Post by jackbull on Jul 17, 2009 0:06:13 GMT -5
The warm morning air drifted about slowly as another day dawned in Dallas. The sky was clear except for a few old trails left by passing airliners. A beautiful blanket of blue tinged with a light hue on the horizon, as the sun truly began it’s inexorable daily march. And down below? Fields of green and light brown grass, lushly coated trees swaying gently in the breeze. Their leaves rustled softly, a sign of a peaceful day to come. And among this idyllic pasture a small, old ranch stands. It’s wood slated walls showing their age a little. Paintwork fading away in numerous but almost invisible little spots. To it’s front a short, dusty trail that led to the main road. To the rear an open yard, void of all but a few items that might indicate habitation. To the side of the yard a tall but stubby barn, its red walls contrasting with all around it, but in a homely, warm fashion. And further back a sun lounger, stretched out for just an occasion such as this. Upon it, two spectators to a glorious sunrise.
Jack Bull lay quietly, his head resting on his folded right arm, his left arm wrapped around Lauren as she laid her cheek against his chest. Covered in a thin woollen blanket they rested. The previous night they had talked, they had laughed, they had glanced, and finally they confessed. Their confession led to an embrace and now hours later, they shared their first morning together. Jack watched as the wispy remnants of condensation trails drifted casually across the sky. He gently stroked the arm of his new beloved and dreamed of days in the sun together. He thought of all the time they had been but employer and employee, all the while harbouring the same thoughts of each other, both too afraid to break a trusted and happy friendship for the risk of saying “I love you”. And now what days lay ahead of them? Mornings and afternoons, evenings and nights. All spent aside each other, together, in perfect harmony. Today marked a fresh new beginning and that excited Jack.
All around them the grass leaned and swayed ever so slightly, submitting to the slightest aggressive intent of the wind, before recoiling defiantly after it passed. Birds chirped as they went about their morning routines. Somewhere in the adjacent field a grasshopper clicked and buzzed a message, discernable only to his kind. And way off in the distance a faint pop. Almost like a distant gunshot. Jack thought nothing more of it as he sleepily settled back. A few minutes later another muffled crack carried its way out to where Jack lay. A sirens wale just barely reached out across the open ground and tickled Jacks eardrum a fraction. He ignored the sounds of possible misfortune for someone distant. Instead he merely pulled Lauren in a little tighter and allowed sleep to draw it’s comforting blanket over him.
*******
“Jack get up!!”. Laurens voiced pierced through the still air.
“Jack for gods sake wake up!” she screamed as she rushed towards him. Jacks eyes slowly crept open and he took in the beautiful blue above him. He shifted on the lounger in a bid to achieve perfect comfort.
“C’mon Jack get dressed now and get your ass inside and look at this!!” exhorted Lauren once more. Jack didn’t budge, he merely sighed as no doubt his comfort would be ruined because she’d found some rather ordinary house spider and believed it to be a Black Widow or something of the sort.
“For Christ’s sake Jack get up!!!” she hollered, now but a short distance away. Jack grumbled and sat up, he turned to look at her as she sprinted towards him for all she was worth. His eyes were still adjusting to the light as he reached down to fetch his clothes and get dressed.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Jack inquired.
“You have to come and see this Jack, it looks bad” was her terse reply, her voice tinged with just a hint of fear.
“Listen, what’s up?”
“I just, I can’t explain it. I don’t have the words… ”. Whatever it was it didn’t sound good. It was beginning to sound beyond spiders. And she wouldn’t be so shocked over a water leak or something like that. Maybe it was something on the news. Maybe someone shot Barack. Maybe another tower just got toasted somewhere or Iran just blew half of Israel off the face of the earth. Whatever it was, it had better not disturb breakfast.
Jack trawled along behind Lauren as she anxiously led the way, constantly berating him for a lack of effort and speed. He picked up into a gentle jog and before long they were in the kitchen. Lauren grabbed the remote for the telly and turned up the volume for CNN.
“So once again to recap for those just joining us, there are reports flooding in from across the country of seemingly mysterious and yet terrifying incidents where people who have presumably died are returning to life. It appears that the previously deceased persons are showing no signs of cognitive behaviour and do not respond to verbal commands or hand signals or body language. Uh, we’re being told more and more often now that it‘s almost as if they‘re zombies, for want of a better term. Citizens are advised to stay in their homes and not venture out for any purpose, so as to allow the police and other emergency services freedom of movement. So just to repeat that, please if you’re watching then stay inside and we’ll try and update you with more information as soon as we ourselves receive it. Uhh, I must stress that if you can, lock yourselves in securely as these, erm, ‘zombies’ have been reported to attack people, even those trying to aid them, and it would seem they’ve descended into a feral state”.
The sound of the TV seemed to slip into the background.
“Holy shit” spluttered Jack.
“See what I mean?” Lauren added. Jack propped himself on the counter top. He turned his head and noticed the open back door.
“Lauren, go check all the windows upstairs, make sure everything is shut up tight” Jack demanded. He slammed shut the back door and turned the latch to lock it, before crossing both the bolts top and bottom for added measure. He stormed from room to room, closing every window, locking them tight. He met Lauren again at the bottom of the stairs.
“Ok, sorry head back upstairs, in my room in my bedside cabinet, top draw, there’s my Walther and a box of ammo. Grab that and bring it back down here”. As Lauren turned to head back upstairs Jack went to the cupboard beneath them. From inside he withdrew a shotgun and a box of shells, plus two other boxes; one marked .40 S&W and the other marked .44 magnum, along with a small cardboard box into which he stuffed the ammo. He policed up the items and carried them to the kitchen table where he began to spread it all out. Laurens footsteps came thumping down the stairs and she dashed into the kitchen brandishing Jacks’ Walther PPS.
Jacks hands worked feverishly to load to the pump action shotgun. He worked the action to load a live round into the weapon.
“Ok, uhm, just bear with me while I load these up”. Lauren pulled up a chair and seated herself.
“Right you need to watch me as I do this, just so you know” he instructed her. Jack lifted up the PPS and showed her the magazine release catch. He talked her through the loading of the 8 round clip with .40 S&W rounds. He then loaded the gun and explained it’s functions. After a quick tutorial on pointing and shooting he then gave her a second empty clip and watched as she hand loaded it. He then removed a third empty clip and handed it over for filling while he took her instructions for a change, searching the kitchen for small Tupperware to hold the spare rounds. With the PPS clips loaded he reached into the box and pulled out a monster; a Ruger Super Redhawk. Its menacing 7 inch barrel in dark finish scared Lauren a little. Opening the box of .44 mag Jack again demonstrated the loading and operation in the briefest terms possible.
“All that’s left now is the Alaskan” Jack commented.
“Alaskan?”
“It’s a much shorter version of this” Jack clarified as he pointed at the Super Redhawk.
“If it’s good enough for bears, it should take down these… things”.
In the background the news was still airing on the telly.
“… and the latest reports indicate that there may be a connection between these ‘reanimations’ as they’re being called, and a swine flu vaccine that was issued just yesterday to a large number of medical facilities across the nation. Our health correspondent Jim Hathway has more.” The feed cuts to a mobile phone video showing pictures inside a hospital of a female ‘zombie’ stumbling along a hallway.
“These pictures captured on a cell phone by a paramedic in a New York hospital show a gruesome tale unfolding that has been repeated across the nation. The patient shown here was unresponsive to instructions given by staff and later attacked a member of the nursing staff. She was finally restrained by security, but not until after inflicting severe wounds on three members of staff via biting. It appears to a be a common trait among these so called ‘reanimated’, or as most people are referring to them, ‘zombies’. At first the cause was unknown and it was suspected of being a symptom caused by a variation of the disease, perhaps an advanced strain. But now medical practitioners are beginning to lend weight to a new theory, that these ‘reanimations’ are the result of botched vaccines released yesterday. Earlier I spoke on the phone to Nobel Prize winning chemist Dr. Charles Mendenhall, who had this to say”
“I think the vaccine issued yesterday may be responsible. I know that it’s partly comprised of cells taken from Leeches which would explain some of the regenerative properties and if we’re talking about patients who are dying either before the treatment has taken effect or just as it’s beginning to settle in then certainly there is the possibility of these cells that have been injected… uh, you know surviving on their own for a period of time and feeding directly from material in the patients bloodstream. My guess is that somehow the two are related but we wont know more until we can conduct proper tests”.
“And those tests are indeed being carried out all across the country right now and the data that’s being collected is being fed back to an emergency facility that’s been established in the hospital in South Carolina where Dr. Mendenhall works. Uhm, as for these vaccine’s or treatments, err whatever you want to call them, they’ve been spread all over the country as was mentioned earlier, literally every state bar Alaska and Hawaii has received significant numbers of the vaccine and it’s use has been widespread so the fear is that this new epidemic is already well entrenched around the nation as we speak and indeed some infected individuals who previously felt fine after being treated may have boarded flights leaving the country, and thus potentially turning this into a global problem. Uh, all flights out of the US have now been suspended, as have incoming flights. Internal flights are slowly being grounded but there are still some in the air as we speak.”
“Ok, thanks Jim. That was Jim Hathway reporting on the suspected cause of the disease. Right uh, we have pictures coming in now of violence that is erupting in many parts of the country as panic appears to be uh, settling in as it were in many places. We’ve had reports of looting and even some rioting and reportedly Police officers are being told to use deadly force in some circumstances in order to retain law and order. This really is starting to take a very serious turn now and… just, god help us all at the minute.”
Jack muted the telly. Images appeared on screen showing rioting in downtown Dallas. Lauren and Jack looked on in shock. Fumbling for her phone, Lauren began shaking. She nervously pressed the keys and tried to dial a number. The dialling tone was audible even to Jack. It rang and rang with no answer. Finally it cut.
“Your parents?” Jack asked. A nod confirmed his suspicion. Laurens parents lived fairly close to the area where the rioting was taking place. Jack considered the advice to stay at home. It was probably for the best. Hopefully it was what Laurens parents had done. Maybe they were busy watching the telly and just hadn’t heard the phone. Jack imagined that by now the roads into Dallas would be cordoned off. It there were confirmed cases and it was really this bad, there would be no way through. Jack looked across at Lauren as she re-dialled, a worried look on her face. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to try’ he thought.
“Back in a second” said Jack before disappearing off to grab a pair of gym bags. On his return to the kitchen he began to fill them up with food, mainly tinned. He rummaged in the cupboard under the stairs for a large torch to throw in as well. He added his first aid kit that he took to every show and the Tupperware ammo boxes. He emptied out the cartons of milk and orange juice, cleaning them out and topping them up with fresh water. All the while Lauren rang and rang, growing more distressed by the minute. There was a toolbox in the car, no need to worry about that. Matches!!!
“They’re dead aren’t they?” asked a tearful Lauren. Jack stopped and thought.
“Don’t say that. No, they’re… they’re probably at the supermarket. This time of day they’d be out and about. Probably holed up with some other people at Harold’s. And knowing Harold, he’s probably got more firepower behind the counter than I have. They’ll be fine. Have you tried your mother’s cell phone?”
“Off”. Somehow that word conveyed defeat, a sense that her parents were already gone.
“Well fuck it, we’re going to look for them. We’ll start at their house and then head to Harold’s, providing he doesn’t mistake me for a zombie and blow my head off”. Lauren burst into tears once more. Jack immediately regretted his choice of words and knelt down to comfort her.
“Your parents will be fine. So will we. So let’s go find them” he stated in a matter of fact, reassuring manner. Lauren nodded and as she composed herself Jack went to a drawer and retrieved two long kitchen knives.
“Just in case you need to cut yourself free or something, here”. They stowed the knives temporarily in a gym bag and prepared to leave. Jack passed the Walther PPS to Lauren.
“Now remember, don’t point it at anything you don’t intend to shoot, don’t shoot till I tell you, and aim for the forehead & hope all those zombie movies were right”. Jack wrapped the gun belt for the Super Redhawk round his waist, with spare .44 mag rounds in moon clips and the holster hanging down by his right thigh. It was about time he used this, it was custom made after all. Grabbing the shotgun and one bag, Lauren the other, he led the way outside, locking the door securely behind him and heading for the garage at the side.
As the garage door creaked upon, light streamed in and poured over the finely crafted form of Jacks silver Bentley Continental GT. Climbing in, they put one bag in Lauren’s foot well, the other on her lap, just in case. Jack propped the shogun between himself and the door. Popping the glove compartment open, Lauren withdrew the Redhawk Alaskan, a stubbier version of his Super Redhawk, which Jack checked for rounds, then placed in the cup holder. He fired up the 6 litre, twin turbocharged engine and slowly slipped out of the garage and onto the drive. The engine hummed maliciously as he cruised down the drive, the vehicle seemingly aware that it was about to be let loose on tarmac and asphalt. The car easily pulled out onto Barton Chapel Road West, and as Jack applied the throttle it roared off to the east towards Forth Worth and Dallas.
The roads were deserted. Even for this part of Texas it was eerily quiet. The Bentley’s engine produced the only sound for miles. Cruising along, neither occupant of the car spoke. In Laurens head she was playing out all the possible scenarios of what might have happened to her parents. In Jacks mind, he played out all the possible scenarios of what might happen trying to get to them. He imagined that by now there would be an almost total lock down in Fort Worth. They’d probably have to circle up then somehow find another way in. It could take all day. Jack applied more throttle, gradually cranking up the speed up past 90, past 100. It was a reasonably straight road and they were the only ones on it. Eventually they came to the junction with FM 4. Jack powered the Bentley first right then a short distance later left, turning on to Barton Chapel Road East, heading east. Just as he made the turn he noticed a few miles away down FM 4 what looked like the tip of a big rig. It struck him that this was the only other vehicle he’d seen so far. Somehow that made Jack feel worse. It started to remind him of the reality that this was a major incident, reaching out and affecting an entire nation. It chilled him a little.
As they cruised along Lauren looked up for the first time in nearly an hour.
“What’s that noise?”. Jack strained his ears but couldn’t hear a thing over the 6 litre beast in front. Maybe he’d taken one too many knocks around the lugholes. He eased back a little on the throttle. Now he could hear it.
“That kinda whining noise?” he inquired.
“Yeah, what is that?”. It was like an old kettle on a stove, whistling away.
“No idea. Maybe it’s something to do with the engine?” he offered. The noise was getting much louder now. As Jack shifted down a gear and eased off a little more, the noise just seemed to grow more intense. It was lurking at the same pitch but it’s volume and intensity surged. Jack checked his rear view mirror and saw nothing for a half mile behind where the road last rose up, following the contours of the land. His eyes darted across to his side mirror and there he caught a glimpse of something in the sky. Turning his head quickly he spotted a twin engined airliner coming in low, about three hundred feet.
“Back there, to the left, I think he’s on a landing approach.”
“This far out?” questioned Lauren. The whine began to turn into a roar as the aircraft’s engines drew closer, blasting out hot gases. Jack checked the mirror but couldn’t see the plane. He darted his head round to the left to catch another look at it, as it passed threw his blind spot. The plane was tilting to the right slightly as it drew level with the car, storming along at great speed. Then, without warning, it banked over sharply towards the road and swooped in like a bird of prey.
The aircraft made a terrible screech, as did the brakes on the Bentley as Jack desperately tried to halt the car. The plane came in, right wing down and sliced the ground at tremendous speed. The wingtip hit first. The whole right wing sheared to pieces and began to explode as the rest of the aircraft ploughed into the ground sideways. A huge fireball erupted and consumed the entire scene, just a few hundred feet down the road from where the car had stopped. The heat of the intense fire carried to them. There was sickening sound as the metal frame of the airliner was wrenched to pieces. Jack noticed a flaming off shoot. Observing it more intently it appeared to be a pair of seats, with occupants, careening through the sky in a bright ball of fire, like a rogue shooting star. Jack was speechless, Lauren threw up over the bag in her lap. The big engine of the car spluttered and stalled. The pair sat motionless, slightly breathless. In front of them a sea of flames burned away. The sky was filled with dark fumes. Finally Jack mustered up some spare air to speak.
“Holy shit”.
The heat and fear had induced a heavy sweat from both companions. Lauren reached out to touch the glass of the windscreen that had been mildly warped in the middle. Silence reigned supreme. Neither of them heard the sound of the big rig approaching from behind, that shunted them violently, smashing the rear windscreen. The Bentley began to roll towards the river of aviation fuelled fire, powered by the engine of the large rig behind them, slowly forcing them closer to death. Jack desperately grabbed for the ignition and tried to start the car. He’d left it in gear but in the adrenaline surge of the moment didn’t notice. The engine failed to respond as Lauren screamed at Jack to move them. Finally he grabbed the handbrake and with a shout of “hold on”, pulled the lever up and spun the wheel to the left. The cars brakes struggled to grip the wheels in place against the push from the rear. Rubber burned as the rig forced them onwards. And finally the front of the Bentley began to slip left, developing quickly into a violent 90 degree spin, before the car slammed sideways against the rigs front, which merely brushed aside the back end of the vehicle. Jack and Lauren watched as the rig and it’s trailer carried on down the road. Behind it, hanging on by one hand, they saw a body being dragged along. As the rig rumbled over a piece of debris the body got caught and came loose. The rig meanwhile continued to roll on, unstoppable as it bobbled over more small pieces of wreckage and disappeared into the inferno. It just lay there. As the fire from the debris began to spread, the body jiggled, rolled over onto its back, then sat up.
“What the fuck?”
The flaming corpse now let out a chilling scream. Arms waved but it made no attempt to roll about or otherwise douse the flames. It just sat their, upright in the road, slowly cremating. Both Jack and Lauren turned away in disgust. There was silence again. Tears rolled from Laurens eyes. Jack wiped the sweat from his face and tried to compose himself. He turned to his companion and once more comforted her. He thought of her parents and what fate had befallen them. He thought of his own mother, father, and two sisters back in little Brightlingsea, England, and whether this virus had indeed spread there to.
“Jesus”. It would take something more than divine intervention to help them now. As Lauren held to Jack for dear life she moved her head to rest it on his shoulder. Her eyes drifted out of his side window and across the grass. As she gripped him tightly there was a slight rustle. Then she recoiled in shock. The window was filled with the hideous face of a man, his eyes white over, his skin dirty and peeling. Small veins and other blood vessels in his head stood out. Jack turned abruptly and matched his partners shock at the sight. The face pressed against the window, saliva drooling from its mouth, its yellow and black teeth bared angrily, gnawing away at the glass. Its complexion was pale, like an emaciated child. Jacks hand dived for the cup holder and gripped firmly around the handle of the Ruger Alaskan. He drew the weapon up, using his thumb to claw back the hammer. As the Zombie scratched and clawed at the window with it’s hands and teeth, Jack levelled the barrel at its forehead. He pulled the trigger and the gun blasted into life, hurling out a .44 inch piece of flat lead; through glass, flesh, bone and brain at around 1000 feet per second.
The zombie recoiled violently, a sizable hole now in it’s forehead. Jack sat up and peered through the hole in his window at the dead body.
“And stay down” he shouted. The shatter proof glass had done it’s trick but it was gonna be a windy drive. Jack checked on Lauren.
“You ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine” she replied, still shaking and sweating. She was pale through fear. She might have been in the Navy, but as a cook she’d probably seen nothing even close to this.
“It’s ok” he tried to reassure her, “it’s over now”. Jack went to place the gun back in the cup holder but stopped. The weapon hovered briefly, then instead he placed it in his lap.
“Let’s just get the fuck out of here, huh?”. There was no response. He shoved the stick into neutral and started the car, hoping that the damage done by the rig would be purely cosmetic. With the road now blocked by a burning airliner he had no choice but to head back to FM 4. As they drove off Jack heard the dull echo of a bang, probably the rigs fuel tank finally buckling and exploding. As he pulled up at the junction Jack looked left. That’s where the rig had come from. Whatever it was he had just shot back there, there was probably more of them down south in Graford.
“Fuck that” he said, as he hauled the wheel round to the right and headed north, for Jacksboro. There was silence as they cruised along the way. Jack continually looked across, but Lauren just stared blankly forwards at the road ahead. The wind caused by drag was being sucked into the hole in Jacks window, blowing right into his ear. But he dared not wind it down. He knew there was nothing out there… but just in case.
After what seemed like an age they saw signs for Jacksboro, they were close. Within minutes they were on the outskirts but as the road wound round to the right Jack noticed something odd. Two vehicles, a red pickup and a yellow Chevrolet Cobalt were parked sideways blocking the road. Behind them stood a firing line of men armed with an assortment of M-16s, hunting rifles and shotguns. As Jack slowed and shifted down one man stood and raised his palm to indicate a stop. Jack eased the Bentley to a rest. He turned off the engine and let his right hand slide down into his lap. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the Alaskan once more and his thumb gripped the tip of the hammer. He pulled it back and cocked the weapon...
Jack Bull lay quietly, his head resting on his folded right arm, his left arm wrapped around Lauren as she laid her cheek against his chest. Covered in a thin woollen blanket they rested. The previous night they had talked, they had laughed, they had glanced, and finally they confessed. Their confession led to an embrace and now hours later, they shared their first morning together. Jack watched as the wispy remnants of condensation trails drifted casually across the sky. He gently stroked the arm of his new beloved and dreamed of days in the sun together. He thought of all the time they had been but employer and employee, all the while harbouring the same thoughts of each other, both too afraid to break a trusted and happy friendship for the risk of saying “I love you”. And now what days lay ahead of them? Mornings and afternoons, evenings and nights. All spent aside each other, together, in perfect harmony. Today marked a fresh new beginning and that excited Jack.
All around them the grass leaned and swayed ever so slightly, submitting to the slightest aggressive intent of the wind, before recoiling defiantly after it passed. Birds chirped as they went about their morning routines. Somewhere in the adjacent field a grasshopper clicked and buzzed a message, discernable only to his kind. And way off in the distance a faint pop. Almost like a distant gunshot. Jack thought nothing more of it as he sleepily settled back. A few minutes later another muffled crack carried its way out to where Jack lay. A sirens wale just barely reached out across the open ground and tickled Jacks eardrum a fraction. He ignored the sounds of possible misfortune for someone distant. Instead he merely pulled Lauren in a little tighter and allowed sleep to draw it’s comforting blanket over him.
*******
“Jack get up!!”. Laurens voiced pierced through the still air.
“Jack for gods sake wake up!” she screamed as she rushed towards him. Jacks eyes slowly crept open and he took in the beautiful blue above him. He shifted on the lounger in a bid to achieve perfect comfort.
“C’mon Jack get dressed now and get your ass inside and look at this!!” exhorted Lauren once more. Jack didn’t budge, he merely sighed as no doubt his comfort would be ruined because she’d found some rather ordinary house spider and believed it to be a Black Widow or something of the sort.
“For Christ’s sake Jack get up!!!” she hollered, now but a short distance away. Jack grumbled and sat up, he turned to look at her as she sprinted towards him for all she was worth. His eyes were still adjusting to the light as he reached down to fetch his clothes and get dressed.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Jack inquired.
“You have to come and see this Jack, it looks bad” was her terse reply, her voice tinged with just a hint of fear.
“Listen, what’s up?”
“I just, I can’t explain it. I don’t have the words… ”. Whatever it was it didn’t sound good. It was beginning to sound beyond spiders. And she wouldn’t be so shocked over a water leak or something like that. Maybe it was something on the news. Maybe someone shot Barack. Maybe another tower just got toasted somewhere or Iran just blew half of Israel off the face of the earth. Whatever it was, it had better not disturb breakfast.
Jack trawled along behind Lauren as she anxiously led the way, constantly berating him for a lack of effort and speed. He picked up into a gentle jog and before long they were in the kitchen. Lauren grabbed the remote for the telly and turned up the volume for CNN.
“So once again to recap for those just joining us, there are reports flooding in from across the country of seemingly mysterious and yet terrifying incidents where people who have presumably died are returning to life. It appears that the previously deceased persons are showing no signs of cognitive behaviour and do not respond to verbal commands or hand signals or body language. Uh, we’re being told more and more often now that it‘s almost as if they‘re zombies, for want of a better term. Citizens are advised to stay in their homes and not venture out for any purpose, so as to allow the police and other emergency services freedom of movement. So just to repeat that, please if you’re watching then stay inside and we’ll try and update you with more information as soon as we ourselves receive it. Uhh, I must stress that if you can, lock yourselves in securely as these, erm, ‘zombies’ have been reported to attack people, even those trying to aid them, and it would seem they’ve descended into a feral state”.
The sound of the TV seemed to slip into the background.
“Holy shit” spluttered Jack.
“See what I mean?” Lauren added. Jack propped himself on the counter top. He turned his head and noticed the open back door.
“Lauren, go check all the windows upstairs, make sure everything is shut up tight” Jack demanded. He slammed shut the back door and turned the latch to lock it, before crossing both the bolts top and bottom for added measure. He stormed from room to room, closing every window, locking them tight. He met Lauren again at the bottom of the stairs.
“Ok, sorry head back upstairs, in my room in my bedside cabinet, top draw, there’s my Walther and a box of ammo. Grab that and bring it back down here”. As Lauren turned to head back upstairs Jack went to the cupboard beneath them. From inside he withdrew a shotgun and a box of shells, plus two other boxes; one marked .40 S&W and the other marked .44 magnum, along with a small cardboard box into which he stuffed the ammo. He policed up the items and carried them to the kitchen table where he began to spread it all out. Laurens footsteps came thumping down the stairs and she dashed into the kitchen brandishing Jacks’ Walther PPS.
Jacks hands worked feverishly to load to the pump action shotgun. He worked the action to load a live round into the weapon.
“Ok, uhm, just bear with me while I load these up”. Lauren pulled up a chair and seated herself.
“Right you need to watch me as I do this, just so you know” he instructed her. Jack lifted up the PPS and showed her the magazine release catch. He talked her through the loading of the 8 round clip with .40 S&W rounds. He then loaded the gun and explained it’s functions. After a quick tutorial on pointing and shooting he then gave her a second empty clip and watched as she hand loaded it. He then removed a third empty clip and handed it over for filling while he took her instructions for a change, searching the kitchen for small Tupperware to hold the spare rounds. With the PPS clips loaded he reached into the box and pulled out a monster; a Ruger Super Redhawk. Its menacing 7 inch barrel in dark finish scared Lauren a little. Opening the box of .44 mag Jack again demonstrated the loading and operation in the briefest terms possible.
“All that’s left now is the Alaskan” Jack commented.
“Alaskan?”
“It’s a much shorter version of this” Jack clarified as he pointed at the Super Redhawk.
“If it’s good enough for bears, it should take down these… things”.
In the background the news was still airing on the telly.
“… and the latest reports indicate that there may be a connection between these ‘reanimations’ as they’re being called, and a swine flu vaccine that was issued just yesterday to a large number of medical facilities across the nation. Our health correspondent Jim Hathway has more.” The feed cuts to a mobile phone video showing pictures inside a hospital of a female ‘zombie’ stumbling along a hallway.
“These pictures captured on a cell phone by a paramedic in a New York hospital show a gruesome tale unfolding that has been repeated across the nation. The patient shown here was unresponsive to instructions given by staff and later attacked a member of the nursing staff. She was finally restrained by security, but not until after inflicting severe wounds on three members of staff via biting. It appears to a be a common trait among these so called ‘reanimated’, or as most people are referring to them, ‘zombies’. At first the cause was unknown and it was suspected of being a symptom caused by a variation of the disease, perhaps an advanced strain. But now medical practitioners are beginning to lend weight to a new theory, that these ‘reanimations’ are the result of botched vaccines released yesterday. Earlier I spoke on the phone to Nobel Prize winning chemist Dr. Charles Mendenhall, who had this to say”
“I think the vaccine issued yesterday may be responsible. I know that it’s partly comprised of cells taken from Leeches which would explain some of the regenerative properties and if we’re talking about patients who are dying either before the treatment has taken effect or just as it’s beginning to settle in then certainly there is the possibility of these cells that have been injected… uh, you know surviving on their own for a period of time and feeding directly from material in the patients bloodstream. My guess is that somehow the two are related but we wont know more until we can conduct proper tests”.
“And those tests are indeed being carried out all across the country right now and the data that’s being collected is being fed back to an emergency facility that’s been established in the hospital in South Carolina where Dr. Mendenhall works. Uhm, as for these vaccine’s or treatments, err whatever you want to call them, they’ve been spread all over the country as was mentioned earlier, literally every state bar Alaska and Hawaii has received significant numbers of the vaccine and it’s use has been widespread so the fear is that this new epidemic is already well entrenched around the nation as we speak and indeed some infected individuals who previously felt fine after being treated may have boarded flights leaving the country, and thus potentially turning this into a global problem. Uh, all flights out of the US have now been suspended, as have incoming flights. Internal flights are slowly being grounded but there are still some in the air as we speak.”
“Ok, thanks Jim. That was Jim Hathway reporting on the suspected cause of the disease. Right uh, we have pictures coming in now of violence that is erupting in many parts of the country as panic appears to be uh, settling in as it were in many places. We’ve had reports of looting and even some rioting and reportedly Police officers are being told to use deadly force in some circumstances in order to retain law and order. This really is starting to take a very serious turn now and… just, god help us all at the minute.”
Jack muted the telly. Images appeared on screen showing rioting in downtown Dallas. Lauren and Jack looked on in shock. Fumbling for her phone, Lauren began shaking. She nervously pressed the keys and tried to dial a number. The dialling tone was audible even to Jack. It rang and rang with no answer. Finally it cut.
“Your parents?” Jack asked. A nod confirmed his suspicion. Laurens parents lived fairly close to the area where the rioting was taking place. Jack considered the advice to stay at home. It was probably for the best. Hopefully it was what Laurens parents had done. Maybe they were busy watching the telly and just hadn’t heard the phone. Jack imagined that by now the roads into Dallas would be cordoned off. It there were confirmed cases and it was really this bad, there would be no way through. Jack looked across at Lauren as she re-dialled, a worried look on her face. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to try’ he thought.
“Back in a second” said Jack before disappearing off to grab a pair of gym bags. On his return to the kitchen he began to fill them up with food, mainly tinned. He rummaged in the cupboard under the stairs for a large torch to throw in as well. He added his first aid kit that he took to every show and the Tupperware ammo boxes. He emptied out the cartons of milk and orange juice, cleaning them out and topping them up with fresh water. All the while Lauren rang and rang, growing more distressed by the minute. There was a toolbox in the car, no need to worry about that. Matches!!!
“They’re dead aren’t they?” asked a tearful Lauren. Jack stopped and thought.
“Don’t say that. No, they’re… they’re probably at the supermarket. This time of day they’d be out and about. Probably holed up with some other people at Harold’s. And knowing Harold, he’s probably got more firepower behind the counter than I have. They’ll be fine. Have you tried your mother’s cell phone?”
“Off”. Somehow that word conveyed defeat, a sense that her parents were already gone.
“Well fuck it, we’re going to look for them. We’ll start at their house and then head to Harold’s, providing he doesn’t mistake me for a zombie and blow my head off”. Lauren burst into tears once more. Jack immediately regretted his choice of words and knelt down to comfort her.
“Your parents will be fine. So will we. So let’s go find them” he stated in a matter of fact, reassuring manner. Lauren nodded and as she composed herself Jack went to a drawer and retrieved two long kitchen knives.
“Just in case you need to cut yourself free or something, here”. They stowed the knives temporarily in a gym bag and prepared to leave. Jack passed the Walther PPS to Lauren.
“Now remember, don’t point it at anything you don’t intend to shoot, don’t shoot till I tell you, and aim for the forehead & hope all those zombie movies were right”. Jack wrapped the gun belt for the Super Redhawk round his waist, with spare .44 mag rounds in moon clips and the holster hanging down by his right thigh. It was about time he used this, it was custom made after all. Grabbing the shotgun and one bag, Lauren the other, he led the way outside, locking the door securely behind him and heading for the garage at the side.
As the garage door creaked upon, light streamed in and poured over the finely crafted form of Jacks silver Bentley Continental GT. Climbing in, they put one bag in Lauren’s foot well, the other on her lap, just in case. Jack propped the shogun between himself and the door. Popping the glove compartment open, Lauren withdrew the Redhawk Alaskan, a stubbier version of his Super Redhawk, which Jack checked for rounds, then placed in the cup holder. He fired up the 6 litre, twin turbocharged engine and slowly slipped out of the garage and onto the drive. The engine hummed maliciously as he cruised down the drive, the vehicle seemingly aware that it was about to be let loose on tarmac and asphalt. The car easily pulled out onto Barton Chapel Road West, and as Jack applied the throttle it roared off to the east towards Forth Worth and Dallas.
The roads were deserted. Even for this part of Texas it was eerily quiet. The Bentley’s engine produced the only sound for miles. Cruising along, neither occupant of the car spoke. In Laurens head she was playing out all the possible scenarios of what might have happened to her parents. In Jacks mind, he played out all the possible scenarios of what might happen trying to get to them. He imagined that by now there would be an almost total lock down in Fort Worth. They’d probably have to circle up then somehow find another way in. It could take all day. Jack applied more throttle, gradually cranking up the speed up past 90, past 100. It was a reasonably straight road and they were the only ones on it. Eventually they came to the junction with FM 4. Jack powered the Bentley first right then a short distance later left, turning on to Barton Chapel Road East, heading east. Just as he made the turn he noticed a few miles away down FM 4 what looked like the tip of a big rig. It struck him that this was the only other vehicle he’d seen so far. Somehow that made Jack feel worse. It started to remind him of the reality that this was a major incident, reaching out and affecting an entire nation. It chilled him a little.
As they cruised along Lauren looked up for the first time in nearly an hour.
“What’s that noise?”. Jack strained his ears but couldn’t hear a thing over the 6 litre beast in front. Maybe he’d taken one too many knocks around the lugholes. He eased back a little on the throttle. Now he could hear it.
“That kinda whining noise?” he inquired.
“Yeah, what is that?”. It was like an old kettle on a stove, whistling away.
“No idea. Maybe it’s something to do with the engine?” he offered. The noise was getting much louder now. As Jack shifted down a gear and eased off a little more, the noise just seemed to grow more intense. It was lurking at the same pitch but it’s volume and intensity surged. Jack checked his rear view mirror and saw nothing for a half mile behind where the road last rose up, following the contours of the land. His eyes darted across to his side mirror and there he caught a glimpse of something in the sky. Turning his head quickly he spotted a twin engined airliner coming in low, about three hundred feet.
“Back there, to the left, I think he’s on a landing approach.”
“This far out?” questioned Lauren. The whine began to turn into a roar as the aircraft’s engines drew closer, blasting out hot gases. Jack checked the mirror but couldn’t see the plane. He darted his head round to the left to catch another look at it, as it passed threw his blind spot. The plane was tilting to the right slightly as it drew level with the car, storming along at great speed. Then, without warning, it banked over sharply towards the road and swooped in like a bird of prey.
The aircraft made a terrible screech, as did the brakes on the Bentley as Jack desperately tried to halt the car. The plane came in, right wing down and sliced the ground at tremendous speed. The wingtip hit first. The whole right wing sheared to pieces and began to explode as the rest of the aircraft ploughed into the ground sideways. A huge fireball erupted and consumed the entire scene, just a few hundred feet down the road from where the car had stopped. The heat of the intense fire carried to them. There was sickening sound as the metal frame of the airliner was wrenched to pieces. Jack noticed a flaming off shoot. Observing it more intently it appeared to be a pair of seats, with occupants, careening through the sky in a bright ball of fire, like a rogue shooting star. Jack was speechless, Lauren threw up over the bag in her lap. The big engine of the car spluttered and stalled. The pair sat motionless, slightly breathless. In front of them a sea of flames burned away. The sky was filled with dark fumes. Finally Jack mustered up some spare air to speak.
“Holy shit”.
The heat and fear had induced a heavy sweat from both companions. Lauren reached out to touch the glass of the windscreen that had been mildly warped in the middle. Silence reigned supreme. Neither of them heard the sound of the big rig approaching from behind, that shunted them violently, smashing the rear windscreen. The Bentley began to roll towards the river of aviation fuelled fire, powered by the engine of the large rig behind them, slowly forcing them closer to death. Jack desperately grabbed for the ignition and tried to start the car. He’d left it in gear but in the adrenaline surge of the moment didn’t notice. The engine failed to respond as Lauren screamed at Jack to move them. Finally he grabbed the handbrake and with a shout of “hold on”, pulled the lever up and spun the wheel to the left. The cars brakes struggled to grip the wheels in place against the push from the rear. Rubber burned as the rig forced them onwards. And finally the front of the Bentley began to slip left, developing quickly into a violent 90 degree spin, before the car slammed sideways against the rigs front, which merely brushed aside the back end of the vehicle. Jack and Lauren watched as the rig and it’s trailer carried on down the road. Behind it, hanging on by one hand, they saw a body being dragged along. As the rig rumbled over a piece of debris the body got caught and came loose. The rig meanwhile continued to roll on, unstoppable as it bobbled over more small pieces of wreckage and disappeared into the inferno. It just lay there. As the fire from the debris began to spread, the body jiggled, rolled over onto its back, then sat up.
“What the fuck?”
The flaming corpse now let out a chilling scream. Arms waved but it made no attempt to roll about or otherwise douse the flames. It just sat their, upright in the road, slowly cremating. Both Jack and Lauren turned away in disgust. There was silence again. Tears rolled from Laurens eyes. Jack wiped the sweat from his face and tried to compose himself. He turned to his companion and once more comforted her. He thought of her parents and what fate had befallen them. He thought of his own mother, father, and two sisters back in little Brightlingsea, England, and whether this virus had indeed spread there to.
“Jesus”. It would take something more than divine intervention to help them now. As Lauren held to Jack for dear life she moved her head to rest it on his shoulder. Her eyes drifted out of his side window and across the grass. As she gripped him tightly there was a slight rustle. Then she recoiled in shock. The window was filled with the hideous face of a man, his eyes white over, his skin dirty and peeling. Small veins and other blood vessels in his head stood out. Jack turned abruptly and matched his partners shock at the sight. The face pressed against the window, saliva drooling from its mouth, its yellow and black teeth bared angrily, gnawing away at the glass. Its complexion was pale, like an emaciated child. Jacks hand dived for the cup holder and gripped firmly around the handle of the Ruger Alaskan. He drew the weapon up, using his thumb to claw back the hammer. As the Zombie scratched and clawed at the window with it’s hands and teeth, Jack levelled the barrel at its forehead. He pulled the trigger and the gun blasted into life, hurling out a .44 inch piece of flat lead; through glass, flesh, bone and brain at around 1000 feet per second.
The zombie recoiled violently, a sizable hole now in it’s forehead. Jack sat up and peered through the hole in his window at the dead body.
“And stay down” he shouted. The shatter proof glass had done it’s trick but it was gonna be a windy drive. Jack checked on Lauren.
“You ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine” she replied, still shaking and sweating. She was pale through fear. She might have been in the Navy, but as a cook she’d probably seen nothing even close to this.
“It’s ok” he tried to reassure her, “it’s over now”. Jack went to place the gun back in the cup holder but stopped. The weapon hovered briefly, then instead he placed it in his lap.
“Let’s just get the fuck out of here, huh?”. There was no response. He shoved the stick into neutral and started the car, hoping that the damage done by the rig would be purely cosmetic. With the road now blocked by a burning airliner he had no choice but to head back to FM 4. As they drove off Jack heard the dull echo of a bang, probably the rigs fuel tank finally buckling and exploding. As he pulled up at the junction Jack looked left. That’s where the rig had come from. Whatever it was he had just shot back there, there was probably more of them down south in Graford.
“Fuck that” he said, as he hauled the wheel round to the right and headed north, for Jacksboro. There was silence as they cruised along the way. Jack continually looked across, but Lauren just stared blankly forwards at the road ahead. The wind caused by drag was being sucked into the hole in Jacks window, blowing right into his ear. But he dared not wind it down. He knew there was nothing out there… but just in case.
After what seemed like an age they saw signs for Jacksboro, they were close. Within minutes they were on the outskirts but as the road wound round to the right Jack noticed something odd. Two vehicles, a red pickup and a yellow Chevrolet Cobalt were parked sideways blocking the road. Behind them stood a firing line of men armed with an assortment of M-16s, hunting rifles and shotguns. As Jack slowed and shifted down one man stood and raised his palm to indicate a stop. Jack eased the Bentley to a rest. He turned off the engine and let his right hand slide down into his lap. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the Alaskan once more and his thumb gripped the tip of the hammer. He pulled it back and cocked the weapon...