Infected the series Book 1 chapter 4

Chapter 4

            “You killed Ryan!” Ackerman shouts, his voice echoing off the walls of the garage. “You killed him without any reason!” he is stepping closer his blade not moving from its point. “Why?” he demands, his word hurt my ears. I try to speak but the words won’t come out. “Why!”

            “I had to” I finally say softly “he was-“ he cuts me off

            “he was our friend!”  he swings wildly at me. “You just murdered him in cold blood!” I move dodging Ackerman’s speedy strikes; he is faster than me; a lot faster. Instinctively I pull my chain whip from my belt and begin swinging it. It whistles lightly in my ear. I hold my ground as he strikes. I catch his blade in my chain and tighten my grip. I pull the blade knocking it aside. I look up and Ackerman had already pulled out his Swiss army knife and was stabbing at me. To compete I pull out the butchers fork and catch his blade.

            “Ackerman stop!” I shout through his blind rage. There was murder in his eyes and I was the target. “He was infected!” I say the silence afterwards overwhelms the room. Sam lowers his blade and looks at me, his eyes showed a mixture of shock and fear. I walk towards Ryan’s dead body and turn it over revealing the bloody bite on the back of his ankle. His blood was still warm and I wanted to throw up as I touched him. I look up at Ackerman, his eyes are watering but it is not a full tear. He was close to Ryan they have known each other for many years; they were like brothers.

            “We could have helped him Sam.” Ackerman says to me his voice quivers as he speaks

            “No, we couldn’t have” I respond coldly

            “Well we could have tried!” I look at him

            “You know what happens to people who try to cure the infected” he looks down I know what he was thinking about, his parents and sister. That could have been us if we tried to cure Ryan. He knew it was true. I watch him as he looks at the body, his face is red with a mixture of emotions he seems like he is holding in anger and rage as well as tears. He stood there and looked at this body.

            “Ackerman,” I reach out and put my hand on his shoulder. He looks up and steps away. “Sean we have to get out of here” he looks up at the garage door. The sound of the infected banging against the door echoed around the room. I watch Ackerman as he picks up his blades, just to make sure he doesn’t go after me again.

            I grab my chain and wrap it back around my waist. My eyes catch Sean as he walks over to the garage door opener and hits the button. Behind me the garage slides open and light stress across the floor. Sean is standing with his sword drawn ready for battle. I am not looking to die, not for vengeance. I run and push the button closing the door on the undead.

            “Sean what is wrong with you!” I shout at him. He turns and stares at me his eyes  burning with a dark flame.

            “I am going to avenge Ryan,” he declares “open the door now” his decisions sickens me and sets me off.

            “How?” I say getting in his face pushing my force up to the point where I seem much stronger than I am “how are you going to avenge him?” I continue “huh, by dying.” My face is a bright red with rage “You just want to waste your life and waste my time by going and killing yourself,” He looks at me then looks don guilty “then go, go on do it waste your life I don’t really care I will be able to escape easier then”

            “Well I have to do something” he says softly, his voice is heavy as though he is holding back tears.  “He came to us for help and you just killed him.”

            “I did help him, I made sure he did not have to suffer through the pain of becoming infected” I say, my voice is solid “The worst thing is to become infected, Ryan died as a human, and can be remembered for his life as a human.” I walk over to Sean and look him directly in the eyes “you want to avenge him, then live. Just make sure you survive. If not for him for me, so I know I did not waste my time on you” I don’t think he liked my answer but he looked back at me and agreed almost half heartedly. “Now we need to get out.” I say. He turns and begins to walk towards the door into the house. On my way in I grab a large spade with a sharpened edge for breaking ice.

            “What is that for, Sam?’ Ackerman looks at me and realizes I have no major weapon and he only has one blade. His house is a mess clothes and garbage litter the floor, it is a very different scene from what it used to be. Sean’s parents were very neat and when they died I guess he did not care anymore. We walk to the front door and see the most horrific scene ever. Hundreds of the infected are smashing up against the garage door. Suddenly there is a large smash and they have all burst into the garage. I don’t need to be there to see what is going on. They are all grabbing and tearing at Ryan’s corpse. The image is sickening in my mind. The banging begins again but closer this time. I turn and look at Ackerman who is standing stiff eyes locked on the garage door. We hear the wood on the other side peeling and cracking. A large crack appears followed by another suddenly the door bursts open and the undead rush in, in a wave of gory disgust. Blood drips from their mouths’ Ryan’s blood

            “Ackerman, we have to move” I say, he isn’t listening just standing there. I grab him by the arm “Now!!!” I pull him and begin to run towards the basement opening the door and slamming it shut behind us. Ackerman is looking towards the door. Silent watching it as on the other side the undead push to get to us. I look around and find a door. This door leads to outdoor stairs. This is our only exit. I pull on Ackerman and his legs fall out from under him. He falls and hits the floor hard. It almost seems to wake him up suddenly he is up and running towards the door. I follow him and we burst into the light.

            The sun is bright, I run towards the car opening the trunk in front of us there are about ten infected. I move in and swing at the first one smashing in the skull on the side. It hits the floor and my next swing flows into the next stabbing through the throat, decapitating its head from the body. I realize that my weapon is heavy after two swings I am already getting tired. My muscles twinge and then I take a final swing at my third infected and take off half of the face.

            I jump in and watch as Sean takes out the other few with quick slices splitting the vertebrae. He jumps in and I close the trunk behind him. Leila licks him across the face. Sean smiles and pets her. I climb into the front seat and buckle up, Sean follows me and takes the passenger seat.  I turn the ignition and the car roars to life screaming down the street escaping the hoard living in my rearview mirror. I turn to Sean he is looking out the window and I can see his somber tone in the reflection. He would never admit it but he was hurting. I want to console but I know that nothing I will say could help him. I feel sick looking at him. I feel sort of guilty as though maybe it is my fault. That makes me laugh because well it is my fault. My eyes stay on the road and I know what will make Sean smile.

            “Hey Ackerman,” I say waking him up from his self induced stupor. He looks at me, his face was upsetting to look at. It almost made me want to cry. “see that infected” I smile my eyes glistening with a dark rage. He looks at it, a small creature which was once a teenage girl. It stood about five foot two, its face gleaming with a crimson stream of fresh blood dripping from its teeth. He turns and his eyes meet it and they begin to glow with a rage. “Want to see something funny?” He shrugs uncaring mostly because he is focused on the undead in front of the car. I stop the car and look at him. He turns to me almost confused. The infected is in my sights about 30 feet in front of my hood. I grin and hit the gas burning out as hard as I could smashing hard into the infected sending it flying and hitting the ground and sliding across the ground scraping up it’s body. I stop and laugh. I look over and I see a small smile escape from Ackerman’s lips.

            The creature rises up from the ground and begins limping towards the sidewalk. Its body is dripping covered in it’s own blood. I smile and laugh as I smash straight into the creature knocking it over. But I don’t stop this time. I run over the infected stopping on top of the body. Sean looks at me with a dark grin much like mine lighting up his face. I hit the gas burning out over the creature destroying its body. We laugh and leave with renewed vigor.

            “Sean go into my contacts and find Sarah’s number and dial it.” I ask politely. Suddenly the speakers come to life and with the ringing. Suddenly a ruffled voice comes blaring through the speakers.

            “Sam” I lower the volume. The voice is manly; clearly it is not Sarah but her boyfriend Freddie.

            “Hi Freddie is Sarah home?” I ask my voice fake and childish “I was hoping to talk to her.”

            “Well she is in the bathroom” Freddie replies in his own childish voice “she is taking a shower” he giggles at that like a little child. “What is it about” he says still keeping the accent.

            “We…” I want to continue speaking but the words are heavy coming off my tongue I sigh and drop the accent “We are beginning to move” I say the words rush and jumble and I feel sick saying it. I told Sarah when the infection broke out to stay inside and I will come for them when the time is right. Well now is the time.

            I listen to the other end and there is a silence on the other. I can still hear him breathing, his breath seems abnormally fast. Suddenly a ruffling sound blares.

            “What!” a voice comes through the speakers. It is clearly not Freddie, the pitcher is higher and there is a little drawl to the voice. It is Sarah, one of my closest friends from high school. If I did not know her as well as I did I would think she was mad at me.

            “Sorry to interrupt your shower” I say, the sarcasm in my voice is a little obvious. Only a little bit though.

            “What do you want Sam?” her impatience for me is always fun. Unfortunately, this is not the time for games. “Hurry it up!”

            “It is time to move” I say firmly.

            “Where are we going?”  That is a great question. I did not really plan a specific location.

            “We are meeting at the warehouse, I will text you the address.”

            “Ok, I will see you there”

            “Wait!” I stop her from hanging up “I will be late Sean and I have to go somewhere first” I say quickly making sure she hears it all. “Ok no you can hang up” Then the call ended.

            “Sean text Sarah the address on my G.P.S, then call Matt” I command with a smile.

            “Where are we going Sam?” Sean curiously asks

            “That is for me to know and you to find out young apprentice” I turn and a goofy grin bursts through my lips. “Have you texted them and called Matt yet for me?” He hasn’t, my phone is still sitting in the cup holder. I glance at it obviously trying to get Sean to pick up my phone. His eyes catch mine and he submits. I smile at that. With in minutes the phone is ringing over the speakers, I listen intently to the hum of the calling signal waiting for Matt to pick it up.

            “Hello?” Matt says through the phone, there is music in the background, it sounds like he is driving and I am on speaker phone. There is another person in the car, I don’t ask questions, I honestly don’t really care enough to. I just need to talk to him.

            “Matt, you know where we are going right? I ask

            “Wait, where are you?” That is never a good response, it is the first day of our unit and we are all lost, it is not a good sign. “I was just at your house and your car is gone.”

            “I am on my way towards the Warehouse to meet up with Sarah, Freddie, Kayleigh, Erik, and Casey.” I explain; meet us there I will text you the address” I looked at Sean, he was already texting. I smiled, he learns quickly. “I will be there late; I have to go get something quickly.” Just like the conversation ended like so many before it.

            “Are you going to tell me where we are going now?” Sean asks

            “Probably not” I giggle. He decides it would be easier to stop asking, that was something I liked about him; he usually went with the flow. I guess it is trust; Ackerman trusts me. That evokes a silent grin; he trusts me and I will not let him down. We sit in the silence as I drive around the familiar terrain hitting turns as I bring us to our next location the police station.

            Hen the Infection became bad the police became hunters, they would go out and kill as many as possible. They were also used to protect the doctors in the hospitals. The police were pretty much hired guns up until the end government shut down most police forces disbanded, there was no sense fighting if there was no money involved. They had no incentive to protect the masses. So they went into hiding, protect myself and my family. They were cowards.

I am a coward. That was how I survived as long as I have. The heroes have all died trying to save the world. Only the cowards remain. We sit hiding in our houses protecting ourselves selfishly trying to scratch out some sort of living. The heroes were stupid. They fought to protect cowards like me who did not care if they lived or died. Why would I? I did not know them; I would not die for them. They make guys like me look weak but guys like me are still alive.

“Sam” I hear it is Ackerman, his voice seems miles away. I pull myself out of my daze and turn to him. He is staring at me concerned. I hate that. Do not worry about me, worry about yourself first. Your life is much more important than mine. I look at him and smile. The smile is as fake as any but Ackerman believes it.

“This is us” I point at the old wooden side across the street from us, “Recreational Complex” it reads in a faded yellow coloring. In the back of the complex sits a large building, its bricks tower over the car hiding it in the shadows. Chills run up my spine as I pull the car to the front where the sliding glass doors lay shattered across the concrete pavement. “Someone beat us here” I sigh to Sean “Who would be so mean to beat us here?”

“The police station, what are we here for?”

“Guns Ackerman, guns” I park the car and hop out. The trunk pops open and I pick up my projects. Sean follows me and grabs one of his blades and unsheathes it. He stares at his reflection. I close the trunk and look. The infected are slowly making their way towards us. There is no point to wait and fight we must begin moving. I move towards the broken doors. Glass crackles and breaks under our feet. I walk through the hole in the door avoiding any glass, don’t need any cuts. Sean is close behind me.

The lobby is empty and a cloud of dust fills the air engulfing everything. The haze filled your lungs and with each breath I found myself coughing. I looked through the cloud towards our destination. The large door made of bullet proof glass stood out in front of Sean. The door stood locked with glass still up and frame covered in scratches as though there was once a terrible battle to get inside of it. Behind me the sound of the infected looms closer. Bearing down on our backs, safety is beyond that door. On the side of the door is a panel requesting I.D.

“Sam we don’t have any I.D.” Ackerman complains. He is always so serious it is slightly upsetting to me. I don’t eve dignify his remark with a comment. My mother’s old card does enough. Before the Infection broke out my mother worked for the town, she would move back and forth between her office where she worked during the week and the police station where she worked Sundays. I swipe the card and prepare for a battle. Yet unfortunately beyond the door lies little more than a white hallway with doors and windows upon each side. The silence which lays upon the white walls creates a foreboding feeling as though at any given moment the infected will overwhelm us. My muscles twitch and my body is on edge. At the end of the hallway a large metal door sits open exposing the world to its inner content. I run towards it. The room is dark. To my right a switch brings life to the room in spurts until the whole room is lit exposing the infected crouched over a dead body. It turns to us and screeches trying to keep us away from it’s meal.

            One strike with the woodpeckers scythe ends the creature’s miserable existence. The carcass underneath the creature lays bitten and destroyed exposing tissue and muscle. The body was that of a young man, about twenty years of age if I could guess. He looked strong his muscles now torn and ripped. Just for precaution I stab through the throat breaking the vertebrae. I look up and the walls are almost empty. The places where large guns used to stay now lie bare. There are only a few weapons; about three small pistols, two rifles and one shotgun. I grab all the weapons and give some to Sean.

“I don’t use guns, Sam”

“Well learn, now take this pistol” I say shoving a gun into his pocket. He steps back shocked by my actions. He pulls out the gun in his hand examining the dark metal frame. It is something unfamiliar and new to him. He stares at the alien device and points it at the dead corpse lying on the floor.

“Bang” he pulls the trigger. A loud bang echoes throughout the room. A bullet flies out of the gun hitting the dead corpse in the arm. Ackerman stared at the gun in fear, smoke seeped out of the barrel still hot. He looks terrified, his eyes wider than they have ever been. I doubt he has ever shot a gun before.

I laugh, I laugh loudly; nothing was funny but I feel that laughing is all I could to keep myself moving. Sean begins laughing with me. There we were standing over a dead corpse with a hot gun and laughing. If we can not laugh then what can we do? Are we worse off than the infected? By laughing I keep my humanity and my sanity.

I grab a black ammo bag, it is almost empty. So I grab more ammo from other bags. “Time to go” I throw the bag over Sean’s shoulder. I run out of the room, in the hallway I can see the bullet proof glass door now covered with the infected. Their bodies slam against the glass pounding in an almost rhythmic tune. The glass holds itself well. The easiest way out is not through the infected. I look around and find the closest door and open it. We were in a large kitchen with a fridge and table that still had food laid out across it. The fridge was open and the food in it was destroyed, the shelves a mess. There is a door with a light green paint and gold painted knob. It was like most of the office unimpressive, yet I got a feeling from it as though there was something great, behind it. I pushed on the door and it popped open.

Behind it stood a garage, filled with police cars and trucks. I smiled and began breaking into the windows and pulling out guns and ammo. Most cars had either a pistol or shotgun. We need ammo more than guns. I pull the cars apart grabbing as much as I can.

“Sam, this is great but how are we getting out of here.” Sean asks concerned. I don’t pay attention; too busy. There are windows to smash and honestly I really enjoy it. Finally with everything in tow it is time to leave, through the garage door. This was a pull chain garage. I looked at the chain and silently began to pull. Light did not flow in through the cracks. It was dark out and the clouds blocked out even the smallest star. We are in the back of the building. From here we can see the entire recreational complex, the infected wander around the land below. Hundreds of them walk blindly across the land. They live without purpose or reason. The infected wander the world lost in a sea of their own selfish indulgence, feeding only themselves and the virus. They sicken me.

My eyes follow one in particular, a woman large short in stature hair held high as if it were the only thing that mattered. She was probably like this well before the infection broke out; constantly feeding her ego and selfish desires. She probably tanned every day with her orange taking on a leathery orange tone. I am glad she is infected, the world is better off without her. My body begins to move on instinct. Without knowledge or thought I hold the rifle up through the scope the creature’s head lies in perfect view. I slowly squeeze the trigger with my index finger. “Bang I whisper as the bullet flies out and strikes the zombie in the left side of it’s head tearing through flesh and skull then finally emerging from the opposite side. The creature falls and hits the ground hard. Others flock towards the body for a cheap meal. I watch until the body is destroyed almost entirely.

Afterwards I move towards the car. My body is beginning to feel the strains of constant violence. I need to find shelter for the night, the only place I know of is the warehouse. That is where we will stay; I start the car and pull my away, locked and loaded. Running, always running.

Infected the series Book 1 chapter 3

Chapter 3

Finally clear of the infected my body begins to return to its natural state. The adrenaline which allowed my body to move through the battle is drained. All the pain begins to show. Throughout my body muscles contract and expand shaking without control. I pullover on the side of the road, not to far from the house which I have just made an escape from. I turn the car off and climb into the back and unzip the bag freeing Cleo who winces at the light. The world around me is spinning and I can physically not breathe. I crawl over towards Leila, she immediately licks my face. I smile at her and then it all goes black. My body becomes limp and I drop to the surface of the car hitting my chin.

I open my eyes and I am back at home in my own bed. The sun is shining outside and the distinct sound of the TV is coming from downstairs. I hear the old conversation that my parents used to have about me before the infection broke out.

“He is sleeping too late.” My dad says and I already know the next line. “Do you think he is depressed Suzie?” I mouth out the entire conversation that was all too common in my life.

“Ken he is a very busy boy.”  My mother explains trying to defend my sanity but mostly her own. “He does not go to sleep till very late most nights with school and work and all.” Odds are she is smiling about how proud of me she is.

“But kids should not be lying in bed until one in the afternoon” He says. “Max never did that.” He says finally letting it all boil down to the fact that I am not my brother.

“Sam is not like Max, Ken.” My mother explains “They are both very different” these words always had a bit of a fake tone to them. “Sam just has different skills than Max; he is unique and special in his own way.” She says and with that I have had enough. My body slowly aches to life and I rise from the bed. My feet touch the wood floor; it is cold. It always was cold on my bare feet. I pull a clean pair of tan cargo shorts out of my drawer and put them on with a T-shirt. During the walk down the stairs the house is silent other than the sound of the television. As soon as I come into view my parents’ eyes lock onto me. Their gaze is concerned yet cold. They both have a smile plastered on their faces that is so fake and clairvoyant. I gaze back and put on a smile of my own. Their smiles get wider in response and we stare at each other. The tension in a room filled with only smiles is thick so much that it clouds my view.

This was what an average morning looked like before the infection broke out, I can almost say I miss it. Almost, being the key word.

“Good morning killer” my dad says still grinning. I stare back confused by that choice of name.

“What did you call me?” I respond abruptly almost showing shock in my words. My dad looks confused that I would question such a greeting as though I have done something wrong.

“Good morning Sam” he says again, with a bit of anger in his voice.

“Oh, good morning father” I sarcastically say through a toothy grin. He smiles back.

“How did you murder us last night honey?” my mother says still holding onto that smile which so elegantly hid her emotions. I step back; fear runs up my spine, goose bumps show themselves on my arms and legs. I breathe heavily and notice that I can see my breath. My fear is not cold the room is. I look out the window and there is only blackness. I look back at my parents and they are looking back at me with that concerned stare that I always hated “Sam,” my mother says regaining my attention, “How did you sleep?” She repeats with a bit of haste in her words. I stare flabbergasted.

“Um, fine I guess” I stutter the words come out in chunks. They were not clean or convincing. Ignoring my clear confusion my father tries to continue the dying conversation.

“Any big stabs today?” he asks in a calm nonchalant manner. I panic and step backwards tripping over one of the stairs landing on my back.

“Are you ok honey?” my mothers voice soothing and slow. I look at her. She looks paler than usual almost a sickly green. Her eyes are sunken and rings of red circle them. Her hair is a frizzy mess. I follow her every move as she stands up and begins the walk towards me. The skin around her cheek begins decomposing and falls off her face. Dirty brown blood begins to drip down her face onto her clothes now sporting holes and tears each one with its own set of wounds. She limps with a bite mark dripping with that same dark blood. She is coming closer, her body one large sum of decomposing flesh. The smell is rancid as it fills my nose I begin to gag.

My father is staring at me confused as though I am at fault. He stares as though I am the monster in the room.

“Sam, are you ok?” he asks, drawing my attention away from my mother and to him. He is still sitting on the couch; his head is turned away from me. He seems to be string out the window into the blackness. He seems almost oblivious to my mother.

His head turns slowly towards me; I can hear each vertebra in his neck crack and pop like rotating gears that have not been oiled. He stares at me; his expression is emotionless, blank. His face is white with the classic red circles of the infected surrounding his sunken eyeballs.

It appears as though he is trying to speak but can not do it. He coughs a hard dry cough causing blood to spurt out of his mouth and nostrils and roll down onto his beard dying it a dark brown color. “You look as though you have just murdered someone” he finally sputters out causing blood to hit the floor.

I begin to run. My body is screaming at me to leave the house. So I run to the front door. It is locked and my parents are coming closer. I cut through the small more formal den towards the kitchen. I hear their steps behind me and feel the droplets of blood flying from their mouths with each step. I enter the kitchen and pull at the knife drawer. It is empty all except for one blade. A meat cleaver, It is about seven inches in blade length and has a light brown wooden handle. The finish of the handle glows brightly. The blade itself is fresh and new; my fingers slide themselves gently across the sharp blade. They are closing in on me. I feel their cold breath running up my neck and for a second the world around me slows down. Each hair on my body stands up on end. In that second my body goes into panic mode. I turn and swing wildly through the air. I look into the empty kitchen in front of me. The room is cold as though I have stepped into a freezer. My breath comes out like a small stream of foggy smoke. I peer around the empty kitchen.  My right hand twitches with anticipation for the fight that is inevitable.

I feel hands grab firmly on my shoulder causing my hair to rise once again. I turn and swing wildly again. I feel my blade strike something firm, blood splashes onto my face. When I look up the room is empty. Once again I am standing alone in my kitchen with a dumb expression on my face. I look down at the meat cleaver which is no stained with the rotten blood of the infected. I smile, and laugh; it begins slowly and quietly. I begin chuckling almost at a whisper then rises to a brazen crescendo blasting through out the house.

“This is the best you have?” I shout amid my laughter “Come out and show yourself!” I shout swinging my blade through the air.  “Come out and let me chop you to ribbons!” I scream. Then as if in response to my calls, these undead creatures which inhabit the bodies of my parents appear in front of me. They are smiling. The undead are smiling at me. I smile back and just like that it begins. The sick dance of battle which always has the same ending, someone is left as a bloody pulp on the floor. I step forward slicing through the air hard enough that the blade whistled. The creatures are fast and dodge the blade. Their bodies move as one in unison perfect symmetry, I look at them with a peculiar grin. I was excited to have a good fight and I knew it; it is very rare to have a fight that involved skill, especially when it came to the infected. They usually had poor reflexes and would just take the hit.

These two were different, that made this exciting. I look at them. They gaze back there eyes glassy and reflective, I see my face in them and smile. I charge the two with another quick swing. The two split up as my fathers body leaps over the counter landing on the table. The undead which has stolen my mother’s body spins and ducks ending up behind me. I turn my body trying to keep up with this quick creature. The horizontal blade hits the creatures arm, slicing it. I keep eye contact on the demon’s face as the blood sputters out spraying across the room something strange happens.

My mothers face appears back on this mangled body. Fear fills my body and pierces my lungs; I step back and stop breathing.  All the blood leaves my face and I become pale. My mother is looking at her wrist which is now bleeding a crimson red spray. She looks up at me her eyes show confusion and worse than that disappointment.

“I am so sorry mom.” I cry out. “I did not me-“the other infected is on my back, knocking me to the ground. I fight and wrestle it off me. I look back down at my mother and the body that stared back was not my mother. The undead staring back up at me stares the expression bleeds emptiness lack of thought and emotion. I panic and throw my weight around wildly knocking the creature up against the oven door. His grip is loosening as I continue to smash his back against the door. The sounds of cracking glass begin to echo through the room until it finally shatters sending the infected tumbling into the now exposed oven. My face is red anger covers my eyes and clouds my vision. I chop violently at the infected mangling and destroying the body. I turn towards the one which has killed my mother. It is standing now, smiling with a dark grin giving the monster life and a personality.

“Sam” it says blood spurting from its mouth and wrist. “Have you seen your father?”

“He is dead” I coldly reply. My face is solemn holding in the screaming scratching at the back of my throat trying to break free. “You killed him” I point with the meat cleaver. There is vengeance in my eyes burning like a fire.

“I a not the one who shoved him into an oven and chopped him up now am I?” she laughs. “Admit it Sam, you are a cold blooded killer who killed us both.” she continues “It is your fault we’re dead and you know it” I smile at that. Something about that phrase evokes a slight laugh. I look up at this creature and laugh

“Yes I did kill you but not my mother” I say my voice is soft and cold “You are not my mother” My body flies forward lead by the meat cleaver striking and swinging. Our bodies dance around moving slicing fighting. I keep the infected at bay as I swing slicing its arms blood sprays around the room and covers the walls. My swings get closer striking at the stomach and chest. “I will chop you up for lying to me” I scream. “How dare you pretend to be my mother!”

Suddenly something digs into my shoulder. It feels like a series of sharp jabs cutting through my flesh to the bloody tissue below. I fall to the ground, the room is shaking the walls begin to crumble my body lays face down on the cold tile floor. I can not move my body won’t let me. I lay there on my stomach and stare at the two creatures which inhabit my mother and father as they feast on my body. I am helpless, I want to scream but I can’t, I want to fight but I just lay there and watch the end. The walls around me vibrate and crumble, this is death. This is my death and I close my eyes and feel it.

My eyes open in a rush, cold sweat is dripping down my face and I am in a panic. It was a dream, it was all a dream, a nightmare built from a guilt which lives deep inside me and in a second it was gone. I look around I am lying in the back of the car. Leila and the cats’ sit across from me watching me waiting to see my next move. I feel vibrations from my pocket. My phone is ringing the screen reads out “SEAN ACKERMAN” in bold letters.

“Hello?” I say into the phone quietly my head still reeling from the nightmare.

“Sam, where are you?” I look at the clock in the car the numbers look strange to me like a new language and then I realize I am an hour late. I smile and give a little laugh. It’s the zombie apocalypse and I still oversleep. “Sam, are you there” Ackerman says waking me from my thoughts

“Oh, sorry I am on my way over I will be there in five minutes.” I say moving into the driver’s seat and turning the key. The car rumbles to life and the Bluetooth connects my phone to the speakers. Sean’s voice bursts out loud around the car.

“Sam I am ready where should I be?”

“In your garage, when I get there open the door and move to the car quickly.”

“Ok” he replies and with that the call was over, I hit the gas and began to move. My iPod begins to play over the speakers the song is very familiar to me, “Demon Days” by my favorite band Gorillaz. The track is a beautiful orchestral track lit up by the beautiful sounds of a choir then accented by the wonky twangs of an electric guitar.

The sounds start at a soft low sound with the guitar humming at a high pitch in the background the singer jumps into the sound with a light falsetto, his voice streaming along the words. Following him the orchestral strings and wonky guitars build to a bright crescendo boldly it blasts through the speakers hitting my eardrums. The choir blares into the crescendo creating a gorgeous mix of instrumental and vocal gold.

“In these Demon Days it’s so cold inside, so hard for good souls to survive, you can’t even trust the air you breath, mother earth wants us all to leave.” Their words echo through my mind. “The lies become reality, numb yourself with drugs and T.V” I join in with a pathetic attempt to hold onto a falsetto key. “Lift yourself up it’s a brand new day and turn yourself around” the women and I sing to the strings and sounds “don’t burn yourself, turn yourself, turn yourself around towards the sun.” I smile; there is real joy in my smile. No cynicism, no sadism just pure joy which shines through my teeth and reflects the sunlight through the sky. Music has the power to create emotion, raw and vivid.

            My joy is short lived as I notice a curious thing. There are no infected around. There were not any when I woke up from my nightmare. The streets are empty and loneliness is worse surrounded by emptiness. I turn onto Sam’s street and I begin to feel my heart race. I drive slowly hoping to find something. I don’t care if it is alive or dead. The houses roll by in different conditions broken windows and board lay across the ground but no people. The world seems empty as I pull into Ackerman’s driveway. I pull in backwards so the trunk is facing the garage. Then I jump into the back and throw Babe into his box. I don’t worry about Cleo or Leila jumping but given the chance Babe would run and I would never see him again.

            The car turns off and I jump out through the trunk. I walk over to the garage and without warning it slowly rises up revealing a body standing there with a sword hanging from his hip another one on his back and then a bag which looked like it was filled with more swords and knives. Sean was taller than me and much more skinny, his body showed a strong muscle tone which made his thin frame almost unnoticeable. He looks at me and a smile slides across both our faces. We hug not that awkward man hug where you don’t really want to get too close but a real hug.

            He walks towards the car and throws his bag in as well as the sword on his back. I look at the sword on his back, it is large the blade seems to be a three foot straight blade with a chain attached to the hilt which is a crimson red. The blade oozes elegance and strength. I give a slight cynical chuckle. Sean was a karate enthusiast with a slight sword fetish. Odds are he had this hidden away for years and only picked her up recently. Laying it down next to my woodpecker scythe my weapon looks silly.

            I look at Sean who is looking around, he noticed the emptiness which surrounds us, his eyes come back to me reflecting through his glasses but there is something else there.

            “Sam” he says his eyes showing fear “There is no one here”

            “I know” I smile back. We stand there listening to the silence for a few minutes.

            Then we begin to hear it. A slight buzzing like a thousand drums banging out of beat. It is getting louder, it is getting closer.

            “SEAN!!” we hear from the distance. We turn and see a mob of the infected running toward us. Hundreds of them all charge the house. At the front of the pack is our friend Ryan. His red hair a mess covered in his own sweat. He is just out of the reach of the infected but they are gaining fast. I look at Ackerman who already has his hand on his sword ready to draw it. He is preparing for a battle and I am not. I thro the trunk closed and grab him and push him towards the open garage. Ryan follows him and I am bringing up the rear.

            I notice something as we run toward the garage. Ryan is bleeding from the ankle. The cut is stereotypical and very upsetting. He has been bitten. Ina few hours he will be part of the mindless collective he will be an infected. There is no hope for him, and he knows it. Fear does that to people when you know there is no hope you seek it out. I grimace at the knowledge of what I must do.

            The garage door shuts behind us crushing bodies and limbs underneath it. I laugh at them as the muscles twitch and try to free themselves.  Ackerman and I look at Ryan who is breathing heavily his eyes wide. I give him time to breath and calm down.

            “Rubinstein, what are you doing here?” he says to me. I look at him. To be quite honest I did not know he was still alive otherwise I would have called him.

            “Sam and I are leaving” Ackerman bursts in before I can create a lie to keep him away. “Do you want to come with us?” he says, I quiver at that question.

            “Yes” Ryan answers hastily “you guys could help me-“

            “He can’t come” I say cutting him off. They both stare at me surprised by my answer and how coldly I say it. “He can not go with us” I repeat to help the idea sink in.

            “Well who are you to decide that?” Ackerman says his tone shows aggression, it is a blind aggression. He did not see the bite.  “I am going on this trip too and I say to let Ryan go with us!” his voice is rising he is in my face invading my personal bubble. I can’t help but smile at his aggression. He always would protect his friends which made him a great asset, but when you go against his friend his anger is blindly towards you.

            “Fine” I smile just to get Sean out of my face. He turns with Ryan towards the door into his house and at that point I strike. My butcher’s knife pierces through Ryan’s throat, sliding through the vertebrae. He begins to quiver and shake as I hold up his body. Blood spills from his mouth and nose dripping down his body. The blood was red not the rusted brown of the infected. This was a hum and I killed him. His body shook in my hands for a minute. Then stopped and became silent and calm. I pulled the blade from his throat and his body crumpled to the ground like a balled up piece of paper. I felt nauseous and afraid, not because of Ryan but because of what stood behind him. Ackerman’s face was red his eyes bulging from behind his glasses, his sword was drawn and pointed toward me. He demanded an explanation, he demanded vengeance.

Infected the series Book 1 chapter 2

Chapter: 2

            I sat down and looked at Leila. I want to begin packing but I feel the procrastination setting in. Moments of procrastination hit me hard sometimes. It is never a good thing but most times they happen pretty quickly. This was different; I just sat there and stared into nothingness listening to the distant sound of the refrigerator’s hum. I look up and it had already been fifteen minutes. I know I should be packing but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to move. I feel the clock tick and life pass me. I can’t just sit here but I can’t bring myself to move. I am done with this struggle, I control my body nothing else. I push myself up from my chair and stumble. My foot is asleep and the pins and needles rush through it now making every step a hassle. I begin to regain myself and then walk towards the garage. In there I have my bag that I used to use for sleep away camp. It was pretty big and I could hold a lot in it. As I lower the ladder to get into the attic all of these memories of camp begin to rush into my mind and flow like a river. It almost seems like a dream. I miss each and every person; not like I knew all of them. It is mainly because that would mean they were still alive.

            I wipe every one of those thoughts from my head. There is no time for them, I have to begin packing and get ready to leave. With the bag down I now have a real problem to think about what should I put in it? I look at the bag and know that I can hold a lot in it. It already has a blanket in it. But other than that it is just a lot of space that I can use. I cut my losses and get to work. Food and water come first all my food that is canned and fill as many empty bottles with water as I can and throw them in; as well as all of the silverware. I know silverware seems unimportant but it will give me a small sense of normalcy. In a world where nothing seems natural a little bit of normalcy can go a long way. Then I grab the giant bag of dog food and cat food. Great I have food. Now I can feed the zombies when they end my suffering and tear me limb from limb. Then something hits me, not literally, mentally. These thoughts are going to kill me and now that would just be selfish there are people who will depend on me. I can’t let them down. I perk myself up and grab some clothes. Its summer and I would prefer not to be covered in the same gross clothes everyday. Then I think about weather and how we may be on the road in the winter or cold and I need stuff for that. I grab boots and two jackets one for snow the other rain. Now looking at my bag I think I have most things so I grab knives. I have a lot but I really only use my projects. These are more for the purpose of back up. They are all old cooking knives some large some small but I have sharpened all of them. On some days I would find myself sitting there with one knife and my sharpener for hours. I just sit there lost in my own world. Now finally I grab a pillow for me and one for Leila. Next up is by back pack which I fill with some more weapons and food.

            That is it I am fully packed. I begin going through the rooms boarding up the upstairs windows. The downstairs ones were already boarded up to prevent zombies but the top I left open so I could see the sun when I woke up. Then I check the downstairs and suddenly something stops me. I look in the glass cabinet by our old TV. There it is sitting there staring at me. It’s binding glistening with a light that seemed to be coming from it. It is my old siddur next to it a bible with English translations. I grab these two books and shove them in the bag.

Why would I bring a bible? How could I believe in a god right now? Would god allow the world to be destroyed like this? Then would he make me survive to witness all of this. I try to brush these thoughts out of my head but these ones are strong. I am staring at my reflection my hair is long curled up like how I used to like it but now with the large amount of stubble on my face and the bags under my eyes I look like some star-crazed lunatic. I can feel the anger building up. With every passing second I get sicker of my reflection. I want to look away but I can’t. My reflection is just staring back at me mocking my very existence. I lose control of my hand that has without my knowledge formed into a tight fist and I suddenly shoot it as hard as it can into the glass shattering it.

I look at my hand which now is bleeding from a few places; I chuckle to myself, it is more of a cynical chuckle than anything funny. I look back up at the shattered cabinet door. My reflection is gone but the image still sits fresh in my mind. It is an almost scary image. It must be changed.

            I walk upstairs again, this time with my hand wrapped tight. I head into my room avoiding the mirror. I don’t need to destroy my other hand. That thought brings anther cynical chuckle from my mouth. I look into the drawers and pick out a new set of clothes. After everything is all set up and ready I strip down for a final shower and shave.

I ran out of gas about two months ago so I knew what to expect from the shower; nothing warm. I turned the warm water knob first then wait with my hand in with the slight hope that maybe something different will come from the head. Of course I was wrong but it is not like I really have high hopes. I am used to cold showers. To be quite honest I have come to enjoy them a bit. When I am in the shower that sudden rush of cold water hits me and seems to create an instant adrenaline rush that really wakes me up. When you can’t sleep a cold shower is a great way to stay alert.

After my shower I get out and stare at my hand which has finally stopped bleeding I look at the little jagged holes and scrapes which now riddle and disfigure the skin. They are pink and raw and even after the shower the scent of live blood still floats about the room. The infected can smell raw flesh from a mile and a half away. That means my hand could draw hundreds of them.

I stare intently at my hand then down at the bowl now filled with rubbing alcohol. Then like pulling a band-aid off, I quickly thrust my hand into the bowl. The burning sensation hits me hard and runs up my arm like an inferno. I feel every muscle in my arm contract and tighten up, every vein began to pop up and my face began to sweat.

This is not some sick way for me to see if I am still truly alive. I know I am, this is simply a way to burn the raw skin shut and get rid of the smell of blood. The idea is to avoid contact with the infected, not attract them all. I look at my phone with my other hand to find the time it has only been thirty seconds which feel like years. The worst part is the knowledge of having to do this for another minute. Time is moving so slowly almost as if to spite me saying “feel the pain, feel every horrid second of it.” I didn’t my whole arm went numb after a minute. The last thirty seconds went quicker because of this.

I stare now at this numb swollen hand which looks like it has been stung by ten bees and I laugh. This was not the cynical chuckle but a full on hysterical fit. I just thought that “This is my prize for living god?” Then the pain came back and with it greater laughter. The pain was real and I just could not help but laugh at it. Suddenly the laughter stopped dead in its tracks, as I saw it again in the mirror of the bathroom.   I am staring at that disgusting reflection of a madman who was not Sam. He has to go.

I pull out the pair of scissors and began cutting away; watching as the locks fell to the floor. My hair began to take a new shape, shorter and clean. It was not long until the floor was littered with hair. Next was my face, I put on shaving cream and got to work with the usual feeling of cold metal running across my face. Time went quickly and when I was finally finished I looked at myself, I could honestly see Sam. He was real and he was me.

Now with all that done, it is time for Sam to get down to the real work. I have to get myself, my giant bag, my dog, and two cats into the car. The key is not to get bit. This is a simple task. Not really, I am trying to convince myself it is for the soul purpose of keeping spirits high. I sit here and look outside the window where the zombies are circling my garage moving over the dead body which lay at its base. I need to move them away so that I can get to my car which is sitting right in the middle of the driveway. I grab my key and push the auto unlock button and the horn goes off. Suddenly the zombies turn towards the car. Then I got an idea, I pushed the car alarm and all of the zombies began going towards the car. They completely disregarded the dead creature to go after my car. If I can use the horn to distract them from the garage I may be able to get in and out pretty quickly. I am going to bring Leila in first she is the oldest of my pets so I worry about how I will protect her when I walk her. By taking her out first then I will have little resistance from the infected. After that, what? I look and think that this plan will become more dangerous as time goes on. This dark idea begins to set slowly in my head. There is no way out of this. These words begin echoing in my head. I sat back down in my seat and I just tried not to cry. There must be a way out, I tell myself.

            Looking out the window I try to bring something to life, some plan and then the gears turned out a smoky answer. Just go for it. My issue is that I have always liked to be sure before I did anything. This way I could do something risky while getting rid of all the risks involved in it. This was how I lived. But now, the risk was there and there was no way to avoid it. I hear barking from my feet; Leila is sitting there with her leash in her mouth. It is almost as though she is reading my thoughts and she is ready for the risks. If she could do it then I could. There is no more time to waste. I walk down to the garage and grab my projects.

            There are only a few of them, the first two you have already seen, the woodpecker scythe and the war hammer. I fixed the length problem by making a second one so that I can move them both easier. The other three are my knuckle duster, a two inch blade which covers my knuckle. It is used for very close range combat. It focuses my punch to a point so that it can cut through a zombie’s throat. After that is an antique butcher knife and fork pack from India. The knife had a seven inch blade for my right hand and a meat fork with two five inch points. How did a seventeen year old boy get an antique Indian knife? Well since you asked so politely, it used to belong to my grandmother before the infection broke out she moved into an assisted living and well it is not like they would let her keep that. So I ended up with it; when I first got it the blade was dull and rusted over. I went to work and created my first project.

            Finally my last project was a chain whip. I made it from Leila’s old outdoor chain. I sharpened each link then screwed a blade from my pocket knife onto the end of it. It was never really met to fight the infected. I used it only once and it was against a person who broke into my house a month ago. He came in through the window in my brother’s old room. It is connected to the roof; when we were little we would go out and sit on it to see the stars. This man climbed up onto the roof and got in through the window. He was nothing like the woman I told you about before. He was what we called a “pirate” they were looters who took advantage of the infection to steal anything of value. There used to be a lot of them but one by one they each got what they deserved.

            This one came in while I was downstairs feeding the cats. He was not very quiet; I guess he just thought that there would not be anyone in the house. I sat in the living room holding the dog, waiting for him with the chain in hand. He ruffled around upstairs for a while then I heard him walk down the stairs and turned toward the room I was sitting so patiently rocking back and forth in my family’s old rocking chair.

            “Well, hi there friend,” I said sarcastically towards the pirate who now stood flabbergasted by my, well my existence “is there anything I can help you with friend?” I glued on a wide grin, my teeth each taking on a dark and dangerous appearance. I stood up from the rocking chair teeth still shining an almost sadistically cruel smile.

            “Who the hell are you?” the frightened pirate sputters out almost too quickly to understand. I noticed him take a step back and reach into his pocket. I took a step forward, and he took another one back, his hand still concealing what was obviously a gun. Leila made her impression with a loud bark. Leila was honestly harmless with a bark much louder than her bite. To be honest she just wanted to make a new friend, but the sound was enough to get the pirate to draw his weapon. It was a Glock, a small caliber hand gun. I knew about them through studies. They carried 7 nine millimeter bullets and had an average size barrel. I could also tell he had never actually used it before. His hand shook at the wrist causing the barrel to not remain straight.

He fired; it was a wild shot with little to no aim. I looked at him the entire time and noticed his eyes were closed. I took that moment to let Leila go. She began to bark wildly at our uninvited guest. I then made my move and swung the chain towards his wrist. His blood began to flow and he screamed in pain.

He finally looked at me again. I kept that plastic smile on my face, bright and unfeeling. He reached for the gun with his uninjured hand dropping the bag of my valuables. I swung another shot cutting that wrist. He stood up to find me to close for comfort with the chain wrapped around my fist and that dark sadistic smile on my face. I punched him hard in the face with the chain, causing the blood to flow red from his face.

At that point he cut his losses and ran towards the stairs. I made sure to leave him with a parting gift as I took another swing catching his leg just above his Achilles tendon. I looked down and saw he forgot his gun. I stared at it and a funny thought came in my head. How will he fight without his Glock? So when I walked up the stairs and saw him climbing through the open window in my brother’s room, he saw me and began to rush. I tossed him his gun which he grabbed and kept running. I watched from the window as he climbed down the ladder.

I did not need to kill him. I honestly didn’t. That was the infecteds’ job. I told you that they could smell raw flesh from a mile and a half away. Well that was all I really needed. With in seconds the zombies were after him.  I watched from the window as this man hopelessly attempted to outrun the undead. He wasted his last few shots on the undead missing the head every time. As the zombies grabbed at him, I saw him look up at me, where I stood in the window with that dark gruesome grin on my face. Then I closed the blinds and heard him give out a final shout in agony.

I wake up from the flash back standing in front of the garage door fully armed with Leila at my side ready to run. I look at my feet to see the decapitated body of this creature staring at me. Then look at Leila who is looking back waiting for me to move. I push the alarm button and hear as the infected move away from the garage. Then I push the trunk opener and wait a second. Then I take one last breath and push the garage door opener. The chains once again began to creek to life; sun began to streak across the ground filling the room with a yellowish glow. I could clearly see the car sitting in the sun, trunk open and alarm ringing loudly. There were ten zombies crashing and shouting at the car as if the vehicle will shout back. They were attracting others, I could hear them coming and I knew my time was limited. Rather than kill all of them I decided to take down the two standing scratching at the trunk.

The two were very different. The one on my left was very large and masculine, broad thick shoulders covered by a white t-shirt witch a hole in the back from where it looks like he was bitten. Next to him is what was, once a young girl. It was short and the thing could not have been older than eleven when she was bitten. The creature’s shirt is had at some point been pink but now is a rusty brown from blood and mud. The small zombie’s hair still tied up in pig tails. They are both facing away from me distracted by the alarm ringing in what seemed to be a distant land.

Suddenly I felt my legs begin to move without my mind controlling it. I took my first swing at the back of the head of the first creature puncturing its skull and sending the dark brown blood flying. His big body hit the ground quickly, getting the attention of the other nine. The little girl turn quickly, only for me to jab her with the butt end of the now blood soaked woodpecker scythe. This I followed with a vertical shot to the top of her head. The spike came crashing down through her skull and sticking out of it’s neck. A nice pull brought the spike out through her face. I jumped into the car Leila close behind. Pulling the trunk shut I turn off the alarm. I breathe heavily and sit there for what feels like hours. All sounds drain from the area and my mind goes blank. I stare at Leila as she barks at the infected. More begin to join the group. I am now up to twelve, not including the two I just took out. My body is shaking and Adrenaline is rolling through my body like a jolt to my heart. I begin to breath heavy and feel my chest going up and down in a melodic rhythm.

Leila jumps to the front sit and watches me as I furiously fold down the back chairs, showing the true size of my car. I smile as everything is folded and flat making almost a floor like back. With everything ready I look out the window and the number of infected now charging the car has grown immensely. I feel the fear begin to grip my chest, but quickly push it away. I breathe in heavily and open the trunk. My heart races as hands reach in and are knocked out do to the help of a knuckle duster. I jump from the car close the trunk. I use the momentum and swing with the knuckle duster breaking the jaw of the closest infected, a relatively large thing, fat with blood drooling all over his face and chest. Running I enter the garage and push the button to close it. Dropping the knuckle duster I prepare the war hammers for the few that may make it through. The first one is another small one that was once a child. His face showing a gross disfiguring scar from his bite. With one swipe to the skull the head goes crashing hard to the ground pooling in a puddle of brown blood. Following the small zombie are three more the big one with the now busted jaw, then two undamaged targets. Momentum is on my side now and I plan to keep it. With the first strike of the hammer to back of the head, the one with busted jaw skull shatters spraying the blood and bones across my face and clothing.

I move to pull it out to encounter the second member of the infected but I am stuck deep in the skull. I panic and use the other hammer to swing at the throat of the second infected tearing up muscle but it was not deep enough to kill. I drop both hammers and pull out the knife to finish the job. Jumping at the infected, the knife breaks the exposed vertebrae and decapitates the undead. Finally turning I pull the pitchfork and jam it through the eye sockets of the last zombie killing hitting the brain just enough to kill it with ease.

My breath is heavy. My body is caked blood and sweat. Yet everything seems to be in slow-motion as adrenaline rushes through my blood. I ache and shake but there is no time to stop. Pick up the blood covered weapons and I walk into the house. Cleo is sitting in the large bag on Leila’s bed. She seems quite comfortable and I don’t want to bother her. So I zip the bag up over her body. She begins moaning from inside the bag. Ignoring it I through the bag over my shoulders and strap myself to it. Next I walk to the freezer and begin throwing as much meat as I can into a small string bag. This should take away a few of the zombies but I am worried about my weight. I will be a lot slower this time. Fatigue has gotten to me as well as the weight of the bag pressing down on my spine.

With the bag full I walk to the garage and stand once again by the door as they crank and creak open. Shock and fear overwhelm all senses as I gaze into the hoard of the infected that number well over 40. The alarm is sounding yet they are after me already. My legs go stiff, I want to run, but my legs will not let me like I am glued to the spot. I want to run, I want to fight, and I want to live! I want to live!

My legs spring to life and I dive in to the crowd of the infected. Throwing myself at them one after another I move with a new found energy. Every time one falls two more take it’s place. In a last attempt I throw the bag of raw meat as far from the car as I can. Many turn towards it and begin a frantic charge to fight over the bag. The ones who stayed were distracted. I took this chance to dash towards the car taking down any in my path. The trunk opens and I hop in. Something grabs my leg, I turn and one member of the infected is desperately trying to chew off my ankle. I panic and unsheathe the blade on my back. Thrusting the knife through the hand brown blood began to flow. I was sick of seeing the blood already today. My body was covered in it. I smelled of it. I felt it warm against my skin like water.

Moving quickly I kicked the body out of the trunk and began shutting the trunk door. Another hand shoved its way through. I closed the door on the arm, then open and close it again; smashing it against the floor cracking the bone, again and again. I kicked it out and closed it finally.

I sit there lost for a moment. Sitting there staring out the back of the car as the undead push against the glass. All sounds begin to fade away. All except one my heartbeat, which is pushing heavily against my rib cage. The infected have a heart beat. It is soft and does not change. The sole purpose of this beat is to send their dirty blood around their body to give the virus more to feed off of. There is no feeling behind that slow rhythmic beat. There are no emotions they can call there on. For the undead the heart is nothing but a muscle; for me that beat was everything.

Leila barks and snaps me back into reality. I look around the car and see what is now an army of dysfunctional disfigured creatures slamming up against each other trying to get to a piece of meat. I am that meat. Jumping to the front I buckle in. “Safety first” I chuckle to myself as I hit the ignition and push the gas hard. The car rolls down the driveway followed by the mob of the infected. I hit the end of my street and turn right hitting the gas to go sixty.

The group slowly disappears in my rear view. I keep driving for a few more minutes. My head is reeling and shouting at me not to go back. Why turn around. I should never return to the swarm, back to this battle I do not want to fight. Yet there is one more animal in that house and it is mine. I will be god damned if I let my pet die that way. I hit the brakes hard causing Leila to fall forward in her seat next to me. I switch to reverse and turn the car back towards the house. I hit the gas hard and Leila lurches back in her seat knocking her off balance. Crying from the back as the bag turns over on its side. I make the left turn and go straight into the hoard of the undead.

The garage door opens in sync with the sounds of my car running over the infected. I smile as each body hits the dashboard then disappears under the wheels. It comes across as sadistic and cruel but these are not people. They were but now they are not. I feel no pity ending this waste of an existence and smile with every body I destroy. The car bumps and shakes over the decapitated bodies that litter the driveway.  I pull into the garage too quickly barely avoiding crashing to the walls and door. I run out and hit the button closing it with as much force that I hear the plastic crack. I don’t stop hitting the cracked button. The door is closed but I am still smashing away at it.

The only thing which stops me is the pain when the button breaks and falls dangling by its wire. I look at it and feel silly when I realize I was screaming like a lunatic. My hand is bruising and it is warm to the touch. The sting is a distraction a way to procrastinate. I won’t stand for it. I open the door slamming it up against the wall. Babe is sitting there waiting for me. He knows we are leaving. I pull the cat crate out of the closet. It is a light blue plastic crate with a clear plastic top. There are three holes on each side so Babe could breath in it. I am putting him in this because he will try and run if I don’t. So I toss him in with a towel and close the top. The sound of his light voice comes from the crate as he tries to make his escape. I walk back to the car put the cat in the trunk and start it up.

“Mission one accomplished” I smile as a cynical laugh escapes my lips. The garage creaks to life for the last time and I back out quickly, taking down everything in my path. Hitting the bottom the car bounces and bobs and jumps. I switch to drive close the garage and speed off into the bright white abyss.

Infected the series Book 1 chapter 1

Chapter 1

                          

I think it’s kind of funny to say that I was prepared for this. Honestly, I really do chuckle when I think about how it was only six months ago my friends and I would make jokes about it. But now those jokes were how I had to live. I wake up in my bed each morning and look out the window. Each day the amount of people shrink and the infected grow. Three months ago my parents became part of this group. My brother went shortly after them. I live alone. Well not really, it’s me my dog Leila and two cats Cleo and Babe. My only connection to the outside world is my cell phone. The infected don’t go near the towers so there is still connection. I think the electrical lines bother them so they don’t go near them. There used to be television but as the amount of people living decreased TV became less important. I use the internet sometimes but rarely. I prefer the phone. Hearing my friends’ voices reminds me that I’m still alive and so are they. I looked on the internet, someone has updated the statistics. The last guy died I think. He had not updated for a week before this. The Stats used to be small, two percent infected, seven percent infected. Then the numbers changed drastically, 25 percent 38 percent. I remember when it became even fifty, fifty. That was when government officially shut down. It was like every one on earth went absolutely crazy. Sorry that was just putting it bluntly. Without Government there was no police, no firemen, no army or any hospitals. On the first night we heard someone break in my dad ran downstairs with a bat. He turned the light on. There he saw a woman with two girls standing behind her. When I walked down she was standing in front of them with a knife pointed shakily at my dad. She looked scared and hungry. Her girls had stolen some food from the cabinet. They were eating it furiously. My dad dropped the bat at his feet. The woman stared at him puzzled my dad was much larger and stronger than she was and you could tell she knew it.

            “Why would you lower your weapon to me? I could kill you if I want?” She finally said her voice shook as she spoke. The pitch was high and really effeminate Not the kind of voice you would expect from someone that would point a knife at you.

            “I know you could.” My fathers face was calm; his voice was cool and collected “But I know that you won’t.” he did not flinch as she stepped towards us.

            “What makes you so sure” She as trying to sound threatening but clearly was not. She was a very small woman and the closer she got the more you noticed it.

            “I know because…” my dad said as he gently pushed the knife down “you are not a killer you are just hungry.” Of course my dad was right; you could see it on his face. There was a silence long and tense. It finally broke as the woman dropped the knife and began to cry. My father and I stayed with them and watched as they ate like they haven’t eaten in days, probably because they haven’t. They lived with us for a little while. I became very close with her daughters. One of them was pretty close to my age about two years younger than me. Her name was Stephanie. The other one was about six years younger than me. Before they left I got both of their phone numbers and they became part of my group that I talked to on a daily basis. It was strange watching them go.

            Today though when I went on the stats were upsetting yesterday was only 72 percent but today it was and even eighty to twenty. I sat down and just stared at this pie chart for what felt like hours. I just sat there I felt the world around me disappear except for me and this chart in a mental face-off. It is very hard to keep your spirits up in such dark days. I often find myself asking why I am still alive what purpose do I serve. Suddenly I hear a sound break though the blackness. I look on the desk my phone is ringing. I look down front and I see the name on the front screen. “MATT ROBERTS” says in large black letters. Matt was always a close friend before the infection broke out. He was a tall almost lanky guy but under that was muscle a lot of it. His hair was black and his eyes showed off this massive intellect. Before the infection broke out Matt and I would discuss the idea of it and how we would deal with it. We agreed that when it came we would keep in contact. He was the first I called when the news broke. Then when the government shut down. Then when my parents became infected. Now he was calling me. It was a relief to hear from him.

            “Hello” I said with a bit of tension in my voice.

            “Hey Sam have you seen the stats today?” He seems pretty excited about them.

            “Yeah, they are kind of depressing”

            “I am the one who edited them” which explains the excitement he was showing. It was always a big deal to be the one who edits them. It lets the world know that you are there.  “So how’s it going by you?” he says as his voice goes from fun to business. I can sense what he is trying to say.

            “You want to start moving now, don’t you?” I said I already knew the answer but I had to humor him. There was a long silence it was not an easy thing to do there was a large amount of planning involved it wasn’t going to just happen and we knew it.

            “Yes” he says finally, and just like that the silence comes back as we both realize the scope of our endeavor. We will need people, food, weapons, supplies, vehicles, clothing; all these things require contact with the infected. That was not something that could be done easily. The infected were violently hungry and will kill for a taste of flesh. Worst of all they were not killed too easily. “Then lets start packing I will begin to make calls to the others who are still alive.” just like that the conversation ended. We rarely said goodbye it meant we were not going to see each other again, so we avoided using it. I looked down and Leila was looking at me. She wanted to go to the bathroom. Back before the infection it would just be pretty easy, let her out watch her then let her in.  Now it was different. I went into the garage and found one of my projects the woodpecker scythe as I called her was a five foot six wooden pole with a nice curved spike at the end that rolled down to remind me of the scythe that the grim reaper carries around. I closed the door behind me and Leila and I stood there together in the closed garage. I stared at her and then I pushed the button. The metallic chains creaked to life and the light automatically turned on. It is bright out. The sun is shining and the sky is blue. Today is the perfect spring day. That pisses me off. I feel like it would be better if it were like the movies. You open the door and the zombies are waiting for you in a red sky black tree hellhole. This just seems like it does not fit the mood. Leila and I walk out onto the grass and she begins to sniff for that perfect spot to do her business. As we walk the sound of the infected coming towards us is growing. Usually they begin in small numbers, but today sounds different. As Leila and I keep walking I see the first one down the street. It looks like my neighbor but I know it’s not him. My neighbor was killed by his wife after she was bit. As this thing began running I got the scythe ready. I look down and Leila is still at my side sniffing around she was close to her spot and you could tell. As I look back up I see how close it has gotten. I wait. I clench my fist and hold my ground. I have to wait till it’s with in range. Eleven feet, hold it. Nine feet, hold it, seven feet, hold it. Then finally; swing! I hit the thing directly across the face as the spike goes through the zombies head. I then pull and the head flies clear off. Unfortunately that is just the beginning and I know it. I turn and there is another one. I step back and take another swing. It hits this one in the side and I knock the thing over onto its side in the follow through one final shot to the head kills it. I turn and suddenly another one right on top of me. I know the face and in a heartbeat block it out of my mind. I jab it in the face but the shock knocks me back. I look at Leila and she is almost done. I get back up and take a wild swing. I didn’t expect to hit it but it just gave me momentum. Leila finishes and begins to run toward the garage. I am not far behind but unfortunately neither is the zombie. Leila and I get into the garage and I push the button furiously. It seems like the garage is taking forever to close. When it gets about halfway down the zombie reaches us crawling through the door as it closes on its back. It keeps closing pushing down on this creature’s back; Screeching it keeps trying to push towards us. The sounds are attracting others. I stare empty of feeling just in shock. I raise the scythe high over my head and bring it down over its head ending the screeching forever.

            I walk inside and close the door hard behind me. Leila walks behind me giving a final look at the now decapitated body lying in the garage. Inside I finally catch my breath. My encounters with the infected always leave me shaken but this was really bad. I sit down and open my fridge. Food, I really was hungry I have not eaten yet and did not know how much time I would have before I had to begin packing. So I took most of the food in the refrigerator and made a giant last meal. I ate everything that could not be brought with me. I also fed Leila, Cleo, and Babe, they were coming with me. I am not going to leave my animals to die. I looked at my phone and began making calls.

            Most did not pick up or the phones went straight to voicemail which usually meant they were dead. Finally I got to Lucas; Lucas was one of my closest friends but after the infection broke out him and his girlfriend Danielle fled to Vermont where Lucas had a lot of weapons mostly guns and throwing knives. Danielle and Lucas were pretty safe up there so I made the call. I sit there and listen as it rings. The phone rings once, twice on the third I begin to lose hope that my friend honestly made it. Finally, I hear a shuffling.

            “What” Lucas sounds like I just woke him up I look at the clock and see that it is twelve already. He is such a lazy person. I sort of envy his ability to sleep late; there are nights where I just lay awake and think about all that has happened and what will happen tomorrow. I think why in gods name should I wake up tomorrow, why I would want to get out of bed? Yet here is Lucas able to sleep in late and enjoy his night.

            “Matt Roberts and I are planning on going to find a permanent group” I say

            “No” he says then there is a silence I look at my phone and see that he hung up. I am quick to call back “Sam, listen Danielle and I are quite safe here why would we ever think of leaving” He made a point Lucas was one of the few people I knew with guns and he could shoot them well.

“There is power in numbers you and I know that.” He sighs over the phone seeing that I won’t drop this. He knows that I am stubborn. “You guys could just drive down here and-

            No we will not leave, you guys would have to come to us. Speaking of who do you guys have?”

            “No one yet”

            “No” I look at the phone he hung up again. I hit the redial and it rings. “Listen get people come here and maybe”

            “Will do” then we hung up. I knew that it was the best I was going to get from him and honestly I was not really in the mood to fight with Lucas.

Just like that began going through my contacts and found Erik. Erik was a friend of mine from school. He and my other friend Casey decided that the best thing to do was as soon as the Infection broke out they were going to take over a warehouse and lock themselves and everything that was in there inside. It was Erik, Casey and Erik’s girlfriend Kayleigh. I rarely called them I knew they were alive so I rarely had to. This is different I have a proposal for them. I push call and the phone rings and Kayleigh picks up. I know it’s her by the way she answers “Sammy” she really was the only one who called me that but I did not mind we were close friends. Honestly I knew her a lot longer than Erik so I preferred to hear from her.

            “Hey Kayleigh, is Erik around?” I ask

            “You’re on speaker” I hear Erik in the background

            “Why are you calling” Casey asks. He was always no nonsense when he wanted to be. He could be pretty scary and I try to speak but feel as though there is something stuck in my throat. “Sam!”

            “Matt Roberts and I are creating a stable group, want to join us?” I rush out of my mouth.

            “Sam, we have shelter, food, and weapons if we need them but we don’t so why would we risk danger?” Casey says. He was right they were really safe and honestly I did not have an answer, well not one that could convince them anyway.

            “Listen Sammy if you guys need any help or supplies we have extra and could always give you something” Kayleigh says

            “I might have to take you up on that offer” I had no idea what that meant but it seemed like a nice way to say thanks without actually saying it. Just like that the call ended and the contacts screen rolled up, there were calls to make and next on that list was my friend Sean Ackerman.  Sean lived the closest to my house and I was really hoping he was still alive. Last I heard he was in a pretty bad place mentally. I remember the call from him.

            He called me in tears and he spoke so quickly that it was almost impossible to understand him. After he finally calmed down he explained the story. It was a story which unfortunately was common for most of the survivors. He came home one day and his family was gathered around his little sister. She was lying on the couch with a blanket on top of her. She was shivering cold and screaming in pain. On her shoulder was a small bite with blood dripping out of it. Her parents were sitting over her and trying to clean the wound. They were trying desperately to do anything that they could to prevent the inevitable, she was infected. She had all of the signs the bite, the cold sweat, the screaming, and the hunger. Sean was the only one who did the right thing. He grabbed his sword and locked himself in the basement. The sounds upstairs became gruesome and sick. Then he decided to do another thing right. He called me and after I calmed him down I came over.

When I walked in the sight was sickening. I saw his sister sitting on over the bodies of her own parent with their blood all over. I called out to him to let him know I was there. I knew I had little time before his parents rose as part of the infected. I did not really bring too much. Unfortunately this was before the woodpecker scythe so all I had with me was the war hammer. It was just an old hammer that I had so I took it and bent the sharp side with pliers then sharpened them to a fine point. It was great for close range but was a bit short. As I went to the basement door she jumped at me. I side stepped and swung downward with the dull end of the hammer. It was a direct shot in the back of the creatures head. Its body hit the ground hard stomach first. You could hear the crack in the skull where the brain used to be. The zombie was quick and grabbed at my ankle ready to bite I reached down and got its wrist hard enough to hear the bone crack. It let out an incredible screech in pain. The disgusting brown blood of the infected began to flow from this creatures arm. I took advantage of the release and ran to the higher ground of the stairs. By the time I got to them the zombie was up and running after me. It is backing me up. I swing and knock the arm away then I make the turn and with the sharp edge go straight down the top of the zombies head. I hear stirring from the other room. His parents must be awake. I hurry and pull back the hammer as bits of skull fly out of the creatures head along with a geyser of rotten brown blood spits out of the hole I just made. When the dead creature finally fell forward defeated the other two were right behind it. I looked at their arm length and realized that their arms were too long for me to hit them without being grabbed for it. I make a run for it and jump the railing. I fall and hit the ground wrong. I can feel my ankle twist but there was no time to stop. The adrenaline was running through my body like a raging river of energy. I pushed myself toward the living room. They were right behind me so I turned and took my chance at the first zombie in front. I hit it with the sharp edge in the arm and pulled out a chunk of muscle and now useless nerve. The arm fell to its side but it didn’t stop the rotten thing. What it did do for me was give me an open side to swing at. I took full advantage of my opening and moved to the side and caught the creature in the back of the head and pulled it to the ground. I tried to pull the hammer out but it seemed to be stuck on the back of the skull. There was no time to try and un-wedge it. So I turned and left it. I was now without any protection and one angry zombie behind me. There was only one place to run. The kitchen is the best place to find weapons. Usually people keep knives there and some of them are pretty big.

The only problem was that this was not my kitchen; I had no idea where to find these knives. I began pulling at draws sending supplies on the floor but there were no really sharp knives, just a few small butter knives. I looked to the last corner where the last draw lay unopened. I knew that you were never supposed to corner yourself but if I could get to the knives then it would all be worth it. I pulled at the door but it was stuck. I could see the handles inside but I could not get to one. It was closing in and there was no longer anywhere to run. I was trapped I could now feel the cold hand grab tightly. I closed my eyes and was prepared for death When, the creature suddenly let out a screech that I had never heard. It was a blood curdling yell which could be heard for miles. I opened my eyes and the dirty brown blood was spraying everywhere. I could not figure it out till I looked down at the creature’s torso. There was Sean’s sword tip speared through it. I pulled at the draw where my other hand was still gripping the handle and it shot open. I grabbed the largest knife I saw and stabbed it straight into the mouth of the screaming beast silencing it forever. As the zombie fell I saw Sean standing behind covered in the same brown blood I was. His face was red and there was a mixture of emotion on it; relief that I was alright and a sense of grief and mourning in the loss of his entire family. We embraced in a hug filled with gratitude. Then we both washed the blood off of ourselves and sat down in his basement away from the carnage of the battle. Something had changed in Sean, he no longer cried and was filled with rage towards the infected killing with pure brutality. He was cold and lonely.

            Our conversation was short and simple I asked if he was ok and he said he needed somewhere to stay for a bit. I invited him and he joined me for a few weeks. Now as I look at his name in my phone I plan on inviting him to join me on a much larger journey.

“Sean?” I say cautiously into the phone.

“What is up Sam how is it going?”

“I am quite ok Ackerman.” I say in a sarcastic gentleman’s accent. “I come baring a business proposal which my dear friend I doubt you will want to pass up.” I kept the scholarly charade going for as long as I could. I got a good kick out of it for some reason. It was simple yet so fun.

            “What is it Sam?” I guess he was not enjoying my accent as much as I was but I kept it going.

            “Well if you must know, Matthew Roberts and yours truly have decided that it would be in our benefit-“

            “Get to the point Sam!” I could hear the frustration in his voice and I decided rather than keep my fun joke going I would humor him.

            “I was going to but I was so rudely interrupted.” I sarcastically respond but then I cut the joking. “Matt and I are creating a group, you want in?”

            “Fine.” He sighs clearly still frustrated but trying to keep some composure “What do I need?” I had not really thought about it. I have not even begun packing myself.

            “Um, my suggestions are canned foods, clothes, stuff like toothpaste and most importantly as many weapons as you have.” Then I realize I need to pick him up “I will be there in an hour, I will call you before I leave.” There is a long silence on the line; it ends finally with one word

            “Ok” with that one word the conversation ended and it was time for me to begin packing.