Rotten (9 page)

Moonshine ran forward and rolled a large man away and a boy’s head popped up.  The boy scooted backwards in the space made and pulled his legs free of a woman in a blood-saturated beige dress. 

              “Are you hurt,” Moonshine asked, helping the kid step over the bodies.

              “I don’t think so,” he said, looking down at the stains on his clothes, and feeling his body with his hands.  “I fell first when they started shooting, my dad landed on top of me, and then that woman fell on my legs.  They missed me, but I’m glad you guys came along, there is no way I could lift my dad, he weighs like three hundred pounds.”  He looked down at his father and wiped his eyes roughly, swallowing hard.  “Fuckers killed my dad.”

              Moonshine nodded.  “Let’s get out of here.” 

              “Wait.” The boy reached down to the dead man and pulled a wallet free.  “Bye, Dad,” he whispered, wiped his cheeks again, and looked up at Moonshine.  “Where are we going?”

              We ran back to our group with the boy.  He said his name was Will Statler, he was twelve years old, and then he quickly told us his story.  He and his dad were walking out of a movie theater when it happened and the people started going crazy and attacking.  He said they made it to their car, out of Blacksport, and back to their home in Peachdale, where his dad immediately called the police.  The next thing he knew soldiers were knocking on the door and said they were evacuating everyone.  They went, thrilled to be rescued, and were held in the school gymnasium until an hour earlier when they were loaded on the buses.  He said that throughout the day, more and more people were brought in, some were stopped on their way to Arlington, and others had been pulled from their homes.  “We thought we were getting out when they loaded us on the bus, none of us thought they were going to kill us.”  He finished and looked down at his bloody clothes.  “Why are they killing us?”

              “They can’t have any witnesses,” Rotten said.  “They did this to us, it’s some sort of experiment I think.  Did you or your dad take that shot for the mosquito disease?”

              “No.”  Will shook his head.  “It wasn’t required for us, just for Blacksport and Freemont.”

              “It’s really real, guys,” Rotten said.  “Let’s go.” 

              “I don’t suppose y’all have any clothes that will fit me.”  Will looked down at his bloody attire, and back up to us, his eyes pleading.

              “If you don’t mind girl clothes, I think we’re about the same size.” Princes looked him up and down, and walked to the Escalade for her pack.  She pulled out a pair of worn jeans and a dark sweatshirt.  “This isn’t girly stuff,” she said, handing the clothes over. 

              “Thanks.”  Will took the clothes and stepped around the Jeep to change out of our sight.  

              We got back in the cars, Will sliding in the back of the Jeep beside Moonshine, and started out again, moving slowly without any lights, despite the fact that it was now fully dark.   A couple helicopters passed overhead and I glanced at the clock in the dash, it was just after seven. “I guess they’re starting to get out of here, I guess their experiment is nearly done.” 

              “I wonder how many times they’ve done it before and when it’s going to go national,” Rotten said.

              “Do you really think they’ve done it before,” I asked.

              “Definitely, no doubt in my mind.  I’ve been thinking about some news articles that I read in the last couple months, didn’t think much of them at the time, just that they were weird for some reason I couldn’t put my finger on, but now I think it was zombie test one and two.  One was out west somewhere, I can’t remember which state, but according to the article a wild fire - like the fastest wild fire ever recorded - moved through a small isolated town and razed the place, they said there were no survivors.  There was a lot of talk of the sudden winds and the like, but it’d never happened before and no one had a chance to escape. 

“The other one was in Texas, another small, isolated town, a bit higher population than the place out west, and this time it was a gas explosion.  And again there were no survivors, the number of the dead was in the hundreds, they said every house on the gas line blew up.  And funny enough, neither story got a lot of attention by the media, just a passing sentence on the scroll at the bottom of the screen.  I had to get online to find more info and there were only a couple articles.  Two whole towns disappear and there is barely any news, but if a celebrity says the wrong thing or is accused of being a racist it’s all we hear about.” 

              “Well we’re talking about a lot more people than a few hundred now,” I said and another helicopter passed above. 

              “I guess they’ve gotten cocky, they’ve already gotten away with it twice, so what the hell?  I wonder how they do it, or did it.  Do you think they set up a viewing area in one of the buildings downtown and watched us like mice in a lab?  They wouldn’t do all this if they couldn’t see what was happening.  Or do you think they watch from the cameras that are at every intersection?”

              “Both,” Highland said.  “The top dogs, the real monsters, wouldn’t be anywhere near this, they are sitting somewhere safe, on luxurious furniture, drinking liquor that we will never be able to afford, and watching it all unfold on a screen.  But some of their underlings are here for sure.  Someone is probably observing from the penthouse of the old Litchfield building and taking orders from the bigwigs and giving orders to the folks on the ground.”

              “Yeah, the Litchfield has a heliport on top,” Princess said.  “That building has always given me the creeps the way it looms over the town, it’s twice the size of the other buildings, and that glass walled penthouse is just wrong.” 

              “I bet it has a hell of a view, though.” I had often wondered what the view was like that high up, but Princess was right, it didn’t fit in with the surrounding buildings and looked completely out of place. 

              “It had a hell of a view last night,” Highland agreed.  “At any rate, I suspect they are getting the hell out of dodge on those helicopters and I think we were right about the twenty-four window before they push the button.”

              “Three hours,” Rotten said softly. 

“Do you think they’ll pull the fences and take the soldiers with them,” I asked.  “Or just leave them here to die?”

“No witnesses,” Highland said.  “I don’t know, it probably depends on their rank and clearance, I don’t think they’ll care about the grunts.”

“And they will be able to keep it a secret, too. You’d think in these days of the Internet it would be easy to get the word out, but I think it’s censored and controlled just as much as the TV,” Princess said.

“Even if we could spread the word, though, who would believe us?” Highland said.  “As Rotten said two towns disappeared and we didn’t hear a thing about it.  Besides, it sounds like a movie.”

“Maybe that is why they made so many zombie movies, predictive programming, training us how to behave and what to expect, and knowing that no one would believe a witness.  Hell, even if you had pictures and video, people would still think it was a movie clip,” Rotten said.  “How many hundreds of zombie movies have been made?  No one could have seen them all, we sure haven’t, and we’ve seen a lot.  No one would believe us, even with video.  About the only thing that would convince a person would be to see one, and even then they’d probably think it was an actor until it ripped someone’s guts out.”

“So if we manage to escape the zombies, the soldiers, the super futuristic fence, and the bomb, we’re still screwed.  If we manage to survive we have nothing to live for except to run, change our names, and hide out for the rest of our lives hoping to not drawn any attention and praying it doesn’t happen again in the next town we choose.  This sucks,” Princess said, and sighed. 

“Yep, we’re pretty much screwed,” I agreed.

We were all quiet for a while, the reality of our situation sinking in, and with one shock after another for the past twenty-four hours, I don’t even know how we kept our sanity.  And frankly, each shock seemed worse than the one before.  You expect, no, you know flesh-eating zombies will rip you to shreds, but you don’t expect fellow human beings to line you up and shoot you dead, especially those with jobs to protect and serve.  And it seemed pretty clear our lives as we knew them were over even if we were able to survive the next hours. 

“We should have grabbed us a couple zombies before we left, like that chick on
The Walking Dead
,” Princess said. “Then folks would have to believe us.”

“I don’t think there are any more zombies, I think they are probably all dead now.  We haven’t seen any today, except those few at the bank in the alcove this morning, so whatever was injected in them was probably on a timer just like the town.  And those weird stories we’ve been hearing about people cutting their guts out, and the bouncing guy in Pinecrest Estates were probably those whose body short-circuited the timer and they zombied out too early. 

“Think about it, a controlled zombie attack, with a clear beginning and end, and with no chance of it escaping would be the perfect weapon.  Let’s say you’re some general fighting on foreign ground, you could take over a whole country in days.  Or imagine it in the hands of some ruthless corporation.  The possibilities of what evil, selfish men could do with such a weapon are mind-boggling.”

“And in the end, people like us are nothing, just bugs to be stepped on and discarded.  Well, I’ve known that all my life,” Princess said bitterly.  Princess had been through more than I, or any of our friends, could comprehend.  At fourteen, our first time drunk, she told me she believed that perverts could see a sign on her head and sought her out.  She then started naming pedophiles from our school and town.  Teachers I liked and other well-known leaders in the local community.  I wanted, even in my drunkenness, to call her a liar, but I knew she wasn’t, she had no reason to make up such a story.

All in our group had been protected in one way or another, I had a trust fund, and even though my own father passed away when I was young my mother had always been a solid foundation.  Rotten’s parents encouraged him in every way.  Moonshine’s folks were good country people and even though they were poor, Moonshine had never wanted for anything as a kid.  And Highland had Mrs. Williams, who before the apocalypse seemed like a dumb-blonde at times, but after … wow! 

And then there was Princess.  Yes, it’s her legitimate name.  Like I said, I’ve seen her birth certificate.  She didn’t know her birth parents and had been in foster care since she was a toddler; I met her in third grade when she moved into the neighborhood.  Her foster parents gave her generous curfew times, more interested in the monthly check, than parenting, and Princess was basically on her own.  She’d often turn up at my house at dinnertime, and we had more sleepovers than I could count.   

“Well, what the hell are we supposed to do?  It’s the end of the world and we’re the only ones who know it.”  I said.

Mrs. Williams spoke softly on the radio, “Pull into the trees, Wayne, we’re getting close to the highway.”

Highland followed, and parked beside her.  We slid out quietly and listened for a moment before stepping onto the path. 

“The road is just over that rise,” Mrs. Williams said.  “We can’t see it from here, but we’re at the end of the orchard and we’re going to have to get on that road for a couple miles and we’re going to be in the open.

Sully, Moonshine, and Will ran to the top of the rise with the binoculars and quickly returned reporting that the road was deserted and quiet.  We were just climbing back in the vehicles when we heard a sound, faint and off in the distance, but distinctive. 

“It’s a fucking drone,” Rotten said.  “Run!”

We ran in the woods, sheltered by tree trunks, and the noise grew louder.  I couldn’t see it overhead, but unless they have created flying lawn mowers, a drone flew over us.  Just as it passed we heard three large explosions from the orchard behind us where I assumed they were getting rid of the buses and dead bodies.  We listened to the noise fade away, and then heard another explosion in distance.  We stood slowly, and gathered back together.

“Getting rid of evidence,” Rotten said.