The Reaper Virus (16 page)

Our pace remained rightfully quickened up the
block. Lance paused when we reached the intersection of Floyd and
Linden. While he surveyed the safety level I desperately tried to
catch my breath. I’m sure it would be worse if my adrenaline hadn’t
become such a welcomed companion. Damn my being out of shape – I
wasn’t even running for my life and I still was winded!

He carefully eyed both east and west before
walking beyond our cover of parked cars. My cautious glances around
us were almost superfluous. After all, if Lance spotted danger
nearby then my guess was we would be either stationary or walking
much faster. That didn’t mean danger wasn’t still obvious. The
increasing light illuminated several motionless and some shambling
silhouettes in both directions of Floyd Avenue.

The road-turned-brick walkway was bordered by
cherry blossom trees for much of its length between Floyd Avenue
and Main Street. A courtyard filled the space between the walkway
and the sizable Student Commons building. Passing this area we were
almost completely exposed to the east. On the western side of the
building was the beginning of a classroom building network that
covered an area the size of around two square blocks in total. It
was comprised of four buildings that led into each other, joined by
outdoor walkways or second-story street-crossing connections. If
this outbreak happened with the full population present, we would
be walking through an inner circle of
hell
. Now it was vacant and eerie. It felt like a
ghost town.

An absence of sound left enough room for my
fucking imagination to eat away at me. We slowed our pace a bit
towards the end of the courtyard area. On both sides we were
flanked by trees, which were normally so beautiful. Now they were
bare with a winter gloom suitable for the death befalling this
city. I started to become acutely aware of a distant clatter to the
east then.

The moment took me back to a memory of
standing on the banks of the Swift Creek Reservoir, hearing the
marching band drum line practicing miles away at my high school.
Anywhere along the banks it was an unavoidable noise. Banging like
that through distance turned into a droning echo.

I shook with the realization that the only
drums sounding now were that of undead fists pounding to get at
trapped souls. Barely a block away from where we stood was Gladding
Residence Center, the dorm where a handful of students and a few
officers awaited rescue. By the ruckus echoing from the area it
sounded like they had drawn every infected in the area. That place
was a tomb, and I doubted rescue would ever arrive.

Once again we were put at an advantage at the
expense of others. If the dorm wasn’t such an appetizing target we
would be overrun. I couldn’t allow myself to feel the weight of the
lives, which were likely lost, just to our east. All that mattered
was survival.

My thoughts were interrupted by a much closer
racket. I looked over my shoulder and saw a housekeeper banging on
the glass from inside the second floor of the Student Commons. He
probably would have been visually pegged as a zombie, even if one
of his arms hadn’t been missing. A black stain ran the entire
length of his left side from the ragged stump. The handicapped
creature pounded furiously at the sight of two meals walking past
his window.

A smirk forced its way over me from the sight
of the gruesomely pathetic display. Lance saw it too and had the
same twisted joy on his face. The gimpy zombie started getting a
little more animated when we stopped to evaluate him. As the noise
went up a few decibels, the fear of others being alerted made us
move on.

Nervousness had become redundant by the time
we reached the crossing at Linden and Main streets. Before the
world went to hell, this crosswalk was one of the busiest in the
area. There was a stop light there simply for foot traffic and the
students didn’t believe in yielding to traffic, so they pretty much
walked through whenever they pleased.

It struck me that this was probably the only
stretch of road not clogged with cars. We were exposed -
completely. A step farther and we were in an open intersection, an
inviting buffet for every infected in sight. Our proximity to the
ever present drumming of dead flesh on hopeless walls brought my
hypertension to palpable levels.

Lance motioned for me to walk next to him,
rather than a few steps behind. I can only assume this was so that
we look like less of a target from anything looking at us up the
street. Main Street was pretty much a straight line for a few
miles. Any zombies within two or three blocks would likely see us
crossing if they happened to glance in our direction. He started a
physical countdown from three to one with his fingers to signal
when we should start across the street. Our entire trek through
this budding wasteland had felt like an eternity. My mind took the
short moment as an excuse to wander. How long had we been out here?
How long since I’d been home? Today had been such a flood of
emotions that my thoughts couldn’t seem to process the flow of
time.

The last gloved finger went into his fist and
we stepped off the curb almost in sync. We kept a moderate pace
while every impulse firing in my brain was screaming to run. About
five feet into the street I glanced to my left, past Lance, towards
the racket around the dorm, immediately regretting my
curiosity.

A putrid mass of infected had gathered,
thicker than the morning fog not even a block away. Individual
shapes were difficult to discern through the density and writhing
of the group. They had swarmed around the dorm, eager for the meal
barricaded within.

The only urge stronger than the one to stare
at this horror was the one propelling me out of this city.
Lingering in the street would mean certain death. With that many
infected in one spot it was likely we had already been spotted.

I focused on the path ahead of us. A few more
feet and we were over the curb, greatly relieved by the concealment
of a building in both directions. My quick look to the east while
crossing the street was the only time I looked. I’m sure we were
now being pursued – I didn’t need visual confirmation to know it.
Either way, our priority of escape hadn’t changed.

Linden Street continued southbound another
two blocks. The first block remained a bricked pedestrian walkway
up to its intersection of Cary Street. After Cary it accepted
vehicle traffic for a short block before ending at the Downtown
Expressway. The Expressway had been our goal this entire time; it
acted as a southern boundary for the University.

All the classroom buildings in this area were
linked by walkways. We could have traversed half the distance
indoors just by using these walkways. As easy as that may sound, we
had no idea what was lurking in those buildings. At least the
outdoor travel was quick and we could see what was coming.

After walking under the three-story walkway
connecting the buildings on this side of the street, I squinted at
the joyous sight beyond us. I was so excited to see the fence for
the Expressway in my distant view, I nearly missed Lance making a
sudden detour to the right. He caught my hesitation and muttered,
“More cover this way… I have a plan.”

Directly to our right was the entrance to a
courtyard that was closely bordered by a few large classroom
buildings. Lance was right, once we were in the courtyard the only
way to see us was to be looking out from a building or very close
by. This gave us a little breathing room from being seen by the
crowd we just passed or any random zombies that were in hiding.

The area was darker than others we had
traveled through. With the sun low on the horizon still and the mix
of fog and airborne remnants of devastation it would probably be
midday before visibility was better. Lance motioned towards a bench
surrounded by the dry winter’s grass. I knew our break would be
short, but my body was screaming for a reprieve from this day.

0837 hours:

“We can only sit for a second,” Lance whispered.
“We’re almost to the Cary Street field. The fence is high and solid
there. I figure we can take a real break inside and plan what’s
next. Do you think you’ll be able to scale the fence? I doubt we’ll
be given the luxury of using the gate.”

“I’ll make it over. The thought of a fence
between us and them is a nice one,” I said through exaggerated
breaths. “Did you see what was going on by GRC?”

His face was blanketed in sorrow. “Yeah I saw
them. I’m not sure the army could even get to everyone inside...”
He trailed off.

A police department is like a dysfunctional
family. All issues aside, nothing could change that we were all
part of that family.

“Do you think they saw us?” I asked him.

The fact that Lance was already standing and
tightening the strap on his pack spoke louder than his one word
answer. “Definitely.”

Our target was at the southwest corner of the
courtyard. Two classroom buildings converged there and another
walkway passed over the sidewalk. The breezeway was the narrowest
entrance to the area but it also was the gateway to the wide open
fridges of the university. The Cary Street field, Lance’s goal for
a safe break, was just across the street from the narrowed passage.
Hurriedly, we made our way across the grass towards the darkened
corner. Lance was a few steps in front of me.

I had begun to adjust the position of my
scabbard to my right when Lance stopped in his tracks. He held out
his left arm and I bumped into him. Sheer luck prevented me from
knocking us both over. I knew better than to voice any protest,
something was very wrong. I looked past Lance, beyond the slight
cover of a shrub, and saw our new obstacle. Two infected stood in
the narrow breezeway. If they had been facing us we would not have
had the liberty of standing nearby to plan. From behind, they
looked like normal people. I could only guess what the front view
held. The poor lighting in the passageway kept from seeing any
small details in their motion. However, the awkward angle they both
stood at gave them away as being undead. If anything, their normal
appearance was what made what we had to do so disturbing.

Lance stealthily removed his ASP from its
holster on his left side. The fact his sidearm remained holstered
indicated how he wanted this to go down. He gripped the metal
cylinder in a fist. We were too close for him to extend the baton.
Its distinctive clink would easily give us away at this
distance.

I pulled the Kukri from its sheath. My body
stance changed with its absence from my belt and I experienced a
vulnerability I had not felt all morning. I gripped the solid
handle, my confidence slightly restored with the sight of the thick
curved blade.

With the element of surprise still on our
side, there was no point in waiting. About ten feet ahead of us the
walkway split into stairs and a handicap ramp. A metal railing rose
from the split and trailed the ramp down, past the breezeway, until
the path became whole again. The ghouls stood just a few feet
beyond the dividing railing.

Lance pointed his free hand towards me, then
towards the reaper on the ramp to the left. He nodded quickly in an
act of self-recognition and motioned to the creature standing a
step down on the right. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to
attack a human form premeditatedly for the first time in my life. A
mental block took hold of my thoughts from the gravity of such an
action.

Again, I watched as a gloved hand rose to do
a silent countdown towards action. My heart was beating so hard I
felt like it would burst from my body. There must have been a
hundred drumming beats within my chest between Lance’s count of
three…two…

The countdown ceased. Our attention turned
completely around towards the corner of the courtyard, where we
first entered. A crowd of at least six infected had shambled their
way into our temporary sanctuary. Sounds of their pursuit hadn’t
reached us yet, but I knew we had few seconds before they would
alert the targets in front of us.

We exchanged a second’s glance before bolting
into action. Quick steps brought us to our victims in half a
second. I raised the Kukri above my head and propelled it downward
with all my might. The widened end of my blade struck the once
human figure before me in the back of the head. It connected at the
skull right below the ear line. My blurred vision and the poor
lighting spared me from full recognition of what I had done.

I felt like the steel became an extension of
my own arm. The sensation of connection between metal and flesh was
as curious as it was evil. It reminded me of slashing at a
partially frozen pumpkin. The blade undoubtedly cracked through the
skull, blending whatever remained inside, and passed through the
creature’s left. Needless to say, the deed was done.

In the fight to pass this undead obstacle, I
never completely saw what Lance had done. I assume the pop I heard
was that of his closed baton punching through the zombie’s head.
His target fell to the side as he passed.

Mine fell forward on its face. I caught a
glimpse of the new shape I had made out of this poor soul. The
Kukri did exactly what it was designed to do and passed clear
through the skull. I didn’t quite decapitate it, although the way
the head snapped forward reminded me of a Pez dispenser.

I leapt over my victim and ran from the shade
into the birthing light of the morning. We rounded the corner and
saw the fence guarding the Cary Street field. There were three
zombies scattered between us and the field. Our original pursuers
were probably nearing the end of the courtyard behind us.

Lance flicked his ASP baton to its proper
length. He headed towards the infected standing closest to the
fence. The other two were off to the side, closer to me. They were
not as close as the one by the fence, but knowing their capacity to
lunge I knew I would have to deal with at least one.