Pathogen - Chapter 18

In the urban jungle of Fog City, a group of friends had been running for their life. Five of them went out for a night on the town, but their night turned sour when the patrons of the bar they were partying at started eating each other. Only three of them had escaped the dance floor.

Chuck reflected on the decisions he and his friends had made to try and stay alive. His friends Larry and Wanda hadn’t made it out of the bar, but a couple of his friends had fled with him. James and Vanessa thought it was best to head to the police station in the centre of town. James had said they’d find lots of weapons, and people who knew how to use them, and Vanessa always agreed with James. Chuck had his reservations about the plan, and not just because he and James didn’t get along. After seeing the chaos and bedlam in the streets, he knew that everyone in town was likely to try to make it to the police station.

It hadn’t come as a surprise to him when they finally arrived at the police station and found it was overrun by a bunch of thugs. Chuck said they should just leave, but James tried to act tough. “We aren’t leaving without some guns at least,” he’d informed the criminal authorities, “What are you going to do, shoot me?”

A moment later, Chuck and Vanessa had been dragging away James with a sucking chest wound. He died minutes later. Chuck told Vanessa they had to get out of there and try to find someplace else safe. She wouldn’t listen, and kept trying to rouse her boyfriend.

Chuck tried to physically move her, but she shoved him away. “Hands off, you fat fuck!” she’d screamed at him.

Knowing she was set in her ways, he decided to leave her behind and strike off on his own. As he was walking away, Vanessa was surprised to see that James had been resuscitated. Her screaming indicated that she was more surprised when he bit a huge chunk out of her neck. Chuck set off running after that.

As he reflected, Chuck realised he’d never run so much in his life. After the first block, he was tired. As he ran around the second block, he became exhausted. He thought he’d give up at the end of the third block, until he’d literally bumped into a zombie coming around the corner.

The dead man had been knocked to the ground by the unexpected assault, and for the first time in his life Chuck had been thankful for his prodigious girth. However, there were far more than just the first zombie around the corner, and they immediately set upon him. Chuck ran for eight more blocks without complaint, even though it might as well have been a marathon for him.

Miraculously, he’d been saved when a car had driven past him, swerving around the dozen zombies in the road. The driver had pulled over for Chuck and urged him to get inside. Wasting no time, Chuck had put on a burst of speed and found the safety of the stranger’s car.

The man inside was Chuck’s senior by about twenty years. In a sort of vague sense, he’d reminded him of his father. With his trimmed beard, glasses, and suit, he looked like he’d been a university professor. Chuck didn’t think to get his name, because the driver hurriedly informed him of his plan. He had a house in the suburbs where he had stockpiled supplies for a disaster. He’d expected a flood or blizzard, or maybe even invading Russians, but he felt his store would hold up in the face of zombies.

They never found out if it would. Shortly after arriving in the suburbs, the man gave began to give him a detailed inventory of supplies he’d kept in his basement. While he’d neglected to tell Chuck where exactly this valuable trove of goods was kept, he’d also neglected to keep an eye on the road. Moving at a terrific speed, the man’s car rolled over a monster pothole and blew out the tire. With the suddenly arrested momentum, the car swerved out of control and rolled over.

Counting three rotations before finally coming to a stop upside down, Chuck hadn’t been sure if he’d hold onto his lunch. What he was sure of, however, was that he was thankful he had been wearing his seatbelt. The man beside him, who had been prepared for any kind of disaster, had apparently not thought that simple act could save his life. His mangled body lay twisted over the broken windshield.

Assessing his injuries, Chuck didn’t think he’d broken anything. That was incredibly fortunate. He was less thrilled when he realised he’d have to unbuckle himself to get out. Regretting it as soon as he’d done it, Chuck fell to the ground. Righting himself as much as his above average size and the cramped interior of the car would allow, he reached up to open the door.

The crash had jammed the door shut. Before he could consider other options, Chuck heard the wail of the undead. They must have heard the wreck and were attracted to the sound. In a panic, Chuck reasoned he’d have to make it out the window. It had already broken in the crash, but now he tried to kick it out of the frame. It was hard work to gather up enough force in the interior of the car, but he kept hammering away at the window with his foot. Finally, it gave way and peeled out of the frame.

Once he’d accomplished that, Chuck realised what he’d done. There was no way a guy of his size could squeeze through that window. Cursing, Chuck could hear the snarling dead getting closer.

Looking around for another escape, he realised the back seats folded down. If that were the case, maybe he could escape out the trunk. He found the release on the floor of the car above his head and pulled. With a satisfying clunk, he heard the trunk open.

Before he could congratulate himself, Chuck saw the shadow of a nearby zombie through the window he’d kicked open. Hurrying now, he wedged himself between the front seats of the car. He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder and found a zombie crawling inside the wreck through the broken window.

In a full panic now, Chuck folded the seats down. Or up, depending on how he looked at it. They didn’t stow away into the floor as he’d hoped, but rather the top of the seat folded. With a sinking feeling of doom, Chuck realised the opening he’d made was barely larger around than the window he knew he couldn’t squeeze through. Regardless, he knew he had no choice and crammed himself into the opening.

A moment later, he was stuck in between the back seat and the trunk. He wriggled, kicked, and otherwise struggled to free himself. Without any luck, he felt the cold grip of the dead man on his leg. Lashing out with his foot, Chuck tried to kick at the unseen attacker behind him. His foot connected with something hard, but the dead man’s grasp clutched him still. Sucking in his gut, Chuck finally managed to pull himself into the trunk of the car, but not before an incredible pain shot through his leg.

To his horror, he realised he must have been bit. Rolling over onto his back, he looked through the opening and saw the zombie happily chewing away on the morsel it had ripped from his body. In a rage, Chuck kicked at its face with his good leg again and again, smashing the zombie’s head into a pulp.

All around him now, Chuck could hear the dead moan. His leg burned with pain, and he decided that one bite was enough. He had to get out of there before he became the main dish. Grabbing the edge of the trunk, Chuck pulled himself out of the car and tumbled to the ground. Pain flared in his leg, but the adrenaline was flowing through him now. Climbing to his feet, Chuck tested his leg. It pained him terribly, but his leg could still hold his weight.

Looking over his shoulder, Chuck counted more than a dozen zombies lurching towards him. Turning away, Chuck shuffled away as fast as he could. He was running downhill now, but it was even more difficult than when he had run for his life within the city.

When he started running, he was in agony. After the first block, however, the pain had all but vanished. As he staggered around the second block, he didn’t feel anything at all, not even fear of the zombies behind him. When he lurched around the third block, he almost bumped into a zombie coming around the corner again.

The zombie before him was a woman, wearing a soiled polka dot dress. She scrutinised his face. Teeth bared as her nose wrinkled to smell him. Dissatisfied, she pushed past him and continued on her way.

Chuck shuffled through the street at a relaxed pace. The zombies behind him caught up to him and surpassed him. Together they staggered aimlessly down the street. Chuck was one of the horde now. The mob of zombies wandered without direction, searching for their next meal.

The zombie formerly known as Chuck found himself strolling down a beach before long. A dreadful, insatiable hunger was welling inside of him, drowning out all other urges.

Across the howling wind and over the crashing surf, a shotgun blast boomed. As one, the zombies turned in the direction of the sound. It came from over the water. Together, they walked into the surf. Icy water washed over them, but if they felt it they didn’t care. All they knew was that they’d find food on the other side of the water.