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The news station on the TV blared with a tinny quality that made it almost grating to the ears at high volumes. The newscaster sat behind a desk, and though professional, it was obvious that there was strain in his voice.
“CEDA and the military are issuing orders for all citizens of the Savannah area to evacuate to the Vannah Hotel before 3:00 PM. Travel up the stairs to the roof of the building and avoid using elevators in case of emergency. They say any occupants in lower levels of the building upon 3:00 PM will be left behind.”
The newscaster began a new sentence, but he was cut off when horror flooded his face. There was a commotion caught in the background as he rambled an apology to the viewer, followed by screams in the background.
“Oh, God! God, Sheryll– Shut off the cameras, cut the feed! Cut the–“
The channel cut to a ‘stand by’ screen, as an annoying, shrill lost signal tone blared.
A man walked past the TV before shutting it off via the click of a remote, a heavy sigh passing his thin lips.
“Just great. First the airports shut down so I can’t get outta this shithole of a city, and now I gotta get to some shitty hick hotel,” he complained, looking at his reflection in the TV screen.
His relatively clean, crisp white suit stood as a testament to his dedication to staying inside once news broke of just how bad this infection was. He hadn’t encountered an infected person and he’d make it to that evacuation station before he ever had to.
He couldn’t risk lugging too many of his belongings with him. That’d only slow him down. He didn’t get attached to much, so deciding what in his suitcase to leave behind wasn’t a difficult task. Just his suit, his gold rings, his flip phone, his wallet, and a pocketknife were all he needed.
The hotel staff had last spoken to him three days ago, and they hadn’t answered the phone since. He could only assume that something bad happened to them, but it wasn’t his job to go check it out. He was no hero, and he certainly wasn’t gonna start being one when it put his life on the line.
He passed by the counter of the kitchenette in his small motel room, glancing at a brochure he found in a rest stop along his journey to Georgia. His plan was to play some suckers outta their money on one of Georgia’s casino boats. See, gambling was illegal in Georgia, but not in international waters.
It was a gray area, and that’s exactly where Nick preferred to operate.
Unfortunately, his gambling dreams would have to wait. Evacuation was his top priority. Always look out for number one.
He peeked out the windows of the room, seeing, eerily, nothing. That was almost worse than seeing some kind of tragedy, which is what he expected. He then peered out of the peephole, and again, saw nothing. He figured it was as good a time as any to get on his way, so he unlocked the door and swung it open.
The streets were quiet compared to what he’d usually expect of such a big city. It was a little freaky, walking across the parking lot in what felt like a parallel universe. While he was here, he might as well pass by the front desk, right? Just outta curiosity.
He approached the small room that usually held a receptionist on the other side of the motel, and despite his gut telling him that he wouldn’t like what he saw next, he pushed the half-ajar door open. His grayish-blue eyes swept over the room, though he spotted something dark seeping out from the side of the desk.
He moved closer, only to discover that the young girl that had manned the desk when he checked in three days ago had been…
Jesus, he didn’t even know what to call it. Slaughtered? Ripped apart? Eaten? Mauled? All of those sounded like they about covered it, but knowing that someone that looked and acted like them only a week or so ago did this to her… The words alone didn’t convey enough horror.
The woman’s lifeless body, stripped of some of her flesh and skin, had bled out on the carpeted floor. Despite most of her face being disfigured, he could tell that it was twisted into a pained grimace. Not only did the sight not exactly quell his anxieties about how his trip to the EVAC station would fare, but…
“Christ, this shit stinks like all hell,” he mumbled to himself, covering his nose with his hand and backing away.
He left out the door he came through and ventured out into the street. There were no cars on the road, aside from abandoned ones that blocked pathways or had crashed into each other. What a depressing sight. If he’d tried to get outta here even a day ago, he might’ve had a better chance to catch a bus or something, but public buses brought a lot of germs that he’d rather not deal with.
Not that he’d exactly get a choice anymore.
That hotel was visible in the distance, maybe only a few miles away. It was a tall building, so it wasn’t hard to miss. Plus, there seemed to be helicopters coming and going from there, and that was really the only sign of life in this damn city.
If only one of those helicopters would touch down right in front of him and save him the trouble.
Nick traversed the streets of Savannah, his criminal instincts making him hyper-aware of every little noise and causing a suspicion of everything that bordered on paranoia. There was no way he’d get outta this without running into some kinda trouble and he knew it. He had brought his knife outta his pocket a few yards back, and he kept his eyes peeled for any signs of movement.
In all his time drifting from city to city, he hadn’t seen one that scared him more than this one did. Maybe it was the fact that he was deep into the South and he held some disdain for the… residents. Or, and this was the more likely reason, he knew that if he died here, some redneck hick would probably loot his body for his $10,000 suit and gold rings.
He shuddered at the thought. Nobody was getting their hands on one of the last things he had left to show others that he was worth more than them.
Eventually, Nick found himself in a predicament of sorts– a fork in the road, if you will. He could stick to the main roads and take the long way ‘round to the hotel, or he could cut through some alleys and get there faster. Only problem with alleys is that shady shit always happened in there– he’d know.
Despite his reservations, he was on foot and didn’t have time to waste. He had confidence that he could take on any shithead that challenged him, Infected or not. This wasn’t the first or last time his life would be at risk.
He bit the bullet and trudged into the littered alleyway, the stench of rotting garbage filling his nose. He nearly gagged at the smell, only able to imagine what kinds of disgusting germs lingered here. He’d be sure to clean himself first chance he got.
“Just gotta get through it, don’t think too hard,” he mumbled to himself in an edgy tone, focused on what was ahead of him rather than what lined the walls of the alleys.
As he went on, he heard some grunting and whispering up ahead. Shit… Maybe there was someone else making their way to the hotel just like him. It made him feel a little better that he wasn’t the only one talking to themselves.
“Hello?” he called out loud. “Hey, ya need some directions? I’m headed to the EVAC station too.”
There wasn’t a response and he thought that was strange. Somebody in the same situation as him would be glad to hear someone who didn’t sound like a zombie, right? N–not that he… y’know, needed anybody. He could take it alone.
“Hey, you out there? No need to be shy,” he said again, letting out a short, dry, uncertain chuckle at the end that sounded more like a huff.
He cautiously turned the corner, knife gripped tightly in his right hand. There was a woman standing in the corner, almost idly. She didn’t seem to register his presence, only shuffling awkwardly and holding her head, making little noises to herself.
“Sweetheart? Can ya hear me?” he asked in a hesitant voice.
The woman whipped her head around, eyes blank and almost glowing like a cat’s. She had a wild, teeth-bared grimace on her face as she growled at him. It didn’t sound human. She was covered in blood and–
“Shit, shit, shit, stay back!” Nick shouted as she charged at him.
Despite his run-ins with life-threatening situations in the past, none of them could have prepared him for some zombie bitch to lunge at him like this. What happened if he got bit? That’s how zombies work, right?
She grabbed at him, reeking of death as he fell to the dirty ground, wrestling with her. He grunted in effort as he attempted to keep her face away from him. She tried to dig her nails into him, but his thick suit mostly protected him from it.
Her jaws hung open, drool hanging from her lips as she let out an animalistic squeal. If he didn’t stop her soon, her infection-ridden spit would drop right into his face, and he did not like the sound of that.
“Get the hell offa me, bitch!”
He drove his knife into her neck, watching as she squirmed and choked on blood. Once she finally stopped moving, he finally pushed her limp body off of him with a disgusted expression. His hand and knife were covered in a thick substance that looked a lot like blood but was less watery.
He looked down at his suit, and what was once a blank canvas was now painted crimson. He let out a sound of frustration and stood up, dusting himself off with his clean hand.
Yet another way women have ruined his life.
He continued through the alleyways, stabbing Infected before they even had a chance to see him. There was no use in trying to save his suit now, as much as it upset him. He’d at least try to stop somewhere long enough to wash his hands, though.
This shit was really serious– way more serious than the news and CEDA let on. There were people in the streets literally attacking him like they were mindless, rabid animals. If everyone washed their hands a little more like he did, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess.
The alleyways finally let out onto a main road again, and he searched for any source of water he could find. He passed by abandoned stores and restaurants, but most of them looked too derelict to hope for a working sink.
As he meandered toward the hotel, he managed to stumble upon a restaurant that still had its lights on. This was a good sign. He stepped through the large, broken window, still holding his knife tightly in his hand, careful not to make too much noise in case there were Infected in here that stood to be alerted.
There were men’s and women’s restrooms towards the back, and as he pushed the door open to the men’s restroom, he wasn’t greeted with any zombies. Nice.
He stood before one of the sinks and turned on the faucet, pleasantly surprised and relieved to see water spraying from it. He quickly washed his hands and knife, utilizing what little soap was left in the containers attached to the wall, watching the red water swirl down the drain. Once his hands were finally clean, he felt like he could breathe again.
Now, to the real order of business: his suit.
He wetted some paper towels and pumped a dollop of soap onto them, scrubbing at the bloodstains on his suit. They were stubborn, but he’d gotten blood out of clothes many times before. It didn’t help that it was white, but he had a taste for the finer things in life and a white suit screamed ‘luxury’.
That sense of luxury bit him in the ass now that it was the end of the world, though.
The stains, though not completely removed, were now reduced to a faint, rusty brown. That was the best he could ask for at the moment.
Satisfied with himself, he exited the restaurant and went back out onto the street. The hotel was looming over him, only a block or two away. If he jogged straight toward it, he’d make it there in no time. No need to wait, he did exactly that.
All he could think about was where CEDA would be evacuating them to. The whole US was taken over by the… What were they calling it? The great flu… No, that wasn’t right. The Green Flu, yeah! That was it. If CEDA didn’t catch it before people traveled to other countries on planes, maybe it’d spread to the entire world by now. It’s not like he’d be able to tell anymore. Based on how it sounded, everyone in that news studio got eaten by zombies. He shook his head of the awful images his mind conjured up.
Once he made it to the hotel, he was breathing heavily and wishing he had been in better shape before this whole thing. The building didn’t look as inviting as a hotel should. It seemed more like a tomb or death trap than a place to rest and relax.
Whatever. If the evac station was at the top, there was no point in staying down here. He had to get a move on.
He entered the lobby of the hotel, seeing signs that pointed toward fire exit stairs labeled ‘CEDA EVAC STATION ON ROOF’. He darted into the stairwell, and instead of being met with stairs that went up the entirety of the hotel, they only went up one floor each. He had to run across the hallway of each floor to access the other set of stairs, and back and forth for…
He stared at the number on the door. Floor five out of thirty?!
“What kind of hillbilly builds a hotel without a functional fire exit?!” he griped with exhaustion lacing his tone. “I hate Georgia! No legal gambling and the hotels are shit!”
He continued up the stairs, complaining the entire way under his breath. Something in the air began to smell odd and heavy, but he brushed it off as the A/C pumping around the smell of disease. Once he ran across the next hallway and started up the stairs once more, he heard voices echoing off the walls– and they actually seemed coherent.
“This shit is gonna take me out before the infection does…” an older man groaned.
“Come on, man! You can do it! Just a few more floors and we’re home free!” a younger sounding man proclaimed jovially. He had a thick Southern accent.
“Easy for you to say, you’re young yet.”
Nick clamored up the stairs in order to reach them, glad to encounter other people as much as he hated to admit it. The two men whirled their heads around at him, seeming up in arms for only a moment before Nick dashed past them.
“Outta my way, slowpokes! I’m gettin’ the hell outta this city! Try and keep up!” He didn’t look back to see if they followed him.
“Hey, wait up, dude!” the younger one called out.
“Not a chance, sport! Survival of the fittest!”
He passed through the hallway and kept going up the stairs, back and forth. He would occasionally hear the other men, but he tuned them out. The only thing that mattered to him was the sounds of a helicopter as he neared the roof.
Nick eventually reached the entrance of another hallway, but it was blocked by debris and furniture. He looked around for another way out, but this was it. There was a woman in a pink shirt standing beside it, stress evident on her face.
“I’ve been stuck up here for a–“ she began, but cut herself off.
“Shit, shit, shit! Dammit!” Nick tried to shove at the debris, but he wasn’t strong enough on his own.
Now he’d be forced to wait for those other two people and ask for their help with his tail tucked between his legs after he pretty much abandoned them. This shit was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.
After about nine minutes, he heard the steps of two people tromp up the metal stairs. He hadn’t bothered striking up a conversation with the woman beside him. He only stood there awkwardly with her, though he tried to hide it. The other men tried to catch their breath, inspecting the situation before them.
“Help me move this shit outta the way so we can keep goin’!” Nick instructed, beginning to shoulder ram it, struggling.
The other three people didn’t hesitate, rushing to his aid and pushing at the furniture. With great effort, they broke past the barrier, creating just enough space to squeeze through.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with whoever ahead of us thought that was a good idea!” the woman remarked.
“Tell me about it!” Nick replied.
The group of four would finish climbing the final sets of stairs together, despite Nick’s reservations about being held up by others. There was no telling if he’d need their help and he’d rather not stand around like an idiot again. The girl and the hick ran past him without a problem, and because he had wasted all of his energy earlier, he lagged behind even the bigger guy.
“Who the hell…” The man panted. “…puts an EVAC station… up thirty flights of goddamn stairs…?”
“Come on, man.” Nick just barely moved past him, his lungs also threatening to give up on him. “Maybe the helicopter… Maybe it’s made of chocolate.”
He let out a dry, tired laugh as the other man scowled at him.
Once the four of them reached the door that gave access to the roof and opened it, they watched the final helicopter fly off without them. They attempted to wave the pilot down, begging for help, but there was no way they could be heard over the propellers.
“Hey, where is errybody?! Hello?!” The young one’s voice echoed off the concrete building.
“Okay, this is not happening…” The woman calmly muttered to herself, though her words were laced with disbelief. She held her hand to her head.
“Anyone ‘ere?!”
“This is not happening… This is not happening…”
Nick stepped forward, squinting past the sun to watch the helicopter in the distance.
“Aren’t they ‘sposed ‘ta be savin’ our asses?!” The older man’s voice was filled with disappointment and vitriol.
Nick doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. The evening sun made his dark, slicked back hair glow a golden color. What a shitshow…
“Looks like there’s been a change ‘a plans…”