Midnight Outbreak (3 page)

Chapter Four

Two Weeks Earlier

At Miguel’s urging, Lexi took a break from tending to her father to get her daily dose of food. Her thoughts spun wildly out of control, too fast to catch and hold on to. After Samuel’s confession, Miguel went to work, his fingers flying over the keyboard trying to find some article, some story about a vampire feeding off a dead human before. For the first two hours, he had no luck and he cursed in Spanish.

It seemed like after confessing, Samuel’s rate of decay began to intensify. Almost instantly, he shrank, and Lexi was struck with horror. He writhed and moaned in pain.

She tried to deflect his attention, get his mind off the pain that was raging inside. She brought up stories from years ago.

“Remember Mother would get so mad at you for bringing in the snow on your boots? She would swat you with that old dingy towel of hers and say, ‘Samuel, you have no sense in that handsome head of yours.’ Remember?” Lexi half-laughed, half-croaked as she knelt by her father, her hands encircling his.

“Or that time Andrew stole that apple from the neighbors’ house? And they were so mad. But that was our Drew, always the most mischievous thing in the neighborhood. I wonder how he turned out. He was on his way to be quite a handsome man that was for sure.”

This was doing no good. The memories hurt her dead heart. Her father shut his eyes and smiled, though, so she kept going.

“Our first train ride was quite the memory, huh? Me, petrified of everything, clinging to Mother’s dress so tightly my hands ached for days. But then once it started, oh how I was mesmerized. So enamored with the clinking and clanking. It was such a splendid day. One that I will always hold dear to me no matter how old I am.”

Miguel came in at one point and watched quietly. He slumped against the doorframe and crossed his arms, adopting a smirk that was a mixture of sadness and affection. He’d always liked hearing the old stories; the early 1900s were interesting years to him. There was a longing in Lexi’s spirit, for Miguel to come and hold her. To comfort her and tell her everything would be alright.

Their relationship was comfortable. When she had found him, he was a maniac, so full of self-loathing that was so intense he was reckless in everything he did. He had been turned at the age of nineteen in 1980, but didn’t come to Louisiana until the late 80s. He was born and bred in Brazil, having learned English only after he was turned. That’s what happened when you had lots of time on your hands: You learn new things; you study something that you never had a chance to while you were human.

Lexi was drawn to his exotic look at first. She knew it was shallow, but her attraction to how he looked was so strong. He was a beautiful man. Every so often they took a break from each other, not to fuck other people, although she had once or twice, but to have solace, time alone. Nobody ever realized just how much vampires preferred their alone time. And if she was truthful, his wild nature scared her. She could not imagine being that out of control. She preferred self-control, knowing exactly what was happening and when. That’s just how she operated.

Thankfully Miguel calmed down after the first separation. But it had never truly gone away; it was always somewhere under the surface, ready to be let free. Only Lexi seemed to tame that part of him. But only most of the time, never always.

She realized she was staring at him and gave a smile.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and squeezed her father’s hand before standing.

“Come sit down,
mami
.”

She did, a fear settling deep within her bones. “You found something.” It wasn’t a question, she knew.

“I did.” He paused, irritating Lexi.

“Just tell me, Miguel!” Her tone was sharp as a tack; Miguel physically winced, as if he had been slapped.

“I found one case. A long time ago. Before you were even born. Of course the documentation was just thrown around as lore, something to scare the humans. Zombie stories have been around for quite a while.

“A female vamp, homeless and alone, had fed off a dead carcass. And that dead rose again, but not as a human. As a walking corpse. Something mutated in the blood from the vampire’s venom and it caused the dead to walk.” Miguel’s fingers were tapping nervously on his knee.

“The woman vamp was found in her final death, everything about her rotted away. Vampires can only survive on live blood, warm from a beating heart. Now if the person dies because a vamp drained them, that’s different. But the blood of the dead is a big no-no. It can and will kill us, and it will also cause the dead to rise.”

“What happened to the dead that had risen?” she asked.

“It says he was killed by the vamp’s father when he found out what she had done. He found him wandering the streets and killed it. But there were witnesses, I’d imagine, and that’s how the story was written down.”

Lexi felt like the world dropped out from her feet. She stood abruptly.

“What did he do, Miguel? What did he do?” she exclaimed.

Chapter Five

That day at work was no better than the previous. Tony wasn’t there again, and neither was Choy. The men stood around, drinking their coffee from their worn thermoses. They had covered a lot of ground yesterday after the Choy incident. But they had so much more to go; the worn highway loomed past them for miles. Josh, without much thought, took the reins, and gave each man their duties and started working. He concentrated on his work, digging the old asphalt up.

No matter how hard he concentrated however, his thoughts kept returning to Myra. She was sick, but too independent to lean on him. That’s how she was when she was sick. She would take naps, but when she was up, she tucked Kleenex in her pocket and went to work on whatever chores needed to be done. He had heard stories from other men about their old ladies being utterly useless when they were ill, and he felt a degree of pride bloom in his chest that he didn’t have to worry about that.

On their break, while he was chugging his water, he told Will about what happened. Will looked tired again today. Josh asked if he was feeling okay, and Will just replied that he was tired; the nights were too hot to sleep comfortably.

“So anyway, now Myra is sick with whatever Claire the neighbor had, I guess. I don’t know. I wish she wasn’t so keen on helping everybody at all times. You can’t help them all.”

Will became quiet; his whole body changed as if he had a rod stuck up his ass.

“No,” he said quietly. “No I guess you can’t.”

Josh, oblivious of Will’s change, changed the subject, bringing up a movie that was coming out that Myra wanted to go see. Will commented little, saying a ‘yeah’ or ‘I hear ya’ here and there. His whole demeanor had changed, unbeknownst to Josh.

Instead, he just kept thinking about Myra. During lunch he himself grew quiet after repeatedly texting her and not getting one reply the entire half hour of break. Right before he went back to work, he called. It rang and rang and went to voicemail.

He wasn’t a praying man, but he pleaded silently that everything would be okay, because deep down he had a fear that it wasn’t.

***

They had finished work right before the sun went down. Sweat soaked his shirt and undershirt. It had been a miserable day. And to top it all off, he hadn’t received word at all from Myra. He had made himself frantic with worry and he almost left.

Now he drove at least twenty above the speed limit, anxious to get home.

Luck would have it that he wasn’t stopped. The lights were off at his house and a sense of foreboding invaded every molecule of his body. Myra usually had at least the living room lights on; she was always complaining that being in the dark with a lit up TV gave her headaches. But now, his house looked like a black tomb.

Should’ve stayed home with her
, he scolded himself.

He opened the door, the creak intensified in the silence of the house. He went about unloading his pockets on the counter, turning the lamps on.

Myra didn’t call out, didn’t come in to welcome him home. It was hot and stuffy in the house and Josh suddenly felt like he was suffocating. He cranked the ac unit on, dismayed that it was off.

“Myra?” he called out tentatively. The hallway was dark, no light under their bedroom door.

“Myra? Come on and get up. Sleep’s good, but not the whole day.” He put an ear to the door, listening for the sound of TV, or music. But there was nothing.

“Myra—”

He was cut off by a guttural growl. His body tensed. Where did that sound come from? Suddenly, the door ripped open, ripped straight off its hinges and he jumped back.

Myra was standing there, but it wasn’t her. Not quite. She seemed to glow; her skin was so pale in the darkness of the bedroom.

“What the fuck!”

She was turning her head slowly, cocking it to the side as if she was a curious dog. She was wearing the same nightgown as last night.

“Myra?” And then, “Baby? Baby, what’s wrong with you?”

Her breathing was ragged, and then she spoke. “You ask too many
fuckin’
questions.”

Then she attacked. She was on Josh faster than lightning. He let out a yelp and then a scream as she dug her nails into his chest, cutting through the fabric of his work shirt and into his flesh.

With pure adrenaline pumping through him from the fright, he grabbed her waist and flung her off of him, back into the bedroom.

Her scream that came stopped his blood cold. It was an angry, psychotic cry. She charged again.

He was prepared this time, and dodged her. She hit the door on the opposite wall with a hard thud. He took that opportunity to run down the dark hallway into the living room. He grabbed the baseball bat that sat next to the front door. He didn’t know if he could really use it with all his force on his wife.

But this wasn’t his wife. This was an animal.

He heard her running down the hall, growling all the while.

He was going to die. His wife was going to kill him.

And then the front door swung wide open, banging against the wall.

Chapter Six

Usually Lexi and Miguel’s nights included going out. They would take strolls across the Red River Park, or go to late night showings of movies. They weren’t completely different from the humans. Other nights Lexi and Miguel would host their friends, Sienna and Lukas. Sienna had been Lexi’s best friend for years. They had met through Samuel, who needed an assistant for his business back in the 70s.

Sienna, with her brown pixie-styled hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles that were spread over her delicate face, was a beauty. It was known, although not stated out loud, that Samuel had hired her in hopes of keeping her as a companion. But she proved to be too much of a smart ass, too independent for Samuel. He kept her on as his assistant because she was the greatest at what she did. And that was keeping Samuel’s bar running.

Thankfully, Lukas, Sienna’s partner, and Miguel got along famously, which left the girls to have their own gossip time when together. Lukas was tall, with a curly mane of blond hair. He was nearly as old as Lexi and Samuel, having been turned in the 1900s. His body was strong from his years of working on the family farm as a human. Where Sienna was loud and blunt, he was quiet and reserved, a great listener. They fit together perfectly, like yin and yang.

The night after Samuel’s confession, Sienna and Lukas had come over. Lexi knew her father was dying the final death and she needed her friends and her lover by her side more than ever.

The transformation Samuel took was awful. Nothing is ever pleasant when death is involved. He was lucid at times and dazed during others. They turned the news on, because the silence was deafening to Lexi.

There was a report about a number of cases of a mystery illness. The reporter spoke briefly about it, the diagnosis not clear, but the symptoms were common.

“Maybe it’s a super flu,” Sienna stated. But Miguel’s face had turned pensive. His bushy black eyebrows turned down and his bottom lip was in between his teeth. Lexi knew that look. He was connecting the dots.

“Or maybe it’s the effect of the man Samuel fed on,” he whispered, his voice rough.

Lexi’s eyes grew. “No. No, that doesn’t seem right.” But Miguel didn’t speak. “What else did you find about zombies?”

“That the turnaround is different for everyone. Just like with vamps. It could take a day or two, or it could take a week. But it will spread fast. These types of news stories are going to take over.”

Sienna stood from her seat on the couch. “Then we can just kill them, right?”

“Sure Sienna, we’ll just turn into a bunch of zombie killers and get rid of them.” Miguel retorted, his sarcastic tone causing Lexi to frown.

“Oh shove it, Miguel. Now is not the time to be a wise-ass with me, honey.”

Before he could reply, Samuel gasped loudly. Everyone’s head jerked in his direction and Lexi was at his side in a flash.

“Father?”

“It’s almost time,” he croaked. His skin was now a dark grayish color, his bones jutting out in all directions. “Whatever I did… I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” He coughed, a blackish liquid spilling out of his mouth. Tears flowed from Lexi’s eyes as she took a napkin and wiped it away.

“Shh, don’t worry.”

“I’ve killed us all. With the dead walking, there will be no one to feed off of,” he said, his voice full of sorrow. His words frightened her but she couldn’t concentrate on that right now.

“Father, I love you. I love you so much. I will not be whole without you by my side,” she whispered. She felt a hand on her shoulder but didn’t turn to look. She could feel Miguel and Sienna, and even Lukas behind her.

“Samuel, it’s been an honor to work with you. I love you as well,” Sienna said softly.

“Miguel, take care of my daughter. Sienna, take care of my bar; it is now yours. Lukas, watch over them all.” Samuel locked eyes with Lexi. “I love you, my darling Alexis. I am sorry for turning you, but not sorry all the same. You were my life, my dear daughter.”

And with that, Samuel closed his eyes and went still. And as with any vampire’s final death, his body evaporated, leaving only a pile of ash.

Lexi’s sob rang through the apartment. She felt a white-hot rage inside her, burning every part of her cold, dead body. She clutched at the ashes, grabbed them tightly in her small fists.

Sienna’s and Miguel’s arms were wrapped around her tightly as her body collapsed into itself with her cries. Her father was gone. Truly gone. And he had started something so terrifying that it would change the world as she knew it.

***

Hours later, she sat comatose on the recliner. The other three made themselves busy, sweeping up the ashes and putting them in a vase, cleaning the couch and then deciding to get rid of it altogether.

All this went on and she was oblivious. She blankly stared at the end table lamp, the one they bought in Brazil. It had been a beautiful trip; it was her first time abroad with Samuel.

As she remembered stories of her human life, she went back to the day that she was turned. It had been a cold, brittle night. Her father had taken ill the day before after coming back late from his bread store. Her mother had hovered over him all day, keeping the children at bay because back then sickness could take whole families in a month’s time.

That night her father had gotten out of bed. She had heard the noises and crept into their big kitchen, the biggest room of their house. He was standing by the window, too still and Lexi remembered the fear that had chilled her heart.

“Father?” she had said.

He turned slowly, his skin almost translucent against the dark robe he wore. She gasped at his color. He looked dead.

“My dear Alexis,” he had whispered.

“Father, let’s get you to bed. You need not stand by the window and get chilled.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me now. It is me. I am the cold.” His head cocked to the side. Lexi’s head told her to run, to go get her mother. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

“I am sorry to do this, Alexis. For I loved you very much in life.”

“Father, you aren’t making sense. Come now; let me take you to your room.”

Then he charged. Faster than any animal, he was at her side, his cold arms wrapped around her. Her heart had frozen at that moment. She knew she was going to die. That whatever father had, it had made him absolutely insane. It was one of those mental sicknesses and Lexi recited the Lord’s Prayer as her father’s face loomed inches from hers.

“This will hurt. I’m sorry,” he growled, his dark eyes a mix of guilt and eagerness. He opened his mouth and right in front of her, his canine teeth grew. Those fangs, they symbolized the evil that she had heard stories about in childhood. The evil that this world concealed.

As he bit into her neck, and as the pain ricocheted through every nerve, her final thought as a human was that she was going to turn into the evil she once feared.