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  As we neared the freeway which took us out of Carnival, I saw that cars still crowded all the lanes and no one was moving.

  “How can this be the same as yesterday?” said Bonnie. “The traffic hasn't moved at all.”

  There was a mini-van in front of us piled full of children. I put the SUV in park and got out of the vehicle. Mark immediately followed me.

  The man at the wheel looked pale and harried. When he saw us, he rolled his window down a few inches.

  “Have you heard anything new?” I asked.

  “Only that it's happening all over the world. And when it rains, these things become frozen and don't move.”

  I was mindful of the children playing in the back seat so I lowered my voice. “We put a mirror under their noses. They're not breathing.”

  He nodded as if this was old news. “That's on the internet,” he said.

  I leaned closer. “What did they say about it?”

  He lowered his own voice. “All over the world, they're frozen in place. Scientists aren't sure whether to declare them dead or not.” He looked back over his shoulder to make sure his children weren't listening. “Because they're not decomposing.”

  It was what we suspected. I didn't know what to say.

  The man continued, “The news said that half the world changed and half didn't. Pretty weird. And they have no idea what the changed people have in common....or what the unaffected have in common.”

  “How long have you been stuck here?” asked Mark.

  The man looked at his watch. “Going on four hours. We've made it about two miles I guess. I hope we have enough gas to make it to the border. I hope things are better in Mexico.”

  We wished him a safe trip and walked back to our vehicle.

  I decided to try the other route out of town since the freeway was still a parking lot. I drove on the breakdown lane and got off the freeway at the next exit.

  “Why aren't these people moving?” I said with frustration as we ran into another bottleneck on Jefferson Boulevard. “Nothing has changed since last night. Is there a giant wreck or something?”

  “Not a wreck,” said Kitty. “Abandoned cars. Once they started to howl at the moon, they walked away from their vehicles. Now they're clogging the roads from here to who knows where.”

  The enormity of her explanation silenced us.

  “Half the world transformed” I said. “That's a whole bunch of cars.”

  After a moment Mark said, “We should stay here and hunker down.”

  Before I could voice my opposing opinion, we heard the shrill scream of an emergency siren approaching from behind us. A moment later a firetruck passed us on the side of the road. An ambulance followed the firetruck. The fast-moving vehicles stirred up a ton of dust in their wake. I couldn't see the road for the dust. Then a concussive explosion slammed into us and my SUV leaped into the air. I screamed as we crashed back to earth with a bone-shattering whump. I slammed my foot on the brakes and my car skidded into the break-down lane.

  “Is everyone alive?” My voice held a tremor as I fought the urge to burst into tears. “Stupid airbags didn't even deploy. I should have listened to that recall I got last month.”

  Everyone affirmed they were still among the living. A moment later, the dust cleared and we saw a huge wall of smoke ahead of us. Half the city was on fire. The oil refinery on the outskirts of town had exploded.

  I looked in the mirror to see Rebecca holding Nova in her arms. She patted Nova's soft coat and the dog quieted. This small gesture of kindness touched my heart. I couldn't stop myself from bursting into tears, and there was no stopping the waterworks this time. Mark took me in his arms and held me as I wept and seemed unable to stop. The grip he had on me felt like the jaws of life encircling my body. I felt protected and bullet-proof.

  Finally, he said to the others, “It's going to be hard getting to Austin with the wall-to-wall abandoned cars. Also, that fire is going to close the roads that lead out of town heading south. Those are the roads we need.”

  Before anyone could argue, he held up a hand. “I know you're all worried about your families and I get that. But here's something else to think about. Have you noticed how many convenience stores are closed? What happens if we can't get any fuel between here and Austin? Then we'll be on foot which is not an ideal situation.”

  Kitty said, “Out of gas and on foot. Super dangerous.”

  I sniffed and wiped my nose with my hand. “Okay, this time we need to take a vote.”

  Chapter 6

  “What if stores are looted plumb down to Austin?” said Bonnie. “We could get stuck out there with no gas in the tank.”

  “I could get fuel from the gas pumps,” said Mark, “provided there was any fuel left in them.”

  “Oy, let me guess,” Swagger said with a smirk. “Grandpa worked at a gas station in a previous life?”

  Mark's mouth turned up at the corners. “Yep. Way back when.”

  “Okay then, Dr. Mark has changed my vote,” said Swagger. “I say we go.”

  Mark continued as if Swagger had not spoken. “It could be that people with the same skill set have already thought of this idea and drained the tanks dry. I'm sure there's more than one person in Texas who could get the job done.”

  “All right,” said Kitty. “Then my vote is to stay here for the time being.”

  “Agreed,” said Rebecca.

  “My mom,” I said. “My brother … I vote we go.”

  “I've changed my vote again,” said Swagger. “I say we stay here as well.”

  Kitty rolled her eyes. “Swagger, you're about as wishy-washy as a willow tree in a hurricane.”

  Swagger frowned. “And what's that supposed to mean, Miss L.A. Law?”

  “I'd explain it to you, but you might experience a brain overload.”

  Swagger looked confused. “What?”

  “Look at the smoke coming out of your ears. It's already started.”

  “Never mind,” soothed Rebecca as she ruffled Swagger's blue hair.

  He leaned against her shoulder. “Oy love, you're the only one who gets me.”

  “There's not much to get,” Kitty said under her breath.

  Mark's gaze held mine and his eyes were full of sympathy. “It looks like we have a majority.” His voice turned brusque and business-like as he addressed the group. “If we're going to stay here, we need to turn your house into a fortress.”

  Mark drove because my nerves were on edge after the SUV decided to go airborne and imitate a bird. We arrived home after navigating our way through a town full of frozen Chompers. The day seemed anti-climatic to me. I had hoped to be half-way to Austin by now, or at least making progress toward that goal. Instead, here we were still stuck in Carnival and I worried even more about my mom and brother. Fear slammed into me like a runaway tractor-trailer. I wanted them here with us so we could protect them.

  But I was grateful my vehicle still worked. Mark discovered that someone had removed the airbags somewhere along the way. Since I had bought the vehicle at a used car lot, it was anyone's guess when they went missing. At least there was no serious damage to the SUV.

  We turned on the TV and found it was still working. I checked my phone and found it working as well. I called my mom and she answered immediately, as if she had been waiting by her phone.

  I told her what had happened and she agreed with the group's reasoning and their vote.

  “It's for the best darling. You shouldn't be out on those dangerous roads. Austin is full of abandoned cars and the police are having trouble clearing the roads. I heard the impound yards are full to capacity. Now they're storing vehicles in public parks and landfills.”

  I asked about my brother Steve.

  “He's here and I don't know what I'd do without him. Right now he's outside securing the house to make it safer. Classes are canceled at U.T. for the indefinite future so he's busy helping around the house. We stocked up on food which is good because most of the grocer
y stores are closed. People are scared to leave their houses. Those people out there aren't moving and some say they're dead. No one wants to move them because they would overwhelm hospitals and funeral homes. The other problem is if they aren't decomposing, then how can they be dead? Some families have taken their loved ones home, but not everyone is comfortable with that choice.”

  I shared what I had heard about half the people on the planet infected, but my mom already knew this.

  “Thank goodness for the internet,” I said. “At least we know what going on up to the minute.”

  “Well, I actually heard that on CNN.” After a moment, she said, “Gigi, something is happening on the news. I'll call you back later.”

  I ran to the living room where everyone gave their full attention to the TV. A reporter was speaking in a hurried, excited voice which conveyed both fear and wonder.

  “I'm in Sao Paolo, Brazil where it has finally stopped raining,” he said. “According to our sources, the frozen people known as Chompers are starting to move again.”

  I gasped as the camera panned away from the reporter's face and toward a group of Chompers. They appeared to be moving … very, very slow … as if they were stretching their legs after a long, deep sleep.

  The reporter said, “Scientists are calling this the Rip Van Winkle Effect.”

  “Lord, they already have a name for it,” said Kitty.

  He continued, “As you can see, the Chompers have been standing in this same spot for the entire night. Some scientists felt they were actually dead, but this has caused wide-spread debate. The CDC now tells us us that some sort of suspended animation has taken place. The reason why they have not started to decompose is because they aren't actually dead.”

  Kitty flipped to another channel and we watched a similar report from another part of the world. This time in South Africa a reporter informed us that the Chompers were waking up there as well.

  Bonnie frowned. “It's creepy the way they move. Almost as if they're sleep walking.”

  “They remind me of people who do strange things like drive their cars while under the influence of sleeping pills,” said Rebecca. “They don't realize what they're doing because they're like zombies.”

  “Zombies.” Bonnie's voice quavered. “Hate those things. Those no-account monsters.”

  “Look,” said Rebecca, “Something is happening.”

  The reporter in Africa continued to speak to the camera. He didn't notice that a Chomper was behind him and moving closer to where he stood addressing the TV audience. Other Chompers also advanced on the oblivious man who continued to speak in an excited voice. Instead of the chomping sound, the newly resurrected people now produced an ugly gurgling noise. It was if their throats were full of phlegm or they were in the middle of drowning.

  “Turn around!” Bonnie screamed at the reporter as if he could hear her half a world away.

  He finally turned and the words died in his throat.

  Chapter 7

  It was the same information on every TV channel and every internet report. We watched in disbelief as over and over again reporters were attacked by the newly awakened Chompers.

  We watched a group of Chompers overwhelm a reporter because he seemed frozen and unable to move. The monsters moved at such a slow speed that anyone with working legs could outrun them. So why didn't the reporters escape? The reports were the same the world over. People were being killed by these resurrected creatures who moved slower than a lazy Sunday afternoon. It was as if the turtle caught the hare, and then ate him while he stood there and let it happen.

  Yet, reports confirmed that no one bitten by a Chomper transformed into a new Chomper. The internet and the TV news verified stories of people who had escaped the creatures with bites all over their body. If you were lucky enough to escape without serious wounds, then the most you had to worry about was blood loss or an infection from human saliva.

  After two hours of sitting glued to the TV, Kitty said, “At least a bite from a Chomper is survivable.”

  “If you can get away from them before they eat you,” said Bonnie. “But if there are enough of them, they will bring you down like a pack of lions on an antelope.”

  “The ones who are most at risk are children and the elderly.” Rebecca looked at us with a concerned expression on her face. “People who are in wheelchairs, the disabled. It's a hideous thought.”

  “Those people would be like meals on wheels to them,” said Swagger. “Unless you had an electric wheelchair. Then you might be able to outrun them because they do move pretty slow. That would be a sight to see, wouldn't it?”

  Mark frowned at him. “Swagger, if we could move as fast as your mouth does, none of us would ever get caught.”

  Swagger glared at him. “One of these days, mate.”

  Kitty put her hands on her hips. “Do I need to separate you two?”

  I turned to Mark. “You said something about turning this place into a fortress. We need to get started because it's stopped raining and it's only a matter of time.”

  We organized ourselves and tried not to waste time watching TV or going online. The news was the same the world over anyway and none of it was good. The Chompers moved at a snail's pace, but they were unrelenting in their appetite for human flesh. They attacked as a group or alone. They went after anyone who was not infected. They had no taste for animals, only humans. So abandoned dogs and cats ran the city streets with impunity as they formed packs and prides, gathering in groups for safety. This news cheered both Rebecca and I since we loved our 4-legged friends.

  We watched reports where humans banded together to rid their villages and communities of the Chompers. This worked with varying degrees of success. Since the Chompers comprised half of the world's population, it wasn't easy to combat their hordes because there were so many of them. But combined with their slow movement, they seemed to have lost IQ points during their conversion to flesh-eating monsters.

  “At least we're lucky in some ways,” said Mark. “We're not dealing with fast-moving zombies. The other blessing is they have limited intelligence. Also, once you're bitten you can survive as long as you can get away before they eat you.”

  Mark made several trips to Home Depot and returned with a ton of supplies. He got to work immediately digging holes and setting metal posts into the ground. He then filled the holes with concrete. As we worked together, he explained that we were building an extra tall chain link fence around our house. This he could electrify and top with razor wire. He also planned to reinforce the wooden backyard fence with a secondary metal fence. Then he would add razor wire and electrify it.

  After we completed the fence, we set out in search of more supplies. Schools and businesses had shut down throughout Carnival, and our small town was beginning to resemble a city under siege. We finally found a grocery store which was still open for business. People rain through the aisles in wild-eyed panic as they flung items into their baskets. Petite Bonnie actually got knocked down twice by the crowds.

  “Hey, watch where you're going!” she yelled at a big man who pushed past her and knocked her to the floor.

  We stocked up on as many non-perishable food items as we could stuff into our carts. If the atmosphere of anxiety and the pervasive smell of body odor was any sign, our money would soon be worthless.

  After the store, we stopped at a plant nursery with a pad-locked gate.

  “We need seeds and herbs and anything else we can plant on the patio in containers,” said Bonnie. “It may come down to eating potatoes and carrots we can grow in the backyard.”

  “Don't forget jalapenos and serrano peppers,” said Swagger. “Some of us like a little spice with our grub. And beer adds spice as well.”

  “Swagger, you don't need anything that destroys more of your brain cells,” said Kitty. “You have a limited amount as it is.

  I pointed at the lock on the gate. “You want to hit another nursery?”

  “This one will do fine.” Bon
nie stepped out of the SUV. “Swagger, come help me.”

  They walked up to the fence and Swagger attempted to boost her over the top. He finally succeeded after some difficulty.

  “What did you eat for breakfast?” he asked. “Concrete donuts?”

  “How did you guess?”

  Bonnie returned with packets of seeds which she threw over the fence. Then she came back with a tray laden with small plants which she handed over to Swagger. The rest of us carried the potting soil, plant fertilizer and planter pots to the SUV. This went on for what seemed forever. As I watched the sun dip lower in the late afternoon sky, I wondered what horrors we would face in the morning.

  “I hope they don't have security cameras at this nursery,” I said.

  “Nope,” said Mark. “Even if they did, this would be the least of their problems. They're fortifying their house and waiting for the Apocalypse like everyone else in town.”

  Once we got home, there were a thousand small jobs to do. We stored food in the garage since we had pooled our money and bought enough supplies to last several months. There was dog food to store above ground and away from moisture. There was the fence and the perimeter of the house to electrify and this took the rest of the day. Mark stored a supply of gasoline in the garage to use in the generator he had swiped from an unguarded construction site. If we lost power, then the generator would be our back-up plan.

  As darkness descended, he double-checked everything. Bonnie cooked another fabulous meal even though most of us had little appetite. After dinner we sat at the dining table making plans.

  “We need to consider contingencies if all Hell breaks loose,” said Mark.

  Kitty wiped her mouth. “Share what you think.”

  “Right off hand, if the Chompers become the masters of the universe, then we'll need more protection. Protection from the monsters and from other uninfected humans. Our electrified fortress is going to look very inviting to some people. Especially those who are out there trying to survive without our resources.”