Darren Wearmouth - First Activation

The woman jumped up and ran up to the driver’s window.

“Please let me come with you. These fucking perverts wanted me to strip-off at gunpoint. Please help me.”

I watched in astonishment as the woman jumped into the passenger seat and the car started to move away.

As it passed us, the elderly man leaned out of the window, “Haven’t you seen the mess around you? You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

The woman raised her middle finger out of the passenger window, and the car disappeared into the distance.

“What was that? They didn’t to want to kill each other,” Bernie said.

I was trying to think of a logical reason behind it.

“Had they both been on flights like we had?” Jack replied.

“The woman said the last thing she remembered was being in a car crash. Maybe being unconscious had left her unaffected and the man had been on a plane? I don’t know, it seems unlikely,” I said.

“Do you think the killer thing has stopped?” Lea said.

“If everyone is okay again, shall we go back to my place?” Bernie said.

“Guys, don’t forget what happened on the Long Island Expressway,” I replied, “I think we need to come across more people before coming to any hasty conclusions.”

“There’s no way I am going back to the City,” Jack added. “The place is in a complete mess and will be absolutely stinking in a day or two.”

I looked around for any other moving vehicles but couldn’t see any. I turned to face the group who were still stood by our cover vehicle, “We stick with the plan and keep heading to the countryside. It will keep us away from the smell of thousands of rotting corpses and gets us into an area of low population.”

“Agreed,” Bernie nodded.

“I said I wanted to go to the farm in the first place,” Lea shrugged.

Bernie drove us away from the scene of the incident, which seemed to have left us all confused, but I comforted myself with the thought that is was actually a positive sign. The others might have been feeling the same, judging by the silence in the car. If it really was over, it would mean facing up to the state of the world we were left in, which would be a different kind of challenge.

As we turned onto Interstate 84 on the final leg of our journey, Bernie excitedly shouted, “Look up in the sky, can you see that vapour trail?”

Streaking across the sky was a white fluffy line. It was a definitive sign that an aircraft had recently been flying above us.

“What do you reckon it was? A flight to safety?” he continued.

“Maybe it was from an area that hadn’t been affected and they were having a look about?” Lea replied.

“I wonder if it could be invaders on a scouting mission to check on the results of whatever they initially deployed,” Jack said, bringing an abrupt halt to the conversation from the back seat.

We’d have to wait and see. I certainly wasn’t going to go looking for any trouble just to prove a theory, not in the immediate future anyway. All we wanted was a secure and safe place to live.

For an hour, we drove without further incident. Bernie still had to weave through stationary vehicles and at regular intervals, we still had views of corpses in various distorted shapes, but the threat level seemed to have lowered.

As we drove past Stewart International Airport, we saw a man in the distance. He was standing at the side of the road and started waving both of his arms when he saw us. He was holding a knife in his right hand.

Bernie stopped the car fifty yards away and said, “What shall we do?”

“Let’s get a bit closer and see what he has to say,” Lea replied. “If the effects have worn off, I’d prefer to know as soon as possible so we can finally relax.”

Bernie pulled up within thirty yards of the man at a slight angle. This allowed Jack and me to aim our weapons out of the car windows.

“What do you want?” Jack shouted.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, I’ve been so scared since this morning. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I just want to get home. Can you give me a ride to Maybrook?”

“What are you doing out here with a knife? Why don’t you take a car yourself?” I asked.

“I can’t drive. I woke up this morning in a ditch by the airport with this knife.” He held it up, “I kept hold of it because of what I’ve seen around here. What’s happening?”

“Where’s Maybrook?” Jack asked Bernie.

“It’s quite close to where we are going. You’re not thinking of letting him come with us, are you?”

I guessed that Jack was. He, like Lea, was keen to find out if people had returned to a normal state.

“Drop the knife and come closer. We don’t mean you any harm,” I said.

He threw the knife to the side of the road and approached the car. “Thank God. I was beginning to think I was the only one alive around here.”

“That’s close enough,” I replied as he got within five yards. “What have you been doing in the last three days?”

“I remember being at home, having a day off, then waking up here. Besides that, I have a very vague memory of wanting to find people.”

“Do you know what day it is?” I asked.

“Saturday?”

It was Monday afternoon; three days had passed since we landed at JFK. The man’s response was a positive sign.

“We’ll take you to Maybrook,” I said, “but you’ll have to come along at gun-point. We’ll explain why once we get going. One false move and you’re dead.”

The man nodded, and Jack opened up his door. He sat directly behind me, I pointed my Glock around the side of the seat and Jack pointed his rifle towards the man’s chin.

“What’s your name?” Lea asked.

“Greg.”

During the short ride to Maybrook, we gave Greg a brief outline of what we had seen since landing on Friday afternoon. It was a huge shock to him, and we quickly realised that he probably wasn’t a killer, at least not anymore.

“So, I haven’t killed anyone?” he asked.

“If you had killed anyone then you’d already be dead,” Bernie answered.

“How many have survived?”

The second question was more difficult for us to answer with any kind of accuracy.

“We know of at least twenty four people who are still alive, most are in the city, but we’ve seen two on our way here,” Lea replied. “There must be others all over the place that are coming back to themselves now. It’s only fair to warn you, not to get your hopes up about your own family and friends, we haven’t come across anywhere yet that wasn’t affected.”

Greg looked down and closed his eyes. This was a lot for anyone to take in, especially in just a few minutes. He had seen some of the carnage around Stewart International Airport but thought it was a terrible local accident.

“Seriously? The entire city? I can’t believe it.” He said, putting his hand on top of his head.

“It’s all true, JFK, Queens, Manhattan, and all the way here. It’s all fucked,” Jack replied.

“Where are you going?”

“A big old white house on the road to Montgomery. It’s…” Bernie answered.

“Near a farmhouse with a big barn next to it,” Lea said.

“I know that place,” Greg replied. “If home turns out to be a mess, you might find me knocking at your door.”

“Seriously, Greg, be careful, we don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybrook is probably going to look like a war zone, so you need to be prepared,” I said.

“Yeah, stay alert, find out what you can and if you need us, come to the house,” Jack added.

“Okay, thanks.”

We arrived at the exit for Maybrook and Bernie slowed down.

“Pull over guys, I’d like to walk from here and have a look around,” Greg said.