Emergent

Emergent

By

Robert P. Sullivan

© 2017 Robert Patrick Sullivan

Chapter 1

I never thought of myself as a hero… Hell, I still don’t. So when I heard the police had quarantined off a city block due to the suspicion of an outbreak in our town, I didn’t think too much of it. I mean how was I supposed to know that it was going to be the end of the world? It all just seemed like something that was going to blow over.

It was still the first days of the outbreak, and everyone was jumping at shadows… I guess they were right in hindsight. I was living in my first place. It was small for a studio-apartment, and a shit hole at that. But still, I was happy to be there, living on my own for the first time in my life. I remember I was taking out the trash when I first saw one of those… things. It was early in the evening, but still dark. I moseyed out my front door and had to shut it behind me with my foot because the garbage bag was so overfilled. I wasn’t in any kind of a hurry when I walked around the corner of the complex and into the alleyway.

At the end of the dark little street, I could see someone walking towards me. I thought he was drunk by the way that he was stumbling. I lived right next to a bar so shit like that wasn’t uncommon in my neighborhood, and as a result I didn’t pay any mind. Fighting to get the dumpster open when both hands are just trying to keep the garbage from spilling is always a trick, which is why I was taking so long to get it in there. I managed to get the lid of the dumpster open only to have the bag snag on something and tear wide open spilling half of it on the ground. I was so disappointed at the mess I wasn’t even paying attention to the dark figure approaching me.

I was hunched over trying to pick up the pile of trash when I peeked up to see the face of the advancing zombie for the first time. Its face had just come into the light which peered through the neighbor’s fence slats. I held my gaze on it trying to get a clear picture when it finally passed into the light of the alley. There was blood running down from its torn up mouth, it looked as if it had been mashing its face into what… or, I guess who it was eating, so hard that it had accidentally taken a few bites of its own lips. When my brain finally caught on to what was happening I felt my chest tense. I stood up from the pile of garbage and took a step backward. I was breathing heavily, and my heart was racing. It was panic, and that’s never a good reaction in a life and death situation. I realized it and started asking myself What are you doing standing there? I was trembling as it continued to shuffle towards me. Run… the voice inside called out, but I was still frozen. Run! It was only six feet away when I finally took another step back.

That’s when things went bad. I stumbled on a piece of garbage that had spilled out from the bag and fell backward on my ass. It would have been embarrassing had it not nearly killed me. The zombie lunged… or maybe I should say fell on me. It pinned me to the ground with its weight. I was just a skinny 18 year old at the time, hardly a man at all, and the monster bearing down on me could have been twice my weight. I grabbed its throat with both hands to keep it from biting. But that didn’t stop it from trying. It kept snapping its teeth at me and clawing at me with its hands. Blood was dripping from the torn lip and painting my face red.

I struggled with it for nearly half a minute before my muscles were burning. I desperately started to look around for something, anything that could help. And that’s when I caught a glimpse of what had tripped me, it was a plastic bottle. I gave as strong a shove as I could muster, and reached for the bottle in desperation. I just barely grabbed it from the back end, when the zombie pushed back. I jammed the bottle straight down its throat, which was surprisingly effective at neutralizing a zombie’s mouth. It kept biting down on the bottle making a crinkling plastic noise, but it couldn’t bite through it, which had given me the opportunity to force us to roll over. With me on top, I started to punch it in the side of the head. After about five or six I got the impression that it didn’t care, as it just kept on trying to grab at me. So instead of fighting it, I ripped myself from its clutches and clamored to my feet.

I ran this time, as fast as I could back to my apartment. I didn’t even try to look back. I was just so focused on getting inside. I slammed the door behind me with enough force to shake and rattled the windows, and I collapsed with my back to it. I was gasping for air, trying to calm down and collect myself. I rubbed my face with my hands and stared down at the blood I had just wiped off. My hand was shaking from the adrenaline. I reeled my head back against the door and aimlessly cast my eyes at the ceiling. I shut them and tried to regain my composure. It took a moment before I could think clearly enough to decide what to do. As far as I was concerned, I was just attacked by a strange man who was injured, we were still in denial at those times. I pulled my phone from my pocket and called the cops.

The phone rang, for longer than I would have liked it to, but someone eventually answered. 911 what’s your emergency?

Someone… just attacked me outside my apartment. I made it inside, but… something isn’t right with the guy who grabbed me.

Sir are you ok? There was urgency in her voice, but I could tell there was some underlying fear shaking her just a little.

Yeah, I think. Listen though the man who grabbed me, he was injured.

How was he injured sir?

He was… I mean… Look half his face was torn off! The phone fell silent. I asked Hello?

I’m here, stay on the line sir. It took a few more seconds for her to get back to me and ask for my information. I told her who I was and where I lived. She was adamant about me staying inside, and not answering the door for anyone but the officer they were sending out. I agreed wholeheartedly and hung up the phone.

The waiting was miserable. I took the few minutes I had to go into the kitchen and wash my face and hands clean of the blood. I noticed that my shirt had been stained from the attack when I could see the police cruiser pull up through my kitchen window. The officer who got out was about six feet tall with black hair. He seemed very nervous about what was going on. He kept his hand on his gun ready to use it at a moment’s notice. He walked over to the side of the apartment where I had been attacked and pulled out his flashlight. I could see him shining it, looking for anything that could be a threat. When he was satisfied that whatever had done this was gone he seemed to relax a bit. He took his hand off his gun and finally came to knock on my door.

I answered, and when he saw the blood on my shirt he stepped back. Sir, you haven’t been bitten have you? He wouldn’t look me in the eyes. He was too focused on the blood stained shirt I was wearing.

I don’t think so. I responded, but I still didn’t really understand the weight of the situation. I took a small step forward.

Sir! He had become more forceful in his words, and it was obvious he didn’t appreciate my actions. He reached for the grip of his gun. Have you been bitten?

I stopped for a second to give a careful response. No, I wasn’t bitten. The man who attacked me tried to bite me, but this blood- I pinched at the soaked collar of my shirt before I continued was his… His face was really shredded.

You’re sure? He was still hesitant.

Yes, I shoved a bottle in his mouth and got away. His tension melted slowly, and he pulled his hand off his gun. He took a deep breath. Why… does it matter?

I think that’s a question best answered at the station. It’s Mark right? Mark Williams? I nodded in agreement. I have orders to bring you in.

Why I didn’t do anything?

It’s not about… He was frustrated. Look, you didn’t do anything wrong, we’re just getting a lot of reports… Just come with me please.

Alright, I guess that’s ok. I grabbed my keys and wallet off the end table and locked the door as we left.

He opened the back of the squad car and said, Get in.

Do I have to get in the back?

The officer rolled his eyes and spoke under his breath. Why do people always ask that? It was then that I started to notice his unprofessionalism. It’s not that he struck me as someone who was impersonating an officer, it was more that he seemed distressed. He returned his voice to normal before continuing. Yes, don’t worry about it. It’s just standard procedure. I got in the car and he closed the door behind me. After he walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat we drove off.

Chapter 2

The seat was horribly uncomfortable, and the radio was chattering the whole time we were driving, it was constant police codes and addresses, though I didn’t really pay it much mind, that is until it said something I understood. Officer down!

Shit! The cop said not taking his eyes from the road. That’s the fourth one tonight.

I looked at his face in the rear view mirror, he was on the edge of panic but didn’t want to show it. What’s going on?

It’s nothing we can’t handle. I could hear the uncertainty in his words, but it was still comforting to hear them, whether or not he believed they were true. I looked out the side window and tried to determine how long it was going to be till we got to the police station. We were about half way there.

I tried to ease the situation. So, a police officer huh?

His focus was elsewhere. What?

I was just asking, what it’s like to be a cop? He glanced up at me in the mirror, then back to the road.

Yeah, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

I adjusted my position in an incredibly ineffective attempt to get comfortable. What’s that supposed to mean?

Well… He was trying to find the right words to answer. I guess you sign on thinking about the honor and justice of it. But when reality sets in it’s just another job, and sometimes a dangerous one at that.

I thought a lot of people become cops to try and serve the community?

That’s a better reason than why I signed up- I felt the car slowing down. Hold on. He was looking out the front window in an attempt to make out the figures before him. He pulled the car over and flicked on the lights. I’ll be right back. He opened the door and stepped outside. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, his words were muffled, but I did notice him reaching for his gun again. I could only see flickers of what was going on in front of the car. The lights flashed over a few hunched figures in the dark. I squinted to try and make out the scene. I couldn’t get a good view of it till the officer pulled out his flashlight and shined it on the small group of people.

I saw blood, entrails, and body parts strewn across the ground in a mess. Two men and a woman were devouring what I could only assume was once a person. I saw the officer rear back in disgust, and that’s when they started to get up. He pulled his gun from its holster and pointed it at the people coming toward him. He waved it between them as they advanced, shouting louder as they got closer. He fired at the first one, planting a round right in its chest. Then a second shot, and a third. I could barely make out his words when he said What the fuck? He started to retreat towards the car never taking his eyes off his assailants. He aimed again, this time putting one in its head. It fell to the ground by the time he made it back to the car door. He aimed one more time, but nothing happened. He dropped the flashlight and tried to mess with his gun. After a few seconds passed he looked up at his opponents. Instead of firing again he opened the door and got back in the car slamming it behind him. Of all the times to fuckin’ stovepipe!

He threw the car in gear and smashed on the gas pedal hard enough that I could hear it hit the floorboard. The tires screeched violently as the car lurched forward running into the two zombies that were in front of the car. The woman smashed into the glass hard enough to make a thunk noise, while the man went under the tires. I could hear him squish and fumble around under the car. As we picked up speed he dislodged himself from the under carriage, but the woman was clawing at the window, till we reached the intersection which split off in a ‘T’ to the left and right. The officer slammed on the breaks sending the woman flying. The top half of her hit a window, while the bottom smashed into the brick wall that the window was mounted in. Her legs flipped up after the impact, causing her to tumble inside.

We both sat there waiting for a second, wide eyed, just to make sure she was down. She stumbled back into the light, with large