Chapter 5: Calvin
Nick vomited in the alley. Stomach acid and coffee, nothing else—he probably hadn't eaten all day. I gave him space, wiping the tire iron on Calvin's jacket before tossing it into a dumpster.
The body lay at our feet, truly dead this time. Brain destroyed. The virus had nothing left to animate.
"We need to move him," I said.
Nick straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Move him where?"
"Somewhere he won't be found. At least not immediately."
"Why does it matter? He's dead. Again."
"Because when the police investigate, I don't want them connecting us to him." I grabbed Calvin's shoulders. "Help me."
We loaded him back into his car—the trunk this time. Nick moved mechanically, shock settling over his features like a mask. We drove the Civic to a deserted lot near the industrial district and left it there, keys in the ignition. Someone would steal it or strip it before morning. Calvin's body would be a problem for another day.
I drove Nick back to his car in my own vehicle. Neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, suffocating. Every few seconds, Nick would open his mouth like he wanted to say something, then close it again.
Finally, parked beside his beat-up Honda: "You knew. You knew he'd come back."
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Medical training. Pattern recognition." A lie wrapped in half-truth. "The hospital cases I told you about—some of them died and reanimated. Just like Calvin."
"You could have warned me."
"Would you have believed me? Or would you have thought I was as crazy as everyone thinks you are?"
He didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Because he knew the truth—he wouldn't have believed. Not without seeing.
"We need to tell my family," he said finally.
"Not tonight. You're in shock. Show up now covered in blood and shaking, they'll call the cops or commit you. Go home. Shower. Sleep if you can. Tomorrow we talk to them."
"Tomorrow might be too late."
"It won't be. The city has a few more days before it collapses completely." I checked my phone—past midnight. Friday now. "Get some rest. I'll call you in the morning."
Nick climbed out of my car, hesitated with the door open. "That thing I saw today. In the alley. That wasn't Calvin anymore, was it?"
"No. Calvin died when his brain stopped getting oxygen. What came back was just the virus wearing his body."
"And that's going to happen to everyone who dies? Everyone who gets bitten?"
"Yeah."
"Jesus Christ." He slammed the door and walked to his car, shoulders hunched like he was carrying the weight of the world.
I watched him drive away, then sat in my car for a long moment. The timer in my vision read 71:42:19. Full reset. Seventy-two hours of humanity before I'd have to do it again.
Calvin had been guilty. A drug dealer, would-be murderer, no great loss to the world. I could live with his death.
How many more Calvins before I run out of guilty targets?
The thought sat cold in my stomach. I pushed it away and drove home.
Friday morning arrived with news alerts. I woke to my phone buzzing, notification after notification lighting up the screen.
Multiple emergency room incidents overnight
LAPD investigating series of violent assaults
City officials urge calm, no cause for panic
No cause for panic. Right.
I scrolled through the reports. Attacks in three hospitals. Two police stations. A shopping center. The pattern was accelerating. Every person Calvin had bitten before dying—if there were any—would turn. Everyone Gloria had infected was creating more infected. Exponential growth.
The city had maybe forty-eight hours before the collapse.
I texted Nick: You alive?
The response came ten minutes later: Barely. Didn't sleep. Family wants to talk. Can you come over tonight?
What did you tell them?
Nothing yet. Waiting for you. They think I'm having some kind of breakdown.
Time?
7 PM?
I'll be there.
I spent the day at my storage unit, taking inventory. The supplies I'd gathered were decent for one person, maybe two. Not enough for a family of four plus Travis and his family. I needed more.
The gun stores were sold out of everything. Word was spreading—not about zombies, but about the violence, the attacks, the breakdown in order. People were arming themselves, stocking up, preparing for riots.
They had no idea what they were actually preparing for.
I hit three different sporting goods stores, buying camping supplies, water filtration systems, emergency blankets. A pharmacy for more medical supplies, paying cash and splitting the purchase across multiple visits. A hardware store for tools, rope, duct tape.
By noon, my storage unit was packed. By three PM, I was exhausted.
The timer read 59:17:38. Still plenty of time. But the itch was already starting—a faint pressure behind my eyes, a low-grade hunger that would build over the next two days until it became unbearable.
I drove past the Clark house at four PM. Madison's car was in the driveway. Travis's truck parked on the street. A For Sale sign in the neighbor's yard. Normal suburban life, about to be shattered.
A girl appeared in the upstairs window. Dark hair, about eighteen, watching the street. Alicia.
She saw my car. I saw her see it. For a moment, we just looked at each other across fifty feet of distance. Then she moved away from the window.
She's suspicious. Smart.
I drove around the block, parked three streets over, and walked back. Approached from the alley behind the house, staying in the shadows. I could hear voices inside—Madison and Travis arguing about something, Nick's voice raised in defense.
Alicia's voice cut through: "He's lying about something. I can tell."
"Your brother's been through trauma," Travis said, all patience and reason. "We need to support him, not accuse him."
"I'm not accusing him of lying about Gloria. I'm saying there's something else. Something he's not telling us."
Smart girl. Dangerous smart.
I checked my watch. Six forty-five. Time to make an entrance.
I walked around to the front, climbed the porch steps, and knocked. Silence inside. Then footsteps.
Madison opened the door. Early forties, guarded expression, teacher's eyes that missed nothing.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm Jax Mercer. I'm here to see Nick."
"Nick's not—" She paused, reassessing. "You're the doctor."
"Medical resident. Nick called me."
She didn't move. "What's your relationship with my son?"
"I met him at the hospital. After the church incident. I believed him when no one else would."
Travis appeared behind her, tall and cautious. "It's okay, Maddie. Let him in."
The living room was middle-class comfort—worn couch, family photos on the walls, a coffee table covered in school papers and mail. Nick sat on the couch looking like a prisoner awaiting execution. Alicia leaned against the wall by the stairs, arms crossed, face unreadable.
Travis gestured to a chair. "Nick says you can corroborate his story about the church."
"I can."
"Were you there?"
"After. I saw the aftermath." I kept my voice calm, professional. "I also saw Gloria's body before the police moved it. And I've been treating patients at LA General with similar symptoms."
Madison sat down slowly. "What kind of symptoms?"
"Severe aggression. Unresponsive to pain. Cloudy eyes. Bite marks on victims that show rapid infection." I looked at each of them in turn. "They're calling it a violent crime wave. It's not. It's an infection."
"What kind of infection?" Travis's voice had that teacher tone—skeptical but willing to listen.
"The kind that kills you and brings you back."
Silence.
Alicia broke it: "That's impossible."
"A week ago, I would have agreed with you."
"You're asking us to believe in zombies." She said it flat, no inflection.
"I'm asking you to believe the evidence. Your brother saw Gloria attack people. I saw her body moving after death. Hospital patients are dying and reanimating. The pattern is consistent and accelerating."
"There has to be another explanation," Travis said. "Drugs, maybe. Something in the water supply."
"Drugs don't make corpses walk."
Madison was watching Nick, not me. "You believe this."
"Mom, I saw it. I saw Gloria. I saw Calvin." His voice cracked. "It's real."
"Calvin?" Madison's eyes sharpened. "Your dealer?"
Nick glanced at me. I gave him a slight nod.
"Calvin tried to kill me last night. This guy—Jax—saved me. And Calvin... he died. And then he came back. Just like Gloria."
Travis stood up. "If someone tried to kill Nick, we need to call the police."
"The police can't help," I said. "They're too busy with hundreds of other cases exactly like this one. By the time they take your statement, the city will be overrun."
"Overrun with what?" Alicia pushed off the wall. "Walking corpses? Do you hear how insane that sounds?"
"Yeah. I do. But it's happening anyway."
Madison's hands were shaking. She clasped them together, teacher composure slipping. "Let's say—hypothetically—you're right. What do we do?"
"You prepare. Stock supplies. Water, food, medicine, weapons if you can get them. Be ready to evacuate if necessary."
"Evacuate to where?"
"Anywhere away from the city. The infection will burn through the population density here like wildfire. Suburbs, rural areas—those will be safer. For a while."
"For a while," Travis repeated. "You're talking about the end of civilization."
"I'm talking about a major population collapse. Civilization will rebuild. Eventually. But the next few months are going to be hell."
Alicia was still staring at me, arms crossed. "You sound very certain about all this. Like you've studied it. Prepared."
Careful. She's too smart.
"I'm a medical resident. I recognize pandemic patterns. This one's worse than anything in history because the dead don't stay dead."
"And you're helping us out of the goodness of your heart."
"I'm helping you because I'd rather face what's coming with allies than alone."
"Allies." She tested the word. "You don't even know us."
"I know Nick. That's enough."
Travis ran a hand through his hair. "This is... I need to think. I need to check on Liza and Chris."
"Who are they?" I asked, though I knew.
"My ex-wife and son. They live across town. If there's really danger—"
"Go check on them. Tomorrow. Tonight, stay here and make a plan."
Madison stood. "I need air. Nick, come help me in the kitchen."
It was an obvious excuse, but Nick followed her out. Travis pulled out his phone, probably to call Liza. That left me and Alicia alone in the living room.
She moved closer, studying me like I was a specimen. "You're lying about something."
"Everyone's lying about something."
"Why are you really here?"
Because I need your family alive. Because you're important in ways I can't explain. Because I'm playing a game where the stakes are everything and I'm barely staying ahead of the chaos.
"Because the world is ending and I'd rather not face it alone."
"That's what you told Travis. Try again."
"What do you want me to say?"
"The truth." She moved closer, eyes locked on mine. "You show up out of nowhere, claim to know about a zombie apocalypse, and offer to save us. Nobody does that without a reason. What do you want?"
"To survive. Same as everyone else."
"Bullshit. There's something else."
We stood there in silence, measuring each other. She was eighteen, sharp, refusing to be dismissed. The kind of person who'd either be a perfect ally or a dangerous enemy.
"You're right," I said finally. "There's something else. But I can't tell you what it is. Not yet. You'll have to decide if you trust me anyway."
"I don't trust you."
"Smart. You shouldn't. But your brother does, and he's the one who saw what's coming. So maybe trust him instead."
She held my gaze for another moment, then turned away. "This is insane."
"Yeah. It is."
Madison and Nick returned. Travis was still on the phone in the kitchen, voice low and urgent. Madison's expression was carefully neutral.
"If we do this—prepare for the worst—what do you suggest?"
I pulled out my phone, opened my notes app. "Water. At least a gallon per person per day. Non-perishable food. Medical supplies—antibiotics, painkillers, bandages. Tools. Flashlights, batteries. A battery-powered radio. Weapons if you can get them, though most stores are already sold out."
"How long do we have?"
"Forty-eight hours. Maybe less."
"And then what?"
"And then the city collapses. The government will try to establish quarantine zones, safe areas. Don't trust them. They won't be safe."
Travis came back in. "Liza says everything's fine on her side. No attacks, no violence. She thinks we're overreacting."
"She'll change her mind within a day," I said.
"You're very confident."
"I'm very observant."
Madison made a decision. I could see it happen—the shift from doubt to action. "Alright. We'll prepare. But I want you to know—if you're wrong about this, if you're manipulating my son—"
"I understand. You'll make me regret it."
"Worse than regret. I'll make you wish you'd never met us."
I smiled despite everything. "Fair enough."
We spent the next hour making lists, dividing responsibilities. Madison would handle food and water. Travis would secure tools and supplies for fortification. Nick would help me transfer weapons and medical supplies from my storage unit.
Alicia mostly watched, contributing little, but her eyes tracked every movement, every word. She didn't trust me. That was fine. I'd earn it eventually. Or I wouldn't.
At ten PM, I stood to leave. "I'll meet Nick tomorrow morning at my storage unit. Location's on the east side. I'll text you the address."
Madison walked me to the door. "Thank you. For believing him. Whatever else this is, whatever your real reasons are—thank you for that."
"He's a good kid. In a shitty situation."
"All the kids are in a shitty situation now. If you're right."
"I'm right."
She closed the door behind me. I walked to my car, feeling eyes on my back. Looked up to see Alicia in the upstairs window again, watching.
I raised a hand. She didn't wave back. Just watched until I drove away.
[ TIMER: 52:19:44 ]
[ QUEST COMPLETE: MAKE CONTACT WITH THE CLARK FAMILY ]
[ NEW QUEST AVAILABLE: SURVIVE THE FALL - PHASE 2 ]
[ OBJECTIVE: PROTECT THE CLARK FAMILY THROUGH THE INITIAL OUTBREAK ]
[ REWARD: ABILITIES UNLOCK, TRUST ESTABLISHED ]
I drove home through streets that looked normal. Fast food restaurants open, gas stations bright. A couple walking their dog. A cop car cruising past.
Normal. All of it normal.
For now.
By tomorrow night, the city would be burning.
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