Resident Evil: Epidemic - 5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

::Awakening::

There’s nothing like the sound of shattering glass to awaken you out of a deep sleep. I bolted upright, my heart beating against my throat. It was loud, sounded like it was one of our larger windows. Maybe the picture window in the front room. Did my mom accidently break it while she was cleaning?

I glanced at the clock. 5:30 in the morning. My mom might be a bit of a neat freak, but even she doesn’t clean this early. I got out of bed, put on a pair of pajama pants, and crept to the door as quietly as possible. Placing my ear against the door, I heard nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through the now broken window.

I heard my mom rush down the stairs.

“Kieran, what the hell are you doing? You’ve broken the-” she said. I couldn’t see, obviously, but I imagine she cut herself off when she realized it wasn’t me down there.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” she said in a shaken voice. I looked around my room frantically, looking for anything I could use as a weapon. Since I didn’t have a machine gun, I chose the closest thing I had. My old baseball bat.

I opened the door and stepped out in the hall. I was scared out of my mind. I wanted to charge down the stairs, but my body wouldn’t let me. The human brain has a “fight or flight” response to dangerous situations. Mine must be broken, because its permanently set on “flight”. I felt so helpless, like one of those really annoying girls in the horror movies. You know, the ones that die because they freeze in terror. I fought my terrified brain, and started taking steps toward the stairs, inches at a time.

The first thing I noticed was the smell, like week old milk. I gagged on it, it was disgusting. It lingered in the air like a festering flatulence, and made me want to throw up. Imagine if a skunk laid eggs. Rotten ones. Then ate them, and threw them back up.

I heard a strangled moan, a man’s voice it sounded like. Almost sounded like a bad rendition of what a child might think a ghost sounded like.

“Are you alright? Do you need help?” I heard my mom say to whoever was down there.

I tiptoed toward the stairs, feeling extremely vulnerable. I was dressed only in a pair of pants, and my bare skinny torso and arms felt terribly inadequate. I winced in pain as I stepped on a screw that was lying in the carpet. I hopped for a second, checked my bare sole, and was relieved to find it hadn’t broken the skin.

The man’s moaning became louder, more frantic, and had a slight edge to it, almost as if he were growling.

“What are you…get AWAY from me!” she yelled, then screamed in pain. I didn’t think, my mind finally allowing my body to act. I bolted down the stairs, turned into the hall, then entered the front room. What I found shocked me to the core. I found the source of the terrible odor.

There was a man, dressed in tattered and bloody clothes, with his teeth in my mom’s forearm. Blood was pouring out from it, making a nasty dark red pool on the hardwood floor.

“MOM!” I screamed. The man looked up at me. Blood poured out of his mouth, down his chin and all over his shirt. It looked as if it had once been a blue button down shirt, the type an office worker would wear. He had large pieces of glass sticking out of his torso, probably from breaking the window. He didn’t look as if he should be standing. His voice gurgled, as if he were trying to make sounds while the blood was pouring down his throat.

His eyes…were terrifying. They were clouded over, a murky yellowish white color, giving the appearance of having no irises at all. The veins in his eyes were standing out, looking as if they were ready to burst. The eyelids and the skin around were flaky, looking a pale green color. Veins were standing out all over his face, giving the impression that he had been sick for some time. He looked like a corpse. The walking dead. But that’s impossible, isn’t it?

He let go of my mom’s arm, her falling to the floor clutching her wound. He shuffled toward me, stumbling slightly, reminding me of the drunk I’d seen with Lucas in the park. He reached out his grimy hands, outstretched fingers pointing towards me, nails broken and bloody. He shuffled towards me at a faster pace, as if it were urgently in need of something I had to offer him. I wasn’t going to give him what he wanted.

I lifted the bat. “Stay back!” I called to him. He acted as if he hadn't heard me. “I’m warning you!”

He didn’t so much as waver in his resolve. I swung the bat, connecting solidly with his arm, just above his left elbow. He stumbled from the force of my swing, but kept moving forward. A look of pain didn’t even register, as if this thing felt no pain at all!

I wound up the bat again. I didn’t even hesitate this time, swinging the bat with all my might in a downward swing and connecting with the top of the man’s skull. There was a sickening wet crunch as the skull gave in, dark, jello-like blood oozed out. It appeared to be as black as oil. The man twitched, and fell to the ground. Dead.

My mom was whimpering in pain where she fell. She was still holding onto her arm, blood seeping out from under where her other hand was keeping pressure. I rushed to her side.

“We need to wrap this up,” I said to her. I looked away, the sight of blood combined with the noxious smell coming from the man was making my head spin. “I’ll be right back with the First-Aid Kit.”

I rushed into the kitchen and started pulling open the drawers, searching frantically. Why is it the only time you can’t find the damn thing is when you need it? Finally, as I searched the drawer near the trash can, I found it. A large, clear box, about the size and shape of a child’s lunch box, with the words “First Aid” on the front of it.

I rushed back over to my mom’s side, opened the box, and pulled out some gauze pads and a roll bandage. I had her apply pressure to the bite, and I wrapped the pads tightly in place with the bandage. I looked into her eyes, which had a panicked look to them.

“Mom, are you feeling all right? Any dizziness or nausea? Feeling nauseous??” she shook her head yes, and leaned over to the side and threw up. my stomach turned again when I saw it.

I fought my gag reflex down, battling it into submission. When I recovered, I looked back over to her.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” I said.

“…That man…” she said, with a terrified awe in her voice.

“Don’t think about him for now,” I said. “Stay focused! We need to get moving, where are your car keys?” I asked.

“…You…killed him…saved me…” she mumbled. I gently shook her shoulder, and her eyes met mine.

“Keys?” I asked again.

“Coat pocket,” she said shakily. “But Kieran, you don’t have a license.”

“Don’t really have much choice,” I said, and she nodded. I stood up, and slid on some blood, nearly falling on my ass. I steadied myself, and rushed toward the kitchen, as carefully as possible, to where her coat was hanging on a chair. I grabbed her keys and returned to the front room. I helped her up, and with her arm around my shoulder we went toward the door. Remembering I was barefoot, I grabbed the closest pair of shoes and put them on. I didn’t care that they were pink bunny slippers.

We got out to the porch, I set the bat down and turned to lock up the door. I was about to turn the key when I glanced at the front room’s huge shattered window. I thought, “Fuck it,” and left it unlocked. I turned around and saw my mom, with wide, terrified eyes and a hand over her mouth. I followed her gaze.

The neighbors’ house across the street was on fire, flames pouring out of the second story windows. It looked as if the fire had been burning for quite some time. Why hadn’t anyone called the fire department?

As if in answer to my silent question, I found the answer. A group of the stumbling things were heading our direction. There must have been fifteen of them. They all had their arms outstretched, as if that let them reach us any faster. I picked the bat back up from where I had set it by the door, and gripped it tightly. I heard a crash from in front of me, at the burning house, and was shocked at what I saw. A woman had fallen out of the second floor window. She picked herself up somewhat clumsily, and started walking in our direction. What was shocking about this, was the fact that she was on fire. Her clothes were blazing nearly as much as the house was, her arms had flames all over them. From this distance I could literally see her skin bubbling. But she didn’t even seem to feel it. Didn’t so much as flinch.

“What the hell is going on?” I wondered aloud. It was as if I had woke up and stumbled onto the set of a Romero movie. Zombies aren’t real! It feels so ridiculous even thinking that. That’s like seriously believing in unicorns and leprechauns. It defies all logic. But as I saw the burning woman stumbling ever closer, I realized all logic had been thrown out the window.

I grabbed my mom’s hand and rushed toward the car. It was an older blue sedan, and it sometimes gave her problems. I just hoped the damned thing would start. We reached the car, and after getting her buckled in, I turned the key, and after breathing a sigh of relief when it started, we took off. After I turned out of the neighborhood and onto the main road, I saw that things were even worse than I feared. Chaos. That’s the only description that even comes close to identifying it. There weren’t many people around, but it looked like there had been. There were wrecked cars all over the street, trash and debris everywhere. I turned, and started heading downtown toward the hospital.

I looked over at my mom, saw her getting pale. It looked like she had lost a lot of blood. I was worried about her. As much as we don’t get along much lately, I still love her. I don’t know what I’d do without her. It’s always just been her and I, ever since dad left. And as much as I miss how close we used to be, I knew she still loves me.

“KIERAN!” she screamed, startling me out of my thoughts. She was pointing forward, at the road, where I wasn’t looking. The road is a good thing to look at every once in a while when you’re driving.

I looked forward, and slammed on the brakes. The car skidded to a halt not more than ten feet from a large group of zombies. There must have been a hundred of them! They were shuffling down the street, as if marching in the world’s first drunk parade. They were facing away from the car, but a few turned when they heard us. In the distance, I could see some red and blue flashing lights. Looks like not all the police are gone.

I put the car in reverse, and gunned the gas. It stalled.

“FUCK!” I screamed in frustration. I turned the key off and tried to start it again. Nothing. I tried again, with the same result. The zombies that had turned toward us were now about five feet from the car, reaching their putrid hands toward us. I tried the ignition again, and again it wouldn’t start.

“DAMNIT! START!” I yelled at the car. When it still wouldn’t start, I started pounding my fist on the steering wheel. One of the things had reached the car, slapping its bloody hand on the windshield. I could hear it moaning in hunger, and got a chill down my spine. I suddenly had the mental image of sardines in a can.

More of them reached the car, pounding to try to gain entrance. I struggled with the damned key, wishing, hoping, praying that it would start. They were pounding harder, as if more determined to get their prize. The warm gooey center. I turned the key to the off position, and said a silent prayer for the car to start. Finally it started, just as one of them cracked the windshield.

I sped off down the street, in reverse, watching the zombies as we went. No emotion whatsoever showed on their faces. One of them had been in mid swing when we started moving, and fell over onto the pavement. I stopped, and in a few awkward maneuvers, managed to turn the car around.

I suddenly realized getting to the hospital was out of the question. Besides, if the hospital was even functioning, it would be so incredibly swamped with people we’d never get in. I tried my hardest not to panic, but I could feel its grip tightening around me. She was going to die if we didn’t get medical attention.

A thought hit me suddenly. Lucas’ dad was a doctor! Sure, he was a psychiatrist, but he still would have a better idea of what to do than I would. At least he’s been to medical school. I turned the car back toward where we came from. I looked over at my mom, and she looked even more pale than before.

“Hold on Mom, my friend Lucas’ dad is a doctor, he’ll help you,” I said reassuringly. She mumbled something quietly in response.

I raced down the street, passing the occasional wandering zombie. When I turned onto Lucas’ street, things looked nearly as bad as they did on my street. At least there were no burning neighbors, though. I pulled into the driveway, and killed the engine. I hopped out and rushed over to her side of the car. I opened the door and had to half drag her out and toward the front door. When we got there, I started pounding on the door like a madman.

Mr. Thomas opened the door, and looked at me with a confused look.

“Kieran? It’s six in the morning! And why aren’t you dressed?” he asked. I suddenly remembered I was half naked, but didn’t care all that much. Had bigger problems at the moment. He looked over and saw my mom, and gasped.

“Oh my god, why didn’t you take her to the hospital?” he asked.

“The road was blocked. It’s like total chaos out here!” I explained. He helped me take her inside and laid her down on the couch. He left the room, and returned a minute later with a fairly large First-Aid kit.

“What do you mean it’s chaos out there?” he asked as he started checking out my mom’s wound.

“Just about everyone in town is dead! The streets are overrun with zombies!” I said, with an edge of panic in my voice. He looked at me incredulously.

“Zombies Kieran? Seriously, are you alright? Have you hit your head?” he asked with genuine concern.

“I know how it sounds, but it’s true! Everyone’s…dead! The only way I can describe them is zombie,” I said.

He looked into my eyes. “You’re serious?” I nodded. “Well, the stress of the situation must be getting to you. Sometimes stress can make you believe things that aren’t true.”

“I’m not crazy,” I mumbled, a little angry at not being believed.

Just then, Lucas walked into the room, looking as if he'd just woken up. Even with all of the craziness going on, I had to admire how cute he is. His pajamas were Sponge Bob pajama pants, with an honest-to-god pink "Hello Kitty" T-shirt.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Kieran's mom has been injured, and needs medical attention. We're taking her to the hospital," Lucas' dad said.

"Damn it! Haven't you been listening to me? The whole fucking city is in chaos! Look!" with that, I strode over to the TV, and turned it on. None of the stations worked. There was static on most screens, a test pattern on a few. I'd been hoping there'd be a news story, but this was just plain weird.

"Cable must be out," Lucas' dad said. Frustrated, I moved to the window facing the back yard. There was a zombie in the neighbors yard, half of its face torn off. It's cloudy yellowish eyes could clearly be seen.

"Come and look at this," I said. Lucas' dad gave a frustrated sigh, and came over to the window. He gasped at the creature in his neighbors yard, who bent down, picked up an injured bird, and took a huge bite out of it.

He covered his mouth with his hand. "Impossible...just impossible!"

"Umm...Kieran?" Lucas said from behind us in the doorway.

I turned, and found Lucas staring wide-eyed at my mom, who was now standing on her own facing him. I reached out and touched her shoulder.

"Mom? Are you feeling any better?" She started to turn toward me.

I screamed in terror at the cloudy yellowish white eyes of the zombie who had once been my mother.