Manel Loureiro - Apocalypse Z - The Beginning of the End

From the other side, there came several dozens more, eager for prey. I only had one way out—a country road at an intersection about twenty yards away. I floored it, made the turn, and—

February 9, 3:09 p.m.

As I was writing yesterday, with Lucullus in my lap, I heard a noise on the ground floor of our strange shelter. I climbed down the stairs with my stomach in knots, gun in hand. I looked all around but didn’t find anything. False alarm. Maybe stress and exhaustion are starting to play tricks on me. Or maybe I’m hallucinating. Or worse—battle fatigue.

Back to my story. When I was in the car at the intersection of my street, the situation was not encouraging. Hundreds of those things were coming from downtown with that strange gait, deceptively slow looking but really fast, taking up the entire street. It was the grisliest sight you can imagine.

For the love of God! All those bodies—with wounds and amputations, covered in blood, pale, that awful look in their eyes—headed for my car, with a bloodlust, a longing to catch me. Damn it! You have to see a walking corpse in person to understand how terrifying it is. The sight of hundreds of them trying to catch you would make even the most laid-back person’s hair stand on end.

The situation was no better at the other end of the street. There were fewer, but too many for me to drive through them without hitting one. If the crash didn’t kill me, those things would. I only had one way out: the country road.

I live in an area that’s been developed relatively recently. There are still some narrow country roads that wind through old farms, though they were being transformed into streets with buildings or town houses like mine. I knew there was one of those roads straight ahead. I didn’t see any of those things on it, so it was my only choice.

I floored it and turned on to the smaller road, bouncing over a huge pothole. In the rearview mirror, I could see that a mob had gathered and was following me. To my horror, I realized that the engine noise would attract dozens of these creatures anywhere I went. All I could do was drive so fast they couldn’t catch me, and they’d lose my trail. Sounds easy in theory. Fucking hard in practice.

That road was not exactly a highway. It was wide enough for one car. In places, its surface was just a bed of rocks and huge potholes. On top of that, I didn’t know where it led. If it was a dead end, I was in serious trouble. I drove slowly, about fifteen miles an hour. I had to stop often and maneuver around a pothole, so those things never lost sight of me. Lucullus meowed plaintively in his carrier with each jarring bounce the Astra made. I was terrified and knew just how he felt.

I gripped the wheel really tight. The car lurched along. Once I heard a terrible creaking sound coming from the motor. That didn’t bode well. I drove too fast through an especially narrow point and left both mirrors and the rear bumper lodged between two stone walls. I didn’t give a shit. I had to get out of there no matter the cost.

A moment later, I ended up on a wider country road and had no idea how. I braked hard, throwing up a cloud of dust. There was nothing in sight. Not a soul, living or dead. I could see Pontevedra off in the distance, sitting on the banks of the Lérez River, silent, unchanging…dead. Here and there, columns of smoke rose from burning embers. I stared at long black scars where entire streets had burned to the ground.

I guess when the electricity failed, transformers and substations broke down and started the fires. There was no one to put them out.

I shook my head in disbelief. The only sound was the hum of the motor. As the dust cloud settled, I righted Lucullus’ carrier in the passenger seat and whispered a few words of reassurance. No time for petting; he was going to have to tough it out for a while. I had to decide which way to go now.

Suddenly I knew where I was—the damn secondary highway I’d tried to use to get out of town almost a month ago. The one where I was stopped at the checkpoint. Well, I wasn’t likely to run into a checkpoint now. If by some chance I did, I’d cover them with kisses as long as they took Lucullus and me into their custody. I’d played the Lone Ranger too long.

I rolled along the deserted road for a couple of miles. Not a soul was in sight, aside from two bloody figures staggering around in the distance on the edge of a cornfield. A small river between them and the road would stop them from following me, but it was only a matter of time before more of those things showed up. I finally came to the checkpoint. Cement blocks were the only memorial to the troops stationed there. They’d been put there to cut off the road, but someone cleared them away later. You could see the scrape marks they left on the cement as they dragged the blocks across the road. I don’t know who moved them, what they did with the cement blocks, or where they went.

I continued for a mile or so, getting more and more worried. It wouldn’t be long till I came to the main intersection. That would mean more homes and more cars blocking the road. And more of those things—a lot more. The county road ran through an undeveloped part of the belt around the city, but it was the exception. The rest was densely populated, so there were probably thousands of bodies wandering around. I couldn’t forget the huge crowd following me. Many would get lost down other roads, or they’d stop. However, I felt sure a few would reach that spot.

Plus, the sun was setting. Nighttime is as dark as a well in an urban area with no electric lights. It would be suicide to continue. I had to find a place to hide. Fast.

Just when I thought I’d never find shelter, I came upon the perfect refuge on a small hill in the middle of a field thick with prickly broom plant. I spotted its little orange roof and sighed with relief. I know that kind of building well: substations along the pipeline that pumped oil across Galicia from north to south, to major cities. It would do nicely.

I eased on to the road leading up the hill. It grew narrower and narrower, overrun by vegetation. I almost ran into the high mesh fence. I could only see the gate. The rest of the perimeter fencing was completely covered by a thick layer of vegetation at least 150 feet high. You couldn’t reach the fence without hacking through that jungle with a machete, and I seriously doubted those monsters could do that. The only access to the substation was down this road. It was a great place to spend the night.

Fortunately, the fence had a simple bolt, not a padlock. Wire was twisted around the bolt to hold the gate closed. It was pretty sloppy, but complicated enough to stop anything that wasn’t human.

I drove through the gate and closed it behind me, then stopped in front of a hut. It was very small, roughly the size of a bedroom, but solid, with no windows. Its metal door locked with a key. After a few minutes, I finally forced it open with a crowbar I had in my trunk.

It was dark and dusty inside, lit only by a skylight and light from the door. In the middle of the room were some pipes, gauges, and valves used to purge air from the lines. I don’t know if there’s still gas in them, and I don’t plan to find out. I’m not going to touch that stuff for anything in the world. The last thing I need is to gas myself or blow myself up.

I settled in and slept for almost twelve hours, then slept all day today, too. This is the first time in weeks I’ve been able to rest, without that constant pounding and moaning. It’s great. I could stay here forever. But it’s not especially comfortable. Plus, I’m down to about half a liter of water, and I’m getting thirsty.