Broadcast of the Dead
(A Zombie short story)
Lyle Perez-Tinics
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Rainstorm Press on Smashwords
Broadcast of the Dead
Copyright © 2011 Lyle Perez-Tinics
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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Broadcast of the Dead
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Broadcast of the Dead
(A Zombie Short Story)
By Lyle Perez-Tinics
We’ve barricaded the front door with my living room furniture and then boarded up the windows. My brother, Stuart, and I locked ourselves in my upstairs master bedroom. I have no idea what’s going on out in the streets, but I’m glad we made it to my house. What I witnessed today was the most horrifying experience of my life. Stu and I are sitting in the room waiting for the news broadcast to start. Maybe they’ll be able to tell us what’s going on or offer some good information. I still have time to kill so I lean back on my bed and think about everything that has happened the past few hours.
***
I had just finished my usual ten-hour work shift at the Harrison Law Office building. I was not a lawyer nor a paralegal, but the building’s maintenance man. A Janitor was the term I always preferred. Despite my criminal background, I was well accepted. But there were a few folks who didn’t like the idea of an ex-con working next to them. Even if I did keep the toilets clean and made sure the floors were properly vacuumed.
I was no one special, but my boss, Mr. Harrison, really took a shine to me. Back in my criminal days, Mr. Harrison was my legal adviser. He did lose my case, but I never held it against him. I did the crime so I had to do the time. He did promise me work after my release though.
Mr. Harrison was nice enough to give me my very own parking space. The building’s parking lot was in the basement, the spaces were reserved for attorneys only, so it was no surprise they were steamed when Mr. Harrison gave me a spot. The shutter doors in the parking lot open when a car needs to come in or out. If I was parked out in the streets, instead of in my parking spot, I would have been a dead man.
I glanced at my watch. It was precisely 7:00P.M.
“Time to go home.” There was no one in the office with me, so my words were only heard by me.
The Harrison Law Office’s workday ended at five-o’clock, so every day I was alone to lock up the building. This time of year it’s always dark when I head home. I never had a problem with the dark. It never scared me as a kid so I didn’t mind being alone at the end of the day.
I finished double checking the windows and doors to make sure they were all secured. I walked toward the alarm keypad and began to set it. The beeping noise from the alarm arming blared out of the device. I walked, in unison with the beep, as I headed toward the exit. I made my way through the door, and turned to lock it. The beeping was still heard through the door as I waited for it to arm. I always did this; I’m a very cautious person. The office building was five stories high and had an external staircase that ran along the side of the building. The alarm was always to be set from the top floor. Every evening, I had to set the alarm and use the stairs to walk all the way down to the first floor. From there I used a little alley to walk behind the building and through a side door that led into the basement.
The alarm held a beep for a moment which meant it was set. I started walking down the steel stairs and as I made my way down, sirens echoed out in the distance.
I continued making my way down to the bottom floor when something on the ground caught my gaze. I peered over the side rails and in the alley were three guys, standing, huddled together. One had on a hooded sweater with the hood over his head and the other two wore plain black t-shirts. The only thing I could really see were the tops of their heads.
Great, I thought, I’m going to get fucking mugged. A lot of lowlifes live or hang out in Melville. I continued walking down the stairs thinking, I hope they don’t try to mug me, all I have on me is a ten-dollar bill and a Glock 17 tucked into the back of my belt. The magazine was fully loaded in my back pocket, I could have it inserted into the weapon and ready to fire in seconds. I wasn’t stupid; I knew I work in a bad neighborhood so I always carried protection, even if it was against my parole.
The three figures’ heads were fixated on the ground. It seemed as if they were staring at each other’s shoes. I took the last step off the staircase and turned, then began walking toward the group, looking straight ahead to prove I was not afraid to walk past them.
As I approached, the three men glanced up and simultaneously gawked in my direction. The one wearing the hood was the first to raise his arms out in front of him, and then the other two followed suit. It seemed as if they were outstretching their arms to reach for something. The three began walking toward me.
I stopped directly under the building’s lamp post. The light bulb above illuminated most of the alleyway, but the figures were just outside of the light’s glow, I wasn’t able to get a good look at their faces. All I could see was the figures shambling toward me.
Great, here they come. I better just say something, I thought.
“Hey guys, how’s it going?” I said with as much confidence in my voice as possible.
The strangers made no attempt to communicate; they continued walking toward me. I took a few steps back to keep the distance between us. The man with the hood stepped into the light and I froze when I caught a good glimpse at him. The man’s face was completely void of life, his skin was a death pale and his eyes were wide open. I thought his eyeballs were going to fall right out of their sockets. A hiss kept gasping out of his mouth like he was having trouble breathing. The hooded man’s horrid face will forever haunt me.
The crazed man took a few steps closer so I took a few more back. The other two guys walked into the light. Their bodies formed a human V shape as they walked in pattern. All three had white glossy eyes and their exposed flesh was gray with a tint of purple. There were no friendly expressions on their faces, just a confused, puzzled and anticipatory look. One of them had his mouth wide open while the other two’s jaws snapped.
“What the fuck?” I managed to say. I thought they had shot too many drugs and needed help. “Are you guys okay?”
Again there was no answer from any of them. They just kept walking toward me in their slow, staggered movements. I stopped walking back to get a better look at them.
Maybe they were coming to me for help, I thought, but quickly, I learned that stopping to help was a bad idea.
I walked toward hood guy as he continued moving toward me. The man was within reaching distance when he lunged for me. I tried to stagger back but his movements were quick. It shocked the shit out of me. They were moving so slowly and out of nowhere, they sprang to life. He grabbed hold of my arm and tried to bring it up to his mouth. Then, with his other hand, he brought it up and wrapped it around my throat. His hands were cold and felt like I had an ice pack around my neck. I quickly yanked my arm free and shoved my attacker back. He released my throat and fell to the ground. The man bumped into the others as he fell backward. He didn’t even try to break his fall, but he did manage to take them down with him. I heard one of their skulls crack as it hit the pavement.
I stopped messing around and drew my weapon. I took the magazine out of my back pocket and inserted it into the pistol. I pointed it at them with my finger around the trigger, not second guessing about firing.
“Stay down,” I ordered, but they didn’t listen. The men slowly rose to their feet.
“Stop, don’t move,” I said again, but they still didn’t listen. By this point, I was getting very tired repeating myself.
I decided to fire a warning shot into the air to show them I was serious about shooting. My warning shot rang loudly in the little alley; but they didn’t even flinch and continued walking toward me. I pointed the weapon back at them. As soon as one of them was close enough to be shot and have it considered self defense... I fired. The bullet went into the man’s stomach. The force of the impact made him take a step back. He didn’t fall to the ground like I thought he would. I took a few steps back as blood leak out of the wound and fired three more shots. One hit the guy in the hood, making contact with his right knee. He dropped to the asphalt but then started crawling toward me, leaving a trail of blood at his wake. The other two bullets met the third man in the chest and blew out of his back, spraying the wall behind him with blood. None of the shots I fired stopped them. They continued walking and crawling toward me.
I put the gun to my side and mumbled softly in disbelief, “I think it’s time for me to leave.” I have seen some crazy shit in my life, but I have never seen anyone take this many bullets without dropping like a sack of fucking potatoes.
I took the magazine out of the Glock and fired the shot left in the chamber. The bullet went wild; I put the magazine into my pants pocket and holstered the gun back into my waist belt. A Glock 17 doesn’t have a safety lock so ejecting the magazine before holstering it will insure I don’t accidentally shoot myself. I ran around the group in hopes that I could make it to the parking lot door. At this point, all I wanted to do was get away from these guys. As I ran, I noticed that their eyes never let me out of their sight. They didn’t look away once. I made it to the door and turned to take one last look at my attackers only to see them tumble over each other trying to follow me.
The hinges creaked as I yanked the door by its handle and hustled inside. My Maroon 2003 Hyundai Sonata was the only car left in the parking lot. I took the keys out of my pocket and disabled the alarm. At that moment, banging erupted from the door behind me, followed by gargled and air-filled moans. I stared at the door, waiting for it to open. It never did, but the banging continued. I got in my car and turned the ignition.
The tires of my Hyundai peeled out as I hurried toward the shutter doors. As I approached, they slowly began to rise. To my shock, I caught the first glimpse of the devastation that plagued the town of Melville.
Fires blazed wildly out in the distance, woman and children ran wildly as others mauled and attacked the unluckily few who lost balance and fell to the ground. Screams echoed all around as the expressionless folks snapped and nipped at their flesh. I snapped out of my astonishment and quickly made a left turn heading East up Colonial Road.
From my front shirt pocket I pulled out my cell phone and called Stuart. He answered in a calm and relaxed voice, as if nothing was happening. He said was at his house, drinking a beer and watching the basketball game. I told him what I saw, but he didn’t believe me. He was in the middle of asking me if I was drunk when the sound of shattering glass crashed in the background. I heard Stu yell some profanity through the phone’s receiver. “Hold on,” he said, putting the phone down to investigate the noise. A struggling racket began and I heard Stu’s faint voice calling for help.
I screamed into the phone, “I’m on my way,” then threw the phone down onto the passenger seat.
There were a lot of people on the street. Most of them looked like the trio I encountered in the back of the office building. Others were either running or being attacked. There were people on top of people, biting and ripping clothes.
A squad car was stopped over the sidewalk as its lights blared red and blue. As my Sonata approached, I saw a police officer on the ground, motionless, next to the cruiser. His clothes were torn to shreds and the bullet proof vest that was intended to protect him was lying by his feet. The pig’s stomach was ripped wide open. Blood and half eaten intestines were spewed everywhere around him as if someone, or something, tore out his insides to have a snack. I quickly looked away as I noticed that the dead police officer was slowly trying to rise to his feet.
I was the only moving vehicle on the road. All the other cars were either on the sidewalk or left abandoned on the street. Most of them had their headlights on while others flashed hazard lights. The full moon and blazing wild fires kept the streets well lit. I drove slowly so that I wouldn’t hit anyone either running on the road or the expressionless walking in their direction.
I turned the radio on to see if the news was talking about this.
“...eryone please stay in your homes. Lock the doors and barricade yourselves in. The streets are unsafe. The assailants are physically attacking anyone in their paths. Authorities are on the move and the situation will be handled as soon as possible. Again, please in your homes. If you are on the street you will be considered a threat and will be incarcerated.”
That’s all I got hear as Stu’s house was only a few minutes from my work. Getting out of the car, I reached for the Glock and unhooked it from my belt as the car door swung and shut behind me. The magazine in my pocket still had a few rounds unfired. I ran toward Stu’s house, taking the magazine from my pocket and inserting it into the pistol. There were a few of those expressionless outside, but I ran past them. Turning the knob to Stu’s front door, I let myself in and slammed the door shut behind me.
“Stu?” I held the pistol out in front of me ready to fire. “Stu?” I yelled again.
The glow from the television screen illuminated the otherwise dark living room. A T.V. dinner tray sat on top of the coffee table. From the smell of it, I knew it was cardboard steak. One of the most foul smelling things in the world.
“I’m in here.” A faint voice responded to my query from the kitchen.
Heading left, I rushed into the kitchen. Stu was next to the kitchen table, standing over a lifeless body on the titled floor. Stu held a baseball bat with his right hand. A stream of blood conjoined at the tip of the bat and red drops fell to the floor.
“Are you okay?” I asked panicked. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, setting the bat down next to the kitchen counter. “This guy fucking crashed into my sliding glass door. He just walked through it. I ran in and he was face down on the floor. The broken glass cut him up good so I thought he was dead. I was going to call an ambulance, but the fucker just stood up. He looked at me and tried to bite me. We struggled for a bit and I pushed him off. I grabbed my bat and bashed his fuckin’ head in. We need to get rid of this body Stanley, I can’t go back to prison. Come on, help me, grab his legs. We’ll stuff him in my couch and take it to the dump tomorrow.”
Stu stood over the man’s upper body; he knelt down and reached for the man’s shoulders. Stu and I have disposed of a lot of bodies in our past, but today, I didn’t think we’d get in trouble for this.
“Stuart,” I said, almost yelling, “I don’t think it’s going to matter. Something’s going on outside. I’m not sure what it is but it’s somethin’ big. We have to get out of here and stay off the streets. The cops are cracking down on anyone outside. We need to make it to my house, your glass door is fucked, we’ll be safer there. Go get your guns, we’re gonna need them.”
“Yeah, okay, but I’m running low on ammo. It’s getting harder to come by.”
“Don’t worry about that, just go get what you have, but hurry, there’s more of these people outside.” I pointed in the direction of the front door.
Stuart darted out of sight like a ghost. I waited in the kitchen examining the man my brother had killed. He smashed this gray skinned man’s head in real good. The top left of his head was nothing but a big open hole, blood and brain matter oozed out. His eyes and mouth were fixed open; his teeth were covered with a thick layer of dried blood. He appeared dead... really dead. The expressionless I fought in the alley looked like this thing, but they were still moving. I shot them and it didn’t have any affect. Why was this one laying here lifeless when the other ones didn’t die when I shot them?
“Maybe it’s the head.” The words flew out of my mouth in revelation.
Banging erupted at the front door.
“Stu, hurry up, we have company.” I looked away from the body and slowly stood.
Stuart came back into sight carrying two gun cases, one contained his beloved AK-47 and the other, a .357 magnum revolver.
“Here, give me the revolver,” I said, putting the Glock on the nearest countertop, “We need to go out the back. Load up the magazines on the AK and leave the rest of the ammo here. I have more at my place. The less we have to carry to my house, the better.”
He handed me the small case. I placed it on the table and opened it. The kitchen light reflected off the silver firearm. Also inside the case was a box of rounds. I placed the ammo on the table and took the firearm out of the padded foam. Memories of the gun flashed in my head as I pushed in the cylinder release. The cylinder came out of the gun’s frame. I took some rounds out of the box and inserted them. I gave it a quick spin for good luck and slapped it back into place.
I watched Stu as he loaded cartridges into the magazine of the AK. Thoughts of our criminal days kept running in my head. The last time I saw him load an AK we were about to rob the Melville bank. Stu was caught by the pigs that day; I ran into the woods and was able to get away. Stu though, went to prison for five years. I was caught a year later, but only got two years in prison. After we both got out, we decided to go straight, but we still love playing with guns. It took us a few months, but we found Stu another AK that was just like the one taken away from the cops. He was thrilled.
“All right, Stan let’s go.” Stu put one of the magazines into the assault rifle and shoved the rest into the front pocket of his sweater.
I grabbed a few more rounds for the .357 and put them in my shirt’s front pocket. I reached for the Glock with my right hand; leaving the .357 in my left. The safety was off on the Magnum so it was time to go. I may have played strong in front of Stu, but I was deathly terrified, I didn’t want to go back out there but we had to. My house would be safer until we could figure out what was going on.
Here I go again, I thought, stepping into a world gone mad.
Stu had the bigger weapon so he took point, I followed closely behind him. We made our way around the house. There were six of them, all banging on the front door trying to gain entrance. My car was directly behind them parked over the sidewalk and on Stu’s lawn. We ran in that direction, trying not to make eye contact with them.
We made it inside and I started the engine. The loud roar brought attention to us. All six turned and looked in our direction.
“They look dead, don’t they?” Stu asked. “Kind of like they’re zombies.”
“Don’t be stupid, Stu.” I putting the car into drive and stepping on the accelerator. “We don’t know what the hell is going on. It could be mass hysteria or whatever the fuck they call it.”
Stu went quiet and stared off into the decimated streets. Not too many people were on the streets now, cars were everywhere though. I had to swerve around them. We were the only ones moving and everyone stared in our direction. All of them had that same expressionless look of dead as everyone I’ve encountered that evening.
The drive was uneventful. We made it to my house with no trouble. I parked in the driveway and turned the car off. We got out and looked around the small neighborhood. Everything seemed normal, but with all the shit happening tonight, I didn’t trust the silence. We walked to my front door when we saw one. He was turning the corner of my house. I had no idea what he was doing there or how he got there, but he was walking toward us. My trash cans were in his path but he didn’t pay any attention to them. He continued walking, knocking over the cans and spilling garbage on my yard.
Stu tugged on my arm and said, “you think we’re not dealing with zombies? I’ll show you.”
He turned to face the man again and raised the weapon to his shoulder. The AK roared as he unloaded the entire magazine into the expressionless. It stopped him dead in his tracks as each bullet ripped though his gray flesh. The man fell and landed with a loud thud as he hit the ground. Blood poured out of the holes in his body.
What a waste of ammo, I thought.
I might have punched Stu if I didn’t have over a thousand rounds for the AK in my house.
We waited for a matter of seconds to see if the expressionless would rise again. I thought I’d hear someone yell that they were going to call the cops. We didn’t hear anything, just silence, the man started moving again. He sat up and stared in our direction. I don’t know why I didn’t believe Stu. I’ve seen this happen before. I shot three and they kept coming. I guess I was just tired of my big brother always being right.
The man stood to his feet with blood still exiting from the bullet holes. His clothes were tattered and what was left of his flesh was exposed. I pulled the hammer back on the revolver and walked up to the man.
“Well if they are zombies.” I raised the gun up to the man’s head. “Then this will stop him.” I pulled the trigger as the expressionless trashed its arms for me. The bullet went through his left eye socket. A sickening noise erupted from the back of his head as the bullet exploded out leaving a baseball-sized hole. Brain matter and blood flew out the gaping hole. The man fell back onto the ground and didn’t move.
We didn’t say anything to each other. We finished walking to the front door. I took the keys out of my pocket, unlocked the door and walked in.
My house was always dark, I love my privacy. I flicked the light switch on and closed the door behind Stu. Immediately we barracked ourselves inside, and then headed for the master bedroom to wait for the news.
***
I snap out of my daze when Stu starts flipping through the television channels.
All of the regular programming is on. I would have thought that in a disaster like this, the news would be on every channel. It doesn’t even seem like anything is going on. There is always a news update at eight, that’s what we’re waiting for.
I lean back in my chair again and continue waiting. I close my eyes when an all too familiar tune begins to play. The news update is starting so I sit up and anticipate the information.
“Hello and good evening, I’m Glen Sanders bringing you your eight o’clock news update. Breaking news... police reports confirm that the town of Melville has been overrun by assailants said to be infected with a virus known as Hemagglu-A. This virus has spread 20 miles within the past 4 hours. The infected seem dazed and unwilling to reason. They are hostile and should be avoided at all costs. New reports suggest that the infected are...”
Glen pauses, holding his right ear. He looks to his left and speaks into the earpiece.
“Is this correct? Has this been confirmed? I’m not saying this to the public if it’s...”
He pauses.
“Okay, yes, I understand.”
Glen looks back to the video camera and addresses the viewing public.
“New reports confirm that the infected are... the recently deceased coming back to life and attacking the living. This has been confirmed and re-confirmed by experts and many other news stations. It is true; the infected are in fact the living dead. I know this is hard to believe, but denial may cost you your life.”
***
“I told you!” Stu yells. There is no reason to yell, I’m only a few feet away.
“Shhh,” I respond turning back to watch the news cast.
***
“Dr. Thomas Blakeman, an expert in the field of viral epidemics, is standing by to answer a few questions. Dr. Blakeman can you hear me?”
The screen splits in two, one side is a headshot of Glen and the other of the doctor.
“Yes, I can hear you Glen; just Thomas would be fine. Please continue.”
“Welcome Thomas, thank you for joining us on this bizarre story.”
“Thank you for having me.”
“What can you tell us about Hemagglu-A?”
“Well Glen, Hemagglu-A is a blood disease that stops your body from creating new white cells. Once you’re infected with Hemagglu-A the human body shuts down completely. The immune system is none existent and the body could die from a simple sore throat. The tests we have conducted after the first cadaver stood up in the Crystal Springs morgue shows that Hemagglu-A is not the cause. In all honesty we do not know what is causing the dead to rise.”
“This is unbelievable. You said Patient Zero, the first known carrier of the disease, was in the Crystal Springs morgue? Do you know how the infection spread into the nearby towns?”
“We believe that the cadaver in Crystal Springs was not Patient Zero. This was just the first time I came into contact with one of the infected. My colleagues and I studied the subject behind a glass window. No one wanted to be around the infected male.”
“Was the patient hostile from the beginning?”
“Yes. His eyes opened a little after the nurse wheeled him into the morgue. The sudden act of movement shocked the nurse causing her she leap away. After composing herself she began feeling his neck for a pulse. That’s when the infected male attacked. I was not there when this assault took place, but the nurse reported to the authorities that his eyes opened and attacked her like a vicious animal, biting into her forearm and tearing away a chunk of flesh. The man proceeded to consume the piece of tissue he snagged. The nurse later became ill while getting treated for the bite she suffered in the attack.”
“Excuse me, did you say he consumed her flesh?”
“Yes, the cadaver bit into her forearm and managed to take a hunk of flesh. He continued to chew and swallow. We cannot be one-hundred percent sure if this is what happened but all the evidence shows this is true.”
“What would cause someone to become a cannibal?”
“Like I said, we do not know. I can only inform you of what we have observed.”
“What was the infected male doing while you observed him?”
“He was doing nothing. He stood in a corner and stayed there the entire time. Only when one of the police officers was sent in to bond the cadaver, did he move. It was very hard for the police officer to get a grip on him so the first attempt was a failure. The infected male struggled with the police officer, trying to bite any piece of exposed flesh. On the second attempt, the officer managed to cuff the infected male, and then bonded him to a metal slab table. Once the patient was subdued we began our experiments. He was, in fact, dead. There was no heartbeat, no blood pressure, there was nothing. His eyes were glazed over with a thin layer of a white cloudy substance. The entire time his mouth snapped at us, trying to bite anyone who got close.”
“Fascinating. Thomas I am being told that we must move on and we should have you back on if any new information is available. Is there any final comment you would like to inform us with?”
“Yes, Glen, I will join my colleagues for our next experiment with the cadaver. The only advice I can give you is do not make any contact with the infected. The virus is one-hundred percent fatal. All who are infected will come back to life and attack the living.”
“Thank you, Thomas, please keep us posted.” The screen flashes and goes back to Glen, who shuffles papers around the news desk. He looks back into the camera. “Thank you for joining us this has been your eight o’clock news update. Please join us again for your news update at 9. I’m Glen Sanders.”
***
Regular programming returns to the screen. I’d be watching Two and a Half Men right now but we have work to do. I look over to Stu, he’s sitting on the corner of my bed with an indescribable facial expression. I can’t believe this is really happening. Everything was so normal this morning. I got up and went to work, I got off of work and the world turned to shit. I hate how the news station doesn’t give you any useful information. All they can do is tell you to stay home. What about when the infection reaches my front door. What the fuck are we going to do then?
“Hey Stu,” I say getting up from the bed and heading out the door. “Get up and let’s go get the rest of my ammo.”
In my spare time I created some hidden closets around the house, you never know when the cops will surround the place. I use some to hold ammo and anything else I don’t want people to find.
We walk to each closet and take everything we can back to the bedroom and set the ammo on the bed. I start loading a magazine for the Glock. I look behind me and Stu is walking in the door with the rest of the ammo.
“Is that everything?” I ask.
“Yeah. What do you think is going to happen?”
“To what, life?”
“Yeah,” he says with a nervous tone, “If this is as bad as what the news says then where are we going to go? What are we going to do? Fight our way out of town?”
“Look Stu, I have no idea what we’re going to do. I think we’re just going to stay here and if something comes up we’ll grab our shit and head out. We know how to stop these fuckers if they get in our way. It’s only us. We have no one else to worry about.”
“Well don’t you think we should..?”
We interrupt your regular scheduled programming to bring you this special news update...
“This hour just flew by, wait...” I look at my watch, “it’s only been half an hour. Something must be going on. Stu turn it up.”
***
“This is Glen Sanders with an urgent news update. Chaos and horror is now sweeping the nation as the unknown virus spreads across the United States. We have confirmed reports of the dead rising from as far as the Utah boarder. We have again Thomas Blakeman with us to explain what they have learned. Thomas?”
The screen splits and both Glen’s and Thomas’ headshot appears. Thomas looks as colorless as a phantom. Sweat runs down his forehead. He raises his hand in front of his mouth and coughs. The nails on his hand are bright yellow.
“Thomas, are you okay?”
“Yes, Glen, please, let’s continue.”
“Is there any new information you can give us?”
“Yes Glen. This virus is like nothing we’ve ever seen. It reanimates dead tissue cells and brings them back to life. This is not to be taken lightly. The infected are dangerous in numbers. They are in fact dead and they seem to only want to do one thing. They want to eat human flesh. We do not know why. The virus is spread through fluidic contact. Bites, scratches or even blood splatter will more than likely infect you. The virus doesn’t seem to be airborne so your chances of getting infected staying away from these people are highly unlikely. Best advice we can give to the people is to stay calm, stay at home away from the infected. If someone has been infected, isolate or eliminate them as soon as possible. So far, we know of only one way to stop the infected and that is to destroy the brain. So please everyone stay in your home and don’t try to seek out loved ones. Board up your windows, barricade your doors and if you have multiple floors destroy the staircase and stay above ground. The infected are not very intelligent and their coordination is limited. None of them have ever been seen jumping or even climbing. They don’t notice any of their surroundings unless there is a living person in their presence. This is the best advice we can give you, your local police and the United States Military are working to secure the infected areas.”
”Do you know how long it takes for the virus to slay the victim?”
“The nurse that was bitten earlier today expired not to long ago. I was in her room at the time she flat-lined. The nurses and doctor came in with the crash cart when her eyes reopened. The noise from the EKG was still beeping, but she was looking around at everyone. The nurses ran out the door and then the doctor. I leaned in closer to examine her, thinking she was subdued, when she lunged forward and bit into my shoulder. I already feel the effects of the virus spreading through my body.”
The screen goes black for a few seconds and returns with Glen in the newsroom.
“I believe we have just lost our feed with Thomas.” Glen says, his voice trembling as he continues, “I hope he’s going to be all right.” He shuffles papers around looking down at his desk as his hands come into view. He’s obviously frightened and can’t control his nerves. He looks back into the camera and continues. “The White House has declared a State of Emergency. Marshall Law has just been put into effect in all cities known to be infected. The police are asking all citizens to please stay in your homes until they sort out the situation. The President will be holding a press conference in just a few minutes, but first we have our Field Reporter, Rick Abbott, coming to us live from R.C. Park. Rick can you hear me?”
The screen flashes black, when the picture comes back on, Rick is standing next to a sign that reads, “Randi Connelly Memorial Park”. A patch of open field is on his right and off in the distance human silhouettes are seen moving in his direction. He has a microphone in his right hand, holding it up to his mouth.
“Yes, Glen I can hear you. I’m standing right outside the R.C. Memorial Park and as you can see behind me, there is a massive amount of infected walking about. They are at a distance so we are safe here for the time being. They are slow and are easy to out-run. They are very quiet so you’ll need to watch your back. We have just witnessed an attack so we are a little jumpy. If you must go outside for any reason please be armed with a blunt object such as a crowbar or even a firearm. If you’re being attacked remember, destroy the brain and don’t let the infected bite or scratch you. Like Dr. Blakeman said we urge everyone to stay home and stay above ground. If you have an abundance of supplies please take them with you. There is no way of knowing how long this threat will last, but looking at the number of infected... it’s not looking good.”
The infected continue to close the gap between them and Rick.
“They are getting closer so we better get out of here.” A very faint voice says over Rick’s voice as he continues talking about the infected. Rick stops talking and looks behind him. The horde of undead have tripled since he last looked in their direction.
“Oh sh(bleep)! Let’s go!”
The camera does not turn off and is dropped to the Cameraman’s side. The camera is pointed towards the infected closing in. Rick and the Cameraman run back to the news station van, the camera bumps up and down as they move. The Cameraman trips and falls over a rock placed in the middle of a grass patch. The camera lands on the perfect angle to get a back view of the infected heading towards him.
“Ow, my leg,” The Cameraman yells out in pain.
He tries to get back up ignoring the pain, but falls down again. As he lands, the side of his head hits a watermelon sized rock. Blood immediately begins running down his face as his mouth drops open in surprise. Rick backtracks and helps him up, but his body is limp. The cameraman looks to be going into shock and as the infected get closer, Rick begins to panic. He drops the Cameraman realizing that blood has covered his clothes. He looks at the blood on his hands and says, “I’m sorry.”
Rick looks into the camera and picks it up. He spins the camera around to look behind him. The infected are a few feet away now, their eyes fixated on the Cameraman lying helpless on the ground. Rick runs, only taking a few steps when he stops and looks behind him again, the dead surround the Cameraman. All of them kneel down and rip into his flesh. The expressionless claw, bite and rip apart any piece of exposed flesh. Each infected bring chunks of flesh to their mouth and chew. The camera continues recording the mayhem for a few more seconds before Rick turns it and runs. The screen goes black.
The picture does not return for a matter of seconds. Glen comes back into view, sitting behind the news-desk.
“Rick? I believe we’ve lost Rick. Sorry you had to see that. Our hearts and prayers go out to the Cameramen’s family.” He sighs. “Please understand it is dangerous to go outside and casualties will happen if you’re not careful.”
A look of shock washes over Glen’s face.
“WHAT?” he yells into his earpiece. “Has this been confirmed?” Another long sigh leaves his mouth. Sweat is clearly visible falling down his forehead. He loosens his necktie and unbuttons the top of his collared shirt then stares back into the camera. You could almost feel the hurt in his voice.
“We have just been informed that the President and most of his staff have passed away a few moments ago. Details are obscure but it’s being reported that the President was infected earlier today. He expired minutes ago as he was preparing to address the nation. Shortly after his dead, the Commander in Chief rose to attack his staff. The Secretary of Defense, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the First Lady and more of the presidential staff were in attendance. The secret service had strict orders to eliminate anyone infected, which included the President himself. This is by far the darkest day in American history.
Vice President James Baker has taken the responsibilities of Commander-in-Chief and there is no word on when he will address the nation. We have to...”
The television went completely dark. We stare into the darkened screen waiting for something to happen.
“The President, Bro,” Stu says, breaking the silence. “He just took out his own people. Well, that’s what they’re saying anyway.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe it. Society is falling apart fast. What do you want to do?”
Stu pauses, and then give a malicious smile. “I want to kill all of these fuckers. One of them broke my damn glass door. Maybe we can take care of all of them and things will go back to normal. I hate having guns with nothing to shoot but now... we can shoot these things without worrying about the cops.”
I smile at my brother’s attempt to hide the fact that he’s terrified. “All right, let’s just stay here until we know more of what we’re dealing with. Hopefully the news will come back on... with all this shit happening I bet they’re having technical difficulties.”
“Or maybe it’s your stupid ass old TV,” Stu utters as he walks up to the TV. “I’ll fix it.” He begins playing with the cables.
“I don’t know, I think it’s the network, Stu.”
“Are you sure?” Stu asks as he continues pushing cables.
“Yeah just go to another channel and see if you get a picture.”
Stu pushes the button and the channel changes. Most stations have mindless commercials on with black text rolling at the bottom of the screen that reads,
Attention: President Kepler dead, Vice President Baker will address the nation. Streets are unsafe. Please stay in your homes. We are in a State of Emergency. Remain calm, stay tuned for further instructions.
“Go back to channel five.” Stu turns the channel but the screen is still black. “Just leave it there; hopefully they’ll come back in a little bit.”
A few seconds pass and the screen flickers as a black & white helicopter view of the city emerges out of the darkness. There is no sound and it’s hard to distinguish what we are seeing. A crowd of about fifteen expressionless circle a group of four citizens.
Fire out of gun muzzles appears every few seconds. With every gun flash one of the infected falls to the ground. The picture stays on the group until all of their attackers have been brought down.
The camera looks as if it’s about to pan out, when one of the fallen infected explodes. A few seconds later, another detonates followed by another. Each time an infected explodes it sprays the group with contaminated blood. The camera shakes with every explosion.
After the last infected on the screen explodes, the group on the ground is motionless. Minutes pass and one by one, the group stands up and begins walking in that familiar infected march. The screen flickers again and goes dark.
I look down and notice I still have rounds and a magazine in my hands. I’m standing next to the bed trying to make sense of everything I just saw.
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!” Stu yells.
I motion for him to keep his voice down and say, “I have no fucking clue; it looked like they exploded once they were brought down. Maybe it’s a counter-attack?”
“Yeah, right, like the Predator after Arnold kicked his ass?” Stu spat back sarcastically.
“I suppose,” I reply trying to keep calm. “The one I shot outside didn’t explode. Maybe it’s only some of them?”
“Well how are we supposed to know the difference between them?” Stu asks agitated
“I don’t know. We might find out when the news comes back on.”
“If it ever does...” His voice trails off then comes back angrily, “I hate not fucking knowing!”
He throws a round at the television screen.
“Stu, calm down, you’re going to break my fucking TV. We’ll figure something out. We always do. Remember when we were jumped in the alley of that strip joint?”
Stu smiles as he remembers our past, “Yeah, those fools came out of nowhere. How many did we end up killing?”
“The count was four, and the other three took off running once they saw the knives.”
Stu’s smile increases in size and says, “Yeah, good times. I miss that knife I wonder whatever happened to it.” He begins to shadow fight the air acting as if he has a knife in his hand.
“I don’t know, but see? We’ve been in jams before and always manage to make it out. This shouldn’t be any different. Yeah they’re dead, but if we’re careful we can deal with anything these fuckers throw at us. So stop being a little prissy bitch.” I laughed at my joke. Stu does not like being called a bitch. But I do it anyway to get him worked up. He stops shadow fighting and gives me a cold look.
“I’m only fucking with you,’” I say still laughing. I look back down at my hand and continue loading rounds into the magazine.
“I’m starving,” Stu says angrily, “Do you have anything to eat?”
“You mean you didn’t have enough to eat with that cardboard steak? Check the fridge and bring me back something too, oh and a beer.”
Stu walks out of the room as I place the fully loaded magazine on the bed. I look over my shoulder in the direction of the closet then turn and walk toward it. I slid the closet door out of the way and look for my tactical vest. It hangs on a coat hanger. I bring it out and place it on the bed then take my shirt off and put a clean one on. I put the tactical vest on and begin putting magazines in the pockets.
“STAN!” Stu yells from the hallway at the top of the stairs. I run out of the room with the Glock in my hand in the direction of the yell. I see Stu looking out a window that has a view of the front yard. I run up to him.
“What’s up?”
“Look,” he replies pointing out the window.
My mouth falls open as I peer out the windows to see hundreds of expressionless outside. The dead are on the streets and on the neighbor’s lawn. They came out of nowhere, probably followed my car here.
“It’s a good thing we got here when we did,” I say.
“Yeah right,” A malicious grin washes over Stu’s face.
“And we’re back, we seemed to have some technical difficulties. Thanks again for joi...”
“The news cast is on again,” I say. We walk back into the bedroom. I stand in front of the television and watch.
***
“The images you last saw were from our Channel Five News Chopper. We received the video feed but the coding interrupted our signal. The picture you saw was accidentally streamed to your television.
“We know that obliterating the brain immobilizes the infected. News reports and the images you saw show that the infected will explode seconds after the brain is decimated. Not all infected will explode after being destroyed. Only those who have bright yellow skin color. We do not understand why they are doing this, but avoid destroying the yellow skinned infected.”
Glen clears his throat and continues.
“We all have seen what has been going on in the streets these last few hours. This is nothing like we’ve ever seen. We have just received word that the epidemic has spread to all of the 48 home states. No new reports are coming from Hawaii or Alaska. We can only hope there’s no disturbance. News updates from New York, Massachusetts and Florida have stopped coming in. We believe it to be a technical difficulty, but there is no answer from telephones, landlines or mobile. We did receive this video before our connection was lost. Please be advised this tape is highly graphic.”
The screen goes blank and a very bad quality cell phone video begins playing. A party is underway with underage teenagers walking and dancing in front of the camera. Bottles of Corona and Captain Morgan are in view. One kid looks into the camera and screams, “I can’t feel my legs!”
The camera shies away from that kid. “Idiot,” someone says in a soft voice over the music. A group of teenagers are circled around a shirtless teenage male. A red mark is clearly seen on the left side of his stomach.
“Hey guys check this out,” He points to the person taking the video. “You too Chris, bring your big ass over here.”
“Steve, put your shirt back on; you’re scaring the girls away. We don’t have enough alcohol to make you look good.”
They both laugh at the joke. The camera bounces up and down as the laughter continues.
“All right, check this out. You’re recording right?”
“Yeah, yeah just go already.”
Steve stands on top of a table and jumps into the air. He twists his body mid air doing a back flip, but doesn’t spin all the way and comes crashing down to the floor. The crowd awes when his head makes contact with the wooden floor boards. The sound of bone breaking echoes in the air. The crowd pauses, then laugher erupts, even the cameraman laughs, bouncing the camera as he snorts. Steve’s body lays there motionless.
A female voice in the crowd says, “Guys, shut up.” The teens quiet as the girl continues, “I think he’s hurt, we better call an ambulance.” She kneels down to check a pulse.
Another person in the crowd yells, “Where’s Derrick? It’s his house, tell him to call.”
The camera moves around the room full of panicked teens. With every person Chris runs into, he asks, “Have you seen Derrick?”
Chris walks into a bedroom and notices a body standing in a corner. His back is to the camera.
“Hey Derrick, we have a problem over here, come look.”
There is no answer, Derrick’s arms reach up to his mouth.
“Derrick... hey! What the hell are you doing?” Chris asks.
Derrick slowly looks behind him with gray glossy eyes and his mouth is covered in blood. The camera moves away as Chris takes a big step back. Derrick turns his entire body revealing his stomach wide open and his entrails dangle out. In his hand, he has a piece of his large intestine. Derrick drops his snack; a loud smack echoes as it hits the floor. Derrick walks toward the camera.
“Jesus (bleep)ing Christ!”
Chris runs back to the room where the accident happened, the camera bouncing along as he runs. The camera moves from left to right, no one is in sight. The camera looks down to where Steve’s body laid but it is gone, replaced by a pool of blood with a human imprint. Screaming begins as the camera looks towards the back door. To the left side of the screen the figure of a man is seen moving slowly toward the back door. Chris moves the camera towards the figure. It’s Steve; his head is drooped down the side of his body. It doesn’t look like his spinal cord is intact. A moan erupts behind the camera. Chris turns around as Derrick reaches for him. The camera drops to the floor and gets kicked in to a corner. The lights dim as a painful cry echoes in the background.
***
The screen flashes and returns to Glen. The coat from his suit is gone, along with his red tie. His light blue shirt is fully unbuttoned exposing a bleach white undershirt. The camera is no longer steady, there’s a lot of background noise, people talking and loud footsteps. Glenn is looking toward the camera but his head is tilted down. His hand is up to his ear trying to listen to his earpiece.
“What do you mean they’re inside the building...?” He pauses to listen. “All of them?” His nerves show as his hand began to shake. “Cut it short? But I have about 30 minutes worth of material. I can’t get all this information out before we...”
Again he listens to the voice in the earpiece.
A shaky voice from the background says, “Glen you’re on!”
Glen looks back into the camera. His eyes are blood shot. He’s breathing heavily and sweat continues to fall down his forehead. He holds a white page in front of him. The page is shaking in his hand. He swallows and then continues.
“Please forgive the interruption. It appears that the infected outside our building have broken through our barricade and are now inside the Channel 5 News building. I will have enough time to get this information out to you then I’ll proceed to the bomb shelter where the Channel 5 News employees will hold up. There are four military protected zones in our county. They offer food, water and protection to anyone looking for refuge. The military is also asking that any able man ages 18-35 to please show up ready to be armed and join the fight. Manpower is running short and it is becoming harder to hold off the increasing number of infected. Upon arrival please be ready to give a blood sample followed by a quick cheek swab. No one infected will be let in through the gates. If there is an infected person in your party they will be shot on sight and burned. If there are any loved ones already infected, leave them behind as it is already too late for them. Any extra supplies you can bring will be welcomed, food, water, medical supplies etc. Please look at the bottom of the screen for the locations of the four safe zones.”
White text appears at the bottom of the screen that reads ‘4565 Catty Road, Oceanside ---- 79960 Wilkins Street, Rainbow ---- 940 Sonic Avenue, Escondido ---- 86753 Solar Avenue, Cedar.’
Glen continues, his speech moving faster, “The safe zones are visible from the addresses given below. A copy of the locations has been posted on the Channel 5 News website. Up-to-date news and information will also be available there. As of now the Internet is the only reliable source of information. Most television channels have already turned to the Emergency Broadcasting System. We here at Channel 5 News must log off now and everyone please stay safe. I’m Glen San...”
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(Pages 1-28 show above.)