Unrest Page 6

  The mob was still swarming, but now they could drive their vehicles through, as the military guys continued firing into the throng on both sides of them. The only drawback to the gunfire was all the attention was drawn toward them now. The zombies ignored the slow moving vehicles and went toward the men standing out in the open. The zombies either had no fear, or no clue that they were walking toward their own suicide. Likely both. Their one instinct appeared to be to feed.

  Despite killing off a good portion of them the military men were quickly overwhelmed. Those that passed through the gunfire made their way toward the men, overpowering and engulfing them. With their attention drawn to them, Marina exited the van, running into an emptied warehouse. There was still no getting around them. Xinga, Jomo, and Kamara followed her lead. They went through the first floor and out the back door into another alley. It was empty. There was no roadway here, but they had abandoned their vehicles anyway.

  Marina looked at the others. “You guys didn’t have to follow me.”

  “There was no other way out,” Kamara said.

  “It was a shitty thing to do,” Marina insisted. “We left them to die. They saved us.”

  “There was nothing we could do,” Jomo said, clearly shaken by the decision.

  “And now we have no rides,” Marina added.

  “We couldn’t have gotten out with them anyway,” Kamara said. “We were swamped.”

  “Can go please,” Xinga said, shaking.

  “I agree,” Marina said, “Let’s get the hell out of here before they catch on to us.”

  ***

  Making their way through abandoned streets, and hiding around buildings when they caught sight of zombies, they came to a set of steps. At the top of them the doors to the classical building with Roman columns was open.

  “What is?” Xinga said.

  “It’s a museum,” Jomo replied with a sense of wonder.

  “We should go in,” Marina said. “Maybe there are other survivors.”

  “Or more of...” Xinga tried her best to imitate how the zombies moaned and moved and made odd faces, and it caused them to burst out with laughter.

  “We’ll never know ’til we try,” Marina said.

  “I’ll bite,” Kamara said.

  “Poor choice of words, my friend.”

  They went up the steps and entered the immense lobby. There were no people, living or otherwise.

  “We need to get that van back,” Marina said.

  “We can’t,” Kamara said.

  “We made a promise to Jomo to get his family.”

  “No, no,” Jomo said. “I want to have my family back very much, but not at the risk of my friends. We will find another transport.”

  Marina clapped him on the back. “You’re a good man Jomo. We’re gonna get that van back. And I need to get to my place and get some guns. Then we’ll have a fighting chance with these deadbeats.”

  Xinga giggled.

  “Oh, that joke you get. Asians.” Marina winked at her.

  They moved past statues of alabaster and bronze into a hall lined with paintings. They sat down on one of the benches.

  “What now?” Kamara asked.

  “We should phone the others,” Jomo suggested, “See how they’re doing.”

  “Good idea,” Marina said.

  She got a hold of Klaus.

  “Hey, my German compatriot, how goes the search?”

  The line was so deathly silent that for a moment she thought they got disconnected. She opened her mouth to say his name, and then he spoke.

  “We’re not doing too good,” Klaus said. “Where are you?”

  “We’re at a museum. We had to abandon our vehicles.”

  “Vehicles?” he said. “Plural?”

  “Yeah, we found a van, but... Never mind. It’s pretty quiet here. But we’ve only entered the first room.”

  “Which museum are you at?” Klaus asked. She could hear Samir and Ian conferring in the back-ground. She told him.

  There was some whispering in the background before Klaus came back on and said quite assuredly, “We’re heading towards you.”

  “Okay. Good! Avoid the back streets, especially the warehouse district. Trust me.”

  “We will. Marina?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You do know that museum has a weapons room?” Klaus said.

  nine

  In The Armory, which was what the museum had dubbed the room containing weapons from different periods, they waited for the others. The weapons in question were behind quarter inch thick glass in cases on the walls or free standing on pedestals in the middle of the room behind cubes of glass. They would have to find a way to smash through, but the displays were probably alarmed, so it was best that the rest of the group arrived first before they smashed and grabbed, alerting cops who were probably already otherwise occupied, or inviting a zombie horde.

  To Marina’s dismay there weren’t many guns. A few revolvers and some long rifles, and she was sure they wouldn’t have any ammunition. There were plenty of sharp and blunt weapons that the rest of them eyed admiringly.

  “We meet the others soon?” Xinga asked, seated at one of the benches with Jomo.

  “Yes, they should be here any minute,” Jomo confirmed.

  “Good, we need more men,” she said. Then she lowered her head, embarrassed. “No defense.”

  “It’s no offense sweetie, and I won’t take any even though I can run circles around them,” Marina said.

  Kamara laughed.

  “It is true,” Jomo said, “that I am no warrior, but in my country I was an excellent hunter.”

  Marina smirked. “That’s good to know kid. I don’t think we’re the ones doing the hunting though.”

  “It will probably come in handy,” Kamara said.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t just dismiss him out of hand like that.”

  “You’re right,” Marina said. “I’ll wait to see what the kid can do.”

  The other three arrived.

  “Boy, are we glad to see you guys,” Xinga said. Samir smiled. “Good to see you too.” He looked around. “Where’s Lupe?”

  “Home with her family,” Kamara said, a bit sadly.

  “I see.”

  “Are you okay?” Jomo asked Samir. Everyone could tell something was off.

  “No. I had to kill...” He stopped and corrected himself. “My friends here killed my parents because they turned into those things.”

  “And my girlfriend,” Ian said.

  “Jesus,” Marina said.

  “And my wife is very much alive, but has gone on without me to see her parents,” Klaus said.

  “I hear ya,” Kamara said.

  “We are quite sorry for your losses,” Jomo said.

  They told the three of them about what they’d seen on the news, and how it was affecting many areas, not just Atlanta.

  “We need you guys to help us get our van back,” Marina said, “And Kamara’s car. To get Jomo’s family. And we need to get something to break into these cases so we have weapons to defend ourselves.”

  “No more T-squares and rulers?” Ian said.

  “Exactly.”

  They went through the adjoining rooms to look for objects that might open the cases. Samir found a heavy polished rock that was some sort of piece of abstract art he didn’t understand. It lay on the floor in an exhibit surrounded only by black bands and tension rods with large metal disk bases. It took both Samir and Klaus to lift it.

  The wall displays did not set off alarms but the

  cubes on the floor did.

  They took turns picking up and smashing displays with the rock between two of them and grabbing what they could, although it was obvious each had a preference.

  Xinga lifted a pair of batons that came to a sharp point and almost looked like knives except for the two curved prongs extending from the handle.

  “What are those?” Ian asked.

  “They are Sai,” Xinga said.<
br />
  “Do you know how to use them?”

  “Yes, I used to practice with them in my country.” She demonstrated by twirling them between her fingers, thrusting and parrying. She was pretty good.

  “Wow, we got ourselves a little martial artist here,” Ian announced. He went and picked out a spiked mace. It had a large wooden handle, and the spiked ball achieved both his desire to bash and to stab. It also had a long loop leather band coming out from the handle for swinging. “Perfect!” he said.

  Jomo found a hefty spear in one of the display cases and instantly began to practice thrust the air.

  Marina settled for a machete from some indigenous tribe of Native American farmers until she could slice her way home. Kamara removed a two bladed traditional Viking battleaxe, while Klaus lifted a medieval era sword, grinning widely. Samir was eyeing an 1861 Civil War musket.

  “You ever used one of those?” Marina asked.

  “No, but my father was in the Indian army and I’ve seen him use it.”

  “I have ammunition for it if you want to grab

  it,” she said. “Just have to make it to my place. I want to take a few of my guns anyway. You can use the bayonet part in the meantime.”

  Samir smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Not a problem, but that damn alarm is. I can barely hear myself talk.”

  They made it back outside on to the steps. No security came for them. There were a couple of zombies milling about at the bottom of the stairs, but otherwise the streets were empty.

  “I want our goddamn van back!” Marina shouted.

  “I’d love my car back,” Kamara said, “But realistically, not gonna happen.”

  “We certainly can’t fit everyone in my car,” Samir said, “So we will have to find something.”

  “Where is this alley where the zombies swarmed you?” Ian asked. “Maybe they’ve left. We can drive by and look in anyway.”

  Kamara told them and Samir, Ian, and Klaus left to check the situation.

  The two zombies noticed them and looked up as they descended. Ian took glee bashing in their heads with his spiked mace, swinging it from its strap in a circle, and then dancing around still swooshing the air with it. Klaus and Samir looked at him and then each other. Samir understood.

  “Next time, let me have one,” he said.

  ten

  As one group sat, waiting on the museum steps, the other group drove through side streets slowly approaching the outside of the alley where Kamara’s car and the van would hopefully be. The streets were too empty, too quiet. It seemed everyone had evacuated but them, and the dead.

  Samir called it in. “I see the vehicles. And there are about, I’m counting roughly two dozen zombies at this point. The rest must have moved on.”

  “What are you going to do?” Kamara asked at the other end.

  He looked to his friends.

  “I think we can take them,” Ian said. “They’re slow, and we have weapons now.”

  “I agree,” Klaus said.

  Samir nodded. “We’re going in,” he told her. “We’re going to get your car and the van back.”

  He hung up. The zombies looked up as he revved the engine and drove in full steam, slamming into three of them that were not near either vehicle. The automobile shuddered with the impact as two of them went over and one went under the car. The tires climbed over the zombie in its undercarriage breaking bone and squishing meat.

  The three of them stormed out of the vehicle with weapons raised, rushing into the remainder. Samir skewered several through the neck with the bayonet, bringing the brunt of the stock down on their heads when they fell. Ian smashed their heads in with the mace, while Klaus swung his sword with fervor, stabbing foreheads, slicing heads down the middle, and severing heads from bodies. The zombies

  never stood a chance.

  Klaus drove the van back and Ian took Kamara’s car, as Samir drove his own car back. Their exit from the alley took less than ten minutes. They drove the vehicles back to the museum steps to the sound of cheering.

  ***

  Watching in amazement as Marina pulled a shotgun, two black Ruger pistols with a ten mag round, and an AK-47 out of her closet, Samir barely noticed when he handed her the box.

  “Shells, for your Springfield,” she said.

  “My...what?” Samir asked.

  “Your civil war rifle musket. You needed rounds. Here they are. Never thought I’d actually have use for them. It was more of a novelty, but here they are.”

  She pulled out several boxes of ammo for the four weapons she was taking with her.

  “Jesus, how much weaponry you have?” Ian said.

  “Not nearly enough.” She strapped the two Rugers to a spare ammo belt she cinched around her waist, and carried the AK-47 and the shotgun in either hand. “Just in case.”

  Kamara frowned as she placed the two larger weapons in the trunk of her car.

  “What?” Marina said, noticing.

  “Nothing. I just don’t like guns.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Okay then. You’re not required to shoot them, but if you ever get in a pinch they’ll come in handy. Believe me.”

  Kamara nodded. “I can do just as much damage with this,” she said, raising her battleaxe.

  “Just as much? Doubtful. An impressive amount? Maybe.”

  ***

  They arrived at Jomo’s house, packing his mother, father, sister, and brother into the van.

  “Where to now?” Marina asked.

  “Try to get out of the city,” Kamara said.

  Jomo’s father said, “I’ll drive the van,” to his son, “You go with your friends. Follow behind us. I know the quickest route.”

  So it was Kamara, Jomo, Xinga, and Marina went in Kamara’s car; Samir, Ian, and Klaus continued in Samir’s car; with Jomo’s family taking the van. Exiting onto the highway they soon learned where all the people had gone. The highway was congested with automobiles, with people trying to flee the city. What they had accomplished instead was gridlock. There were people getting out of their cars in the heat, antsy, sweating, cursing God, and cursing each other. There were several accidents and an ambulance stood on the shoulder, tending to wounded. EMTs were carrying someone on a stretcher into the waiting vehicle. There were two cop cars further up with lights flashing on the side of the road.

  “Where’s the military? The National Guard?” Klaus wondered. “This is a major disaster.”

  Samir shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  The group in the other car was wondering the same thing.

  At the first opportunity the van steered into the shoulder to take the next exit off of the highway. There was going to be no clearing of the traffic jam in the foreseeable future. The cop whooped his siren as he did this and then the two other cars followed suit. They didn’t give chase. They already had too much on their hands to worry about people using the shoulder to exit.

  They entered a little podunk town that seemed to have nothing but an unserviceable gas station, a railroad track, and a few homeless souls wandering about. The rest was trees and boarded up homes.

  “I don’t think this was the intended destination,” Marina said.

  “My father will find a way out,” Jomo assured them.

  SIX HOURS EARLIER

  Elsa set out breakfast- a stack of pancakes, and lightly buttered toast with eggs sunny side up. A mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice already waited.

  “You’re too good to me,” Klaus said.

  She smiled. “Yeah, you just remember that.”

  “Can I get regular pancakes just once though?” he asked.

  “Sure, if you make them yourself. If I’m making breakfast you get buckwheat pancakes, organic eggs and multigrain toast.”

  “Okay, you win,” Klaus said, digging in.

  “Of course I do,” she smiled.

  A news brief from Alaska transmitted on the TV at the kitc
hen counter. Neither one of them were paying attention as the newswoman spoke of a rash of cows recently discovered with the dreaded Mad Cow Disease. Already officials were recognizing this especially virulent strain, and several men at the farm had fallen ill with flu like symptoms after consumption of the cow’s milk. The first case of what would be known as the Mad Cow Flu in the continental US would present itself minutes later as a man named Robert Walker would disembark from a plane at the Atlanta airport.

  ***

  She watched the news from the couch in her dormitory as she ate a blueberry muffin. It was captioned with her preferred language- Chinese. They were speaking of some strange disease on a farm in Kenya. Xinga watched with dismay as she ate, absorbing what she could about it. She thought immediately of Jomo, the new addition to their group, not knowing that they would all come face to face with the disease this very day. She changed the channel to something happier, finished her muffin, and smiled as she prepared for classes.

  ***

  When Ashley left for her class Ian finally got up from bed and made himself breakfast. He was not a morning bloke, and unless she was waking him up with sex it pretty much wasn’t worth getting up for. But he did have class himself in forty five minutes, so he had to make a quick meal and get in a quick shower. Seeing her from his bed in a bleary state was typical. She’d sleep over and do her routine, then go home, and possibly change for a date that night, depending on the evening. If he’d suspected what might happen later he might have made more of an effort to send her off, or possibly he’d have kept her there. But Ian had no idea this was the last time he’d see her alive.

  ***

  Tired after a double shift at Gilly’s Yacht Club the day before Marina woke groggy. She’d hit the snooze three times, and now it was time to seriously get her butt out of bed. Breakfast consisted of burnt toast and orange juice. Her mother phoned from Russia, a rarity. They loved each other but were never close, and with the distance between them, both emotional and geographical, and the cost of long distance calls, they spoke maybe every couple of months. The call was cursory, to see how she was getting by, if she was doing all right. She put her father on the phone for a bit as well. They got along slightly better. The entire call was shorter than ten minutes, which was fine because she had less than twenty to get to the school.