Nightmare's walk

“Do not leave your home. Help will come to you. Again, do not leave your home. Military assistance is coming.” Eighteen year old Aaron Rogers stood in his living room listening to the same news message that has been broadcasting for two weeks now.

                Help had not come. His family was running out of food and he feared the little amount of ammo they had would not be enough if his was attached.

                He walked over to the boarded up window and peered out. Luckily he lived in the woods of Dandridge, TN and the outbreak had not found its way to the woods yet.

                It had been almost three weeks since he first heard the news broadcast about the attacks in nearby Knoxville. A solider, just back from overseas, was the first to start showing symptoms. A fever, a weird craving, and loss of color. He dies at UT Medical Center three days later. Much to the coroner’s surprise he awoke again during the autopsy, ate the coroner and wreaked havoc on the hospital.

                The press had not called it what it really was. But Aaron knew. He had read books and played video games about this. It was all supposed to be fiction. Made up from some one’s imagination. But now, that fiction had became his and the rest of the countries reality. Zombies where here in the good ole USA. After the first solider, it did not take long to spread across the city and then the nation. Even though he had not seen but a few stragglers here in the deep woods, it had hit every major city across the map. Most people fled, and where trapped in one airport, or interstate somewhere, like sitting ducks.

                He boarded the windows and counted the food supply and gathered the guns that were kept in the house. He has his mother and his little brother to protect.

                “Aaron, get away from the window.” His mom, Karen warned coming up from the basement, where they had made a safe room.         

                “There are none out there.” He told her. “We need food and more ammo.”

                “We have plenty for now.” She busied herself by making coffee, shaking the can to get the last of the ground up beans.

                “Your dad is trying to make it home.” She said. “He will take care of everything when he gets here.”

                “What if he doesn’t make it?” he asked. His dad was a long road trucker and had called when he first heard of the attacks saying he was making his way back home. But that was before the chaos spread across the country and the interstates clogged and before the cell phone towers went down. They had not heard from him in over a week and did not know where he was.  “or worse, what if he leads them to us.”

                “He won’t and he will be here.” Karen said with hope still in her eyes. “and don’t you think about leaving this house.” He shoved his hands into his pants pocket and nodded, planning the whole time.

                The next morning, right before day break, he shook his little brother, Seth awake. They slept in the basement on pallets and their mom slept not 2 feet away from Seth. Aaron pressed his finger to his lips to keep Seth quite and pointed up. Both boys snuck up the stairs and into the Kitchen and quietly as possible. They sat together at the table.

                “I have to go out for supplies.” He told Seth, who nodded in return. “I’m going to Grandad’s first for ammo and more weapons.” Their granddad had been on vacation in Florida when the attacks started. Since the airports had closed he had not been able to get back to the city. He decided to stay hole up in his condo on the beach. His granddad was resourceful and he knew he could withstand what was thrown his way. He also knew he had several guns and a bow and arrow locked away in his gun chest at his house.

                “I want to come with you.” Seth said.

                “No, I need you to stay here and protect mom.” He slid the only case of bullets and a 9mm over to him. “Take these. You have shot a couple time in the woods with Grandad. It’s the same thing here. Only use it if you have too. Only if you see one in the yard that is threatening to you or mom. And aim for the head.” He rattled off all the knowledge he had ever gathered from the zombie books and games he had read and seen over the years.

                “When I come back, do not let me in under any circumstance, unless I give you a code word.”

                “What’s the code word?” Seth asked.

                “Banana Pudding.” Aaron said thinking of the delicious dessert his mom used to make. Seth nodded.

                “Do you understand?” Aaron reinforced the importance. “Do not let me back in this house, no matter what I say, if I do not give you the code word.”

                “What if dad shows up?” Seth asked. “Should I let him in?” Aaron though for a moment.

                “If he shows up, make him tell you your full name, my full name, and his and mom’s wedding anniversary before you let him in.” Aaron reached over and grabbed his little brother’s hand. “There is so much we don’t know about this virus. That’s why all the precautions.”

                “Okay, I understand.” Seth told him.

                “Mom is going to be mad that I am gone. I promise to hurry back home.” Seth nodded, hanging on to his every word. “Once I am gone, you barricade the front door.”

                “Got it.” Seth said.

                Aaron stood and Seth followed.

                “Aaron, be careful.” Seth said. Aaron grabbed his little brother and hugged him tight, hoping he made it back home to him. He pulled an old walkie talkie out of his pocket.

                “Here,” he handed it to Seth. “If there is an emergency turn it on and radio me.” Seth took the walkie and nodded. “Any extra sound might attrack the zombies. Aaron began to walk to the front door, with Seth close behind.

                “Do not leave the house for any reason.” Aaron continued to give orders. “I will be home soon.

He shouldered the rifle that his dad had bought for Christmas last year, tossed an old back pack over his shoulder, and picked his walkie up from the table and clipped it to his belt.

                “Good luck.” Seth said. “See if you can find any candy!” Aaron took his first step outside. The first step out since two weeks ago when he had been out to board up the windows. Aaron smiled back at his little brother.

                “If I find it, the biggest sweetest candy bar is yours.” Seth smiled back then closed the door, leaving Aaron standing alone of the front porch as the sun was starting to rise. He stayed on the porch until he heard the noise of the couch being pushed in front of the door. Then Aaron headed off into the break of day.

                His granddad lived two blocks away from their house. Those two blocks seemed to take an eternity to walk. Every sound he heard, he jumped. Even though the sun was rising it was cloudy and overcast, and the woods absorbed what little sun made it through. Dark shadows fell on the road and the small flash light he carried did little to penetrate the dark forest.

                He paused completely once when he heard a twig snap to his left. He was about to aim the rifle when a deer trotted across the road. He breathed a sigh of relief and continues on his way.

                Finally he arrived at his grandfather’s house. The porch light was on since before the attacks his mom was coming over after work and watering his plants, checking his mail, and feeding the outdoor birds for him. He went straight for the hide a key hidden under a rock by the front steps and quickly unlocked the door and stepped into the house.

                He took a moment to look around. Even tho the house was empty, it still smelled like his grandfather and that brought on pleasant memories. He said a quick prayer for him, hoping that he was able to fight off the zombies in Florida and that he would see him again.

                He went first to the gun safe in his granddad’s closet. He knew the key was kept in the top of it. While not the safest place, it was still out of reach of little hands. Once it popped open, he stared in awe at the gun collection. Two shotguns, a hunting rifle, numerous handguns, and a bow and arrow. He reached for the bow first. Taking it in his hands and carefully placing it against the wall. He went through the closet until he found his granddad’s old army bag that was just big enough for the guns to fit in. He grabbed out the rifle and shotguns and placed them in the bag. He checked the safety on the chamber on the handgun and placed through his belt. He went to the floor, to the smaller safe and quickly twisted in the combination, his mom’s birthday. Here is where the ammo was kept. He hastily pulled it out and tossed it into the bag with the guns. He tossed the bag over his shoulder with the other and grabbed the bow.

                Before leaving he made a quick inventory of the freezer and cabinets. He came away with a jar of peanut butter, some crackers, and a couple packs of roman noodles. Knowing he was going to have to venture into town to the store, he grabbed the keys to the old Ford truck, hoping it would start. He tossed the guns into the bed of the truck, pulled out the handgun and placed it on the dash board and was about to lay the bow across the seat and climb into the truck when he saw movement by the creek that flowed behind Granddad’s house.  He took a step around the truck and saw someone standing beside the creek. He creeped closer, getting the bow ready as he went.

                He was about the let loose an arrow when he heard a sob. He wasn’t sure if zombies could cry or not. He was tightening the bow, getting ready to fire, when the person turned to face him. Aaron lowered the bow.

                Jaime?” he questioned. “What are you doing here?” Jaime lived nearby, closer to the downtown area. They had been best friends since grade school. Tears were streaming down Jaime’s face.

                “I didn’t know where else to go.” Aaron move cautiously towards his friend, heading the warning he had given to Seth.

                “Where’s your family? Shouldn’t you be with them?”

Jaime wiped his face with his sleeve. “They are dead man.” he cried. “My mom, my sisters, my dad, they are all dead.” He sobbed. Aaron shifted his weight and rested the bow on the ground.

                “By the zombies?” he questioned, afraid of the answer his friend would give. He knew what it meant if the virus had reached Jaime and his family downtown. Jaime nodded his head as tears continued to stream down his face.

                “But, I thought we were safe out here.” he glanced back towards the truck where the guns rested in the back. Safe was a loose term when talking about zombies. He had always joked with his buddies that he was prepared for the Zombie apocalypse, that he could survive. But this day, standing out in the open next to the creek where he, Seth, and Jaime had played, and where he had learned to fish with his dad, and even where he had kissed his first girl, and now, hearing his best friend tell him his family was dead, nothing prepared you for that, and for the fear he felt.

                He shook his head to clear it. “I haven’t seen any here in over a week. I guess I thought it was under control.”

                “Control?” Jaime laughed, not his high pitched laugh that he would burst out into when Aaron had told him a funny joke, but a deep, sarcastic laugh. “It’s chaos, man.” Jaime shook his head. “That man, that solider, who was first infected, he was from Dandridge. He was here before he was in the hospital. No one knows who this thing is spread. Some even say it is airborne and that we all are infected.”

                Aaron gulped and stared wided eyed at his friend.

                “You may not have seen any yet. And trust me you really don’t want too. I some how got away, and I came here. I thought you Granddad could help me. I knew he had guns. He let me fire them once.” Jaime paused and stared past Aaron to the house. “I guess they got him too.” Aaron shook his head.

                “No.” Aaron corrected him. “He’s in Florida. He is safe, at least I hope. And I have the guns.”

                “That’s good. I hope he is safe too.”

                “Listen, I have to go into the city to get supplies. Come with me and I will take you back home with me.”

                “Going into the city is dangerous.” Jaime warned.

                “I know, but we are running out of food and water.” Aaron slung the bow over his shoulder. “Come on, I could use the help.”

                He started back towards the truck.

                “Do you think I could have one of those guns?” Jaime asked coming up behind him. Aaron reached into the bed of the truck and pulled the shotgun out and a hand gun and handed it to Jaime. With out another word, he climbed up into the truck, sitting the bow between the seat an dashboard, rubbed the steering wheel a couple time for luck and turned over the key. After a few chugs, the old Ford fired to life. Jaime climbed into the passenger seat and cradled the shotgun. He could not image how his friend must feel. He hoped his own mom, brother, and dad where safe.

                They drove the five miles to town in silence. Not wanting to risk the ride to Wal-Mart, he pulled into the Dollar General parking lot. All the lights were on, but the windows had been busted and the parking lot was empty. He pulled right up to the door. He checked the handguns ammo, satisfied it was loaded, he shoved it into his waistband.

                “Be quiet and no loud sounds.” he said to his friend. “Do not fire unless you have too.” Jaime nodded and they climbed out of the truck. “Let’s split up. Meet back here in ten minutes. Grab and food and neccesities you can find. He tossed Jaime the old back pack. He grabbed a yellow hand basket as he climbed through the broken window.

                He was filling his second basket when he heard a crash from the other side of the store. He dropped the can of tuna into the basket and headed back towards the front door. He sat it down beside the other full one and readied his bow, heading towards the sounds. He creeped down the cosmetics aisle and he heard another crash. Then he heard a cry. He quickened his pace and headed to the next aisle. The first aid aisle, he noted. Jaime stood in the middle of it holding a frying pan over his head. He started to swing it and Aaron noticed the zombie on the floor crawling towards his friend.

                “Jaime,” he whispered as loudly as he dared. “Move.” Startled, Jaime swung around, ready to use the frying pan on his head. Aaron let the arrow go and watched as it zinged, hitting the crawling zombie in the head. It twitch a moment then lay still. He walked over, kicked the zombie for good measure and pulled out his arrow. He wiped it off on his pants leg then stuck it back in it’s quiver.

                “You okay?” he asked his friend.

                “It came out of nowhere.” Jaime was near hysterical. “I was just standing here, bandaging my arm when here it came around the corner.”

                “Bandaging your arm?” Aaron asked with alarm. “Did it bite you?”

                “No.” Jaime shook his head. “He showed Aaron a long scratch on his arm. “It happened when I was trying to get away from my house. One of them scratched me.”

                Aaron stood frozen. Everything he knew about zombies running through his head. A scratch. Did a scratch equal infection? In some comics it did, in other it had to be a bite. But this was not comic or video game this was real and his best friend who had suffered the scratch.

                Deciding he could not abandon his friend until he knew more about this he jumped into action and started bandaging his arm with gauze and ace wrap from the shelf. After he was done, he tossed more into the back pack at Jaime’s feet.

                “Where is the gun I gave you?” Aaron asked.

                “Oh,” Jaime reached around to his back where the gun was snug inside his waist band. “I forgot all about it. The frying pan was laying on the shelf.” he explained. Aaron nodded.

                “Come on, we should get out of here. There may be more.” Aaron tossed the bag over his shoulder.

                On the way out, he grabbed the baskets he had filled, handed one to Jaime and headed towards the truck. He tossed them in the bed, then ran back into the store and grabbed and case of water and a case of Coke. Running back out, he tossed those in the bed of the truck and they where ready to be on their way.

                He turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened. He tried again, still nothing. He hit the steering wheel in anger.

                “Umm….dude,”Jaime said nervously from the passenger seat. “We need to go, like, now.”

                “I’m trying!” Aaron turned the key again as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “Oh no.” he sighed. Coming up the hill behind them was a horde of zombies. Some were moving slow, others were running. All of them, straight towards them.

Panicking, Aaron turned the key again and gave it some gas, mumbling encouraging words under his breath. Finally the ingnition caught and he slammed the old truck into gear and peeled out as quickly as he could leaving the horde in a cloud of smoke. As he speed away, he looked again into the rearview mirror watching the horde become specks in the distance.

                “Man, that was close!” he exclaimed.

                “Huh-huh” Jaime mumbled, looking a little green.

                “Hang in there, man.” he encouraged. “We are on our way to safety now.”

                Thirty minutes later, he turned the truck onto the road that led to his house. He screeched to a stop.

                “Not again.” Jaime moaned. What looked to be about a hundred zombies milled about in the road. Some turning and walking towards the truck and others wondering in their own stupor.

                “What now?” Jaime was panicking. “We’re doomed.” he hunched over. Aaron grabbed the bow.

                “See that house over there?” Aaron pointed the house that stood on the other side of the zombies. Jaime looked up and nodded.

                “That’s Scott Anderson’s old house. There is a bomb shelter out back. Remember? We used to play in it.” Jaime nodded again. “We need to get to it.” Aaron said. “We should be safe there for a while until I can come up with a better plan.”

                “It’s a long way from here and through about a million zombies.” Jaime pointed out.

                “Not a million, about a hundred.” he cocked the handgun. “I will grab the rest of the guns and ammo from the back. You take your handgun and start running.” A zombie pounded on the truck window and Aaron jumped in his seat. He took a deep breath.

                “Are you ready?” he asked. Jaime just nodded. Aaron slammed the door open and popped the zombie in the head.

                Jaime jumped out and started firing his hand gun in a panic, not even aiming. Aaron quickly heard it clicking as the ammo ran out. Quickly, he jumped in the bed of the truck, using the tire for leverage and grabbed the gun bag. He pulled out a box of bullets and started to toss them to his friend who was still trying to fire the empty gun.

                “This is for Molly. This is for Mom. This is for Dad. This is for Charlie. This is for Molly…..” Jaime repeated over and over.

                “Jaime!” Aaron yelled. “Snap out of it.” His friend turned to stare at him, but his friends bright blue eyes are not what stared back at him. Instead, they were dull black and his skin was turning gray. He made a hissing sound and leapt towards Aaron.

                “I’m sorry, man.” Aaron said to his friend as he pulled the trigger on the hand gun. He hit him right between the eyes and the former Jaime dropped where he was. Tears started to run down his face but he quickly pulled himself together, thinking of his own mother and brother who where counting on him.

                A hordes still stood before him. Many of them now aware of his presence brought on by the shots and he was sure they smell of his beating heart. Which he was sure they could hear as well. He wondered for a moment, how many more of his friends where in that horde and how many of them he would have to take down. When he heard a voice. A faint voice, but yet a voice. He quickly turned around and began looking about him. Then, he remembered the walkie. He unclipped it and turned it up.
                “911, 911, 911. Aaron, do you here me.” Seth’s voice broke over the radio. His family. Seth and his mom. They were in trouble.

                “Seth, I hear you.” Aaron answered back.

                “They are outside. All around.”

                “Go to the basement and lock yourself in. I am close.” he told his brother. “GO NOW!!”

He climbed up onto the roof of the truck for a better view. Once he was up there, he realized there were only about thirty zombies, instead of the hundred he had thought. He saw a path to the right. He could sneak by if he was quiet and pick off the few in the way with the bow.

                He was almost around the horde when a loud blaring sound came from behind him. He and the zombies all froze in wonderment as the 18-wheeler blared around the corner. He started shouting and waving his hands as the rig plowed through he zombies. It screeched to a halt beside him. The door swung open and he climbed in.

                “You look like you can use a lift.” his dad beamed at him.

                “Floor it! The house is under attack.” That was al it took for Paul Rogers to hit the pedal to the metal and head as fast as he could to his wife and other child.

                In a few seconds, they screeched to a halt outside their home. Several zombies wondered around the yard and some were even pounding on the boarded windows and doors. Father and son exchanged a look before both jumping out of the big rig and running for the door.

                “Seth.” he yelled into the walkie. “We are at the door.” he was almost to the steps when it hit him. A huge hulk of a zombie side swiped him and tackled him to the ground. He started to fight back, thinking this was how it was going to end. When he heard a low rumbling sound. Not his dad’s rig this time. What was that sound.

                The hulk zombie was distracted now too, looking up at the sky. Paul ran to his sun and pushed it off him as about ten helicopters passed overheard. Paul pulled his son up the steps and banged on the door.

                “Seth, it’s your dad let us in.” the helicopters were releasing some kind of mist. “Seth.” Paul pounded on the door.

                “I can’t until you telll me my full name.”

                “What?” Paul was astonished his son would not let him in his own house. Aaron was proud his little brother had remembered.

                “Seth, it’s okay. Banana Pudding!” Paul gave his son a look. The front door swung open and Seth stood there smiling. Aaron ruffled his hair and Karen threw her self into Paul’s arms.

                “I knew you would make it.”

Aaron looked back out into the yard. All the zombies were dropping like flies as the mist hit them. He slammed the door and barricaded it again with the couch.

                “They are saying it’s over.” Seth reported standing in front of the TV. The rest of the family joined him.

                “As the nation has been plagued by this unusual virus, the CDC in Atlanta has be working around the clock to find the cure. And that time and effort has paid off. I seems that ordinary house hold vinegar stopped the virus in it’s tracks and the infected has ceased to live. The living it now safe. As military helicopters should be seen passing over your city spraying the infected with gallons of vinegar.”

                “Well, what do you know.” Aaron smiled. “We survived the Zombie Apocalypse.”