Stage 6 (Book 1) Read online

  Lucy spoke up, “Well. We are going to have to leave sooner or later. We will run out of food eventually, and I for one would rather die with a full stomach than miserable and hungry.”

  I agreed, “Yes she’s right. I say that we ration the food for another week, so that we can all have double rations. During that time, we are going to have to figure out a way to get out of here and down to those forts. I would say we could use the truck that Ian drove over here, but the Infected are swarming our garage.”

  Even now, we could hear them shambling around and knocking things over in the garage.

  After several minutes of just sitting there, I got up and said, “Well I don’t know what to do but I’m sure we’ll think of something. In the mean time there is always something to do. I’ll go organize supply bags for us to carry our ammunition and food in assuming we leave here somehow.”

  Lucy got up as well, “I will get all the blankets and sheets and pillows we have and bring them into the family room. We might as well sleep comfortably.”

  My mom sat still. Lucy and I looked at each other, and then grimly walked off to do our jobs. By the time we had all finished doing our jobs, and everything else we could think of it was night and Ian and his family were still sleeping. I had managed to find the six most practical supply bags in the house, consisting of three camping back backs, two school bags, and a purse. I had already outfitted my camping backpack with a golf club in either side, a baseball bat sticking out the back, the shotgun ammunition box and the cleaning tools associated with the shotgun inside, and a first aid kit. I also had added a few thick jeans and jackets as protection against bites.

  Reasonably proud of myself, I volunteered to take first watch. The others fell asleep, and I patrolled the house with my Mossberg, often feeling reassured by its now-familiar weight. The next few hours passed uneventful, and I woke Lucy to take the next shift. She took her hunting rifle and propped herself up against a wall to survey the windows. I could only hope she wouldn’t fall asleep on us. As I began to fall asleep, I found myself wondering just what the rest of the world looked like right now.

  Day 3

  Crash! I was awoken by the sound of shattering glass, and leapt to my feet clutching my Mossberg tight. My mom was sitting in the corner on her guard duty, and looked at me bewildered. Ian and Lucy awoke too, but didn’t get up as fast. My mom explained what we had heard to them, while amazingly Ian’s sister and dad hadn’t even woken up yet. We silently spread out around the house, searching for where the breakage had occurred.

  It wasn’t long before Ian yelled, “Over here!”

  I rushed to him, in the master bed room where the biggest window was shattered and several Infected were pushing their hands through trying to grab on to something. They hadn’t gotten past the wood boards nailed into the wall yet, but it was only a matter of time before their combined weight and frenzied antics broke through. We all looked at each other, thinking about where else in the house this could happen, and next time would they go through the boards as well? We went into the family room, the situation under control for now. I explained how we have nothing more to barricade that window off with, as we’ve used all of our scrap wood and furniture.

  “What about that giant shelf you guys have in there? Isn’t that furniture or did you just skip that?” Ian asked me.

  “Well it was our dad’s personal shelf before he died, so we were hoping not to mess with it...” I looked at my mom as I said those words.

  Ian replied, “Well how much greater use could he get out of that shelf than saving your lives? We can drag it to just outside the bedroom and put it in front of the door. Like we did at my house, it takes them a while to figure out how to unlock or turn the knob, and then after that the door will still have a hundred pounds of shelf backing it up.”

  I couldn’t argue with the logic, and moved to help Ian prop it up against the door. When we were done Ian traded his shift with my mom, and we went back to sleep. I awoke peacefully in the morning to the smell of pancakes. Startled I went to the kitchen to find my mom attempting to prepare all our boxes of pancake mix.

  She looked at me and shrugged, “I figured since this takes a while to prepare, we might as well eat it now instead of on the road when we won’t have a chance too.”

  I smiled at her, glad that she was officially on board with the plan now. After a quick inspection of the house, I learned that we were now entirely surrounded by the Infected, but no other windows had been broken.

  Just then Lucy screamed, and it echoed through the house. I was already near the living room, so I simply turned around. I didn’t see anything. Lucy was standing up with a horrified looking expression on her face.

  I cautiously asked, “Uhh Lucy, what’s wrong?”

  She pointed at the chimney and now I could hear it too. Something was moving around in the chimney. I approached the bottom, which we had used the last of our supplies to board up pretty securely. There was a faint moan.

  I backed up, “There’s definitely an Infected in there, nothing else moans like that.”

  “Well what are we going to do about it?” asked Mark, who had apparently woken up to Lucy’s scream.

  After thinking it through, we all decided there was nothing to do about it. It was stuck in the chimney, and we had it blocked off. There was no threat. I filled Mark, Ian, and Karen in on our plans to escape within the next five-six days.

  “Alright, so the plan is that we eat more food than normal up to that date, to conserve our strength. I found bags for us all to carry our guns, ammunition, etc... All we have to do is survive here until we leave. The hard part is that somehow between now and then we’re going to have to get a car.”

  I was interrupted by Mark, exclaiming “And how the hell do you think you’re going to do that? Our truck’s in the garage, and its teeming with the Infected. Besides why would we eat all of our food before getting to the car? We’ll need food afterwards right?”

  I had an answer ready for that one, “I figure that if we fail to get a car, we all die anyways so we might as well die on a full stomach. If we get the car, than we could stop anywhere and get more food. The critical part of this plan is the car.”

  I stopped, to give Mark a chance to speak but he didn’t seem too interested in talking suddenly, no doubt thinking about the upcoming risk to him and his family.

  I continued, “My plan is definitely to get that car in the garage. The less we have to go out on foot the better, and the only other alternative is my car parked on the curb. The problem is there’s no way to secure the truck. We are only going to have that vehicle right when we are leaving. So I propose we try a few times leading up to the final day we run out of food. The first day we try should be tomorrow.”

  Everyone gasped, as if in a mystery thriller movie. “We don’t know how long it’s going to take to get this right, and there’s no point in waiting around here. If it’s possible that we can get to the car with a few days of food left, then we have to try.”

  Hearing no replies, I guessed they were just letting it sink in.

  “So I say after breakfast, while we still have the whole day ahead of us we get ready for tomorrow. Pack as if you aren’t coming back, because if it works then we are leaving today, at the very instant we successfully get into that car.”

  Somberly we all got up, and I handed them all their assorted bags. They went off to pack everything they wanted, while I sorted all the food into six equal size portions. Never put all your eggs in one basket was a rule I seldom followed but it seemed wise in life or death situation.

  We met at the table later, to have what could be one of our last breakfasts. Although we had a large breakfast, cooking and preparing everything we weren’t bringing with us, we ate in stony silence, preparing ourselves. The rest of the day passed by quite fast and I spent almost three hours sitting in a corner, thinking, before realizing how much time had gone by.

  When facing death right in the face, I couldn’t
help but think about what I’d done with my life. I had only done the normal stuff. I was only seventeen, and I wasn’t even out of high school yet. Is there anything really memorable that a seventeen year old can do? I hadn’t gotten a degree or anything, I wasn’t even qualified to do anything important, never mind do something that would last forever. Even with this outbreak, there had to be something worth doing with my life.

  I wasn’t going to let it all end tomorrow. I wasn’t going to die...

  Day 4

  As usual, after our rounds during the night of taking shifts guarding the house, nothing had happened that we could do anything about. Occasionally we would hear gunshots in the neighborhood, but knew there was nothing we could do. We couldn’t help wondering whether they would find us or not, and had fantasies of teaming up and escaping this hell together. We had breakfast, making casual conversation and trying to say jokes to lighten the mood. We had no idea what was in store for us, but we all got the gist of the idea. We were going to go risk our lives out in the world that has already claimed the lives of so many others like us.

  After riling ourselves up for an hour or two, preparing our weapons and our minds, we set off towards the garage. Even though we had gone over the plan a few times already, I felt I needed to make sure it was understood.

  “Alright,” I said quietly as we approached the garage, “I’ll open the door slowly to see what’s in there, while you guys aim your guns at the door. As soon as I unlock and open it I’ll step back and we’ll blast all the Infected. Then Ian will run towards the driver side door, while Lucy and I go out and hold off the Infected running in. While we’re firing at them, Mark, Karen, and my mother will run out and get into the car. Once everybody’s in, Lucy and I’ll jump in also and we make our escape. Got it?”

  Everybody nodded affirmatives. “Well alright then! Let’s go!”

  I unlocked the door and swung it open, to see the garage filled with ten or so Infected, all staring at the door. With a start, I recognized some from our neighborhood. No time to let emotions get in the way of survival though. We started letting loose our weapons, mainly from the hunting rifles carried by Lucy and my mom. The noise was extreme, and I thought my head would explode. Indoors in the hallway like that, the sound echoed all around us. And not only were they almost as devastating to us as the Infected, they were terrible shots, and in an entire clip only managed to bring down about four. I stepped in, and blew the head off of an Infected, reloaded and turned to do the same. Ian was right behind me, dashing past for the car. I moved around the passenger side to go cover the garage, when I saw a horrifying sight. The gunshots had echoed out all over the neighborhood, and I could see at the very least a hundred Infected rushing towards the garage from all different sides.

  I shouted, “Abort! Let’s get back in side! There’s too many coming!”

  As I turned around I saw Ian look up from his car keys, and meet my eyes. Then an Infected came from behind the garage door like lightning, and rushed towards Ian. Ian tried to bring up his gun, but I could tell it was going to be too late. I lifted my shotgun to my shoulder, and as I did I heard a bellowing roar that sounded like nothing I’ve heard before. Mark rushed out of the house, tackling the Infected to the ground. They struggled on the ground for a few seconds, Mark holding him off Ian. Ian backed up, aimed his pistol and tried to get a shot that wouldn’t harm his dad. I could hear the horde Infected almost to our driveway now though, running at full sprint. There wasn’t time. I pulled the trigger, blowing the Infected off of Mark. Ian helped his dad up, and we all bolted for the garage at the same second as the horde of Infected came crashing through our garage. I slammed the door behind us, locking the dead bolt hurriedly. We could hear them thud up against the door, shaking it, and I braced myself up against the door. This was not the time for some frenzied Infected to damage our strongest barricade. I turned away from the door, back to it. Then I noticed Mark was on the ground, bleeding from all over. Ian ran to the kitchen, got a warm washcloth and cleaned away his father’s arms. I was just about to turn away when Hunter let up a vicious snarl, and bared his teeth, and I noticed Mark’s now clean arms. There were bites on them.

  “Crap!” I yelled, “Ian, Mark’s been bitten.”

  I aimed my gun at Mark as he looked at me in confusion and terror.

  Ian yelled, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? This is my dad!”

  “Look at his arms,” I replied, noting to myself how eerily calm I sounded. “There are at least two bites I can see, and probably more. You heard what the T.V. said just like we did; bites are the way it’s transmitted. We don’t know how long we have, but sometime soon probably within the next few hours he’s going to turn.”

  Ian shouted, “You don’t know that!”

  Mark slowly said, “No son. He’s right. I don’t want to be a risk to you and your sister...”

  I looked at Ian as if to say, well that settles it huh?

  He angrily looked back at his father, still taking in what had just happened. He said, “Let me and Karen talk with Mark. He’s our Dad and I’m not doing anything until we think things through.”

  I slowly lifted my gun, “Alright Ian.”

  Karen ran into Mark’s arms and sobbed, as the terrified family crossed our living room and went into the Kitchen to be alone. I don’t know what was said between them, but I stayed with my Mom for the next three hours. We stood, silent. We both understood the gravity of the situation. Not trusting the TV, I wasn’t entirely convinced we had as long as they said we did. In my mind, Mark could turn violent any second. Visions of Devin were fresh in my mind. Ian walked up to me slowly, and looked me in the eye. He face was steeled, and he said determinedly, “Jack, we want to wait until we’re sure bites transmit the virus.”

  I was about to object when he raised his hand and continued, “I’m not done yet. He’s in the bathroom right now, both hands tied to the tub faucet. We figured that if he turned, it would be the best place to... you know.”

  I could see Ian needed this. I looked at my Mom, and I knew I would want the same if she was the one who had been bitten. I nodded, and said, “Alright Ian. That sounds like a good plan.”

  Ian and I went to the bathroom, while my Mom took Karen and held her. We could hear sounds outside of Infected searching for an entrance, but none were any closer to getting inside. I tried to talk calmly with Mark, but what do you say to a man tied up in your bath tub, who you know you may have to shoot any minute? How do you look him in the eyes, knowing in your heart you’re going to shoot him? Time passed silently. Then suddenly Mark coughed, startling me. I felt the reassurance of my shotgun in my hand, resting against the wall. He turned and looked at me, and hoarsely said, “I think I’m becoming one of them.” I was scared, sad, and ashamed to admit I was curious as well. I asked, “what do you see? How do you feel?” Mark rasped, “I feel powerful... I feel anger welling up inside of me, although I don’t know what I’m mad at. I feel stronger, like I can rip these bonds right off.” He stopped and a fit of spasms struck him. He looked up, and shocked me as I could have sworn his eyes changed to a striking blue for a second. He struggled with the knot tying him to the tub, and then stopped. Tears were running down Ian’s face, and Mark looked at the floor, obviously straining to keep control. He forced out, “Get ready. I love you Ian. If you find your Mother...” Mark cut himself off with a growl, and suddenly ripped the entire faucet off the wall. Ian shouted and scrambled to get out of the bathroom, while I hit the floor trying to pick up my shotgun which had been kicked over. I narrowly raised it in time, to meet Mark’s chest as he dove towards me. He stopped, and raised his eyes one last time to see Ian behind the door, holding Karen back. His eyes met Karen’s, and his expression softened for a second. Then he looked at me, and his face slid into a snarl. I pulled the trigger.

  Day 5

  I woke up, tired still. I’d had only a few hours sleep the night before, although I did sleep soundly. I was afraid of what my dreams
might bring; I was afraid of the guilt I might feel from killing Mark. But Ian had come to me last night, before we settled down for sleep. He had offered his hand, and then when I had grasped it he just looked at me. Our eyes met, and I understood. He was telling me that he didn’t blame me for what had happened. And at that moment I felt as if a whole weight had been lifted off of me, and I smiled. I nodded at him, clasped his hand again, and let it go.

  The night passed uneventfully, although I did wake once to hear gunshots off in the neighborhood somewhere else. I could not think of a rescue mission now, though I desperately wanted to. The only significance those other survivors have to me now, I thought, is distracting the Infected from us.

  In the morning, we were all still silent. Having nowhere else to put it, we had washed and then dragged Mark’s body into one of our back rooms, and then closed off the area. Breakfast was silent. We knew we had to try again, but at what cost? Who among us would die in the attempt this time?

  I knew something had to be said. “Yeah, so our plan didn’t work. It failed. Maybe some of us aren’t looking forward to trying again, and think that in this new bleak world there’s nothing to look forward to. Well maybe your right.”

  They looked at me in surprise at that one, probably expecting me to try and encourage them not sadden them further.

  I continued, “Then choose the lesser of the two evils. Are we going to sit here until our food runs out, and die of starvation? Or are we going to go out there and fight for the freedom to choose how and when we die? It’s up to each of you personally, but I for one am going to try again today, and the day after that, and the day after that. As long as it takes, I WILL get out of here.”

  If I had expected a round of applause, I would have been sorely disappointed. My speech was greeted with impassionate faces and silence. Disgusted, I moved off to the living room. I cleaned my gun, reloaded it, and shouldered my pack.