Pathogen - Chapter 7

Together the four friends cruised on in silence. They had a plan, which made them feel safer than not having a plan, but still they felt uneasy. They didn’t know how far the virus, or whatever it was that made dead men walk, had spread. What they did know is that it was some seriously nasty stuff, and they wanted nothing to do with it.

Grace was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. “Hey, Steve,” she asked as she looked up in the rearview, “If none of this had happened, and we were playing that game still, what would we be doing right now?”

Steve cracked a wry smile, “Fighting an army of zombies,” he answered.

Grace sighed. She was sorry she’d asked.

“Wait a sec,” Steve voiced an idea, “Why don’t we head home? We should be able to scrounge up our supplies there. At least we’d know where everything is.”

“That sounds pretty reasonable,” Cliff agreed.

Aaron shook his head, “No way, man. We all live in the city. Whatever we’re dealing with here, I guarantee it’s ten times worse there.”

“Well, what about our families,” Steve insisted, “Don’t we have an obligation to save our folks?”

“Mine are vacationing in Mexico,” Cliff answered.

“Florida,” Grace joined in.

Even Aaron’s parents were away, “Bahamas.”

“Oh,” Steve replied, “Well thank god for the Canadian winter, huh?”

“How about you, Steve?” Grace looked up again, “Do you have anybody out there?”

“Just Scruffy,” Steve explained sadly, “I moved across the country away from my family when I was eighteen. Scruffy’s all the family I have.”

Grace suddenly felt ashamed. She never knew about Steve’s family because she had never bothered to ask. Now she was beginning to see why the boy was willing to risk his life for his dog.

Cliff interrupted her train of thought by pointing at something through the windshield, “Hey, what’s that in the road there?”

Vernon ground to a halt. The gang had just come down the great hill that separated the city from the suburbs and were just coming onto a neighbourhood of cookie cutter houses. Through the fog, however, they spotted an obstacle in their path. A Fog City Police car was sitting in the middle of the road, lights flashing.

Together they sat in the car in uneasy silence. For a full minute they waited, before realising nobody was coming out to give them official instructions. The car was abandoned.

Squinting through the zombie slobber plastered across her windshield, Grace noticed something. “The door’s open,” she announced.

Aaron leaned forward between the front seats to get a better look. “So it is,” he observed.

“We should go check it out,” Cliff suggested, “Maybe we’ll find something useful.

So decided, the gang piled out of the car. Grace and Aaron clutched their kitchen knives, feeling uneasy about not being able to see much around them in the fog. However, Cliff and Steve had no such security blankets. They shivered through their winter coats, but it wasn’t the cold November air that gave them chills.

The passenger door of the FCPD squad car was the one that was open, which was on the opposite side of them. Together they walked around the front of the car, when Aaron noticed something else.

“Hey, there’s a cop in there,” he pointed.

Steve returned to the driver’s side and peered through the windshield. There was a lot of glare since it was brighter on the street, but there was no mistaking it, someone was in the driver’s seat. “I think he’s dead,” Steve suggested.

They stopped in front of the car a moment longer, just observing. There were no signs of life. Equally important, there were no signs of unlife. However he had died, the constable didn’t appear to be getting up to eat anybody’s face.

“Maybe he has a gun?” Aaron wondered aloud.

Steve tried the door, but found it was locked. He noticed Aaron was on the other side. “Why don’t you take a look?” he suggested.

“Me?” Aaron asked incredulously, “Why should I go?”

Steve shook his head, “You’re such a baby. Fine, I’ll go crawling over the dead guy,” He announced as he circled the car again, “You guys keep an eye on things.”

Cliff and Grace peered through the fog around them. “I’m not sure how much good that’s going to do,” Grace answered.

Steve came around to the passenger side. A quick glance inside determined his surroundings. The back of the car was separated from the front by a steel screen, to keep the detainees in. A radio and controls for the siren were the only other things in the interior of the car that distinguished it as a service vehicle. The cop was indeed packing heat: he carried both a sidearm and a taser. Steve wondered what else he might be carrying in his utility belt. He was just about to reach across the body when Aaron pulled him back.

“Wait,” he hissed, “I’ve seen this like, a hundred times in the movies. You think he’s dead, but as soon as you touch him he jump scares you. Every time.”

Steve inspected the body, “I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“That’s what they always say, too,” Aaron insisted, “And then, bam! Zombie in their face.”

Gingerly, Steve reached out to the deceased cop and tapped him on the shoulder. He drew his hand back quickly but there was no response. Reaching in again, he shook the officer this time. Instead of getting up and trying to disembowel him, the policeman’s head just slumped forward.

“See?” Steve announced, “Totally dead.”

“Okay,” Aaron was relieved, “Just be careful, man.”

Once more Steve crawled into the car. He reached across the body and withdrew the officer’s sidearm. Immediately, a zombie mashed his face into the screen in the back. Steve almost screamed in surprise; he’d had no idea anything was back there.

“I fucking told you!” Aaron practically shouted.

“Shut the fuck up,” Grace hissed, “Do you want them all to know we’re here?”

Panting, it took Steve a moment to realise he was totally safe. The zombie had pressed its face and hands into the screen, but it couldn’t break through. Likewise, the rear doors could only be opened from the outside. With a sigh of relief, Steve continued to search the officer. He pulled out of the car with a semi-automatic handgun, taser, pepper spray, and collapsible baton.

“Dibs on the gun,” Aaron declared.

“What?” Steve protested, “You can’t call dibs on a gun!”

“I just did,” Aaron stated matter-of-factly.

Cliff weighed in, “In these troubled times, we have to uphold the law ourselves. Dibs is sacred.”

“Have you ever even used one of these?” Steve asked.

“No,” admitted Aaron, “But I’ve played as many video games as you have.”

Steve relented, “At least give me your knife then.”

The two made the trade, but Steve couldn’t help feeling that Aaron had got the better bargain. Grace and Cliff approached him.

“Find anything else?” Grace asked.

Steve held up the armful of supplies that he’d liberated. “Pepper spray, taser, baton,” he rattled off the inventory.

Cliff raised an eyebrow. “Does pepper spray even work on zombies?” he questioned.

Steve thought about that, stroking an imaginary beard. He returned to the front seat of the squad car, where the zombie was making a valiant effort to chew his way through the screen. Steve aimed the pepper spray at the zombie and gave his face a hearty seasoning. The zombies eyes became inflamed and reddened, but it didn’t seem to affect its temperament.

Returning from the car, Steve discarded the canister of spray back into the car. “Pepper spray’s out,” he announced.

“What about the taser?” Grace asked.

Steve looked back at the zombie. “I don’t think we can shoot him through the screen,” he assessed, “We’re going to have to let him out.”

Everyone exchanged a look. “No way,” Aaron was the first to voice his concerns.

Grace agreed, “Aaron’s right. That is seriously a bad idea.”

“I don’t know,” Cliff shook his head, “It might be worth trying out.”

“Are you kidding me?” Grace asked, “Why should we tango with a zombie that we can just leave alone?”

“If it’s an effective weapon, we should keep it,” Cliff shrugged, “And we don’t know if it’ll be useful until we try it out. Hell, maybe it’s the cure for this, it might restart their hearts or something.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Aaron admitted.

Steve handed the baton to Cliff. “You take this,” he explained, “Just in case zapping a zombie doesn’t do anything.”

Aaron waved the gun, “I could just shoot him,” he suggested.

Together, Aaron, Cliff, and Steve took up a position at the rear door. Steve leaned forward and opened the door, then quickly retreated several paces. The zombie lurched out of the car, awkwardly finding its footing. Steve squeezed the trigger a little, activating a laser sight. He confirmed the red dot was in the middle of the zombie’s chest when he fired. Two darts with leads attached whizzed out of the stun gun, sticking fast to the zombie. It continued to lurch forward, unaffected in the slightest.

Steve casually tossed the taser aside, “So much for that.”

Aaron lined up a headshot and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. He cursed and tried again, but the trigger just wouldn’t budge.

“Safety’s on,” Steve suggested as they all backed away from the advancing zombie.

“Oh,” Aaron had forgotten to check, “Where’s the safety?”

“Should be a little switch on the side,” Steve instructed.

Aaron thumbed a switch, which was actually the magazine catch. The clip fell to the ground. Without bullets the gun was useless. He bent down to scoop up the magazine, but didn’t realise the zombie was within arm’s length. Cliff stepped up, unfolding the baton with a flick of his wrist. He struck the zombie with enough force to send it spinning, then followed up with a blow to the back of the head. It crumpled to the ground, lifeless in the literal sense.

Steve approached Aaron and snatched up the gun. “Safety,” he instructed as he pointed at the other switch on the gun, “Catch,” he pointed at the release.

“Thanks,” Aaron gulped before Steve returned the gun to him.

“It’s a good thing we have Cliff here,” Grace congratulated, “At least he’s a regular murder machine.”

Cliff beamed, flashing a white grin, “Thanks, Gray.”

Steve fixed his gaze back on the police car. He felt unfulfilled, like there was more to be had still. He returned to the front seat to look around, and his gaze fell on the radio. Steve picked it up and thumbed down the talk radio.

“Hello? This is Steve, I’m a civilian. Uhh… “ He struggled to think of something to say. “Officer down, please advise.”

Releasing the talk button, the radio screamed back silence at him. He waited a full minute before giving up. Searching for something else that might be useful, his eyes fell on the trunk release. Once more reaching over the officer, he popped the trunk.

Cliff ran around the car to inspect the contents. “Dibs!” he called out.

“Aw, fuck,” Steve complained, “What now?”

Reverently, Cliff reached into the trunk and withdrew a pump action shotgun. “They usually find one of these in the movies,” he declared.

“Sure do,” Aaron whistled, “There’s no better friend in the zombie apocalypse.”

Steve clambered back out of the car. He had a painful, twisting feeling in his guts. He’d done all the work, but his friends had reaped all the rewards. Shaking his head, he tried to banish the selfish thoughts from his mind so that he could focus on the positive. They had found weapons. Their next stop was for supplies, then they would be able to head straight for Breakwater Point. Steve didn’t think they’d truly be safe until they were holed up there.

“I think we should get out of here,” Steve suggested, “It’s probably best to keep moving around with those things out there.”

Grace nodded, shivering, “I agree. Let’s all hop in the car and find some place to go from here.”