Age of Decay (Book 1): Contagion (6 page)

The roads were quickly filling up with panicked residents, just as Trevor had feared. Cars were driving at high speeds, making things too dangerous to keep going. Since they had left Samantha’s house, the driving hadn’t been too bad, but that was all changing and changing fast. He didn’t know how long the roads would remain driveable and even if they would make it over the bridge. The Fraser River stood in their way, and in front of them was a lot of uncertainty. They had enough food for a few days, as well enough ammunition to see them through short engagements, but that wasn’t going to last. They would need to find supplies at some point along the way. The biggest fear Trevor had was that one of them would get a bite at some point. They needed to find more protection than just the clothes they had on their backs. Vancouver was quickly turning into a war zone, and they were caught up in the chaos around them. Up ahead, he could see that the traffic was beginning to thicken. Not a good sign.

“How much longer to the bridge?” said Jason.

“It’s several miles up there yet, but it’s not looking good. This traffic is getting thicker.”

“Trevor!” said Lauren.

He slammed on the brakes just in time as a man walked out in front of them aimlessly, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He staggered around, yelling, then disappeared across the street into a building. In front of them, another car slammed into a pole and erupted into flames. He looked out the window as a CF-18 Canadian fighter jet streaked by, firing AGM-65 Mavericks and its M61 Vulcan cannon into targets in the distance.
Must be our Boys from Cold Lake, Alberta
. Not that it would make much difference, the Canadian military wasn’t equipped to hold back the onslaught of dead that was rising.
They’ll be overwhelmed, it will be up to us to fend for ourselves, try to rebuild out of the ashes. God help us
. In the distance, he could see the smoke billowing up in a black cloud from whatever target the fighter jet had hit.
Straight into the mouth of hell, Trevor. Straight into hell
.

Two or three other cars stopped and honked their horns as the traffic ground to a halt. An overweight man in shorts got out of his truck with a shotgun in his hands. Things were going rapidly downhill as society came unglued in an orgy of violence and death. A fire burned in another building near them as sirens wailed in the distance. The once calm city of Vancouver descended into chaos as society began to fray with each passing minute.

“This isn’t the place we want to be,” said Trevor. “People are losing it, fast.”

The man walked up to the car behind him and shot point blank into the driver’s seat. A woman got out screaming, and he shot her, too. Her blood pooled out onto the concrete. He could see a few of the dead staggering around ahead, heading for their next meal. The man screamed something Trevor couldn’t understand at the top of his lungs and fired his shotgun again into another car.

“Yeah, we can’t stay here.”

“Where are we going?” asked Lauren.

“Away from this, before it erupts into hell. Can’t stay on these streets, we’ll never get through. Everyone hold on tight!” Trevor slammed on the gas and drove his caravan onto the sidewalk, through the fence and the yard of the house they were near. They crashed through the other side of the fence, barely missing a tree, into the side street away from the mass of cars trying the flee the city and the growing violence.

“What are you doing!” said Lauren. “You could have killed us!”

“Look, we can’t go that way, the roads are blocked, and you saw that guy with the shotgun. Things are getting bad out there. Jason can you check the backpacks? We may need to go out on foot if this keeps up. Use the jugs back there, and fill up our hunting canteens with water. Maybe we can find another way through one these side streets that’s not blocked.”

Samantha screamed. “There!”

There were four of the ghouls walking slowly towards them. There were three men and one woman. They wore typical business attire, and two of them had horrific bite marks on their necks. One male was missing half an arm, the rest a bloody torn stump of gore. Trevor could hear their low moans as they shambled slowly towards them. There was no going back into the traffic behind them.

“Stay in the car,” he said to Lauren. “Jason, give me a hand.”

“Yeah, Dad,” he said, as he grabbed his AR-15.

“You take the two on the right, and I’ll get the ones on the left. Don’t get too close to them.”

They took up positions by the caravan. Jason’s first shot connected into the neck of the first one, his second shot tearing into the head and exploding out the back of its head as it toppled. Trevor let another two shots which tore into the two near him as they trudged towards him. Jason aimed again and pressed the trigger. He thumbed the trigger once, but the gun was jammed. The ghoul advanced on him its jaws open, ready to strike. Trevor fumbled for another magazine, but realized it would take too long. He jumped across the hood of the vehicle, quickly drawing his hunting knife. He slammed the blade into the side of the thing’s head and twisted the blade. The thing staggered back for a brief second, then crashed to the ground.

Trevor screamed. “Fuck the damn cops for these friggen magazine capacity laws! Didn’t think about an apocalypse, did ya?”

Jason laughed. In fact, they both laughed together for a brief second.

“You okay?” said Trevor.

“Yeah. Damn gun jammed.”

“Let’s get in and go to the next intersection. Try to find a way out of this.”

They both got in, slamming the doors behind them. Trevor ran his fingers through his hair. “Trapped in a city going to hell, gotta love it.”

“Maybe we should have moved to the interior like we wanted to before,” said Lauren.

“Yeah, if I had known it would go to shit, I might have wanted to sell long ago!”

“I don’t think we would get much for it now, though,” said Lauren with a smile.
Gotta laugh, try to stay sane
.
What else can we do?

“No, not much at all.” Trevor was almost to the next intersection. Ahead of him, a wall of the dead turned, focusing right on them. Trevor stopped the vehicle.
Great just what we need. Now what genius, now what?
Sweat dripped form his temples, running down his cheek. ”We can’t go through that, they’ll swamp the vehicle.”

“Uh, you two have a plan?” said Lauren, her voice shaking.

“Working on it, working on it!’ Trevor wiped his brow.

Lauren gripped the handle of her door, her nails digging in as the dead got ever closer. “Work faster.”

“Quick,” said Trevor. “Grab the backpacks and whatever else you can. Head for the house across the street.” Trevor got out of the vehicle, then picked up his gun bag, slinging it over his shoulder. The white house was two stories tall, an older home with a porch outside and steps leading up with blue flowers and nice trees decorating the yard. The four of them ran across the street as the horde shambled down the street, drawing near.

Jason aimed his rifle, killing the first one with a good shot to the top of the head. “Get the door open, there are tons of them. Fuck!”

Lauren grabbed for the handle and turned. She pulled on the door frantically, turning around to see the dead behind her. Jason ran up the steps of the house as the horde of dead approached. “Locked, fucking locked!”

“Stand back,” said Trevor. “Cover your face.” He pulled the Glock form the holster, then fired several rounds into the door handle. He kicked at it in rapid succession. The door burst open as the dead reached the bottom of the stairs. Jason hit the first one in the head with the butt of his rifle. It staggered back, blood dripping from its mouth and shattered nose. Trevor held the door open.

“Get in, get in!” They ran inside, and he slammed the door shut behind them. He used his weight to hold the door closed as the dead began to hammer on the outside. To his side, the glass began to crack as they pounded on it.

“There.” He pointed to a bookcase. “Unload that and bring it to the door. “Hurry!”

The three of them tore the books off the shelf. They picked up the case and brought it over. Samantha screamed as the glass cracked more.

“Get that small table,” Trevor shielded his face as the glass beside him shattered. The arms clawed for his face. The thing moaned, jaws open, trying to bite. He pointed his pistol and blew apart its head as it tried to climb in. “Too many of them out there, go to the back of the house!” He moved back as they pushed harder against the door. The bookcase toppled over and the door swung open. He shot the first two point blank as the others tried to move over the barrier. Beside him, the rest of the glass gave way as hands clawed, reaching for their next meal. “Move, move. Get to the back!”

They ran through the house as fast as they could. Jason tore the door open to the backyard. As they ran out he slammed it behind him, trapping the dead inside. They were concentrating on the front of the house, but that wouldn’t last long. Through the small fence, they could see several dead in the distance ahead of them.

“We’ll go up that street.”
They are everywhere now.
Just need to get to that damn bridge, get over to the other side, out of this city
. “We can outrun them, but large groups of these are going to be a big problem. We need to avoid them as much as we can.”

“We left the food behind,” said Jason. “I got the canteens, though.”

“Good. Hold on tight to Samantha. We have to stay together as a group. No one wanders off. It would be too difficult to carry cans anyways, we’ll have to find some portable food somewhere.”

As they passed a building, Lauren peered inside. She jumped back as it pressed its head against the window, smearing the glass in saliva. Thankfully, the door was closed. “That won’t be a problem.” She gripped Trevor’s arm hard.

The street they were on was largely deserted except for an overturned car, as well as several badly mutilated corpses. Trevor stared at the one that was decapitated, its stomach torn open, flies buzzing around the hideous remains. Lauren put her hand over her mouth.

“Go,” Trevor said. They walked until they reached the top of a hill. In front of them was a small strip mall. One car was smashed into another, and as it burned, it sent thick black smoke up into the sky. Several bodies covered the ground with blood and gore. As the got closer, they could see a small group of dead trying to get into a store. Trevor look up at the name,
Ian’s Sporting Good
s. He also heard the sound of a male voice, thick with Irish accent. He took the rifle off his shoulder. “Someone’s alive behind that pack of them, I heard a voice.”

“Shouldn’t we just keep going?” said Jason. “It’s too risky.”

“No, dammit. We have to help people. Not going to be many left living if we don’t band together. Can’t be selfish. Look, you take the left, and I’ll go right. Use the cars for cover, try to draw them away from the door and pick them off.”

“Ah, ya buggers want more, do ya?” came the voice. “Ian’s got a bat for ya! Bloody bastards!”

Trevor moved closer. “Hey, we’ll draw them off of you!” he fired into the crowd of dead, dropping two of them as Jason added his own fire. The dozen or so dead lost focus on the man at the entrance to the store and turned to the two men.

As they moved away from the building, the man inside came out. He was full of rage, a bat clenched hard in his hand. His arms were like barrels, and he had a small gut. He looked to be about forty-five or so with brown hair that was receding past his temples. His lips were covered in a thick brown mustache flecked with gray. “Odds are even now,” he said. “Had ‘nough of you bastards!”

The man moved fast and brought the bat down on one, shattering its skull and streaking the bat in brains and gore. It topped over as he put his foot into two more and pushed them back. He swung the bat again and again, crushing their skulls. Trevor fired his rifle and dropped another one as Jason shot one that was near him. The man shouted obscenities as he pulverized the skull of another with quick hard strikes of the bat. The three men worked together to topple the dead. When it was all over, the man in the store had killed six of them with just a bat. He wiped sweat from his head. His arms were covered in blood and the remains of the dead.

“Nice work,” said Trevor.

“Thank ya, lad. I think I did pretty good. Thanks for the assist. Gone to hell today, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, you’re right there. Name’s Trevor. This is my son, Jason. The other two are Samantha and my wife, Lauren.”

“Pleasure. I’m Ian Patrick. Workin’ today, then got the news on my phone. These buggers began to show up. Killed a couple of people outside, then tried to get in. Thing is, the ones they killed
got up
. The buggers just got up!”

“It looks like it’s the flu. Same thing happened to my neighbors. I had to kill them. The guy’s wife just bit into him and tore off his flesh. Craziest thing I ever saw. She had been sick, like all the others.

“Bloody hell,” whispered Ian. “I tried hitting the first one in the store. Must a hit em, oh four times right in the gut. He barely moved. Wasn’t till I caved in his skull that he dropped like a rock.”

“Seems it takes a solid shot to the head to kill them. Need to destroy the brain,” said Trevor. “If they bit you, then it’s all over, you turn into one of them. Spreads the infection quite fast.”

“Damn,” said Ian. “I live several blocks form here, lad, but no way I’m goin back home, with those out here.”

“You’re welcome to come with us. Looks like you can hold your own in a fight. We’re trying to get to the Port Mann Bridge and then out of the city. I figure the interior will be safer. I got an uncle in Hope. What about your family?”

“On my own, lad. The wife died several years ago. She got bloody cancer. You’d almost welcome it now, though, if you had to pick between what these buggers got and that.”

“Sorry to hear. Hard to lose anyone. The girl there lost both her parents to this.”

“Poor child,” said Ian.

“She’ll be okay. We got to stick together. Hopefully find more survivors. What sort of gear do you have inside, maybe we can use some of it?”

“Come on in, let’s gather what we can. I’ll come with ya, nothing here for me now.”

Trevor motioned to his son. “Stay outside and watch for any of them. Gonna get some gear.”

“Sure.”

The four of them went into the store and looked around. It was a mess with stands turned over and a couple of bodies lying on the ground, their skulls smashed to ruins. Lauren winced at the smell. At one time it would be a nice store to take your kids to get that new baseball glove, but now it was merely a small sanctuary from the chaos outside, at least for a little while.

“Sorry about the mess,” said Ian. “Guess you’d say it was a rough mornin’.”

“I’ve had better myself,” said Trevor.

“Some backpacks back there. Small, compact, they could be easy to carry. I guess I got a bit of everything. Skiing, golf, baseball, hockey. Ah, lad, none of this even matters now!”

“Hockey equipment?”

“Ya, lad. All kinds of it. It’s a hockey town, after all. Couldn’t keep the bloody stuff in stock.”

Trevor smiled and slapped Ian on the shoulder. “Ian, you just gave me a great idea.”