The Infected Trilogy Read online

  It was kinda creepy leaving the house now. The last time we left a psycho tried to grab Breanne. There is no way I was going to let that happen again, I decided. It’s not that Bre was weak, I’ve just grown very protective of her since the accident. My initial thoughts are to carry my little 22 around with me so that if anyone tries to touch us they will soon regret it. I will not hesitate to put someone in their place if the need be. The world has grown insane and maybe it has caused some insanity in me too.

  We arrived home and turned the T.V. to the 24 hour news station. Everybody was glued to the news now. It didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. Then the thought hit me, I haven’t been able to reach mom or my brother Chris for over a week. I wondered for a while if something was wrong. People in town were already becoming infected, surely Fresno had infected people too.

  “Bre, I haven’t been able to reach mom or Chris for over a week now. I’m starting to worry. Do you think I should go check on them? I know it’s risky leaving the house right now but this is kind of important.”

  Bre didn’t hesitate to offer her opinion. “Let’s go.”

  So we jumped in her dirty Honda and sped on hwy 99 to go check on Chris and mom.

  The world was in chaos everywhere and Fresno was even worse. Roads were jammed, people were wandering around aimlessly, and many stores were closed. At almost every block was an accident, bloody people were wandering everywhere.

  Finally we reached mom’s house and I could tell instantly something was wrong. It was night time and the porch light was off. Mom never left the porch light off at night and especially not in the fog. I quickly approached the house and cautiously turned the door handle. I was surprised to see the lights inside off as well. It was only a little after 8 pm.

  I knocked and nobody answered. So I turned the door handle and suddenly I hear a loud SWOOSH sound. My instant reaction was to reach for whatever is being swung at me. I caught the bat mid swing and boy did that hurt! I hear Chris swear and then run for the back door.

  “Chris!” I anxiously cried out, “It’s me, Zoe!”

  My younger brother Chris ran at me frantically sobbing and held me so tight that I couldn’t breathe. Chris was only 17 years old. He wasn’t the crying type so this caught me off guard.

  “Chris, what’s wrong? Why are you guarding the door with a baseball bat?”

  “Just yesterday mom went crazy on me and I had to lock her out of the house. She hung out outside for almost a day and finally she left a few hours ago. I must have forgotten to lock the door back the last time I checked the yard.”

  Chris brushed his mid length blonde hair out of his eyes so he could see me more clearly. I quickly locked the door and turned on the lights. There was safety in numbers I decided.

  Poor Chris was a sight. He looked like he hadn’t slept, showered or ate for days. He was fairly tall with blonde Beiber like hair and soft blue eyes. He was a muscular, medium build but I noticed a definite change in his weight since the last time I saw him.

  “When is the last time you ate or showered Chris?” I motherly demanded of him.

  “I don’t know sis. Like I said, things have been nuts around here. I don’t understand what is going on.”

  “Do us all a favor and go take a fast shower. I’ll make you something to eat and then we can talk about what happened.”

  He obeyed like the good little man that he was.

  Chapter 3

  BREANNE

  Zoe quickly whipped up some chorizo and eggs with tortillas for her brother. Chris was out of the shower before I even knew he was in. I hated seeing him like his. I couldn’t keep the thoughts from flooding my mind. Was he ok? What happened to him? Where was Aunt Brooke? What the heck could have startled him so bad that he was waiting by the door with a baseball bat? Why hasn’t he ate or showered? What happened to my sweet little cousin Chris?

  I know he isn’t little anymore. He was 16 and practically a man. He was certainly every teenage girl’s dream. I remember a time when we couldn’t fight the girls off fast enough. Chris was used to being the center of attention. He was strong and always so calm, cool and collected that it shocked me to see him this way.

  I couldn’t help and let my worry be known. “Chris, now tell us from the beginning what happened.”

  “Yeah, I want to know where mom is,” demanded Zoe.

  Chris could barely hold back the tears. “Well, you know how mom works at the clinic? She came home from work early one day with a fever. I figured she caught the flu since its going around right now. She was pretty sick so I stayed home all week to take care of her. She slept a lot and ate like a horse. She didn’t get better after a few days. She just kinda lost it,” he paused in deep thought.

  Through his tears he continued, “She got a weird look in her eyes and started acting confused. I kept taking her temperature because I didn’t understand what was going on. Yesterday she even forgot who I was. I tried to get her in the car to take her to the hospital and that’s when it all happened.” Chris paused, with an obviously pained expression painted on his face.

  His bottom lip quivered. “When I tried to move her she attacked me. She tried to hit me and she was groaning. Then she tried to bite me.”

  I couldn’t hide my distress at this point, but all signs pointed to the Z virus. Chris lost it at that point. All of his emotions poured out over his eggs. Tears ran so fast from his cheeks that there was quickly a pool on his plate. Zoe speedily grabbed him up into a hug and they cried together until his face became numb.

  “I don’t know what was wrong with her. I called the police to see if they could help. All they did was tell me to get her to the “Z” clinic. When I was on the phone with them she snatched the phone out of my hand and threw it up against the wall. Then she ran and hid my phone. She looked like a crazy person.”

  “And that’s why you didn’t call me,” Zoe concluded.

  “Yeah.”

  “So what happened then?” I asked.

  “The only thing I could do was get her outside and lock the doors. She stood at the door and windows making crazy noises and clawing at the windows trying to get in. It’s almost like she forgot how to do anything. I figured she would break a widow or something but she didn’t. It was strange. I stayed up all night watching this, hoping she would stop so I could get her to the hospital. But she didn’t. She kept it up until late this afternoon. So I sat here with a bat in case she tried to hurt me. I kept all of the lights off so she would think I left. I couldn’t call anyone because she hid my phone. I don’t think the cops would have helped me anyway. They did say they’ve been getting a lot of calls lately.”

  “So mom left, just like that? Her car is still here. Did she leave on foot?” Zoe asked.

  “Yeah. It was strange. She hobbled away. I hope she doesn’t come back all crazy today. I need to sleep. I was up all night,” Chris declared.

  “Well, I think until we know what is going on you should come home with us,” I begged.

  He didn’t hesitate to take me up on my offer. He hastily packed his bags and was waiting by the door for us. He had 2 bags, one for clothes and toiletries, and one for his play-station and I-pad. He was a true game addict. Zoe searched the house for mom’s purse and quickly returned with credit cards and money.

  “He has to eat right?” Zoe laughed.

  We got in the car and headed back to Porterville. I hated the ride from Fresno to Porterville. Hwy 99 was probably one of the worst highways in California. The state spent billions of tax dollars in an attempt to “fix” the highway but they ended up making it worse. The road had so many bumps and potholes it was pathetic. This fog wasn’t making it any easier either. You can guarantee at sundown it was practically zero visibility. Crawling home at 20mph wasn’t my idea of fun. It took us a little under 4 hours to get home when it usually took us an hour. It was a quiet
4 hour drive, but none of us could bring ourselves to talk. I think we just needed time to process the last day’s events.

  After getting Chris settled in, we all sat around the kitchen table and had some warm tea. Zoe heated up a pizza pocket for Chris and he pretty much devoured it. 3 pizza pockets later we finally talked.

  “So Chris, have you watched the news in the last week?” I asked.

  “No. Why, what’s going on?” He replied.

  I explained the virus and how it all started. The look on his face was pure terror.

  “Do you think that’s what happened to mom?”

  Zoe hesitantly replied this time. “Yes.”

  “So what are we going to do? We need to help her!”

  “Not if we can’t find her. There are squads patrolling each town looking for “Lost” people. There is nothing we can do for her that they won’t. Putting ourselves around her right now is just putting us at risk. For now you need to stay with us until we know what is happening to her.” Zoe paused. “We need to buy you a phone and anything else you will need over the next few weeks or at least until we know what has happened to her.”

  “I’ll alert the CDC that she has symptoms and is wandering around Fresno.” I interrupted. I felt like I was being helpful.

  The next morning I looked out of my bedroom window only to see a pane of white covering everything. The fog wasn’t lifting anytime soon. I dressed in some of my warmest clothes since we were venturing out to shop that day. Town was eerily quiet once again. I’m assuming it was because everyone was heeding to the warnings to stay inside.

  With Aunt Brooke’s credit card in hand, we approached Wal-Mart. The store was practically empty. Zoe flashed me a mischievous smile, faintly lifted up the edge of her shirt to reveal her handgun to me. Chris thankfully didn’t notice and all I could do in reply was chuckle. I knew Zoe all too well. She was going to protect what she loved at any expense.

  We trailed the aisles picking up all of Chris’ necessities, including a prepaid smart phone. Zoe led us to sporting goods to buy some ammo.

  “Better safe than sorry, I always say,” declared Zoe.

  She packed as much ammo as they would allow her onto the counter. The cashier didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with what she just did although he commented that he’s seen a lot of that the last few days. I kindly commented back that he was brave working under conditions like this. He smiled in response and we went our way.

  We hit the grocery aisles next and stocked up on as much as our little apartment could fit and then proceeded home. We made it to the store and back with no problems. I wasn’t expecting that.

  Later that afternoon I could hear Zoe on the phone through the walls of our bedrooms. She was placing a call to her grandpa. She told him the whole story and then began to reply with: I know gramps. Im taking care of him. We are protected. We have plenty of food and ammo. Ok, you can bring more. Ok I’ll see you in a few days. Thank you gramps. Love you.

  That’s the worst part of living in cheap apartments; you could hear everything through the walls. Zoe walked into my room to inform me that her grandfather would be visiting and he was bringing us more guns and ammo. He would also be taking us out to the shooting range and teaching us how to protect ourselves. It probably couldn’t hurt to learn how to use a gun especially since the world we once knew was falling apart around us.

  He arrived that Tuesday. “Gramps” apparently didn’t have a name since that’s what he introduced himself as. He gave me a firm hand shake. I studied his face. He was healthy for a man of 70. He had salt and pepper hair and grey blue eyes. I could definitely see the resemblance between him and Zoe. He was a hard man, trained in combat. He served our country many years in the military. He certainly knew his guns. I decided that is probably where Zoe got her love of guns.

  We stayed at the shooting range practically all day learning and asking questions. Gramps said his goodbyes and Zoe actually cried when he left, which is rare. It was probably only the 3rd time I’ve ever seen her cry. I went home that night confident in my ability to use any type of gun and gramps surely left us an assortment to choose from at any time.

  We got home and I slept. The last few weeks have been exhausting to me. It wasn’t easy staying locked up in an apartment either. School wasn’t starting back any time soon so all we could do was stay busy at home and try not to venture out too much.

  The next few weeks weren’t that bad. Between internet, Chris’ Play-station and books I didn’t have too much time to get bored, but I did miss the sunlight. The fog finally lifted for now and it was back to our usual sunny, 65 degrees in January. I was feeling like a caged animal and I knew they were too. Finally I voiced my concern and was shocked to hear they were feeling caged too. So we bravely decided to set out.

  We ended up at a park that not a lot of people knew about. It was a small park that mostly drug dealers used at night. I didn’t care at that point, I just needed out of the apartment. We sat in the grass for the longest time just burning up some vitamin d.

  And there she was. She was an awkwardly behaving woman. She kind of dragged her left leg and had a strange gray tone to her skin. She moaned gently as she approached us. That’s when I noticed blood trailing down her arm. She was injured. Was she infected or had she been attacked? It wasn’t until she jumped at Chris that I knew which it was.

  Chris gave her a quick karate chop and we all dashed to the car.

  “What the heck is going on here? Are all the infected violent?” Chris asked.

  “I don’t know Chris,” Zoe replied. “But I’m determined to find out.”

  We watched the news faithfully over the next few days. Finally we were getting somewhere. The news proclaimed that as the disease progressed, the infected were getting violent. The violence was mostly coming through bites and scratches. It gave me a flash back of the chunk out of the lady’s arm at the park that day.

  Over the next few days the 24 hour news channel became our larger source of help. After all, how could newly news junkies get their fix faster? We watched reports that claimed Z. Ombie was making its rounds around America. Apparently 1/10 of people were infected with the virus at this point. News casts were filled with violent images of people attacking other people. Blood was shed and humans were taking bites out of other humans. One lady was moaning, “BRAINS!”, and attempting to take a bite out of another person’s head. We watched as it showed lines of people forcing the blood covered people they love into breathalyzer lines, and then people screaming as their family member was removed by the CDC and held in the “Z” clinics.

  So the virus was turning people violent, I thought. The government offered no source of hope concerning this. All they told the nation was that they were working on getting this under control and that scientists were working day and night on a cure. That offered us no hope. From what Zoe, Chris and I could see, this problem was just going to get worse.

  “It’s funny the virus is called z. ombie,” Chris commented. “They should just call them zombies.” Chris and I let out a big belly laugh.

  “Chris! I think you are onto something!” Cried Zoe. “They are trying to eat flesh and are trying to feast on brains after all.” She quickly joined in on the laugh.

  Apparently Chris wasn’t the only one with that brilliant idea. Before long the news was calling them zombies. It was catching. Many people made jokes about the whole thing but it was kind of eerie to me that these people looked and behaved like zombies.

  Later that evening I went out. I didn’t tell Zoe or Chris because they were asleep, but I assumed the town was as dead as it was before. We needed milk so I headed out to the convenience store. The store was packed full of people much to my surprise. The poor Indian clerk could barely keep up with all the demands people were making on him. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he struggled. Some people were just walking out with w
hat they wanted and he could do nothing to stop them. He screamed profanities at them and began throwing stuff. People continued to grab and run, accompanied by the occasional ducking.

  I turned to the counter with my gallon of milk and a man grabbed me. He looked fine and certainly didn’t look like one of the infected. He wasn’t bloody at all. He looked me in the eye and attempted to take a huge bite out of my forearm. Suddenly an older man jumped in between us, maced the zombie and yanked me away from the flesh eater. He dragged me outside by the hood of my purple hoodie.

  “Miss! What in the world is wrong with you?!!” he shouted.

  “I’m so grateful to you for saving me, but what did I do wrong sir?” I defensively replied.

  “Are you crazy going out in public without some sort of protection? You could really get hurt with all of these zombies running around! Have you no common sense?”

  Hurt by this stranger’s words I only responded, “Yes sir, I must be crazy. I guess I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

  He took me by the arm and led me to my car. He proceeded to tell me that we needed to talk if I wanted to survive.

  This stranger’s goal in life, his mission, is to educate people because the government was not doing its job. Why I accepted this stranger in my car was beyond me. Desperate times made people desperate, I guess. I stared out of the car window into the scummy parking lot of the convenience store. The exterior of the building needed some serious TLC and it was apparent that this store owner had lost his pride. The paint was peeling; the cement was stained and covered with black spots that I could only assume to be gum. It was apparent that he didn’t care about the cleanliness of his business and apparently I didn’t care either because I still shopped there.

  “Miss, are you listening to me? What I have to say is very important!” The stranger asked, pulling me back to reality.

  “Yeah. Sorry. Please continue.”

  “So as I was saying, Zombies are not the undead as people are guessing, they are living with an infectious disease that slowly kills them. This is not some scary story of flesh eating monsters. Zombies are humans, look human and are very much alive in the beginning. There is no way to tell they are infected in the initial stages. Zombies can eat human food in the early stage, but lose some capabilities. They do not know they are infected. As they progress into the next phase, they start craving the smell of humans, the look in their eyes changes and they begin to realize they want to eat human flesh and brains. They don’t know what it is that they are craving yet but they know the craving is intense. For them it’s like a heroin addict needing a fix. Once they noticeably start changing, they don’t want food anymore. It’s the cells in the human body they are craving. They crave it because so many of their cells are dying off too quickly. It really is an attempt at survival for them. Their mind tricks their bodies into thinking that ingesting cells will help them renew their own dead cells. And that my dear, is the first stage which lasts about 2 weeks.”