Archer Callahan sat in the front seat of a school bus and stared out the window at the standstill traffic all around them. He sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time in ten minutes, drawing his baseball cap from his head and scratching his head before placing it back down.

He glanced over his shoulder at the nearly empty bus, as a majority of the ball players he coached opted out of the bus ride home. As their coach he required them to ride home on the bus, though mother after mother had handed him a note after the game claiming there was a 'family situation' or something along those lines. Calling a parent a liar would have surely gotten him fired, or at least a long talk in the Athletic Director's office and so he didn't dispute it. The end result? Two players, himself and the bus driver sat in the worst traffic jam in state history an hour away from home on a hot Friday night in May.

"This sucks," he muttered to himself, wishing to toss the scorebook across the way into the next seat. To add insult to injury, the team had lost in the semi-final game of the state tournament to end the season.

Archer wiped sweat from his forehead and sighed again, prompting the bus driver to glance in the oversized rearview mirror. The two of them made eye contact a moment but neither man started a conversation.

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes he found himself daydreaming of the past when he had been a high school baseball player some twenty years earlier. Some of the best memories he had from those days were from the bus rides home. It's where friendships developed, friends dared friends to do stupid things and the guys were able to recap the goods and bads of the game. In 2016, not so much.

Damn Iphones, Archer thought to himself. He reached into the pocket of his pants and removed his own phone seeing no messages and minimal battery.
"I got no service," the bus driver claimed, holding his phone out.

"Might want to keep your eyes on the road." Archer was beginning to feel more and more confrontational as the minutes went by. The bus felt like it jumped up a degree with each passing second.

"In case you haven't noticed," he pointed outward toward the windshield, "We ain't moved three feet in a half hour."

"I've noticed," Archer grumbled. He looked for the little image that showed service bars on his phone, watching the battery life drop from eleven to ten percent as he did. "I don't have service either."

"Me either coach!" a voice called from the back.

"Same," the second teenager echoed.

"Hunker down," he called back to them, "We're going to be awhile." Archer ran a hand across his trim beard of blacks and grays watching as a few people began to exit their vehicles. "Great..." He shook his head.

"Late for a date coach?" The bus driver laughed.

Archer shook his head and stood up to stretch his legs. He ignored the comment and glanced out the front windshield. "What the hell is going on out there?" He tapped on the handle of the door, "Let me out."

"You sure?" The middle aged man raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah." He headed down the few stairs and the doors opened up.

Archer glanced around the world that stood still and then walked in front of the bus toward the other side of the highway. He hadn't noticed before that it was vacant. There were no cars traveling, stopped or otherwise.

A window on the bus popped open in the back. "Coach what's going on?"

"Just stay in the bus Frankie," Archie told his senior captain.

"I bet someone died up there in a car wreck," the young man said to his friend as he ducked back down into the seat.

"Hey man, what the hell is going on up there? Any idea?"

Archer turned to see a man and woman in their twenties walking toward him. "Nope. Just coming back from a baseball game." He removed his hat and tapped the side of the bus with it. "No service on the phone to even look it up."

"We don't have service either," the woman explained, holding out her phone.

"No cars coming from that side either." Archer shook his head, "Must be serious."

"Might as well get to know each other." The man chuckled and Archer was almost annoyed by his chipper mood given the circumstances but he didn't say anything. "I'm Miles. This is my girlfriend Jen."

"Archer." He shook their hands and then stood with his hands on his hips. More people emerged from their cars and exchanged in conversations ahead of them.

"Whoa look!" Jen pointed as a car came speeding down the highway on the other side.

"Cop?" Archer squinted as the car grew closer and he crossed into the median to get a closer look.

"Turn around! Get out now while you can!" a male voice shouted, barely recognizable as the car whizzed by.

Archer turned to Miles who stood at his heels and Jen squeezed his hand.

"What's he mean?" she asked.

"No idea." Miles's tone was far more nonchalant.

"What if something bad is happening?"

"Well it ain't something good," Archer said, motioning to the area around them.

"Maybe we should get the hell out of here," Jen suggested, panic rising in her voice.

"And go where honey?" Miles asked, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

"That way." She pointed to where the car had long since disappeared into the distance.

"I don't feel like getting arrested today." He turned back to Archer who hopped the guard rail to glance down the way again. He put a hand up to shade his eyes despite the fact that the sun had already dipped down behind the horizon.

"What is it?" Miles asked.

"I don't know." He walked a few feet upward and then jumped back when he heard a series of gunshots.

"What was that?" The panic in Jen's voice hardened her boyfriend's features.

"Relax." Miles shook his head and then made eye contact with Archer as he turned his head to face them.

"Coach what was that?" Frankie put his face in the narrow, horizontal window. His eyes were wide with excitement.

"Stay on the bus," Archer called back calmly.

"Was it gunshots?" Lance, the other teenager on the bus hopped up to the window beside his friend. "It sounded like gunshots."

"I think it was," Jen told them honestly, looking over her shoulder at the boys.

"Just stay on the bus!" Archer ordered a little more sternly as sirens sounded off in the distance. The flicker of blues and reds illuminated the sky and drew more patrons from their cars. "What the hell is going on?" he wondered aloud to himself.

Miles jumped the guardrail and the two of them stood shoulder-to-shoulder staring off into the distance. "Felon on the run maybe?" the younger man asked.
"Who knows." Archer didn't take his attention off the chaotic scene ahead. A loud bang, like metal on metal, crunched through the air and everyone out standing on the highway looked around at one another.

"Something's not right," Jen said from behind them. Her voice was shaky and high-pitched.

"Jen-" Miles began, but turned when the bus driver opened his window.

"Coach Callahan!" the man shouted, holding up his CB radio, "Get back in here!"

"What is it Larry? Parents?" Archer asked.

"No... no I just crossed over into the police frequency." He shook his head with eyes like saucers that flattened out the wrinkles beneath his eyes.
"What's going on?" He hopped the guardrail, glancing over his shoulder as squealing tires led a second car flying down the opposite side of the highway in their direction.

"Seems there is some type of infected person up there... or people; lots of them."

"Infected?" Archer rounded the front of the bus with his two new acquaintances at his heels. "Stay off the bus," he ordered to them, hurrying up the short set of steps.

Larry turned up the radio and the boys rushed up from the back. Archer leaned in to get closer to the small speaker and Miles and Jen turned an ear to listen.

"All units available!" a frantic male voice shouted, "All units, I repeat, get down to Route 55 by the 91 connector! Officers are down! Attackers are not responding to tasers or firearms!"

"North or southbound?" a voice replied.

"South! We need immediate assistance! Assailants are not going down! They look... they look ****in' dead! I shot a woman three times and she did not go down!"

"Coach?" Lance turned to Archer, who was as confused as the rest of them. He glanced all around him at the worried faces, Larry and Miles included.

"Something's not right." Jen's panic rose higher. "Shit, we can't even try to go back in the opposite direction because of the guard rail."

"I can't even call my mom," Frankie added.

"This bus is too big to turn around." Larry shook his head and Archer stiffened up his posture, nonchalantly turning down the radio as the voices on it became more erratic.

"We've got to just ride this thing out," he told them. "If something is going on it's way up there. More police are on the way."

"What if whatever's up there comes down here?" Lance asked.

Archer patted him on the back, "Well, Lance, we've got the biggest damn automobile out here. I say we'll be just fine if we sit tight." He turned and glanced out the window, hearing more sirens coming from all directions. When one whizzed by in the breakdown lane next to them the boys rushed back to look out the windows.

Larry slowly turned the knob on the CB radio, drawing everyone's attention back to the chaos.

"Hey man," Archer began, "Can you-" Boom!

An explosion rang through the air and Jen screamed, leaving everyone else either jumping ten feet in the air or grabbing the person next to them.

"What was that?" Jen asked.

"What was that?" Frankie echoed.

A cloud of smoke puffed up into the air and Archer hurried off the bus again, pushing past Miles and Jen, this time with Lance and Frankie just a step behind him.

"Whoa!" Frankie said aloud. His mouth hung open and he stared at the dark gray cloud that hung above the highway.

"Frankie, Lance!" Archer wanted to order them back onto the bus but he couldn't keep his attention from the smoke cloud. There was another loud bang, this time all of them could see that it was a car attempting to jump the guardrail down the way.

"Think this bus could plow through it?" Lance asked, looking to Archer.

"No." He shook his head, "That guy's an idiot."

More cars tried to follow suite, each one as unsucessful as the next until there were a collection of cars with popped tires and popped hoods.

"Look!" Miles pointed, seeing a man running straight down the center of the two rows of cars that were all at a standstill on their side of the median.

Archer walked toward him, seeing his face was frantic; his hands dirty and covered with blood. On his chest over a dark blue uniform was a shiny police badge.

"Hey!" he called to the officer, "Hey, what's going on up there?"

The man continued breathing heavy and wore an expression like he had just seen a ghost. On his arm was a gaping wound that he covered with the other hand.

"Officer!" Archer shouted as the two were about to cross paths.

"Get out! Go!"

"What?" He grabbed him by the shoulder, prompting the officer to release his wounded arm. Behind him he heard Lance and Frankie gasp. "What happened to you?" The wound was gushing blood and in the shape of teeth marks.

Still slightly incoherent and choppy in his response, the officer's terrified eyes looked back at him and he grabbed Archer by the shoulders. "Heaven help us. Heaven help us all."

 

I'm partway through chapter 2... definitely posting soon!

 

Chapter 2

"Coach?" Frankie's eyes lit up as he studied the wound for a moment as the police officer hightailed it in the opposite direction he'd come from. There were more crashes as cars attempted to plow through the metal barrier to escape down the other side of the highway. Each time was an unsuccessful as the next.

"People are panicking," Archer said with a loud sigh. He tugged on his ball cap and then looked to the speechless crowd around him. When there were more shouts, hollers and cries from down the highway he decided to make a judgment call. "Let's head south down the highway back the way we came."

Miles glanced over his shoulder at the bus. "There's no way we're maneuvering this thing out of here. I won't even be able to get my little Honda out."

"We'll go on foot," Archer went on. He pointed toward the woods. "Up that way."

"No way." He shook his head. "I'm not leaving my vehicle."

"Stay then." He waved to the bus driver, "Larry!"

"Coach, my mom... my dad." Frankie shook his head. "What's going on?"

Archer looked down the way again seeing people beginning to flee. A number of people were beginning to weave in and out of the parked cars and the smell of smoke took over the air.

"Yeah, our families," Lance swallowed hard, eyes beginning to get teary. "There has to be a way we can wait this thing out; get in touch with them."

"There will be," Archer promised. He glanced at Larry as he exited the bus. "Shit's about to hit the fan. We need to get out of here."

"I think it's already hit the fan Archer."

"Yeah..." He looked downward toward the chaos and then to Miles and Jen. "Do what you want. We're heading that way." Archer hurried past Larry a moment and rushed onto the bus, returning with the two baseball bags that belonged to the boys and then lead the march over the median onto the opposite side of the highway.

"It could still clear up!" Miles shouted after him, standing in place with Jen at his side.
Archer turned to him and walked backwards. "Take your chances then." He turned back around and headed toward the coverage of the trees.

"We've got to get home," Lance said in a panic. "What was wrong with that guy's arm back there?"

"I don't know Lance." Archer breathed heavy, scanning the area and then urged everyone to move faster. "Let's go!"



"But my parents-"

"Lance!" he turned abruptly and looked into the young man's eyes. "We'll head back toward home. We're an hour away by bus, which means a long way by foot." Archer remained calm and put a hand on his shoulder. "Right now we need to get ourselves out of harm's way."

"What's going on?" the boy begged.

Archer looked back toward where they had come from seeing Miles and Jen running toward where they stood at the edge of the woods. Up ahead he could see the scene more clearly. There were sirens and smoke and people running wildly. It was hard to tell what was what, but he knew it was bad.

"I don't know," he confessed. "But it's nothing we want to stick around to witness."
"Terrorists?" Frankie asked.

"I don't think so," Larry told them.

"Keep moving." Archer waved an arm and they hurried deeper into the woods until the highway was barely visible anymore. When Miles and Jen caught up they stood in a collective group in silence aside from all the heavy breathing.

"Well, if it's not terrorists then what?" Frankie asked.

"Dead people," Larry explained, "Dead people walking."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Miles asked, putting his hands on his knees.

"I heard it over the radio. The police, they had no idea-"

"Look, we need a real explanation for whatever the hell happened back there," he cut him off. "And my car..." His face twisted painfully.

"Screw your car Miles," Jen shook her head. "I believe you." She nodded to Larry, "That police officer said Heaven help us. He was bitten."

"By some crack head probably," her boyfriend said.

"No." She shook her head again, "No it's the undead. This is it. This is the end of humanity as we know it."

"Stop being dramatic Jen." Miles raised his voice, "Just shut up!"

"Hey!" Archer bellowed and stared him down. "Now's not the time for this shit."

"Who made you the boss?"

"I'm not the boss but if you talk to her like that again we're going to have a problem." Archer stared him down and when he didn't say anything back he took a deep breath and relaxed. "Look, we need to put some distance in between ourselves and whatever is going on here. So, I say we keep moving."

"I agree," Larry nodded. "Ya'll didn't hear what I heard on that radio."

"We saw the cop," Frankie said with a sigh.

"I just want to get home," Lance added.

Archer looked around the group, noting mostly everyone's eyes were on him. He decided to step up and take the lead again. "Come on." He waved an arm. "Let's move."

No one argued. They followed close behind, each with their own worries and scenarios. The truth was no one knew where they were headed, or where the woods would lead. All they knew was that they were separated from the chaos for the time being.

"Death march," Miles said under his breath, prompting Jen to shoot him a glare.

"Be quite Miles."

"What?" he asked, "Where are we even going?"

Frankie looked over his shoulder at the couple, prompting a snooty remark from Miles.
"What the hell are you lookin' at kid?"

Archer turned to Miles, stopping in his tracks and put a hand on his chest. "Cut the shit or turn around."

"Listen-" he began to shout, but Archer cut him off.

"No you listen!" he put a finger in his face. "No one forced you along so keep your mouth shut or go on your own way!"

Miles clenched his jaw and then pushed himself back roughly. "Screw it, let's go Jen." He reached for her hand but she pulled away.

"Go where?" she asked.

"Back to the highway. My car-"

"Screw your car!" she shouted, "There is something terrible that's happening and I'm not running back to it."

The two of them stared each other down and then Archer attempted to make the peace. "Look Miles, I know you're freaked out. We all are."

"I'm not scared." He shook his head and smirked. "I'm just not up to follow you on this yellow brick quest. There are no undead people walking around. The cop was bitten by a crack head probably. Whatever chatter was going on that radio shows the incompetence of-"

"Oh my God!" Jen's jaw dropped and she pointed in the distance.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared in the direction that her arm was extended.

"What the hell..." Larry's voice trailed off.

A man stumbled through the trees covered in blood and as he got closer to them he began a series of scratchy growls. His eyes were glazed over, a combination of gray and red and he snapped his teeth in an animalistic fashion.

Archer stepped in front of the boys, putting an arm out. "Stay back." He eyed the man. "Hello!"

The snaps and snarls continued as the stranger honed in on him, beginning wobbly, uneven steps in Archer's direction. When the person stumbled and fell the rest of the group jumped backwards, but Archer took a few steps forward.

"Do you need help?" he maintained a cautious distance, but then felt a fear rise in his chest when the man began to crawl, using just his arms and dragging his legs like dead stems behind him.

"He's dead," Jen said quietly. "That man is dead."

"No..." Archer shook his head and looked at the man in the eyes. "Do you need help?" he called out again as he continued to scrape across the forest floor, digging his fingers into the weed-choked landscape with dead eyes fixed on Archer.

"What's wrong with him?" Lance asked. "Why won't he answer?"

He took a deep breath, allowing the man to come within a few inches of his feet and then backed up slowly at first, and then put some more distance in between them.

Up close, Archer could see the man's skin beginning to peel and fall off his face, beginning around his mouth. "Radiation?" he wondered aloud.

"We'd all be affected by that." Larry watched in amazement, and no one took their eyes off the crawling stranger.

"We need to try to help him," Lance chimed in, breathing heavily.

"No," Frankie argued. "No, look at him. He's diseased."

"Don't touch him," Jen added.

"He's dying," Lance said.

"He's dead!" she said back.

"He's moving," the teen argued. "Dead people don't move."

Another louder growl drew everyone's attention back to the man on the ground.

"I think she's right," Larry told them. He sighed, eyes still wide watching things unfold in front of him.

"It's got to be radiation." Archer looked at the old bus driver. "No?" He shouted at the man again. "Do you need help?"

"This isn't right," Larry went on. "He's like a rabid dog now."

"Rabid..." Miles swallowed hard and felt as if he couldn't move.

"You need to put him down," Larry said, prompting Archer to look up at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Put him down Arch."

He shook his head. "I'm not... I can't kill a man."

"That's not a man. That's a rabid animal."

Archer sighed and looked at the person again. He knew Larry was right, at least to an extent, but he also knew he wasn't about to kill the person. "We don't know enough."

"Coach!" another man stumbled toward them through the trees in similar fashion and everyone stiffened up.

"Hey!" Miles called, "Hey you! Do you... do you need help?"

The second stumbler walked in their direction with no response aside from a series of similar growls. Like the first one, his eyes were glazed, his mouth was laired in blood and his arms were outstretched.

"This isn't right." Lance looked around. "This... this is crazy."

Archer looked in all directions, wondering if there were more of them and then refocused at the man at his feet.

"Put him down," Jen urged.

"I can't do that!" he said loudly. "These people look... sick. They need our help."

Lance approached the second one as it headed in their direction.

"Lance don't!" Archer shouted.

A snap of the man's jaws made him pull back. "Sir..."

"Get back Lance!" he said again.

The stumbling man continued on in Lance's direction, fixated on the young man in front of him. With each snap of his teeth a new wave of panic rose in his chest. "Dude..." He raised his eyebrows.

Archer left the crawler and rushed to where the young man was struggling now. He almost froze when Lance's hands seemed to go right through the fragile flesh of the being in an attempt to hold him back.

"What the hell..." the young man's mouth dropped he only pulled his hand away when the person's teeth clamped down on his hand.

"Lance get back!" Archer pushed the young man away and then proceeded to fight the walking corpse at it turned its attention to him. Like Lance, Archer's hands seemed to push right through the man's body, but he managed to wrestle him to the ground, glancing at his hands in disgust as they were now covered in blood and guts.

"Holy shit!" Jen wanted to scream but she couldn't.

Frankie, Larry and Miles could only watch, frozen like statues, as Archer contemplated what to do next. When the thing lunged for him from the ground, Archer turned to Frankie.

"Bat!" he called.

"Huh?" the stunned teen stared back at him.

"Give me your bat!" Archer shouted, "Come on! Now!"

Frankie hesitated a moment but then felt reality sink in and he managed to upzip the end of his bag, tossing the bat to Archer a few feet away.

Archer raised the bat high above his head and brought the barrel down hard onto the skull of whatever it was that was in front of him.

Jen screamed, and the rest of them watched in horror as the being collapsed into a heap in the dry leaves.

"Holy shit!" Lance shrieked, "Holy ****ing shit!"

"Archer!" Larry motioned to the other one as it began to crawl toward them.

Frankie ran to his friend, reaching for his injured hand. "You okay?"

Lance couldn't speak. His whole body shook and his face went pale. He shook his head and then closed his eyes as Archer took a swipe at the other seemingly undead being that made an attempt to attack them.

For a moment the woods were silent. Archer stood above the creature, feeling adrenaline flowing through his core and into his arms and legs. He didn't know what to make of his actions, or of the rotting, bloody people in the woods.

I just killed two men, he thought to himself. He glanced down at the bloody baseball bat and then let it slowly drop from his hand.

All eyes were on him again as he switched his gaze from one person to the next. Their expressions were unforgettable - all wide-eyed, scared and frozen. It was Lance's shaking body and terrified eyes that put Archer over the edge. He looked back down at the corpse at his feet and then keeled over and vomited.

 

Thanks! I've just had the urge to write an apocalypse storyline. Thanks for checking it out! Writing Chapter 3 now while watching the Giants game lol

 

Archer sat with his back against a tree and tried to regroup. He wasn't sure what he should have felt after pummeling two rabid, dying individuals but he sick to his stomach was about right. A half an hour had passed since the incident ensued and their march through the woods had come to a halt. Upon checking Lance's wound Archer found himself in emotional turmoil over his decisions despite the backing by Larry, Jen and Frankie.

The old bus driver squatted down beside him and looked him in the eye. "You didn't do anything wrong Archer."


"Yeah?" he cleared his throat and looked down at his bloody hands.


"Those men were already dead."


"They were walking." Archer looked him in the eye. "What if they just wanted help?"


"Just wanting help doesn't lead to mass panic on the interstate," Larry reminded him. "These things are causing all the chaos."
"These things?" he shook his head. "They're human... they're like us."


"They aren't and you know it. You just haven't accepted it yet."


Archer stared into the old man's tired eyes. "How can you be so sure?"


"I'm not... but I'm trusting my gut on this one." Larry pointed to Lance, who still was openly shaken, "That thing attacked that boy. It wasn't looking for help."


"Look what the **** do you know?" Miles rose from where he sat a few feet away with Jen. "You don't know shit Larry."


Archer turned to him. "Why don't you tell us your theories then?"


"Terrorists. Radiation."


"It's not terrorists."


"Oh, what are you special forces or something now? You know what happened back there?"


Archer didn't have it in him to argue. He was having enough trouble processing his decision. Rather than sit in the torment he was putting himself through he rose to his feet and approached Lance again. "How's your hand?"


"I'm alright... I think." He swallowed and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "My hands went right through his chest... right through him."


"We're going to get some answers," Archer promised, "And then we're going to get you home."


"Do we even know where home is?" Frankie asked. "We could be going in the wrong direction."


"We'll find a car," he vowed with a nod, "And we'll get ourselves back on the road."


"We should keep moving," Larry suggested, "Keep walking."


Archer nodded. "Agreed. We have to. We have nothing here and it's getting dark."


"Good call on the woods as a safe place," Miles remarked.


Archer looked over and approached the younger man until they were nose to nose. "Do we have a problem here?"


"Nah," Miles said, "We're only lost in the woods running from rabid, foaming at the mouth human beings that you like to slaughter."


"Back off Miles," Jen urged, but he didn't look away.


"No one's holding a gun to your head," Archer told him, lowering his voice, "If you stay with us you keep your mouth shut."


"Or what?" he challenged.


"Or I'll shut it for you."


The two men stared at one another for another long moment before Larry stepped in and gently placed the back of his hand against Archer's chest. "We should get moving," he said again.


"Yeah." Archer still stared at Miles for a second and then switched his gaze to Larry. "Yeah, let's get moving."


Frankie helped Lance up off the ground and they pressed on. Everyone looked over their shoulders, staying in a close pack as the darkness crept in.


"Stay on the path," Archer told them, "It's got to lead somewhere." He remained out in front with the baseball bat in secured in his right hand.


"We're going to need some kind of shelter," Larry told him, "A place to stay the night."


"I'm hoping we hit a residential area eventually."


"It doesn't look promising," Frankie chimed in. He shared a look with Archer.


"We just have to stick together... work as a team." He nodded and the young man returned the gesture.


Larry looked at his watch every so often as they walked. The heat from the day hadn't died down much since the sun had called it a night. Every fifteen minutes felt like an hour, and when the hour finally passed it felt like a full day.


"Everyone alright?" Archer asked, looking over his shoulder noting the silence that had fallen over the group. The hope he once had began to fade and he feared that they wouldn't find any shelter that night, or that they were bound to walk in and endless world of trees and paths that ultimately lead to nowhere.


"Fence," Frankie said quietly. He pointed ahead.


"What?" Archer turned to him.


"Up head right there there's a chain link fence. Do you see it?"


"I see it!" Jen exclaimed.


"Where?" Miles asked.


Archer jogged up ahead with Frankie at his side and the two of them arrived at the fence at the same time. "Good eyes, kid."


He nodded. "That's why I was the leadoff batter."


Archer smiled for the first time since they'd left the highway and Frankie managed a grin back. When the rest of the group caught up they all stood with their hands on the metal bar on top of the fence and looked around.


"This has to be for something," Larry said, pointing out the obvious.


Archer looked around at everyone. "Stay here for a minute." He proceeded to hop the fence.


"I'll go with you," Frankie offered, but he shook his head.


"No, stay with Lance." He looked at the young man, "He needs you."


Frankie looked to his teammate who appeared more terrified by the minute. He nodded and Archer held up a hand before going forth in the darkness to see if there was anything up ahead that could help them.


His breathing was choppy and he felt his heart rate rise as he made his way into the unknown. The world around him was almost pitch black, but his eyes managed to make out what was in the immediate distance.


The trees began to thin out but it was still hard to tell what was in front of him. He moved quickly - too quickly, and for that he caught his foot on something and fell hard to the ground.


"Shit..." he huffed, taking a deep breath before he rose back to his feet rubbing his shoulder. Archer squinted and saw he had tripped over a small fire pit made of paver-stones. He looked around again and then pressed on until he was able to make out a structure that he recognized was the pitch of a house. Hope rose in his chest and he picked up into a light jog despite having tripped just a few seconds before.


There were no lights on in the house, but as he approached he recognized a back deck and carefully took the steps until he found himself at the back door.


Archer wanted to shout out for someone, or knock loudly at the door but he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know if people were hunkered down in the house, if there were more of the rabid monsters lurking around or if whoever lived at the house even had knowledge that something odd was going on with the world. Before he could make the decision for what to do next he heard a click behind him that sounded deafening in the darkness. The click was something he couldn't mistake for anything else and he put his hands high in the air.


"Don't shoot," he said calmly without turning around.


"Don't move," a female voice demanded. She took a deep breath, "Drop the weapon."


"It's not a weapon."


"It's covered in blood," she pointed out, "I'd say it's a weapon... now put it down."


Archer released his grip on the bat, letting it drop to the wooden boards by his feet with a collection of clanking sounds. When the bat finally came to a still, he swallowed hard.


"I don't want any trouble," he explained, "I'm just looking to get my group to safety."


"Group?" the woman's voice got louder, "What group?"


"We came from Highway 55. I'm a baseball coach. I have two players, a bus driver and a random couple we met on the road." He took a deep breath. "Something serious happened out there. Do you know anything about it?"


"Turn around," she ordered. "Keep your hands up."


Archer did as she asked, slowly turning to face her. She studied the logo on his hat and then looked him in the eye. "What do you know?"
"Highway was backed up... something like rabid humans attacked us in the woods... people were running all over the place." He looked her in the eye. "I need to get these kids home to their families. Can you help us?"


She kept the gun and stood at attention. "Where are they?"


"Back at the fence." He used his head to nod in that direction. "I didn't want to scare whoever lived here so I told them to wait back there." Archer held her gaze. "Can you help us? We don't have a car. Our phones aren't working..."


The woman shook her head and softened her eyes just a bit. "Nothing's working," she informed him.


"What do you mean?"


"What's your name?"


"Archer Callahan." He hesitantly reached a hand out and she stared at him a moment. "I'm not going to hurt you."


"I know," she told him, "Because I have a gun."


Archer kept his hand extended and she finally let her guard down enough to return the gesture quickly before raising the gun again.
"I'm Sally... Sally Blake." She took in a deep breath through her nose. "This is my house. The power went down a couple hours ago. After hearing about the mass hysteria I decided to hunker down and wait with my friend here." She motioned to the gun in her hand.


"What are the chances you can help get us home?" Archer asked.


Sally stared back at him, "I live out in the middle of nowhere but from what I can tell..." she sighed and shook her head, "There is no more home."

 

Thanks! Just finished Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4
When the members of Archer's group turned out to be exactly as he had described, Sally reluctantly let them all into her home. Ultimately, it was the frightened looks on the young boys faces that made her cave and let her guard down.

"What happened to him?" she nodded her head toward Lance, who was catering to his wounded arm as he entered last through the back door.

"The thing that attacked us," Archer began to explain, "Or the person... whatever... he was bitten."

Sally's eyes lit up for a brief second but she quickly distracted herself by locking the dead bolt and pulling a shade down over the back door's window.

"Look," Miles spoke up, "We need to get home. Do you have a car or something?"

Sally glanced at him for a moment and then looked back to Archer. "Can I speak with you for a minute?"

Miles put his hands on his hips and let out a loud sigh. "Look lady-"

"It's Sally," she replied sternly. "You came from the highway and it's gridlocked. You're not getting home tonight. If you want out," she pointed, "There's the door." Sally took a deep breath and paused, "There's a lighter on the mantle above the fireplace there. Light whatever candles you want."

Archer tried to hold back a subtle smile from the way that Sally put Miles in his place and then followed her into the next room. "Everything okay?" he asked, noting they were in the kitchen when his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A fire truck magnet clung to the refrigerator and caught his eye.

Sally lit a single lavender-scented candle that sat on the kitchen table and then looked directly at him. "The boy who's been bitten..."

"Lance," Archer informed her, stepping closer as he sensed she was trying to be discreet in their conversation.
She lowered her voice even more and sighed, brushing her parted blond hair to the side. "That's the first step."

"What do you mean?"

Sally sighed and looked down toward the floor and then back up at Archer. "I work for the fire department," she explained, "We were involved with a few... cases of this earlier this morning."

"What is it?" he asked, "What exactly is going on?"

"I don't know," she confessed, "But we came to the conclusion after witnessing it first hand..." Sally shook her head, empathy shooting through her body for the young boy, "When someone is bitten they eventually become..." She searched for the proper word but chose the one that Archer used when she couldn't come up with anything, "Rabid."

"That can't be." He shook his head and looked toward the open doorway.

"I've seen it." Sally shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"I have to get these kids home to their parents," Archer went on, "They're my responsibility. If something happens to one of them-"

"Something already happened," she explained, "We have to quarentine him."

"Quarentine?" He shook his head and looked to the door again. "I can't... we can't isolate him. He's scared shitless."

"I don't see another option."

"This is your home," Archer stated the obvious, "But what else can we do? I want to respect your boundaries here but we can't just lock him up somewhere."

"We can be subtle about it," Sally explained. "Get him settled somewhere once the fever sets in."

"Fever?"

"It'll happen soon... once the virus or sickness or whatever it is sets in."

Archer looked at her more directly. "You're sure about this?"

Sally nodded, never breaking eye contact with him. "I'm sorry."

"So it's a death sentence then?" He removed his hat and ran a hand through his messy dark hair, "Does it always work that way? Does it have to be?"

"I'm going based on what I've seen."

"There must be a way to... reverse it somehow." Archer sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and thought for a moment. He stared at the flickering flame on top of the candle that Sally had lit and thought of Lance's parents. What would happen to them if their son didn't return home?

"He'll turn into the thing that bit him," Sally went on. "And if he gets like that around us he could cause harm to the rest of us. If he were to bite you or me or his friend; any of us." She shook her head, "That would be the end for us too."

He swallowed hard and looked up at her. "I hope you're wrong."

"So do I." She paused, "But I don't think I am."

A knock on the wooden frame of the door caught their attention and Frankie walked in with Lance a step behind him.
"Hey." Archer tried to force a smile.

"What are the chances that we'll be able to get home?" Lance asked, "Tonight... tomorrow."

"I don't think it'll be tonight," Sally told him, and then looked to Archer to provide some confirmation and back her up.
"No it doesn't look good," he echoed, suddenly staring at the area on Lance's arm where he was bit. "How ya feeling kid?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't know."

"Why don't you go lay down," Archer suggested, turning toward Sally. "If that's alright."

"Of course." She waved him toward her but Lance shook his head.

"I'm too... nervous to try to rest. I want to go home."

"I know," Sally told him, "You should get some rest in case we're able to wake up tomorrow morning and go. Save it up for the morning. The roads are all blocked off tonight; highways, backroads, all of it. Believe me, I tried to leave here."

Lance shifted his eyes to meet Archer's who nodded. "Let her make you a bed."

Sally waved an arm in his direction and then placed a soothing hand on his back as they left the room. "I have a gas stove," she explained, "I'll make you a tea, okay?"

"Okay," Lance agreed and then wandered away into the darkness.

Frankie immediately slipped into the chair beside Archer and got real close to speak with him. "He's not okay, is he?" He took in a deep breath before he could get answer, "Is he?"

"It's an injury to his arm," Archer told him, attempting to make light of the situation.

"But that thing bit him. It looked human but it wasn't human. That's what bit the cop out on the highway. That's what's causing all the destruction."

"We don't know anything yet." He shook his head but could see that Frankie suspected the truth. Archer lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment and then looked the young man in the eye. "We have to keep our attention on Lance. Sally is just making sure he's not feverish."

"And if he is?" Frankie's eyes were wide and waiting for a response.

"If he is then... we'll take care of him the best we can."

"We need a hospital."

"There may not be any more hospitals," Archer explained, continuing to keep his voice down.

"No more hospitals?" Frankie's mouth hung open as the last word left his mouth and he stared off into space. "Coach, what the hell is happening out there? Is this like... the end of days or something?"

"No." He shook his head, "No, this is just another crisis. The world has been having them for decades; centuries."

"No hospitals?" he said quieter.

Archer patted him on the back and looked toward the door that Sally and Lance had left through. "Let's just work on getting through tonight. Tomorrow at this time things could be back to normal." He stood up, "Let's go check on Lance."

 

Sally set up Lance in a spare bedroom down the hall and set a water bottle down at his side. "How long ago were you bitten?"

"Um..." he took a deep breath, "Like an hour... maybe."

"Okay." She smiled at him. "I'm going to get you some Advil to deal with the pain. I don't have anything stronger."

"Thank you." The young man laid his head back against the pillow and put a hand on his forehead. "It's so hot."

"I'll get you a cold towel for your head." Sally put a hand on his damp forehead and drew her hand back almost immediately from the shock of the warmth. "I'll be right back."

She hurried out of the room, passing Archer and Frankie in the hallway. "You can go in. I'm getting him Advil."

Archer read her body language and knew that something wasn't quite right. He assumed it was with Lance's condition and so he followed her into the bathroom. "What?" he asked.

"He's burning up," she explained.

"It's hot."

Sally stopped what she was doing and placed a hand on Archer's forehead. "Yeah... it's hot for all of us. You're sweating. Your forehead is warm." She removed her hand and shook her head. "That boy has a fever."

Archer didn't want to believe it, and he tried not to be naïve about the situation but he felt there was no other way to be. He hadn't experienced any of this. Several hours ago he was sitting impatiently on a bus ready to go home to his empty house after a tough loss and drown in his baseball sorrows. Now, he was being told that one of teenage players was dying and at risk for turning into some creature straight out of a horror movie.

"From what I've seen," Sally went on quietly, "He doesn't have much time."

"There has to be something we can do."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm just going to keep him comfortable."

"Archie!" Larry's voice came from down the hall and he turned toward the door.

"Go ahead," Sally urged, reaching for a thermometer next.

Archer wandered down the hall to the back room where Larry, Miles and Jen had stayed put. "What is it Larry?"

"There's something on the back deck," Jen said quietly. Her voice shook and she looked more visibly distraught than she had several minutes before.

Larry peered out the window, pushing the curtain back just a few inches so he could see. "It's stumbling around," he whispered, looking over his shoulder as Archer joined him to look out.

They sat in silence for a moment, each attempting to steady their anxious breathing as they watched the person stumble limply into a grill and tumble to the floorboards with a loud crash.

"What the hell was that?" Jen asked in a panic. She clutched Miles's shirt and stared wide-eyed at them.

"It's another one," Archer explained, "I think."

"Well is it or isn't it?" Miles asked.

"It is," Larry confirmed with a nod. "I can hear it growling."

"God, what the hell is going on?" Jen asked aloud to no one in particular. Her voice got louder and more shrill, "We have to get out of here. We have to get home."

"The roads are all blocked off," Archer explained, "They're everywhere."

"We don't know that," Miles argued.

"Sally said things were starting to get out of control," he informed them, "She's a firefighter. She saw it up close."
"There has to be a way," Miles went on, "Somewhere... some road."

"You want to go out there with these things wandering around?"

"I don't to stay here." He shook his head, "They're obviously here too." Miles motioned to the back porch where the struggled ensued as the rabid man attempted to rise to his feet in the midst of being entangled with the grill.

"The noise," Larry said quietly. "It'll draw more."

"You don't know that," Miles argued again.

"We shouldn't wait to find out." Archer rose to his feet and grabbed the baseball bat that Sally had since put down when she recognized they weren't a threat.

"What are you doing?" Jen asked.

Archer headed to the back door. "I'm going to put it out of its misery."

"No," she said, shaking her head and reaching for his arm, "No, please."

"I have to."

"You don't have to."

"It'll draw more," Larry repeated. He looked at Archer, "I'll cover you... in case there are more." He looked around the room and found a fire poker for the fireplace and headed behind him.

"Don't let them ****in' things in here," Miles warned.

"Just stand by the door," Archer instructed. He tugged at the door knob and then slipped through the wooden door, pushing the screen one open next and eased out onto the porch.

The growling was louder now and the he was pleased to see that the man was still crawling around on the ground. Almost immediately it focused its attention on the two of them as they cautiously approached.

The rabid human reached an arm outward and left its mouth open as it began to army crawl toward them.

Archer looked at the man, seeing the deteriorated skin peeling on his face. He hesitated as he raised the bat.

"Do it Arch," Larry encouraged.

Archer looked back to Larry for a brief second and the huffed a deep breath before slamming the bat down on his head. "Sorry buddy," he said once, and then connected a second and third time before the world went silent.

He took a few deep breaths and stared at the lifeless body. Larry stared too for a moment and they both looked at one another when they heard another collection of growls from somewhere in the immediate area.

"Let's get back inside," Larry suggested, alarm ringing in his voice and the two men hurried back into the house getting looks from Jen and Miles.

"It's dead?" she asked, takin in the bloody bat and the spatter all over Archer.

"Yeah," he said, "There are more."

Larry locked the door and pulled the shade again. "We need to be quiet. They can't know we're here."

"We don't know anything about them." Miles shook his head, "We have a car. We need to go. This might only be happening here. We have to get to safety."

"Yeah?" Archer asked, "And what if we pile into the car and then get surrounded by them? What then?"

"We run 'em over."

"How many of them?"

"We've only seen a few at a time. They aren't walking around in big mobs."

"How do you know?"

Sally re-entered the room and stared at the two men.

"You have a car right?" Miles asked, exasperation in his voice.

"We need to stay put right now," Sally told him.

"See, I disagree."

"I've told you the door's right there. You don't have to stay. I recommend it but I'm not going to force you."

"They're out there," Miles told her, "How are we safe here?"

"There are tons of them downtown." Sally assured him.

"We-"

"Walk out of here if you'd like," she said more firmly, staring directly at him this time, "But you're not taking my vehicle." Sally continued to stare at Miles for an extra second, ready to respond if he said anything else and then turned to Archer. She eyed the blood on his clothes and the baseball bat in his hand.

"There was one on the back deck," he told her. "It was making all sorts of noise. Tripped over your grill."

"The tub's filled with water," Sally told him, "Go wash up and then we have to talk."

Miles stared at Archer as if hew as hiding something. "Talk about what?"

Archer looked back at him, and then to Jen and Larry. "The bite on Lance's arm."

"What about it?" Larry asked. Horror plagued his features as he already anticipated what was about to be said.

Sally looked down at the floor and made sure the boys weren't within an earshot. She lowered her voice. "I saw it down at the firehouse this morning," she explained, "When someone gets bitten they become feverish."

"And..." Larry leaned forward, awaiting the final verdict that would provide them with Lance's fate.

"And then they turn... into one of those things."

"Maybe the kid just has a fever," Miles argued.

Sally looked at him and then to Archer. She held up the thermometer. "His temperature is already up to 108."

 

The six of them stood by silently, each flashing looks in the direction of one another until Miles finally spoke.

"Should we maybe ask him to... go outside?" he looked around, fixing his eyes on Archer last.

"What the hell did you just say?" He took a step in Miles's direction.

"You know I'm a little sick of your tough guy bullshit."

Archer shook his head. As badly as he wanted to engage in the argument that was brewing he stopped himself in knowing there were greater things at stake. When he turned back to Sally and discontinued the exchange of words between himself and Miles, she sighed and her shoulders relaxed.

"If something is going to happen to that kid his parents need to know," Archer told her. He pulled out his dead cell phone and then shoved it back into his pocket.

"None of the phones are working Archer," Sally explained. She shook her head. "I would say we try to get him to a hospital, but-"

"Nothing is functioning anymore," Miles finished. "We know, we've heard it. Are we just supposed to take your word for it?"

"You've seen it," Sally reminded him. Their heads all turned in unison when there was another clatter from outside. She turned back to Miles. "What's out there... is everywhere... by the dozens or more."

"No chance for a hospital?" Archer asked.

She sighed and looked around the empty house. "I've got two vehicles. One of them is unregistered but I don't think anyone will be checking for registrations today... or tomorrow." Sally looked up at him, "You're welcome to take one and try to get him to the hospital but I'm telling you..." She shook her head again, "There's not much left down there."

"I'm in," Miles said immediately, "I need to get home."

"You're not taking my car anywhere other than the hospital," Sally told him. She shook her head. "It's not to go joyriding in."

"Joyriding?" Miles huffed a laugh, "Lady, I'm trying to get home."

"Well I can offer you a roof... but that's about it. Anything else you'll need to do on your own." She cleared her throat and headed back toward the hallway, "Excuse me."

Archer looked to Larry, who sat with his elbow bent on top of his knee and his hand over his mouth. "What do you think?" he asked.

Larry sighed through his nose. "A part of me wants to go take that kid in... try to find some medical personel." He shook his head, "But if she says things are gone, then I'd say they're done. You saw the cop on the interstate. He was fleeing the scene."

"What are we supposed to do stay here in this little cabin forever?" Miles asked.

Archer ignored him. "Do we try?" he asked Larry, "The kid's going to die here."

"He's going to die anyway," Larry said quietly.

"We don't know that."

He stared intently at Archer, "Arch...I believe it. I believe it because I've seen it... so have you. Sally seems like she's seen even more than us." Larry paused and scratched the back of his head, "That boy was bitten, and I'm no genius but I'm not having a difficult time connecting the dots."

"So you believe it then?" he asked, "You believe that the bite-"

"The bite's a death sentence," Larry confirmed in his own mind. "It'll only be a matter of time before..." He shook his head.

Archer sighed and put his hands on his hips. He stood there thinking for a moment and then trailed Sally down the hallway, catching her halfway as she was coming back toward them from the bedroom.

"Do you want it?" she asked quietly, "The car?"

Archer could see the fear in her eyes from just asking the question. "Is there really no chance?" he whispered.

Sally closed her eyes for a moment and then reopened them. "I'm a firefighter," she disclosed again, "I'm in a field where saving people and helping people is a priority. It's my life." Her lips pressed together in a tight line and she continued, "If I thought there was any chance to help him I would go with you... gladly. I've gone into burning buildings. I've climbed a cliff at midnight in the rain to rescue someone. I've risked my life to save people more times than I can count. But going down there is a suicide mission... and from what I've witnessed with my own eyes there is no way to save someone once they've been bitten by an infected person."

Archer leaned a hand on the wall and looked down the hallway toward the open bedroom door where the faintest glow of candles flickered off the walls and trickled into the hallway.


"His fever rose again," Sally explained, "I just checked it."

"What's it at?"

"110." She swallowed hard, "I gave him the strongest meds that I have to try to keep him comfortable."

"Can you live with a temperature that high?" Archer asked her.

Sally looked him in the eye and shook her head. "No." She pushed her hair back and mirrored his position with her hand on the wall.

"So, he's slowly dying?"

She shook her head. "No... he's slowly turning."