My more ambitious short story. (Fin)

[Durandal!]

12:43 AM.

 

I'm still a stranger to this area. In fact I couldn't remember the name of the city we were currently in when we decided to cut our sightseeing visit of our new home state short. I could hear the white noise of traffic rushing by us as I helped him into the passenger seat of the beat up rust heap I called a car. The sidewalk was still wet from the rain we had gotten 3 hours prior to leaving the bar. It was the only reason we stopped in there in the first place. The smell of the place made me a bit nostalgic for home. But I was sure that would pass. All bars have the same smell. The same people. The same beer. The same guy wearing a flannel coat that will hit on the hostess for hours on end. Subtlety isn't a strong point for the kind of people that hang out in places like this. And this one was pretty tame compared to the kinds of places Mike would drag me to when we were in college.

 

Mike, a musician by trade, was the only reason I live here. We met in a buisness management class about seven years ago. Good friends ever since. And when he offered me a place in his new apartment when he moved to do studio work with some band, I couldn't resist. My old hometown was too busy for a guy like me. Almost thirty, I had no reason to stay there anymore. But it's a weird feeling of upheaval to travel halfway across the country to start a new life. Especially with no large motive.

 

But I couldn't complain. We had just moved into the second story of a relatively rural area. About 45 minutes out of a major city. The city we were supposed to be looking at when the weather turned to shit. We stopped into some bar, the name of it escapes me. And here we are now. I had a good buzz going. Mike was completely hammered. "Never go half, man." That was his motto. Then again he was in no condition to talk right now. He just collapsed into the passenger seat, and closed his eyes again and went into his own little world.

 

1:34 AM.

 

Sitting in the drivers seat, even when I'm even a little drunk, is a good reason to keep myself alert. I do my best driving when I'm lightly under the influence. It keeps me on my toes. Alert.

 

The radio faded in and out. The hiss and scratch in between clear signal was enough to keep me awake while I drove down one of the last stretches of straight, almost abandoned road. Fields on either side. Mountains in the distance behind that. And I was keeping a good 45 mile per hour speed. Mike slept the whole way. The potholes and gravel strewn across the road didn't phase the guy. Occasionally he'd groan and scratch his goatee. But he was out like a light. Something I was really looking forward to being in a few minutes.

 

Yes..

 

The thought of the warm down comforters on my new bed. In my new apartment. With my new life. It felt like something I wanted for that brief moment in time. My eyes fluttered. My hands loosened.

 

SNAP

 

They opened again to the sight of a fence clearing off a ditch on the side of the road. My eyes were more alive than ever as I slammed on the brakes. Mikes head slammed on the dashboard as the car hit an abrupt stop. The front end looked reasonably I am Grooted up.

 

I looked over to him. He seemed alright. Rubbing his forehead with that "You're a stupid shit, did you know that?" look on his face. I felt fine. And seeing as we were still ten miles from where we lived, there was no use in asking if he was feeling alright.

 

The door creaked as it always did when I staggered out of the car. Steam, maybe smoke was billowing out of the front end. The bumper and anything behind it was forced back a good 4 inches. Nothing too serious. The feeling was short lived when I looked down at the front tires. Both ripped open when we hit the ditch. And without a spare we weren't going anywhere.

 

2:03 AM.

 

I hated roads like this one. No houses, almost no traffic, and the occasional red barn that served as an oversized tool shed more than anything else.

 

It was a good half hour before any car came by. And I was lucky enough to flag it down before it took off into the small end of the straight road. The woman inside the station wagon looked nice enough. She told us to hop in and she'd give us a lift to our apartment or tow shop. Wherever we needed to go. But Mike looked like he was in no mood to leave the car. He sat there swearing at the floor mats for a good 2 minutes before I told her to just send a tow truck our way. She was happy to help us out, but truth be told, I didn't really feel like getting into a strange woman's car in a place that was still a blur to me.

 

She took off and left us a large styrofoam cup of coffee that she must have bought somewhere on the way here. It tasted like shit, But I needed something more than alcohol and peanuts in my system. By then Mike had calmed down enough to talk to. He almost sounded sober when he called be back over to the car. He said something about how we shouldn't rely on some truck stop woman getting us a tow. He swore a bit more. Then in a huff sat back in his seat.

 

He wasn't a very good conversationalist when hammered.

 

3:12 AM

 

Very nice of this woman to put us on her list of priorities. The truck should have been there to help us 45 minutes ago. I just sat on the hood of the car and looked at the bright full moon that casted a blue glow over the wheat fields on either side of us. Anger wasn't really my top emotion at the time. I just wanted to be out of there. It felt like an eternity had passed. Just the sound of the summer wind going through the trees in the distance. Then I got an abrupt tap on the shoulder. I leaned back only to see Mike with a nervous look about him. He looked concerned. I looked confused. The light of the moon and his cigarette were enough to display that. He looked at me and pointed into the field in front of us. "Something is out there," he told me.

 

Sure enough there it was. A human figure staggering through the wheat. Man by the look of it. About 70 feet away.

 

The guy looked hurt. He was just staggering towards us. Mike was as confused as I was at the time.

 

We both silently agreed that there was no way we could turn an injured man away. Even with the condition we were in. And who knows? Maybe he lived in the area. It'd be good to have one person we could be in some contact with. So we called out.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hello?"

 

"Are you hurt, man?"

 

We didn't get an answer. Not even a groan out of him. He was about 30 feet off when Mike got out of the car and ran over to him. I sat there and wondered how someone that drunk could sober up so quickly. The thought had no time to stew in my head before I heard a scream. Not from the figure. From mike. He was screaming his head off.

 

"Mike? Are you alright man?"

 

He just kept screaming as the figure, in a slow lumbering tackle, got him to the ground.

 

I ran over as quick as I could. Mike was bleeding. His hand was visibly smaller. And this man was almost laying on top of him. His teeth snapping. The sound of air moving through his throat as he did sounded like someone drowning. On impulse I picked up one of the broken metal fence posts and started wailing on the man's back. The more I did it, the less it seemed to matter. It was like he was unaware that I was even standing there. Mike just kept screaming and fighting as I ran back to the car. Popped the trunk with the kind of speed you normally see in the movies, and got a crow bar out from underneath an old tarp. I sped back to them as quickly as I could, and with one swift motion, cracked the man in the back of the head as hard as I could. It didn't seem to take much effort to kill him. His body went lifeless. Brain and grey matter were everywhere. It was sickeningly easy to break through the guy's skull. Mike forced him off and crouched on the ground clutching his hand.

 

I asked him if he was hurt. He snapped back at me

 

"What the I am Groot do you think. Crazy f****r bit my fingers off."

 

He sat there whimpering, almost crying for minutes until I saw headlights coming in the opposite direction. My head was still spinning. I was too afraid to try and flag it down.

 

Did I just murder someone?

 

The thought of that didn't seem to matter much. My heart racing too much to try and think about the severity of what I had just done. My best friend was bleeding buckets, and we weren't going anywhere without help. But I couldn't bring myself to call this car to the side of the road.

 

The headlights got brighter. And as I stood there expecting to see what could have possibly been our only way out of this situation go past us, the orange glow of a blinker started tapping on and off as, what I could now tell was a large truck, pulled up behind our junk heap of a car. I had no idea what to do. On impulse I ran over. I'd rather have myself arrested than forsake my only friend in this new place. He was already crying at this point. Out in the field. Muttering to himself about how they could re-attach them. He was a musician after all. That was his livelihood. I didn't want to look back at him. The sound of it was enough.

 

Much to my surprise, the side of the truck said "O'Brian Towing." She actually called them. 2 f****** hours late. But they were actually here.

 

5:02 AM

 

The fields were glowing red and blue when 3 police cars came by. The sky was visibly brighter as the moon scanned over the mountains in the horizon. The tow truck was told to go back the way it came.

 

Mike was already in the one ambulance that came to the scene. I just sat on the back end of the far left cruiser with a wool blanket draped over me. They gave me something to calm my nerves, hot cocoa maybe. It tasted like thick hot water to me. It was a warm night and I just sat there shivering for 20 minutes before a burly officer walked over to me. He didn't look at me like I was a murderer. Maybe just a formality. The situation had time to sink in by then. I felt every bit of it. Maybe over-thinking it all. I didn't care.

 

What his exact words were are still a blur. I do remember telling him what had happened. Detail by detail. He did ask if I had been drinking, But I gave him a resounding "No."

 

He seemed to believe me. He didn't even seem all that concerned. He said the man was probably homeless. Drunk. Then he told me to stay put, and then walked away. My head was running too fast to think about why. I just wanted to be out of there. I looked at the road as the ambulance drove off into the distance. The pavement. The gravel. I felt sick.

 

Why the hell was a guy like me in a position like this? It made no f****** sense. Me. A good guy. Hard working. Sitting on the side of the road while five cops stood around the lifeless body of a guy I piped to death. It was enough to laugh at. My friend missing pieces of left hand, bloody crowbar out in the field next to the corpse. It was ridiculous.

 

The road came back into focus and I slowly came back to reality when I heard the officer on the radio attached to his shoulder. I looked over at him. He was pale as all hell.

 

I could barely make out what he was saying. "Yes." "Yes." "Look i'm as confused as you are about all this, but it's reason enough to get an expert out here. If this is a solanum related incident, then I don't think we should take any chances. "

 

"No."

 

"Yes."

 

"Look, Just get someone the hell down here. Now."

 

He sounded way too concerned to be the same man who had just talked to me with a smile on his face.

 

I looked back down at the pavement.

[Silas]

I'm not sure exactly what I was supposed to draw from that story, but it was well focused and had a good plot. It was so eriee, it almost seemed real. Good job.

[Durandal!]

I didn't want to mention it directly in story, but in the Ultimate Zombie Survival Guide, Solanum is the virus that makes people re-animate as zombies.

 

Myths and Realities

This chapter lays down the specific ground rules that are referenced repeatedly in the book. The most important of these describes Solanum, the fictional virus that creates zombies, along with how it is spread, how to treat the infected, and why the zombie infection does not spread to non-human creatures.

[Guest]

((Silas))

 

You see, I'm one of those people who don't know anything about stuff like that.

 

Good story anyway.

[Durandal!]

Thanks brosef.

 

I found this explanation online.

 

Solanum

 

The guide attributes the zombie outbreaks described to the virus "Solanum" (not to be confused with the plant genus). The virus is said to be neither waterborne or airborne; the only way to become infected is through direct fluidic contact, in which context the virus is 100% communicable, with a 100% mortality rate. Although the virus is most commonly transmitted through zombie bites, it is also possible to be infected through mucosal contact with the blood or entrails of an infected individual. The guide also states that it is theoretically possible to be infected through sexual contact with a zombie, but that there are as yet no records of any such incident.

[Guest]

That makes more sense. Thanks for that.

[Amidala Skywalker]

Ah...a zombie story. Overall nice work, although not my style. Watch your tenses...they got mixed up abit.

 

I'm going to recommend this to someone.

[Anakin T Skywalker]

Okay, the story was well-written, even though not the type of plot I usually go for. But the way you posted it all in a quote made me not read it at least 10 times before I finally did! The letters were all small, and it just looked intimidating. And there was no real reason to quote it that way, was there?