Pulse (12 page)

Now it did. Now it was going to affect all of them.

A bus driven by one of the crazy infected barreled off the highway and rammed through a grocery store. It was packed with more infected, from a mental institution no less, armed to the teeth with wicked makeshift weapons. After slaughtering everyone in the store they dispersed into the city, leaving droves of wounded and potentially infected people in their wake.

Martial law was enacted within hours of the event. There was a 24 hour curfew; anyone on the streets would be detained or dispatched. Dom knew what that meant for most people who weren't lucky enough to have food storage or supplies.

"It won't work," Brian insisted as they wolfed down their rations of Chef Boyardee. "People might stay inside for a day at most, but then they'll get antsy. Or hungry. Or something will drive them out, but once they're all out it will be even worse than it is now."

Dom and Chelsea were silent. His food tasted too metallic and congealed, its color too red. Brian was right about one thing. Since the curfew had been enacted, people quieted down. The fighting in the strip mall dwindled to nothing. The neighborhood was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

But what?

"We need to decide what the plan is," Chelsea said.

"Meaning?" Brian was rearing for a fight. Dom noticed the more scared his friend was, the more he tried provoking Chelsea.

"Well, are we going to try and wait things out here or make a run for the country?"

"God, Chelsea! This isn't a movie! If we leave we're going to get shot!" Brian pointed his fork at her. “You’re so fucking stupid. ‘Make a run for the country.’ You’re acting like we have some glorious place to go to.”

"Stop it. Both of you." Dom was impressed by the strength of his own voice. They both shut up, but the tension was heavy in the air. "Brian, you're right. Chelsea, you're also right. If we go out there we risk getting killed by infected people, the police,
and
anyone else. But if we stay here, we risk being surrounded by thousands of potentially infected people. There's nothing between us and the world except our front door."

Brian poked at
the remaining scraps of his ravioli. "Like I was saying, we don’t have a plan for leaving the apartment. I'm not sure where we'd go if we left. We don't know anyone who has a cabin or anything. We don't have the right gear to backpack into the wilderness or the know-how."

He was trying to be helpful, so Dom gave him an encouraging smile and nod. "Good point. We'd have to drive for miles on the freeway before even hitting places not so densely populated. I guess the question is, what do we do to make it safe here? Chelsea, any thoughts?"

"Find out who is still here. Are you on friendly terms with anyone? Maybe we should invite Sadie and her kid in here. Pool resources and start forming a group. We could block the front door somehow?" Chelsea stared at her food, then added, "But we have to have a way to get out still. If our plan is to stay here, we at least need to come up with an escape plan. Especially with what’s going on outside."

"I don't agree with grouping up with people. What if they don't have food or water? Then they're just using ours and reducing our chances of surviving," Brian said.

As much as Dom loved Chelsea, he had to agree with Brian. Chelsea had a big heart, but it was definitely going to get her killed if she wasn't careful. "I think we should shove some furniture in the front entrance downstairs. We don't have the tools to board it up, but maybe if we push the lobby furniture in front of it that will help."

"What about everyone else?"

Brian huffed and stood, taking his dish to the sink. “Screw everyone else. They should be glad we’re taking action.”

Dom leaned over, placing his hand on the small of her back. "I know you want to help, but I think it's better if we don't advertise how much we have. We can find out who is still here and who needs help, then go from there. Okay?"

Chelsea nodded. "I guess. You're the one who calls the shots, right? Unofficial leader of whatever this is."

"Don't be like that, Chels. I'm only trying to be a middle ground for all of us."

Another nod, but she was shutting down. She did that a lot. Dom knew all girls did. When they got pissed they were quiet, the only words uttered from their lips, ‘Fine’ or ‘Okay.’ He knew he wasn't the bad guy, but she sure as hell made him feel like it.

"Let's handle the door first while things are quiet outside," Dom said. "On the way up we'll scout out whoever is left. I have a feeling there aren't that many. Most people seemed to try and jump ship a few days ago."

"Is this the point where one of us plays bitch and has to stay behind to guard the stuff?"

"It won't be me," Chelsea spat at Brian.

"For the last time; you two need to quit it the fuck out. Understood?"

Brian joined Chelsea in her quiet mood for the rest of the day. Dom was quickly growing tired of being the only emotionally stable person in the group, and the only one willing to negotiate. He was doing the best he could. At least they followed his commands, which made their tasks a little easier.

The double doors into the small apartment building were easy to barricade. The lobby area had a battered couch and coffee table they laid vertically against the doors. It was heavy, taking all of their combined strength to get it into place. Once they were done, Dom felt safer.

He hadn't been on the first level in days. Looking out at street level was unsettling. There were blood smears on the ground and litter everywhere. A few mangled cars blocked the road to their right. Dom risked staying at the window a little longer to peer down the left for Brian's car. He told him to pay extra to use the closed off parking lot on the side of the building, but he refused. He was going to regret it.

The windshield had a mess of cracks radiating from multiple impact areas. The tires appeared to be flat. Even if they wanted to go somewhere, they didn't have a ride to do it.

Chelsea was peering through the window on the other side of the door. "I think I see someone in the salon."

Dom turned his focus to the salon in the strip mall. A man and woman were walking into it. He walked a little strangely, but other than that the couple appeared normal
.
Dom figured they were seeking shelter in the salon because of the curfew.

"Let's close the blinds and get out of here." Dom dropped the blinds on his window and went to Chelsea. "Don't want people to see us if we can avoid it."

They searched the first three floors for people and discovered only three families remained. Sadie and her kid and two Mexican families that spoke barely a few words of English. They were nice, but only long enough to open the door and say they didn't need help. Sadie appeared to be in good shape. She was glad Brett never came back and, although her son was afraid, they didn't have TV or internet so they hadn't seen the atrocities. She was keeping up to date through a phone call a day with her mother. And keeping track of what was going on outside.

He was envious. If Sadie
had constant access to the news like they did and saw all the horrific, terrible things, she wouldn’t be so upbeat.

Dom hesitantly asked if she needed anything, only because it would be hell to pay from Chelsea if he didn't. She said no and thanked them. Dom felt Brian's sigh of relief. He was relieved, too.

Sadie was good at keeping a happy face even when everything in her life was at its worst. As Dom asked if she was okay, she told them just enough of the truth to make the lies easier to say. The truth was, she
did
know what was going on. She had a smart phone—God, she did have a smartphone! What did they take her for?—and read all the updates and watched all the gruesome videos. She knew exactly what was going on.

And the real truth was, if Dom wanted to enter the apartment under any circumstances, and neared Jon’s room, they would’ve smelled it. They would’ve known an infected was in the
building.

Sadie paid an extra hundred dollars a month to have one of the apartments that had a small patio.  She had a green thumb and loved to grow things, so she’d maximized the space for a tiny year
-round garden.

Jon
loved to play outside. They had a bird bath and he liked to play with his action figures in it. He didn’t understand why she said it was off limits, and while Sadie was making lunch he slipped out to play.

She heard him scream and when she came out, saw him holding onto a thin worm trying to burrow its way into his
calf. It was impossible to grip. Her nails dug into it, blood and pus seeping out from the crescent shape they left.

It only took seconds to pull it out and toss it over the balcony. She carried Jon in, pouring rubbing alcohol into the wound despite his ear-piercing screams. His crying died down as she bandaged it with a
Tranformers
themed bandage and she rocked him in her arms.

Her own tears flowed down her cheeks. This meant her son was infected. The worm hadn’t gotten in, but wasn’t that all it took? Just a bit of contact? She put Jon in his bed, bringing the mini
DVD-player in so he could watch a movie. Eventually he fell asleep, his breath deep.

Then the sickness. The coma. The sweat.

Jon was her only child. The only good thing in her life, even if it came from a bad decision with a bad man. Whatever happened to him, she would be there.

She would be his mom.

Gary LoPiccolo wanted to add the pretty girl from the apartment to his flock of hens. She would fit right in with the other ladies. Gary kept a tidy coop in the salon across from the apartment. He figured she'd be very happy there once she got to know the other girls.

He stroked the shotgun he'd taken from the dead man outside. It was a good find. It kept the ladies in line when they tried to fly away. Although he wasn't quite sure how many bullets were in it—do shotguns have bullets?—whenever he waved it at them they shrieked then quieted down.

There was Ashley, Susan, Angela, Tiffany, and Heather. He hadn't named one of the girls yet, but she looked sort of like a boy so he thought Jordan might be fitting. He found her trying to scavenge supplied in the sports store next door all by herself. A girl is no good without a flock or a man to keep them, so he got her to come next door.

Gary was good at playing nice, just until he got what he wanted.
He knew getting on the bus at Greenwood was risky. Everyone on the bus was crazy before the wormies got them. They talked to themselves. Sometimes they even hurt themselves. They did bad things. The worms made them even worse, so much that they made bad decisions that got them caught.

But not Gary. He felt a little odd since he got sick, but really he had a great sense of clarity about what he wanted and how to get it.

He knew he had to wear glasses so they couldn't see his eyes, which were a little gross, he had to admit. He washed the ooze that dripped from his mouth and made sure his clothes looked nice. It took a lot to stop the involuntary jerking of his limbs, but the girls were so afraid they didn't notice.

Madison saw a grocery store and started shrieking about needing a pregnancy test and ran the entire bus right into it. After the dust settled and he reoriented,
Gary couldn’t stop himself from wasting time killing and raping everyone in sight like the others. Once he got a hold of himself and remembered he had a plan, he quietly slipped away and walked until he found a nice little place to build up his coop.

Being free, it seemed the logical thing to do was to finish the work he’d started before he got caught. Gary didn’t know all the details, but the world was changing. There were many people like him and they were doing whatever they wanted. No one would catch Gary. Not when there were more important things going on.

It didn’t take long before he gathered the six ladies. It was when he was leading Jordan into the coop that he spotted the girl in the apartment building.

She was looking outside right towards him—with a look of longing, perhaps?—when a man pulled her aside and they were gone. Gary studied them for another day and pinpointed their location to be in an apartment on the fourth floor.

He had to have her. She was pretty. She was obviously captive, abducted by those wimpy boys she was with. She wanted to escape that building and join him.

Susan was silent. Normally she was always weeping. She was on her side facing the wall, her wrists swollen and raw where they were tied to a chair bolted in the ground. Susan had been so pretty when he first found her only a few hours earlier, but she was very fragile. Gary had a special place in his heart for Susan, so he loved her more than the other girls. Her body felt good in his hands. He felt good inside of her. He'd loved her many times since he found her the previous day. Maybe he did it too much?

He poked her with the gun. "Susan, wake up." Again, harder this time. The other girls whimpered. "I said wake up. I said wake up
now
."

Then Gary smelled something. Something sweet. Familiar. He flipped her body over and noticed her shallow breathing. The yellow sweat beginning to trickle down her forehead.