This Dying World: The End Begins (32 page)

“Fuck that!” Mark said under his breath.

“Fuck that?  No, fuck you.  Say bye Rosa.”  Adam sighted down the barrel.

“Stop!” Chris shouted.  “All right, we’ll put them down.  Don’t shoot her.  There’s been enough blood today.”  He looked back at all of us, and we reluctantly set our guns on the ground.  I dropped the hammer too.  It wouldn’t do me any good against a shotgun anyway.

“That’s why this is my crib.  ‘Cause I can take it from you.  It’s mine, because I’d kill you for it,” he smiled.  “I’m the top dog now, and you’re all my bitches!”

“Are you kidding me?” I said.  I stared into Adam’s reddening eyes.  “You mean to tell me, my wife, Katie’s mom is dead, because you were on some kind of imaginary power trip, and I hurt your feelings?”

“No smart guy.  Your ole lady’s dead because I wanted to hurt you.  I’m going to kill everyone you love, to hurt you.  So dawg, does it hurt?” he taunted.

“You’re a coward.”  I stared slowly walking towards him.  “You’re a weak, pathetic little wanna be hood rat.  The only reason you stayed here is because you’re too chicken shit to do it on your own.  The only reason you’ve got the balls to be here now is because you’re infected and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Who you calling a coward!?  I’ll kill you right now!” he raised Abby’s shotgun, and leveled it at my chest.

“Good!  Shoot me!”  I ordered with outstretched arms.  “Man the fuck up and shoot me!  Go ahead, you want to hurt me?  Do it!  I’m right here!  Stop being a pansy ass punk and face me man to man!”  I stopped a couple feet short of Abby’s shotgun.

“Fine.  I don’t want to hear your crazy ass bullshit anymore anyway,” Adam laughed, frothy spittle dribbling down his chin.  The black tendrils under his skin were stretching across his head and down his neck.  He didn’t have much time before the infection took him completely.

“But you’re still a coward,” I smiled at him.  “And worse yet, you’re a coward who can’t count.”

“Man, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he shook his head smiling.

I narrowed my eyes, and focused all my rage and hatred into his.

“We’re…not…all…here!” I shouted my throat raw.

A shot rang out from above.  The tactical shotgun sparked as it flew from Adam’s hands.  I heard the rifle bolt draw back and slam home.  Another shot, and Adam’s ankle exploded.  Lexi, my guardian angel, had saved my life again.

Adam reached behind his back and pulled out Joe’s Desert Eagle.  Before he had the chance to point it at me, Joe’s massive hand engulfed Adam’s.  He pulled the pistol away before snapping Adam’s wrist backwards so hard I actually heard the bone break.  Adam wailed as he stared at his deformed arm.  Joe took a step back, and fired into Adam’s leg, tearing away a huge chunk of meat from his thigh.  All Adam could do was lay on the ground and scream.

“How do you like it, asshole!?” he asked, pushing his glasses back up with his middle finger.  He walked over to a sobbing Rosa.  She stared in disbelief until he took her in his arms and held her tight.  His arm was bleeding, and he was favoring his side, but he looked like he was okay.

“Can you watch him for a second?” I said to anyone in earshot.  I wouldn’t take my eyes off the squirming mass of douchebag at my feet until he was being watched.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Joe replied.  “Do what you gotta do.”

I picked up Abby’s Remington where it lay.  The barrel was cracked where Lexi’s round had hit its mark.  A sharp pain stabbed at my heart when I slipped my finger under the trigger guard.  It seemed so long ago that we had pulled it from the wrecked police car.  She had never really fired a gun before, and yet I couldn’t imagine her without it anymore.

“This stays with her.” I handed the weapon to Chris.

“Rodger that,” he nodded with sadness in his words.  “There’s no turning back from this.”

“There was no turning back the second I put a bullet through Abby’s brain.” I turned my back on him, waiting for an argument from the group that never came.  Adam’s painful wails were the only audible human sounds.

I holstered my Glock and hefted Chris’ Saiga before walking back to Adam.  I put my hand on Joe’s shoulder, and nodded towards the house.  He took the hint, and walked Rosa back inside.  She was a nurse dedicated to saving lives, not watching one get taken.  I waited until I heard the door shut before turning my attention to Adam.

“You broke her knee.”  I fired the shotgun through each of Adam’s knees in succession.  He shrieked as each joint was reduced to pulp.

“It bit her throat.  She couldn’t even say goodbye.”  The shotgun roared again, tearing holes through both biceps, first the right, then the left.

“I shot her in the head.”  I turned the gun around and brought the butt down on his forehead, enough to hurt without the relief of unconsciousness.

“I’m sorry!  Please don’t!” he begged, snot running from his nose and down to the stream of foamy saliva flowing across his cheek.

“She didn’t beg.” I planted several swift kicks to his side until his ribs broke and blood spewed from his mouth.

I kneeled beside his head.  His breath was foul, the pungent reek of ammonia filling the air with every labored breath he took.  I set the Saiga aside, and drew my Glock.  He took one look at the pistol and turned his head away from me.  I brought the weapon across his face, knocking his head back towards me.

“You don’t get to look away,” I said, pushing the barrel against his temple.  “So we’re back to where we were this morning.  Same gun, same magazine, same bullets.  There’s only one bullet left in this gun, and it’s for you.  I’ve saved it special for you.  The only bullet that you will die from today is in this gun.”

I raised the Glock into the air and fired my last round.

“You don’t get off that easy,” I said.  “Chris has an experiment he is running in the slaughter room.  I have one of my own I want to try.”

I grabbed his jacket collar and stood.  With a rough jerk, his body snapped around.  He cried out as his torn body dragged across the icy cold gravel.  I pulled him past the questioning eyes of my friends, and the cold stare from my brother.  Adam squirmed to get away, but his arms and legs were useless to fight against me.  My own injuries thundered, but those would wait.

I jerked his body over the last few feet of rock and dirt until we were through the damaged barn door.  Inside I heard the excited growls of the dead that had become trapped inside during Adam’s attack.  The room was still dark, but I could see the shambling figures silhouetted against the florescent glow of the bus interior.  Feet dragged on the concrete floor when the monsters saw us enter.  I released Adam’s collar, his head bouncing off the concrete floor.

“I was wondering if these creatures would attack someone if they were already infected.  Let’s find out together.”  I turned, walking away from the man I had condemned.  Adam protested, screaming obscenities at me as I walked towards the door.

“You can’t do this!” he shouted as I took one step out the door.

“Watch me,” I said over my shoulder.  “Does it hurt?” I added before leaving him to his fate.

I walked towards the house to the serenade of Adam’s painful screams.  The snarling growls of the feeding dead along with Adam’s cries echoed from all directions in the dead wintery silence.  My companions met me halfway to the house, stopping me with more questioning looks.

“I guess the dead will eat a living infected person.  Add that to your list of discoveries, professor,” I said to Chris before walking into the house.

No one dared to follow me.

Lexi met me in the living room as I closed the door, her face wet with tears.  She still carried her rifle, gripping it in one hand at her side.  She stood in the middle of the room, weeping.

“I wasn’t fast enough!” she wept.  I went to her and swallowed her up in an embrace.  Her body shook as she cried.

“No one was,” I said.  “Don’t put this on yourself.  The person responsible is paying the price.  Keep an eye on that barn.  Eventually those things will come out.  Just make sure no one shoots Adam.”  She nodded and walked outside.

I climbed the stairs, back to the second floor.  Shards of shattered glass crunched under my boots at the top of the stairs.  Slowly I made my way over to the bedroom where Anna had gathered the kids together.  I poked my head in and saw Katie and Jane coloring on the wall.  There was a rainbow in the bright blue sky.  Grass was growing, and an impressive array of flowers dotted their crayon fields.

Anna looked over and saw me.  Tears that were held back for the kids were finally freed, rolling off her cheeks in fat droplets.

“Jane, honey,” she said.  “Let’s go downstairs.  There’s something I want to show you.  You too, Faith”  She gathered Jane in her arms, and all three left me and Katie alone.  But not before Anna mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ on the way out the door.

I sat on the bed, watching Katie put the finishing touches on the birds she drew flying over the rainbow.  She stood back, admiring her work before looking over at me.  She smiled and ran to the door, looking out in the hall before walking slowly over to me.  Her eyes widened and wet, her bottom lip quivering.

“Daddy.  Where’s mommy?”

The Last Broadcast of WFUKD

Lights flickered as control panel lights dimmed.  There wasn’t much time left.  Time for one more broadcast.  Once more, for those who can still hear.

He pulled the microphone close.  He couldn’t hear them through his sound proof booth. He knew they were there though, still beating their way through the poorly built barricade.  He took a deep breath, and began to transmit.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, anyone who can still hear my voice.  I know it has been a few days since I last spoke to you.  The power grid is down, and we are running desperately low on fuel.  For reasons I will not get into, our main barricade has failed.  I am the last person here that still has a pulse.  For those reasons, this will be the last broadcast that I will ever make.

I never would have imagined I would one day sit in this chair.  You see, I’m not a DJ or anything that would ever allow me to be on the air normally.  I’m simply an advertising agent here at the station.  On the first night…when everyone ran, some of us stayed behind to do what we could.  Those of us that remained took a vote, and I was chosen to be the person to be the last voice for the station.

I didn’t think I would ever be on the radio.  I never thought I would be the one to broadcast the nuclear destruction of our capitol, along with several large cities across the globe.  And most of all, I never thought I would have to tell people that the dead were rising, and the apocalypse is in the here and now.

Before I sign off forever, I want to share the last bit of news we heard before all our lines went dead.  I wasn’t sure if I would bother mentioning it, because in the end it doesn’t really matter.  It was verified by several infectious disease experts, that this was no accident.  This…thing…was manmade.  Can you believe it?  Someone wanted this to happen.  Again, does it really matter anymore?

As I say my final farewell, I want to leave you all with something.  In case you didn’t realize it, today is Christmas.  It will be my last one.  I pray to whomever is listening that it is not yours.  Keep fighting, don’t give up.  Believe that this is not our swan song, and that we will come back from this.  Hopefully smarter and without so much hate for one another, and definitely alive and thriving.

With that, I leave you with this song.  Hopefully it will not be the last song ever broadcast.  Good night, good luck, and for the sake of the human race, live on.  Goodbye.”

He keyed in the song he had chosen to celebrate his last Christmas.  The music started slow, and as it built he sang along with his favorite holiday song.

“I’ll be home for Christmas, You can count on me, Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents under…” he trailed off.  Something hit him, and he started to laugh until his eyes watered.

“I never told anyone my name!” he laughed as the music filled the studio for the last time.  He stood and sang at the top of his lungs, his arms waving as he led the imaginary band.

The tune wound down, and so did he.  He fell back into his chair as the last verse started.  He whispered the words, raising a chrome revolver to his head.

“If only in my dreams…If only in my dreams.”

With a bright flash, the life of Phil Gardner ended on air.  Forgetting to turn off his mic, the shot was broadcast to everyone who was listening.

No one was.

Epilogue

The cold waters of the Pacific lapped against the armored steel of the LAV as the heavy diesel engines churned the waters behind it.  The frigid winds of the unusually cold California winter carried a fine spray of salty water to Jason’s face, hitting him like thousands of icy needles pricking at his exposed skin.  The setting sun behind him did nothing to stop the ice forming on his combat helmet.  He shivered as he stared across the waves towards the shores of Del Marr Beach.  It was not the cold that had him shaking atop the Light Armored Vehicle, however.

It was there that he had been forced to withdraw.  It was there that he watched the final moments of Camp Pendleton.

It was a losing battle from the start.  They were not fighting an army.  They were fighting against an enemy that had no fear, no sense of self preservation, and would walk right into its own death without hesitation.  It was a numbers game in the end.  They simply could not fight the multitudes that rose from nearby San Diego.

Those that were not dead had already evacuated.  The handful of Marines that had been left to cover the evacuation effort had been pushed back to beach.  Those that didn’t fall back were dead, overcome by the hundreds of thousands of walking corpses that marched through the base.

“Gunny,” a youthful voice cracked over Jason’s radio.  “LZ5 is overrun.  I’m getting nothing from any of the other evac sites.  There’s nothing but dead air on all frequencies.”

“Understood,” he replied over his own mic.  “Keep transmitting and keep me apprised.”

“Aye, Gunny.”

“Gunny,” another voice came over.  “We’re low on fuel and bingo on ammo.  We need to get out of this chop before we go dry.  What are your orders?”

Jason looked over the base.  Fires burned in almost every direction his eyes fell upon.  There was no reason to keep anyone there anymore.  Without any communication with any command structure, he was in charge.  His thoughts turned back to his family in the Midwest, and he made his decision.

“Bring us in, but bring us in dark.  Once we hit land, shut down and get quiet.  We’ll refuel and resupply when it becomes an option.”

He mulled over his next words carefully, knowing they would bring him into direct conflict with his last orders, ‘hold your ground’.  But there was no more ground to hold, and the way it looked, no more military structure to answer to.

“At that time, anyone on board who wishes to commandeer another vehicle will be allowed to do so.  Anyone who wishes to come with me will be welcome.”  He clicked off his mic and waited.

“Begging the Gunny’s pardon, where is he going?”

He looked over the burning remains of his home for the last six years, and keyed up his mic.

“I’m heading east.”