Flesh-Eater (Book 1): Fear the Fever (4 page)

Z
eke dropped the chair he had swung at his father’s head.  He hadn’t meant to hit him so hard, but he had to do something to stop him from hurting his mother.

His mother.

He looked up, seeing the anguish in her eyes as she cradled her bloody arm, staring at her husband with her mouth gaping open.

“Ma?  Are you okay?  Did I hit you?”

Her mouth moved, but only a small moan came out.  She was shaking her head slowly and kept flicking her eyes between Derek’s caved-in skull and Zeke.

“Ma?”  Zeke moved closer to her.  “Ma, we need to get that looked at.”

“He bit me!” she managed to blurt out.  “Why?  Why would he do that?”  She looked at Zeke with tears in her eyes.

“I don’t know, Ma.”  He reached out for her elbow, guiding her to sit down.  “I’m going to get a doctor, okay?  You sit and rest.”

“Is… is he… dead?” she whispered.

Zeke looked back at the body on the bed.  He had grey, almost opaque skin, with veins protruding out of his arms.  One side of his face was sunken in, where Zeke had hit him.  His mouth was smeared crimson with the blood of his mother.  The one eye that was still visible, was no longer blue, but red in colour.  Whatever that ‘thing’ was, it was
not
his father anymore, and it definitely
was
dead.

“Yeah, Ma.  I’m sorry.  I had to…  I had to make him stop.”

“I know, baby.  I know.”  She patted his hand, as tears careened down her face.

“I need to get a doctor for your arm, Ma.”

“Wait.”  She looked up, scared.  “We can’t do that.”

“Ma, look at it!  There’s a hole in your arm!  There’s blood everywhere.  I don’t know what to do!  How to fix it!”

“Zeke.  Baby, calm down and think for a minute,” she said calmly, as the situation sunk in.  “
They
told us he was dead.  No-one will believe that he just sat up and… and bit me.”

“They have to believe us, it’s the truth!”

“Would you believe it?”  She turned her head away, coughing.

Zeke frowned. 
Would
he believe it?  She was right.  They
would
sound crazy.  “What do we do?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  But we can’t stay here.”

“What about…?”  He motioned to the bed again.

“There’s nothing we can do for him now, son.”  She sniffed, composing herself. Her main priority now, was saving Zeke.  “I need you to rip a strip off his sheet and wrap it around my arm.  We need to stop the bleeding if we’re going to get out of here.”

Zeke hurried over to the foot of the bed, trying to avoid seeing the staring red eye.  He carefully ripped a couple of strips off the sheet and wound them around Mary’s arm.

“Good, now tie a knot.  Make it nice and tight.”  She winced as he did as she asked.

“Sorry, is it too tight?”

“No, it’s fine.  I’ll be fine.”  She looked at him, with determination in her eyes.  He could see that she was lying though.  Her face had drained of all colour, she had lost too much blood already.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

“I don’t really have much choice, do I?”  She offered a small smile, before she was racked with another coughing fit.

“Here, lean on me, I can help.”

“You’re such a good boy.”  She reached up and stroked his face.  He looped his arm under hers and around her back, to support her.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yep.”  She stood, shakily.  Zeke shifted his grip so he could support more of her weight.

“Is there a back door?”

“No, I don’t think so.  We’re going to have to walk out the front.”

“But…”

“Listen, my husband just died.  They’re not going to stop us.  Just make sure you cover my arm with yours, like you’re consoling me.”

“Okay.”  He gathered her in his arms, and guided her to the exit.  He paused, letting her cough, before opening the door.  He stuck his head out, looking both ways to see if anyone was coming.  “Coast is clear.”

Mary nodded.  She shuffled her feet along with Zeke.  Her body was hunched over and shaking.  She began to sob, quietly at first, gradually increasing in volume, the closer they got to reception.  Zeke pulled her in tighter, resting his head on hers.

“It’s going to be okay, Ma,” he said, rubbing her shoulder.  “We’re going to be okay.”

Mary had been right, people were giving them a wide berth.  The front door was within his sights.  Only a few more steps.

“Mary?  What’s happened?”  Somebody stepped in front of them.  “You look terrible.”  Mary sniffed, looked up with wet eyes, and began to wail.  A heart-breaking sound that would haunt Zeke for the rest of his life.  He pulled himself together and held her tighter, stepping around the wide-eyed do-gooder.

“Sorry, I need to get her home.”  They shuffled out the door, making a beeline for their car.

The clouds had turned black and the first drops of rain were beginning to fall.  Zeke unlocked the passenger door, helping Mary to climb in.  He strapped her seat belt on for her, careful not to knock her arm.  Blood was already beginning to seep through the make-shift bandage.  He was worried that she wouldn’t make it.

“We can re-dress it back home,” she said, drawing his attention back to her face.  “I’m feeling a little faint, so you might have to do it for me.”

“I’ve never fixed anything that big before.  What do I need to do?”

“Start driving and I’ll talk you through it.”

Her voice was raspy and weak.  He had to strain to listen to her words.  He kept thinking about his father.  Had he been like this before he had slipped into the coma?  Every coughing fit seemed to deplete her energy, and she was getting paler by the second.

Another thought occurred to him.  If she was sick too, did that mean he was next?  Was it safe for them to be alone on the farm?

And what if they turned into ‘flesh eaters’ like his father?  He had seen enough zombie movies to know one when he saw one.  He just never imagined he would actually witness a ‘real’ one.  They were meant to be a work of fiction! 
Not
something you watch your father become.

He looked at Mary.  She was fading fast.

What if she turned?

What would he do then?

“W
e need to get out of here!” Zuckerman yelled at Chad over the chaos on the bus.  He grabbed his shirt and yanked him down the aisle.

“We can’t just leave them!”

“We can’t do anything for them, man, we have to save ourselves!”

Chad hesitated briefly before joining Zuckerman as they ran from the bus.  The screams of their team mates following them.  Chad fought his instincts to turn back and try to help, but he knew that Zuckerman was right.  Their only hope, was to get far away.

“Down here!”  He led them through a field of corn towards a farmhouse. “They won’t see us in here.”

Stopping to catch his breath, Chad bent over, hands on knees.

“What happened in there?!” Zuckerman demanded.

“What?  How the hell should I know what that was?” Chad asked incredulously.

“You were with him on the bus, did he say anything to you?”

“Yeah, he told me he was planning to chow down on all of us!” his voice full of sarcasm.  “Of course he didn’t fucking say anything!” he yelled.  “I have no idea what the hell that was!  I’ve never seen anything like that in my life!  That shit’s for the movies!”

“You’re telling me!”

Calming down a little, Chad stood, looking back towards the bus.

“Did you see who else got away?”

“I don’t know, man.  I was focusing on getting us out of there.”

“I can’t believe he just… I mean… Fuck!  How is this even possible?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe his steroids sent him crazy.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.  He was definitely hopped up, but could they really make you… eat your friends?”

Zuckerman started walking towards the farmhouse.

“Let’s think this through.  What do we know?  Was he sick before he got on the bus?”

“Nah, I saw him coming outta the supermarket.  He was pissed, but he was fine.”

“So he just suddenly came down with some… disease?”

“Yeah, I guess.  He got all sweaty and his eyes were bloodshot, they almost looked like they were changing colour.”

“His skin was kinda grey too.”

“Yeah, and then he had that coughing fit and said he couldn’t breathe.  And then he passed out.”

Zuckerman began pacing.  “I’m just gonna say it, man.”  He pulled his cap off, raking his hand through his hair.  “You know it, and I know it.  There’s no other explanation.  He’s a freakin’ zombie!  He died and came back to life and started biting people!”

“Yeah, but how?  I mean, why haven’t we heard about this?” Chad agreed.

“Maybe he’s the first?”

“Just out of the blue, turns into a zombie?  I’m not buyin’ it.  It had to have come from somewhere.”

They started walking again.  The farmhouse was only a few hundred metres away.  Zuckerman pulled Chad down behind a nearby tractor.

“We should be careful.  We don’t know how far spread this is.  For all we know, this place could be over-run too.”

“Or they could help us.”

“Okay, assuming that they aren’t zombies themselves, you honestly think complete strangers are going to believe that our team mate turned into one and started attacking people?”

“We don’t have much choice.”

Zuckerman pointed to the barn.

“We should find some weapons and go back.  We might be able to save some of them.”

Chad frowned, contemplating it.  He nodded, crouching low.  They ducked back into the cornfields, keeping low to the ground.  They edged their way closer, watching out for the occupants of the farm.

“Okay, it looks all clear.  Ready?” Chad asked.  Zuckerman nodded.  “One, two, three!”  They ran the one hundred metres to the barn doors, silently praying for them to be unlocked.  They were in luck.  Squeezing through, they pulled the door closed behind them, scoping the place out.

“Over there,” Chad whispered, pointing at a row of garden tools.  Chad grabbed a garden fork and shovel.  He then looked on the workbench to find some smaller weapons they could use too.  He found a rusty pair of secateurs, a trowel and a hammer.  Zuckerman had found his own selection of tools and was securing a tool belt around his waist.

“I can carry more this way.”

“Good idea.”

They loaded the tool belt up with as many ‘weapons’ as they could.  Chad shoved the hammer in his back pocket and swung the garden fork over his shoulder, handing Zuckerman the shovel.  With one final sweep of the place, they stealthily made their way back out of the barn, and towards the road.

Staying hidden in the cornfields, they silently crept along the roadside, until they were parallel with the bus.  The screams had died down now.  A low moaning could be heard, but it sounded as though it was heading away from them.

“The element of surprise is our best shot here,” Chad whispered.  “No matter what, we stick together, okay?”

“Okay.”

Slipping out of the safety of the fields, they inched closer to the bus.  One of their team mates lay on the road beside the door, one side of his face ripped clean off, chunks torn from his arms and torso.  Chad fought off the bile that was rising in his throat.  He attempted to find a pulse on his fallen friend, but there was nothing.  They were too late.

Turning their attention to the bus, they eased up the steps.  Zuckerman poked his head around the corner to see what they were dealing with.  Ross was nowhere to be seen.

“I think it’s safe,” he whispered, stepping into the aisle.

“Aaaaaarrrrgggghhhhhh!”  Billy came hurtling towards them, his bag held over his head, ready to swing.

“Whoa!  Billy!  It’s me!  It’s Z!”  Zuckerman leaned back, holding his arms up to deflect the impact.

Billy stopped, his bag still raised.  “Zuckerman?  Did you get bit?” he questioned, grabbing his arms and inspecting them.

“No, we got out before he got the chance.  Did you?”

“No, I hid in the back.”  His face crumpled as he recalled the details.  “I panicked.  I just hid and let him… eat our friends.”  He punched the chair next to him.  “He ate them!  He actually chewed and swallowed, like… like they were a piece of fucking steak!”

“Did anyone else… turn?”

“Turn?”

“Yeah, you know, like Ross.”

“Only Joe, but you must’ve seen that.  It happened straight away.  Between the two of them, they got their teeth into nearly everyone.”

“Well if zombie movies are anything to go by, we probably don’t have long before these guys turn into flesh-eaters too,” Zuckerman said, motioning behind him at the other players.  “Anyone else not been bitten?” he asked the rest of the bus.  He was answered with a low moan.

“We should check those guys first.”  Chad moved down the aisle to the source of the voice.  He stopped midway down, crouching.  “Coach?  You okay?”  Another groan.  “Guys, Coach’s still alive!”