Jacqueline Druga - Immune

“Calm down. Everyone!” Myron. That was Myron’s voice.

A calmer silence hit and then the woman dropped to her left, and another scream of agony pierced the gym, mixed with the squealing.

Even in the dark, Max saw her first victim rise up and attack someone else.

It was a chain reaction, happening so fast. Those bitten turned quickly and raged toward another victim.

“Get to the bleachers!” Myron cried out.

Frightened people woken abruptly from a deep sleep raced toward the bleachers in a wave. Soon, all that was left on the gym floor were the five newly infected and the victims they devoured.

Max pulled his gun. With the gym floor clear, he could take his shots. Five infected. Five victims. Ten shots. The exact number the clip held. He didn’t want to take a chance on missing, so he walked up to the first one.

He fired, one shot into the infected attacker, the other into the attacker’s victim. When he did, those on the bleachers screamed in protest. Knowing he didn’t have much time before the victims turned, Max moved from infected to infected, until finally, he arrived at the last one.

The infected woman snarled at him, blood dripping from her chin and flesh dangling from her mouth.

Max was so focused he didn’t notice anything else around. He fired on the fifth and final one. When she fell over, Max aimed for the victim.

“No!” Myron cried out, reaching for the gun. “No. I’ll ...I’ll do it. I’ll do it. Give me…” Myron burst into a gut wrenching sob and dropped to his knees, sliding into a pool of blood.

Max handed him the weapon and turned away. Myron needed his moment.

The last victim on the gym floor was his grandmother Leona.

Everything fell apart in the course of a few hours.

The bodies had been cleared from the gym and moved to the farthest end of the school. Taking them out was not a possibility, the infected had broken the barrier and relentlessly pounded at the windows. Thankfully, the glass was thick and not easily broken.

Even an immune person couldn’t take the chance. An open door would let the infected in.

Paul woke up to screams and before he could do anything, that guy Max was playing dirty Harry, shooting the infected and their victims without a second thought. It angered Paul, gnawed at his gut. Especially since he had taken a stance in front of everyone like some sort of godlike hero. Their new leader to take them out of danger. A big shot, ignoring the fact that Myron still knelt in his grandmother’s blood. Her body had been removed, yet Myron didn’t budge.

“I know it’s pretty bad in here,” Max said, addressing the people on the bleachers. “But this gym is our best option. We’re going to figure something out. A place to go. First…is anyone bit? Anyone? Tell us. Scratched or bitten?”

“If we were we would have turned, right?” came a response from the bleachers.

“I suppose you’re right,” Max said.

“Hey, Moses!” Paul shouted. “Why are you misleading them?”

Max looked at him. “I’m sorry?”

“We don’t know about this virus. It changes. I have seen bitten take a day to turn. I have seen it take a minute. Leona laid there for a good five minutes while you played shoot ‘em up cowboy. She never turned. We don’t know.”

“Okay,” Max said calmly. “Is anyone bitten? Scratched?” he asked again.

“I want you out,” Paul said, approaching Max. “Leave. You’re immune, go to the roof, climb down and go.”

Max nearly laughed at that. “What?”

“Are you serious?” Grace called out. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“It’ll be light in a couple hours,” Paul replied. “He can go.”

“We’re already leaving in a couple of hours,” Grace argued. “He doesn’t need to leave. If it wasn’t for him—”

“None of this would have happened!” Paul shouted. “I told them not to go out. But they did. They brought you in here. We were fine. Infection free, until you showed up. One of you brought the infection in here. On your shoes, clothes, somewhere, you brought it in. It’s your fault, his, yours. His…” he pointed to Eugene, “Myron and Beret. Even your kid.”

Wham.

Paul never saw it coming. He felt the hard hit to his face, stumbled back, and didn’t even realize what happened or who hit him, until he looked up from the floor and saw Max reaching for him.

“Max!” Grace screamed. “Let him go.”

Max backed up and Paul clumsily stood. He held the side of his face and shook his head. “So none of you have my back? Aren’t going to insist he leave? Just let him shoot people? Why does he even have a gun in here? Fine. Follow him. All of you. You were safe. I considered you safe. Now I consider you statistics.”

Ego bruised as well as his face, Paul stormed from the gym in a state of fury.

Eugene actually sought out Paul, to talk to him and see if there was anything he could do. That was the type of person Eugene was.

Paul had retreated to the science labs located at the end of the south hall. He asked to be left alone and Eugene respected that.

Upon returning, he heard someone suggest for people to try to get some rest. They’d figure out a plan in the morning.

Grace had settled back on the bleachers, holding Candice close. Myron had moved from the floor and sat at the table with Max.

“She was all I had,” Myron lamented. “All I had. When my parents ditched me, she raised me.” “I had a similar life,” Max said. “I know how you feel. I’m really sorry. She was a good woman.”

“Maybe it was for the best,” Myron said sadly. “I mean, I hate the way she died, but how hard would it be for her?”

Eugene slid in at the table. “Her death is a tragedy and loss. That’s the only way to look at it. I am very sorry, son.”

Myron rested his head on his arms. “This place smells.”

Eugene knew what he meant. There was a sour smell to it, and they had no way to clean up the blood, which was everywhere. “We won’t be here for long. We really need to brainstorm. We need to get these people out of here. If we knew of a safe zone, we only need to get to the airport. I’m a pilot; hell, I’ll fly us to wherever we need to go.”

Myron lifted his head. “Thompson, Manitoba.”

“Canada?” Eugene asked.

Myron sniffled. “It’s a safe zone. Tara made contact. Paul knew about it and he never told us. It’s a really secluded place. She’s been talking to the guy who runs it, and they’re taking survivors.”

“Can we reach them?” Max asked.

“I don’t know. Tara can.”

Eugene stood. “Then let’s go call Tara. Max, can you stay back and keep an eye on things here?”

“Yeah.”

“What about Paul?” Myron asked. “Should we get him?”

Eugene glared at him.

“I guess not,” Myron said, following him out of the gym.

If it panned out, they had a place to go, they just needed to make it to the airport and wait it out there until Eugene prepped a plane. First things first, before he got his hopes up about the prospect, they needed to get in touch with Tara.

Eugene’s voice was froggy from being tired. He had caught an hour sleep after they spoke to Tara. She and her people already had an escape plan, and they were waiting on word from Eugene on when to head to the airport.

It was almost time.

There was no coffee, and he desperately needed some. He and Myron ended up staying in the east wing after they rested. There wasn’t a choice, someone needed to keep an eye out. The sun had started to rise, and they sat on the roof listening to the sounds of the infected below. There were so many of them, it sounded like an orchestra of groans and squeals.