Roads Less Traveled

Roads Less Traveled: The Plan

C. Dulaney

Published by Permuted Press.

Copyright 2011 C. Dulaney.

www.PermutedPress.com

Cover art by Christian Dovel.

Part One

Down the Road

Chapter One

October 1
^st

“Where have you been? Are you okay?” It was obvious from his shaky and high-pitched greeting that he was somewhat annoyed with me.

“Well I’m home now and I answered didn’t I? I must be okay then.” I admit, I was gruff and sarcastic in replying, but it was indicative of my day so far. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. It’s crazy here, people running in the streets when they should be staying indoors. The police have been driving around all morning, telling people to stay inside and lock their doors and windows, but do they listen? No.”

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “Did you do as I told you?”

“Yes, I’m secure and waiting for Jake to call. Got enough food and water for three days, just like you told me.” His voice was starting to calm, my questions leading him and creating at least the illusion of confidence.

“Don’t worry about what other people are doing. Keep your door shut and locked, and don’t open it for anybody unless you knew they were coming in advance. I mean it Ben, do you understand?” I was firm and almost sounded like a mother… or a drill sergeant. I wasn’t sure which.

He began rattling off the news, what the talking-heads were saying on TV, what he could find online, but I wasn’t listening. I was replaying the morning’s events in my head. I had woken up slightly late and had to rush, not even turning the TV on as I gulped down my coffee. In hindsight maybe I should have. I would’ve known what was going on and called in sick to work. The drive in was uneventful, as usual. I walked through security same as every day, though I do remember the guard’s eyes being so fixed on the small screen TV in his booth that he didn’t pay me any mind as I walked past him. Apparently he had been watching the breaking news I had missed all morning.

A couple of hours went by before I had any inkling something was wrong. I was in my office, pissing and moaning about the next project I had been assigned, when I heard what sounded like a scream come from down the hallway. I reacted in much the same way I assume anyone would react: I made face, took another sip of coffee, and went back to the computer screen. What finally got my ass moving was seeing my lab assistant stumbling and falling down the hallway in front of my office (the wall separating me from the hall consisted of several floor-to-ceiling windows), with the janitor hanging onto her back for dear life. That’s just weird even on an ordinary day. But this day the janitor was eating her neck, tearing and ripping at her flesh, blood gushing all over his face and down her back.

“Kasey, are you listening to me?” Ben asked.

“Uh, yeah I’m here. Sorry, mind was drifting.” I shook my head to clear it, rubbed my temple, and took a drink of water. “I need to gather my supplies and then I’ll contact you. Remember what I said - keep that door shut and locked… no matter what.”

“Please, please be careful.” His voice started picking up that whiny quality that made me want to jab a fork in his eye.

“I’ll be careful. I’ll call you again in one hour. If the phones are down by then, check for me online. Talk to you soon.” I hung up quickly, not giving him a chance to stall with more of his unnecessary pleading. My head had started to ache by this time, spreading down my neck like tendrils of flame. I looked at my dog, Gus, patted his head, and said, “C’mon boy, let’s get our stuff together.”

* * *

It had started roughly twenty-four hours before my first conversation with Ben. Seemed like a whole day would be adequate warning, right? Except the Average Joe didn’t have a clue anything was wrong until the problem started breaking down his doors or pulling him out of his car window. By then, it was too late.

I had already tried calling my parents, but got no answer. I tried getting in touch with my brother and sister, again no answer. I finally started calling all the numbers written on the side of the fridge, relatives and friends I only see or speak to on occasion. No one was picking up their phones. The only thing I could hope for was that they all got out of town quickly, however, the pessimist in me knew better. As quiet and fast as this thing had spread, they wouldn’t have had time to get out. They might be holed up somewhere, fending off the terror and chaos outside. Hey, for all I knew my family was together, most likely in my parents’ house, an old two-story brick from the early 1900’s. One could definitely board up that place and make it defendable. But why didn’t they answer the phone?

“Stop it, you’re going to freak yourself,” I muttered as I worked, moving briskly and deftly from one room to the next, gathering what I knew I would need for the days and weeks ahead. See, anyone with half a brain should know this by now: you must have a Zombie Plan. MUST. Sure it might sound crazy, but who’s alive right now and who’s not? As I was saying, my Z-Plan mostly consisted of me staying put and keeping my head down for as long as humanly possible. The reason my plan was so simple was because of where I lived. Location, location, location. And since finding a solid, defendable position was already checked off the list, I only needed to concern myself with supplies and fortification. I had been squirreling away supplies for months, and in some cases, years. It all depended on what was on sale at Wal-Mart at any given time. The fortifications, those would keep me busy until Ben arrived.

Speaking of Ben, his side of the plan was definitely more complicated and dangerous. After several rough drafts (there should have been only one draft, but Ben kept insisting I was treating him like a little bitch), we had finally settled on him hooking up with Jake and getting the hell out of town. Ben’s folks were non-existent and he’d been raised by his grandparents. They had both been dead for years, so he didn’t have any family to worry about if the time came to enact the Plan. Jake had also been raised by his grandparents (this was one reason he and Ben were such good friends, other than the fact they’d grown up together), and since Ben had been insistent that
he
come to
me
in the event of some sort of zombie-related disaster, he’d decided to make Jake’s house a stopping point in the trip. It was on the way, and apparently Jake had made it clear he wasn’t leaving his “Gran” once Ben informed him of his role in our Plan.

I was reluctant at first, since I clearly didn’t know anything about Jake other than what Ben had told me over the years. I knew the two had been best friends ever since they’d been shitting in their Pampers, and I knew Jake had his own Z-Plan (see, I wasn’t the only crazy one). He sounded like a rough and tough country boy who knew how to handle himself, so finally I relented, allowing Jake and Ben to consolidate my plan with theirs. The new Plan was basically the same as my original Plan. The only difference was instead of Ben coming to my house alone, he’d be coming with Jake and Jake’s grandparents. I could deal with that. Once we’d hammered out the basics of the new Z-Plan, we smoothed out the details and even added subsections to cover any and all possibilities (or at least the ones we could think of). But I digress.

So as I went from room to room gathering things, then out into the garage, my thoughts again strayed to my family. Then suddenly and unexpectedly to my best friend Mia. Damn, why hadn’t I thought to call her!? Dragging a tool box and half a dozen cartons of batteries out of the storage locker, I dumped it next to the car and ran inside.

I dialed her D.C. number, thinking it would ring until the machine picked up. I was totally surprised when she answered on the first ring.

“Kasey! Sweet Jesus, am I glad to hear from you! Are you alright?” Mia was obviously out of breath, but not shaken one bit. Totally in charge, that’s my Mia.

“Yes I’m okay, I can’t believe you answered! How did you get home?” I asked, half afraid she was breathless because some rampant deadheads had chased her into the house and in awe she was even able to make it back home. She was a middle school teacher right smack dab in the middle of Washington, D.C. As I said, this “thing” had just started and of
course
it began in the largest cities. Doesn’t everything Armageddon-ish?

“You won’t believe this, but Mom called early this morning, said don’t go to work. You know how she is, so I asked her why, and then regretted humoring her and egging her on. But all she said was turn on your TV. So I did, and saw what was happening. I mean, I
saw
what was happening here and in all the major cities, but I didn’t believe it. No way could I believe that. I immediately thought of you and your stupid plan, decided to call you as soon as I squared things with Mom… and that’s when she started screaming… they got in… two of them I think… and I…” Her voice hitched as the morning’s events began to sink in. You know that feeling, like something jagged suddenly twists in your guts, and all the air is completely sucked from your lungs.

I didn’t say anything for a long moment; there was nothing I
could
say. She was reliving her mother’s death, and by the sounds of it, a messy one at that. It was then I realized: when and how did I become so cold and detached? Is this what must be done to survive? Is this the natural course of things? This was my best friend, had been for almost 25 years, and here I was thinking how messy it would be cleaning her mother’s guts out of the living room carpet. I rubbed my face with my free hand and sighed, another realization suddenly dawning on me.

“Mia, was your sister home when you were talking to your mom?”

She cleared her throat and I think I heard her blow her nose before she answered. I took these both as good signs she was recovering her composure.

“Yes, she was home. But I don’t hold out much hope she’s still alive,” Mia answered, measuring her breath and words as she spoke.

I took a few more deep breaths and continued rubbing my face, hating to say what I was thinking at that moment. Especially now that Mia was calm and in control again. I really didn’t want to break that. But if I wasn’t brutally honest with her now, odds were good she wouldn’t survive much longer than her mother had.

“If your sister was home, then you’re right, she’s probably not alive. If there was… anything… left of your mother, she would have turned and gone after your sister. I suppose your sis could have fended her off?” I said this knowing full well her sister couldn’t find her own ass with both hands and a flashlight.

Mia laughed, but not the good-natured kind. This laugh was the sort you hear from either your mother-in-law or a convicted serial killer.

“Then it would be safe for both of us to assume my family is dead. Or undead. Whatever you want to call it, they’re gone now.” She paused for a moment, and I was sure I could hear moans in the background. I had just opened my mouth to ask about the situation there when she abruptly started talking again.

“I was busy boarding the windows with some scraps of lumber I had in the basement when you called. Those bastards are everywhere outside, and they’ve got the house surrounded. All I have as far as weapons go is that shotgun you gave me for Christmas and one box of shells.”

My stomach clenched; I knew her chances were bad, but she was still alive and that had to be enough for now. She also reminded me I hadn’t looked out my own windows since gathering my supplies. I checked my watch, saw it had only been half an hour or so since talking to Ben, then moved as quietly as I could down the hallway. I lowered my voice, just in case there were some nasties prowling around outside, and apprised Mia of my own situation.

“I’m going to walk around the first floor here and take a peek out the windows. Being out in the country, there may not be any here yet.” Gus followed as I walked, from the kitchen and down the hallway, through the living room and to the stairs leading to the second floor.

“All looks clear so far. I didn’t see anything moving close to the house. I’m going upstairs, take a look. I’ll be able to see farther from up there.”