until they catch site of prey.”
Turning
back around, they saw Rachael sitting on one of the boxes in the center of the
room, looking exhausted. Hank and Tom pulled a couple of their own boxes up
next to her, forming a circle. It was like a mini-campfire from hell…with
no fire.
“Let’s
get some food and liquids in us.” Tom said.
After
a few minutes of digging blindly through the contents of their day packs, they
had what amounted to a small picnic. They were all glad to be eating MREs in
place of the various protein bars they had been snacking on throughout the
day. Dehydration being one of Tom’s bigger worries, he made sure they all
drank through a couple of the water pouches.
Passing
around all the wet wipes they could gather from their bags, the three of them
wiped off as much of the grunge and blood as they could.
“There
is going to be more and more of them all the time. I’m not sure how long it
takes, but all those dead in the cities are going to be coming back.” Tom
said, breaking the silence.
“Other
than the ones that had their brains blown to pieces.” Hank chimed in.
Tom
nodded his head in agreement. “The ones that come back are much slower than
the demented ones, but based on the lack of hardly any living, non-demented
people, I think the numbers may be staggering and growing.”
The
group sat in silence, all of them contemplating the full scope of what was
going on. Unsettling thoughts filled their minds. Thoughts of cities void of
the living, filled with death, hatred, and chaos. If the infection has spread
across the world, those with flu shots would have already lost any
self-control, becoming demented, single minded killers. This would be nearly
half the world’s population, and with the huge push to get vaccinated over the
last couple years, numbers could be significantly higher.
How
many would have been killed in the initial hours of the onslaught? Millions
Tom was sure. Then there were all those that came back, risen. The numbers
surely in the hundreds of millions.
Tom
could not get his mind off of his family. He pictured himself arriving home
only to find his wife and son stumbling around the house, raised from the dead,
hungry for something, hatred filling their eyes. Could he end it for them?
For him? His heart pounding, the thoughts continued to swirl in his head,
trying to consume him.
Rachael
broke the silence with sobs as she began crying.
Tom
turned to her “Hey…were gonna be all right.”
Hank
stood and walked over to the windows, knowing that comforting people was not
his thing...what was there to say anyways. He knew their future was bleak.
Nearly all military personnel would have received a host of vaccinations,
including flu shots if that was the trigger. Power, food, gas…all limited.
Rachael
almost laughed between tears and then shouted, “All right? Everyone’s dead,
were holed up in this shit hole with nowhere to go. You call that all right?”
Tom
really wished Kelly was here, she always knew the right things to say. Knowing
their situation was dire, and unsure of any real hope himself, he simply rested his
hand on her back, trying to comfort her. She curled into his arm, sobbing into
his shoulder. Amazed she had held it together this long, he embraced her and
said, “Just let it out…its okay.”
Hank
stepped over. “Why don’t we lie down, get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”
Nodding,
Tom said, “Wake me in a few.”
Tom
lay listening to Rachael sob for a few minutes before both of them fell fast
asleep. Horribly disfigured faces, bloody teeth, and hordes of grotesque
reaching hands filled their dreams.
Tom
woke with a start, finding that even in the cool air he was drenched in sweat.
Rachael was cuddled up next to him, her arm draped over his chest. Hank was
kneeling down beside him, his face right next to Tom's.
Still
a bit groggy, but glad to be out of his nightmares, Tom stammered, “My turn?”
“Yeah,
been quiet.
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