"This is private property," the old man yelled out. "You aren't welcome, so get out."
Cameron opened the door and stepped out with his arms in the air. "Just me, Eli," he assured him.
"Cameron?" he asked, bewildered, lowering his rifle a bit. "What're you doing driving that?"
"Couldn't get to my car," Cameron answered.
The old man raised his rifle back up. "Take off your shirt and pants. I need to make sure you weren't bit." Cameron knew that he was dead serious, so he had no choice but to comply. "What's that on your arm?"
Looking at his forearms, he was surprised to see the scratch marks left by that cop. He was so focused on escape he didn't give any injuries a second thought. "Just some scratches, don't worry."
"Come on in," he sighed, finally lowering his weapon and allowing Cameron to get dressed.
As Cameron followed he felt his cell phone vibrate. Expecting Mike, he answered, "Yeah?"
"Cameron? Cameron, honey? You all right?" his mother asked desperately.
"Mom!" he shouted, almost dropping the phone in surprise, "Damn! Yeah, yeah I'm safe."
"Oh my god," she said hysterically. "Your dad and I are watching the news. They're saying riots are breaking out across all major cities."
"Yeah," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I saw that too."
"Look, you need to get out of there. Take our car, and use our credit cards until—"
"I already did that, mom," Cameron assured her. "Things got crazy back at home, so I packed up and left." Just how crazy, Cameron would not tell her. "I'm at Eli's right now."
"Lord," she said, and Cameron knew that she was tearing up on the other side. "We'll be back on the next flight back home, so—"
"NO!" Cameron yelled forcefully. "No, mom! You and dad stay there!"
"Cameron—!"
"NO!" he repeated, in a way that he ever dared speak before. "YOU. STAY. THERE!"
"Don't order me around like that."
"Or what, mom, you'll ground me? Besides, I doubt that airports are gonna be running much longer."
"Dammit!" said his dad's voice. "The island's just been quarantined."
Cameron breathed a sight of relief. "I'll call tonight. I love you both."
"No but—"
Cameron hung up on her.
"Your parents okay?" Eli asked when Cameron entered the house.
"Yeah," he answered.
Eli handed him a glass on ginger ale, and they took a seat in the living room. In it hung various photos of family, baseball memorabilia, and photos of the family at Wrigley Field. He was a Cubs fanatic, and Cameron almost felt sorry that Eli never got to see them win a World Series. After Eli's wife died and his children grew up, Eli decided to take up little league coaching. That was where Cameron and Mike met him. They really got along during little league, and when they were old enough he offered them summer jobs working on his farm.
Even during the school year the old man's place was somewhere that Cameron and Mike could chill almost whenever they wanted.
"So what brings you here?" Eli asked, keeping his rifle next to his seat (it seemed rather precautionary).
Cameron rolled his eyes. "The same reason you just pointed a gun at me. Those fuckers overran my neighborhood. I had to get out. What do you think is happening?"
Eli snorted. "You're asking me? It's like something out of a bad horror movie." It was then and there that Cameron realized how lucky he was. In those bad horror movies if the main character had to get out, he or she normally wouldn't have the luxury of packing like Cameron had.
"Fuck," Cameron sighed. "The CDC, army, or whoever better take care of this."
"'Til then what're you gonna do?"
"Maybe I can stay here for a while?" he said hopefully.
Eli covered his mouth and groaned in frustration. "Fine, if it's just you then I guess it's okay."
"Well Mike should get here too."
"Of course," he grumbled. "Even during a pandemic you two are joined at the hip."
A minute later Cameron heard the crunching of gravel out front. Eli grabbed his gun as he went out, and Cameron was right behind him. After Mike's car came to a stop, the driver door flew open and Mike stumbled out.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit," he kept on repeating his breathing labored, his hands on his knees. "They just came out of nowhere." Mike looked up at them with fear in his eyes. "I barely made it out."
"Sorry, Mike, but take off your shirt and pants," Eli ordered, aiming the gun at him.
Mike was shocked and looked at Cameron for help, but he just shrugged in a get-it-over-with kind of way. Thankfully Mike was also pronounced clean.
When they got inside, Mike got his own glass of ginger ale (he asked for whiskey, only getting a stern look from the old man), and recounted his experience. It was mostly a carbon copy of Cameron's flight; except that Mike drove a car he was familiar with.
"This is all kinds of fucked up," he stammered after finishing. "My mom even called me. She said that those things were closing in on her building, and they all had to evacuate. I told her to come here."
"What!" Eli shouted, standing up. "God dammit! This isn't some fortress! Even I don't know how long I can hold out here, let alone with more people."
"Shit, Eli, sorry to think that we could count on you," Cameron admonished.
"Okay, that was over the top," he admitted, hands up in self-defense. "How about we figure all this out when Mike's mother gets here. 'Til then we'll keep an eye on the news."
And that they did. Over the next half hour they heard reports coming from other major cities around the world. London, Moscow, Paris, and even as far away as Tokyo they were seeing images of mass hysteria. More than once they saw a reporter out in the field, when out of nowhere a monster leaps into the shot to devour the newsperson.
"Oh god," the anchor would always say when they cut back to the studio. This time it was a black anchorwoman. She was shivering, her hair was disheveled, and she struggled to talk. "Well we hope here that Hank is alright. Let's take a break." The network cut to commercial.
A sudden chime came from Mike's pocket. "Hello," Mike said, answering his cell phone. "Okay. See you soon." He hung up. "We need bandages."
"Why?" Cameron and Eli asked at the same time in the same cautious tone.
"My mom's bringing someone from work, and he needs some medicine."
"Okay, go get some. I'll meet your mom outside so I can help."
Mike went to where all the first aid stuff was (he knew from their time working on the farm), and Cameron followed Eli outside.
"Thinking what I'm thinking?" Cameron asked.
"Yup," he said, grabbing his gun.
A minute later Mike's mom's car pulled up.
"Mom!" Mike shouted, coming out of the house with bandages.
"Oh my god," his mom cried in relief as she came out of the car to hug her son.
Cameron saw as the passenger door open, and a young, redheaded woman stepped out. She looked like she was in a state of shock. The woman proceeded to sit on the ground, hugging her knees.
"We need to help Gus," Mrs. Gibbons said, opening the backseat. She reached in and carefully pulled out a sickly looking man. He was pale with labored breathing, and, worst of all, a bite mark on his forearm.
When the man was laid on the ground, Mike poured from antiseptic on the wound and wrapped it up.
"We were evacuated too late," she proceeded to explain. "The three of us were going to my car when these rabid people got into the parking garage. One of them bit Gus, we managed to beat it off, and we just kept on running."
"Well I'm sorry to say, Mrs. Gibbons, but your friend here's infected now," Cameron said to her.
"I guess he's under the weather since then, but he just needs some medicine."
"We don't know if there is," Eli told her. "We've been watching the news and nobody seems to have a cure for this."
"So what does that mean?"
"It means that he's gonna turn into one of them."
She looked at Cameron. "What?"
"I saw it happen earlier. A person had just escaped that mess, but he was bit and turned rabid right in front of me," Cameron explained.
The man grunted in pain.
"He looks even worse, mom," Mike said, backing off a bit.
The breathing became more labored, until he vomited up a small fountain of blood, and the breathing stopped completely.
"Gus!" Mrs. Gibbons cried in horror. She rushed over to kneel next to the body, but Cameron knew first hand the danger in that.
"No!" Without hesitation, Cameron ran up and grabbed Mrs. Gibbons under her arms to try and drag her away.
But it was too late. Gus reanimated, let out a howl, and grabbed Mrs. Gibbon's leg.
"No you don't!" Eli shouted. He stomped down on the man's chest, aimed the rifle down, and pulled the trigger. Blood and brain splattered all over the ground.