The Most Uncommon Cold I - Life in the Time of Zombies by Jeffrey Littorno Read Free Book Online Page B

head as I drove too fast down the street. Usually, the words brought a smile to my face.  But under the circumstances in which I found myself, smiling was out of the question. 
         As I thought about the events of the day so far and the absolutely extraordinary things I had seen, I had a little trouble keeping the Jeep on the road and deciding on what to do next. I touched or rather caressed the DVD in my pocket as if it were the key to all of this, some sort of talisman that would protect me from the insanity infecting the world.  For the first time, I realized that I didn’t even know what was captured on the disc beyond what I had seen.
         The only thought that made even the slightest bit of sense to me was to head home.   Having a destination gave my mind something to focus upon rather than spinning off into other thoughts. Among these thoughts were images of a half torso crawling across the floor, a man in a bathrobe wandering aimlessly, and another man facing an airport security camera to reveal blood and flesh covering his teeth. I hardly noticed the nearly deserted bridge and freeway as I drove home.  The lack of traffic was fortunate for me since I arrived on my street with little conscience thought and no memory of the details. 
         The neighborhood was unusually silent for an early Friday evening although I did not take full notice. In fact, I parked the car in the garage at the ground level of the apartment building and hurried to the elevator and up to the fifth-floor apartment without noticing much of anything. 
         Everything came into sharp focus and was impossible to ignore when I started to insert the key to unlock the deadbolt on the door.  Rather than feeling the strength of a locked door, the slight touch of the key moved it open. A gasp might be a bit dramatic, but I know that my breath was knocked from me as I realized the door was open. 
         “Bonnie!” I yelled as I stepped inside.  “Bonnie!  Are you here?”  I heard nothing. 
         I dropped my briefcase on the couch and walked into the bedroom.
         “Bonnie?”  I asked quietly with fear that something truly terrible had happened here.  
        My mind flashed back on the memory of another time when I had returned home unexpectedly to find Bonnie was not alone.  That memory was brushed aside as I looked around the room.
         The bedroom was empty and the bed unmade.  I wondered how long she had been gone.  I touched the sheets where she had lain earlier and found that they were cool. The bed had obviously been empty for some time.
         I left the bedroom and trotted to the kitchen, bathroom, balcony, spare bedroom turned office , and back to the living room.  All were empty. 
         I wondered if Bonnie had felt better and had decided to go to school today after all.   I truly wanted to believe that was what happened even as the fact that the front door was unlocked pushed itself into my head.  I stuck my head out of the front door and looked both ways down the empty hallway.  As far as I knew, Bonnie had never socialized with anyone in the apartment building. I considered knocking on some doors but was embarrassed when I thought of myself asking, “Have you seen my wife?” 
         It occurred to me to check whether Bonnie’s car was in the garage.  As I stepped into the hallway, I felt entirely alone.  The feeling was not simply caused by the fact that the long corridor was empty.  It was somehow more than that.  As strange as it might sound, the air itself seemed to be heavy and pushing down separating me from everyone and everything in the world.  It was a strange feeling to have.  Maybe it was just a product of an extraordinarily strange situation.  In any case, the thought froze me as I looked both directions for any sign of life but saw none.  There was only the long series of doors.  Each was a different pastel color.  Blue, green, red,