,” Griffin said. “But, it’s probably already too late.”

“This doesn’t look good, we gotta get out of here. Let’s go back to that town.”

“And what? Just leave him in the car, out in front of the hospital and then catch the next bus out of town?”

“You got a better plan?”

Looking back into the SUV, Griffin shook his head. “I don’t know, but we do need to get the hell out of here.” Stepping to the driver’s door, he said, “Where are the keys?”

“Try Joe’s pockets.”

The man from the second row stepped out of the SUV and waved the others over. “Uh, there’s something you guys need to see. It’s Joe.”

“Did you get him breathing?” Griffin said.

“No, that’s not it. He’s got a pretty good gash on his right arm. It looks like he was bitten.”

“So?”

“I don’t know, it just looks weird and he’s lost a lot of blood. Do you think that homeless guy bit him?”

Turning back to the SUV, the light reflecting off the chrome mirrors preceded the sound of tires gripping the roadway by only a fraction of a second. Instinctively diving into the thick underbrush at the side of the road, Griffin managed only a brief glimpse of the massive collision, and the other two men caught between the transport vehicle and the SUV.

The man from the passenger seat was the first hit. He was unaware of the approaching bus and was still walking back to the SUV when he was struck. Clipped by the left front bumper, he was thrown nearly thirty feet.

Floating away amongst the falling snowflakes, Griffin lost sight of the man’s body as it twisted violently around a massive sequoia and then dropped to the undergrowth below. The image and sound were distorted as the bus came into full view and struck the last man.

Momentarily pinned between the front bumpers of both vehicles, the man’s body and facial expression went slack. As the SUV went airborne and separated momentarily from the bus, the body dropped to the pavement and slid face-first to the opposite side of the road.

Griffin scrambled to his feet as the bus began to drift to the right after the collision. It was thrown onto its side and showed no signs of slowing as it moved toward him and the dense patch of trees at his back. Sparks rose from the right and left sides, as it appeared to gain momentum sliding downhill across the snow dusted asphalt.

The slope he came to rest on was blocked in on three sides. The only way to avoid having the gargantuan bus drift off the highway and directly into him was to go toward it. Scaling the short ascent, he begged his legs for more.

As it sunk in that he would be unable to completely clear the scene, Griffin took two more steps forward and turned his back on the charging giant. He wrapped his arms around his head and braced for a direct hit.

Brilliant flashes of white lightning shot across his eyes as he went airborne. Shockwaves of agony traveled from his hips up into the base of his neck and then back down to his feet as he tumbled head over heels between the trunks of two large trees. On his back and sliding to a stop in the thick underbrush, he listened for his own heartbeat.

The world went silent as Griffin came to rest ten feet beyond the windshield of the bus. Covered in upturned soil and craning his neck from right to left, the pain running the length of his body appeared to only be superficial. Pulling his legs toward his chest and rounding his shoulders, he took in a deep breath. “So, I’m still here, I just hope that’s a good thing.”

Pushing up onto his feet, he ran his hands up and down his legs and over his torso. Other than the feeling that every nerve ending covering his six-foot frame had been lit on fire, he appeared to have avoided any serious damage. He could walk and for the moment had full use of his extremities. He was now obligated to help with the chaotic mess just inside the bus at his feet.

Grasping the underside of the wheel-well, Griffin pulled his way up to the hillside in time to see the SUV fully engulfed in flames. As he moved to the opposite end, the blaze began to spread to the bus where the two touched, near the larger vehicle’s rear roofline.

Griffin moved quickly between the two men with whom he’d spent the last several hours, both having sustained fatal injuries when thrown from the roadway. Still unable to completely understand this situation or how he got here, he took a full trip around both vehicles, searching for a spot to climb onto the bus and get to those who had begun to scream for help.

Back to the front end, Griffin was left with only one option. Running back toward the SUV, he searched the forest floor and came away with the base of the tire jack. Having to slide Joe’s body aside, a chill tore through his body as he paused and imagined the grotesquely deformed man’s eyes opening.

Back to the bus’s windshield, Griffin stepped to the side and hoisted the thirty pound jack overhead. Arching back and then leaning in, he catapulted the awkwardly heavy metal object at the corner of the already cracked glass.

The windshield splintered into a thousand pieces and crumbled onto the passenger compartment. Reaching in, he retrieved the jack and slid it out of the way. His hand on the steering wheel, Griffin squatted down and gazed into the wrecked interior. As the cries for help and the flames grew at the rear of the bus, Griffin stepped inside. “I’m gonna need some help.”

The only other resident employed by BXF Technologies was Shannon. Her job title was receptionist, but Ethan suspected she was much, much more. She was courteous, but deeply private. Most days she wore a fire engine red blouse and jet black polyester slacks. She lived on the opposite side of town and was never seen out of her home after sunset. Considerate and attractive, she was also agonizingly professional.

She offered Ethan and David a greeting each and every morning, and not much conversation beyond that. She showed up at eight in the morning, every morning. She promptly shut down her computer at five in the afternoon and rarely if ever left the building. You could set your clock by this woman. But not today. Today at exactly nine-fifteen the second floor, and more importantly her desk, sat vacant.

David shoved Ethan forward at the top of the stairs and moved to the office in the corner. “So? Where’s your girl?”

“My girl?”

“Yeah,” David said. “There is no way you can tell me you don’t have a thing for that woman. I’ve known you way too long and have seen the way you look at her.”

“You need to get your eyes checked then, she has no interest in the opposite sex. And she especially has no interest in me, anyone can see that.”

David moved to the desk that sat ten feet from the floor-to-ceiling, plate-glass windows overlooking the majority of the city. “I didn’t say she was into you, she would have to be out of her mind to have anything to do with a bum like you. But you’re pretty transparent. I don’t think I’ve seen you go more than five minutes without staring at her.”

“Yeah, she’s an attractive woman, but I’m not really looking for—”

Now seated at the computer, David finished logging their run. “Hey, were you able to get to your email last night before we left?”

“Yeah, just a few from Emma. She was in New York meeting with you know who. She was originally going to come through this weekend, but wanted to avoid those insane chili cook-off fanatics.”

“You know what’s weird, I didn’t see any of them out this morning. I know a few of them had the same kind of night we did, but usually they’re out setting up by now. You remember last year don’t you?”

Ethan moved away from the desk and over to the window overlooking Second Street. “Yeah, I remember not being able to leave my apartment for two days. Those chili-heads were everywhere. I walked more that weekend than in my entire life. It was hell.”

“Okay,” David said. “Then where the hell is everyone? The streets are empty and the fact that Shannon’s not here is a bit disturbing.”

Ethan laughed. “I love that you seem just as put off by Shannon not being here as you are by the entire city looking like a ghost town. You are too good for words.”

“Let me ask you this,” David said. “Has she ever been one minute late? Has she ever called in sick? Has that women ever even taken one day off since we started?”

“I don’t really—”

“We’re back up, the Wi-Fi seems to be working, and you have three emails from Emma, all before six this morning. And all of them marked urgent.”

“Oh boy, what’s it this time? Another double-run today?”

“Not quite. It’s the same three messages. Just worded differently. It looks like she just really needs to talk to you. She wants you to call her ASAP.”

“Hey,” Ethan said. “Don’t we have her on speed dial on the house phone?”

David slid the phone across the desk, closed his email, and opened a browser window, first checking the local forecast. “We’re gonna get some snow today. Should be fine. You able to get Emma on the phone?”

Shaking his head, Ethan said, “Nope, lines are dead. Let’s just get this run out of the way and I’ll call her from my phone later.”

“You sure? Sounds like she really needs to talk to you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her send an email marked urgent.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s just looking to give me crap about being late. And by the time I call her, hopefully she will have calmed down, so it’s a win-win. Let’s go.”

David couldn’t erase what he’d seen earlier at Ethan’s apartment and even if it was on the other side of the country, he wanted more information. Heading to the various news sites he frequented, the images along the front page were alarming. “Ethan, you need to see this.”

Ethan moved from the opposite side of the desk and slid in beside his friend. “See what?”

“That stuff from the news, it’s everywhere.”

People, who otherwise appeared normal attacked one another, almost as if possessed. From the awkward angles of a majority of the shots, most taken from a distance, these individuals moved like animals. The aggressors pursued their prey without reason or a sense of self-preservation. As David flipped through the major video sharing sites, new clips were uploaded faster than he could view them. “What the hell is going on?”

“Click that one on the right, titled…
Feeders.
”

As the video began, the first few seconds jumped around like a marble in a coffee can. Nothing on the screen could be seen for more than a millisecond. Obviously someone running, every desperate breath more pronounced than the one before. As it hit the twenty second mark, the video momentarily went black and then was quickly turned onto its side, the camera pointing directly at the latest victim.

The sound had been muted and the lower third of the frame was occupied by a slow moving river of what looked like charred motor oil. It ran from the massive wound at back of the victim’s head and slowly pooled around the camera. As the lens refocused, the image became clear.

Only the top of the aggressors head and shoulders were visible as he moved on his hands and knees into the frame and leaned over his victim’s face. Thrusting his head forward and pulling away multiple times, the video paused and then restarted. As the thing that was supposed to be human pulled away, David shot back in his chair. “OH. MY. GOD.”

As his friend slid backward, Ethan leaned in. “He just tore off that guy’s face, look.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But what is it that I am actually seeing. What in the world is wrong with that guy?”

“Drugs?”

“No,” David said. “This stuff is happening in too many places. It has to be some sort of a virus—a plague or something. Maybe terrorism, I don’t know.”

As the video continued to roll and the two friends looked on, the much smaller man on top began to claw at his prey. One repulsive handful of flesh at a time, he pulled the larger man apart. Not satisfied with what he’d seized with his teeth, the crazed individual leaned back and began forcing the blood-soaked shards of skin from his victim’s chest and abdomen into his mouth.

As the larger man flailed in agony and then rapidly went still, David paused the video and looked away. “This isn’t right, it can’t be. Normal people don’t act like that.”

Scrolling through the images along the right side of the page, David turned to his friend. “Ethan, this one is from the city.”

“Okay?”

“What about your parents?”