Dahmer Flu by Christopher Cox Read Free Book Online Page A

their Dad, he couldn’t control the car and we flipped, we were just driving too fast. I got my son out, but my husband was stuck… I think he’s dead.”
    The woman turned her head as I passed, watching me with suspicious eyes. I ignored her, scanning the road ahead for movement. Greedily, I eyed the scene of the accident and the resulting spoils. As she had said, the body in the driver’s seat was badly mangled; it was a miracle that anyone survived at all. Dirt rested throughout the vehicle, and weeds were growing through the broken windshield and twisted metal.
    Weeds were growing through the windshield and twisted metal. It hit me, and my muddled mind snapped into a harsh focus. This accident wasn’t recent.
    My hand flashed to my coat, reaching for my weapon. She was faster. Her hands were a blur as she brought a canister to my face and pressed the release. Instantly, my eyes detonated with searing pain, forcefully closing and filling with painful tears. My pistol clattered to the ground as I brought my hands to my face, clawing at my useless eyes.
    Aimee screamed. “What the-”, but was cut short by another sound of discharging aerosol. She screamed and I felt her bury her face in my shoulder and force us both to the ground. Betrayed, she screamed, “You bi-”, but her voice died out with the pain. I tried to retrieve the pistol I had dropped, but felt small hands pulling it away before I could gain a solid grip. Through swollen, tear-filled eyes, I saw the junior John leap to his feet, clutching the weapon triumphantly. After that, I couldn’t see anything at all as my eyes were forced shut by the swelling.
    We had been deceived- the living hadn’t changed at all.
    I continued rubbing my eyes, which lessened the pain only slightly, and felt Aimee writing by my side. I see blurred images through the narrow slits that my eyes would allow, and saw that the woman covered us with my own pistol as she checked our pockets. Finding Aimee’s small revolver, she handed it to John who set it aside obediently. She watched as we writhed on the ground, with mucus running freely from our nostrils and our eyes watering uncontrollably.
    After a few minutes, the pain began to get bearable and I sat up; Aimee did the same next to me. The woman’s voice was tinged with genuine concern. “Are you two okay? I think that was too much- I’ve never done this before.”
    “What do you want from us?” I asked. I was trying to sound aggressive, but my voice was unsteady with ache.
    “Listen,” she started. She was armed and my wife and I were nearly blind and helpless- we listened. “We’re from Oak Bridge. It’s a real small town about a mile that way.” She paused for a moment; “Sorry, East. About a mile east. We thought we were safe there, we were so isolated; life just continued like normal for us when the flu hit and the rest of the world went to hell. But then those bastards started migrating. That’s what we called it, migrating,” she explained, then paused. I heard movement and assumed that she pulled her children close to her.
    She sighed deeply and continued. “When they showed up, none of us saw it coming- we just weren’t ready. It was in the middle of the day, and it was John’s birthday; we didn’t think we had anything to be afraid of, figured that the government would take care of it so just lived life like we always did. All the kids in town were there with their parents, most everyone in town showed up. The kids were playing hide-and-seek.” Aimee and I sat still, not knowing if we’d live or die when the story was over, and didn’t want to rush her decision.
    “We heard a little girl scream. I think it was the Martinez kid, she was the first one to come running up, anyways. Her brother was running behind her, crying and holding his arm. Even from where we were, we could see that his arm was covered with blood. I think we all knew deep down what was happening, but no one wanted to believe it