The Week of the Dead (6 page)

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Authors: Viktor Longfellow

BOOK: The Week of the Dead
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H
arrison and little Paul began to pack everything they could find: food, flashlights, some underwear, while Phil went around the house looking for weapons. Phil had always collected sports memorabilia. Standing in his Pittsburg Steelers jersey, he put on some shoulder pads and a helmet. Harrison turned the corner to find a modern-day knight getting ready for the fight of his life. Harrison came into the room as Phil took a knee like Arthur praying to his Excalibur. Phil’s Excalibur was that of a 1920 Babe Ruth signature baseball bat. Harrison cleared his throat to question what Phil was doing. “This bat is worth more than my car. Hopefully, it will be more useful than my car. Are we ready?” Phil asked as he put some knee guards over his pants.

“I have nothing in my room. I had all my important things on me from this morning,” Harrison said as he stuck his hands in his pockets to find the pill bottle. “What’s the plan?”

Phil took a knee as they met Paul in the kitchen. “Paul, listen. We’re in a bit of a pickle here. There are bad people here, and they are trying to hurt us. Do you understand?”

Paul nodded. “Like the people on the TV? But the TV has the superheroes. Why don’t they help us?” Paul asked in his small childish voice.

“Well, they only become superheroes because of situations like this. Bad things happen, and the people who survive it become superheroes. Are we going to become superheroes?” Paul nodded excitedly. “All right. Grab your things.

“The plan is that we make it down to the garage. Get in the car, head south. My ex–brother-in-law has a hunting cabin that is secluded.”

“How far?” Harrison asked.

“Smokey Mountains,” Phil said as he slung a bag over his shoulder pads. “Well, that’s better than here. Elevators are a bad idea. We’ll have to take the stairs. I’m in front with Paul in the middle and you bringing up the back. Take this,” Phil said as he handed Harrison a golf club. The trio crept out of the apartment door trying to be silent and vigilant. The banging on Mr. Harrison’s door caught them by surprise.

“What about them?” Paul said loudly in the silent hallway.

“Sh! Paul, those are the bad people trying to trick us into opening the door. If you see anyone, don’t make a sound. OK?” Paul nodded silently as he brushed his backpack against the wall, making a scraping sound. “The stairs are this way.” Phil led them down the still lit hallway.

When the trio opened the stairwell door, the sun was streaming through a vent in the roof. Although the stairwell did not have artificial illumination, it needed it badly. “Creepy-shit staircase,” Phil whispered while searching his backpack for a flashlight. In the semidarkness, there were sounds of clanking and scratching noises that echoed through the vertical staircase reaching the ears of the men. Phil rolled his shoulders, brushing off the cool air that ran down his back. “
Nice and slowly
,” he told himself. The men were on the fifth floor. While walking down the stairs, Harrison hissed at the man in the football pads. “Listen.”

“No. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Don’t be a twat. There could be people still in this building.”

“They’ll figure the shit out for themselves. We’re not the army.” There was a banging noise coming from the darkness. With the open ventilation, the men couldn’t find the source with the echo.

It started with a single bang. Then it became numerous. Many hands were beating against the stairwell door on the third floor. The men were on the stairs above the third floor. They aimed their flashlights on the small viewport on the door. The beams of light connected with faces of scared faces banging against the door. Something was behind them, and they were desperate to open the door. “The door is jammed shut. Help me move this!” Harrison said.

“Fuck them!”

“Phil, quit being an asshole, and help me, or so help me God, I will beat you to death with this stupid club!” Phil had never heard this side of Mr. Harrison, so he was quick to be afraid of the old man.

There was a concrete trash can blocking the path of the door. Once used as a doorstop, it now became a deathtrap. “Push!” the men said together.

“Quick! He’s coming!” a voice said through the small glass window.

“One more time! Heave!”Phil shouted.

“Daddy! They’re coming from upstairs!” Paul shouted as he pulled on his father’s shirt. Braced against the door and pushing with their feet, Phil and Harrison looked up to see the bobbing heads in the darkness coming down the stairs from a few floors up.

“Ah! Fuck!” Phil said as he and Harrison pushed the hunk of concrete out of the door’s path.

Instantly a handful of people came flooding from the other side of the door. “Move it back!” a woman’s voice rang out! “He’s coming!”

“Fuck him! Run! Garage! Now!” Phil exclaimed as he was out of breath.

“Daddy!” Paul shouted as he was being carried away in the flood of people running down the stairs. Harrison slammed the door as he witnessed human shadows walking through the hallways covered in blood and stumbling toward the door. Instantly a bloody hand with long fingernails slammed against the glass window. The creature forced itself against the door and tried to look through the door window.

Second Base

Chapter 13

Monday 1300 CST

Kentucky

J
eff blinked his eyes a couple of times. His jaw hurt, but less than his neck from the position he was lying in. “What is your operation?” He heard someone say. He looked over to find Henry holding a bottle of water to Jeff.

“Ugh. Ugh. I…wrote a program that backs all the military data onto servers at another location.” Jeff said as he sat up, massaging his jaw.

“Sweet action, man,” Henry responded.

“What are you doing here?” Jeff asked.

“Situational Causality. They needed air support but didn’t want to alert the population,” Henry said tapping the controller of his modular.

“What the fuck does that mean? Why did you blow those people up? What the fuck is going on here? Is this a
coup
d’état
?” Jeff’s voice began to crack.

“Shut up. We’re being attacked. Now shut up, and sit still!” The man in the beret barked from the front seat.

“Hey, fuck you, man…what do you mean we’re being attacked?” Jeff’s tone changed.

“Look out the window,” Henry commented. Jeff turned to look out the window he was facing. He watched as they drove across alleyways watching people being attacked or eaten. Sometimes, the one called Collins would open fire from the SAW mounted on the roof. The two Humvees turned and went down a long path. Jeff continued to look out the window and not make any sound.

“This is Mobile 1. Base 2, come in,” the man in the beret called over the radio.

“Mobile 1, this is Base 2. What’s your ETA?”

“Base 2, about ten minutes. Is that friendly traffic we see?”

“Roger that Mobile 1. Civilians are flocking to this location. We are screening them and expanding the concrete borders. Copy.” The conversation ended with static.

“Welcome to Base 2,” the beret said. Jeff and Henry both leaned against the glass to see a line of vehicles as they passed under the gate that held the name “Fort Knox.”

The Garage

Chapter 14

Monday 1059 EST

Philadelphia

P
hil ran toward the screams of his son. His football pads were clanking with each heavy step. “Paul!” Harrison was left holding the door against the head forcing its way through. He found the golf club he had laid against the wall. With his body against the railing and his foot on the door, he watched as the bodies began to fall down the staircase. Mr. Harrison picked up the golf club, aimed it at the creature’s head like a samurai about to decapitate his enemy. He swung the golf club overhead until the creature stopped moaning. With his feat of adrenaline, Harrison wedged the door open with the trash can blocking the other side of the stairwell. Once the bodies began to pile up against the impromptu roadblock, Harrison began to sprint down the staircase looking for the man in the football pads. “Phil!”

Once Harrison had reached the bottom of the staircase, he smiled at the green “Exit” sign pointing in the direction of the garage. Harrison continued sprinting down the corridor. Harrison had a car one time; it was a 1984 Jaguar, a silver 4-door. Harrison loved that car. He had to sell it when he retired and relied on public transportation. Since his world was falling around him, he decided it would be a good time to do some things he always wanted to do, but first, he needed to get out of this apartment building. When he reached the door to the garage, he found Phil in his football gear wielding the Babe Ruth bat like a madman. Many of the creatures had found their way to the garage. Paul had cornered himself with Phil.

Four red-eyed human creatures were closing in on them. Phil’s sports training began to run in the head. He got in a three-point stance and charged at the interceptors. The first one he speared fell to the ground. He began to stomp its face in. Once he heard an unfamiliar snap, he began to swing the bat connecting against the head the next contestant trying to get an all-you-can-eat buffet. Harrison came beside him and began swinging the golf club at the other attackers. After the bodies had fallen and showed no signs of getting back up, the men nodded heads at each other and turned to find little Paul cowering in the corner. Phil went to comfort his son, only to be stopped by Harrison. “Run!” Harrison exclaimed as he motioned to the door in front of them with red eyes spilling out toward them. “Paul! Come here!” Paul began to cry as he stood up and ran toward his dad in the blood-soaked football gear. Phil pulled his son close, so he didn’t watch the man from another floor being ripped apart in the stairwell behind Harrison.

“Where’s your car?” Harrison shouted as he paced beside Phil carrying Paul.

“Here! Left!”

Harrison followed the short commands. They came upon Phil’s vehicle. A Jeep Cherokee with bumper stickers of random sports teams. “Throw your shit in the back. We’re out of here! Paul! Seat belt!” Little Paul climbed in the backseat of the SUV and strapped in. He looked around the back of the car as his dad took off the football helmet and the old man threw bags into the hatchback of the vehicle. Paul began to whimper as he looked in front of him and saw people running toward him. “Daddy!” Paul shouted from inside the car.

Phil looked up to see people running in from the street trying to hide from the sea of attackers. “Run!” Phil shouted at the random people as he got in. “Because we’re outta here, ah!” Phil threw the vehicle into reverse, backing into the mass of people. Holding the horn, he swerved down the path and into the sunlight. Once they reached the outside of the sublevel garage under the housing structure, they were met by pure chaos. Phil slammed to a halt. Staring out the windshield, he gave a silent nod to Harrison who showed a look of despair on his face; Phil spoke to Paul who was in the backseat, “Remember what I told you about being a superhero? We’re going to get through this. We’re going to escape and wait for the superheroes to get here. But we need to get out of the city. I need you to close your eyes. There are bad things happening that I don’t want you to see. Can you do that for me, buddy?” Phil didn’t turn around to acknowledge Paul’s response. “Hang on!” Phil exclaimed as he forced his boot on the gas pedal.

“I-75 to Ohio?” Phil asked the old man for advice.

“We’ll have to get out of the city to go to another city. Everyone will take the interstate. Bad idea,” Harrison retorted.

“What else is there? Back roads?”

“I don’t know my way. Do you?”

“No!” Phil said as he rounded a turn too fast hoping on the sidewalk and pounding into a hotdog cart. Smoke began to bellow out from some office building to the right. “What about boats? Take the bay down and then across?”

“That’s not a bad idea. Know anyone with a boat?”

“Nope. But right now, I don’t give a shit. You?”

“No, but we need to save lives. I don’t know what’s happening, but we can’t be the only one with plans to get the fuck out of here.” Phil glanced at Harrison. He had never heard a foul word come from the old man’s mouth before.

“I think I’m rubbing off on you, old man,” he said as he chuckled.

“At the end of days, how would we be remembered?” Harrison asked soulfully.

“I don’t think this is the end of days, man. This is some weird shit, but this is not the apocalypse. All I know is there are some sick, fucking people…Hang on!” Phil ended abruptly to ram a trash dumpster out of the way. With a crash of metal on metal, Phil picked back up his sentence. “…There are some sick people trying to kill us. Maybe it’s just this city. Maybe it’s the whole country. Maybe it’s the whole world. Don’t know, don’t care. All I know is that I have to protect my son against these things, and I don’t care what I do to accomplish that. Boats it is. 45 to Salem? It’s out of the way.”

“We got to cross the bridge to get to Jersey.”

“Fuckin’ Jersey! Hope we don’t run into any guidos!” Phil chuckled as he thought back to is wife watching The Jersey Shore. .

“My main concern is the Ben Franklin Bridge. There are going to be a million people and lots of cars trying to cross. What are we going to do about this?” Harrison asked.

“We’ll know when we get there.”

The House

Chapter 15

Monday 1400 CST

Memphis

S
tephen, Devin, and Erica calmly looked out the front window of the house. There they saw the bodies begin to roam the streets in search of their next meal. “Don’t open the blinds too wide. I’m not sure what these fuckers are, but there are too many of them,” Stephen said.

“There it is,” Devin said as he eyed a familiar car in the front yard of a neighboring house. “The car door is open.”

“So what? There are tons of those motherfuckers out there.”

“So? So there’s a chance she’s alive!” Devin said as he met Stephen’s face.

“She’s good as dead, son. You and I know that.”

“There’s a chance!” Devin argued.

“And there’s a bigger chance she got bitten by those things! Do you not see that motherfucker on fire?” Stephen asked.

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