Free The Reaper Virus by Nathan Barnes Page A

people
outside our door was another matter entirely.
    A few of the people had bandaged wounds. My
guess was that they’d been bitten. However, the bandaged ones
seemed to be blending in with the crowd. We’d see how long that
lasted once they turned.
     
    * * *
     
    1730 hours:
     
    Most everyone had gotten to take a nap in the
manager’s office. The last person, the new girl that woke me up,
was taking her turn.
    Our building was separated into three
sections: A – communications, B – patrol/security/ communal areas,
and C – all administrative offices, access to record storage,
property and evidence rooms. It was a solid building. Before it was
transformed into a police station it was a bar. Long before that it
was something else. Whatever it was, it was still a solid old brick
building. The reality was we could be in a much worse place.
    Some of the security people who got locked in
made a similar sleeping set-up in the gym area. Everyone was taking
turns getting some rest. Good thing too, since this wasn’t your
average overtime assignment.
    I finally talked to Sarah again. The phones
were still going nuts, but I neglected them for a few minutes. She
was hearing more gunshots but none had been close. Living in the
good ol’ capital of the South, we had a shitload of rednecks in our
neighborhood. I’d always suspected our neighborhood would be better
armed than a small country.
    The kids were napping when I called.
Evidently they were taking things pretty well. The whole thing must
have felt like a campout or something. I reiterated to Sarah that
the house needed to look empty. She promised the drapes were
staying closed and the only outside views came from peeking through
cracks.
    She asked when I was coming home. Again I
said soon. I told her that if I’m not able to get out of here in a
few days, she needs to get the kids in the car and head to the
farm. After a tearful protest she eventually agreed.
    Something was going on outside, it sounded
like the screams were louder than usual…
     
    * * *
     
    1911 hours:
     
    I was beginning to realize why we hadn’t seen
more infected outside – they just hadn’t turned yet.
    Thankfully I had just hung up with Sarah when
we started hearing the renewed panic outside. The small
congregation of desperate souls that had gathered outside of our
building let out a joint shriek. It was loud enough to hear through
the outer solid brick construction and drab office atmosphere.
    We jointly abandoned the phones and ran to
the shuttered windows but we couldn’t see much. People were running
west towards 7-Eleven. That struck me as odd. Nothing outside was
what you would think of as orderly. Cars were strewn about, store
windows were broken, and the air was polluted by distant smoke, but
suddenly everyone was running in one direction? Then it hit me –
they were running from something.
    I stepped back from my colleagues at the
window to look at the security monitor mounted above the main door.
It was hard to discern details from the poor quality picture. I saw
a lot of people running, tripping, stampeding over each other. One
person, looked like an older woman, was knocked down and stayed
that way. Just beyond her sprawled, westward reaching body I saw
what started the flood of panic.
    My initial count was four; that doubled
quickly. They walked in a slow but determined way. It was hard to
see individual features in the poor light, but the silhouettes were
unmistakably chilling. Most walked at the same shuffled yet
determined pace.
    The two in the front walked quicker. I
wouldn’t call it a run though. It reminded me of those ridiculous
speed walking old people in the mall. All stood in unnaturally
stiff positions, their heads all lying limply at different angles.
I think that’s what bothered me most. Then again, I couldn’t see
specific details – I’m sure there were other things more bothersome
about them.
    Their advancement forward was direct and
westbound. I tried