The Reaper Virus (38 page)

I rounded another corner. Although night
prevented me from seeing it, I know what was ahead. This was the
part in my street where the kids would always get excited on walks.
We would enjoy sunny days by marching along this same stretch.
Emerging from the shadow of a huge oak tree, either Calise or
Maddox would happily say, “I see our house!” They would both giggle
sweetly. “Yup! There it is!” I would jovially say back to my
darling children. Back in the evil reality, I smiled. A muffled
whisper escaped my cracked lips, “
I see our
house…
”

The joy quickly gave way to despair. It only
took another moment for my vision to register the blockade Sarah
warned me of. A car had taken out the stop sign at the corner,
jumped the dip in my neighbor’s absurdly well-manicured lawn, and
crashed into the addition to his house. Through the pitch of night,
a handful of creatures revealed themselves. It didn’t look like
debris blocked the entrance to the cul-de-sac. The only obstacle
I’ll have to contend with is that of the infected.

Every foot brought about more clarity. I
couldn’t slow down, not this close. I peddled harder. My lungs
stopped pumping air and seethed with desire for that day to end.
Every dilated, infected pupil focused on the two-wheeled buffet.
They converged on where I had to ride. I knew I had to punch
through them and make it to the yard. If I delayed, I’d be bringing
too many of them to the fence. That was… if I made it to the fence
at all.

My hand found the Taurus nestled in its
holster. I racked my brain trying to remember if I had enough
bullets in the loaded magazine. If memory served me correctly, I
had eight rounds to fire. There were at least nine zombies closing
on me. Time slowed to a crawl.

Why do the shittiest moments pass the
slowest?

Muzzle flashes from my pistol bathed the area
like lightning. I couldn’t even tell if the bullets hit their mark.
Chances of them striking any re-killing shots were one in a
million. My approaching velocity combined with every extenuating
circumstance formed unfair odds. I think one of them dropped down
for good. The tearing impacts of my munitions shook others. Seeing
that, I focused my fire on one area. If I couldn’t make a hole
large enough to fly through then my trek would end there.

One of the reapers took some lead to his
shoulder. He flipped around and dropped down to the ground. Two of
his undead colleagues joined him in the fall. That created my
gateway. I fired again, expecting the pistol to be empty.
Fortunately for me, a final bullet burst forth and punched through
the eye of a woman lunging for my tire. The collision course
reached its end and I braced for impact.

Creatures flanked me on both sides. The
moment froze in time.
I was going to make
it
. By the grace of God, I cleared enough room to make it
through. After all that time, the limited view ahead finally
included my home. The gate for my backyard fence was to the left.
Cemented into my right hand was the nine-millimeter. Panic kept the
empty weapon in my hands. I pushed my gun-containing fist against
the Cannondale’s grip in order to brace for punching past the
dead.

“
I’m finally here
,”
ran through my mind in that eternal second.

Then I was thrown off my steed. One of the
monsters jumped towards me as I passed. If I had been going any
slower he would have sacked me like a quarterback. He would have
missed the bike entirely if I had been going any faster. His diving
lunge sent a rotting arm into the spokes of my rear wheel. I heard
the tearing sound of my rocketing momentum rip the zombie’s upper
body apart. Consequences for the undead man were concealed by
darkness. I saw the ground floating beneath me as I hurtled through
the air. My body shifted. For a split second I knew my house was
approaching at an unsafe rate. Then I saw the midnight expanse of
the sky. Although it was probably the effects of shock or a blood
vessel bursting in my eye, I could have sworn that through the
rolling clouds I saw the glimmer of a few stars. Then the ground
met me.

I hit the pavement hard. Pain blacked me out
for a second. I opened my eyes, attempting to determine where I
was. Through the blur I knew I’d traveled over half the diameter of
my cul-de-sac. My neck was arched backward. Commands screamed from
my brain. “
GET THE FUCK UP!
YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE HERE
!” But nothing responded.
The words ran through my overactive brain and were ignored by my
crippled body.

Pain had become irrelevant. I tried and tried
to move, but could not. Then I heard them. Moans washed over from
the area I had just left. Clapping from wet, snapping jaws echoed
around the pavement like audience applause. The dead were coming
for me. In seconds I would be torn to shreds. My thoughts laughed
at the situation, “
at least I’m already
tenderized for the fuckers
…”

Fate would always win. The coming conclusion
was inevitable. In my broken state I couldn’t do anything to stop
it. All I could do was sit here and pray to the cruel God above. I
prayed to him that he might watch over my family. My prayers begged
that God also kept my loved ones from watching what was about to
happen to me.

“
Don’t let them
watch.
” I prayed. “
Please Lord, don’t let
them see me die. And don’t let me become one of them…
”

Movement entered my peripheral vision.
“
So this is how it ends…
” I don’t know if
my lips moved to say it but it was prominent in my mind. My eyelids
began to close. I imagined the faces of those I love. The last
thing I saw before closing my eyes was the ghoul excitedly hobbling
over to me.

Things went black. I could see Sarah’s
smiling face. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you,” she said
reassuringly. “Maddox is waiting to let you in.” Her voice filled
me with joy. Heaven was before me, but something was wrong.
“
Where is Calise?
” I said to her. If this
was Heaven and I was seeing my family, then where was my
daughter?

“I’VE GOT YOU BABY!” Sarah’s voice was
louder. It wasn’t happy at all, it sounded frantic. Something
wasn’t right.

A blinding burst of light followed a
thunderous boom. The endless clouds of Heaven’s expanse lit up.
“
This isn’t Heaven.
This
can’t be Heaven. I’m being sent down to Hell
.” Then there
was another boom. The fiery surge of light that came with it leaked
through my closed eyelids.

I continued my prayers. It had gone beyond
praying now. In my final moments it turned into a reflective
conversation with the holy being that judged me. “
You let me get all this way just to have me die HERE?
”
I felt anger for being so cheated. “
Go ahead and
send me to Hell. I killed Phil. I deserve to burn, but couldn’t you
let me see them again?
”

The sweet voice of my beloved entered the
dream again. “Just hang on! Please, baby, hang on!”

The time had come to say my final words to
the cruel savior above. This was to be my end.
“I’ll watch in Hell as this world resents you for abandoning
us all.
”

Another flash of light. The thunderous
explosion was louder. Its proximity startled me enough to crack
open my eyes. “I’ve got you!” Sarah’s voice said again, but the
heavenly dream of her voice competed with another sound. I heard
the hiss and moan of death. Between my beloved’s voice rang the
clamoring of a demon.

My teary eyes opened enough to focus toward
the entrance to the street. I saw him come for me. The limited
scope of my night vision portrayed death’s servant properly. Its
flailing arms and twitching jaw yearned for my flesh. He fell to
his knees. Momentum continued his lunge upon my left leg. Its grip
was cold, robotic even.

“
I hope I taste
terrible.
”

His rabid mouth locked onto my shin. I felt
pressure equal to that of slamming my leg in a car door. The hungry
teeth pressed into his bite like a mechanical vice. Sarah’s voice
entered this horrible dream again, “NO!!!”

Her angelic tone disappeared behind one of
anger. My defeated rationalizations picked at my acceptance of this
purgatorial matinee.

“
Angels don’t get
angry,
” I thought. “
Why isn’t Calise
here?
”

Thoughts questioned my willingness for this
to be the afterlife. Then I knew this wasn’t a dream at all.

I heard a final boom. It was so close that I
felt the heat radiate along my broken body. The demon’s head
disintegrated. His teeth were ripped off my leg by the power of
showering lead. My eyes darted over to the source of bursting fire.
Smoke billowed from the barrel of the shotgun held by my beautiful
wife. Then I felt her welcome hands.

My shattered body caved inside her loving
grip. Her gentle hands scooped under my arms and pulled me onto the
grass. In my head, I screamed for her to run and leave me.

“I’ve got you, baby… we’re almost there,” she
reassured me between labored breaths. Back towards the street I
heard frustrated sounding moans in pursuit.

Every inch of me was numb. I only knew we
were on the grass because of the frictionless drag beneath my back.
She shouted away from me, “Maddox! Get the gate!”

I heard the rusty creaking of the gate
hinges. Then I heard my boy shout back, “Come on, Mommy! They’re
coming!”

Sarah grumbled and strained. I don’t know how
she was able to drag me so far. I never ceased my inner pleas for
her to leave me. Whether in death, life, or un-death – I refused to
be the cause of my family’s destruction. We were feet away from the
gate. Sounds of the pursuing reapers clattered along the yard. I
could hear Maddox shouting for us to hurry.

I only saw darkness. Every sound became
drowned into a muffle. I felt my soul pulling from my mangled
body.

“Nathan!” Sarah shouted down at me. “Just
hang on! We’re almost…” Her words trailed off as the blackness
enveloped me. The soothing voice of my true love blended into the
noise of nothingness. I smiled, knowing I had finally rejoined my
reasons for surviving.

Stubbornness is defined by the human heart.

From five weeks after conception to the
undetermined last moments of our days, this muscle pumped life
within our chests. God crafted this marvel to relentlessly pump
life throughout our bodies an unfathomable number of times.

The heart had become an embodiment of
everything meaningful. Never mind the reality of it being just
another organ; people see it as a representation of love and soul.
When you fall in love, it is said you give the person your heart.
When that person breaks up with you, it is said that they have
broken your heart. On Valentine’s Day, kids don’t pass overpriced
cards with prints of the lungs or a brain. No - those sappy cards
have pictures of the almighty heart. Obviously we talk about it a
lot, because it has earned our praise.

Since it means so much to us humans, you’d
think we’d repay it by living our lives carefully. We should all
tiptoe around like a nitroglycerine-filled Faberge egg is housed
inside our chests. However, God also made us so that we may have
the ability to torment this biomechanical wonder.

It stays inside our chest in a never-ending
fight to keep us living. Meanwhile, we make every attempt to push
it to the limit. Humans exist to test our hearts using every
emotional, physical and nutritionally reckless option available.
Barring any unforeseen trauma, this muscle pumps away until it can
do so no longer.

As a child, your heart perfected the art of
racing. Every intentional startle by an older sibling… every eager
Christmas morning… every play date… every lesson learned… the
source of your pumping life grew along with you.

In the tumultuous teenage years your heart
prepared for adulthood. It drummed anxiously on your first date. It
thumped about your ribs while the driving instructor barked
instructions to parallel park. It pumped rapidly while you snuck
around doing things that would hopefully get expunged from your
record at eighteen. It eased when you sat thinking about how stupid
your actions were after being grounded for doing them. Your heart
was ready to go into the great yonder with you.

As an adult, this precious muscle hates you
for your continuous negligence and forced turmoil. It fluttered and
surged during the wonderful day of your wedding. It strained to
function after years of fast food bombardment. It palpitated while
you watched the birth of you children. It audibly pounded during
the job interview that could have led to better things. Throughout
it all, your heart continued to fight so that you could do the
same.

Now, imagine the almighty heart has become
the source of your undoing. It stubbornly works to pump precious
life throughout your veins. Blood passing the wound you’ve received
is treated no differently. The crimson fluid reaches that circular
bite mark. Some oozes out of the violated spot. What doesn’t seep
out continues on its arterial mission to share the virus.

That determined muscle in your chest keeps
performing its life-long task. Each second of pulse carries the
evil through you. It’s inevitable to wonder if this is some kind of
revenge for the heart. The newly nefarious organ continues working
despite your impending doom. Perhaps it does this somehow knowing
that when the virus takes you, its job will be over. Because when
the heart stops beating… there is a different, ghoulish force that
will propel you around this post-apocalyptic hell.