Leaving Home

Before the outbreak, Greg’s life was different. He worked as an editor for a publishing company and was in the works to have one of his own manuscripts printed. The thrill and excitement of reaching this accomplishment made him realize the value of his own hard work.
Then all this shit happened.
The TV blared on with some news anchor reporting on the current situation with the creatures that were spreading across the city. Sitting on the couch he stared at the ceiling of his small studio apartment.
“Parts of the downtown area continue to burn as fires from last weeks rioting and the most recent military contamination units’ attempts to control the situation have gone unattended.”
“Can you believe this shit?” said Mark who lay sprawled on the couch next to him.
Greg looked back down at the floor of his apartment. Before the outbreak his apartment was cozy and large. On sunny days his partial living room and dining area were lit up by the sun’s rays that filtered in through the windows that overlooked the street. A large rug lay between the TV and couch, and a stationary shelf filled with books and other supplies sat in the corner facing the couch.
That image faded away as he saw open bottles and crumpled cans thrown about the floor. Books and newspapers were discarded around the now cramped living room marked by Mark and Jeff’s sleeping bags. College buddies, Greg decided to let them camp out at his place when they were forced to move out of their neighborhoods, when they were deemed unsafe zones.
“They ain’t gonna do shit,” Mark continued. “This crap is been going on for weeks now. Who knows how many of those things there are out there now.”
“Your point being,” said Greg.
“It’s not gonna get any better. We’re alright so far, but its going to be a matter of time before this area is not safe any more.”
“But what the hell do you want me to do about it?” said Greg.
Mark sat silent for a moment not sure how to respond.
“Damn what was that all about?” said Jeff as he walked out of the kitchen. “Are you harassing him with your logistic bullshit again?”
“What, I was just trying to liven up the mood. It was so quiet in here and the TV just keeps spitting out the same crap.”
Greg readjusted himself on the couch and sucked his teeth. His head began to hurt from viewing TV in the dark and the sudden outburst.
“Besides,” continued Mark. “What I’m saying is true. It’s only a matter of time.”
For the past three days it’s been the same thing coming out Mark’s mouth and Greg was getting tired of hearing it. He hated the fact that everything around him was falling apart and he had no control over it. His life, his career was destroyed with nothing to savor or hold on to because it was meaningless now.
On top of all that there were the dead that were walking around searching, killing, and infecting others who would later get up and kill. He felt trapped with no way of escaping the horror of what was happening. Neither escape nor rescue was promised to all the people that were still alive behind stock piled cars and crudely set up steel gates, fences and walls that kept the dead from reaching them.
“Man why do you have to sound all end of the world and shit?” said Jeff.
“Have you looked out the window lately?” said Mark. “I can still see the fires burning a mile from here.”
“Those places were lost. Nothing could be done to save them.”
“Okay fine, but think about this Jeff. It just means that we’re also a lost cause.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” said Greg.
“No ones coming to get any of the people still alive in this area. We’re all fucked.”
Greg stood up and walked to the window. He couldn’t stand hearing Mark talk like he knew what was going to happen.
From his second floor window he looked down onto the street below. People were walking around some pushing carts, others sat under street lamps. It was a cloudy evening as the moon tried to peek through the clouds.
“The only thing keeping us all alive is that fortified blockade,” said Mark.
“And it’s going to continue to stay up,” said Greg. “Those barricades have stayed up this long and as long as we continue to check them we’re going to be just fine.”
Despite the irritation and his growing headache Greg managed to state his firm opinion on the matter.
“I’m going out I need some fresh air, I’m cramped in here,” said Greg.
“You feel cramped,” responded Mark.
“Yeah my head hurts from listening to your crap everyday.”
Mark was about to say something when Jeff interrupted.
“If you’re going outside than check the barricade out behind the building.”
“I thought it was your turn to check?” said Greg.
“Yeah but since your going out then you take care of it.”
Greg stomped out of the living room and into the hall toward the door. He stepped outside and slammed the door shut behind him.
He walked over to the wall across from him and slammed his fist against it. The pain shot through his arm and then he felt his blood pulsate with each bulging ache.
“Lazy asshole.”
Outside the night air was warm and the smell of burnt ash and smoke was growing stronger from the out-of- control fires. The weather hadn’t been on their side for the past couple of days, blowing all that congested air in their direction. They were warned to wear masks but Greg was so pissed that he left without grabbing his.
He didn’t care anyway because he wasn’t going to stay out long, just enough to calm his nerves.
He walked past several people that were sitting on the curb humming tunes. They sounded content, even distracted to the reality that surrounded them. He once remembered a neighborhood that had kids hanging out on street corners at all hours of the day. The local bodega that sold hot roast beef sandwiches, and the barber shop where he got his haircuts.
Looking around the streets looked subdued, gripped onto the brink of its own destruction as people tried to hang on to some fading memory of their dying city. Except for the humming group the evening was quiet. Greg walked around the corner and down an alley leading toward the back of the building. A dim light that hung on the wall illuminated the path. The ground was littered with broken bottles, papers, and other trash that people threw out of their windows.
“Damn people have no decency even now,” he said as he stepped on a beer can. “They can’t even keep the streets clean. Why don’t we just hand it over to them?”
He kicked another can out of the way as he approached a knocked down wall divider that separated the buildings from each other. Greg stepped through and saw the steel gate and fence that stretched along a section of the barricade.
As he got closer he could see it covered in rust and graffiti. He pressed against it and found it to be able to hold against his own weight. A smile crossed his face as he though back to stupid idea that Mark kept insisting on. He shoved at it again and laughed at the outcome.
“Solid just like Alcatraz.”
His phone suddenly rang, and Greg felt his heart leap into his throat.
“Hello?”
“Hey I almost forgot,” answered Jeff. “Don’t forget to check the pad locks.”
“Jesus you call me just to tell me that?”
“What did I scare you?” Jeff said in a mocking voice.
“Fucking hell yeah.”
Over the phone Greg could hear Mark laughing as Jeff tried to cover his tracks.
“Hey put that idiot on the phone. I want him to hear this.”
Greg walked over to a steel fence reinforced with wooden planks and sheet metal.
“You hear this Mark?” he said kicking the makeshift wall. “Strong as a rock.”
He kicked it again and again, each shot harder then the last.
“I told you they would hold.”
Again he kicked the wall. He could hear the vibration travel along the wall until he heard a loud crack to his left at the far end of the barricade.
“Okay,” said Mark. “You’ve made your point. Just get on back.”
Greg stared in the direction of the noise. The barricade on his right stretched out another four blocks, illuminated only by a single light. Something snapped loose somewhere up ahead.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Shutting his phone off, he walked ahead along the wall. The night sky cast dark eerie shadows along the path. A cold chill ran over his hands, and his hair began to stand on its end.
He inspected the barricade as he walked along. Large thick wood planks stood secure to the ground and reinforced with steel. Another sound echoed ahead, not as loud as the first but definitely audible.
“What the hell,” Greg answered in return.
The night grew quieter that Greg thought he could hear feint howls and groans drifting in the air. Could they be closer now, he thought. The zombies were moving south in scattered groups mainly using large main streets and high ways. That was according to the last news chopper report before they went off the air two days ago. They couldn’t be moving that fast, but than again it didn’t matter because the barricades would hold against them.
Then he saw it, a large piece of sheet metal had detached from a wooden frame and now left a two foot wide open gap.
“Shit.”
He tried to push the sheet metal back into place but it refused to budge. He pushed harder and it screeched across the ground. Frustrated he peeped through the gap and found a section of wall and debris preventing the barricade from closing. He stepped through and began to look around for something to move the debris out of the way.
Stopping to look at the lay out he realized that it was a large courtyard. To his right was a door and ahead the courtyard opened into a street.
Curious to see what was ahead Greg moved forward and found the street deserted and dark. A few street lamps still worked in this abandoned part of the city. A low groan floated in the air and then Greg saw movement just across from where he was standing.
From behind a desolate parked car a lone zombie dragged itself along the ground.
In the dead silence and emptiness it was weird to find one of them here alone as if it were lost and searching for something.
Greg reached down and picked up a lose brick and walked forward determined to put it out of its misery.
“Come here you little shit,” said Greg.
As he got closer its rotting stink intensified and he also saw that it was missing a leg. The handicap didn’t prevent it from pulling itself toward him when it saw him. He lifted the brick and stopped at the sound of another groan loader this time. When he turned he saw another zombie walking toward him then another behind it.
Only two he said to himself, “slow ass fuckers.”
As he lifted the brick something ran past him. He turned and was tackled from behind and dragged to the ground. Another zombie had ambushed him and he hadn’t seen at all. It clawed at his face and hissed and tried to bite him. Greg held its head away with one arm and reached for a piece of shattered glass on the ground with the other. When he turned his attention back to the zombie he realized that it was a woman. Her eyes were blood shot red and blood ran down her mouth and dripped on his face.
The zombie dug its rotted chipped nails into his soft flesh and scrapped some of his skin off.
Panicked Greg grabbed the shattered glass and jabbed it into the zombie’s eye. Gaining leverage he screamed and continued to push it deeper into its socket. Pushing it off Greg scrambled to his feet, the other two and the one crawling on the ground continued to pace after him. He looked at his arm and saw the blood run down, it stun like a hundred bees had attacked the same spot.
“Fuck you bastards,” he said staring at the dead corpse he just killed. The others moaned in feverish hunger their arms reaching for him from a block away.
“You’re not talking this from us,” he continued.
He turned and walked back to the barricade. In the distance the wails grew louder as two more shambling corpses appeared.