The Vermilion Strain Read online

  He’d have to pick up clothing for Cooper, long term clothing. He could swing by a few clothing stores and stock up. He’d also need to pick up a few things for himself as well. He’d have to plan for wear and tear and no way to replace it once the gas was gone and he was stuck in one place. So many things to think about and plan for. He’d need to get it right the first time, there was little room for error. He pulled out his case and put the Mossberg in. He pulled out boxes of shells and stacked them on his work bench. He also pulled the cleaning kit and set aside. He’d need to get more oil and brushes and bores. He couldn’t afford to let his weapons get dirty.

  He turned when he heard the soft steps on the wooden stairs. Coop was sitting above, looking down with curiosity.

  “Come on down Cooper, I’ll show you my hunting rifles. You must never touch these without permission, but when you get older, I’ll teach you how to use them.”

  Cooper came down and stood beside Brian, his eyes large.

  “Wow.” He said in his childish voice. Brian grinned.

  “Wow indeed. We’re going to be leaving soon, we’re going to go on a long camping trip. How do you like that?”

  “Oh, I like that daddy, I like that a lot!” Cooper grinned up at Brian. Brian ruffled the blond head.

  TWO

  Flynn was starving. He’d not left his apartment; his fear was so great that he could not bring himself to leave after his first venture out. Now, he had no choice. He dug around in his closet and found a backpack. He was going to have to leave and find food and water. He also dug up several bandanas, he’d tie those around his face, to block out the awful stench. From his window, he’d seen the progressive decomposition of the bodies around his apartment. He’d also seen more animals. A herd of zebra had run past his building two days ago. It was such a shock and he’d found himself laughing, which had turned to crying.

  He’d have to take the stairs but he’d bring his flashlight this time. His apartment was like an oven and he’d gone through all the water he’d found in the other apartments. He’d even gone so far as to take water from the toilet tanks.

  He wished he’d had a hazmat suit, but no such luck. He walked out into the living room, and he gritted his teeth as he walked to the front door, clutching his car keys in hand. He had to get food or die. Making his way down the stairs, the light from the flashlight, bounced off the walls of the stairwell, his foot falls echoing. The smell of putrefaction was muffled behind the bandana, but he could still smell it. He walked out onto the street, squinting his eyes in the bright light. He quickly walked along Lancaster avenue, to where he’d last parked his car. Averting his eyes from the bodies that littered the street, he moved around unrecognizable lumps and piles of vile things. He could still smell the fug of rot and ruin. It was like a heavy coat, covering his body, his skin, his hair.

  His eyes searched upwards at the buildings and apartments. He looked for faces behind the windows, but saw none. The hair rose on his body, at the thought of people looking down on him. His once vibrant city was now silent. He no longer heard horns from traffic, nor buses. The streets were empty, but for the lumps and trash that blew about in abandon. He could hear flies and there were massive swarms, hovering over the bodies. Flynn kept his eyes averted. His flesh shivered, like the flanks on a horse, rippling from the revulsion.

  Getting into his Honda Civic, he held his breath as he turned the key. He wasn’t sure if the battery was still good, it was an old one. The car had been his father’s and his father had given it to him. It was nearly rusted out, but it had been a reliable ride. Letting out a sigh when the engine turned over, Flynn pulled out and headed east, figuring Whole Foods was his best bet. Maybe he’d grab a cart and fill it to the rim so he’d not have to venture out again for a while. Being outside gave him the creeps. Between the stench and the apocalyptic scenery, he’d just as soon avoid it all, not to mention the friggen tiger that was roaming around somewhere. Once more, he thought of a weapon. Once he got what he needed, he’d hunker down for a while.

  He’d lost track of time; had it been well over a month since this all started? Or just a few weeks? He thought about the first reports of the virus. He’d seen only one news alert that had mentioned South Korea having patient zero. Had North Korea started this mess? But then China had victims popping up and that was when the media went wild with accusations from China. Then the United States started firing back accusations. Within only hours, cases of the Vermilion Strain were popping up all over the world at the same time. Was it a strategic attack? Flynn wondered, was it China or was it North Korea, or was it the United States? He wouldn’t put it past his own government.

  In short order, he arrived at Whole Foods. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but not many. He watched as an Andean condor landed on a body. It must have come from the zoo. Jesus Christ. He looked around, fearing a lion or tiger would jump him. He saw nothing move. He didn’t see anyone or anything other than the condor. Sitting in his car, his blue eyes scanned the surrounding area for movement. Bodies, or what was left of them, were scattered around, like trash that littered the ground. If he could hold up long enough, maybe most of it would be gone on his next venture out. He’d thought about swinging by Cramer’s place, but didn’t want to know for sure, that his best friend was dead. He wanted to remember Cramer as the laughing and lively man he was. Cramer was a jokester as well as a prankster. He’d been the victim more than once of one of Cramer’s pranks, as had Roger. A soft smile creased his face. Maybe he should go by Xandra’s apartment? Maybe she already left the city? Maybe she was already dead.

  Turning off the engine, he sighed heavily. His hands were clammy and his stomach growled in anticipation of eating. He’d gone through the unoccupied apartments and taken all the food. The apartments with dead bodies, he’d just left alone. Perhaps he just wanted to get out of the apartment and see if there was food out there. He knew he was being foolish, but he needed to get out and see what was left of his world. Getting out of the car, he once more scanned around him for movement. Nothing. He didn’t even see dogs. Would the tigers eat the dogs before people? He’d seen a lot of dogs lately, but at least here, there were none.

  He walked toward the building and stopped to get a shopping cart. Going around to the front, he pushed through the glass front doors. The light was filtered and the store was darker toward the back. He could smell the rot of produce and flesh. Was it human? Or was it the meat department? He slowly advanced, his head on a swivel. He should have brought the flashlight; he’d left it in the car. He could have kicked himself.

  “Stop!” Someone shouted from the back.

  Flynn’s heart slammed into his throat and his legs nearly gave out. He clung to the cart, trying to discern the figure in the dark.

  “Get out of here, this is the property of Casper.” The disembodied voice announced.

  “What? Casper who? The friggen ghost?” Flynn barked with hysterical laughter, his heart still beating wildly. Sweat was running down his back and off his face. He tried to blinked it away and he wiped angrily at his face. His eyes flitted around but he could not see the person speaking to him.

  “Casper runs this area, man. Get out or I got orders to shoot.”

  “What? Hey, there’s plenty of food and I’m starving. At least let me get some.”

  “No way, Casper will have my ass. Get out of here.”

  “God damn it! I’m hungry. And I’m gonna…” Flynn was interrupted by a gunshot and he jerked back, shocked. His arm burned and he looked down. He’d been grazed by the bullet.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” He screamed, clutching his arm.

  “I told you, Casper owns this place. Get the hell out of here.” The man screamed back. Flynn turned and ran out of the store, clutching his arm. Looking over his shoulder, he tripped over a pile of gooey bones and went sprawling, the condor, ten feet away, took flight and he could feel the breeze from the flapping of massive wings, the stench of death roiling over him. S
creaming in fear and rage, Flynn got back up to his feet and staggered to his car. He pulled out and peeled away from the store. His hands shook badly on the steering wheel. He turned left on Hampstead Circle, and headed to Sang Kee Bistro, he hoped there would be food there. Pulling in, he exited the vehicle and went to the front and looked in. There was a man with a gun looking back out at him.

  “This place is Casper’s property. Get the hell out of here.” The man shouted, aiming the gun. Flynn stared in frustration and disbelief. What in the hell, had this Casper bastard taken over the whole city? Getting back into his car, he pulled away. He’d go to another store. Christ. He didn’t think it would be so hard to get food. There weren’t many people left, but it would seem there were two assholes and a Casper.

  He exited onto King road, heading east and drove until he arrived at another Whole Foods supermarket. His arm was throbbing with each heartbeat. Getting out, he was more cautious now. He gritted his teeth; each movement of his arm was painful. He walked toward the store front and looked inside. He didn’t see anyone standing near the doors. Cautiously, he opened the front door. He listened intently, but heard nothing.

  “Hello? Anyone here? I’m coming in, just to get a few things.” He announced loudly. His arm throbbed, his head pounded and his gut hurt.

  “Stop. This store is Casper’s property!” A man called from back inside the store.

  Flynn cursed. How could one person take over everything? How in the hell was he supposed to eat?

  “Has Casper got every store? How in the hell am I supposed to survive?” Flynn yelled.

  “Not my problem. If you want to join Casper’s crew, you’ll need to go see him. If he lets you join, you can eat. Otherwise, he’ll shoot you.” The man called.

  “That’s crazy, man.”

  “Hey, that’s the world we live in now. If I were you, I’d get the hell out of town. Casper is going through every building in this city, one at a time and taking what he wants. He’s got a good-sized army now. Mister, if you’re smart, you’ll get outta here, or you’ll join him.”

  “Where the hell am I supposed to go? Christ, there’s plenty of food to go around. I’m pretty sure there aren’t many people left.”

  “You stick around, and he’ll kill you. I’m telling you man, he’s a bad dude. And he’s got assholes that work for him, that guard him. He ain’t no one to screw around with.”

  “Fine, then at least let me get some food, to last me until I can get out of this place.”

  “Can’t man. The store has already been inventoried. If anything comes up missing, they’ll kill me and not in a fast way with a bullet. Casper skins people who don’t do what he tells’em. Like I said, get the hell out of this place if you want to live. Otherwise, you take your chances with Casper.”

  Flynn shook his head. When had this Casper asshole taken over Philadelphia? How in the hell can one man do that? Had he been shut away so long that some scum bag took over? Where in the hell could he go? He walked out to his car and got in. His head was hurting and his arm burned. He was sure the air wasn’t good for the open wound. He pulled away and drove toward home. He stopped at a gas station and went in. The shelves were empty of all food. There were a few things on the ground. He found a box of antibiotic cream and picked it up. The box had part of a shoe print on it.

  He walked around and picked up bits and pieces that littered the floor. He got down on his knees when he saw a candy bar under the shelf. He reached under and pulled it out. Peeling the paper, he bit into it. He sighed, eating it slowly. He sat on the floor of the station and looked around him. How was he going to survive? His lips trembled and he tried not to cry. His life had turned into some crazy-ass nightmare. He wiped angrily at the tears that began to seep out. He saw a road atlas on the floor and reached over to pick it up. He flipped open the book and looked at it. He’d never been good at reading maps. He had a GPS for that. He wasn’t sure his GPS still worked. He flipped the pages and thought. Where could he go?

  Maybe Lancaster, where the Amish lived. Would the Amish take him in? He’d be willing to work for his food. At least there wouldn’t be an asshole like Casper there, at least he hoped there wouldn’t be. Finishing the candy bar, Flynn stood. He would go back to his apartment and pack up his things. He’d have to go through the other occupied apartments and get food. Christ, he’d have to see those dead bodies. He’d have to breathe that horrible air. He hoped he could find enough to last him a while, in case the Amish weren’t as hospitable as he hoped. It was only about an hour and a half drive to Lancaster. He sighed once more, his arm hurting badly and his stomach hurt too. That bastard had almost killed him. First the Vermilion virus, now this. In a world that had gone to hell, where was the compassion?

  Ӝ

  Emma finished cramming everything she could into the back of the truck cab. Buddy was waiting for her, his tongue hanging out to the side. He was in the passenger’s seat. It had taken her three hours to locate the keys to the blue truck. She’d gone from apartment to apartment looking for truck keys. As it turned out, the keys were located a block away, in the second-floor apartment of a colonial. The apartment stunk badly and she knew the occupants were dead in their beds. She’d gathered up supplies from the cupboards and had left the place behind. Luckily, the gas tank was full. It was a six-hour drive to Lancaster.

  If she needed gas, she had two small gas cans. She also had a hose, and hoped she’d not have to use it. In the back of the truck bed, she had supplies as well, shoved into big black plastic bags and taped up boxes. They were tied together to keep them from flying out of the back of the truck. She didn’t need a map. She’d driven home many times over the past three years. She stood on the running board on the driver’s side and looked around the place. She could see columns of smoke in different directions. Perhaps someone was burning the bodies. Good, that would help keep down disease.

  There had been increased gunfire over the last couple days. Moving closer to her area. She ducked down into the truck and started it. Looking over at Buddy, she smiled. She pulled out onto the street and began to navigate her way out of Jamaica Plain. She’d always taken a rental car home; she didn’t need a car in Boston, nor had she wanted one. Boston had great public transportation, besides, driving here was a nightmare. Now, she was heading home in a big, badass pickup. At least she didn’t have to worry about traffic. She’d not seen any vehicles driving on her street for days.

  Within twenty minutes, she was on the Massachusetts turnpike and headed westward. Her eyes scanned ahead. There were a few abandoned vehicles, but not many. It was eerie seeing no movement on the road. She saw more columns of smoke in the distance and she looked down into abandoned neighborhoods as she passed above them in several areas. Once she got onto I90, the housing developments began to thin out. She could feel the tension between her shoulders begin to relax. She’d lived in a constant state of fear and anxiety since the first cases rolled into Mass Gen.

  She rolled her head and bent and flexed her neck. Looking over to Buddy, she smiled. The dog was looking out the window. She was going too fast to roll down the window. Maybe when they came to a place that where she was a lot farther away, she’d do it. For now, she just wanted out of this area. When she got to New Haven, she planned on cutting west. There was no way she was going anywhere near New York or Philadelphia. Escaping one large city for another wasn’t her idea of smart. There was no telling what kinds of hells were in those cities.

  Once she got near Allentown, she’d drop down toward the southwest. She slowed her vehicle down, wanting to take a short break and do a little target practice. She wanted Buddy to also sniff around and go potty. She’d also give him water. She pulled over to the shoulder. A car was ahead of her, abandoned on the side of the road. Reaching into a backpack, she pulled out a black sharpie. She’d draw a target onto the back of the car’s trunk. Stepping around to the driver’s side of the abandoned car, she checked to make sure a body wasn’t decomposing inside. Look
ing around, there were only fields and stands of trees in the distance.

  It was peaceful and she heard nothing but birds that flitted through the high grass that ran along the turnpike. Invisible insects droned in low conversations. Opening the car, she popped the trunk. She checked the visor, but there were no keys in the car. Her gas cans were full and she’d only used a quarter tank, so she didn’t need any gas from this car. Opening the trunk, she found that it was empty. The previous owner had simply abandoned the car. Looking over, she saw Buddy sniffing around and marking small clumps of grass.

  “Make sure you pee on every single one. Yeesh, dogs.” She muttered to herself. Closing the trunk, she then drew several bullseyes on it, then she went back to her truck. She didn’t know if the gunshots would startle Buddy or not.

  “Come on Buddy, get back in the truck. I don’t want you running off. She lifted the dish of water and placed it in the footwell on the passenger’s side. The dog jumped up and she shut the door. Going back around to her side, she withdrew the Sig Sauer. Once more, she looked around, bringing her hand up to her eyes to shade them. She could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her. Taking a deep breath, her nostrils flared, she didn’t detect the rotting noisome stench of the city. That was good. In the distance, she heard the strident call of a blue jay. It was almost otherworldly here. Turning in a circle, she looked around her. Alone. Would that be her life? Living alone?

  That thought caused tears to suddenly come to her eyes. She wiped at them angrily.

  “Don’t be a baby.” She hissed at herself. Clearing her throat, she went in front of the truck. Taking a standard shooting stance, the one her ex-husband had taught her, she brought her weapon up. Aiming carefully, she shot a single round. Missed. She looked over her shoulder at Buddy, he was watching her intently, but didn’t seemed frightened. Good. Turning back, she refocused and aimed once more, trying to relax her shoulders. She fired once more, this time, closer to the target. The third shot was well within the circles she drew and she grinned.