Born In The Apocalypse (9 page)

Chapter 17

My dad woke me in what I considered a rude manner in the morning.  His hand was over my mouth, and he waited until I had fully awakened before he took it away.  When he did, he told me something that made me wish he had kept his hand on my mouth so I could yell appropriately.

“There’s Trippers all around us.  Stay on the floor, get your stuff, and very quietly get over to the door.  Stay away from the windows,”  Dad said as he slowly crawled to his gear and started packing it up.  It didn’t look easy trying to do that while lying down, and when I tried it, I found it wasn’t.

I got my stuff together and slowly made my way to the front door.  Fortunately, there were curtains on the windows, so there wasn’t a good chance of being seen.  But by the front door there weren’t any, so any Tripper looking in might have a chance of seeing us.  I didn’t understand my dad’s logic, but here we were.

In a minute, my dad joined me.  “You okay?”  he asked.  His gun was in his hand, and he was sweating slightly.  I was sweating as well, since my bow was unstrung, and it was little more than a curvy stick right now.

“Okay.  I’m going to go to the back door and start making some noise.  When they clear out of the front, get to your bike and get riding, don’t wait for me,”  he said.

“But, Dad!” I whispered in protest.

“No, Josh.  I need you to get away, and I don’t want to have to worry about you if I’m trying to get away, too.”

“But…”

“Do what I say, Josh.  I’ll be fine.  Be ready to move.”  My dad gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head and then slipped away to the back door.  I couldn’t see him, but in a second I could hear him.

“Hey!  Hey!  Right here!  Right here!”  he shouted. 

I jumped slightly when I heard a couple of shots.  I used the few seconds I had to string my bow and get it ready just in case.  I wished I knew how to use my new gun, but I’d probably shoot myself in the leg.

I looked out the window and saw the front was clear of Trippers.  I saw two of them stumbling around the side of the house, and I knew it was time to go.

“I’m out, Dad!” I yelled as I yanked open the door.  Two more shots sounded, and I heard my dad yell out.

“Go, Josh!  Move!”

I leapt down the stairs and sprinted towards my bike.  I pulled it off the bush and rode like a lunatic towards the end of the driveway.  I was at the road, about fifty yards away from the house, when I stopped.  I know my dad told me not to, but I couldn’t just leave.  I saw movement.  I saw my dad run through the house pursued by a very fast Tripper.  Just as he got to the door and tried to close it, the Tripper grabbed his shirt.  My dad was pulled around, and I could see the rage in the Tripper’s face as its head darted forward to try and bite my dad’s face off. 

My dad’s hand went up and punched the Tripper in the chin which gave him time to get his other hand up, the one with the gun, and shoot the infected man in the face.  The Tripper went down without a sound, but the delay allowed two more Trippers to get close to my dad.  One reached for his legs while the other grabbed his gun arm.

My dad let out a bellow of rage—a sound I had never heard before.  It scared the hell out of me and finally got me moving.

“Dad!” I screamed, whipping an arrow out of my quiver.  I nocked and fired so fast I had a second arrow ready to go before the first one hit the target.  My aim was true; the Tripper at my dad’s waist got an arrow through the top of her head, which killed her instantly.  My second arrow stayed in my bow as my dad was in the way, and I didn’t have a shot.

“Go, Josh! 
Ride, dammit
!” my dad yelled. “
Go
!”

I was crying as I rode up the street, not knowing what to do. I stopped at the top of the hill watching the road behind me for any movement, anything.  Tears streamed down my face as I cried in frustration.  I wished I was bigger, I wished I knew how to shoot my gun, I wished all the Trippers would just die.

I sat down with my bow cradled in my arms, and I just rocked back and forth.  I didn’t know what else to do.  I stared at the road until I had to blink, then stared at it some more.

Chapter 18

Suddenly, I saw something.  I stood up to see better and there was my dad!  He was pedaling furiously, and there was three Trippers chasing him, but with every turn of the pedal he got further and further away.  I got on my bike and started to ride, and he caught up to me in short order.  We rode for a little while, then stopped when it looked like weren’t going to be pursued any further.

I jumped off my bike and ran over to my dad, throwing my arms around him.  He hugged me back, and it was a minute before we spoke.

“You okay?” I asked, looking him over.

“Thanks to you,” he said. “Your arrow gave me the seconds I needed.  Thanks for not listening.”  My dad gave me another hug with his left arm, then let me go. “Come on, we need to put some miles on these bikes.  I want to be home before lunch.”

I could have pedaled all day; I was so happy to have my dad back.  Everything seemed to be especially bright this morning for some reason, and I was glad for it.  Nothing like a little run in with death to really clarify your vision. 

We rode for a long time, passing by some of the same scenery we had seen on the way out.  I was glad to have made this trip with my dad, but at the same time I had to wonder what the point really was.  I’m glad my dad had a chance to talk to me, but we could have had a campout back in the yard.

We were about ten miles from home when we saw a small caravan heading south.  It was about ten wagons long, and there were several horses and bikes.  My dad waved to one of the men riding alongside, and the man rode over to greet us.

“Hello!  You moving north?” the man said.  He was a tall man, made taller in the saddle, and had the weathered look of so many people.  His blue eyes were sharp, though, and I could see him taking in my father’s badge, gun, and my bow.  His eyes lingered on my dad, but he didn’t say anything.

My father answered.  “No, west. We’re about ten miles from home.  What’s wrong?”

“Tripper wave, said to be bad, coming out of the city.  Ask me, every one of those subdivisions should be burned to the ground.”  The man spat and looked north.  “They’ll be here in a day, maybe less.  Two communities already went down.  We’re heading to the river.”

My heart sank.  I had seen two Tripper waves in my life, and it was always bad.  For whatever reason, the infected sometimes decided to walk in a huge group, and they swept away everything in their path.  The only thing you could do was hunker down and hope they passed by.  If they found you, they’d tear your house down to get you.  Our stone wall kept us safe both times, but it was a near thing.

“Thanks.  I have to get home; my wife is waiting,” Dad said.

“Good luck, then.”  The man turned his horse and rode away, leaving us at the road.

My dad shook his head.  “We have to ride, Josh.  We have no choice.”

I shrugged.  What else could I do? We couldn’t stay out here, and if a wave hit our house, mom would probably lose it if we weren’t there.

We rode as hard as we could without taking breaks, and the miles went past slowly.  In the north we could see plumes of smoke rising in the air, and we knew the wave was coming.  A half an hour later, we were throwing our bikes into the stable and securing them.  Dad’s horse bucked a bit, but she settled when we fed her.

Inside the house, my mom smiled when she saw us both, and then her smile turned to a frown as she looked at my dad.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Nothing.  Got into it a little with some infected over by the wall.  Nothing serious.  Josh took one out; I took out another.  No big deal.”  My dad tried to sound casual, but there was something in his voice that alarmed my mom and me.

“Let me see your arm,”  Mom said.

“I’m fine.  Just a scratch from a branch.  No worries, really.”

“Show me.”

My dad sighed and rolled up his sleeve on his right arm.  On his wrist was a bloody mark, and it was easy to see the semi-circular pattern on the edge.  The wound was red and angry looking, and my world turned upside down when I saw it.

A Tripper wave was coming, and my dad was infected.

Chapter 19

I didn’t know what to say or do.  I just looked at my dad and his injured arm.  My mother put her hands up to her face and just started crying.  I felt like doing just that, but I couldn’t get past the feeling of being empty. 

My dad broke the silence.  “Look, I’ll be okay for a while.  We know it takes a while before the worst of it hits.  I’ll get everything as squared away here as I can.  Once I’m gone, it’s up to the two of you if you want to stay or go to a larger community.  Right now, I’m going to clean this up and get ready for the Tripper wave.  Josh, you need to help.  Maria?  I’ll need some help with this wound.”

My mom looked up at my dad like he was crazy, but she helped him anyway.  She wrapped her arms around his waist and helped him upstairs. I noticed she kept her hands away from his injured arm.  I would have, too. 

I shook myself to get moving, and I went out to the garage.  I tried to keep myself busy by getting the window covers, but my hands kept slipping and I kept dropping them on the floor.  When I went to pick them up, I had a hard time because my hands were shaking so badly.

Finally, I rounded up as many as I could carry and took them inside the house.  They were labeled on the inside, and I placed each one by its appropriate window.  After I had gathered each one, I went around and put them over the windows themselves, latching them in place.  The covers weren’t anything more than plywood, but they were meant to keep the Trippers from seeing or hearing anything that would get them to attack.  I had hoped we wouldn’t need them anymore, but for some reason the damn Trippers kept coming back.  I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how we all were going to end up one day, just wandering around in a daze, slowly decaying away until we eventually die.  I wish they all would die right now.

After I put the covers in place, I opened the small window my dad had cut in each one.  It was a small square right in the center.  It was too small for a Tripper to fit through, but it was big enough to have plenty of angles to shoot them away.

I didn’t do anything other than close the drapes on the upstairs windows, and I looked in on my dad.  He was washing his arm and his wound, cleaning it out as well as he could.  It was a nasty bite, but since it had gone through his shirt first, there was a hope he wasn’t too deeply infected.  I had heard some people had been bitten and managed to not turn, so if it wasn’t a bad bite maybe my dad would be okay.

He caught me looking, and he glanced over at my mom who was sitting on the edge of the bed.  She was lost in a daze, just looking out the window, not really doing much at all.

“Hey, Josh! Seems like it wasn’t as deep as I thought.  Maybe there’s a chance after all.  Help me with the bandage, would you?”  My dad tried to sound cheerful and light, but I could hear the strain in his voice.

“Sure,” I said.  I went over to the sink and took the roll of bandages.  Dad held the sterile pad over his cut while I wrapped it up a few times.  I tied it off and then cut the extra.

“Good work,” Dad said. “Let’s check the defenses, shall we?”

“How does it feel, dad?” I asked, my curiosity overcoming my fear for a moment as we worked our way around the rooms and then headed downstairs.

“Actually, Josh, not that bad.  Hurt at first, but now it just stings a little.” He looked at me. “Wouldn’t recommend you go and get your own, though.” 

I smiled, but I knew he was just trying to make me feel better.  I didn’t know what I felt.  I was scared, worried, and uncertain all at the same time.  What if my dad turned?  Would I have to kill him?  What would my mother do?  What would I do?  How could I keep up this house?  Would we go to a community?  I just didn’t know.

We checked the downstairs preparations, and dad sent me out to collect some extra buckets of water and to make sure the horse was secured in her stall.  I gave her an extra helping of hay, and she seemed to be content with the proceedings.  I think I was a little jealous of her.

After that, there was little to do but sit around.  We stayed upstairs because the house was very dark on the first floor.  The window covers were very effective, and only a little light showed around the portholes.  If I stayed down there I could see a little, but it wasn’t easy.  I went into my room and started making more arrows.  I was nearly out of materials, but I did the best I could with what I had. 

After I had made about two dozen, I pulled a couple of books off the shelf and dove in.  They were westerns, naturally, since I was the proud new owner of a Colt.  That thought sobered me a bit when I thought about what that Colt had cost me.  Or might cost me; we’ll see.

Chapter 20

The sun was slipping past the horizon when I looked out the window.  That was when I saw the first one.  She was young, about my age, and was moving slowly through the trees.  Her blonde head swayed a little from side to side, and her arms were out in front a bit to give her a little balance.  She was wearing a sweater and some jeans, and I could make out some dark marks on her face.  As she got closer, I saw those marks were blood stains.  She looked around, scanning for threats, and moved along our western wall.  She was about fifty feet from where I was, and I could have easily killed her with an arrow, but I didn’t dare make a sound.  Her angry cries would draw everyone around for a mile, and I had enough to worry about.

I watched her stumble past, and happened to look over at my neighbor’s house.  It had been empty for years, and there was nothing of any use in there.  The only thing it was good for was firewood.  Dad and I had torn up the oak floorboards from the two bedrooms last winter when the snows were really bad.

After her came two more—young men by the looks of them.  One had a knife sticking out of his shoulder, and the other was dragging a broken foot.  I remembered the arrow I had put in the chest of another Tripper, and I couldn’t help but wonder why that one died but this one seems to be doing just fine.

Suddenly, the two stiffened and they stared at the house next door.  I looked up and saw that someone was there!  There was a person standing in the downstairs window, and with the last sunlight drifting through the building, they were outlined as clear as day.  The Trippers began to move up to the house, and whoever was there wasn’t very bright, because they moved quickly to close the curtains. 

That was it.  The Trippers howled and rushed the house, one reaching it sooner than the other with the broken foot, but they started to pound on the window they saw the person in.  The noise brought back the blonde from before, and there were six more that came over the yard and advanced on the house.

“Dad!” I whispered, walking away from the window.  “Dad!”  I went into my parent’s room, and found my dad reading a book.

“What is it Josh?”  He looked up from his reading.  I caught the cover and it said ‘Triggernometry’, whatever that might be.

“Trippers are at the house next door,” I said quietly, even though I wanted to shout it.

My mother looked up from her work, glanced at my dad and said, “So it begins.”

“There’s no one there, so no worries Josh.  They can’t get over the wall,” he said.

“But there is someone there!  They were in the window, and the Trippers saw them!”

Dad put the book down and followed me as I ran back to my room. I could hear the banging as the Trippers pounded on the windows and walls of the house next door.

Dad looked out. “Jesus,” he said.

And how.  I looked out and saw nearly fifty of the infected creatures. They came in all shapes and sizes, and every one was trying to get into the house.  If anyone was in there, I hoped they had put themselves into the attic and were being quiet in a corner.

A crashing of glass, a screech of triumph, and the infected were in. They streamed through the broken window and flooded the house.  We watched them as they roamed around the downstairs and figured it was only a matter of time before we saw them upstairs.

A few minutes later, we were right.  And a second after that we heard a scream.  It was a deep, painful scream, like someone who had just lost a best friend or loved one.  Suddenly it was cut off, and there was a frenzy of activity in one of the rooms.  I was grateful I couldn’t see into the room.

Outside, the Trippers who hadn’t gone in were milling about.  But they got excited when a boy about my age came tearing out of the broken window.  His arms were torn and bitten, and it looked like he had been given a bloody nose.  But he was moving, and might have made it if he hadn’t run full tilt into another group of Trippers. 

He yelled as they pounded and tore at him, biting and clawing his flesh away.  When he fell to the ground, they fell with him, beating and tearing.  His yells turned to screams as they ripped his abdomen open, and ropes of intestines were thrown into the air. He stopped screaming when they tore his heart out.

I could do nothing but watch.  He was already infected, and would have been lost anyway.  Being a Tripper was almost the same as being dead.  It just took longer for the process to get done.

My dad looked at me and turned away, saying nothing.  We were both probably thinking the same thing.  What was going to happen to him?  What was going to happen to mom and me?  I wished I knew.