ILLNESS (Zombie Apocalypse)

Chapter 6

Travis arrived close to home and turned up his street. Some of the homes on his block had boards on the windows. Others had broken windows and doors wide open with blood streaked on the outside. A few cars were gone but most of them still sat in driveways with there trunks open with personal items inside and scattered around. Some people were on the street. He eased slowly to the end of the street. His front door was swung wide open. Windows were shattered. The sense of dread overtook him. He pulled into the driveway turning off the ignition. Unlocking the door he put his hands on the steering will and took a deep breath. Suddenly two bloody bony stubs smacked the window. Travis jerked over letting go of the steering wheel. The thing standing there couldn't be a living person. Most of its face was missing. Travis could see the veins, tissue, and teeth. It's face was skeleton. Looking through the back glass he could see a mob coming up the road. Quickly he gripped the door handle until the click of the door sounded. Leaning sideways across the seat he drew his legs back and with all his might kicked the door. It swung open throwing the zombie to the ground stunning it. Quickly he jumped out and ran into his house. The door wouldn't shut, it had been knocked off its hinges.

Carter sat next to his mother wondering what he should do now. The hospital was definitely out of the question. He removed the sheet to look at her leg. The blood had coagulated around the bite. He opened the bedroom door, not looking at his father, and went to the bathroom. There was alcohol and peroxide under the sink. He took those, towels, and bandages back to where his mom lay. Putting a towel under her wounded leg he poured the peroxide and alcohol onto the wound. His mother tensed and groaned but didn't come to. He wrapped her leg with the bandages. Her skin felt hot to the touch. Touching her forehead she was burning up. He ran back to the bathroom and soaked a hand towel in cold water. He laid it on his mothers forehead. 'Now what' he thought. He looked back out the window and coming up his road was a group of at least thirty zombies. He ran to another window that overlooked the back field. There were even more coming in this direction. Carter was going to be surrounded. He loaded the gun and set it in the corner. Walking in his room he found a belt and his .357 magnum pistol. Hanging on the wall was his most prized possession. A double bladed sword. He remembered helping his dad all summer and saved his money to buy the collectors item. 'It might come in handy' he thought taking it down. Sliding it out he ran the tips of his fingers along the blade, edges are sharp. Next he needed his ammo. Finding only half a box in his dresser drawer. Sliding the sword and gun on his belt he put it it on. Next he got his duffel bag out of the closet and put in a pair of faded jeans and t-shirt. He took off his shoes and slid on his combat boots.
Going downstairs to the kitchen avoiding the blood he rummaged through the cabinets. There wasn't much food but he put what they had in the bag and took it back up to his parents bedroom. He put the rest of the ammo he could find in and laid it on the floor next to the shotgun.
Going back downstairs he needed to reinforce the doors and windows. But with what, looking around there was nothing. Remembering his dad has a handsaw in the basement. He went down and retrieved it and a claw hammer. Looking around he didn't see anything else he would need. Working his way up the stairs he dismantled them one by one until he reached the top.
The banging outside grew loud. The zombies were all around the house. Looking at his handy work he knew they would eventually get in but they wouldn't be coming up the stairs. He walked back into the bedroom where his mom lay and sit on the floor with his back against the wall on the opposite side of the room. All he could do now is wait and see what happens.

Davis left the jail. Where to go he thought. His wife had divorced him over six months ago. A bunker would come in handy he thought. I need a place to lay low. He turned his cruiser around, he would just stay at the jail tonight, it was secure. Turning around he turned straight into a horde that had been following him. He had been deep in thought and wasn't paying attention. "Shit!" he exclaimed. Throwing the car in reverse he backed up the road cutting the steering wheel sharp to turn his cruiser around. Well I don't want them following me to the jail. He weaves his way through back roads trying to leave them in his dust. The more he left behind the more he picked up around the next corner. "FUCK" he yelled smacking the steering wheel. Gunning the cruiser he hit whatever was in his way. Cracking his windshield in the process. It took him thirty minutes but he never let up until he got way out of the outskirts of town. There were still zombies here and there but nothing like in town.
A small lonely gas station sat up to his right. Pulling up to the pumps he sat there letting the motor idle. Looking around to see if there were any zombies lurking. It was hard to see in the dark but he could make out a few walking toward his car. He got out took aim with his pistol. One down, two, three. Looking around he didn't see anymore. The wind shifted and the rank odor of blood and rot hit him full force in the face. Bending over he puked until nothing else would come up. Slowly he made his way into the gas station. Lights were still on as if the people evacuated in a hurry. "Hey anybody here" he yelled. He waited listening. He didn't hear anything so he eased his way in checking isles and behind the counter. Looking for keys to the door he found them inside the register. Quickly he locked the door. After securing the place he settled down behind the counter with a can of spaghetti and a gatorade.

Tina got through washing the dishes and went to the living room. Her daughter was asleep on the couch. Not wanting to disturb her she turned off the television. Checking the locks again she went upstairs to her bedroom. She sat down on the edge of her bed and turned on the radio on her alarm clock. Static, so she kept moving the dial until finally getting a broadcast. "The illness has the power to reanimate dead bodies of the contaminated," Tina gasped and her hands covered her mouth. "The contaminated will not respond to reasoning. Refrain from physical contact with the ill. The contamination is fatal if your bitten, scratched, or ingest bodily fluids. We are barricaded in our studio and will continue to broadcast as long as possible. Do not try to come to the studio we WILL NOT, i repeat will not open the doors. I urge all of you who are still listening to stay in your shelter. If you have any useful information and can do so safely, call in. Our number here is 555-0213. We will stay on the air as long as we can." Tina turned off the radio and cried. "I wish you were here Nathan" she sobbed. She lay down on the bed and cried until she fell asleep.

Tyrone sat at the jail. It seemed safe enough. Nobody had tried to get in. He found a few sets of car keys. It was dark outside though so he would just stay here for the night. He walked down the hall to Ralph's cell. "Are you gonna eat that" he laughed pointing at the tray the jailer had put in there. Ralph snarled and growled. He stood there studying Ralph for a few minutes before walking around the jail checking things out. Finding the cafeteria he sat and ate before investigating further. In the back was the evidence room. "Now that's what I'm talkin' bout" he said rubbing his hands. In one of the boxes was a extra large knife. He found a pack of cigarettes in a drawer. Taking one out he lit it taking a deep breath. He took some paper and a straw then went back to Ralph's cell. For a while he was running from one side of the cell to another making Ralph chase him. Tyrone would reach his hand out and tell Ralph to get it then pull back before Ralph could grab him and say to slow. Ralph was growling loud, swinging his arms violently, and lunging into the bars. When Tyrone was out of breath he sat down on the floor laughing. "Why do you wanna eat people man that's not cool." Ralph was standing still now, staring at Tyrone. "See something you like" Tyrone asked. Tyrone took the straw and a piece of paper making a spitball shooting it through the straw at Ralph. By the time he got bored, Ralph's face was covered in spitballs. Tyrone took another cigarette out lighting it. Ralph stared at the flame. "You like fire?" Tyrone took some paper, rolled it up, lit it on fire and walked toward Ralph. Ralph put his arms up to his face and stepped back. "You know how hot the flames from hell is huh?" Tyrone tossed the burning paper through the bars. Ralph backed up to the other side of the cell. "Hmmm" Tyrone said, "your scared of fire." He thought about that as he went to try and find a way to the roof. He didn't want to get ambushed while he slept.

Travis ran through the house searching for his parents. Going around the corner he ran straight into the arms of the skeleton that was outside the car door. The sudden impact knocked them both to the ground. Travis jumped back as the zombies teeth grazed him. It had a death grip on his shoulders. Travis had his hands around its throat trying to hold it down. Moans were coming from the yard outside. He had to get away or he was going to die. Balling up one fist he unleashed a fury of bursts on the zombies head. The zombies were walking up the steps to his porch. Fear and panic settled in. He punched harder and harder until his fist broke through the zombies skull into its brain. It went limp releasing its hold. Pulling his hand out, bile rose up and he vomited. The zombies were on his porch and coming through his door. Travis jumped up running down the hall narrowly missing the zombie at the door as he dove up the steps. He raced into his bedroom slamming the door. Immediately he jerked his window up and climbed out. His foot slipped making his way to the roof. Sliding down he caught himself before falling to the zombies below. Trying again he made it up to the roof and laid down out of breath.
Digging in his pockets he realized he left his cellphone in the car. "Dammit" he mumbled.
Ricky was in the house. He nearly had fresh meat. Angry he growled and slapped out at the nearest minion.