A thin woman with long yellowish white hair stood near the edge of the roof, rifle in hand. A large tent was set up as well as some chairs and a small table. The old woman leaned over the table crossed out three names written on a notepad.
"That's the rest of the Greens," she informed her husband.
Katie slowly realized that the scenery was dotted with dead bodies: halffallen into bushes, next to cars, in the doorways of nearby houses and of course, the little boy in the street.
"Out of towner came here bitten. Went into the store. Now they're all dead. Some got out and ran home. Infected their families. Got seventy in the town. We've shot twenty dead. No accounting for tourists," the old man informed them, hands tucked into his pants.
"You're both okay though," Katie said.
"Yeah. Store closed today. It's my birthday.” Ralph shrugged.
Nerit smiled at her spouse for a moment, then narrowed her eyes at something down the road and raised her rifle. Another shot rang out. She turned and crossed off another name.
"Last of the Millers," she said in a rich accent.
"Nerit is from Israel. She was a sniper in the Israeli army. Married her two years ago. Glad I did. Dead on shot."
Katie laughed and looked at Jenni. She was glad to see the other woman was actually smiling. Jack sauntered over to an old hunting dog lying nearby.
"That's Tucker. He won't mind the pup. He's too old." Ralph shook his head sadly. "Damn shame to happen on my birthday. Damn zombies."
"Car coming, Ralph," Nerit said.
They all drew close to the edge and saw a very fine silver car pull up. A man climbed out and looked around frantically. He was completely oblivious of the hungry zombies in the store behind him.
"Hello!" He spotted the people on the roof and started waving.
"Shit, it's the guy from the store," Katie said to Jenni.
Jenni narrowed her eyes. It was obvious she remembered the man who had been such an ass earlier in the day.
"Six-figure guy," Jenni murmured.
"Yeah," Katie said. "Wonder how he made it out here."
"Hello! I'm looking for Madison! The radio says that there is a rescue center there!" Six-Figure Guy kept waving at them, stirring up the zombies even more in the store behind him. He remained oblivious to their presence.
Ralph raised the bullhorn slowly. "Are you bit?"
Katie noticed the man's forearm was heavily bandaged. She looked at Jenni. The dark haired woman was staring at the man with a blank expression.
The guy looked at his arm. "I have lots of money! I can pay you for your help! I need to get to Madison and get medical attention." He took out his wallet and waved it around with his injured arm.
"Are you bit, son? If you are, my wife here can help you out," Ralph said.
"Well…" the man hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, but it is slight. I'm sure-"
The crack of the rifle made Katie flinch.
The man stood with a shocked look on his face for just a moment, then fell forward, revealing the exit wound of a nicely placed shot on the back of his head.
"He wasn't turned. We just can't do that," Katie protested.
Nerit looked at her. "Yes, we can."
"And you're going to have to," Ralph said softly. "If you're going to survive."
Katie stood, eyes blinking rapidly, and shook her head. "Oh, God." It was one thing to kill the ones who had already turned, but innocents who were infected? Could she do that?
"His head just kinda popped," Jenni said in awe.
"Anyone who is bit is going to be one of those things. Gotta shoot them and put them down. Only way." Ralph stood with his hands tucked into his jean pockets looking somber. "Only way to keep safe and keep their numbers down."
Katie thought of Lydia once more and shivered.
"Now come on downstairs for a bit to eat. Sun is about to start down and we don't wanna have empty stomachs," Nerit said and walked past them with her rifle.
"She cooks good food. First we eat, then look at guns, maybe shoot a little, then sleep."
Jenni sighed contentedly, obviously relaxing. "I'm so happy we are here.
It feels good to be around real people, not dead ones. Or stupid ones. We saw a few of those on the road."
"I'm sure you did," Nerit said sadly.
Ralph smiled at Jenni and put a gentle arm around her shoulders. "Glad to have company. Glad to help you two out."
The three of them walked back down the stairs leaving Katie standing in quiet contemplation. She looked down at Jack and returned her gaze. If she had a choice, to die quickly or turn into one of those things, which would she prefer?
Letting out a soft sigh, she rubbed her forehead.
"Jack, has the world gone crazy and everyone in it?"
Jack slightly whined She nodded. "Thought so."
Together they followed the others down the stairs.
3. The World Ends
Katie followed the others down the stairs, Jack faithfully following her.
Nerit and Jenni veered off into an old fashioned kitchen while Ralph continued down the hall to a comfortable living room. If not for the enormous flat screen TV it would have looked like the Norman Rockwell version of the perfect grandparent's home.
On the screen scenes of violence were playing while in the corner in big green lettering it read "MUTE".
"Got tired of watching. Too much talk, too little information," Ralph told her.
Katie stood mesmerized as the scenes of mayhem played out. Dutifully recorded by the media, visions of destruction and violence played. A reporter came into view, motioning at the city, obviously standing high above street level and out of the range of the violence. It looked like New York City.
Throngs of bloodied, crazed people were running down the street, attacking cars, buildings and the people within. The army was firing at will into the crowd.
"This morning they called it race riots. When it hit more cities, they called it mob violence. Early this afternoon they started calling them "the infected"." Ralph sat down in a comfortable, over-stuffed chair.
Katie sat slowly on a flowered sofa with big crocheted doilies decorating the back and armrests. Jack sat at her feet and yawned.
"I never saw or heard the news," she said softly. "I was attacked during early morning rush hour. A man…he tried to rescue me but they got him.
Jack belongs-belonged to him. On Jack's vet papers it says the owner was the Reverend William Hampton. He saved my life."
Ralph nodded. "And you saved the girl with you."
"Yes," Katie's gaze remained fixated on the screen. It was now showing a map of the United States highlighting where all the violence was occurring. "I had driven home to check on my…spouse." She hesitated, not really sure if she wanted to come out of the closet to this old-timer. "It was too late."
"They got him," the old man said softly.
Lydia rushing toward her, screaming, her chest torn open…
Katie nodded mutely and wiped away a tear. "Yes."
Ralph shook his head. "It's gone crazy. The whole world."
"Can I hear?" Katie motioned to the TV.
Ralph hesitated, then reached out, snagged the remote, and unmuted the TV.
"…and for anyone to suggest that this is something more than a viral infection that is causing psychotic behavior is ludicrous. We are not living in the dark ages," the man on the screen said firmly.
"Because of the severe wounds on the attackers, people are claiming the attackers are actually the reanimated dead," the reporter pointed out.
"Preposterous! We live in a modern era of medicine and science, not superstition. If we do not treat this as a medical crisis immediately we are doomed. Those who have been bitten and are infected must immediately report to the nearest hospital for treatment," the man identified as Philip Tritch was saying tersely.
"Most of the hospitals are now overrun with the…the CDC called them reanimated corpses."
"The CDC has fallen prey to the hysteria of a population overwhelmed by the mass infection of an Ebola-like virus…"
Ralph muted the TV. "'Bout one o'clock they said not to go to the hospitals anymore. Then CDC came on air and said it was a bunch of dead people getting up. Called them reanimated dead. Found it funny. Nobody wants to say zombie."
Katie smiled slightly, remembering her own reluctance to embrace that word. When had that changed? She wasn't sure. But it was clear to her now that the dead had returned.
And so she sat, watching the screen, watching reporters trying to report live from around the world only to be run down and torn apart. She watched anchormen and women break down crying as more and more reports flowed in. Maps were flashed on the screen showing where blackouts were already occurring. TV helicopters hovered over masses of the reanimated dead as they ran through the streets howling, chasing anyone still alive. Scenes of fires burning, the army firing, bombs exploding…
"It's the end," the old man said.
