Ignored by Omega

I wanted to say something, but she cut me off.

"You can come with us. Just follow our truck."

"Thank you I blurted out. Could I use your bathroom?"

I was in there shaking the last drops when I heard the shot. Startled, I rushed out and saw the woman at the door yelling at her husband to get back in the house. The lighting outside was dim, but I could see three figures advancing on the driveway and one on the ground motionless. Her husband raised his rifle and shot the closest one to him, but it kept coming. The man whose name I have forgotten shot again and this time connected with the infected woman's head. She dropped instantly. By now the woman at the door had raised her gun and was aiming at another infected who was advancing on her husband. He was backing up as the deranged man raised his arms and growled in a lunge.

The woman's shot missed his head, but it hit "its" neck. The husband raised the long gun and shot the infected man in the face. I would have ran back in the house, but the man went back out and that was when two more infected people came out of the shadows. They fell on him from both sides and before he could fire, they were biting him all over. His wife was screaming as I dragged her inside and shut the door. Her screams turned to sobs and she sat on the floor repeating the man's name over and over.

I tried to console her. But the last thing she needed after she witnessed the gruesome death of her husband was a stranger saying things would be OK. In the end, stating the obvious had a more productive effect.

"You are still alive. Be thankful. We have to survive this and get out of town."

After I said it, I thought it sounded so... so what? Bland. Soulless. Cold.

She sobbed again and then stopped for a short while anyway.

The night was frantic. I could hear shots and sirens. Screams. A lot of screams; far away and closer to the house. The screams of kids were the worse. The woman's name was Ingrid. I left her alone for a few minutes and took stock of the house. It was secure. Both doors were solid. I checked the basement, her gun constantly in my hand.

The windows had glass block. Safe, but also no way for us to get out if we had to from the basement. The garage was closed and empty. I noticed there was luggage in it and some plastic jugs full of gasoline stacked together. That would have to go with us. But the luggage was not important. Later I would realize how everything in the plague world was important.

By morning, she stopped crying and listened to me as I told her that we had to go. I had seen more infected go by, but also cops and some soldiers. None had stopped and all looked crazed and scared.

"Ingrid. We have to go. We have to get that gasoline to your truck and bring my car in the garage so I can siphon the gas out of it."

She nodded and then asked.

"Have you seen him?"

I had earlier when what was left of him had been on the driveway. But now the driveway was empty.

"He is gone," was about all I was able to say. And surprisingly she just nodded. She went to the window to look out, but I stopped her. I had closed the blinds so we would not be seen.

"It's not safe."

Just then she stared at me and spoke in a low tone.

"Come with me."

I followed her to a room that may have been a spare bedroom or study. It had a desk with a desktop computer on it, but on the other side, there was a safe. A tall safe. When she entered the combination, I realized it was a gun safe!

"My husband is a... was a hunter" she explained. He had three more rifles, two pistols, and what looked to me like an army rifle. She picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. "It's an AR15. The civilian version of an M-16. So, no automatic fire. But the other guns are just as powerful; if not more so. Get them all, you never know what we will need."

We stacked them in the garage by the gas cans and then she went to the kitchen to gather food. I brought all the ammunition to the garage and checked outside. The bodies of the infected were there, but other than that no motion.

Cautiously, we went outside, and she covered me with the AR as I backed the truck up to the garage. We opened the garage door and I started tossing stuff on the truck bed and cab. The guns and ammo went in the back seats. She tossed in two sleeping bags, a set of tools, and a duffel bag before I drove the truck out on the grass by the front door. My car was backed in the garage next. Afterward, I learned the hard way that siphoning gas is not as easy as it was on TV. They only had a five-gallon plastic jug left to fill, so the rest we reluctantly left behind.

I took the few things I had brought, then we closed the garage door. After a last run to the bathroom for us both, we went to the front door. Peeking past the curtains we saw movement down the street. Then heard shrieks. We looked at each other and nodded. We had to go.

Ingrid opened the door and covered me as I ran to the truck far side and the driver seat. She turned, locked the door, and ran to the passenger seat. I noticed she taped a note on the door. I never asked her what it said.

Once we locked the doors and started the engine, we drove off toward the highway. The road was littered with stalled or burning vehicles and... bodies. One was stuck under a truck. We looked away.

I debated calling Sharon's number, but Ingrid told me not to. Instead, she called her family and told them she was safe and driving out. She lost it again when she told them what had happened to her husband. She was still in semi shock. And would be for some time. But my mind was on the living.

We didn't get far. In the middle of the next intersection, there was an accident. A white minivan with the side door open and a green SUV. Infected were milling about and trying to get to the back of the minivan. Even with the windows up, I could hear screams. A shot was fired, and an infected woman fell out of the open minivan door. But others took her place.

I looked for a way out when a male infected turned toward us. Ingrid screamed.

At first, I thought she was scared of the threat outside. But then I recognized the man. It was her infected husband. He was not dead. Or actually, he was. You could see ghastly wounds where the infected had bit him and torn shreds of flesh. His arm and face looked hideous. What had been her husband stared at us with wild vacant eyes as he growled.

Ingrid started repeating his name and crying... "Oh no baby, no! What did they do to you?" in between sobs.

My first instinct was to check that the doors were locked. Then I started to back up.

"We can't leave him like that" she sobbed.

"It's not him anymore," I said looking backward to back up and not hit other cars. "Nothing you can do for him now."

Dam it. Everything I was saying seemed like lines from a bad movie.

She touched my arm.

"Yes, there is."

I was about to yell at her when I realized what she meant. Her eyes were wet from crying, but her face had this sad resolve that made me understand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked watching her as she nodded.

It took me seconds to put the car in forward again and to turn so he was on my side.

"Look away, Ingrid."

But she didn't. As I pushed the button to lower the window down, she sobbed once more

"Goodbye baby. Love you forever."

I stuck the gun out and fired one shot in his face.

***

We drove in silence. Ingrid was staring ahead and rocking back and forth. Poor woman. In a few hours, her world had come undone. A plague was infecting humanity turning them into monsters. Her husband had turned in to one and I had shot him in front of her. Yet she managed to keep it together.

I was chasing my family, but they were still alive for me to chase. Her man was gone forever. What can you say that can comfort that kind of loss? 'Sorry, your husband turned into a walking ghoul. And that I had to shoot him. But hey it was your idea... so...' yeah.

We dodged accidents and packs of infected as we continued west. Police and National Guard roadblocks directed us west and out of the city. In two roadblocks we were ordered at gunpoint to open the doors and let the dogs sniff us.

In the last one, there were three cars and a truck off to the side of the road. Troops were holding back people who in distress were asking about loved ones separated and guarded by other soldiers. Probably infected that had not turned yet. Two were kids that were crying and begging for their moms.

"What are you going to do with them?" I asked meaning the parents.

"Kill them as soon as they turn, stupid," one of the soldiers said. "You want them running loose?"

"Not the infected" I corrected him, "their parents."

The two soldiers were quiet.

"It won't be pretty." The female said. "After the kids turn, we'll kill them and burn the bodies. Orders."

Ingrid started to say something, but a big black sergeant came up and started yelling.

"Get the fuck out of his roadblock".

It was for the best. I didn't want to see the kids turn and their parents having to see it. Then to witness their kids being put down. Not with me having three kids down the same road and not knowing if they were safe.

"I wish I could talk to my kids" I blurted forcing myself to focus on the road and the traffic.

"If we call and I ask about them, my parents will get suspicious. You don't want that."

She was right. I was not thinking. Fear and desperation were affecting me. Also lack of sleep and the shock of it all. We were all in near shock in those early panic days. Many died or lost families because they were still in the per-infection mindset. We still thought all this was an unreal nightmare that somehow would be fixed by... someone. There had to be a rational answer. We didn't know what was causing this. What to do. Where to go. Or how to survive.

Ingrid and I did a lot by instinct. No one told us to lower the windows before we fired. We just thought it was the thing to do. Many people got infected after they panicked and fired at the infected through the glass. Once the glass shattered to pieces the infected just reached in. The people in the cars may have killed a few more, but eventually, they had to reload or ran out of ammo and were overwhelmed. To us, it seemed like common sense.

Others stayed in infected areas way too long and were trapped. Others tried to comfort infected family members only to be bit by them and eventually turn on the rest of the family. Months and even years later, entire families were found locked in homes walking like zombies past the windows. Others drove out of town toward the east. A bad move as the entire east coast up to the Mississippi River were infected before the government, what was left of it, managed to set up a defensive line. It eventually didn't hold either, but in the crucial six weeks that it held, millions got across and survived. The further west and closest one was to the river, the most likely they were to have survived.

Cincinnati had been infected just like Chicago about the same time as the large eastern cities. The same happened in the west in Seattle, San Francisco, and Los Angeles. It was a worldwide problem that was worse in some nations than others. Sadly, the most developed nations and the most populous were hit worse than smaller undeveloped nations. And urban areas worse yet. Once the infection started, it spread, and people had nowhere to go.

And as suspected, it was the international flights that brought it in. Infected would come on board and not come out of the lavatories where they hid; then turned. Smart aircrews kept the bathrooms locked until the plane landed and the infected were "disposed" of by armed security.

In some cases, the infected would stay in the cabin only to attack others after turning. The aircraft would then become a locked tube of carnage and unspeakable horror. Few uninfected survived such flights. Not unless the pilot landed the aircraft so security forces could deal with the infestation.

In those cases, the plane would land with large numbers of infected on board. The scenes of Baghdad and Athens were recreated, and the army would try to contain them. But what they didn't count on was the fully infected airliners that would come crashing in. Sometimes a few infected would survive those crashes and roam the countryside until they found people to attack and infect.

Then there were cases of people whose infection took a long time to show. No everyone turned quickly. A few people took hours and a smaller number over twenty-four hours to turn. Thankfully, there were few of those. But they did a lot of damage as would be the case of one woman coming into a Miami.

Some pilots, realizing their passengers were all infected, crashed their planes in the ocean in acts of unrecognized heroism. Others were shut down by military planes like Australia first did. Only when flights were stopped cold did the infection from air travel stop. But that did not prevent people from crossing the borders of neighboring nations and infecting their population.

Governments and their security services had to use drastic means of curbing the tide. But in those early days, none of that was in effect. We were still learning and still reacting to the plague. And the eastern part of the United States was losing the battle.

Not that there were no infections on the west coast. But for some reason, the police and army were able to contain them better. The southern border with all those miles of open lands and illegal immigration should have been a big problem. The desert lands in North Mexico kept the infected who were searching for new victims away from the US border. So once the infection started in Mexico, it spread south rather than north. The infected were not interested in a new life to the north. They only sought flesh and victims where most were. In Mexico City.

For those of us east of the Mississippi, it got ugly. Very ugly. People whose cars ran out of gas were walking until they stopped exhausted. Some were sitting on the side of the road as if someone were coming to help. In some cases, people were given rides by good Samaritans. Others were picked up by buses commandeered by the Guard or simple citizens. It was dangerous.

In some ghastly incidents, infected were picked up and entire vehicles transported the infection to the west. As people figured that out, they stopped giving rides and drove past people begging for help lifting their children and babies to the passing vehicles. Funny how quickly humans go from civilized neighbors to survivalist cave people. Its human nature, I guess. Our survival instincts kick in and we do anything to protect ourselves from others we don't know.

***

A radio station out of Cincinnati was still giving updates then. It helped us steer around the river city of Lawrenceburg. It was such a mess in there, the Indiana Guard was shooting people on site. The local commander had decided that anyone shot in the head could not be infected and the panic it caused killed more people than the plague.

What was shocking to us back then, became standard procedure in pacifying areas later. Not just in the US, but overseas too. I eventually heard that the air force dropped firebombs on some towns to "keep the infection down". The Russians nuked Mongolia. And Pakistan and India nuked each other.

But on that day, all I wanted to do was to get past the traffic jams and find my kids. Had I heard about the gas and the intentional killing of non-infected, I would have gone insane and got us both killed.

As we drove, Ingrid's phone rang. She talked to her dad from what I could tell hearing just one side and then she hung up.

"Their car broke down on the side of the road. They can't fit everyone on the SUV and want us... me, to get there and help."

"Is it far?"

"I don't think so. Let me see." She checked the map on her phone and said "about five miles. Stay on this road and we turn south when I tell you."

I did as she said dodging stopped vehicles and people on the road who wanted rides.

We were not on the main road anymore. I was worried as we were shot once by some guy trying to fix a flat tire. People were edgy. And some were doing really stupid things. Some were becoming desperate and threatening. I wanted to stay away from them and get to my family.

It bothered me that I was solely dependent on Ingrid to reach them. More than once the thought went through my mind that she may be leading me away from them. But one thing I was sure of was that she wanted to help people she trusted and loved just as we all did. That meant her family. And if her brother was still with them, my family as well. South took us toward Lawrenceburg and the outbreak. But I forced myself not to think about that. One thing at a time, right?

In the distance, I could see police lights and cars stopped on the road.

"Look for a yellow SUV or a black sedan with people fixing the tire."

I thought I could see yellow already and sure enough, there was one behind a black sedan. There were people around and one was waving his arms at a cop who had a gun drawn. Another cop with a shotgun was coming out of the cruiser just as we got close. He waved at us to stop.

"Oh, my God, it's my brother!"

I think she said his name, but for the life of me, I can't remember it still. The doc says that it's because I associate him and blame him and Sharon for what happened. Maybe so, but at the moment, all I saw was the figure of a vaguely familiar man stumbling toward the cop who raised her gun. He looked infected.

"Oh no, not again..." Ingrid whimpered.

The shot rang out and I saw Ingrid brother's head snap as the back of it flew off and his finally lifeless body hit the asphalt. I heard screams from the older woman being restrained by an older man who seemed to be crying and saying "My boy" over and over. It was Ingrid's father and mother obviously and she ran out to console them.

I was out my side of the truck and headed for the two vehicles forgetting I was carrying a gun. The cop with the shotgun turned to me and I was looking at the biggest barrel ever, pointed at my eyes.

"Officer, my kids are in one of those cars" I begged without moving a muscle. I knew he would drop me if I did.

"Put the gun down slowly," he said without taking me out of his sight. I did just as he said and raised my hands still out and up. I think I had seen that in a movie, but it kept him from shooting me, so it worked.

"Just let me check on my kids... please," I said again pleading with him.

He just made a motion toward the SUV with the gun and followed me as I moved toward it slowly. I had to step over, or around the dead man, and looking at him, I realized that he may have not been shot by accident.

"Was he infected?" I asked as by now desperation was taking me over. If he had been infected... then what of my family?

"Of course, he was," said the female cop who had done the shooting. She was shaking.

"Think I would kill anyone in cold blood? I asked him to stop, but he looked at me with that wild look, growled, and started coming like they all do."

How had the infection spread so quickly?

By that point, I didn't care if I would be shot. I went to the SUV and looked inside the open driver side door. Buckled in on the front seat was Sharon. She stared at me for a second. I think I saw a tear run down her cheek, then she looked away from me almost in shame. I got inside the car and looked in the back seats.

I don't know if I can ever forget what I saw. My life as I knew it ended right there. Strapped in the back with seat belts were my kids. No... no longer my kids. My children were already dead. What was staring back at me were wild-eyed monster versions of my little girls and my son.