tried the boys found no relief or comfort. Finally near dawn the older boy fell into a restless sleep followed by his brother.
Both were drenched in sweat, Jim’s wife kept replacing the damp cloths on their foreheads with cool ones. Jim had taken an early morning shift so she could get some rest. She was back now at the boy’s side.
“Jim we’re going to have to take them to the hospital if this fever doesn’t break soon.” She whispered. Jim cringed but nodded. Money was very tight and their insurance was not very good, but this was his boys.
His mind filled with worry for his sons. He was at the door without realizing it. "How are we going to pay for a hospital stay?" He thought turning the knob. Stepping out into the sunlight his thoughts swirled. If his attention wasn’t so distracted he may have noticed how wrong things were outside his door. Pulling on his hat to shield his tired eyes from the bright sun he kept his eyes down as he headed to the paddock. Reaching the fence he called to his frantic horse.
“You need to be quiet. We just got the boys to sleep.” He scolded while walking over to the gate. The animal stamped impatiently on the ground. As soon as the gate was unlatched the horse reared. Jim was thrown back as the horse burst through running as is if the devil were chasing him.
"Not what I need now damn it." Jim swore pulling himself to his feet with the aid of the fence. "Great, not only do I have the boys to worry about now I have horse to find." He grumbled Halfway through a swipe at his pants Jim caught a glimpse of the oncoming crowd. They were three quarters of the way across the field, somewhere between twenty or thirty people.
They must, must have been in a bus crash or something. They had to be something other than what he swore they couldn’t be. Terror fought with disbelief rooting him to the ground until the scream from the house pulled him back to reality. His wife burst through the back door as he ran to it. She was bleeding from her arms and hands.
“The boys the boys” was all her panic would let he scream. Behind her Jim could see his boys clawing at the screen door, blood covering their mouths and teeth. Seeing the oncoming horde she let out another scream. Jim pulled her along to the truck parked beside the house. Frantically he grabbed at his pockets,"keys! Where were the keys?" He shouted. A memory flashed through his mind. He tossed the truck keys onto the table when he brought home the cold medicine. His wife screamed again as a blonde spiky haired kid with the torn shirt and face appeared at the back of the truck. Jim turned pulling his wife toward the barn. The sight of his oldest boy halted their movements. He was on his mother before Jim could even react. The blonde boy was now ripping into her neck as his son bit into her leg.
Jim ran to the barn, the screams of his wife chasing him. Skidding to a halt, his way was blocked by three of them. Turning he ran to the house, his footsteps thundered on the wooden porch, the front door slammed behind him. Jim clicked the lock, pushed the large chest by the window in front of the door. He spun on the spot, windows, too many windows. The noise was too loud, the back door! Jim ran to the back of the house, the back screen door stood torn and open. Several undead approached. Jim slid across the bloody kitchen floor, crying out he slammed the door shut in the faces of the ghouls.
Gasping for breath, his blood pounded in his ears. He never heard the soft footfalls of his youngest son. The pain ripped through his upper thigh, blood flowed heavy from the wound. Jim threw the child from him. Limping he grabbed the keys from the table. He was at the front door, the chest was moved, the door opened. He could hear his son behind him, they were in front of him, beside him. Black tunnels obscured his vision he was cold, dizzy, he was on his back. Horrid faces staring down, hands began to grab at him. He could feel the tugs, the pain was far away.
The ranks of the group were now swelled by four as the man, his wife, and two children, bloody and torn wandered down the road toward the town.
Getting Bad
Even before entering the living room Wes could tell that Reg was worse, much worse. “I asked you to watch him.” His mother hissed. She hurried to her husband’s side. Placing a hand on his forehead she called to her son. “Get me a wet wash cloth.”
“How is he?” Wes asked his mother, placing a hand on her shoulder. She hugged it with her face and shoulder while she held the damp cloth to her husband’s forehead.
Reginald Baker lay on the couch gripping a blanket around him tightly. He also had three other blankets covering him. Sweat poured off his head while he shivered violently under the heap of covers. His skin was pale, his eyes half closed. Suddenly he erupted in a fit of coughing. It was a harsh dry hacking cough. It sounded as if it was ripping at Reg’s throat and lungs. It hurt Wes’ chest just to hear it.
“Do you need me to go back out and get try to get something?” Wes asked his mother.
“I don’t know. No. There was nothing left when I was just out. We’ll probably have to get more. I just don’t know when they’ll get more. It seems everyone is sick. ” She sighed. “It just, nothing seems to help. I don’t want to give him anything else, he’s had these and these already.” She motioned to the open boxes of could relief and bottles of cough syrup. “I was just hoping to find something better.”
“Well this is something to look forward to.” Wes shuddered while rubbing his chest. Walking around the couch he knelt down to check on Reg. “How you feeling old dude?”
Reg gave a weak smile that turned into another coughing fit. “I don’t feel the best right now kiddo.” He wheezed, “But I’ll be fine soon.” He tried to give his wife a reassuring smile. He then shivered and wrapped himself more tightly in the blanket.
“Grab another blanket form the closet will you?” Wes’ mother asked. He hurried to the closet, every step the concern within him grew. Returning to the couple he held out the last blanket they had, Reg seemed to be covered in all the others.
“What else can I do Mom?” He asked as she sat on the floor next to the couch helping her husband get a drink. She looked up at him shaking her head. “I can get the comforter from my room.”
“I’m ok guys, seriously. Just a bad bug.” Reg tried to calm them. He coughed then smiled, “besides, that thing will only get me sicker. When was the last time you washed it?” His laugh turned into more coughs.
“If you are not better by tomorrow I am taking you to the doctor and that is that.” Wes smiled as his mother lay down the law. “Now get some sleep. I’m just going to read for a bit. Wes I’m sorry but I need you here to help and… I...I’m just happy you are home. In case I need something.”
“It's ok Mom. I’m worried about the old guy too.” He knew she didn’t need him home to help but needed his support. He headed up to his room listening as Reg broke out into another fit of coughs that ended in a moan. As soon as he closed the door to the bedroom his phone rang, It was Beth.
Downtown
Dave and Bridgette had just finished unpacking the last of the boxes in their first apartment together a couple of days ago. It wasn’t much but it was theirs. Located above a dance studio on the third floor of an old building downtown, the rent had been just right for the young couple moving in together right after graduating college.
They liked the location downtown and the lack of neighbors. Of the four apartments only two others were occupied. This suited the young couple just fine as they liked to play their music loud and have a good time. Today the apartment was quieter than normal. Bridgette had come down with the flu that had been
