Act 1: No Safe Bets
Chapter 1: To Be, Or Not To Be
I tossed my duffel bag down as I entered my house. Taking a good look around, I went into the kitchen. "Anybody home?" Opening the fridge I took out some sandwich fixings, setting them on the counter. Turning I went to grab the bread, my dad stood just before me, scarring the hell out of me. "Damn! Say something. Common knowledge too say something when entering a room." My heart was pounding away as I reached for the bread. He just stood there watching me, I shook my head at him. "Fine, don't talk."
Turning I set the bag of sliced bread down. "So what's the deal with you? You mad at me or something?" I said as I pulled out two slices setting them down, he groaned lightly. I looked at him square, curly blond hair, he was in his good 50's, I am built just like him, side the fact I was over a foot taller then him. We both were thinly built, but do to my African mother, and her side of the family, I towered over most at 6' 7". "If this is about me going to collage, I said I would take a few classes."
It sounded like a choke escaped him. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my sandwich. "Don't have to scoff." I opened the mayonnaise jar, and walked over grabbing a knife from the dishwasher just as I heard a bang. Whipping around my father was on the floor bleeding from the head. Blood splattered the counter and soaked into the bread. "Holy shit, Dad?" I rushed over, rolling him over onto his back. His face was covered in his own blood, his eyes were sunk in, but he was breathing. That was good, his hand went to my arm as I got under his arm, lifting him to his feet. "What the hell happened?"
He groaned again, his mouth went wide and his tongue fell out of his mouth. Abruptly he rushed me pinning me to the ground. "Dad?! What is wrong with you?" His tongue had boils on them. "What the hell is going on with you? Say some…" He bit me on my left shoulder, and I let out a scream of pain. I grabbed his hair and flung him off me, my hand instinctively went to my shoulder. Rolling I got to my feet, panting heavily putting my back to the counter, I jumped over him as he went to grab my leg. I ran towards the steps digging in my pockets for my keys. Turning the corner I was face to face with my girlfriend, she looked pale.
"Carla?" I took a step back as she looked right through me. Her mouth started to gape as she let out small growls. "Carla, what are you doing here?" I tried again, there was no response from her. My eyes darted over her, and her arm had a huge gash in it. Blood was dripping from it like a river. I backed up slowly, something was going on, a very bad thing. Looking to the kitchen, my dad slowly came out, he walked right over to Carla bumping into her. They didn't move, I stayed silent watching them. Studying them I tried to keep my breathing soft, despite how scared I felt. As I backed up my back hit one of the cabinets, I knocked over a glass bowl, landing on the carpet floor it rolled off.
Looking down at the bowl, then back at the two, they let out an inhuman screech. I covered my ears and back peddled some more. "Son of bitch, stop yelling!" They did, doubt it was because of me, however they took a step towards me. I took off into a run, in my panic I tripped over the coffee table landing hard skinning my elbow on the carpet. I figure I was dead now, but when I looked back at the two, they were still slowly walking towards me. "Glad it's like the old movies," I said softly. "Slow moving zombies are better then fast ones."
I picked myself up, and ran past them up the steps, Carla grabbed my shirt and I twisted out of it. Grateful it was a second button up shirt I let hang free. Quickly I made my way to my dads' room, pulling out my keys I unlocked the gun case. Taking out a box of 9mm rounds I quickly loaded a clip, I shoved it in the Glock, and cocked it. I then grabbed my grandfathers' old double barrel shotgun. Taking up the 12 gage shells, flipped open then gun, and loaded it with a fierce whip and a click, I took them both off the safety. I tucked the Glock in my waist band, pointed the shotgun and moved back to the door.
I half expected to turn right into them, but when I looked over the railing they had yet to even move. "Well that's surprising." As soon as I said that they both made there way towards me, well, sort of. They ran into the wall after a slow walk. "Are they stupid, or blind?" They clawed at the wall stretching up towards me. They were digging there nails in the drywall so hard they began to leave blood and flesh behind, there nails were getting ripped off. They definitely weren't sane, or perhaps not human anymore.
Pointing the gun down at them, I let the two shells fly spraying them with buck shot. I watched as the pellets ripped into there skin, and shatter there skulls. They dropped like rocks as I pulled the gun back. "Death from above? Always wondered what that meant."
Now I knew from any good zombie story, arming up is first, guns and information. So I went back to the gun case, I took out a sidearm holster, strapping it on my right leg, sheathing the pistol. I loaded up three more clips stuck them in my belt, then picked up my dads AR-15. Loaded that bad boy up with a fresh clip, and two spares for later. Turned and walked back to the steps, I reached my duffel bag empting it of its contents, I threw in the spare clips to the AR-15. Picking up the bag and turning, shock filled me, only to be faced with Carla. She screamed like a banshee, I fell back and fumbled for my pistol.
"Damn it!" I screamed to the universe as Carla's half exploded head dripped the gray matter on the floor. "Who the hell changed the rules of zombie killing?" She rushed at me biting down on my left forearm, with my right I fired off four shots in her chest. She slumped on me as the rest of her brain fell out onto my chest. Letting my head drop back my mind went blank, then panic set in, if she got back up? I raised my pistol, it shook in my grip, then my father slumped lower leaving a blood trail on the wall. Sighing, I sat up and pushed Carla off of me, as well the brain matter. Rolling away from her I took two steps for the kitchen, then it all hit me at once. I threw up my frustration, gagging all the contents of my stomach came rushing out. I dry heaved for several minutes.
"Water." I said making my way to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass I went by the sink turning on the tap, I drank three cups before my gut settled down. I sighed and looked at my cloths, blood soaked them, I felt like I took a bath in the stuff. "Shower and change," I looked at my arm, then felt my neck. "Shower, change, treat the wounds, then see if I become a zombie, what a great day."
So that's what I did, cleaned up and put on new cloths. Before I went in the shower I covered both my fathers' body, and my girlfriends' with a sheet. I came downstairs and headed back to the kitchen taking in hand an apple, leaning against the fridge looking to the backyard, I took a thoughtful bite. "News." I said softly.
So I turned on the TV and flipped through the stations. It wasn't exactly hard to find someone reporting.
"We urge everyone to stay in doors, if you don't have to travel, don't. Currently what is know is that shooting them in the head doesn't seem as affective as shooting them in the chest." The anchorman said. "Do not open your doors for anyone. Not for friends or family. This sickness spreads quickly, within about ten to thirty minutes for one to become fully infected, or show signs of infection. Signs of infection are clear, boils on the face, sluggish movement, none responsive. Of cores, there is the clear…" He got tackled right into his anchors desk as a pair of teeth came down on his neck. The boiled covered female dug her teeth into his neck, pulling back she tore at the flesh and chewed away, I wasn't sure but I think she smiled.
"Hmm, so ten to thirty minutes for the change? That sucks." Feeling my neck I could have ended up just like that anchorman. Shuddering I tossed the finished apple to the floor. I stood up, grabbed my duffel bag that was still sitting by the front door. Picking it up along with the rifle I started raiding the kitchen of food, and bottled water. Then I took all the extra ammunition from the gun case, heading back down stairs I sat in the living room. I set the duffel bag down by my feet just as someone bumped into the glass sliding door that lead to the backyard. I froze, it was one of my neighbors, she was walking into the door like she couldn't see or feel it. She had the tall tail signs she was infected.
"Well this sucks," I sat back with a sigh. "She was cute." I watched as her breath fogged up the glass. Quietly I walked over to the door wondering how she got in the backyard. Boils covered her face like a pizza pie, the puss flowed out some that broke the skin. I moved a bit to the left and right, there was no reaction. Wonder what was going through her head, and I think there blind. Snapping a finger she pushed against the glass harder. Huh, sound attracts them, but they can't see, so I guess I will have to be stealthy when I get out of here. "How are you doing there neighbor? Been a hell of a day for you, heck you look dead on your feet." I said putting my palm on the glass.
She quickly slammed her hands against it and made me jump back. "Son of!" She snarled as her tongue licked the glass where my palm was. "You go to be shitting me?" I placed my palm in a different place on the glass and she had the same reaction. "Well that's not good. Heat seeking zombies, that seems so unfair. Don't you think neighbor? Well, soon I probably will be joining you. This has been one short zombie story for me."
Hissing wildly and clawing at the glass, she shrieked, I think she's angry. I am not liking this at all, if these things got feelings they could have some measure of intelligence. That is one scary thought. I looked at my watch, it's been twenty minutes, ten more minutes till I join her. Opening my phone I had no cell signal, and the land line was dead as well. Wanted to make a call so I could tell my mom and brother to stay away from the house, but I guess I could leave a note.
Made it a simple note, "infection stay away" seems the best, I didn't need a long drawn out note they may want to read on the doorstep. After a quick moment of jotting down my small, and very clever note, I peaked out the peephole. "All clear." I said as I opened the door, I quickly taped it and slowly and quietly went to shut the door. Though I did take a good look around, things were rather, well for the world going to hell, my neighborhood looked not so different.
Well side the screeching of wheels, and that red corvette smashing into the house across the street. Oh, yes, and the people being eaten by a small gang of children. Then there are those two zombies stumbling my way, now running towards me screeching. I quickly shut the door, locking it I was wide eyed as they ran full force into the door.
"What the hell changed?" I looked out the peephole again, and they were walking away. "They sure gave up quick." My heart was pounding, and my mouth was dry. The handle of my gun felt comforting, I knew I had to get out of here though. Had to see if I could get to my mom. That meant getting to my dads truck. The best way to do that is the loft, it leads to the roof, right above the truck. But first I had to fully arm up, I doubt I would be back this way.
I ran upstairs and grabbed a spare backpack from my room, after that it was back to the gun case. Grabbing the .22, 222, and my dads' automatic shotgun. I filled the bag up with as much ammunition as it would hold. Took four belts from his closet, used three belts wrapping all three guns together, I threw the fourth over my shoulder. Picking up the stack of guns and the bag and got downstairs where the duffel bag waited with my AR. My neighbor was now gone, probably got bored of waiting, or found something ells she could sink her teeth into.
I grab all the gear, and shot back upstairs into the loft. Looking out the window I got a better view of part of the city, smoke filled the sky, military planes and choppers were scrambling in the air, most likely from the air base. I whistled low. "Now this I don't think is good."
Opening the window I set the duffel bag on the roof as quietly as humanly possible, followed by the stack of guns, and the backpack. I grabbed a sword I got at the renascence fair last year, I plucked it out of the corner setting it with the other stuff. I jumped when I heard a little kid yell, I looked up to see his own mother devouring him alive. "Poor kid."
I turned back to my work, can't get emotional now. Going back in my room which was messy as all hell, I had a passing thought I would need to clean. On the other hand I won't be back here again. Grabbing my portable speakers I used when I went camping, opening the case I punched holes in the plastic cover with a survival knife. Sheathing the knife I hooked it to my belt. Back in the loft I grabbed my MP3 player turned it on hooking them to the speakers, closing the case after.
Climbing out the window I took in the sights. There were dozens of them, all of them my neighbors. I gave a small prayer to any god or goddess that would listen. I then turned up the speakers and the MP3 full blast, then turned it on and chucked it as hard as I could across the street. Shrieks from the zombies were heard all up and down the street as they all ran to the blaring music of Papa Roach.
I watched for half a second and then picked up the duffel bag, and backpack tossing them down into the bed of the Chevey 1500 truck. Quickly I turned and threw the set of guns, and sword right after the bags. AR in hand, truck key in the other, I dropped down to the hood of the vehicle, then rolled off by the driver door pinning my shoulder to it. I jabbed the key into the lock and twisted it, I looked up as my once hot little neighbor, run up behind me shrieking loudly. Twisting around I aimed center mass, pulled once and three rounds flew. She was forced out of her run and landed hard on her back. Rolling to her feet slowly she stood stunned a moment and ran once more at me with a war cry.
"Oh come on! Die already!" Letting three more rounds go, she again was blown off her feet and land, she wasn't getting back up this time. I turned to open the truck as panic hit me, they all slowly turned to me, shrieking like they were having a conversation with each other. Switching the AR to full auto I opened fire spraying what was left of the clip. I jammed the key out, opened the door, and jumped in kicking one that got to me before I could close it. He stumbled back as another crashed into him, just as I got the door closed they both ran into it.
"Son of bitch!" I felt the truck shake as the two ran into it, and then some more as the others caught up. They banged on the window as I started up the truck, putting it in reverse I floored the peddle. The wheels squealed as I quickly backed out, and over the bodies. Cranking the wheel to the left the bed of the truck whipped around smacking more bodies sending them into the air. Dropping it into drive I cranked it back to the right, and I drove down the street.
"Woohoo!" The truck jumped a bit as a small pile of dining zombies acted as a ramp. My little joy ride stopped quickly, despite I was having fun, I braked hard as a pile up of burning cars were blocking the way out. Some of the zombies were walking away from the crash, burning alive. Some of them seemed to be in pain while others acted as if nothing was wrong. "What the hell is with these guys?"
I drove around the block quickly, avoiding crashed cars, heading for the other exit. It was the same, a silent curse left me as I hit the steering wheal. There had to be another way out. There was, the gate that let pedestrians into the neighborhood. Twisting the wheel I gunned the gas and head for the gate. Swerving and dodging what I could, I braced myself crashing through the metal gate. As I did the gate hit the windshield and the airbags deployed, that was all before things went dark.