APOCALYCIOUS: Satire of the Dead (17 page)

             
They stayed that way for some time before, eventually, leading the girls out to Foster’s old flatbed Ford. Mick saw that Foster had loaded all of his camping gear along with weapons and tools. He instantly realized just how fortunate he was that the rugged handy man was his dad.

             
They slid into the truck, Mia sitting on Mick’s lap and Nan sitting in the middle and leaning on Mick and Mia for reassurance. They drove deeper and deeper into the wooded hills of West Virginia’s mine country.

             
It looked like it was going to be a white Christmas with more snow on its way but Foster thought that it would be forever stained in crimson.

Chapter 13 - Attrition

Parkersburg, West Virginia 

              Drew Finley arrived at work just like he had every day for the past five years. His short cropped hair that was held immoveable by massive amounts of gel was black and looked wet as if he had just stepped out of the shower. His forehead shined in the fluorescent lighting with a thin film of grease that he could never keep from reappearing. He immediately headed to the Supervisor’s break room where he would meet one of his female coworkers.

Amanda Currington was another boss, and like
Finley, she was also on the fat and sloppy side. Her moon-pie face was dotted with acne and then coated with a thick layer of makeup that made her face a different color than her pale neck. Drew knew she wasn’t an attractive woman, but what she lacked in looks she made up for in her inventiveness in the bedroom. Desperation had compelled her to participate in every deviant act he wanted to try. She didn’t mind getting slapped around or choked or tied up, in fact, she actually kind of liked the whole rape scenario that he most loved to play with her. When Amanda was at work though, she was notorious on the floor for treating her employees like they were a sub-species. She talked down to them as if they were children in an orphanage that had to be dealt with firmly, and Drew marveled at how different she was when it was just the two of them.

             
As he entered the plush break room he immediately knew that something was wrong; Amanda was there waiting for him like she was every morning, but her makeup wasn’t and without it she looked like she had the measles. Her normally neat appearance in the finest designer clothes had also taken the day off; in place of the latest fashions were old flannel pajamas and expensive running shoes; which she clearly had never worn to a track or upon a treadmill. Her eyes were wet and had a haunted quality to them. Drew felt his penis begin to swell at this sight and locked the door behind him. He walked over to where she sat and unzipped his fly. Normally, she would have attacked his manhood like Kobayashi at the Nathan’s hotdog eating contest, but today she just looked up at him. He liked that look. Scared, weak and vulnerable was his bread and butter.

“Hey,” he said expectantly.
                                                                                                                             

She slowly looked down at his throbbing manhood. “I don’t want to…”

Drew smacked her in the face cutting off her negative response. “I’m not asking you.” 

She looked at it again and he smiled as she
obeyed.

             
It didn’t take him long to finish, that being the hottest thing he had witnessed in a long, long time. As he stuffed the still slightly swollen member back into his pants he looked at her appreciatively. “Thanks, Baby, that was spectacular.” He noticed that she hadn’t taken the time to tidy herself up after he had finished and a frown crossed his brow. His tone softened and he gently picked up her chin with the hand he had just used and left a slick of her own spit on her face. “Are you alright, Mandy?”

             
She shook her head.

             
“So what’s the problem?” he asked her.

             
“My mom….” Her voice trailed off and he waited a moment, leaning forward expectantly for her to finish her sentence.

             
“What about your mom?” he asked, raising an eyebrow impatiently.

             
She faltered for a moment then continued, “She attacked me.”

             
“What? Attacked you?” he asked in surprise. “That old bag must be ninety.”

             
She nodded slowly and began crying again. “She bit me,” she said and pushed up her sleeve to show him her arm. He felt himself recoil; the wound had already scabbed over and didn’t, itself, look that bad, but the red lines that ran from its point of origin did. They ran through her vascular system and where they should have been that typical light blue and barely visible, they stood out in a shade of deep maroon against her orange, spray-tanned flesh.

             
“When did this happen?” he asked, and removed his hand from her face.

             
“This morning, about three hours ago.” she replied almost vacantly now. It seemed that as the seconds ticked by she was becoming more composed and he vainly attributed it to the supernatural healing qualities of his seed. Amanda probably would have disagreed.

             
He thought back on how light traffic had been this morning and there had been a lot more wrecks and emergency vehicles than normal, but he was too busy to be stopping to see if anyone needed help. He seemed to have a faint recollection of the morning news about some new flu virus or something. He had the television programed to turn on as his alarm clock, but its purpose was to wake him for work not for actual viewing. He grabbed the remote from the long, mahogany meeting table and thumbed the ‘on’ button to activate the large flat screen that hung on the wall. When it came to life he switched the channel button to the local news.

             
On the screen, Police Chief, Tom Harmon, was being in front of City Hall. Finley thought he saw that there was blood on his pressed blue uniform. He glanced back at Mandy for a moment and noticed that she was lost in her own little world; he returned his attention back to the tube.

“Martial Law is being enforced at this time until further notice. The public is ordered to remain in doors at all times. Securing all doors and windows is of utmost importance,” said the chief as he wiped a white handkerchief across his forehead. He continued, “The National Guard has been alerted and will work to contain this threat. If someone you know has been bitten, they are to be presumed as infected. If you encounter one of the infected do not engage unless it is necessary. If this is the case, you are to dispatch the victim by ‘decapitation’. You have to cut off their head,” the chief reiterated. 

The camera shifted to an equally disheveled reporter. Claire Fontaine had been a staple in the Parkersburg local news for the past few years and Drew remembered her well from their earlier interview and he was sure that she remembered him too. He had seen the way she had looked at him and he was sure that she wanted him.
Most women did,
he thought.

“So to be clear, chief, these are
zombies
, correct?” she said, swinging the mike back under his chin.

The Police Chief frowned and replied “Miss Fontaine, we are not making any speculations as to what exactly this incident is, or about how widespread this phenomenon might be. I’m simply giving your viewers necessary information and nothing else.”

She swung the mike back to herself and asked, “Is there any other information you can give to the public?” 

He looked at her sternly as she swung the mike back to him. “Yeah, go home, lady, before I arrest you.” he said to her for about the fifth time today, then turned and stormed back into the Municipal Building, flanked by two uniformed cops carrying shotguns and wearing riot gear.

Mitch filmed the Chief’s retreat then panned the camera back to center on Claire. “Well you heard Chief Harmon; stay off the streets and stay inside your homes; this is Claire Fontaine for Action 7 news…back to you, Chip.”

             
Finley clicked the ‘off’ button and thought in silence for a while. He put a firm hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “Come with me, baby,” he said, and roughly helped her to her feet.

             
“Where are we going?” she asked groggily.

             
“I have to quarantine you for a little while, but I’ll be back,” he assured her, leading her from the office, down the stairs and into a walk-in freezer. She didn’t resist him.

             
“Where are you going?” she asked.

             
“I’m going home for a few things, and then I’ll be back.”

             
“What if someone else shows up for work?” she asked

             
“I’m going to shut the gates behind me; they won’t get in.” he said, then shut the freezer door behind him and left the factory to go find an axe.

                                                
Chapter 14 - Claire Fontaine, Signing Off

Parkersburg, West Virginia 

             
“I hate cops,” Claire Fontaine said, more to herself than to Mitch Rodriguez, her camera man; or Mitch the bitch as she liked to refer to him. She was still fuming about how the Chief had treated her. He had no idea who he was dealing with. She stared into a mirrored compact as she applied a fresh coat of red lipstick.

             
“Maybe he told us to get off the street for a reason, Claire,” said Mitch as he maneuvered through the wreckage of the Parkersburg disaster area. He swerved to miss a burning mini-van and Claire shot him an irritated look.

             
“I am
trying
to put on my makeup, you idiot.” She rolled her eyes then continued on her previous rant. “Why don’t you two just go ahead and make out the next time we see him?”

             
Mitch maintained his cool like he had for the past eight months of working for the camera-loving egomaniac and continued, “Seriously Claire, look around, there are
dead
people walking around and
eating
living people.”

             
“I am aware of that, Mitch, it’s called the News. That’s my job, to report it. Your job is to do what I tell you to do and I am telling you to go to Jefferson High School.”

             
“I’m not sure that I am comfortable filming a bunch of kids being slaughtered by homicidal corpses. It seems a bit unethical,” said Mitch sarcastically.

             
“Would it be ethical to keep the public in the dark about the dangers of venturing outside?” said Claire spinning her angle.

             
“Claire, you don’t give a damn about the public. You only care about getting that contract with Action 7’s sister station in LA,” he said in exasperation.

             
A small evil grin crept onto her lips. “If you don’t like your job, Mitch, I can get another piss boy for half the pay.”

             
Mitch knew that it was true and he also knew that his wife and two daughters counted on his pay check to pay the bills. He wanted nothing more than to be home with them tonight and to make sure they were alright, but he had called them earlier to make sure they stayed inside and locked the doors. He told them to stay in the basement and cover the windows too.  He would be home as soon as possible. Sooner, if Claire didn’t shut her big mouth.

             
“Look Mitch, the sooner we get this over with the sooner you can go home and protect your girls,” said Claire softening her tone.

             
Mitch knew exactly what she was doing; she was working him. He had seen it a hundred times before. Claire Fontaine knew how to get her own way whether it was by complaining or complimenting; psychological games or simply unbuttoning a couple extra buttons on her blouse. She used the gifts that God and plastic surgeons had given her regardless of if it was for un-Godly reasons or not.

             
Mitch wheeled into the high school parking lot and slid to a stop. The snow and slush was refreezing and covering the plowed roads and parking lots with a thin layer of ice. He slammed the gear selector into Park and viewed the scene through the windshield.