Daniel's Story: Evacuation

*Possible trigger warnings: blood

*This story uses worldbuilding knowledge from Daniel's Story: The Turning and/or The Virus Within series.

* * * * * * *

"Go ahead," I told the teenager who had volunteered to help the counselor.

He glanced at my red eyes as his fear clouded the air. Even after two weeks as a zombie, it was still strange to be able to smell people's strong emotions. He had been excited, but his courage faltered when the four guards turned the safety off on their automatic weapons.

Having four soldiers shadow me was a bizarre precaution I had agreed to after that fateful accident. So far, they had only kept potential troublemakers at bay, but I appreciated the safeguard as I got a better handle on what triggered my temper.

The teenager ran a hand through his hair and muttered, "I have to be an idiot for attempting this."

"You're supposed to be insulting me, not yourself," I reminded him, giving him a half-smile.

He cringed like I'd just bared my teeth and snarled at him. The grey-haired woman patted his shoulder.

"Just walk over and brush your arm against his like you were too close in the hallway."

He winced but came forward, quite distracted by the guns aimed in my direction. I stood calmly but he barely bumped his arm against mine. At the counselor's urging, he grabbed onto my elbow, albeit so lightly there was no mistaking it for any kind of threat. My muscles tensed, and I made sure to stand still. Bumping arms was easy for me to brush off now, but the hand-on-my-skin still roused something deeper that detested contact.

After fifteen minutes where they didn't get a notable reaction out of me, the counselor thanked the teenager, who left. She and the guards took turns trying to find insults that I didn't just roll my eyes at.

Even though the zombie virus made a few hit harder, they really had to work to get any kind of reaction out of me after almost two solid weeks of this. The tolerance I'd built during so many years as a bank security guard was also helping. People could get rather heated when it came to money.

As we continued the self-control lesson, a set of footsteps ran down the hallway. I immediately recognized them as Nina's, but I'd never heard her run before.

"Wait," I told the counselor and guards as I darted to the door, moving swiftly enough that the world around me seemed to slow down slightly. I couldn't see her, so I called out, "Nina, is something wrong?"

"We were just told to start packing for an evacuation," she said as she rounded the corner. "Too many zombies are starting to show up. Half of the fences are just wooden pallets. They won't hold for more than a few days."

I stared at her. "Evacuate? To where? This is one of the last zombie-free places around."

Zombies were everywhere now. Over half of the world's population had turned into zombies over the last two months, and more had been bitten, killed, or eaten. Cities and most towns had been abandoned to the undead who wouldn't die even if their bodies were riddled with bullets.

Internet and cellphone towers had gone down over a week ago. There were a few radio towers with solar panels and old-school transmitters still running. Every place we heard from was building fences in rural locations and doing everything they could to keep the zombies from crowding around.

"That fortified airport is the nearest location," Nina replied as the guards clicked their safeties back on. "It's four hours away, but they're rural enough that they aren't being swarmed. They electrified the top of their fence and repelled at least one Nightstalker. They already said the town was welcome to join them."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "How many people are left here? And when are they planning to leave?"

Most residents had fled to remote areas when the outbreak started, and the majority of the army team escorting the scientists had developed the sneezing symptoms and turned. Despite hundreds of tests, the sneezing didn't seem contagious and didn't spread in the samples, although most still wore masks just in case.

"Just over four hundred, and they want to pull out at noon tomorrow. I'm hoping you can help me pack as much of my equipment as I can."

I nodded. "Certainly. Just mark each item. It isn't like I need much sleep." Ever since turning, I'd only been able to doze a couple of hours a night and felt fully rested. The long nights were annoying, but at least it would finally come in handy.

Her pinched expression eased. "Thank you! There isn't a moment to waste."

She took off at a run again, going back the way she came. I caught up before she took two paces, leaving my four shadows to scramble. Flurries of activity in the hallway proved that word was spreading quickly.

People magically melted out of our path when they spotted me. Halfway to the lab, we passed the sergeant who called the guards running after us, giving them new orders in preparation for the evacuation.

Nina barely stopped long enough to don gloves and a mask before pushing through the primary lab door. I didn't have to worry about contracting the zombie virus when it contaminated every drop of my blood, so I followed her inside. Two other scientists and a couple of assistants were already dismantling elaborate setups.

A man threw his hands in the air in despair as he told Nina, "There are so many things in progress that will have to be abandoned. This will set us back months!"

"I wish we didn't have to move," she told him, her voice just as pained as his, "but this town isn't easily defendable. We're lucky we lasted this long."

"How are we going to pack all of this?" he asked, waving a hand at the large arrays of machinery.

I spoke up, "If you put a sticky note on the machines you want, I can carry them out and load them in whatever vehicle they go in. You'll have to unhook and sterilize them though."

The man nodded, relieved to have direction, and grabbed a stack of sticky notes.

"They have things under control here," Nina told me. "Let's go to the records room."

I quickly washed my hands even though I didn't touch anything, grabbed an armful of collapsed boxes, and followed her to a room with a dozen bookshelves packed with papers, folders, and notebooks. Every section was meticulously labeled.

"This entire shelf has to come with us, and this one..." Nina said, following my earlier suggestion and putting a small sticky note on those shelves. She began digging through a third shelf and pulling out certain files.

Soon, I had caught up and was waiting for Nina to figure out which files were essential. I piled the boxes in the hallway along a wall and sat on the couch while waiting for the scientist.

A comic book rested on the arm of the chair from my last visit here. It was easier to hang out with the easy-going scientist instead of trying to interact with the population at large, most of whom wanted nothing to do with me.

"What is all this?" a voice in the hallway asked.

"Ignore it," another voice replied. "The scientists think we're going to have room for all their crap in the trailers. They're going to be in for a surprise tomorrow."

Nina's head started to turn as a third person asked, "Don't they need it for their research?"

The second person said, "You can't fix zombies. They're like rabid animals. There's no cure."

"But Nina said-"

The second person snorted. "Nina is delusional. Might as well just shoot her and-"

Rage flooded through me like a tsunami, lighting up every nerve. I was instantly on my feet with a snarl, my vision gaining an odd red tint as the world around me slowed. I caught myself mid-step, but the deep, deadly rage wasn't something that could be stopped, only redirected.

I didn't want to be responsible for another death.

In an effort to redirect my temper, I grabbed the nearest object - which happened to be the couch - and threw it across the room, toward the wall they stood behind. The effort it should have taken didn't give me the release I needed, not when it was akin to tossing an empty soda can.

But the couch slamming halfway through the wall was enough to jolt me out of the rage's fixation and back into my right mind. Their panicked shouts made part of me suddenly grateful I hadn't thrown the couch at the exact spot they'd been standing, albeit it was close enough that they would have been showered in drywall dust and fragments. The vengeful part of me wished my aim hadn't been so precise.

Anger and pent-up energy vibrated through my muscles as their footsteps fled down the hallway and out a fire exit. The training had helped me stop, but I felt like I was going to explode. I needed a quiet place to cool down.

With a huff, I stormed out of the room, picking the opposite direction the people had gone. It was so tempting to chase down their footsteps- I halted that thought lest dwelling on it lead to me acting on it.

My hearing made it easy to tell which rooms lacked occupants. I entered one at random; the smell of linen and laundry soap filled my nose. The shelving and washing machines didn't leave much room - there was nowhere to sit - so I leaned against the wall in the corner, putting myself in proverbial timeout.

Nina's footsteps stopped outside the room, and I heard the brush of fabric against paint as she also leaned against the outer wall. She remained silent for a few minutes.

Eventually, she quietly asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I exhaled heavily. "The training helped, but I suspect I'll have problems if I hear that particular person's voice again."

"If your goal was to scare them without harming them, you succeeded."

"Maybe," I said without really counting it a success. "But destroying the furniture shouldn't be necessary." I should have a better handle on my temper! I never used to have issues like this when I was human.

"I'd rather see a hundred couches and walls destroyed than see you regret hurting someone later."

I hadn't been able to figure out why the scientist was so supportive. It wasn't just because I was a zombie and a source of fascinating blood samples - she cared about anyone who was trying their best.

"Only military boots make that sound, so I'll mention the incident to the sergeant." Her voice became drier. "Because death threats are unprofessional, and whoever had a couch thrown at them would be wise to keep their distance or remain silent when in the vicinity, even if I'm ninety-seven percent certain they weren't serious."

The way she said "had a couch thrown at them" finally made a corner of my mouth quirk up.

She paused, then continued, "But I am concerned by how certain they were about the lab equipment being left behind. Would you mind accompanying me while we chase this mystery to its source? Or should I go sort more files and come back in an hour or so?"

It wasn't the first time she'd tracked me down when my control or temper were out of sorts, and she seemed rather perceptive about when I was ready for a distraction.

"I should be fine as long as we don't cross paths with the loudmouth. Let's go."

We searched a quarter of the town before we finally located the sergeant and town mayor, both of whom winced when Nina told them that she'd overheard someone saying the lab stuff would be left behind. They didn't glance at me more than normal, so they must not have heard about the couch incident yet.

The sergeant spoke first, "I planned to come find you shortly, but we simply don't have the space. There are over four hundred people here, and we only have eighty-six working vehicles, half of which are cars. Most of the good vehicles were taken by those who fled in the early days. We've only been able to find a dozen trailers, and food is going to be a huge priority in short order."

"The zombie virus isn't going to disappear," she reminded him. "You won't find half of these machines in most states. They're very specialized."

"People also like to eat," he countered calmly. "And I'm already at a crossroads trying to figure out if we should take those last three sneezers with us or let them barricade themselves inside a building until they turn."

I interjected, "Is the lack of vehicles the only problem?" When both of them looked at me, I raised an eyebrow. "If I find more vehicles or trailers, will that settle this?"

"My troops have already scoured the entire town. There aren't any others."

"I was thinking about going to the next town."

"That's over ten miles away," the sergeant pointed out. "It'd take you an hour or two to jog there, and then you'd have to deal with a few thousand zombies."

I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head sardonically. "I'm already infected. What are they going to do? Bite me?"

He considered that for a moment, then briskly nodded. "The scientists can take as much as they can fit into whatever vehicles or trailers you bring back. We have enough fuel. It's the transportation we're lacking."

"Then I better grab some tools and get going." Turning a measuring gaze on him, I added, "And if Nina is harmed before I return, I'll hold you personally accountable."

He frowned. "No one here would harm her."

"There's a couch lodged in the wall by the records room that proves otherwise."

Leaving Nina to explain, I ran to the supply room to grab a backpack, flashlights, a few water bottles, and various tools that seemed suited to break and entry. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to run to the neighboring town.

Even when running laps inside our barricade - an exercise that was supposed to burn off excess energy and help keep my temper in check - I had never grown winded. Nor did I know what my top speed was since higher speeds rattled the military guards. I hadn't been able to test my limits yet, so this trip would be a good opportunity.

Within five minutes, I reached the barricade, and at the guards' questioning gaze, I told them, "I'm going to fetch more vehicles. I'll be back soon."

"Want a lift? We can't go far, but we can get you closer," one offered.

I shook my head. "Thanks, but I'll try leading some zombies away. They won't be able to catch me."

I climbed over the wooden pallet fence that swayed under my weight and I dropped down on the other side. The thirty zombies nearby were all regular ones, and their shuffling pace barely kept up with my quick jog.

I rounded a bend in the road and decided I didn't have time for this. I knew how much equipment Nina and the scientists needed to take with them. I had to find several vehicles or a huge trailer and get it loaded within nineteen hours.

My legs sped up as wind whipped past me. I pushed myself faster and faster. The world had a slight "slowed-down" effect, just enough that I could easily see the ground and my surroundings.

I wasn't going as fast as a car could, but it was faster than bicycling. My muscles flowed smoothly without strain, and even though my breathing sped up, I wasn't gasping for breath.

It...it was kind of freeing.

I gazed down the road, and my sight shifted. Things closer to me became blurry, but objects farther away suddenly seemed much closer and detailed. When my eyes landed on a nearby tree, my eyes refocused.

This... Wow.

I kept running, wondering how long it would take before I tired or ran out of breath. I weaved around various zombies and a few long-abandoned vehicles. The army would have checked these, so I ignored them.

It wasn't long before I could see shapes in the distance, and when I shifted to "far-sight", I confirmed it was the town. A check of my watch made me frown. This place was over ten miles away. Admittedly, I wasn't there yet, but it should have taken me almost two hours to jog here. Not less than fifteen minutes.

My mind grappled with the calculations. Math had never been my strong suit, and the zombie virus hadn't helped there at all. I reached the edge of town before I managed to divide the distance by the time and figure out a miles-per-hour speed.

Surely that wasn't the correct answer... Forty or fifty miles-per-hour shouldn't have been possible on foot. Especially not at a sustained speed.

Even Bolt couldn't run that fast. Some animals were faster, but not humans.

But I was no longer human...

My steps slowed as I reached a month-old traffic jam of fire-blackened vehicles. Someone had purposefully moved three semi-trucks to block the road before they caught fire, but I needed to be able to drive out.

If I could bend jail bars, run effortlessly, and throw couches around like toys, could I push a semi-truck and trailer out of the way? On one hand, it seemed feasible. On the other hand, this rig was several times my height and had to weigh several tons.

Still, I walked up to the blackened wreckage and braced my hands on the side of the trailer above the back tires. Taking a deep breath, I pushed. The grating of pebbles almost made me wonder if I was hallucinating.

I was pushing a trailer sideways. I kept going until it swung to the side and unblocked the road. Several zombies headed for me. Glaring at them - giving them an excellent view of my red eyes - made half of them slow down, but several kept coming.

A growl rumbled through my chest - why I growled, I wasn't sure, but it worked - they stumbled to a stop and began meandering around. Shaking my head to refocus, I pushed the other two semi-truck trailers far enough to open up the road.

I stopped and wiped the back of my arm across my forehead - but it was a motion of habit. I wasn't sweating, overheating, or tired. More burnt-out vehicles blocked the road ahead, but what challenge did they pose if I could push a semi-truck?

My progress slowed as I cleared a path wide enough for me to drive a vehicle out, occasionally pausing to deter zombies. How could a small town have this many accidents and gridlocked vehicles?

I spotted several license plates from out of state. Ah. They had been fleeing from other locations. When the vehicles broke down or got stuck, they had been abandoned, likely as zombies closed in.

These ones weren't even burnt, although most had their windows broken or showed signs of damage. The army clearly hadn't come this far. I paused and looked around. I was surrounded by vehicles, but I didn't want just any set of wheels.

What I really needed was more height for a better view of the town. I eyed up a fire escape on a two-story building. The bottom rungs were about ten feet off the ground. If I pushed a car under it, I should be able to reach it.

My eyes narrowed. Wait. Could I jump that high? Suddenly intrigued, I ran over, and when I was almost directly under it, I gathered myself, and put all my strength behind my leap.

I sailed up as effortlessly as if I had jumped on a super trampoline. I stared in disbelief as I flew past rung after rung. The "slowed-down" effect let me watch each one go past while leaving me plenty of time to think - or at least gawk without worry.

When my upward momentum stalled, it was almost too easy to reach out and grab onto the nearest rung. I glanced back down. Had I really just jumped most of the way up a two-story building on my first attempt? I shook my head and climbed to the top of the fire escape, then jumped the rest of the way to the roof.

The view...

Wow. I could get used to this.

My eyes skimmed the streets, easily seeing every detail in perfect clarity if I focused on something for even a split second. This barely counted as a town. There were three gas stations, several farming supply stores, about thirty other businesses, and a bunch of houses that had sprung up around them.

Most of my surroundings were visible as I walked around the roof. The sheer number of zombies should have had me shaking in my boots - even though I was a zombie myself - but they didn't concern me in the least, almost certainly due to the zombie virus.

My gaze lingered on a long school bus in a residential backyard. The door had been broken open, but a collapsed brick wall blocked it inside the yard. I kept looking. The various traffic jams had conveniently trapped pickup trucks with trailers, including one with an enclosed horse trailer. Did school buses have trailer hitches? I couldn't see the back of the bus from this angle.

I went back to the edge of the roof just above the fire escape and looked down. Could I fly like superman? After the last hour, it seemed far more plausible than it should have been. Deciding to play it safe, I waited until I was halfway down the fire escape before testing that theory. If I could jump that high, I should be able to drop down without injury. I had no desire to break my legs or twist an ankle.

Gingerly, I stepped off the roof. Part of me thought I was nuts, but another part of me watched the bricks whiz slowly past me in boredom. I glanced up and tried to direct my mind that way, but I didn't fly. No surprise there.

My landing on the top of the fire escape was so anti-climatic that I literally stared at my feet for ten seconds. Taking a deep breath, I vaulted off the side.

It was like I was perfectly balanced, and my body knew exactly how to twist to ensure I stayed upright. I landed on the cement with a faint huff, my legs bending to absorb the impact without any real strain.

I might not be able to fly, but I could jump off tall buildings.

There were no records of zombies jumping up or down in a coordinated fashion. Poor Nina was going to have a million questions for me on the drive.

To my surprise, the school bus did have a bracket for a hitch. I just had to find the hitch itself. I regarded the reinforced garage side door. Unfortunately for it, the metal bars bolted onto the wooden door weren't about to stop me. I gave it a strong kick, and it exploded inward like a bomb had gone off.

Scratching my head, I examined the splintered wood and twisted metal that disappeared into the shadows. Apparently I was going to have to keep an eye on my strength. I pulled out a flashlight as I stepped through the doorway.

My eyes didn't seem to focus properly as the light beam intersected the deep shadows. Anything in the center of the beam was clear, but the edges had a weird wavery effect. Outside of that...it was just inky blackness.

I glanced over my shoulder as light shone in. Frowning, I looked in front of me. There should have been enough ambient light for me to see most of the garage. I'd previously noticed my ability to see in dim light had faded since turning, but I hadn't realized it was this bad.

With a faint growl of distaste which I cut off - why was I growling like a zombie? - I forced myself into the darkness. I pulled out a second flashlight to speed up my search.

Mice and rats scurried along the walls. My ears locked onto each of the twenty-three sets of claw clicks and scratching, seemingly more sensitive with my eyesight impaired. I ignored them and their overly sharp odor.

A shelf held the hitch and spare bus parts, which I tossed in a box in case we broke down. After leaving the box in the bus, I shouldered the house door open and growled at the three zombies inside as I strode past them. Luck was with me, and there was a set of keys on a hook by the door with a school bus keychain.

The bus started a lot more easily than I'd expected. As it idled and warmed up, I used my super speed to clear the tumble of bricks, some of which weighed more than I did.

There was a big diesel tank on a six-foot-high stand, and I filled the gas tank to the brim. There was still a lot left inside though. I glanced between it and the back of the bus. The back door was a hair wider than the tank.

When I opened the door, I saw the back seats covered part of the exit. I ripped half of the seats loose and threw them outside. That would give us much more room to pack boxes.

Getting the round diesel tank down was a bit tricky since I was worried about damaging it. I finally got it on the ground and turned my attention to the stand.

Metal shouldn't bend like stiff toffee.

The metal gave tiny shrieks as I turned the tall stand into an oversized cradle. But it fit inside the bus, and it held the diesel tank securely.

Now I needed a trailer.

I drove the bus down the road, frequently stopping to run outside and push vehicles out of the way. Hooking up the enclosed horse trailer was a cinch since I was able to just pull it over.

I spotted keys inside a large van. Curious, I tested it, and it started. After turning it off, I grabbed the tow strap out of the box and tied the van to the trailer. The gas mileage was going to stink, but at least I could bring back another vehicle.

I didn't dare drive fast - not with how the van kept weaving side to side without proper guidance - but I wasn't in a rush. I had plenty of storage space and all night to pack it.

A deer ambled across the road ahead of me. My gaze followed it, feeling a rather predatory urge to give chase. I'd only had one cup of blood so far today, and if tomorrow was going to be as hectic as I suspected, it might be wise to hunt.

I stopped the bus and darted after the deer. It saw me and bolted. I put on a burst of speed and slowly caught up. The deer was starting to slow by the time I reached it. Without a rifle at hand for a clean kill, I decided to rely on my own "weapons".

I slammed my fist against the back of its neck, just beneath the skull. Bones crunched as the deer collapsed and went rolling from its momentum. I slid to a stop in the grass.

Okay...how was I supposed to do this? The butchers had always just set aside cups of blood for me. I didn't have the proper tools to hang it and bleed it out. Apparently I hadn't thought this far ahead.

I sighed as I recalled the vampire book I'd read three nights ago. I'd probably look like some kind of barbarian, but I refused to let it go to waste.

Pulling out a knife, I knelt beside the deer, instinctively focusing on the neck and cutting away the fur. Somehow, I could tell exactly where the artery was. Ignoring the faint urge to take a bite of the warm flesh, I cut through the hide, muscle, and flesh

Red liquid spilled out of the small wound. Making a face even though I didn't feel the revulsion I thought I should, I leaned down and drank.

I discovered that warm blood was immensely better than something that had sat in a cup for an hour.

A deer also held a lot more blood than I'd anticipated, but...I felt better. Almost as if I'd been on the brink of starvation and finally had a good meal. I suspected the two cups of blood I'd been drinking a day had barely been sufficient. I'd have to go hunting every couple of days now that I knew.

Once I finished, I carried the deer back to the bus. I wasn't sure if it was safe for people to eat, but Nina might know. Using the mirror, I cleaned every trace of blood off my face.

I continued driving back while thinking about what I wanted to pack. All I really had were books I'd scavenged from houses to pass the long nights. I was halfway tempted to put my couch on top of the bus for the trip - good couches were hard to find - but that would be the last thing I'd pack.

It could stay in the wall for a while longer as a silent warning to whoever had threatened Nina.

I might be "safe" from the zombie virus but others weren't, and I planned to help Nina and the other scientists as they unraveled the mystery of the zombie virus.

It felt good to have a goal and purpose.