Endemic Rise of the Plague (13 page)

Kate welcomed the chill of the night’s air sweeping over her face. She usually felt free of all worldly attachments riding on the back of her father's motorcycle. She loved riding, but not tonight. While she normally rocked out to her favorite playlist, featuring Bob Marley’s
Three Little Birds
during a ride, her iPod rested in her pocket. She couldn’t bring herself to listen to music right now. Ordinarily, her troubles could be left in the dust while taking a ride. The things she'd seen tonight were like nothing she ever encountered in her fourteen years. She's seen horror movies and loves them. What happened tonight was no movie.

She remembered a
time, a few years ago, before her mother had passed, a neighbor's cat had been hit by a car. She wanted to go over and see if she could help. Her mother made Kate go into the house while she went to check on the cat. When Kate protested, her mother told her,
"Kate, there are some things that you cannot unsee."
It didn't make sense to Kate at the time, but now, she thoroughly understood the message that her mother had given her.

She had seen more horrific things unfolding before her eyes at the carnival, than some people see in their entire life. She tried to be free on the motorcycle, but the events of the evening haunted her. She squeezed her arms tight around her father's ribs.

Most of the streets that they passed had shown no sign of the brutes that had ravaged the carnival. There were a few turns that they made onto disorderly streets. Kate could hear the commotion, but tried not to look. She felt that she'd seen enough of death and gore to last her a lifetime. Yet from when the mob began to cross the carnival, to the time they’d left, had only been about an hour. It felt like years to Kate.

On a quiet residential street, Kate looked up to see that they were traveling on a familiar road. She knew that they were headed home. She felt comforted at the thought of getting to the house and seeing her sister. As they rounded the next corner, she thought she saw something down the road, a shadow. She dismissed it,
convincing herself that she imagined it, and reminded herself that they would be safely home soon.

Nearing the end of the darkened street, suddenly, a man leaped from the darkness into the road. Joe swerved to try to avoid striking the person, but could not avoid the collision. His front tire collided with the pedestrian's leg. Kate shuttered in shock at the sight. Joe
lost control of the bike, causing it to zigzag erratically. As he slid his right leg off the back of the bike, Kate slid off with him, effortlessly like a backpack on his back. They stumbled as they dismounted, falling to the pavement. The bike wobbled back and forth before sliding on its side. Sparks danced on the street as the exhaust pipes scraped across the asphalt, until finally sliding to a stop about thirty feet away.

Joe’s palms seared with pain as he lifted his head from the pavement. Unstrapping his helmet, he glanced at his
scraped hands. Looking over his shoulder, he turned his attention to Kate.

“
Are you alright sweetie?” Joe scrambled to his feet, making his way over to her.

“
Yeah Dad, I'm good. You okay?”

“
Uh-huh,” he looked around for the man they had hit. He’d seen the man's leg break when the motorcycle tire struck him.

Joe stood
up and scanned his surroundings. The area seemed vastly deserted. There were few dimly lit street lamps on this road, a couple decent vehicles parked in driveways and on the street. Some of the houses were lighted, but most were darkened. To Joe, this seemed like an ordinary looking neighborhood. As he turned around, he found the man on his side, pulling himself with his hands across the pavement.

“
Man, are you okay?” Joe said jogging toward the injured man.

As he approached the man, he could hear the m
an huffing and groaning. The pedestrian in the street didn't answer or look up at Joe.

“
Let me help you get out of the street,” Joe said as he moved closer.

The man looked up at Joe with his black eyes and chomped his teeth. Joe jumped back, examining the man in disbelief.
He is one of them. One of the savages, like at the carnival. I can’t understand what’s happening. How could so many people be like this? What actually happened at the carnival? Did all this start there? Whatever is going on, I need to get Kate out of here right now, and then we’ll get to Roxy.
Joe looked back at Kate, now walking toward him dusting off her pants.

“
Stay back Kate,” Joe backed away from the man. He looked at his motorcycle down the street. Smoke began to drift up from the wreckage. He jogged toward the bike as Kate followed.

“
Dad, is he like the others?” Kate swallowed hard.

Joe reached into his pocket and retrieved this cell phone, flipping it over to survey any damages from the crash. It looked unscathed to him with just one signal bar lighting up, then going away.

“Yeah, sweetie, just keep your eye on him, while I check out the bike. Why don’t you try calling your sister again?” He handed off the cell, before lifting the bike and inspecting it.

He quickly glanced back at the guy in the street. The man had changed the direction he
scooted himself. He eyeballed Kate, while skidding himself a little closer with each grunt. From his metered pace, Joe figured it should take him five to ten minutes to make it to them at his current rate.

“Roxy’s cell is going straight to voicemail, like she has no signal or the
phone’s off and I can’t get through to the house. All circuits are busy,” Kate said dryly, tucking the cell into her back pocket.

Joe pushed
the start button on the Harley. Nothing. He reached down to a cable that had come disconnected. While he’d had the motorcycle for a few years now, he’d never maintenanced the bike himself. He expected that reconnecting the loose cable would get the bike started.

“
Dad,” Kate whispered.

“
Hang on kiddo,” Joe kept fiddling with the cable; he almost had it. Heat radiating off the scorching hot engine burned his hand as he strained to reconnect the cable.

“
Dad,” Kate said louder than before.

“
Just a second Kate,” he said abruptly.

Joe stopped.
Looking up at her, he felt a little guilty for his tone. Only, it wasn't Kate that captured his stare. The man slowly made his way across the road, still about twenty feet away. It wasn't the man in the street that lured his attention either. Nine others shuffled in the street toward them. Joe stiffened up, assessing the group that—in no particular formation—advanced from the shadows. The cluster of savages hadn’t spotted Joe and Kate yet, but they shambled with purpose at a distance of thirty feet. Joe gradually placed the motorcycle on the ground.

“
Kate, let’s go. Be quiet and we will jog in the shadows,” Joe whispered.

Just as they turned, the man in the street bellowed, his raspy voice echoing throughout the otherwise serene neighborhood. Suddenly, the nine behind began to run, grunting and flailing their arms about.
The dinner bell had been sounded.

As Joe sprinted down the street with Kate clutching his hand, he heard something hit the pavement behind them. He turned back to see pieces of metal and plastic on the asphalt. It looked electronic in origin, but Joe had no time to think about it now. Adrenaline flooded their systems, as they raced into the night. But it seemed that the creatures behind were much faster, sprinting at an impossible speed. Their grunts and heavy breathing drew closer and closer. Knowing that the group would catch them any second now, Joe and his daughter ran for their lives.

The sound of rubber squealing and jamming gears overpowered the evil sounds of the feral beasts that followed. A truck burst out from behind the house on the next corner, its engine roared like thunder amidst a storm, peeling out, turning toward Joe and Kate. The high beam headlights blinded them for a moment, as they ran out of the path of the truck. Joe and Kate slowed, watching as the truck accelerated toward the group. The headlights bothered the savages, causing them to slow and throw their hands up to block the bright rays of light from their eyes. Gunfire erupted, the sound ripping through the night and echoing down the empty street. In only a few seconds, the savages were down on the pavement.

The reverse light on the truck glowed as it backed up to Joe and Kate’s position. A man, about ten to fifteen years Joe’s senior sat behind the steering wheel, with a younger woman beside him. A
man in the truck’s bed, that looked barely legal, in a soot-covered firefighter uniform, leaned over with a look of concern. The three of them looked like a motley squad of rescuers.

“
Is that your Harley down there?” The driver asked, leaning over the female passenger.

“
Yeah…it was,” Joe said defeated.

“
Then, I take it, you two need a ride?”

Still beside the tree she sought for refuge, Roxy stood with Dave for a brief time, detailing the events of the evening involving her neighborhood and Ann. The full moon exposed itself from the frothy clouds it had been disguised behind. For the first time, Roxy
took a proper look at the man before her in the moonlight. He stood at maybe, six foot-four. His muscles swelled through in his snug fitting gray tee shirt. He looked like a body builder or athlete. He donned blue jeans that sat relaxed on his waist, and hung loose the rest of the way down. His arms were blanketed in a variety of intricate tattoos that seemed to climb up under the sleeves of his tee. Short, black hair topped his head and graced the stubble on his chiseled face. His brown eyes tenderly scanned Roxy as she spoke.

“Don’t know about you, but we should probably get somewhere a little more secure. We’re in the wide open here. From the sound of it, your house isn’t an option and mine is toast. Literally, it’s on fire. Maybe we can go over and check out one of those warehouses back on Hells Canyon. I’m sure that they’ll have a phone, a radio or something, so we could get some news updates to find out exactly what’s going on. Unless you want to keep on your own,” Dave suggested as he began in the direction of the car that Roxy left behind.

Roxy felt some element of safety with this man she’d just met. It felt comforting to be with another normal person. Although it hadn’t been long since this all began, it felt like it had been days since she’d had a real encounter with normalcy. What he said made perfect sense.
We should get inside somewhere safe and secure. It isn’t safe for us on the street, out in the open, and with no car.
Ordinarily, this idea would be entirely out of the question. After the dangers she’d encountered this evening, the thought of getting inside and feeling secure, superseded all else. Even still, she felt nervous about breaking into a building—and with a stranger at that.
He may have something entirely different on his mind. But what choice do I have?

“Well, that sounds great and all, but those warehouses are businesses. I’m pretty sure, they’re locked down tight, and some might even have alarms,” Roxy hurried to catch up with him, slinging her duffle over her shoulder and gripping her bat tighter than ever. His long strides combined with
his speed-walk made it seem as if he were in a slow run. “Come on ladies.”

“True, but I think we may be able to get into one. We just have to find the right one,” he said as he picked up the pace.

“Why are we running?” She jogged behind him, her dogs trotting at her side.

“I have a bad feeling out here. I think we need to get inside somewhere, fast. Those things are swarming around the hospital, so it’s only a matter of time before they take the park,” he shouted over his shoulder.

As they jogged past Roxy’s car, Ann thrashed, while still trapped in the passenger seat of the car. She had broken the passenger window, her face bloodied, and still snarling. The ladies took notice, letting out muffled growls as they trailed Roxy.

Dave came to a stop at the sidewalk. He scanned the buildings across Hells Canyon.
While being one of the lesser traveled roads in Port Steward, it seemed unusually vacant tonight. The warehouses across the street were darkened, casting menacing shadows in the moonlight.

“There, the mechanic shop. That’s where we need to go,” he pointed to the smallest building within eye shot.

“That one? Are you sure?” Doubt resonated in her voice.

“Trust me. It’s small enough that we can easily secure all the exits. We don’t want any of those things getting in while we’re there. Besides, it’s a mechanic shop, it should be easy to get into, and there may be something practical that we can use,” he said, crossing the street.

“Practical, like what?”

“Maybe a working car…or a gun.”

She slowed her pace momentarily, “A gun,” she said quietly to herself, and then picked up the pace. She didn’t like guns. The thought of shooting someone seemed as unnatural to her as living on Mars.
She understood his reasoning in looking for a defensive weapon to keep the crazy people away, she still couldn’t help but feel edgy about the thought of a gun in the hands of this man that she knew very little about.

Dave bypassed the front door facing the street and went toward the side of the building. Walking through the narrow, shadowy corridor, Roxy followed closely with her ladies at her side. On the left of the corridor, the mechanic shop stood tall and sturdy and to the right, a cyclone fence. The fence, topped with barbed wire, entirely surrounded the neighboring property—a custom fabrication shop—according to the sign on the side of the building. The property was likely filled with welders, like Roxy’s father, during the daylight hours, but now remained stark and empty.

As they reached the side door to the shop, Dave shook the knob, with no luck. He sank to his knees as appeared to be carefully examining the locked door knob. Roxy backed away, leaving him to his burglary attempt, exploring the exterior of the building for any other possible entrances. There wasn’t so much as a window to look into from her vantage point, although she could see a row of windows, several feet up, along the top of the building’s walls.

She continued down the corridor until she reached the end of the buildin
g. Another cyclone fence, this one topped with razor wire enclosed the entire backside of the shop. A few broken down vehicles could be spotted through the fence in the moonlight. Sprawled out in the yard were a mishmash of vehicles including, an older, rusted sedan, missing its back wheels and propped up on a jack, a compact hatchback with the windshield busted out, and an old yellow truck with a mismatched camper shell, along with the guts of at least four other vehicles. A gate on the far side of the yard led out to an alleyway locked with a chain and a padlock.

What are we doing? We could get arrested and my dad will kill me. This place is not going to work. We shouldn’t be doing this. Why do I always let everyone around me make decisions and never make any for myself?
She recalled the numerous lectures from her father about not being a follower and to stand up and say something when things aren’t right. The suggestion to break into this place was just sprung on her, and while at the moment it sounded like a good idea, she didn’t want to participate. Turning back, she wiped the sweat from her upper lip and brow, the sweltering night air felt unforgiving. Dave still messed with the door knob. As she made her way back toward him, she heard squealing from the road.

Dave stood from the door and sprinted down the narrow space between the mechanic shop and the fence surrounding the next building with Roxy running just behind. Reaching the edge of the sidewalk, looking west, they could see a tour bus driving turbulently toward the park. It veer
ed over the center line, traveling on the wrong side of the road. It swerved quickly to the right speeding straight toward the mechanic shop. Dave grasped Roxy’s shoulder, ready to pull her out of the way. The bus took another hard left, this time it tilted off-center. The bus leaned toward them before toppling over, smashing into the pavement. Skidding across the road on the passenger side, gravel burst from the road under the bus as it slowed to a stop, not forty feet from where they stood. The dogs stood at Roxy’s side barking anxiously.

“Ladies,” she said firmly. They silenced and sat, looking up at her. “Dave, I think we need to go…now.”

“I’ll get us in,” he rushed back to the door, crouching down once again.

Roxy and the ladies remained on the corner of the building. From there, she could see Dave to her right and the bus straight ahead. Her thoughts of standing up and doing the right thing were diminishing fast. She wanted off this street and away from that bus.

The passengers were causing a commotion, growling sounds masked by screams resonated down the street and throughout the park. Roxy recognized the pained echoes. They were the same sounds that Ann had made in the car and that could be heard throughout her neighborhood, earlier this evening. Passengers began to emerge from the top side of the bus, climbing out of windows. A normal seeming man with a bloody wound on his forehead, wearing a torn suit had been the first to make it out. He hurried through the window, followed closely by three others. Scrambling to the end of the bus, he was tackled by the others and the four of them tumbled off the bus. Roxy cupped her hand over her mouth thinking that she may scream, as she stepped around the corner out of view of the bus.

“Ladies, go lay down,” Roxy whispered to them pointing in the direction of Dave. They sauntered toward Dave and laid down about five feet from him, still facing Roxy.

“Dave, how’s it coming?” She whispered urgently, as she peeked back in the direction of the bus.

“Almost there,” his voice echoed down the passageway to the street.

Roxy looked on, as now close to twenty people had exited the bus. They were beginning to spread out in the area. A few had taken notice of the noise coming from Roxy’s wrecked car and were headed in that direction. Not many of them were normal, and the ones that seemed like they weren’t fiends, were being violently attacked. A young girl of Kate’s age launched herself at what could only be surmised as her mother. Taking the woman to the ground, four others joined the girl, brutally ripping the flesh from her arms and face.

Roxy stepped back, at the sight of the horror unfolding on the street, in doing so, a crunch came from beneath her boot. Lifting her foot, she saw that she had stepped on a shard of glass
from a broken bottle. Lifting her head, she found that had caught the attention of two fiends. The man out in front tilted his head back, roaring at a volume that sent shockwaves through Roxy’s eardrums. He broke into a sprint with almost a half dozen following. Roxy’s mouth hung ajar, finding nowhere to hide. She stood in place, temporarily unable to move as the group of fiends closed in on her.

“We’re in,” Dave shouted.

Roxy snapped out of her paralyzed state and raced for the door. Dave opened the door and the dogs immediately entered the building to investigate as Roxy approached. Glancing over her shoulder before entering the shop, she spotted the group rounding the corner. Dave slammed the door behind him and locked it. They silently backed away from the steel reinforced door, hearing to the thuds and grunts emanating from the other side.

Frosty air
in the brick structure lingered. High ceilings and concrete floors were to blame for the chilly temperature. Roxy exhaled gently as the cool air was a welcomed contrast to the hot summer night outside. The structure itself had a penitentiary feel to it. The walls are at least twenty feet tall and made of massive, concrete bricks, with small windows across the top of the walls. Possibly to let in some natural light, as they are too high to see out of them. There are two steel reinforced doors in which to enter or exit. The first is located at the front of the shop, facing the street and the second is the side door that they had used to gain access to the building. Three large, metal roll up doors located at the south end of the shop—open up to the fenced in lot at the rear of the property. Near the center of the building, there are two rows of shelves containing greasy bins with miscellaneous auto parts and tools. Beyond the shelves, are three vehicle lifts, two being unoccupied, and the center one having a faded-blue, Ford Probe about six feet in the air. Across from the third lift, at the front of the shop, is a loft. Roxy studied it for a moment, thinking maybe it contained a storage room or an office. She could hear a lock being twisted and turned her attention back to Dave. He stood at the front door now, checking the security of the door.

The pounding on the door had now subsided and the few grunts being made by the crazed people outside were with far less frustration in their primal dialect.

Roxy walked toward the front door and around a dated counter to the left. A small, filthy desk resided behind the counter. Piles of receipts and paperwork were tossed all over, topped with candy wrappers, half a dozen partially full soda cans and nearly half of a mystery meat sandwich.

“This must be the office then,” Roxy joked. “How did you get that door open, Dave? Have we done a little time for B and E?”

“Very funny. I learned to pick locks as a kid, and yes I did get busted for it. It’s not something I do regularly, but I figured that the circumstances called for it,” he said. His shoulders loosened up as he pulled up a chair at the desk.

While
a nagging voice of reason lingered in Roxy’s head, telling her that they could get into serious trouble for breaking and entering, she did feel more relaxed now that they were inside this building. More than anything, a feeling of safety and relief fell over her.

“I really need to get a hold of my dad and sister. They went to the carnival tonight, and I haven’t heard from them all night. I need to make sure that they are okay and see where my dad wants me to go, since I can’t go home. Do you see a phone? My cell has no reception here, zero bars,” she said, slipping her phone into her pocket.

“Yeah, there is a cordless back here,” he retrieved the phone from the counter, under a pile of tattered paperwork and handed it to her. “I’m sure they’re in a safe place.”

She dialed the phone and waited for a moment, shaking her head. She hung it up and put it down on the desk. “All circuits are busy on the landline, and I haven’t had cell reception since this all started. What’s going on?”