He looked at his mom when he finished recording the number. “Should I call them?”
Claire sat silently for a moment, deep in thought. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” She said, her voice barely audible. She looked up at Dale and nodded again. “Yeah, I think we should.” She said, with more conviction this time.
Dale agreed. “They won’t show up until tomorrow anyway. I think that dad and Darren will make it back here before then. We’ll stick to the original plan and make this our back-up plan.”
Dale headed to the kitchen to make the call. The person on the other end was all business.
“Does anybody in the household have symptoms of HAPS?”
“No.” That was a lie. Well, he wasn’t really sure...
“Please provide your address.” Dale gave him the address.
“Please provide the phone number associated with this address and the names, ages and relationships of the people at your location.” Dale answered dutifully. He was put on hold for several minutes before the voice on the other end spoke up again.
“You are Dale Alfred Moore?”
“Yes.”
“Your name does not match the address supplied.”
“Yeah. This is my parents’ place.”
“All civilians were to stay at their own home during this state of emergency. Why did you travel to your parents’ location?”
“Uh–” Think quick, Dale!
“I was here at the start of the emergency, sir. I stayed here when I saw the President on tv, asking everybody to stay in their house and not travel.”
The other end was silent for a few seconds. “Very well.” Then, after a brief pause. “According to my records, there is a Thomas Quincy Moore listed at your location. You did not mention him.”
“Yes sir. He–”
“Was he infected with HAPS?”
“No sir.”
He could tell that the person on the line was considering this information. “Well, why is he not at your location?”
“Tom is my dad. He left to go pick up my brother. ... We haven’t heard from him since he left.”
Once again there was a pregnant pause on the other end.
“Do you expect him back tomorrow?”
Now it was Dale’s turn to pause and consider. “I don’t know.”
“Very well.” The person on the other end then proceeded to repeat all the pertinent information back to Dale and asked him to confirm.
“Yes sir, that is all correct.” Dale replied. Fucking government and their red tape. He thought.
“Please pack one bag only, with your personal belongings. We recommend clothing and toiletries only. There will be no weapons allowed into the safe zone. Be prepared for evacuation anytime from 10 a.m.to 4 P.M.. You will receive a phone call within fifteen minutes of your actual evacuation. You must comply with the instructions that you will receive at that time. Any breach of these instructions, including the one bag per person rule, can be used as grounds to refuse evacuation services to you. Is this understood?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you and good luck.” It sounded dry and rehearsed.
“Ok. Thank you. Goodbye.” Dale hung up. He turned back to the living room and spotted his mom peeking out the window around a corner of the curtains.
“Mom.” He whispered urgently. She did not stir, other than to beckon him towards her. Dale walked over and crept behind his mom, so he could see over the top of her head.
There was a small crowd of roughly a dozen zombies congregated around their earlier kills. A dead man lay in the middle of the street, less than 30 yards away, with several zombies standing around the corpse. It was the man that Dale had seen getting torn apart. He lay on his side, facing down the street. Thankfully, his features were hard to discern in the fading light. An arm lay a couple of yards away. The brutality of that arm getting torn off replayed in Dale’s mind.
He’d seen enough. He gently pulled his mom away from the curtains. They sat down on the couch. “It’s ok. We’ll be ok...” He said without much conviction.
“They’re back.” Claire stated.
“Yeah. Maybe they still have some basic memory function, that takes them back to their home, or to their last... um, kill.”
Claire just nodded. Nothing was shocking anymore. Or maybe everything was equally shocking.
Dale continued. “We should keep as quiet as possible. And we should turn off all the lights. They don’t seem to move around on their own. I haven’t seen them actively looking for people...”
Claire nodded. “You’re right. Let’s eat something and go to bed early. Something tells me that we will need all of our energy and concentration tomorrow.”
Dale smiled at his mom. She really was stronger than a lot of people gave her credit for.
Himself included.
Dale carefully snuck into the kitchen to retrieve items, while his mom instructed him what to collect. Out of the corner of his eye, he still saw the two zombies in the far corner of the back yard. They hadn’t stirred at all. Within five minutes, mother and son sat down for a quiet dinner.
They ate a meal of cold leftovers, followed by a delicious chocolate pudding. Dale had always been impressed by how his mom could produce the most amazing meals. She always stated that it was the ingredients. It was the one thing she would not compromise on. She bought organic foods only, and even had one of those home-delivery services for the hard-to-find ingredients.
Dale had put their dishes back in the kitchen after supper and was returning to the living room. “Hey mom...”
“Yes Dale?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I might be infected with the syndrome...” Dale grimaced, fearing the reaction of his mother.
“I know you have been having stomach pain. Let’s not jump to conclusions yet, though.”
“You knew?”
“Of course, I knew. I’m your mother.” That really was all she needed to say.
Dale should have realized that his mom knew. She always knew when something was wrong with him. His mind drifted to his youth. The big fight with Jeffrey ‘Stinky’ Stikovic. The crush on and rejection by Angela Sandler. His first experience
