Rise (3 page)

Taking stock here, we have discovered several weeks’ worth of food, mostly frozen or canned, and a generator in the garage that looks in good repair. There is no sign of further weapons, other than a fire-axe I found by the woodpile outside. There is no car either. I searched the body of the old man and found car keys. But there was no car outside, which is curious. We also set about reinforcing the windows and doors with plywood. We might be here a while, and if we get any more undead visitors I want to be prepared.

I haven't had a chance to update until now, mainly because I didn't think it was safe to until we reached somewhere secure. There are three of us now. Darren is 15, and is a smart kid who showed up at the cabin we were in at about 4 a.m. on the 27th. He was driving a totally trashed Honda Civic, and he stopped right outside the front door and tried to get in. We had heard him coming (Sarah has been a real light sleeper since this started) and when he stepped up on the front porch I opened the door and pointed the gun at him. He just about shit his pants when he saw the gun barrel in his face, and started babbling about not shooting him and that
they
were right behind him. I grabbed his arm and dragged him inside. Once I had the door secure again we killed the lights and I looked out the windows into the darkness. Sarah took the kid into the kitchen, shushing him several times, while I tried to get my eyes readjusted to the darkness.

At first I didn't see anything, but after about ten minutes I finally did. Sure enough, the kid had somehow led a small group of shambling dead things right to us. I wasn't totally sure in the dark, but it looked like about 5 or 6 of them. They were back by the main road that led to the cabin, and were walking unsteadily towards us.

I had no idea what to do. Sarah and I had talked about it, and decided that if it came to it, we would try not to use the gun for fear that the noise would attract other undead. We saw a report on CNN that they were attracted to the sight and sound of living humans, so we went up the stairs and stayed quiet.

Darren told us he had been traveling with his family when the dead had risen, and they had hidden in a hotel in Edmonton while the chaos took that city as well. Finally they had realised that they were going to be trapped if they stayed, and took their car and tried to flee. Only Darren made it out. His parents and brother were killed by those things a day before he showed up with us. He's kind of in shock, Sarah says, and she's doing her best to look after him.

We got no sleep that night, and by morning there were ten of them outside, walking back and forth, thumping on the walls, or investigating the garage. One of them spotted me looking through a crack in the plywood and got
really
excited, trying to pull the plywood down. His expression didn’t change, but his activity level went way up. We had a few scary minutes, but the plywood held, and the dead dumbass went back to stalking the porch.

We could smell them too. The stench of decay was so strong it made us choke.

By the evening there were 15, and we started to get the idea that bugging out would be a great idea. I came up with a plan, but we waited until morning again to implement it. We slept in shifts, with either myself or Sarah always awake and holding the gun. We packed all the food and water we could, plus some flares, extra clothes, and things like knives and the fire-axe, into some backpacks and set them by the front door. Then I went upstairs to the back porch, a good ten feet above the ground there, and opened the door and started hollering. Sure enough, those dumb dead things came around to see what the problem was. As soon as they saw me they all let up this god-awful noise. And the smell! I gagged, and had to retreat inside for a moment. When I went back out they were all still moaning and waving arms at me, but I was safe well above them. Sarah called saying that they were all away from the cars out front now. I counted seventeen of them.

I ran back down, and as soon as they heard me coming, Sarah and Darren opened the door and grabbed gear. We all three ran out to the Explorer and got in, throwing the packs in back. By the time the undead realised we were outside I had the engine going and was backing away down the drive. As I turned around in the yard one of them came around the corner of the house and started to half-run after us. It was the fastest I had seen one move so far, but it was nowhere near quick enough to catch us. We drove back to the main highway.

We headed south again, away from Jasper. My plan was to make it to the Trans-Canada Highway and go farther into the mountains. We didn't see anything but the odd abandoned car and some mountain goats for a while. It was eerie, but we made good time. The endless parade of vehicles seemed to have vanished. When we got to the Lake Louise turnoff there was a convoy of half a dozen cars and trucks about to head the way we had just come from. We stopped and talked to them, and we traded news. They had come from Calgary, and were the last living things to leave the city, as far as they knew. The place was littered with the walking dead now, they told us. We told them about Jasper being overrun. Sarah, Darren, and I talked it over, and we decided we would continue with our plan. We left the convoy still talking about what they were going to do, and headed for the Trans Canada. We stopped by another Explorer, abandoned on the road, and I siphoned the tank out into ours, and got more than half a tank worth that way. Sarah didn't even blink at the long rubber hose I kept in the back of the truck.

We got to Field in British Colombia, and stopped at a rest stop. We're still here now. We pulled off the road a bit and parked the car behind a garage. The whole town is empty. We haven't seen or heard anything moving around since we got here, and we haven't been brave enough to go exploring. Darren is creeped out, and Sarah wants to raid the clinics here before we leave. It's amazing how something as simple as the dead returning to life can completely turn a normally law abiding paramedic such as her into a B&E artist! Enough for now, we have to decide what to do.

We broke into a doctor's office yesterday, and Sarah pointed out the important things to take. We stocked up on bandages, suture kits, and a few insulin shots (just in case), plus plenty of things that I just had no idea what they were for. All three of us were quiet and spooked, and we all agreed it felt like we were being watched, though we still haven't seen anyone around town. We also went over to a grocery store, and pretty much cleaned out as much in the way of canned goods as we could find. It wasn't much. The place was nearly empty when we went in.

We've decided to leave Field as soon as I am done this entry. We find it just too creepy here, and want to move on.

While we were here we turned on a TV in the clinic, and caught the last CNN transmission out of New York. A reporter there had retreated to the roof of one of the buildings with a camera, and was aiming it around the city. Smoke was visible from several places, and a fire was burning at street level right below the tower she was in. She then reported that the CDC had sent a report about how fast the infection had spread. Within two weeks it was worldwide. It also worked quickly. A person contracting the virus could expect to die within 24 hours, following a series of flu and stroke-like symptoms. Within 20 minutes the body re-animates, and the new zombie immediately attempts to kill and devour the first living human it sees. The zombies are pretty stupid, exhibiting no problem-solving ability, and appear to have bad balance, poor sense of smell, and the IQ of a drowned cat. The reporter then told the audience she herself had been bitten, showed us the wound on her arm (it looked terrible…bits of flesh were missing), and reported that her symptoms were about on par with a very bad cold. She announced her intention to jump off the building, hoping that her fall would kill her and that her body would not reanimate due to sufficient injury from the impact with the ground. We watched in horrified fascination as she aimed the camera down at the street below, where thousands of the walking dead were milling about. The camera stayed that way for a few minutes while the reporter said her goodbyes, then it went black. A CNN logo screen came on, and we shut the TV off.

Time to go. We have fuelled up the truck, but I noticed it has a small oil leak. We may have to get a new car eventually. We are going to head towards Golden.

Golden was weird, but not because of the undead. To get there on the Trans-Canada Highway you have to drive down a long wandering road that loses hundreds of feet of elevation. To the north is a sheer cliff face, and to the south a precipitous drop, with the road clinging to the narrow space between. All the way down there are signs warning of falling rocks, and plenty of evidence that rocks do indeed fall on a regular basis, cleared away by highway crews before they become a problem. The liberal amount of smallish rocks scattered along the road all the way down told the story of how much importance this task had these days. We drove slowly to the bottom of the slope, and there lay the town ahead of us. When we arrived, a barricade had been placed across the highway, and about a dozen armed police and civilians stopped us. They asked us who we were, where we were going, and if any of us was infected. They were polite, asked if anyone needed medical attention, and then escorted us under guard past the barricade. We were taken to a rest stop/gas station where we were further questioned about what we had seen on the Trans Canada recently. After that we were all escorted back to the truck, through town to the other end of the highway, and out the barricade on the far side. They told us that while Golden was not unfriendly, it was closed. Nobody who didn't already live there was going to be allowed in unless they were injured. And if they were infected they'd be shot on sight.

After that we drove several more kilometers and then pulled over. On the empty stretch of highway we talked about where we'd go. The Explorer is a gas hog, so we know that won't last forever. We have limited food and water. Our ammunition is low, and we only have one weapon with any kind of range. After talking about it, none of us really had any ideas, but we all agreed we were not going to just give up.

We stopped for the night on a logging road. We ate cold canned soups, and took turns staying awake to keep a watch. I went first, Sarah took middle, and Darren took last. While I was up, I walked around the area the Explorer was in, listening and watching the road. I didn't hear a single other car, or see any lights. No aircraft went over. I saw a moving light way overhead, but I figure it was a satellite. I wonder how long they will last. I seem to remember the Space Station had crew in it. I wonder if they are still up there, watching.

In the morning we had a cold breakfast and talked some more about what to do. In the end we decided to make for Glacier National Park, and then Revelstoke, and see what conditions there were like. Hopefully we could find another vehicle to siphon the gas from soon.

About 20 km down the road we came upon a multi-vehicle accident. Six cars had managed to collide, and we couldn't tell where it had started. A silver Miata was upside down in the median, and looked like it had rolled a few times. Behind that was a red Ford Focus with a destroyed front end and four flat tires. The door was open, and glass was everywhere. Behind that were four more cars in similar condition. One, a blue Mustang, had been torn right in half, and another had burned. We could still see smoke coming from the wreckage.

Right on the ground in front of the Focus was a body, but it was so covered in blood that we couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. The body was bent oddly, legs sticking out at a strange angle, and Sarah said it looked like the spine was probably shattered. I stopped the truck about 20 meters back from the first car, and we just looked for a long time. Nothing moved, so we decided to check it out. I told Darren to get in the driver’s seat and come get us if anything happened. I took the rifle, made sure it was loaded, and led the way, Sarah following with the axe.

We cautiously came up to the first car, and I bent down to look inside. It was occupied, and the corpse in the driver's seat was looking right at me and struggling to get out of its seatbelt. I backed away quickly, and moved over to where Sarah was looking at the corpse on the street with the broken spine. Her face was pale, and she told me that this body had been partially eaten. She warned me not to look. I did though, and spent the next few minutes leaving my breakfast in the road. I have never seen anything like that, and I pray to God I never will again. I don't think he's listening though.

We moved on, and found that none of the other cars were occupied. One was an RCMP cruiser, but no officer was to be seen. There were bloody footprints leading away from a few of them, and near the back of the pileup we found another corpse, this one even worse than the partially eaten one we'd just seen. I think it was a woman, but I just couldn't be sure. There wasn't much beyond some bones, skin, and clothes left, and a huge swath of gore across the pavement. Tracks left the site, going away down the road in the direction we were going.

About then, Darren started honking the horn. I could have left my own skin behind when I looked back and saw one of those things walking towards us, arms outstretched and a hungry look in its eye. It only had one, the other was an empty socket, and blood and goop had leaked down onto his cheek. He looked about 22 or so, with those stupid baggy pants and a black punk rock t-shirt. The pants were caught on his feet now and were slowing him down. I called for Sarah to get behind me and I whipped the rifle up and shot at him when he was about twenty feet away. Missed completely, but the shot sure sounded loud out here. I fired again, and missed again. Adrenalin was doing wacky things to my responses. I took a breath, levered another shell into the chamber, and took aim. Dead guy was about ten feet away. I aimed right between his eyes and shot. He fell with a surprised look on his face. His head hit the pavement when he fell backwards, and he stopped moving. The smell hit us then, the awful rotting meat smell these things exude, and I nearly barfed again. Sarah turned around and told me that there were more behind us, and when I looked, they were there, six more about 250 feet away, just coming around the corner in the road. I guess they must have wandered away from the feast here, and heard us arrive and were coming to investigate. I saw that they lurched along, shambled, but they were moving faster than I liked. One was in an RCMP uniform, so I guess that's what happened to the cop. I noticed he had a gun in a holster at his side. We retreated to the Explorer, and I handed Sarah the rifle. We quickly decided we wanted that gun, but weren't sure how risky it would be to try to shoot all these things. When they were just starting to wander through the wreckage on the highway we backed up another 250 feet down the road. I saw that they were not all staying together. The former officer was in fact leading the way, hardly shuffling at all, but in no way as coordinated as he had been in life. Once he had gotten far enough ahead, about 50 feet ahead of the following corpse, I drove towards him slowly, and stopped when we were about 25 feet from him. Sarah steadied the rifle and shot him in the face. I saw the bullet go in, making a wet slapping sound, but he didn't drop! He staggered a bit, but kept coming. She shot again, this time a little too high, and missed. And again, and this time the bullet passed into the skull, and he dropped like a sack of rocks. I jumped out while Sarah covered me, and ran to the body. With Sarah yelling to hurry up, I grabbed the gun out of the holster, grabbed an extra clip that I saw on his belt, and sprinted back to the truck about 10 feet ahead of the next of those things. We reversed another 200 feet or so, and I stopped to hand Sarah the handgun. She passed the rifle to Darren. After that I drove forward again, and wove between the walking dead. One of them got too close, and we knocked him down under the passenger side. Then we were home free, around the pile-up, and off down the road. The gas tank was on a third of a tank, but I wasn't stopping to siphon a tank there, no way in hell.