There are no words to fully describe the horror which was pulsing through my mind and charging through my body as the thing in front of me stopped it's grotesque motions almost at the same time as the resounding boom of the shotgun shell echoed off the wall of the building beside us.
I watched as, in slow motion, its skull disintegrated, blood and ichor spraying across the pavement and painting a macabre moire of pinkish death where a man's head once lay.
I wanted to vomit.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to run, the raving voice in my head screeching that this wasn't possible, this wasn't real, I couldn't have just killed two people, there are more there are more there are more there are ...
"Dad," Bill whispered, the dogs looking calmly at me as though they knew that the immediate danger was over. "Dad, are you OK?"
I turned to look at him. He was calm. His young mind wasn't raving like a lunatic, screaming to get out of here, to run, to hide, to pretend it had never happened. His young mind, I realized, was flexible enough to acknowledge and understand the shift in reality the world around us had taken, and to take it in stride. His young mind saw that I had a good plan and that it was up to us to make sure the rest of our family survived the zombie pandemic. His young mind, and his clear, calming eyes brought me back, and I firmly shoved the madman in my head, kicking and screaming all the way, to the back of my consciousness.
"Son, you handled that well. I am very proud of you. Way to keep the dogs safe, too - good job, Son."
"Thanks, Dad. But, I ..."
I looked him over, searching his small frame. "What is it, Son?"
"I was scared, Dad."
"Well, so was I. There's nothing wrong with being afraid. It's what you do with that fear that makes a statement, Son. You did good."
"Thanks, Dad," he managed, still looking at the ground. "But can we grab some clean underwear and a clean pair of pants while we're in there? Please?"
It was then that I saw what was bothering him. In the terror of the moment, he'd wet himself. Yet he'd stood strong, even as his little body was betraying him. All thoughts of my own fear were gone and I smiled with both pride and compassion. "Of course we can, Son. I may need a new pair my own self."
He didn't believe me, but he met my eyes and slowly, my smile.
"I guess we'd better get to work, huh?" I asked, tousling his hair and reaching down to pat the dogs each on the head.
"Well, it's now or never, Dad."
I turned to the door, swallowing, as the fear tried to return to the forefront of my mind.
Not this time. It's time to just head in and kick some zombie ass, I thought, stepping over Marie's corpse.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Thursday, June 04, 2009
#H1Z1 - Chapter 9
Automatic doors. All this time I'd been outside of the store, talking with my Son, getting the dogs out of the truck, loading my shotgun, calling 911 - all this time, and it just now hit me that they were automatic doors. All the front entrance doors - four sets - to the Wad-Mart were automatic. A motion sensor at the top triggered them. You simply needed to move in front of it.
Or stagger.
"Dad! Behind you!" Bill shouted as the dogs surged forward, hackles bristling and showing fierce snarls I never imagined my two goofy mutts were even capable of.
I whipped around, raising the shotgun to my shoulder just in time to see the remains of Marie lurch through the automatic door and stumble toward me.
"Don't come any closer, lady!" I shouted. My hackles, if I had any, were raised as well, and my flesh seemed to want to be somewhere else, goose-bumps instantly covering every inch of me. The voice in the back of my head was screeching now, tearing through my resolve to the forefront of my mind and refusing to be controlled. "Get back lady! Get away from us!"
Her eyes were so bloodshot they almost appeared red. A long string of saliva hung from one corner of her twisted mouth and she was actually gnashing her teeth - making chewing motions as she reached toward me. Her skin was white. I could see the branch-like tracery of veins through her eerily translucent skin. She was obviously dead, yet somehow walking. My brain raged at that, terror ripping the silence, or so I thought, with gut-wrenching screams.
Somehow, she managed a kind of half-hiss, half-moan and took another shuttering step.
I pulled the trigger of my gun.
Nothing happened.
Standing there, aghast, shocked, terrified, my mind quickly racing toward the precipice of abject terror, I almost didn't hear Bill's admonishment. "Safety, Dad! Take off the safety!"
It was too late. Marie was right in front of me, inside the 30-inch reach of the barrel of my skeet gun. She reached out, hands like claws hungrily trying to catch my shooting vest.
Call it reflexes. Call is survival instinct. Call it dumb, blind luck, but I managed to stave off the terror trying to peel itself out of my brain and run gibbering down the street for home and react.
I did the only thing I could. I swung the stock of the gun down from my shoulder and whipped it up in a sharp blow to her chin, knocking her head back with every ounce of force I could muster in so short an amount of time.
Her head shot back - too far back - and the momentum of my blow sent her sprawling backwards through the still open door, landing hard on the concrete pad beyond with a sickening crunch. I saw a pool of blood forming under her skull as her body writhed slowly through a sickening kind of death throe.
Then, her remains, her re-animated remains, seemed to collapse. She, no, it (I had to start thinking of them as 'it') cease to move altogether.
I had done it. I had killed my first zombie. How in the HELL was I going to deal with that when this was all over?
Bill's shout brought me back from this brief reverie. Why was he shouting, anyway? And why was I so detached all of a sudden?
It felt as though the air were made of gelatin rather than gasses as I turned toward my son and the dogs he was barely restraining.
Standing in front of the dogs, inches from their snarling, snapping jaws, was the second one. The second zombie from inside of the store. The man. Reaching - clawing for my son.
I didn't have to think this time. My finger snapped the safety off. I raised the shotgun and shot from the hip, aiming for center mass. I was to the right side of this second catastrophe, and was standing fairly even with the creature that threatened my son. Bill was clear of any shot, but the dogs weren't. No matter. This thing was not going to get my Son, I thought as I pulled the trigger.
At such short range, the tightly choked gun punched a hole deep into the side of the man - of what was left of the man. The force of the blow knocked it sideways onto the ground and it was close enough to the muzzle of the shotgun that it's shirt caught fire.
It writhed for a moment there on the ground before, astonishingly, beginning to lever its self up onto its knees, never losing sight of its target, my Son and our two dogs. But I had bought Bill the time he needed and somehow, I felt a flush of pride through the still gibbering terror which ran rampant through my mind as he dug his heels into the pavement and yanked the pair of savagely snarling animals back from the creature before them.
My shotgun was a semi-automatic, so I didn't have to pump it to chamber another round - it was already cocked and loaded. I raised it to my shoulder this time, taking aim for the center of the creature's chest and pulling the trigger again. It was sickening to watch as the shot ripped through its chest. It was blown back onto the ground again, but still, it writhed. Again, I shot it. Still it moved, clawing at the ground and trying to right its self so that it could pursue the child. Finally, I aimed for its head, something telling me that that would stop the creature. I pulled the trigger.
Or stagger.
"Dad! Behind you!" Bill shouted as the dogs surged forward, hackles bristling and showing fierce snarls I never imagined my two goofy mutts were even capable of.
I whipped around, raising the shotgun to my shoulder just in time to see the remains of Marie lurch through the automatic door and stumble toward me.
"Don't come any closer, lady!" I shouted. My hackles, if I had any, were raised as well, and my flesh seemed to want to be somewhere else, goose-bumps instantly covering every inch of me. The voice in the back of my head was screeching now, tearing through my resolve to the forefront of my mind and refusing to be controlled. "Get back lady! Get away from us!"
Her eyes were so bloodshot they almost appeared red. A long string of saliva hung from one corner of her twisted mouth and she was actually gnashing her teeth - making chewing motions as she reached toward me. Her skin was white. I could see the branch-like tracery of veins through her eerily translucent skin. She was obviously dead, yet somehow walking. My brain raged at that, terror ripping the silence, or so I thought, with gut-wrenching screams.
Somehow, she managed a kind of half-hiss, half-moan and took another shuttering step.
I pulled the trigger of my gun.
Nothing happened.
Standing there, aghast, shocked, terrified, my mind quickly racing toward the precipice of abject terror, I almost didn't hear Bill's admonishment. "Safety, Dad! Take off the safety!"
It was too late. Marie was right in front of me, inside the 30-inch reach of the barrel of my skeet gun. She reached out, hands like claws hungrily trying to catch my shooting vest.
Call it reflexes. Call is survival instinct. Call it dumb, blind luck, but I managed to stave off the terror trying to peel itself out of my brain and run gibbering down the street for home and react.
I did the only thing I could. I swung the stock of the gun down from my shoulder and whipped it up in a sharp blow to her chin, knocking her head back with every ounce of force I could muster in so short an amount of time.
Her head shot back - too far back - and the momentum of my blow sent her sprawling backwards through the still open door, landing hard on the concrete pad beyond with a sickening crunch. I saw a pool of blood forming under her skull as her body writhed slowly through a sickening kind of death throe.
Then, her remains, her re-animated remains, seemed to collapse. She, no, it (I had to start thinking of them as 'it') cease to move altogether.
I had done it. I had killed my first zombie. How in the HELL was I going to deal with that when this was all over?
Bill's shout brought me back from this brief reverie. Why was he shouting, anyway? And why was I so detached all of a sudden?
It felt as though the air were made of gelatin rather than gasses as I turned toward my son and the dogs he was barely restraining.
Standing in front of the dogs, inches from their snarling, snapping jaws, was the second one. The second zombie from inside of the store. The man. Reaching - clawing for my son.
I didn't have to think this time. My finger snapped the safety off. I raised the shotgun and shot from the hip, aiming for center mass. I was to the right side of this second catastrophe, and was standing fairly even with the creature that threatened my son. Bill was clear of any shot, but the dogs weren't. No matter. This thing was not going to get my Son, I thought as I pulled the trigger.
At such short range, the tightly choked gun punched a hole deep into the side of the man - of what was left of the man. The force of the blow knocked it sideways onto the ground and it was close enough to the muzzle of the shotgun that it's shirt caught fire.
It writhed for a moment there on the ground before, astonishingly, beginning to lever its self up onto its knees, never losing sight of its target, my Son and our two dogs. But I had bought Bill the time he needed and somehow, I felt a flush of pride through the still gibbering terror which ran rampant through my mind as he dug his heels into the pavement and yanked the pair of savagely snarling animals back from the creature before them.
My shotgun was a semi-automatic, so I didn't have to pump it to chamber another round - it was already cocked and loaded. I raised it to my shoulder this time, taking aim for the center of the creature's chest and pulling the trigger again. It was sickening to watch as the shot ripped through its chest. It was blown back onto the ground again, but still, it writhed. Again, I shot it. Still it moved, clawing at the ground and trying to right its self so that it could pursue the child. Finally, I aimed for its head, something telling me that that would stop the creature. I pulled the trigger.
H1Z1 - Interlude 2
Current WHO phase of pandemic alert
Current phase of alert in the WHO global influenza preparedness plan
Pandemic preparedness
In the 2009 revision of the phase descriptions, WHO has retained the use of a six-phased approach for easy incorporation of new recommendations and approaches into existing national preparedness and response plans. The grouping and description of pandemic phases have been revised to make them easier to understand, more precise, and based upon observable phenomena. Phases 1–3 correlate with preparedness, including capacity development and response planning activities, while Phases 4–6 clearly signal the need for response and mitigation efforts. Furthermore, periods after the first pandemic wave are elaborated to facilitate post pandemic recovery activities.
The current WHO phase of pandemic alert is 5.
In nature, influenza viruses circulate continuously among animals, especially birds. Even though such viruses might theoretically develop into pandemic viruses, in Phase 1 no viruses circulating among animals have been reported to cause infections in humans.
In Phase 2 an animal influenza virus circulating among domesticated or wild animals is known to have caused infection in humans, and is therefore considered a potential pandemic threat.
In Phase 3, an animal or human-animal influenza reassortant virus has caused sporadic cases or small clusters of disease in people, but has not resulted in human-to-human transmission sufficient to sustain community-level outbreaks. Limited human-to-human transmission may occur under some circumstances, for example, when there is close contact between an infected person and an unprotected caregiver. However, limited transmission under such restricted circumstances does not indicate that the virus has gained the level of transmissibility among humans necessary to cause a pandemic.
Phase 4 is characterized by verified human-to-human transmission of an animal or human-animal influenza reassortant virus able to cause “community-level outbreaks.” The ability to cause sustained disease outbreaks in a community marks a significant upwards shift in the risk for a pandemic. Any country that suspects or has verified such an event should urgently consult with WHO so that the situation can be jointly assessed and a decision made by the affected country if implementation of a rapid pandemic containment operation is warranted. Phase 4 indicates a significant increase in risk of a pandemic but does not necessarily mean that a pandemic is a forgone conclusion.
Phase 5 is characterized by human-to-human spread of the virus into at least two countries in one WHO region. While most countries will not be affected at this stage, the declaration of Phase 5 is a strong signal that a pandemic is imminent and that the time to finalize the organization, communication, and implementation of the planned mitigation measures is short.
Phase 6, the pandemic phase, is characterized by community level outbreaks in at least one other country in a different WHO region in addition to the criteria defined in Phase 5. Designation of this phase will indicate that a global pandemic is under way.
During the post-peak period, pandemic disease levels in most countries with adequate surveillance will have dropped below peak observed levels. The post-peak period signifies that pandemic activity appears to be decreasing; however, it is uncertain if additional waves will occur and countries will need to be prepared for a second wave.
Previous pandemics have been characterized by waves of activity spread over months. Once the level of disease activity drops, a critical communications task will be to balance this information with the possibility of another wave. Pandemic waves can be separated by months and an immediate “at-ease” signal may be premature.
In the post-pandemic period, influenza disease activity will have returned to levels normally seen for seasonal influenza. It is expected that the pandemic virus will behave as a seasonal influenza A virus. At this stage, it is important to maintain surveillance and update pandemic preparedness and response plans accordingly. An intensive phase of recovery and evaluation may be required.
**Actual World Health Organization document found here.
Current phase of alert in the WHO global influenza preparedness plan
Pandemic preparedness
In the 2009 revision of the phase descriptions, WHO has retained the use of a six-phased approach for easy incorporation of new recommendations and approaches into existing national preparedness and response plans. The grouping and description of pandemic phases have been revised to make them easier to understand, more precise, and based upon observable phenomena. Phases 1–3 correlate with preparedness, including capacity development and response planning activities, while Phases 4–6 clearly signal the need for response and mitigation efforts. Furthermore, periods after the first pandemic wave are elaborated to facilitate post pandemic recovery activities.
The current WHO phase of pandemic alert is 5.
In nature, influenza viruses circulate continuously among animals, especially birds. Even though such viruses might theoretically develop into pandemic viruses, in Phase 1 no viruses circulating among animals have been reported to cause infections in humans.
In Phase 2 an animal influenza virus circulating among domesticated or wild animals is known to have caused infection in humans, and is therefore considered a potential pandemic threat.
In Phase 3, an animal or human-animal influenza reassortant virus has caused sporadic cases or small clusters of disease in people, but has not resulted in human-to-human transmission sufficient to sustain community-level outbreaks. Limited human-to-human transmission may occur under some circumstances, for example, when there is close contact between an infected person and an unprotected caregiver. However, limited transmission under such restricted circumstances does not indicate that the virus has gained the level of transmissibility among humans necessary to cause a pandemic.
Phase 4 is characterized by verified human-to-human transmission of an animal or human-animal influenza reassortant virus able to cause “community-level outbreaks.” The ability to cause sustained disease outbreaks in a community marks a significant upwards shift in the risk for a pandemic. Any country that suspects or has verified such an event should urgently consult with WHO so that the situation can be jointly assessed and a decision made by the affected country if implementation of a rapid pandemic containment operation is warranted. Phase 4 indicates a significant increase in risk of a pandemic but does not necessarily mean that a pandemic is a forgone conclusion.
Phase 5 is characterized by human-to-human spread of the virus into at least two countries in one WHO region. While most countries will not be affected at this stage, the declaration of Phase 5 is a strong signal that a pandemic is imminent and that the time to finalize the organization, communication, and implementation of the planned mitigation measures is short.
Phase 6, the pandemic phase, is characterized by community level outbreaks in at least one other country in a different WHO region in addition to the criteria defined in Phase 5. Designation of this phase will indicate that a global pandemic is under way.
During the post-peak period, pandemic disease levels in most countries with adequate surveillance will have dropped below peak observed levels. The post-peak period signifies that pandemic activity appears to be decreasing; however, it is uncertain if additional waves will occur and countries will need to be prepared for a second wave.
Previous pandemics have been characterized by waves of activity spread over months. Once the level of disease activity drops, a critical communications task will be to balance this information with the possibility of another wave. Pandemic waves can be separated by months and an immediate “at-ease” signal may be premature.
In the post-pandemic period, influenza disease activity will have returned to levels normally seen for seasonal influenza. It is expected that the pandemic virus will behave as a seasonal influenza A virus. At this stage, it is important to maintain surveillance and update pandemic preparedness and response plans accordingly. An intensive phase of recovery and evaluation may be required.
**Actual World Health Organization document found here.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
H1Z1- Chapter 8
I reached in to the pocket of my shooting vest and began shoving shells into my twelve gauge. Bill watched intently and nodded his approval when I chambered a round and replaced it with an extra shot in the tube.
"Should we wear earplugs, Dad?" he asked, ever mindful of the safety training we had taken together and which I reenforced with him regularly.
"I am not sure. I know we need to take care of our ears, but I think we also need to be able to hear if one of those people try to come toward us."
"That's true," was his reply. His young mind grasped the logic immediately.
"Now, here's what we need to remember - these people were infected with the flu. We don't want to breathe the same air they exhale and we don't want any contact with their bodily fluid."
"I understand, Dad, but what do I do if one of them gets too close to me?"
"Do your best to keep that from hapenning, Son. The dogs will help. But try to keep them from getting too close, too."
This was almost an impossible task - the two mutts together weighed more than 120 lbs, and they could each pull at least that individually. But they were obedient, to a degree, and they were definitely fiercely protective of their boy. I knew they would do their best to keep one of the ... creatures from touching their charge.
"Ok, lets go Son. We'll go in the doors, then you grab a cart and I'll grab a cart. We go straight to outdoors first, get the keys to the gun cabinet and get you a shotgun." Bills eyes got rounder and rounder as I spelled out my plan, but I could tell he was tracking. "Then we get shells. As many as are on the shelf. Twelve and twenty gauge only, got it?"
"Yes. Do you think maybe we should get more than one gun, Dad?"
"I like the way you think, Son. Once we're in there, I'll decide, but I think a pistol or two, and maybe a .300 Winchester Magnum would be a good idea. We're not going to have a lot of time, but we should probably arm ourselves for bear, huh?"
Bill solemnely nodded his agreement, eyes never leaving mine.
"Son, this is not going to be fun. Or easy. Just think about getting home to our family and getting them all to the cabin safely."
"I know, Dad, but its still scary."
My heart felt like it was coated in lead. A voice in the back of my head kept up a steady stream of niggling doubt. How could I lead my son back into a building which had to be completely infested with undead people? How could I risk exposing him and myself to something so horrible? How could I go back in there? Especially after I'd seen a woman die, then get back up and try to chase me? Was I insane? Was I stupid?
I mustered enough courage to shove the voice deeper into the back of my mind before it could wedge its constant doubt and fear into the depths of my heart where what courage I had was bound. I had to think beyond the terror which waited for me on the other side of the automatic door. I had to think of my wife, of Bill, of the other four children back at home, hell, even of our two cats. We had to survive this, and we had to get ourselves to the safety of the mountain. That was my goal. That was my only goal. In. Out. Home. Mountain.
"Ok, Son, we have to do this, so let's do this."
Bill only nodded and wrapped the dogs' leashes around his gloved hand once more.
"Should we wear earplugs, Dad?" he asked, ever mindful of the safety training we had taken together and which I reenforced with him regularly.
"I am not sure. I know we need to take care of our ears, but I think we also need to be able to hear if one of those people try to come toward us."
"That's true," was his reply. His young mind grasped the logic immediately.
"Now, here's what we need to remember - these people were infected with the flu. We don't want to breathe the same air they exhale and we don't want any contact with their bodily fluid."
"I understand, Dad, but what do I do if one of them gets too close to me?"
"Do your best to keep that from hapenning, Son. The dogs will help. But try to keep them from getting too close, too."
This was almost an impossible task - the two mutts together weighed more than 120 lbs, and they could each pull at least that individually. But they were obedient, to a degree, and they were definitely fiercely protective of their boy. I knew they would do their best to keep one of the ... creatures from touching their charge.
"Ok, lets go Son. We'll go in the doors, then you grab a cart and I'll grab a cart. We go straight to outdoors first, get the keys to the gun cabinet and get you a shotgun." Bills eyes got rounder and rounder as I spelled out my plan, but I could tell he was tracking. "Then we get shells. As many as are on the shelf. Twelve and twenty gauge only, got it?"
"Yes. Do you think maybe we should get more than one gun, Dad?"
"I like the way you think, Son. Once we're in there, I'll decide, but I think a pistol or two, and maybe a .300 Winchester Magnum would be a good idea. We're not going to have a lot of time, but we should probably arm ourselves for bear, huh?"
Bill solemnely nodded his agreement, eyes never leaving mine.
"Son, this is not going to be fun. Or easy. Just think about getting home to our family and getting them all to the cabin safely."
"I know, Dad, but its still scary."
My heart felt like it was coated in lead. A voice in the back of my head kept up a steady stream of niggling doubt. How could I lead my son back into a building which had to be completely infested with undead people? How could I risk exposing him and myself to something so horrible? How could I go back in there? Especially after I'd seen a woman die, then get back up and try to chase me? Was I insane? Was I stupid?
I mustered enough courage to shove the voice deeper into the back of my mind before it could wedge its constant doubt and fear into the depths of my heart where what courage I had was bound. I had to think beyond the terror which waited for me on the other side of the automatic door. I had to think of my wife, of Bill, of the other four children back at home, hell, even of our two cats. We had to survive this, and we had to get ourselves to the safety of the mountain. That was my goal. That was my only goal. In. Out. Home. Mountain.
"Ok, Son, we have to do this, so let's do this."
Bill only nodded and wrapped the dogs' leashes around his gloved hand once more.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
H1Z1 - Chapter 7
It felt as though a huge black cloud was drifting over me as I pulled my cell phone back out of my pocket and dialled 9-1-1. We had seen the fire truck earlier, lights but no sirens, but we hadn't seen anything else - no sign of the police, no helicopters, nothing. I wasn't sure what, if anything, the police could do for me, but I had to make the call - not just to reassure Bill, but to reassure myself, too.
"9-1-1 operator, please state your emergency."
"I'm at the Wad-Mart and there seems to be ... All the people are either dead or they're sort of not dead."
"What is your emergency, sir?" Great. This bodiless voice wasn't going to make things easy.
"They're dying here! They have the flu, and then they ..." I couldn't help but hesitate, even though I'd seen it, even though it had happened before my eyes, I struggled to say the words aloud because they were simply too terrible. "They die, then they come back to life and the lady tried to attack us."
There. Confused, jumbled, scared and scary, but I was able to spit it out.
"You were attacked at the Wad-Mart?"
"Yes."
"By a dead woman?"
"Yes. A zombie, I guess. H1Z1 - the flu - everyone in the store seems to have it."
"Sir, we're getting similar reports all over town. I have no police officers to dispatch. Please stay calm and remain indoors. There's nothing further I can do to help you," said the bodiless voice.
"Stay indoors? No police? Lady, there's something terrible going on here! What are the police doing about it?"
"Sir, we're doing everything we can, but I don't have a car to dispatch to your location. I can't send you any help."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" I was becoming more and more frustrated by this disembodied voice. How could she be so calm when it was obvious that the whole city seemed to be going to hell?
"According to the latest instruction from the mayor's office and the governor, the National Guard has been called in and all uninfected citizens are to remain in their homes until help arrives. That's all I can tell you, Sir."
Well, there it was. Sit and wait and pray you're not infected. Lot of help the National Guard was going to be if the whole town was suffering from this. I hung up the call and put my phone back in my pocket.
"I guess we're going to have to do this on our own, Son," I said to Bill as I turned back the tailgate and began loading the pocket of my shooting vest with shells.
"Dad, I'm scared." He looked at me intently, young eyes seeing through any bravado I may have tried to muster. I could do nothing but be honest with him, especially since I was taking him back in to the hellish experience we had just escaped inside the store behind us.
"Me, too, Son. Me too."
"9-1-1 operator, please state your emergency."
"I'm at the Wad-Mart and there seems to be ... All the people are either dead or they're sort of not dead."
"What is your emergency, sir?" Great. This bodiless voice wasn't going to make things easy.
"They're dying here! They have the flu, and then they ..." I couldn't help but hesitate, even though I'd seen it, even though it had happened before my eyes, I struggled to say the words aloud because they were simply too terrible. "They die, then they come back to life and the lady tried to attack us."
There. Confused, jumbled, scared and scary, but I was able to spit it out.
"You were attacked at the Wad-Mart?"
"Yes."
"By a dead woman?"
"Yes. A zombie, I guess. H1Z1 - the flu - everyone in the store seems to have it."
"Sir, we're getting similar reports all over town. I have no police officers to dispatch. Please stay calm and remain indoors. There's nothing further I can do to help you," said the bodiless voice.
"Stay indoors? No police? Lady, there's something terrible going on here! What are the police doing about it?"
"Sir, we're doing everything we can, but I don't have a car to dispatch to your location. I can't send you any help."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" I was becoming more and more frustrated by this disembodied voice. How could she be so calm when it was obvious that the whole city seemed to be going to hell?
"According to the latest instruction from the mayor's office and the governor, the National Guard has been called in and all uninfected citizens are to remain in their homes until help arrives. That's all I can tell you, Sir."
Well, there it was. Sit and wait and pray you're not infected. Lot of help the National Guard was going to be if the whole town was suffering from this. I hung up the call and put my phone back in my pocket.
"I guess we're going to have to do this on our own, Son," I said to Bill as I turned back the tailgate and began loading the pocket of my shooting vest with shells.
"Dad, I'm scared." He looked at me intently, young eyes seeing through any bravado I may have tried to muster. I could do nothing but be honest with him, especially since I was taking him back in to the hellish experience we had just escaped inside the store behind us.
"Me, too, Son. Me too."
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
H1Z1 - Chapter 6
As I headed for the truck, I called the boy over, watching the dogs carefully as they turned toward me and we all met.
"How long has Mom known I'm teaching you to shoot, Son?" I asked, pulling the drop down tailgate of the SUV open.
"It's no big deal Dad, I promise!"
"No, no. You're not in trouble. I was just wondering." As I talked with him, I was methodically pulling out the objects I felt I would need to use on the trip back in to the store. My shooting vest, which had a pocket that held more than 30 shells. A pair of leather gloves, I didn't want to touch someone affected and catch the virus that way. The box of 12 gauge shells we had just left the store with.
"Take these," I handed Bill a pair of gloves, too. "We have to go back in. You keep the dogs with you because they'll protect you."
"Why are we going in again, Dad?"
"Mom wants me to get you a gun. I think we may need some other things, too."
"Mom said that? Really?"
"Yes. And I think we need to pack for the cabin."
I was forming a plan in the back of my mind. We had a cabin up in a pass in the mountains. We had canned food and supplies there all the time, so that all we'd need for a quick weekend away was a few fresh supplies and to load all the kids into our two cars. It was almost a hundren miles from any large concentration of people, so there would be much less possibility of infection. There was wood nearby for fires and there was wildlife should we have to stay so long that hunting became necessary. Yes, I thought, this would work.
But it meant that we needed to bring about two cart-loads of supplies out of the store with us, not just a second shotgun.
I began explaining my plan to my son.
"OK, Dad, but what do we do for the dogs?" Another large, bulky object. Dog food. We'd have to grab some.
"What about paying?" I had worked hard to ingrain a sense of responsibility to all the children, and he knew I was talking about a high-speed raid through the store, filling the cart with what we thought we needed as quickly as possibly, then simply taking it, not trying to stop and pay a clerk who would most likely be trying to attack us, not assist us.
"I don't think we need to worry about paying, Bill. I don't think anyone in there really cares."
"That still doesn't make it right, Dad."
"No, Son, it doesn't."
Finally, I realized I had forgotten something.
"Bill, have you heard any sirens? Have you heard any police?"
"No, Dad. We should call."
"Yes, we should."
I could see our escape to the mountains becoming more complex, but I could also see that, if we were to do things right, we had to try to make sure we followed through with every option, and the next civilized option we had was to call the police and see if there was any hope of not only some help, but some kind of official word on what was really going on.
"How long has Mom known I'm teaching you to shoot, Son?" I asked, pulling the drop down tailgate of the SUV open.
"It's no big deal Dad, I promise!"
"No, no. You're not in trouble. I was just wondering." As I talked with him, I was methodically pulling out the objects I felt I would need to use on the trip back in to the store. My shooting vest, which had a pocket that held more than 30 shells. A pair of leather gloves, I didn't want to touch someone affected and catch the virus that way. The box of 12 gauge shells we had just left the store with.
"Take these," I handed Bill a pair of gloves, too. "We have to go back in. You keep the dogs with you because they'll protect you."
"Why are we going in again, Dad?"
"Mom wants me to get you a gun. I think we may need some other things, too."
"Mom said that? Really?"
"Yes. And I think we need to pack for the cabin."
I was forming a plan in the back of my mind. We had a cabin up in a pass in the mountains. We had canned food and supplies there all the time, so that all we'd need for a quick weekend away was a few fresh supplies and to load all the kids into our two cars. It was almost a hundren miles from any large concentration of people, so there would be much less possibility of infection. There was wood nearby for fires and there was wildlife should we have to stay so long that hunting became necessary. Yes, I thought, this would work.
But it meant that we needed to bring about two cart-loads of supplies out of the store with us, not just a second shotgun.
I began explaining my plan to my son.
"OK, Dad, but what do we do for the dogs?" Another large, bulky object. Dog food. We'd have to grab some.
"What about paying?" I had worked hard to ingrain a sense of responsibility to all the children, and he knew I was talking about a high-speed raid through the store, filling the cart with what we thought we needed as quickly as possibly, then simply taking it, not trying to stop and pay a clerk who would most likely be trying to attack us, not assist us.
"I don't think we need to worry about paying, Bill. I don't think anyone in there really cares."
"That still doesn't make it right, Dad."
"No, Son, it doesn't."
Finally, I realized I had forgotten something.
"Bill, have you heard any sirens? Have you heard any police?"
"No, Dad. We should call."
"Yes, we should."
I could see our escape to the mountains becoming more complex, but I could also see that, if we were to do things right, we had to try to make sure we followed through with every option, and the next civilized option we had was to call the police and see if there was any hope of not only some help, but some kind of official word on what was really going on.
Friday, May 15, 2009
H1Z1 - Chapter 5
Although he didn't want to, I pulled Bill to a stop just outside the automatic doors to the store. For a moment, the two of us just stood there, nothing but the sound of our own gasps for air and the thundering of our hearts in our ears.
"Dad," Bill managed between gulps of air, "She was, sh-she was ..."
"Yes, Son," I replied, myself struggling to fill my lungs with clean, cool early-morning air. "She was dead. And then she was standing up again."
Bill just stared at me. I could only respond by staring at him. I think we each could see the gears in each others' minds turning and turning, trying to fit the sentence I had just managed to spit out into our conception of How the World Works.
Bill, being ten, and therefore much more resilient than I was at my almost-mid-life age, straightened up and with a deep breath asked, "Well, what do we do about that?"
It's amazing how quickly and easily my young son can assimilate new facts or situations. It seems to me as though his little mind, so eager for growth and knowledge, just raced through new concepts, filing them neatly under real or not real, fact or fiction, fun or hard work like a computer parsing its next set of instructions. For me, even as my amazement at his rapid acceptance of this terrifying fact, this realization, that a dead woman, a woman who had died from an obviously horrible and most likely highly communicable disease, had risen and ... attacked us - the realization wasn't as easy. It had attacked us. This fact snapped me out of it and back to the here and now.
"What are we going to do ...?" I mused back at him. "First, we call for help, because I think everyone in that store is either just as sick as that lady was or will be very soon, how's that sound?"
Having Daddy announce a definitive action seemed to bolster the boy, who stood a little straighter at the thought of some kind of positive action in the face of this horrible thing he had just seen.
"Why don't you go put the dogs on their leashes and walk them around a little, Son?"
"OK Dad, but I am not letting you out of my sight. That lady scared me bad!"
"Good, I think that's smart." With a mission to perform, the lad was able to settle down some. Besides, the dogs were not small, and Bill always felt safer with his furry friends by his side.
I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and realized it had been off all morning. Although my wife had merely rolled over and mumbled when I kissed her cheek and headed out for the morning's activities, as soon as the phone's operating system booted up, the message alert popped on. You Have Voicemail, it chimed in an artificially cheerful voice. I nearly lost myself in a befuddled rage at that - how could this stupid device be cheery after what I had just seen? I caught myself and instead hit play.
"Honey, did you see the news this morning? Call me now!" Liz was a little high-strung on occasion, but this was real fear in her voice and I wasn't used to hearing that. I dialed immediately.
"There you are!" She yelled into the phone.
"You'll never believe what just happened to us," I gushed at the same moment, relieved to hear her voice and know that she and the rest of our five children were safe.
"You first," We both said at the same time. This was usually my cue to remain silent, but it seemed that she wanted to hear my news because the silence on the line stretched out for a few seconds before I began. "The lady at the outdoor counter in Wad-Mart just died right there in front of us!"
"You have Bill with you? Did he see that?" Ever the protective Mom, she immediately asked after our youngest son.
"Yes dear, and yes, he was with me when it happened, but that wasn't the worst of it - I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all."
"She came back to life, didn't she?" Liz preempted.
"How did you know?" I asked, mystified at her seeming clairvoyance.
"It's all over the news - it's this flu! They're calling it the Zombie flu!"
"I've been hearing about it, but Zombies? I mean, come on!" I replied, my incredulity spilling through the phone and out onto her shoulder.
"No honey, the governor was just on TV - it's what woke me up," I always turned the TV on for her when I left in the morning, usually on the Discovery Channel, as I had this morning, to help her, not much of a morning person, to wake up.
"How'd you hear the governor? I left the TV on Discovery!"
"I know - he came on so I changed the channel. He was on every channel - it was an emergency broadcast. He said that the Zombie flu is here. It's killing people here! You need to come home now! And get Bill a shotgun, too!"
That last part brought me up short. "What do you mean?" I tried to deflect, but my heart sunk as I realized I'd been caught.
"Go back to the gun counter and get Bill a 20 gauge. You know he can't keep a secret."
Damn that motherly instinct. I'd been an idiot to think that she'd not realize I was teaching our son to shoot.
"Get home as fast as you can, honey. I think we all need to get somewhere else - somewhere safe."
"All right. I'll grab another gun, and be there as soon as I can."
I looked toward my son as he wandered around the parking lot following the dogs' noses. Should I bring him back in with me? Into there? I noticed that both of the dogs' hackles were raised and that they weren't sniffing for sign of other animals to cover with their own scent. Quite the opposite, the were both fully on guard, one on either side of the young boy, and were warily searching for the source of the danger they clearly sensed. Yup. Better bring all three of them in - it would be useful, because in the back of my mind I had already accepted that everyone in Wad-Mart today was infected, and every one of them was after one thing and one thing only ... living flesh.
Damn. This today wasn't going to be much fun after all.
"Dad," Bill managed between gulps of air, "She was, sh-she was ..."
"Yes, Son," I replied, myself struggling to fill my lungs with clean, cool early-morning air. "She was dead. And then she was standing up again."
Bill just stared at me. I could only respond by staring at him. I think we each could see the gears in each others' minds turning and turning, trying to fit the sentence I had just managed to spit out into our conception of How the World Works.
Bill, being ten, and therefore much more resilient than I was at my almost-mid-life age, straightened up and with a deep breath asked, "Well, what do we do about that?"
It's amazing how quickly and easily my young son can assimilate new facts or situations. It seems to me as though his little mind, so eager for growth and knowledge, just raced through new concepts, filing them neatly under real or not real, fact or fiction, fun or hard work like a computer parsing its next set of instructions. For me, even as my amazement at his rapid acceptance of this terrifying fact, this realization, that a dead woman, a woman who had died from an obviously horrible and most likely highly communicable disease, had risen and ... attacked us - the realization wasn't as easy. It had attacked us. This fact snapped me out of it and back to the here and now.
"What are we going to do ...?" I mused back at him. "First, we call for help, because I think everyone in that store is either just as sick as that lady was or will be very soon, how's that sound?"
Having Daddy announce a definitive action seemed to bolster the boy, who stood a little straighter at the thought of some kind of positive action in the face of this horrible thing he had just seen.
"Why don't you go put the dogs on their leashes and walk them around a little, Son?"
"OK Dad, but I am not letting you out of my sight. That lady scared me bad!"
"Good, I think that's smart." With a mission to perform, the lad was able to settle down some. Besides, the dogs were not small, and Bill always felt safer with his furry friends by his side.
I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and realized it had been off all morning. Although my wife had merely rolled over and mumbled when I kissed her cheek and headed out for the morning's activities, as soon as the phone's operating system booted up, the message alert popped on. You Have Voicemail, it chimed in an artificially cheerful voice. I nearly lost myself in a befuddled rage at that - how could this stupid device be cheery after what I had just seen? I caught myself and instead hit play.
"Honey, did you see the news this morning? Call me now!" Liz was a little high-strung on occasion, but this was real fear in her voice and I wasn't used to hearing that. I dialed immediately.
"There you are!" She yelled into the phone.
"You'll never believe what just happened to us," I gushed at the same moment, relieved to hear her voice and know that she and the rest of our five children were safe.
"You first," We both said at the same time. This was usually my cue to remain silent, but it seemed that she wanted to hear my news because the silence on the line stretched out for a few seconds before I began. "The lady at the outdoor counter in Wad-Mart just died right there in front of us!"
"You have Bill with you? Did he see that?" Ever the protective Mom, she immediately asked after our youngest son.
"Yes dear, and yes, he was with me when it happened, but that wasn't the worst of it - I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all."
"She came back to life, didn't she?" Liz preempted.
"How did you know?" I asked, mystified at her seeming clairvoyance.
"It's all over the news - it's this flu! They're calling it the Zombie flu!"
"I've been hearing about it, but Zombies? I mean, come on!" I replied, my incredulity spilling through the phone and out onto her shoulder.
"No honey, the governor was just on TV - it's what woke me up," I always turned the TV on for her when I left in the morning, usually on the Discovery Channel, as I had this morning, to help her, not much of a morning person, to wake up.
"How'd you hear the governor? I left the TV on Discovery!"
"I know - he came on so I changed the channel. He was on every channel - it was an emergency broadcast. He said that the Zombie flu is here. It's killing people here! You need to come home now! And get Bill a shotgun, too!"
That last part brought me up short. "What do you mean?" I tried to deflect, but my heart sunk as I realized I'd been caught.
"Go back to the gun counter and get Bill a 20 gauge. You know he can't keep a secret."
Damn that motherly instinct. I'd been an idiot to think that she'd not realize I was teaching our son to shoot.
"Get home as fast as you can, honey. I think we all need to get somewhere else - somewhere safe."
"All right. I'll grab another gun, and be there as soon as I can."
I looked toward my son as he wandered around the parking lot following the dogs' noses. Should I bring him back in with me? Into there? I noticed that both of the dogs' hackles were raised and that they weren't sniffing for sign of other animals to cover with their own scent. Quite the opposite, the were both fully on guard, one on either side of the young boy, and were warily searching for the source of the danger they clearly sensed. Yup. Better bring all three of them in - it would be useful, because in the back of my mind I had already accepted that everyone in Wad-Mart today was infected, and every one of them was after one thing and one thing only ... living flesh.
Damn. This today wasn't going to be much fun after all.
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