Pathogen - Chapter 24

The rain had picked up, and the wind was howling as Aaron stood on the roof of the abandoned house. Looking about, Aaron could see zombies still marching up the beach, although for the most part they were still headed for the house. Perhaps they didn’t see him yet.

Behind him, a zombie lunged through the window. Aaron yelped as he stepped to the side and out of reach. The rooftop was treacherous, and he soon lost his footing. Tumbling backwards, he soon found himself falling through open air. A short distance later he was lying on his back in the wet grass with the wind knocked out of him.

Struggling to catch his breath, Aaron stumbled to his feet. He was sore all over, and could hardly breathe, but nothing was broken as far as he could tell. Looking over at the zombies, however, he realised they had caught sight of him and were lurching towards him now.

“Well, fuck,” Aaron declared as he gasped for breath still.

Above him Scruffy whined. Aaron looked up to see zombies pouring out the window towards the dog. Turning tail, Scruffy fled away from them and jumped off the roof. The dog yelped as it landed, but resolutely limped away. Turning to face the zombies approaching, Scruffy fled away from them and ran past Aaron.

Aaron looked over towards the cliff they had scaled to get to Breakwater Point. If he climbed down with the rope ladder, he could escape the zombies of the island and flee to the mainland. Cursing under his ragged breath, Aaron realised that would just put him in the hands of more zombies.

A zombie approached the edge of the roof and lurched over the side, apparently having no regard for the fall. It fell a few feet away from Aaron, who realised that the pursuing zombies would give him problems as he climbed down the cliff anyway. More zombies were falling off the roof now, and the ones approaching from the gentler slope were getting closer.

Raising the rifle, Aaron took aim at the closest zombie and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Taking a step back, Aaron couldn’t help laughing hysterically at the absurdity of what had just happened. He simply had the worst luck with guns, there was no denying it. However, he soon realised his problem when he pulled back the bolt and the casing for the bullet he’d fired earlier fell out.

Looking up, Aaron realised there were far more zombies than he could handle with what was left in the gun. Casting his gaze about, he saw the lighthouse towering over him. It wasn’t far, and there weren’t any zombies between him and it. Still not having recovered his wind yet, Aaron staggered away as fast as his aching lungs would allow him to.

As he was climbing up the steps to the door of the lighthouse, Aaron realised he was leaving the dog behind. “Scruffy!” he shouted and looked about for signs of the dog.

Hearing the dog bark, Aaron looked for the source of the sound. A mob of zombies had clustered around a point on the edge of the cliff. He wasn’t sure if the dog was there until he heard Scruffy yelp. The dog tumbled over the side, presumably to the water below. A handful of zombies staggered after him and fell over the side as well.

“Fuck,” Aaron cursed before turning to the matter at hand.

The zombies were closing on him, and the door to the lighthouse was shut. Saying a silent prayer to anyone who’d listen, Aaron tried the door. Mercifully, he found it unlocked. Unfortunately, on closer inspection, he noted that somebody had kicked the door open previously, and that it would not shut.

The zombies were hot on his heels, so Aaron staggered into the lighthouse. A winding staircase ran up to the next level, and this he climbed. The wooden planks serving as stairs had seen better days and were rotten by neglect and the sea air. Aaron gingerly stepped around broken steps and hoped he wouldn’t fall through. Behind him, the zombies were following up the steps, so Aaron picked up the pace.

Just as he arrived at the next level of the lighthouse, Aaron heard a loud snap. Whirling around, he saw a zombie had stepped on a rotten stair and had fallen through. She had been wedged in by her shoulders with her arms pinned to the side, no doubt comically thrashing about to get free. Her fellow zombies lurched around and over her in their pursuit of Aaron.

Looking about, Aaron tried to find something, anything, that he could use. There were two desks in this room, one covered in old papers and another with an ancient radio on it. Aaron dashed over to the first desk and flipped it over. Papers flew and daintily glided to the floor. Heaving, Aaron pulled the desk away from the wall and pushed it in front of the stairs. Panting, he realised the gambit would only buy him a few moments at best.

There was a wooden chair by the desk, and Aaron laid down the rifle next to the radio to pick it up. Like the stairs, the chair had practically rotted through. Still, it would serve his purpose. Behind him, the zombies were pushing against the desk and would be through in a just a few seconds.  Hefting the chair, Aaron dashed over and swung it at the nearest zombie. The chair exploded in a burst of splintered wood. Staggering backwards, the lead zombie stumbled and fell, bowling over the other zombies behind it.

After pushing the desk back in place, Aaron returned to the radio. Connected to the radio was a car battery, which the previous owner must have used to keep it running after the government decommissioned the lighthouse and cut the power. Flicking the radio own, Aaron was pleasantly surprised to find it in working order. Remembering the military broadcast’s instructions, Aaron fiddled with knobs and twisted dials until he was sure he was on the right frequency.

“Hello?” he queried as he leaned into the microphone, “Can anybody hear me?”

“Who is this?” an authoritative man’s voice barked back, “Identify yourself immediately!”

Aaron began to introduce himself, “My name is Aaron-”

“Are you a civilian?” the voice demanded.

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then get off this channel!” the voice thundered back. “This frequency is reserved for military operations!”

“Please, the radio said to call you,” Aaron pleaded. “The zombies are all over. I need help!”

“You and everyone else in Fog City,” the voice scoffed.

“I’m not in Fog City!” Aaron screamed. Over his shoulder he could hear the zombies snarling. They were getting closer.

The voice on the other end paused a moment. “The quarantine has been breached?” he asked gravely, “Where are you now?”

“I’m in the lighthouse at Breakwater Point,” Aaron explained and took a quick glance at the zombies which had returned to his attempted barricade. “It’s a small island, just off the coast.”

“I know where it is, dirtbag,” the voice admonished. “I’m dispatching a helo. Sit tight, you better be there when it arrives, civilian.” The officer spat the word ‘civilian’ as if it were somehow contemptuous.

“They’re here!” Aaron shouted, “I have to go!”

Without waiting for a response, Aaron snatched up the rifle. The zombies had pushed through the barricade and were advancing steadfastly towards him. Turning tail, he fled up another flight of stairs. These ones were in better condition, or at least Aaron was more desperate, and he didn’t notice anymore rot.

At the top of the stairs, Aaron found himself in the room where the light was once operated. He couldn’t find anything useful, and cast about for some means of escape. There was a door leading to a walkway around the lighthouse, and Aaron fled through it. Peering over the edge, Aaron could see far more zombies than he cared to count.

Looking up, Aaron saw the lip of the roof above him. If he stepped on the railing around the walkway, he could just reach it. Looking back down at the fall below him, Aaron realised that a single misstep would probably mean his death. With a gulp, he began to understand why so many people had a fear of heights.

Holding the rifle in one hand and with a firm grip on the railing in his other, Aaron stepped over the edge. He looked over the edge once more and then at the zombies climbing the stairs. Taking a deep breath, Aaron planted his feet on the railing, one after another, and reached up for the edge of the roof. It was at this point, so precariously perched, that the wind chose to cut through him at full force.

Thrown off kilter by the wind, Aaron stumbled and fell. For a terrifying quarter of a second, his life flashed before his eyes while he screamed. Miraculously, he caught the railing by his outstretched arms and dropped the rifle in favour of salvation. The momentum of his fall carried him into the side of the lighthouse, where once more he had the wind knocked out of him.

Looking below, Aaron saw the rifle tumble end over end to the ground. When it struck, a gunshot echoed up to him as the muzzle flashed. A nearby zombie’s head exploded. What he just witnessed was unbelievable to him. He had the worst luck with guns up to this point, and then a one in a million thing just happened which wouldn’t do him a damn bit of good.

Hand over hand Aaron pulled himself up the railing just in time to see the zombies lurching out to the walkway. Without time to catch his breath, he pulled himself up the railing again. Without wasting a moment to balance or reach, Aaron leapt freely to the edge of the roof.

For a terrifying moment, Aaron thought he wouldn’t make it, that he’d just fall again, but this time to his death. His relief was palpable when his fingers closed around the edge of the roof. Hoisting himself up, Aaron clambered over the edge of the roof and out of reach of the zombies. However, before he could pull his legs free, a zombie lunged over the side and grabbed at his foot.

The railing burst outwards as so many zombies surged against the one that had a hold of Aaron. Together they tumbled over the side and to the ground below. The zombie with a grip on Aaron’s foot swung out into empty space, and suddenly Aaron felt it’s full weight pulling down on him. For a moment he lost his grip and slid back down the roof before regaining his grip on the edge.

Aaron looked down at the zombie holding his shoe. It didn’t seem to be able to pull itself up to bite him, but still it threatened to pull him over the edge. Striking out with his free foot, Aaron kicked at the hands holding onto him. Again and again, he lashed out at the zombie’s hands. If it could feel the kicking at all, it didn’t seem to mind. Aaron kicked wildly and savagely, this time at its arms. The force of the kick threatened to unbalance Aaron, but he was pleased to see it had caused the zombie to lose its grip with one arm.

With another desperate kick, Aaron struck the zombie in the second arm, the one holding him back. With a satisfying snap, the arm broke with the bone piercing the skin. Aaron locked eyes with the zombie, and the two snarled at each other. With a wet, tearing noise, the rotting flesh of the zombies arm began to unravel under its weight. Finally, the flesh could bear the strain no longer, and the zombie fell freely to the ground below.

Pulling himself free before another zombie could reach out to grab him, Aaron climbed to the safety of the roof. It was sharply slanted, but there was a peak in the middle that he could hold onto. Crawling up the steep incline, Aaron reached out and seized a firm grip on the handhold.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aaron looked down. He screamed in terror when he saw another zombie clutching at his foot. A moment passed, and he sheepishly realised that it was the arm of the zombie that had almost pulled him off the roof. Even no longer attached to the body, it had struggled to let go.

Kicking his foot, he loosed the hand’s grip on his foot and sent it tumbling over the side. Aaron looked out over the water. The rain lashed at him, and the waves crashed against the island. With a laugh that bordered on the hysterical, he realised he’d made it. He was alone now, but help was on the way. Although, given his luck thus far, the helicopter would probably crash in the storm.




Abruptly Aaron stopped laughing and wondered why he’d thought of that. Shaking his head, he accepted that he was safe now. At least, as safe as someone could be with no escape and surrounded by zombies.