White Flag of the Dead (4 page)

Thinking I must have hit something in his clothes that stopped the bullet, I took careful aim this time at his chest and fired another round. The man staggered backwards a few steps, but managed to stay on his feet. I could see the holes in his shirt, and they were both centered on his heart. No blood came out, nothing. It was like the man was already dead, but how the hell could he be walking around? I heard another groan as the man came at me for a third time. I raised my aim and fired a shot that entered his right eye, exploding brains and dark matter out the back of his head. The man dropped instantly and was still. My brain spun for a moment. A noise snapped me out of my reverie, and I looked up in time to see the man I had initially hit with my car shuffling up to me. He moved slowly, and I could see his foot was broken as he dragged it along the ground. His leg bone clicked as it hit the ground in his advance. A rasping gargle came out of his ruined throat as he reached for me with one hand, the other hanging loosely at his side.

I didn’t waste time with any more body shots. I centered my sights on his face and fired once, the bullet smashing through his nasal cavity and erupting out the back of his head. The man’s head snapped impossibly far back, largely due to the fact that he was missing half his throat. Overbalanced, the man fell straight back like a tree falling and smacked onto the road.

I took a step back, holstered my gun and looked around me. Two men were down, killed by my gun. But were they killed by me? Or were they already dead? Ordinarily that would be a crazy thought, but I had just seen for myself a man rise after being hit by a car and having his throat torn open. Did the virus do this? Were all those people who were reported as “comatose” actually dead, and coming back to life? Way too many questions and this was not the place to think about it. I could see other people starting to come from houses and around buildings, attracted to the noise I made. By the way they were walking and the groans I was starting to hear, no one living came to investigate, which I think scared me worse than anything else. Was this whole area just dead? I needed to get out of here and get home. I turned back to the car just in time to see a teenager clawing at the back window, trying to get in at Jacob. Jacob was screaming at the noise I had made, and his screams must have attracted this nightmare. The teen was grayish in color, and his face was ripped up. One of his cheeks was torn open, giving him a horrific leer. That face was pressed against the back window, and I could see the teeth working, wanting to get in and tear at Jake’s tender skin.

Something in me snapped. I ran over behind the teen, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and the belt that held up his sagging pants. I screamed “NO!” as I bodily lifted teen and slammed him down head first into the pavement. His head cracked and dark fluid began leaking out. I didn’t wait to see if he was dead. I drew my gun again and fired eight shots rapidly into his head, splattering brains and bone and everything else all over the road. Bullets skipped off as they ricocheted off the road. The slide on my gun locked open, indicating an empty gun, and still I pulled on the trigger. I was breathing heavily, and couldn’t see very well. I heard noises around me, but nothing registered. I didn’t want this thing dead, I wanted it destroyed.

Jacob’s crying penetrated my fog, and I managed to look around. At least ten more people were coming at me, and I did not have any more rounds. Time to go. I ran to the driver’s side of the car, jumped in and started the engine just as another one came at my door. It was a housewife in a robe, and the robe was open to reveal a ripped-open stomach cavity. What horrified me was her organs were missing. I could see her backbone as her bloodied hands pounded on my window. That was a close-up I didn’t need.

I started the engine and pulled away, bouncing another woman off my fender and swerving to avoid three more people. When I cleared the area, I looked back and saw a mob of about twenty slowly following my car. To my horror, I saw a young woman run out of her house, waving her hands and trying to get my attention. She didn’t notice how close the mob was. They reached her quickly and she was dragged back screaming as fetid mouths began to tear chunks of flesh from her arms. She was swallowed up and taken down by the crowd, and I could see just a single foot drumming the ground for a second, then she was still. It was like watching a pack of hyenas kill an animal. I shook my head and gunned the engine, trying to get out as fast as I could. If I had gone back, I would be dead and so would Jake.
Please forgive me
, I prayed, wondering what kind of God I was praying to, and wondering if prayer would ever matter again.

I drove home without incident, paying very careful attention to the road and side streets. There were several cars on the road that looked like they had been abandoned, at least I could not see anyone in the cars. I moved through my neighborhood without incident, although I swear I could see something moving in the backyard of the guy who lived at the end of the block. I pulled into my garage and quickly closed the door. I pulled a now-sleeping Jacob from his car seat and moved him quickly inside. I carried him upstairs and laid him in his crib, then went downstairs to close the blinds and drapes on the ground floor. I didn’t want to announce my presence to anything unfriendly, not until I had taken some precautions. As I closed my front drapes, I noticed a dark figure moving down the street towards my house. My heart skipped as I thought,
He knows someone’s here
. I ran to my ammo store and reloaded the empty magazine in my SIG. I went to the pantry and retrieved the .22, checking the magazine and making sure a round was in the chamber. I went back to the window and surreptitiously watched the dark figure slowly become more recognizable. It was a man, roughly my age, limping slowly down the middle of the street. His mouth hung open and his hands were swinging at his sides. He walked with an almost hypnotic gait, edging ever closer to my house.

Suddenly, Jake started crying. I ran to his room and picked him up, trying to get him to go back to sleep. His cries were unusually loud, and as I peeked out the window I saw the man move closer and closer to the house.

“Please, baby, please be quiet.” I whispered as I bounced Jake gently. “Sleepy time, daddy’s here.” I wondered if he had a nightmare about that horrible face trying to get through the back window of the car.

I looked out again and the man was closer, his head cocked to the side as if he was locking in on my home. Christ, if he started pounding on the doors he was going to attract more of them.

“Jakey, sleep honey, sleep.” I tried to sound as calm as possible, but an edge was getting into my voice.
We’re so dead
. I thought.

Jake finally quieted down to subdued whimpering and I snuck a look outside. As the dead man came within ten yards of the front of my house, out of the east came a kid on a bike, pedaling like the very demons of hell were on his tail. He swerved away from the corpse on the street and headed west, dodging an outstretched hand and groaning mouth. The corpse turned to follow the biker, completely losing interest in my house. I nearly fell over in relief.

That was interesting. They follow what they want until distracted, then they follow that. Might be useful to remember. I stayed at the window, looking out and managed to see what the kid on the bike was running from. A crowd of about twenty of those things came shambling down the street, in various states of decay and disrepair. Several had large amounts of blood down the front of their clothing, others were missing fingers and eyes and pieces of flesh. One particularly gruesome specimen had his lower jaw ripped off, and his tongue lolled around in the air under his face. Where were they all coming from? Why wasn’t the news reporting this? I had to resist the urge to run out and hose down the mob. I knew I would be overwhelmed and killed, and what would happen to Jake then? No, caution was better. Besides, I needed to think about reinforcing my windows.

Where was I going to find enough wood to build a barrier? I certainly was not going back to the home improvement store, and I sure wasn’t going to leave Jacob. What to do? I pondered this as I looked out my back window at the bike path that ran along the power line easement behind my house. The condominiums across the way looked peaceful enough, but part of me wondered what nightmares awaited in the halls. I hoped I would never have to find out. For a moment I considered my fence as a source of lumber, but dismissed that as foolish. I might need that seven-foot barrier if for nothing more than to be able to move unseen in my yard. I was never so glad that I insisted on reinforced support posts than I was right now.

My eyes fell on my porch, and all of a sudden I had a flash of inspiration. My porch was made of two by sixes of various lengths. All the wood I needed was right there. I just had to pull it up and bring it in. I ran downstairs and grabbed my drill, pausing to put the extra battery in the charger. Thankfully, I had made the deck with screws, so I just needed to back out the screws and pull the boards up. I figured I had only an hour before Jake woke up, so I needed to move quickly.

I brought my .22 outside with me and slung it across my back. I needed to move all the stuff off the deck first, and do it quietly, since I wasn’t ready to withstand a siege. I moved the chairs to the fence, giving myself firing positions if I needed them. The back of my property dropped off four feet. The table I moved to the fence door, and jammed it into the ground. The door opened outward, and I needed to be able to block it if got pulled open. I hoped it never came to that, but then the dead seemed to be walking, so here we are.

As I went back to my porch to take off some boards, I was struck by how quiet it was. My house was in the landing pattern of the nearby airport, so there was usually a plane or three overhead. I listened to the wind and could faintly hear distant sounds: intermittent pops that I figured was gunfire, a groan or two, and the screeching of tires. I hoped all the noise would distract any infected from whatever noise I made.

The first few boards came off easily with no serious sound. I removed about three feet of boards and brought them into the house. The hard part was going to be cutting them, but I had hand saws for that. As I placed the boards in the house, I noticed the curtains move on my neighbor’s house. As I straightened up, the curtain was pulled aside and I saw my neighbor’s daughter Erica in the window. She waved at me and I waved back, happy to see another person in this crazy world. All of a sudden she was jerked back and the curtain was shoved forward. I hoped she was okay. I didn’t hear any screams, and so I figured it was just her parents trying not to attract attention to their house. They were just as scared as I was.

I went inside and heard some happy baby noises coming from upstairs. After I put the rifle back, I went up and found Jacob sitting up in his crib, playing with his blanket. He smiled a huge smile when he saw me, apparently no worse the wear for the experience we had over the afternoon. I picked him up and changed him, able for a brief second to forget the world and the crisis we seemed to be in. I took him downstairs to the basement, transferring his pack ‘n play. I went back upstairs and measured the windows, figuring on using the deck screws to fasten the boards to the window frames. I went back down and began cutting boards. For whatever reason, Jake thought this was fascinating, and smiled and laughed the whole time I was cutting boards.

I took him back upstairs, and brought up the boards I had cut. I figured only to cover the front windows at this time, since they were the weakest point of entry, and there were only two of them. The good news was there was a hedge in front of the windows, and my house was raised off the ground by several inches, so direct access was difficult. It could be done, but not easily. I decided to cover up the windows but leave the top six inches open to let in light and give me a firing opening. If I needed to close the whole thing, I could just drop the drapes.

I was just attaching the last board when the phone rang. It was Ellie.

“John?”

“Hey, Babe!” I said, trying to sound cheerful, in spite of all that had happened today.

“How are you doing?” She sounded like here was something seriously wrong.

“I’m fine.” I said, moving over to where Jacob was.

“Have you been watching the news?” Ellie asked.

“Actually I’ve been a little busy.” I understated things, since I didn’t want her to worry.

Ellie sounded exhausted. “Just to let you know, whatever you hear on the news about this crisis being localized and that the government is handling things, is a flat out lie.”

I actually wasn’t so shocked by this, giving what I had been through. “What are you talking about?”

Ellie sighed and told me. “We have been working non-stop on infected people. They don’t go into comas, they die. They die and then they come back. The morgue is a nightmare, full of walking dead and they are trying to get out. Several patients who didn’t get transferred in time came back and attacked staff members. John, I watched my shift boss get eaten by two patients. Eaten!” Ellie sounded more panicked. “Jesus, God, what the hell?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I was quiet for a minute. I was having a hard enough time wrapping my head around the events of the day to really hear what Ellie was telling me. Ellie seemed to shake herself and asked me “Did you do what I asked, earlier?”

I told her, yes, and I went into detail about my preparations, about where I had guns and ammo, and the boarding of the windows.

“They’re that far south, are they?” Ellie asked.

“What do you mean?”

Ellie sighed again. “We had a Chicago cop in here and he said the city was complete anarchy. Thousands of those things were in the streets, attacking anyone they saw, and transferring the virus. If they aren’t killed, eventually they become one of them. Sometimes it’s fast, sometimes it’s slow, and it all depends on the individual. The cop said they can only be killed by destroying the brain.”