Reap-R

                                                        Reap-R


Something went wrong. It was bound to happen with only two of us left. We were so careful though!
         The interior of the Jim's Market was dark as a tomb. It's floor was littered with broken glass on top of dusty boxes and cans. Some left from the outbreak, some from our unconventional entrance.
         I backed away from the swarming undead. They weren't supposed to be in here. It looked clear from the street.
         Broken glass crunched under my feet.  A small insignificant sound compared to the three round bark of my M-16. The bursts tore into the decaying corpses lunging towards us, but not fast enough.
         “Tiff!” I screamed. “Get back! There's too many!”
         To her credit, Tiffany dropped two at point blank range with her shotgun. The headless bodies fell at her feet spewing foul smelling liquids. She never got a chance to fire a third time. They were on her before she had a chance to run.
         Stupid me, I charged forward firing blindly. There was no hope for her. I knew that. They held her screaming body, tearing chunks out of her flesh with their teeth.
         Bullets sprayed into the walking corpses with little effect. Flying lead didn't do a damn thing unless you got a head shot. By the time I reached them the clip was empty.
         A lull hung over the room punctuated by the sudden silence. There I was face to face with a blank eyed old codger, the right half of his face torn open. I moved first. The butt of my assault rifle took off the left side.
         They dropped Tiffany's lifeless body and surged over it. She held no interest for them any more. The spark of life was gone. Soon she would be one of them.
         I back peddled nearly tripping on the loose cans covering the floor. The mass of undead followed, shuffling through the debris with ease. They were gaining on me.
         Our armored personal carrier waited at the front of the store, engine idling and ramp down for a quick getaway. A third of it was rammed through the market windows tight enough to keep the walking dead outside. It had worked before, but who knew the back room was going to be swarming with zombies.
         Fear makes you do dumb things. If I'd kept my head and moved carefully I could have easily made it back to the vehicle ahead of them. Instead I kept slipping on debris in my haste to get away.          A hand grasped my rifle in a grip of steel. In my panic I refused to let go and was pulled back toward the rotting corpses. Another one latched onto the sleeve of my combat jacket. All I could focus on was the dead eyes and gnashing teeth coming closer. Then I was in their midst, arms reaching, decaying faces ready to bite.
         I don't know if it was adrenaline or just plain terror but I screamed and lurched away. My coat ripped as I bulled out of reach. To hell with the M-16. It was empty and there were plenty more weapons in the APC. I let go of it and stumbled backwards.
         My foot slipped on a can of green beans and I went down. It was surreal watching the white labeled canister fly to the side. Damn things. I always knew vegetables were out to get me.
         So were the zombies. The one who took my rifle tried to sink his teeth into the flat black stock. He quickly lost interest in it and dropped it. It would have been funny if my life wasn't at stake. Still, he paused long enough to block his fellow undead who had to go around him to get to me.
         There wasn't going to be a second chance. Scrambling on my hands and knees I made a bee line for the personal carrier. Then I hit the broken glass on the floor.
         Stinging shards penetrated my unprotected fingers and tore at my camouflage pants. Being a little bloody was better than being a little dead. I hardly slowed down.
         It seemed like forever before I found the cold metal and gentle incline of the ramp. I rolled inside and punched the lift button. The hydraulics engaged and the ramp began to raise, but slowly. Ever so slowly.
          The dead were there. For a moment their shuffling came to a stop. The couldn't figure out that one step up would bring them to their prey and I wasn't going to give them time to figure it out.
         I grabbed blind, taking the first rifle in line off the weapon rack. Combat shotgun. Finally, some good luck.
         There was no time to aim. I jabbed the safety off and brought the gun up to my shoulder. One squeeze on the hair trigger sent buckshot into the chest of the lead zombie throwing the creature away from the APC.
         The sound was deafening and the recoil more than I expected. It took a second to re-acquire a firm grip. Another shot rang out then another. No kills but the undead were driven back. All the while the gate continued to rise.
         Their outstretched arms reached forward grasping only empty air. The semi-automatic rang out again keeping them at bay. I swallowed hard when the door clicked shut closing me inside.
         My fingers lost their strength and the weapon slipped out of my blood soaked hands to the metal decking. I slumped against the cold metal wall and slid to the floor. It was over. I had won but I was alone now.
         I glanced at my fingers numbly. Tiny shards of glass still poked out from the flesh. The bleeding was not stopping. It wasn't so bad. I would live.
         My blood froze at the sight of the small bite just behind my left wrist. One of them got me in the struggle. I hadn't won at all. All I had done was delay the inevitable.
         They were still out there, fists pounding on the armored exterior. I didn't hear them. I sat there slowly plucking the slivers of glass out of my fingers, my legs. Each stab of pain as they were removed reminded me that I was alive.
         Alive! There had to be something that would stop this. Somewhere there had to be a cure!
         But where? Even if there was, I'd never reach it in time. All I had at my disposal was two first aid kits bolted to the wall behind me.
         I bolted upright in a fit of rage. Tore at the white boxes fixed to the side of the vehicle. They ripped loose and clattered to the floor.
         They didn't have time to stop moving before I pounced on them. The covers came off in my hands spilling their contents. I rifled through the rolls of bandages and antiseptics. Nothing that was going to make a damn bit of difference.
         For the second time I fell against the bulkhead. Death was coming for me. No, not death. The reaper was being denied everyone these days. Everyone who refused to put a bullet in his head at times like these.
         My bloodshot eyes scanned the floor searching for the still smoking shotgun. There it was, pointing towards me ironically. A thin black satchel was leaning on the butt at an awkward angle.
         I glanced around. Where had it come from? Behind the medical kits?
         Even though I knew my body was dying I couldn't help but pick it up. The spine of the imitation leather was dusty as if it had been lost for a while. My numbing fingers undid the clasp and let if fall open.
         Inside were four color coded syringes. A chart was attached to the left side of the plastic wrapped needles. The tiny lettering swan out of focus. My eyesight was starting to go.
         The cover flap held a small white booklet shoved into a clear nylon pocket. It took me a few tries to get the damn thing out. The stiff pages resisted my attempts to flip through it with numbing fingers. I finally managed it and squinted at the type, willing the words to come into focus.
         “Those fucking bastards,” I swore out loud.
         The kit was an emergency response to something I'd never heard of. An M-921 contagion. Whatever it was, the symptoms described sounded a lot like the zombification that had swept the world. They'd know about it all along.
         Then why didn't they use these? I checked the date. The pamphlet was printed two and a half years ago. Distributed and recalled in that time. Why?
         My heart beat a little faster. Maybe there was a cure. I studied the chart.
         First in line was marked in blue. A vaccine to prevent infection. Too late for that.
         The next three were coded in yellow, orange and red. Yellow, to be injected into the site of the infection. I turned my hand and looked at the bite. The skin around it was pale, turning an ugly purple.
         Orange was to be injected into a large muscle mass and the last in a vein. What did I have to lose? If I'd read it wrong and drugs were for something else maybe they'd kill me before the transformation was complete.
         I didn't even feel the first injection. The area around the bite was completely numb. Lifeless.
         The second needle stung as it penetrated my right butt cheek. I thumbed the clear liquid into my body. It was ice cold.
         My hands were shaking by the time I'd gotten the third needle ready. I was no medic and had never given myself a shot before. The needle pierced the skin inside my left elbow. I hunted for the elusive vein within. With my sight going blurry again I couldn't tell if I'd found it or not. Either way it  was now or never. 
         I couldn't feel my fingers move. Couldn't feel the last injection at all. The only way I could tell if I'd actually done it or not was to hold the empty syringe up to my watering eyes. Empty. It slipped through my numbed fingers and fell to the floor.
         There was nothing left to do but wait. I should have been terrified but I wasn't. I was tired. Tired to the point I didn't care anymore. If I never woke from this nightmare so much the better. Once upon a time a younger me thought it would be so cool to witness the end of the world. What a fool that person was.
         A fit of anger hit me. Someone had made this happen. Someone had designed this plague and intentionally or not, released it into the world. If they lived, they needed to be punished for their stupidity.
         Not thinking clearly, I grabbed the unused needle. Before I realized what I was doing the syringe slammed into my thigh injecting the vaccine into my body. It burned.
          Liquid fire raged through my veins spreading down my leg and into my torso. My body twisted and spasmed on the armor plating. Pain unlike anything I'd ever felt before had me begging for release. Anything was better than this. Death or undeath.
         After what seemed like an eternity the agony started to subside. My heart, which had been beating a mile a minute was slowing. The time between each beat was longer than the last. This was it then.
         I was content. There was no reason to fight anymore. My sight dimmed. Whether it was from the serum, the infection or just not able to hold my lids open any longer I didn't care anymore.
         As the stillness between heartbeats grew and my chest rose and fell for the last time, my mind began to wander. Back through the recent horrors I had suffered. Back to the morning when it all began.