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A teen fights for survival in a zombie infested world. |
| The bell rang and Gabe shot up and out the door of the Raven Wood High classroom like a grey hound out of the gate. Mr. Wickman, the typical "white and nerdy" middle-aged physics teacher, barely escaped Gabe's bolt from the room just managed to get out of the way of door as it was flung open. "Gabriel...you're..." was all he could manage before losing sight of one of his favorite, although more distracted students. Gabe had been testing jet fuel for the Navy as part of science fair project over the last couple of years. He spent most of the first year building a canon to test the fuel and the rest of the time blasting rubber-stoppers across the football field and practice field. The thundering booms produced by the canon along with the close proximity to neighboring houses raised quite the stir, eventually leading to him being forced to build a smaller canon that could be fired indoors. Some success was had with the project; he won the State Science Fair, had placed top 10 in the National Science Fair and was expected to make the International Science Fair this year. Even with all the work he did on his project and how much he seemed to enjoy it, Gabe never really could apply himself in the classroom but Mr. Wickman saw his potential. This was the season Gabe enjoyed the most, late May when the school year was close to an end, the sun was getting strong and the days long. He hopped down the stairs leading to main entrance of the school and headed across the street. As he stepped onto the street he noticed Becky Haataja (pronounced Hottie-ah, most of the boys left off the second syllable), she was bent over talking to someone in a new red Mustang across the street. He knew it was her without seeing her face, he'd been caught staring at her rear-end since seventh grade, he could probably identify her by ass alone from three blocks away. She was clearly the most popular girl in school with movie star looks and being captain of the cheer leading team, which meant Gabe had no shot. Even so Gabe tried to get her attention and luckily he was seated next to her in physics class. A whole quarter went by and he hadn't even mustered up the gumption to start a conversation, he was pretty sure the only thing he'd accomplished was making himself look like creep. In mid stare a voice shot from across the road, "My mom once said staring at something won't make it yours!" It was Lizzy, Gabe's best friend since kindergarten. "I'm not.....it was the car, the Mustang!" Lizzy was always the token girl in Gabe's circle of friends and constantly ribbed the boys about their obvious and not always respectful admiration of girls. She herself was a proud tomboy and at times might go as far as being a feminist. She would sometimes get annoyed with the boys talks about girls, but she was always there and as much a part of the group as anyone else. Most importantly she understood Gabe better than anyone and he could trust her to keep a secret and he likewise for her. He never really thought of her that way but she might be considered pretty if it were not for the black clothes, hair, pale complexion enhanced by dark eye makeup and the fact that should be as ornery as a sow bear with cubs in tow. “See you tonight at Spence's?”, she shouted. “Yeah, I'll be there, despite you.” “Later then.”, Lizzy waived and a continued up the street. “Later.” It was warm, the sun felt good on his back, and all things were normal in his white picketed fence neighborhood. Gabe took the same route home as he did almost every day, through the alley, River's Edge Park, and down Bauer's Hill to his front door. He hopped up onto the newly painted porch and headed for the front door. Gabe was a little startled to see the door agape, it was flung inward, and the shade was knocked lopsided. A pile of mail rested on the threshold, like it had just been tossed there by a hurried mailman. He picked up the mail, and stepped into the house. He knew how much his mother hated it when he forgot to close the door. The house was out of order, like someone ransacked the entryway and living room. The table that should be next to the door was tossed aside in pieces. The living room rug was bunched up and dragged into the hall. As he was came through the entryway, Gabe heard something that sounded like wheezing, emanating from the living room. He crept up slowly to the doorway trying not to make any noise, slowly leaned his head out, and around the door jamb peaking one eye around the corner. The living room was trashed, the TV was on the floor, mom's angel figurines were strewn across the room, and the large steel, Gothic style lamp was knocked over on the couch. The next cushion over from the lamp, Gabe found the source of the wheezing; it was his father. He sat on the couch with the phone in his hand; he looked deathly ill, sweating profusely, jaw clinched tight, and shaking. He must have come home from work early, it was only three o'clock and he still wore his "Jim's Auto" work shirt. Gabe, a little shaken, stepped around the corner and asked, "Dad, what's wrong? Are you OK?" His father winced and said, "I'm OK. I'm just feeling a bit like I have a touch of the flu. Did you see your mother?” Gabe was certain that his Dad was minimizing how sick he really was. Making things worse was that his mother was supposed to be home after being in Japan for business for the last week. His dad's pain was obvious, every little twitch seemed more intense than the last, and when he talked blood could be seen flowing down his gums, staining his teeth brick red. "Are you sure you're fine? Your mouth is bleeding. What happened here, Dad? Is Mom OK?" "When I came home, I found your mother upstairs lying in the hallway, Gabe, she wasn't breathing. She had no pulse; her skin was so cold. I picked her up and was going to drive her to the hospital but she woke up halfway down the stairs...." In a half cry wrapped in confusion, Gabe cut off his father and said, "What? She's dead?" Gabe couldn't tell whether if his father was crying or it was just sweat pouring down his face. "Son, I don't know...... When she woke up, she went all crazy, like a wild animal. She bit me pretty bad." He pulled the blood soaked collar of his shirt back; it revealed what looked like a large, swollen bite mark on his lower neck. "I tried holding her down, but she was too strong. She kept trying to bite me, so I locked myself in the bathroom. The sounds she made...were... inhuman." His father seemed to be losing consciousness, but continued "She was trying to beat the door down. I thought the hinges were going to come or something." He stopped to take a deep breath so that he could finish "Then I heard someone on the porch. Whoever it was she went after them. Someone was screaming, but eventually it stopped." Gabe tried to compose himself, but trepidation surged over him "I'm calling 911!" His Dad shook the phone in his hand, "I already did, and they said they'd be here soon. That was an hour ago." He was ravaged by another coughing fit then continued, "I tried to call them back just before you got home, but it just rang and rang, no answer, so I hung up." Gabe knew that his father needed to get to the emergency room. Blood was starting to seep from his skin like he had sprung a leak and his coloring was that of a corpse. Bruises were forming around his joints and his eyes were cloaked in crimson fluid. He gently took the blood covered phone from his father's stiff, ice cold hand and began to dial 911. It rang and rang, finally an answer. "Hello, you have reached the McLeod county Emergency Services". The voice was sterile and rehearsed. There was a pause. Gabe was relieved "Please, I need help, my Dad, he's sick....." the voice cut him off mid sentence. "The governor has declared a state of emergency; please turn to TV channel 2 or radio channel 103.1 FM for news and locations of emergency aid posts. Thank you." The message started to play again, from the beginning "Hello, you have reached......." Gabe hung up and slammed the phone on the ground, annoyed with the cheery "thank you". He cursed. "Shit! Thank you?" Today was to be special; Dad was going to take him out driving legally for the first time since he earned his permit. He dreamed the entire year about driving and getting his license. Dad, as excited as he was, started fixing up the old Sun Bird parked next the garage. It was going to be his first car - when he turned sixteen. In the course of a day, his whole world went straight to hell. What happened to his mother? Why was his father so ill? State of emergency? Had the whole world gone to hell? These are all questions bouncing around in his head. No time to find answers. Looking around he blurted "Dad, where are the car keys?" "Huh? I can't drive Gabe; I can hardly see." he grunted, voice crackling. "I'll drive you to the hospital." Dad looked up and waved towards the kitchen door "They're in the kitchen, on the counter, I think." Gabe stepped, turned and ran to the kitchen. Just as he was entering the door he heard pans crashing to the floor. He stopped in his tracks and pushed the door open, just enough to peak through. His eye stabbed around as much of the room as he could see through the small opening. The blue and white checkered floor tiles glistened, lit by the afternoon sun coming in through the windows. He swung his eyes right, toward the black granite counter, and scanned from one end to the other. Nothing; the kitchen seemed to be empty. Gabe slowly opened the door and looked around moving his head back and forth in paranoia. The back door was wide open, an unseasonably cool breeze whisking across the kitchen floor and around his ankles. Muddy, bare foot prints lead up to where the pans were knocked off the wall hangers. Looking at the prints, it appeared the person was dragging one foot and shuffling with the other. The prints lead away, around the corner and towards the hallway to the basement. "There ain't no way, I'm following those" he said under his breath. Gabe, relieved to see the keys were on the counter, crossed the kitchen in a flash. As his hand touched the keys, he heard a loud growling sound coming from behind him, form the basement hallway. The growl sounded more like a choke mixed with a grunt, a sound a beast my make. He snapped around, eyes widened with fear, to find his mother standing there eying him. Her eyes were covered with waxy film, but he could still see her dark brown eyes through it. She had blood stains all over her face, small pieces of what looked like meat caked with blood, stuck to her cheek. She was still wearing her suit, but one arm was torn off and a huge gash had been taken out of her arm. Blood stained the front of the white blouse, in the sloppy way a toddler would eat. His mother was missing her shoes and her right foot dragged behind while the left shuffled forward. Her skin was white and pale, but nearly black around the eyes as if she had been bashed in the face. A terrible smell of rotten meat permeated the room. It made him wretch. One of her hands was clutching a red, dripping piece of flesh and the other a blood stained, blue piece of cloth. She took a ragged, lopsided step forward and raised the flesh to her mouth taking a ravenous bite. Gabe's jaw slackened in disbelief as he backed away. "Mom? What's wrong with you?!" His eyes widened with tears welling up inside. His mother looked at him; let her arm holding the flesh fall straight down. When her arm reach full extension (knuckles towards the floor), she let her grip on the flesh go. The result was a sickening "splop" sound. She tilted her head to the side, let out a gurgle, and then flung herself at Gabe. She was surprisingly quick and snatched up Gabe's arm and began to pull him closer. Her grip was strong as iron: He could not break free. Gabe was inches from the edge of panic. His, once loving, mother is now some sort of mindless beast. She kept dragging him closer, despite his best effort to break free, with her mouth open. In a last ditch attempt to reason with her he screamed," Mom, what are you doing! I'm your son, Gabe! Leave me alone!" Suddenly, she stopped pulling and gurgling. The slightest bit of relief went through his mind as he saw the look on his mother's face change. Just a second ago she was racked with rage and bestial fury. Now her expression was calm, a hint of recognition showing through. It seemed like her motherly instincts were kicking in as what appeared to be a tear trickled down her cheek. He noticed her mechanical grip loosen a bit and decided it the time for escape now or never. With all of his strength he yanked his arm free. His tactic backfired, as his defiance only enraged her more. As Gabe snapped away, her hands lashed out like whips and latched on. She drove him backward so fast their feet tangled, duping both of them to the floor in a heap. She leaned forward, stretching her neck towards his face, jaw open, teeth shown. The noxious stench of death exuded from her mouth stinging his eyes. He was able to fend off her bites with a good stiff-arm to the forehead. Somehow he managed to get both feet underneath, against her belly. Gabe exploded with all the strength in his legs bouncing his mother up and backward onto her feet. She stumbled a bit and caught her balance. Just as she started her lunge towards Gabe, a large figure stepped in the open door. The light from the sun hid his identity, but his heavy boots announced his presence on the kitchen tile. Before his mother could react, the stranger lifted the implement in his hands above his head. The light coming in the window above the door highlighted the weapon, which laid the shadow of a cross on its target. With a swatting stroke, the stranger brought down the cross down on Gabe's mother. The blow struck her square on top of the head with a nauseating thud, spraying blood and brain matter across the room. His mother's smitten body crumbled to the floor, still and cold. The massive figure in the doorway took another step forward out of the blinding sun that hid his identity. Gabe spat, “Leaf! Jesus Christ, what did you just do?” “Sorry Dude, your mom or not she's one of those things and she'd have killed you, maybe me.” Then rumbling noises started coming from the living room, then there was a painful howl and the door leading to the living room flew open, nearly taking it of the hinges. There stood Gabe's Dad, dripping fluids with a deadly disposition. His shirt was ripped open exposing his bare torso that was not covered in blood. The fatherly, stern look was gone from his contorted face replaced by bared teeth as he lurched toward Leaf. Leaf's hand flashed into his heavy leather black trench-coat and exited it with a 1911 model, silver plated handgun. Without even the slightest hint of a thought Leaf raised his arm, pulled the trigger and watched his neighbor's skull and filling splatter across the wall behind him. |
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