The Reaper Virus (35 page)

A little ways up the street and the buildings
thinned out a bit. I coasted on a moderate downhill past a YMCA and
an elementary school. Both of those places would be suitable for
hiding out so I expected there to be more zombies. Much to my
surprise the large structures had few trespassers roaming their
grounds, which was good to see.

At least they couldn’t be
everywhere
at once. The thinning of attackers seemed
like a good enough excuse for grabbing a drink. I reached back to
my secured pack and after a moment of rifling I found a bottle of
water. I kept every sip in my mouth as long as possible. Each one
felt so wonderfully refreshing I didn’t want to swallow. The road
was much quieter than previous stretches, so I welcomed the breaks
from noise, thirst and of course, infected obstacles. I had
consumed half of the bottle before I knew it was time to save the
rest. But one last sip couldn’t hurt. I tipped my head back for a
final indulgence.

A loud knock rang out from my left. It
startled me enough to send the water down the wrong pipe and the
bottle out of my grip. “
Sh..i.t
!” I cursed
through choking words. The bottle and its precious clean water
tumbled to the pavement. It bounced inward and was crushed beneath
the Cannondale’s rear tire. I didn’t have time to mourn the loss,
because I heard three more loud knocks.

Fearing attack, I glared, searching for the
source. Memories of running through the sniper’s killing field on
Cherry Street returned. I was passing the outer fields of the
school. The only nearby building was an old fire station. My
attention was drawn to something moving in a second floor window.
There was a human shape waving around. The figure was dressed in a
navy tee shirt and long pants, just the way a fireman would be
while not suited up. I was about to dismiss it as another reaper
when I realized something wasn’t right about his movement. The
creature moved too normal to be a creature at all. I squinted and
tried to force some clarity in my sight. The person had stopped,
but still held up a hand. A moment later I realized what I was
seeing – the man was giving me a “thumbs up.”

“W-what the hell?” I stuttered. The fireman
noticed that he had gained my attention and followed his thumbs up
with a more casual wave. All I could think to do was wave back. He
showed his thumb once more so I did the same. The entire thing was
so odd I actually smiled. Then he held up a finger like he wanted
me to wait. He ducked out of view and I passed over the median into
the other lane. I wanted to go closer, but the few infected that
wandered the school fields had noticed me.

I watched the roamers hobble excitedly
towards me. Their current speed would have them on me in a few
minutes. I looked back at the fireman and saw he’d placed some kind
of poster against the glass. My head cocked to the side and I tried
to figure out what this survivor was trying to tell me. The poster
was a shape like a head and shoulders. Then it hit me… it was an
outline of an upper body. Across the head was painted a big red
“X”. The poster dropped and the firefighter reappeared. He pointed
at his head and gave me another thumbs up. The man was trying to
make sure I knew how to fight the undead! I waved and nodded my
head eagerly in response. My window from attack had closed and four
ghouls were coming up on me. I pedaled away watching the friend I
didn’t even know waving in the distance.

Knowing there was another kind civil servant
out there gave me a much needed boost in morale. I’d also need to
translate that boost into speed, because the largest hill yet was
before me. I pedaled fast to try and build up some speed I’d need
to topple this mound of road.

1541 hours:

I was completely out of breath not even halfway up
the hill. The road plateaued for a few car lengths then continued
its incline. This torture ended at the top with a big intersection
and then a gloriously long downhill. Thinking about flying down the
other side had me salivating like a grilled cheese was waiting at
the bottom on a platter.

There was another shopping center on each
side of the coming intersection. Fortunately for me they both were
farther offset from the road. I was confident that I should be able
to speed through the area without any problems. Home is was so
close I was getting giddy. A thought popped into my mind then… the
walkie! I had to be in range by that point. The abrupt change in
thinking caused me to squeeze the brakes. The tires skidded a few
feet with the rear one coming inches off the ground. Luck alone
kept me from getting thrown off.

I hopped off and side-wheeled the bike
towards a truck sitting on the shoulder. A few feet from it lay a
corpse, which I desperately hoped was actually dead. I propped the
Cannondale against the truck’s side. My eagerness had made me
reckless. The bike wasn’t stable and it shifted against the side of
the vehicle. It made a sound equivalent to me just punching the
damn thing. The face down corpse jerked her body into motion.

“I don’t have time for this shit!” I yelled
at the woman and her widening black eyes. She started to push
herself up. Black tar drooled from the creature’s mouth as she
attempted to stand. Abandoning my efforts to retrieve the two-way
radio, I found where the crowbar poked out of my pack. It slid out
of the horizontal resting place and into my angry grip. I ran to
the prone, drooling beast as she angled her head to see me coming.
Oily gore oozed from her snapping jaws and both soulless eyes went
wide.

Not only was I so close to home, but for the
first time in days I was about to talk to Sarah. Rage dominated my
motive. Anger seethed from the battered creature I had become. I
swung the mini-crowbar like a golf club. The ‘L’ shaped curve
became the face of my club and this former human’s head became the
golf ball. She eagerly moved towards my flesh as the hook closed
upon her head. It punched into her skull with the limited
resistance of a stick poked into mud. The steel pierced right about
at her ear, stopping at the perpendicular curve.

I wasn’t sure what I had expected to happen
then. Who’s to say what was normal when you were impaling someone’s
skull with a tool bought at Home Depot? My ire-induced swing took
hold of the woman’s skull and kept going. Before I could reconsider
the severity of the attack I watched in horror as her neck angled
and snapped altogether. The firm grip I had held released half a
second later when I realized what I’d done. Like a bowling pin
tossed into the air my crowbar circled at an irregular arc. It
didn’t get far thanks to the head that had been attached to one
side, but dirty hair trailed behind until it cracked against the
road’s shoulder. The woman’s decapitated body fell motionless while
spilling gelatinous muck from its neck. Normally I’d be choking
through fits of vomiting for committing such a monstrous act.
Instead, I left the crowbar where it fell and ran back to the
propped up bike.

That time I was able to find the walkie
talkie quickly. I held my breath and hoped it would still turn on.
It had been in my pack since this all began, but that didn’t mean
much. The world had tossed me and the survival pack around so much
it would make sense for the radio to be as broken as I was.
Butterflies bombarded my gut while I steadied a shaky hand around
the knob controlling both power and volume. I could have cried when
it beeped and showed a red ‘on’ light. After ensuring it was on
Channel Four, the same channel I put the radio at home on, I
pressed the button and lifted it to my face. The red light
indicated it was transmitting, but my words wouldn’t come. I found
the last bottle of water and guzzled some. Again I went to press
the button. This time it greeted me with an obnoxious “BEEP”
signifying someone else beat me to the punch.

“
Hello?
”

My heart fluttered with disbelief from
hearing the voice of my beloved wife.

“Sarah!” I tried to control my voice. The
exercise in executioner-ism had drawn some attention. Two zombies
rose from hidden spots in the opposite travel lane. “Baby, it’s
me
.”

“Oh my God!” Her heavenly voice radiated from
the tiny radio. I should have covered it or made some attempt at
stealth but couldn’t have cared less. “Nathan, I was so worried! We
thought you were…” Her tears cut her words short.

Water streamed from my eyes. The new pair of
attackers had begun to clear the grassy median and was getting
closer. “I thought I was too, but I’m not far away and I’m coming
home. Are you and the kids alright?”

She choked out her response. “We’re fine.
Those things have been all around the neighborhood. A couple of
times they came up to the house. Maddox helped me move a bunch of
things into the attic and we’ve been spending most of the days up
there. I know you told me to only wait but so long for you then go
to your parents’ house, but I couldn’t…” I knew she was getting
upset and let go of the button. Every word was like listening to
music. It filled me with such a drive to be home I probably could
have flapped my arms and flew. While I was listening to the walkie
the undead duo cleared the grass and stepped onto the pavement.
Only two traffic lanes now separated them from me.

“Baby, listen…” I choked up my tears and
conveyed the confidence I now fully believed in. “I’ll be there
soon. When I’m at the top of the street I’ll radio ahead that I’m
close. Watch for me on a black mountain bike. I’ll come to the gate
for the fence in the back, since I don’t know if they will be
following me, make sure either you or Maddox is there to open and
close the gate quickly.” The first zombie was almost within lunging
distance. It let out a moan that made me take my finger off the
button to transmit.

“O…k…. Sweetie, are you alright?” Sarah had
probably heard the moan. She didn’t know where I was or what I’d
been through. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through
her mind after hearing a zombie interject into our
conversation.

I switched hands and thought about going for
the Taurus. The anger I felt from being interrupted made me realize
that a bullet was too good for these two. My gloved palm found its
home on the Kukri. With my left hand I pressed the button on the
radio again. “I’m fine, baby.” The reaper moved to lunge. “Just
watch for me. I love you.” I placed the walkie on the Cannondale’s
seat. Any response from Sarah was inaudible over the commotion that
ensued.

The blows I unleashed on the two creatures
were not calculated in their lethality. I was so enraged by the
continued interruptions these demons kept causing. I lashed out,
delivering non-lethal blows. The attack lacked any of the
intentional hits I’d become well versed in. By the time I was done
with the two they littered the street in pieces. While the first
ghoul was killed by my wild thrashing, the second was completely
incapacitated. Its jaw snapped wildly while the remaining eye
glared at me with hunger. I spared my gore covered blade and
stomped its skull like an aluminum can.

After pulling my boot heel from the undead
man’s skull I went back to the bike. I used the rest of the soiled
water to clean off the blade then wiped it off on the pants of the
decapitated woman. The Kukri was returned to its scabbard and the
radio got clipped next to my pistol. My heart drummed excitedly
beneath my battered ribs. Every injured inch of me was ready to
push on and end this terrible day.

* * *

1558 hours:

I winced while hopping back atop my ride. You
never realize how bad it hurts to sit on a bike seat until you get
off and then back on again. I allowed my bottom to hover over the
unforgiving seat and pumped my legs to top the hill.

To my right was a turn lane into the
intersection, which was most accessible from the road. If either of
the two shopping centers were to be of concern it was this one. I
looked down into the offset parking lot and its bordering shops
expecting to see undead activity. Much to my delight there was
none. I scanned all the way from the Community College building at
the corner to the far side at the little Italian restaurant. There
were a few cars and some overturned trash cans, but that was it. It
was a relief to be surprised by a lack of zombies. Unfortunately, I
knew this had to be vacated for a reason. That reason became all to
clear when I crested high enough to see the traffic light.

Silhouettes of infected flooded the area.
They clogged the intersection, creating an unholy roadblock. I
stopped the bike and racked my brain for options. Did I fight my
way through? How deep did the crowd go? Why the fuck were they all
there? Why couldn’t they just leave me alone and let me get HOME?!
Every thought raced for ways to get past them. I reached back and
found the pistol-grip of the Remington. Was I really about to go
guns blazing through a horde of zombies?

Even if the crowd wasn’t that wide I knew I’d
never make it through intact. It was obvious that being so reckless
after making it so far would be foolish and suicidal. I looked to
my side and had an idea. The handlebars shifted and I returned my
dirty boots to the pedals. Slowly I coasted into the sunken parking
lot at the right. Hopefully I had acted quickly enough that the
rotting barricade didn’t take notice of me.

I cautiously biked through the lot to the far
side. A nod of satisfaction confirmed my hopes that there would be
a far entrance to the shopping center. I just needed some way to
draw the horde away from the traffic light and towards the entrance
I’d used before. Pedaling back the way I came I saw my bait. A free
standing BP gas station was located at the lot entrance. It was
made of the same style red brick used in the rest of the buildings
there. The multitude of darkened neon signs and advertisements in
the station windows gave clues to its past. Franchised stores also
had more tacky ways to draw in more business. It was just another
way for the private owner to try and rake in more money and
experience had taught me that wherever there was a dollar-hungry
private business person, there was a car that advertised their
attempt at success.