7
Outbreak Day 0
Jon sped into the driveway, hitting the brakes and nearly sliding into the garage as the tires squealed. He jumped out of the driver’s seat, turned the truck off, and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Slamming the door behind him, he ran into the house. Sirens rang out from all around, every emergency vehicle in the city out on the streets and creating a chorus of panic. Jon heard screams coming from either direction down the street, but ignored them as he ran into the house.
The door was locked, and he fought off the urge to kick it down as he fumbled to get his keys out of his pocket. His hands shook and he cursed, almost dropping them. Then, as he was sticking the correct key into the door, it opened. Carrie stood there. Jon pushed past her, turning around and shutting the door and locking it. His wife had never looked so scared to see him.
“Jon, talk to me.”
“It’s time,” he said. “Grab your bag.”
Spencer entered the living room. “What’s going on?”
“Take care of him,” Jon said to Carrie. “Get your things and meet me in the garage.”
The boy tried to get more answers from his dad, but Carrie pulled their son aside and hurried off toward the bedrooms. Jon and Carrie had talked through this plan, knowing it had the potential to come to fruition, and he trusted his wife to execute it.
A couple of days earlier, as the threat of a global pandemic had grown, Jon and Carrie had decided to pack their Go Bags, agreeing to bring only essential items. Jon had hoped they wouldn’t have to leave, but was thankful they would at least have somewhere to go. That place was a log home an hour and a half away in East Tennessee, which Carrie’s parents had left her when they’d passed. The place was off the grid. It would be safe.
Jon went to the hallway on the other side of the house and pulled the string to open the attic. Climbing the ladder, he grabbed a large duffle bag and dropped it to the ground below. He climbed back down and opened the bag, confirming its contents. The three guns he owned, including a shotgun, handgun, and rifle, were all inside, along with ammunition. He zipped it closed and picked it up.
He then walked through the kitchen to the door to the garage, getting there at nearly the same time as Carrie and Spencer. Seeing that Jon’s hands were full, Carrie opened the door.
In the garage, Jon set the bag down next to two packs of bottled water and a collection of non-perishable food they’d collected. Outside, the sirens continued to sound, and it would become louder once the garage door opened.
“Dad, what’s going on out there?” Spencer asked.
Jon ignored his son’s question. “Listen, when this garage door opens, you’re both to immediately get into the truck. Don’t look around. Keep your eyes on the truck and get inside. Do you understand?”
Both his wife and son nodded and said, “Yes.”
Seeing that his son was scared, Jon put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and pulled his focus from the situation in order to find a moment of empathy. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. Just keep a hold of your mom’s hand and jump in the back seat of the truck. Okay?”
Tears in his eyes, Spencer nodded. Jon then looked at his wife. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Cupping either side of her face, Jon kissed her. Then, he went to the button for the garage door opener. Pulling out his keys, he hit the button on his keyless entry to unlock the truck's doors, faintly hearing the click come from outside.
“Get in the truck, and I’ll load this shit up and be right there.”
Jon exhaled, and then he hit the button as the sun poured into the garage from outside. Carrie took Spencer’s hand and hurried to the door, each carrying their bags. Without waiting for it to raise all the way up, Carrie ducked under, keeping a tight hold on her son’s hand and encouraging him to keep his eyes on the truck and not to look around. The sirens had grown louder with the door open, and Jon heard more screams coming from around the neighborhood.
He grabbed the weapon bag first, tossing it into the bed of the truck. But as he turned to head back to the garage, he heard a deafening scream to his right. He followed it and watched as, two houses down, his neighbor Donna was attacked by an infected. The man tackled her to the ground and straddled her as she fought to get him off, pounding her fists against any part of him that she could. He leaned down to her, and she screamed louder as the infected man bit her.
Jon heard another scream, this one coming from inside the truck. It was from his son. Carrie reached into the backseat and covered the boy’s eyes, telling him to look down at the floor of the truck.
Jon had to get them out of there.
He hurried back into the garage and grabbed more supplies, having to make a couple of more runs.
On the last run, Jon was holding a case of water in his hand when he saw an infected man approaching the back of the truck. He lumbered down the side of it, his eyes focused on Jon. Jon realized his mistake as the man came toward him—he’d put all of the weapons in the truck.
Carrie and Spencer cried out as they saw the man, but he kept his eyes on Jon. Dropping the case of water, Jon searched the garage for something, anything that he could use to combat the infected man. He looked to his right and saw something sticking up out of a box.
Jon pulled the baseball bat out of the box as if he were unsheathing a claymore. He lifted it onto his
