U.G.L.Y (11 page)

    
There
was
already
some
talk
about
the
accident
as
I
walked
in.
Common
to
disasters
in
the
area
there
were
people
in
the
fire
department
and
police
department
that
used
amateur
radio
to
communicate,
and
during
the
first
wave
their
local
communication
network
was
dialed
in
fairly
good.
Most
restaurants
had
a
portable
handset
and
would
listen
to
emergency
traffic
regularly.
So
word
was
being
transmitted
that
the
accident
was
a
charter
bus
full
of
sick
and
there
were
no
survivors
of
the
wreck.

After
a
body
count of the crash victims,
a
number
of
bunks were
empty.
A
manifest
of
passengers
was
found
in
the
wreckage
and
it
was
confirmed
that
four
bodies
were
missing.

“
Missing
bodies?
”
Dave,
a
local
that
was
sitting
at
the
bar
said
out
loud
“
How
the
hell
are
the
bodies
missing?
They
must
have
survived and wondered into the woods.
”

     Hours
passed
and
the
bar
continued
to
fill
with
people
eager
to
hear
the
latest
news
about
the
accident.
No
more
news
about
the
missing
bodies
was
passed
through
the
radio
and
discussion
about
what
might
have
happened
to
them
faded into the background.

“Anybody seen anyone from the rescue crew?”
Christine,
a
young
forestry
volunteer,
Walked
into
the
bar and began to order food for the rescue workers.
I
overheard
her
talking
with
the
bartender
about
how
a
group
of
county
rescue
workers
was
out
searching
for
survivors.
They
had
been
out
for
hours
. A
s
the
wreck
was
being
winched
out
of
the
ravine
,
radio
contact
was
abruptly
cutoff.

One of the rescuers that was looking for survivors was talking to a command post when he was cut off
in
mid
sentence.
A
scream
was
heard
across
the
radios.
It
was
a
short,
blood
curdling
scream
that
lasted
only
seconds,
then
static.
Everyone
got
quiet
as
the
exhausted
woman
continued.
When
she
finished
it
was
silent
in
the
bar
and
you
could
hear
cars
passing
on
the
highway several blocks away.
I
n
the
distance
a
lone
coyote
cried,
then
faintly
a
scream.
Christine
froze.

“
That's
it!
”
she
exclaimed,
her
voice
shaking
“
that's
the
scream
we
heard
across
the
radio
”
.

    
She
was
terrified.
W
e
all
listened,
we heard it
again,
slightly
louder
than
before,
than
another
overlapping
it.
Everyone
knew
what
it
was,
those
screams
were
seared
into
our
memories
as
the
screams
of
the
infected
heard
over
and
over
in
news
reports tat aired continuously during
the
first
wave.
Somehow it was happening again and
coming
towards
town
and
there
was
more
than
one.

     I
stared
blankly out the open door of the bar towards the faint screams, then
back
to
Christine. T
he
terrified
look
on
her
face
as
she
heard
the
screams sent a chill through me.
I hadn't realized yet
that
in the woods a growing group of infected were approaching.
The
sound
of
that distinctive
scream
had
been locked in a dark corner
of
my
memory
and
I
associated
it
with
a surreal shadowed perception of the world around me
. A dark closet full of nightmares.

It
was
unreal,
in the first wave
the infected
were
miles
away
and
they
couldn't
get
to
me
.
But
now
they
were
close,
out
there in the hills,
and
they
seemed
to
be
growing
in
number.

Me
and
a
few
others
walked
outside
into
what
was
now
a
dark
parking
lot
and
listened.
The
screams
were
growing,
overlapping
more,
it
sounded
like
there
were
many
voices
and
although
still
faint,
they
were
getting
louder.

    
Time
passed
slowly,
agonizingly slow as we waited for the appearance of the infected. like a horror film, an overwhelming feeling of doom grew
as
the
minutes
passed.

From
the
parking
lot
I
could
see
the
edge
of
the
tree line bordering the town. The woods continued east,
in
the
direction
we
had
heard
the
screams.
I
t
was
maybe
100
yards
from the bar
and
dimly
lit
by
a
street
light
that
was
close
by.

The
screams
had
stopped
abruptly
only
a
few
minutes
before,
and
the
last
we heard before the infected appeared was
coming
from
the
top
of
the
ridge
across
town
.

“
Shit!
”
a
man
next
to
me
whispered loudly.
“
something
is
moving
in
the
tree
line
”
.

I thought to myself that it m
ay be
just
a
coyote
or
a
bobcat. The area was full of wildlife. Often people would run into  bobcat,
Mt.
Lion
and even the occasional bear.

“
Look,
look,
look!
”
the
man
said
“
right
there
”
.

Then
we
saw
it,
stumbling
from
the
shadows.
A
figure clumsily walked into the dimly lit area under the street light. A man stood there
,
dressed
in
a
fire
fighters
uniform
with
a
bright
orange
vest
and
ropes
slung
over
his
shoulders.
It
had to be a member
of
the
rescue
team
that
was
out
looking
for
the
survivors
of
the
crash.