The Reaper Virus (36 page)

On the far side of the station previously
hidden from my view by shrubs was a shiny gold Dodge Magnum. I
smiled. It was nice to be right every now and then, not to mention
I hated that model car with a passion. Everything about it was
ugly, but most important was how it would react to what I was about
to do…

The short-barrel Remington came out of its
storage place without a fight. Straddling the bike, I kicked along
until the car was angled about eight feet ahead. I held it tight
and pumped a shell into the breach. I was ready to throw up not
fully knowing what was about to happen.

Thunder boomed from the weapon and a spray of lead
burst out of the barrel, which tore into the ugly car. Immediately
the vehicle screamed its alarm. I had hoped it would be much louder
than it was. For a second I wondered if the low volume was just
because of the after effects of shooting a shotgun without ear
protection, but then I knew it was just this piece of shit car
getting the last laugh.

I jumped into pedaling and went to the store
front. Again lead exploded out, shattering the window of the tacky
storefront. Many of the neon signs crashed to the shelves below
them now, the glass no longer offering support. The most surprising
result of my vandalism was the commercial burglary alarm that
wailed in response. I couldn’t believe it still had the backup
power to completely deafen me.

“That ought ‘a do it!” I shouted over the
ruckus. The barrel of the shotgun still felt hot when I tucked it
back into the pack. I would have taken the time to do a better job,
but knew that I’d have a lot of company very soon. I could see the
first of them already coming around the corner where I’d
entered.

My pedaling was so frantic that I lost
balance. I wobbled into a parked mini-van. The bike sideswiped it
and set off the van’s alarm. It certainly couldn’t hurt. When I was
almost at the side exit I turned to see if the plan was working.
Much to my delight I saw dozens of the dead staggering into the
lot. I biked as fast as I could through the turn and up towards the
intersection. Hopefully enough of them had cleared out, but if not
I’d need to be ready. I reached back and pulled the Taurus out of
its holster, carefully switching it to my right hand. After a
second of shifting I was able to hold the handlebar and the gun at
the same time.

Much to my dismay the area wasn’t empty. I
saw at least fifteen of them gathered around an RV stalled in the
middle of the intersection. Something about it had their attention.
I knew then that trapped survivors must be the true draw of the
horde. There was enough of a clearing where I could have zipped by
them. I’d done so many deplorable things in the last day that
redemption could not come from selfishness, even if that
selfishness was meant to save the ones I love.

I changed course and went towards the motor
home. A few of the outermost undead left mingling noticed food
approaching quickly. I shouted towards the siege battered vehicle,
“If anyone is alive in there…” I raised the pistol and tried to
take aim while yelling, “I need you to yell back! I’ll try to clear
out enough for you to run for it!”

If I didn’t hear a response in the next
second I was going to turn away. I listened intently past the
clamoring of the undead. My heart sunk from hearing nothing back.
The wheel began to turn when I heard it, “We’re here!” I was so
shaken by the response that I almost flew off the bike and into
hungry arms.

I took aim at the RV’s door. The first two
shots missed to an embarrassing degree. It was not often that I got
to fire a pistol, let alone from a moving bicycle. After wasting a
couple of rounds I hadn’t dropped a single zombie. My bullets
missed, but the gunfire made me a prime target. Slowly but surely
the creatures vacated the entrance to the motor home and headed
towards me. At least ten of them trotted in my direction. Their
current course would be my undoing. I screeched to a stop so that I
could aim. The lead reaper was thrown off balance with a round to
the hip. “Come on, Nathan,” I scolded myself, “if this were the
climax of a movie I’d turn if off and read a book.”

As the zombie with a newly shattered hip spun
around, I gained some needed aiming perspective. In the time it
took me to pull the trigger and adjust my aim I succeeded in
dropping four of the bastards to the ground. The hungry flock had
become so ravenous being close to me that they bunched together. My
kill shots created a wall the rear zombies tripped on.

For the first time I could see the door to
the motor home past the writhing group. “GO NOW!” I hollered at the
vehicle. The gore beaten door began to move from the inside out. A
man jumped out with a baseball bat. He looked dirty and weathered.
One of the infected came around the side of the bumper towards him.
Without hesitation this bedraggled man swung at the beast. I
couldn’t see the result of his attack due to my eyes being fixed on
the door. Another person, a small, but fierce looking woman, jumped
out wearing a camping style frame pack and holding a two-by-four
embedded with nails.

They both stood like deer in the headlights.
The woman was shielding her eyes from the late day light. God only
knew how long they had been trapped inside that RV. Their gazes
were fixed on me and the beasts between us. I can’t imagine what
they were thinking. I’m sure they were wondering if this battle
weary, well-armed man was a threat. One of the undead rose from the
barricade and lunged at me. The round I fired caught him at the
hairline. His rotting forehead distorted as the bullet effectively
scalped the ravenous reaper. Several zombies remained nearby. Soon
we would have much more company after my car alarm bait lost its
appeal. The frightened couple froze at the door. The three of us
had precious seconds before the swarm returned.

I wanted to guide these people to safety.
After all the wrongs I had done, the two of them could be my
redemption. However prominent that desire may have been, I knew
what the last two days had brought me. Trust had been the source of
salvation and near undoing. I was so close to being home. If I took
them I might not make it home by dark. The debate raged inside me.
How were these people going to make it out of there if I didn’t
help? But if I kept riding at a good pace I’d be with Sarah and the
kids within the hour. I looked down the street I’d come out of and
saw seven eager creatures approach. Another one of the members of
my fleshy blockade cleared enough to take a swipe at me. I sent the
final nine millimeter round into her black eye socket.

My finger tapped the magazine release button.
I ejected it and wedged the empty clip in my belt line and grabbed
a fully loaded magazine from the pack. I jammed it into the Taurus
and took aim again. The desperate couple was whispering to each
other. I’m sure they were having a conversation similar to my
thoughts about the prospects for future survival. One of the
creatures between us turned back towards them. I fired a bullet
into his neck. It was not a kill shot, but dropped him to the
ground in a twitching pile of evil.

This had gone on too long already. I pointed
my left arm towards the far tree line. “GO GODDAMNIT!” Their eyes
grew wide knowing now that I wouldn’t be offering sanctuary. “Run
for the trees and just stay ahead of them. Aim for the head and
DON’T let them surround you!” The man nodded in acknowledgement.
His female companion said nothing at all. A noise turned me around.
One of the seven pursuers had gotten too close. I painfully twisted
my back around to aim, dropping the creature in two shots. Flipping
back around, I saw the couple running down the street towards the
tree line.

I remounted the bike and pedaled through a
rapidly closing gap, graced by the assistance of downhill gravity.
I flew down the hill and away from the excited crowd around the
motor home, wondering about the people I’d just saved. Did I really
save them? Or did I just get them killed? The nameless couple would
have to fight just as I had. My valiant efforts served only as a
reminder that there was no such thing as survival anymore. In the
end every one of us was just exploiting time borrowed from the
dead.

* * *

1617 hours:

The sky was growing dark again. This time the
day before I was desperately fighting to reach a safe overnight
haven, but now I had no intention of spending another night
exposed. I knew I would be home by nightfall. If I happened to fall
short by the time darkness consumed the land, then I still wouldn’t
stop. I’d fight through anything now, even if it meant experiencing
the supposed enhanced hunting ability of the undead at night.

Winds created by the coasting build-up in
speed bit my battered face. I found the numbness that washed over
my exposed skin to be somewhat soothing. The generous slope gave me
a chance to catch my breath and assess the landscape. Every now and
then I would pass by some remnant of humanity, be it a suitcase, an
abandoned car, or the graphic remains of a person. I never traveled
far between dreaded testimonials to this new order. Before the end,
I went through there twice a day. It’s easy to let your guard down
in an area you frequent.

There was a small stretch of level ground
between inclines. First I’d pass a public library set off a winding
drive to the right. Then a Sheetz gas station was dug into the same
side, but that was after the start of the coming hill. I’d spent
many lunches there with the kids. The design of that particular
fast food market had always amused me. Ever since the first time I
saw it, I thought of it as a fort. Although that wasn’t difficult
thanks to the brick retaining wall and the way it jutted out of the
hillside. Maddox started commenting that the place looked like some
of the Civil War sites we’d visited. It made me proud to see the
budding historical fanaticism I’d instilled within him. My
grandfather would have been equally as proud knowing I had passed
on the family love of everything that once was.

The hill that contained Sheetz should be the
last I had to climb. Afterwards, the road leveled out to more
shopping centers. Fortunately for me, my way home would be a few
turns after that. I could avoid the shopping areas by turning off
Hull Street and going a less direct way around. The excitement from
being so close was overwhelming. Moreover, anticipation blinded me
to a hidden danger.

“Stop there or I’ll put a bullet through your
head!” a voice shouted from my right.

I panicked, skidding to a stop. Not a second
later I felt confident momentum wouldn’t send me over the bars. My
left hand unconsciously moved towards the holster nestled to my
back. I kept my eyes forward despite the command to stop. Whatever
was unfolding had reduced me to employ that juvenile sense of
safety through a lack of acknowledgement.

“If your hand moves another inch towards that
gun I swear to God I’ll kill you!” The commands were unflinching. I
couldn’t take the chance that this was a bluff. My hand moved back
to its home on the handlebar. “Wise move there, Officer. Wheel that
shiny bike on over here.”

Heeding the order, I kept my feet off the
pedals. My gaze shifted towards the source of the threats. It came
from the entrance drive to the library. At first I didn’t see
anything. Then he appeared. A man stood up from kneeling behind a
chest high sign advertising the, “La Prade Library”. The glint of a
scope topping the large hunting rifle in his arms gave his threats
merit. I stepped over, my legs still straddling the Cannondale.

“Sir,” I said to the stranger, my eyes
seeking his for contact. I hoped that he might be reasoned with if
he looked into the eyes of someone still living. Thanks to the
fading light and shadow formed by his hat, my efforts were in vain.
“Sir, I don’t care who you are or what you’re doing here… I’m just
passing through trying to get home before dark.”

“You don’t have to care. I’m staking claim
here! You can’t expect to ride through here with all those nice
toys and have
me
not care,” he
smirked.

I was insulted that an unfathomable number of
people had died, yet this piece of trash still lived. “You can stop
whatever selfish thought you are thinking
right
now
. I’ve come too far to play this game with you!”

The tension was escalating at a lethal rate.
I just wanted to pass and get home. After everything I’d been
through, it was simply unfair to be stopped by some redneck with a
despot complex. My response didn’t bode well with the stranger.

“You threatenin’ me, Officer? I don’t give
two shits about your badge... if anyone asks I’ll just say you were
a mother fuckin’ zombie with some sweet, sweet loot.”

All this time I continued to step closer.
Only six feet separated us. It was amazing we hadn’t brought in any
infected. Although, it was possible that we had and just hadn’t
seen them yet. Something had to be done, otherwise the coming
gunshots would bring about the entire horde up the street. I still
hoped reason could prevail.

“I’m not a cop, alright?! Listen, I just
worked for them. All I want to do is go home to my fam—”

“You’re not a cop? Well that… that’s too bad.
Killing some security guard isn’t any fun.” His voice was oddly
shaky. This couldn’t be how it ended.

Another voice came from behind him. Our
standoff had created such a tangible tension that we were both
taken completely off guard. “Dad… Mom says we have to lock up
before dark.” The few cars in the drive had concealed the girl’s
approach. My eyes directed towards the new voice. The stranger’s
eyes and gun pointed the same way. “Dad, who is—”

I saw opportunity and took it. My right hand
found the grip of the shotgun. After using it recently I knew there
could only be a few shells left inside. Honestly, it didn’t matter
what was loaded in the weapon; I had no intention of using it. The
man swung his rifle back to me. I think only a nervously shaking
hand spared everyone the horror that would have come from his
jerking the trigger. He saw the barrel of the twelve-gauge
Remington and froze.