Dahmer Flu (2 page)

Already, the creatures were collapsing over each other at the base of the stairs, frantically winning one step at a time with uncoordinated effort. From below, a cacophony rose as the table was overturned, scattering our breakfast dishes across the floor; glass was shattered, furniture was trampled, pictures were knocked from the wall.

A heavy crystal vase rocketed past my ear and shattered on the wall in front of the group, showering them with shards. Not one reacted. Spinning, I saw Madi launching another object- the small potted plant she gave her mother for her birthday- which bounced harmlessly off the sunken chest of a ghoul with a sickening smack, reverberating through the stairwell as it clattered down the flight and was lost underfoot.

More items were thrown with the same effect; the horde kept rising slowly up the stairs. The landing was filled with clamoring bodies in various states of dress and composition. With a macabre dryness, I realized that those at the bottom would be left hungry- we weren’t enough to feed them all.

The congregation reached the top of the stairs, as we backed away with a fatalistic postponement. Aimee clutched Jacob desperately while Madi embraced my legs as we backed further. The baby gate offered barely a delay, collapsing from the weight of the ghouls, the first wave falling un-cushioned to the ground. Those behind them clamored over the heap, hungry mouths already working steadily in seeming anticipation. Ostensibly unaware of each other, every pair of dead eyes was fixed on their meal- my family.

We crouched against the wall while Aimee and Madi wept in each other’s arms; Jacob merely stared as if unable to comprehend the danger. This was my family… I failed to protect them. Horrible thoughts ran through my mind- about how to kill my children quickly and painlessly, rather than allow them to face what the terrors would bring. My beloved wife- would she have to watch her babies die? And our unborn child, who would never have a chance to live.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Aimee sobbed to each of us.

“I love you”, back in unison from me and Madi.

The horde continued to advance, as quickly as their broken bodies would allow. Seconds away. Then moments. I steeled myself for death, ashamed at the hope that I would go first, and quickly.

The window.

Towards the horde, on the Eastern wall, the closest window.

“This way!” I shouted, with a renewed, sanguine vigor. I wrenched Aimee by the hand pulling her roughly to her feet- now was not the time for moderation. Surprised, she kept her grip on Madi and Jacob, dragging them directly and trustingly into the advancing maw of the bloodthirsty crowd. Madi dug her feet into the carpet, but Aimee, believing in me, pulled and refused to let go. Survival, if we were to find it, was to be won by only a matter of moments.

We reached the window just feet from disaster. Madi fell to the ground, pushing her small body the wall to gain every precious inch- she was crying and afraid. With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I launched my shoulder into the plate of glass. The curtain offered a slight cushion, but the pain was excruciating as I felt the glass tear at my soft flesh and my shirt begin to grow damp. I could hardly care, with death closing in, and cleared the remaining jagged shards of glass from the windowpane with the curtain before tearing it down to clear our exit. Fruitlessly, I threw the curtain at the group. Unsurprisingly, it failed to slow them.

“Aimee, go!” She hesitated, her eyes flittering to the children. “Go!” I yelled, sharper than she had ever heard from me. I pulled Jacob from her arms before she scrambled over the window sill. She winced as the remaining glass cut at her knees and legs, but she didn’t slow. As she turned back to me, carefully perched on the very small landing that ran the length of the roof, I plunged Madi at her, who cleared the sill and clung, fearfully, to the roof tiles, afraid to look down. Next, I forced Jacob into his mother’s arms, and she held him tightly while trying to balance.

My opportunity was gone- the fingers, hands and stumps of arms reached me and greedily tore at my clothes and limbs. The teeth gnashed closer to my flesh while I desperately pushed them away with everything I had in me. The throng pushed forward, greedy to reach me.

With the last of my strength, I pushed the chest of the closest man, afraid to get close to the teeth or running open sores on his face. This granted me a moment’s respite, which I used to scramble over the glass razors still within the window sill; Aimee and Madi both desperately pulled at me to free me from the home. I kicked, my bare feet finding both rotted flesh and greedy hands, finally collapsing, barely on the narrow edge and balanced only by my two girls. After a moment, I gained enough balance that I wasn’t going to fall, and rose to my knees.

I crawled, backing away from the window, pushing against the others as they, too, scrambled along the narrow ledge. Greedy arms stretched through the window, the remaining glass tearing at their flesh. Again, no reaction and no howl of pain- only the same desperate moaning and relentless pressing.

In their desire to reach us several bodies fell from the window, bouncing off our lifesaving ledge and tumbling in a mass to the ground below. I didn’t look down and didn’t see them land, although I could hear the snap of bones when they hit- my only desire was to reach the relative safety of the flat rooftop at the far end.

Away from the creatures inside, we crawled inch by careful inch along the ledge, Aimee ahead and I behind. Madi closed her eyes tight, relying on feel to inch along- she had always been afraid of heights, but she had little choice now. Gradually, we reached the end and crawled from the ledge, pulling ourselves into the flat rooftop, exhausted, bloodied and terrified. We sat together, breathing heavy and puzzled, but alive.

I looked, finally, out to the street. My heart sank and my mind swam- I could hardly comprehend what it was that I saw. The streets, as far as I could see in each direction, were clogged with the same terrors that now occupied my home. Now that our survival was secured, for the moment at least, my other senses came to life. I could hear the screams, shrieks and cries that filled the air, see the fires that burned in the distance and smell the arid smoke that assaulted my nose.

A fresh scream came from nearby. A man and woman fled from their home with the same terrors spilling out after them. Given their age, they made it fairly far before they were engulfed by the sea of ravenous beings. Aimee covered the eyes of the children, closing her own forcefully, as the two were each pulled apart and torn into while still alive. A muted prayer escaped Aimee’s lips, “God help us”.

It was too late for them, their screams reached a climax, turned to a sickening gurgle, and abruptly ceased; the sudden quiet was what was truly terrifying. They were Phil and Tammy Payne. Married twenty years. She was an accountant, he was a janitor at the same hospital as Aimee. We played poker on weekends. They were dead.

Aimee and Madi were crying through their closed eyes, and Jacob’s lip began to quiver before he started to scream with a tearful wail. This wasn’t the movies- it was shockingly real, with blood flowing in the street and feeding creatures visible everywhere I looked. Finally, I, too, sobbed.

The end had come.

I woke with a start. Months had passed since that day, and every time that I slept- as well as many waking hours when I closed my eyes- I relived the experience. Over and over, our friends and neighbors died horribly. Over and over, we barely escaped from the window. Very often, in my dreams, my family didn’t make it out in time at all, and I watched them die a horrible, painful death.

My dreams, however, always failed to recollect our rescue. As the undead converged on our home, as though we were their last possible meal, all hope seemed lost. I believed that, at best, we would eventually starve or succumb to exposure if the creatures didn’t find their way to where we hid first. After an unbearable wait, the unmistakable thump of a helicopter engine faded into earshot. Aimee, Madi and I searched the skies frantically, hope once again sparking to life.

“There!” Aimee called, pointing- it took me a few moments to recognize the growing spot in the sky, but it became clear as it grew closer. We desperately waved our arms until they grew tired and yelled until our voices cracked. Mercifully, the pilot saw us and banked the craft bank sharply towards our location. We knew, for the moment, we were safe.

Of course, this was when there was still some control. Since then, society had crumbled entirely- even areas that were otherwise safe and inaccessible, like prisons or military installations, were soon choked off and died from within, the inhabitants either starving to death or dying of thirst when the resources ran out, or killing each other when they grew scarce. Different places had their own names for it; ‘The Hunger’… ‘Canadian Shakes’… ‘Black Fever’…But most of us started calling it ‘Dahmer Flu’, and it had spread more or less unchecked. As time passed, it had grown increasingly rare to meet fellow survivors; those that were seen were regarded with suspicion, and avoided whenever possible.

I turned the ignition and the motor-home growled to life. It was early morning and the sun was beginning to peer over the horizon. A light fog hugged the roadside, and Aimee snored softly in the passenger seat while the children were blissfully quiet. This was now our home, and this my morning ritual. The vehicle, of course, was stolen, but that didn’t count for much anymore; I had added thick chicken wire and strengthened the two doors, but the body was otherwise intact. I glanced in the visor’s mirror; I’d never had a beard in my life, but the uneven and ragged one I wore now looked somehow fitting for the situation. Aimee, somehow, had kept herself shaved and trimmed.

We headed west, for no real reason other than a direction that wasn’t ‘here’. The RV picked carefully through the quiet highway, avoiding the long-since burned out wreckage from those that hadn’t made it past this point. We had friends down South and had started that way first, but far as we could tell everything that direction was all but gone and nowhere near safe for the living. We stuck to the back roads to God knows where, hoping to find somewhere safe.  Humanity of course, had survived to a degree; we’re good at that, like cockroaches, but we were just barely doing that.  The people that thought that the government was going to protect them were the ones that were surprised with it didn’t, so they began to arm themselves, fortify areas into compounds, grow their food and protect their own. The rules had changed overnight, and there was no such thing as a friendly neighbor.

Some people just wanted to survive and be left to themselves, while others took advantage of the breakdown in society to form their own for their own reasons. Those who left these compounds had spoken of these places in hushed, frightened tones; that they were ruled, in most cases, by whoever was stronger, or more ruthless, or could keep control- and then only until someone took it from them by force. Especially with women, such places could be worse than out in the wild, with the undead. We avoided those places, too.

Aimee stirred softly beside me and her eyelids fluttered open. I wondered if she had the same dreams as I did; we didn’t talk about our dreams any more. “Good morning, Sunshine.” I reached across the console, folding her hand in mine.

“Where are we?” Her eyes were alert, scanning for movement.

I thought back to the road sign that I had seen a few miles back. “Someplace called ‘Calico’, not far off.”

“Probably some hick town,” she grinned. It was a running joke between us. Aimee was born and raised in Mills Grove, South Carolina, population 628; single pump gas station, a small general store, combined schoolin’, two funeral homes. She lived there most of her life, and we met there while I was driving through on my way to Fort Meade. She worked the front desk at the bed and breakfast- I stayed longer than I intended, and she ended up coming with me when I left. It worked out pretty well for the both of us.

I laughed. It was good to laugh. Without warning, a violent barking cough erupted from behind the rear partition. Our bodies tensed, but then all was still

“He’s getting worse,” Aimee said softly. I nodded grimly. Jacob had developed a cough a few days ago, and his breathing was becoming more labored. Aimee thought it might be croup, and I hoped she was right. I knew that Dahmer Flu was spread through human bites; we’d seen enough of that to know that for sure, but no one could say for certain that it wasn’t airborne, or maybe in the water. Of course, no one knew exactly what it was anyways, so anything was just a guess or rumor.

The motor-home wove through the metal graveyard, and I worried with each curve and bend that we’d find the undead waiting ahead. More than once, as we drove by a still vehicle, the window would suddenly explode with blood and teeth as something inside grew desperate to break out, but we continued unscathed. If Aimee noticed it, she didn’t react.

Steadying herself, she rose and crossed over to the small drawer in the kitchen. After a moment, she returned with a small box filled with medicines and band-aids.

“He’ll need antibiotics,” she continued, angrily settling back into the passenger seat, “This cough syrup isn’t doing shit.” Aimee didn’t swear, except when her children were hurting; then she became someone else entirely. But because we had been avoiding the main roads whenever possible and the large cities entirely, the scavenging had been slim, mostly consisting of canned goods and basic supplies.

“You’re right,” I said, finally. Scanning the side of the road, I pulled into an unmarked building’s parking lot, stopping in the morning shade behind the burned-out structure. We sat, together, on the couch, studying the archaic large folding map. These maps were a precious find, since Tom-tom had stopped working for us some time ago, saying only, tauntingly, ‘
GPS device not found’
. The limitations of the area maps, however, were such that I had no idea which of the small surrounding towns even had a pharmacy, and was unwilling to crisscross unknown streets without payoff.

I hastily folded the map and rose, Aimee eyeing me apprehensively as I snatched the pistol from the driver’s seat pocket.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“There’s a set of payphones around the front-“

“What are you going to do, call Triple-A?” She asked, stalling.

I smiled. I knew she was scared. Hell, I was scared, too. “Phonebooks,” I answered, “I need to find a pharmacy. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and we’re sure as hell not going near a hospital- you know what we’ll find there.”

She knew I was right, but that didn’t make it any easier on either one of us. “I love you,” I kissed her softly. “I love you, too,” she returned. We never missed saying it now, every time we parted- you never knew which time could be the last.

I stared intently through the heavily window, sensitive to any movement. My heart pounded painfully in my chest with the thought of leaving the relative safety of the RV. From the corner of my eye, I briefly thought that I sensed a rapid movement at the far end of the building, but when I looked directly saw nothing. “Birds,” I soothed myself, “That’s all.”

Slowly, I cracked the side door. The well-oiled hinges slid easily and silently, spilling fresh sunlight into the entryway. Carefully, I exited with every sense straining, my mind begging me to return. The door quietly latched behind me and the lock slid solidly into place. Good girl. From old habit, I patted my pocket for a wallet when I left the vehicle, and was only momentarily taken aback when I failed to find one. I had stopped carrying one- there wasn’t a reason anymore; money was just a decent way to start a fire, credit cards were useless, and my driver’s license didn’t do any good. Still, it gave me an odd sense, as if everything in my comfortable life had been taken away.

The handgun led the way in my white-knuckled grip. I inched my way along the outer wall, angled and hidden from the view of anyone or anything on the main road. A sudden shift in the chill wind stung at my eyes and carried the unmistakable suffocating smell of decay. Like a wisp of smoke, it was just as quickly gone. I almost resisted the urge to vomit.

Carefully, I drew alongside the broken-out window that was set into the deep concrete. Windows terrified me, because you never knew what you’d find within. I pulled slightly away from the wall; far enough to be past arms length but not so far as to be visible from the road and slowly, cautiously slipped forward. The process was excruciatingly slow, but if there was a danger within, I wanted to know it while I still had a clear escape route, rather than finding out only after I’d been cut off- that’s the difference between living and ending up as a meal.

I held my breath against the rancid smell that wafted out through the broken glass and peered inside. Before my eyes could fully adjust to the darkness deep inside, I knew I would find. The hot stench of rot assaulted my nostrils, refusing to clear even after I tucked them into my shirt.

The scene inside was the epitome of crushed hope; men, women and, heartbreakingly, children had made a last stand here. I didn’t count- I had learned to stop counting long before, as no good came of it- but easily a dozen still corpses lay strewn about the room in horrible, unnatural states. Each had been gnawed upon, and many were almost completely eaten, or at least that’s the way it appeared; only an unrecognizable stump and a festering stain marked where some had laid. In their relative states, it was impossible to tell who was a victim, and who was an attacker, but peering further, I saw the only carcasses relatively intact were huddled together in the nearby corner. A woman and several children, each with a bullet wound in the forehead; quick, painless, merciful. They looked relatively peaceful in death, only the woman had her eyes still open.

I wondered if the woman and the children weren’t eaten because they were already dead.
Was that the only escape? Are they better off, to have died that way?
I was almost, but not quite, able to shake the thought from my mind. But what I couldn’t shake was the woman’s eyes- serene, still and empty. She was probably beautiful at one time; she had hopes and dreams, fears and needs. How far had they come, to end here? I couldn’t ask her.

Suddenly, movement.

I spun to look at the far end of the building. The movement I saw was the door, its glass hastily reinforced with chicken wire and wood, swinging freely in the wind. I considered going in, since it was already open; perhaps there were weapons inside, or food, or medicine... but I knew I wouldn’t search; I didn’t have the courage. I moved past the window to the corner of the building.

I peered around the building’s jagged edge. Two dilapidated payphones were mounted near the front door, with their receivers hanging limply from the hook; I could only hope that the phonebooks were intact.

I surveyed the very open, very visible parking lot- it was deathly still, except for the light pieces of trash that blew across the empty spaces. With a longing glance at the RV I poured myself around the corner, keeping my back pressed tight against the wall. I crossed to the nearest payphone and crouched, wary of the nearby door, and pulled the metal braid connected to the book’s sleeve. It gave a dull scrape as I pulled it free. Empty. I moved to the next, uncomfortably close to the door, and pulled at the metal braid; it was heavier. Jackpot.

The thin book was locked in place, so I wasn’t able to take it with me. Instead, I hastily flipped through the pages while keeping a wary eye for any danger. “
Pharmacies
”, I read to myself, seeing the heading and the few entries under it. I carefully tore the sheet and shoved it into my pocket, and then hastily retreated around the corner. My nerves failed me and I scurried around the window in a full run, again past arm’s length, and sprinted back to the RV. As I approached, I scratched my chin, left side- I knew Aimee would be watching for my signal. The window blinds open and closed, once- all was well.

As I reached the metal step, I heard the lock slide back and the door cracked with precision timing as I reached it. I slid in and Madi immediately locked the door behind me.

“Hello, Daddy!” She beamed. She was wearing her Disney princess nightgown, her favorite, even though it was a few sizes too big- we took what we could get anymore. She also wore once-expensive white running shoes- the same kind that kids used to murder each other over in the big cities- that would have been out of place with her pajamas in another place and time. But, our rule was simple; shoes were to be worn at all times, even when asleep. We never knew when we’d need to run, and stopping to put on shoes would steal precious moments.

“Morning, princess,” I said, giving her a gently poke on her nose. “Where’s Mom?”