Alpha-4

The static from the radio crackled like a fireplace inside the house of Robert and Norma Salazar. The husband and wife sat next to each other patiently listening for any type of signal from the outside. It had been 2 years in the couple’s twenty-five year marriage since they had heard from anyone but themselves. Each night as a tradition they would sit together in old reclining chairs in front of their windup radio and surf the airways for a sign of life. Without illuminating the house from the inside, the pair would light candles to be sure they wouldn’t become a beacon for the undead to hone in on.

“Do you ever think we are going to pick up a signal?” asked Norma.

“I hope and pray that we do dear, but even if we don’t this routine will help us keep our sanity” assured Robert. The aged gentleman had retired from the Cuyahoga county prison almost 5 years before the Event. He had seen many prisoners succumb to their own minds due to lack of routine. He knew that this was going to be the only way that he and his wife would survive. Robert glanced at his wife from his worn down chair with caring eyes, wishing that he could have given her more in life. He wanted to grow old with her from the day they met. He wanted to provide for her every need, pay every bill and live a long peaceful life with his one true love. Now all he wanted to do was to keep her safe, alive and with him.

The radio crackled as Robert scanned through each channel. He then switched to the AM setting and began to scroll from the beginning of the numbers to the end.

“…if you…this…have safety…west to….beautiful”

Robert’s eyes lit up like a child at his own birthday party. He looked at Norma and she too was silent in shock. “I can’t find the channel” Robert panicked as he turned the dial so fast on the radio that it almost broke off. He picked up the small radio and held it to his ears. “Did you hear what I did?” he asked as if irritated at the thought of going insane. “I did honey, it was a voice. It sounded like an angel”.

The thought of life still existing out there, in all-the void was almost too much to take in. Robert set down his radio and leaned back in his chair cupping his hands together, he did this when he was thinking, Norma enjoyed watching him think. She knew that she would be safe with her husband. Knowing that every decision he made was with her best interest in mind. Norma was a small woman who looked much younger than her 52 years let on. Robert on the other hand was much larger than Norma and engulfed her like a blanket when he wrapped his arms around her. That is when she felt safest.

Robert rose from his chair, paced around the room a few times and knelt down next to his wife. He took her hands into his “if there is someone out there, we will find them. Everything’s going to be ok babe, I promise”. With that he stood up and kissed her forehead. “I’m going to bed, we will try again tomorrow”. Norma lifted herself out of her chair and followed Robert through the living room of their home to the stairway. Just as they began to climb the stairs together Robert stopped dead in his tracks. “Shh” he whispered. Norma looked at Robert puzzled at why he stopped and then she heard the noise too.

It came from outside the house, directly in front of the boarded up bay window in the living room. It sounded like scratching or rustling in the branches planted beneath the window. There hadn’t been any sign of the undead near their home in weeks. Robert had been sure of it as he would stand lookout from the attic window every 2 hours during the daytime. Even with the house completely secured and no indication of life on the inside Robert never trusted the walking dead.

Norma rushed to the living room to blow out the candles they had lit only hours before. She then grabbed a flashlight from the mantle of the fireplace and tossed it to Robert. The lens of the light was covered in red plexi-glass as to limit the amount of light that could be seen from a distance. He quickly caught the flashlight and made for the closet just inside the front door. Grabbing his shotgun next to the umbrellas in the closet he checked it silently for ammunition. He hadn’t had to use the weapon in over a month and couldn’t remember if he had loaded it or not. Robert felt along the inside of the magazine feed and found a round still inside. Slowly and as quietly as possible he made his way to the front door.

Norma approached the door next to her husband and he signaled her to begin unlocking it. She released the chain lock and unbolted the two dead bolts that Robert had installed. Without queue she began to open the front door for Robert to see through the crack between the door and the jamb. He lifted his shotgun and peered through the opening, never moving his eyes from the barrel of his gun. The moonlight was bright enough for him to see outside without any use of his flashlight. He nodded for Norma to open the door wider and he began to creep outside onto the porch. He could hear the sound of breathing towards the end of the wooden rail, it was shallow and muffled. Robert knew the sound was familiar, he had heard it far too many times in the past. Robert inched closer to the end of the wall near where the bay window started, slowly and methodically making his way towards the breathing. With each step the breathing became louder and louder like a trapped animal awaiting the final moments of it’s life on earth. Slowly Robert peaked over the side of the porch railing looking for movement, still hearing the breathing but not seeing anything he flipped the flashlight on and beamed the red light forward. Sweat dripped from Robert’s forehead as he scanned the foliage for signs of unlife. Finger on the trigger, gently squeezing it backwards until…

“Don’t shoot!”

Startled, Robert shot off a round of shotgun shell into the siding of his house, missing the boarded up window by inches. “Who are you?” Robert demanded as he stared at the man crouched in front of him, arms in surrender.
“I’m Andrew. Thanks for missing”.

Alpha-3

Doctor Richfield had barely escaped his death as he ran out the door of the treatment room.  He watched in horror with Mr. and Mrs. Syrafax as their recently deceased son was now ripping apart what remained of the four doctors and nurses left in the treatment room.  Philip had managed to bite the cheek of one nurse and immediately sink his teeth into the left arm of a doctor who was trying to restrain him.  As the doctor and parents watched Philip tear his way through the bitten doctor, the bleeding nurse lunged at the window of the treatment room screaming for help, smearing blood on the shatter-proof glass.  “Should we help them?” asked Mrs. Syrafax who was unable to take her eyes off of the horror before her.  “I don’t believe it’s wise for any of us to go inside there right now ma’am” explained the doctor.  The sight was sickening to the crowd that had gathered outside of the treatment room watching unblinkingly at everything that was happening.  No one had ever seen something like this the atmosphere was damp with silence.  Not one person reacted in a way they considered normal as the shock had set in to their brains and bodies.  Everyone was eerily calm considering the chaos in the next room.

Philip had finished clawing and biting his way through the hospital staff left in that room, when he finished destroying them he just sat down in the midst of all of the gore and stared at his parents and doctor.  His eyes were a deep indigo color while his flesh had taken on a very bleached white, almost transparent, to the point where you could see all the veins in his body, a sickly maroon color like a tapestry of death.  As Philip sat there, quietly on the floor he tilted his head much like a dog listing to a far away whistle, staring intently at the outside of the room.  Tears streamed from the eyes of Mrs. Syrafax, as the truth had finally set in.  Her son was no longer alive, not in the sense that she had known it before.  The thing that sat before her and her husband was a creature that no one had ever seen.  She knew deep down that this event would change the world forever.

Alpha-2

            “Just shut up alright?”

            “You don’t have to be rude ya know. I understand what we are doing, I am just saying that I don’t think Jason would have had these problems”.

            “You don’t even know if Jason exists okay? For all we know he could just be a myth to tell your children in order to give them hope of a new life”.

            “Yeah, and all the world is okay.  In fact the world isn’t over at all, it’s just on standby right.  We aren’t even here, we are just dreaming all of this”.

            “Just be quiet for a few more minutes then we can argue over the existence of a fictional “Hero of the New Land””.

            As Andrew and James watched through the small peek hole in the side of the wall three undead “walkers” lumbered by.  By their looks, two of them were adults probably in their early thirties.  They were recently reanimated by the way their skin was still relatively intact.  The tallest one had a six-inch gash in his chest that was visible through his black and red flannel shirt while the shorter adult was missing a piece of his skull.  The third undead was most likely a teenaged boy at one time, struggling to keep in-step with the older two.  His right foot was missing completely and he had quite a bit of damage on his left hand.  From far away Andrew could tell that he was missing 3 of his fingers.

            The undead didn’t seem to notice the two living men who were only thirty meters from their position.  It seemed that only during a good wind the undead could pick up a scent from that far.  As experienced in the past three years since the “Event” Andrew had learned to keep his distance as much as possible.  He had lost far too many partners to carelessness and underestimation of the undead and their abilities.  Even now during scavenging operations Andrew didn’t like to take any chances with being in close proximity of anyone without a pulse.  Noise too was a factor.  Andrew knew that the undead didn’t have the keenest of hearing ability but that some noise was definitely noticed by the walkers as proven during his last outing from the camp. 

            “Alright they are far enough away, let’s go”, Andrew ordered James.

            The two men took off running from behind their wall of safety to the adjacent side of the street.  As they took cover behind an abandoned car James kept lookout down the road in the direction of the three undead.  They were only ten feet from the entrance to the 7/11 but Andrew didn’t like to bombard any new building without first scouting out the insides from all of the entrances.  He tapped James on the back and ducked down as he ran to the side door.  Andrew listened intently for any sounds on the inside of the store.  Usually if there were any walkers inside they could be heard rummaging around through the produce looking for any type of fresh sustenance.  Andrew had seen the undead eat anything from spoiled meat to the occasional dog and cat.  It never surprised him anymore, as the human food supply shortened the undead would eat anything they could find whether it was living or just recently alive.

            The coast was clear as Andrew signaled to James via hand movement.  James left his lookout post and jogged over to the side entrance with Andrew.  “I’m going to peek inside, just don’t go anywhere” said Andrew.  He opened the door slowly and stuck his head in through the cracked door.  The 7/11 was in shambles on the inside as food and trash was strewn about on the floor.  It was hard to tell if the walkers had made their way through the store or if it had just been vandalized in the few months after the “Event”.  During the first few months of chaos it was not uncommon to find thieves looting stores and marking graffiti on the inside and outside walls.  Mostly only money and products of value were stolen in order to be resold.  No one had thought to steal canned goods and preserved food items, Andrew supposed that everyone thought that things would be back to normal in a short amount of time.  Three years later, as Andrew and James stood inside a run down convenience store they both understood that there was no going back to the good ol’ days.

            The two men made their way through the store grabbing cans of soup and canned meat.  They filled their rucksacks with all they could carry including some bottled soap and shampoo.  It was easy to get sick if you didn’t stay clean, though running water was hard to come by any chance you had to bathe was never a missed opportunity.  Every building now-adays smelled rotten, from the overgrowth of mold to the rotting leftovers, foul smells were a part of every day life.  It was something that all the survivors had grown accustomed to.  It wasn’t that you didn’t try to live in some sort of sanitary environment, it was just the fact that there weren’t any sanitary places to stay any more.  Professional upkeep was something that had been taken for granted in the many years of life before the “Event”.  No one ever thanked the janitors or the maintenance men who worked long and hard hours keeping everything from going to waste.  Now it would have been a dream come true to find a place where life went on like it used to.

            When the men finished their shopping they left the building the same way they had come in.  Andrew never trusted the exit to be clear even if there were no undead in-sight before they had entered.  He sent James to the door to verify it was safe to leave, James looked outside and signaled that it was clear.  As they made their way across the street the sun was just beginning to rise.  Even in the midst of chaos the beauty of a sunrise or sunset was always appreciated. It was a macabre picture to be able to stare at the horizon and see such beauty preceded with such destruction.  The suburban Cleveland streets were decimated by years of neglect.  Houses that once stood pristine with well groomed yards and the typical white picket fences were now overgrown and shattered much like the will of those who had survived the infection.

            “So back to what I was saying” James stated.  “I heard from Sarah that Jason had once cleared an entire building full of infected with just a baseball bat.  She said that he was on a mission to find some sort of biological testing devices to find a cure for the virus”.

            “Ah, so you’re telling me that one single man, ran through a whole building with nothing but a piece of carved wood, bashed the heads of a ton of walkers and then strolled right out with what he was looking for, unharmed?”

            “That’s exactly what I am saying!” exclaimed James with such conviction that Andrew didn’t want to tell him how much he didn’t believe him.

            “Well if we ever have a chance to meet this Jason guy, I will be sure to ask him about his slugfest with the walkers”.

            “You know it! I bet Jason has a plan to fix all of this, I even heard he was going to be building some sort of fortress for everyone to live in like we used to”.  Andrew just shrugged.  The two men had arrived at the safe house.  The building used to be a commercial office space, seated between a long since rundown Baskin and Robbins and Subway.  There was never any sign of life to their dwelling, Andrew ensured it was that way, he had boarded up all of the windows and secured each entrance with four locks of various make and model.  James walked up to the front door, which didn’t look like much of a door at all, placed his full rucksack on the ground and knocked 3 times.  That was the signal for those inside to know it was someone familiar at the door, there was a make-shift slot in the wood that one could see through but it wasn’t always easy to see who was there especially since the undead liked to bang on doors and windows in attempt to pass through or attack someone.  Outside of the building the sound of locks unbolting could be heard by James and Andrew.  As the final lock was turned the door opened cautiously and out popped Sarah’s head.

Alpha: 1

Philip Syrafax lay in his hospital bed, tubes strung in and around his body seventy-six pounds lighter today than he was six weeks ago.  What started as a simple flu had morphed it’s way to a life-threatening disease.  Doctors scrambled around him, some looking at charts while others stood in bewilderment at the body that rested before them.  At sixteen years old Philip was once at the peak of his existence.  He was the star shortstop for his high school baseball team, president of his sophomore class and genuinely an all around good kid.  Philip rarely even caught a common cold let alone a life-changing disease.  His parents couldn’t understand what could have happened to him.  He was always taking his vitamins and washing his hands, a bit of an obsessive-compulsive child they would chide him.  Now what lay before them was a shadow of their once healthy son.

            “What we do know is that Philip’s body is fighting with everything it has available to it’s immune system” Doctor Richfield told his parents.  “It appears that what started as the flu has evolved rapidly and joined itself with a common form of syphilis”.

            “Syphilis?” asked Mr. Syrafax.  “But Philip wasn’t even sexually active that we know”.

            “It’s possible that Philip could have contracted syphilis through contact with someone who has it even if he did not engage in any type of sexual activity.  For example if Philip had any open sores or wounds and those had been exposed to the bodily fluids of another person carrying the bacteria it could have been passed on in that manner”.

            “Well at least that is semi-comforting” said Mrs. Syrafax. “The real question is if he is going to pull through this?”

            “Our doctors are doing all that they can for Philip Mrs. Syrafax, if there is any change to his condition we promise to let you and your husband know right away”.

            As if on queue Philip’s heart rate monitor began to ring in alarm.  Doctors rushed to his side to discover that his heart rate was decreasing rapidly.  Doctor Richfield turned to Philip’s parents and told them they were going to have to wait outside.

            “What’s going on?” Mr. Syrafax demanded.

            “Not now sir, we need to get Philip stabilized.”

            Mr. and Mrs. Syrafax watched through the window of the medical treatment room as doctors and nurses rushed back and forth around Philips body.  They watched as his heart rate slowed to a stop.  They watched as doctors tried to resuscitate him with a defibrillator.

            They watched the doctors called his time of death.

            They watched as Philip’s eyes reopened…

Alpha

For those first visiting this site, my intentions are to share with you an experience of zombie fiction that I think will change the way you see things.  I have always been a fan of zombies ever since the black and white version of Night of the Living Dead by George Romero.  I have continued my pursuit for zombie entertainment for years, enjoying every iteration and interpretation of zombies that authors have been giving us from running zombies, to slow aimless walking undead, to powerful free thinking zombies the likes of David Wellington.  Please enjoy my story, please feel free to email me at zombietale@gmail.com.
-Drew Koehler