15. Zoo?

             They’ve got a lot of names. VBs. Viral bodies or beasts. That was what one scientist called them, in the first few days and it stuck. I’ve heard them called wolf-men, The Enraged, and the soulless. I believe that I am the foremost expert on their behavior living. Of course, I’m the foremost expert on everything ‘cause everyone else is dead.

Note: Click on the photo to see a series of Amanda Capasso photos that illustrate Philly is kind of in its own pretty little apocalypse right now.

What else about them? They have some kind of intelligence. I’ve heard the theory, from survivors, back when there were some, that each VB didn’t serve itself, or it’s hunger, but that they served the virus. Like they will more often than not bite a victim, gnashing their teeth and bloody gums into them, and then not eat them. The victim has only a short time, depending on the person, between fifteen minutes to three hours, before he’s a VB too.

That intelligence is the problem with trying to capture them. It’s a big complication. I thought

long and hard about where to put them. I need to be able to isolate them, and monitor them. I started thinking about prisons. That is what a prison is, right?

What about the zoo? It’s the same thing, except for animals, and it’s close. I start creeping South house to house. I avoid a few packs, just lay low, when I run into something that you don’t see too much. It is a pack, and out in front of it is a dog. A VB dog. I get low in the house I’m in, just ducked down so none of them would see me, but then I hear him bark a couple times.

Most animals realized that people had turned crazy and they ran for it. They got away. Some, usually dogs, didn’t catch the change. You know dogs. They love people no matter what. Just imagine poor Blackie running up to his master, wagging his tail- and then he gets bit.

Those dogs turned into VB dog. I’d only seen a few when we were with the Baptist Army. What they did was they came at you, super hard. They also could sniff you out way better than humans. Of course, we weren’t really hiding when we were in the Baptist Army. We waited for them and we killed- so we were ready when barking dogs came through the door.

When we where waiting there, baiting them, fully armed, there was usually a person in reserve. Usually a smaller person or a less fit person, like myself. I was still chunky then. That person was armed with a gun, and anytime the fight got crazy they were to fire. The rule was, the second a dog comes in, shoot them. They are too fast to go hand to hand combat.

Jim also said to me once, “If the human VBs are hunting you,  you evaluate. You look at your chances, and if they’re okay, you fight. If they’re bad, try to run away and hide. If a dog is after you, you got to kill that fucker. He can smell you no matter what, so there isn’t any hiding.” I kind of hoped it never came down to that.

The dog is barking, getting closer, to the window, I can tell by the volume. I already got Ackee out, in my hand. The window is got no glass so he’s going to come right in. I stand up, figuring I want to get a good swing, and human VBs know, from this things barking, that a normal is here. No use hiding. He’s big, some kind of German Shepherd, and as he comes up the steps I see his teeth, blood-drenched, virus ridden, snapping with each bark, and then he’s flying through the window.

I swing too early, too nervous. He sees the many tines of Ackee flying at him and twists in the air. It was weird, like this thing turned in midair. He lands, squares on me. Snarling, darting forward and back. I’m shitting my pants ‘cause I know his human buddies are seconds away. We circle there, in the rowhome living room, jumping over broken chairs, slipping on magazines about how to go on a diet and die your hair red, until my back is toward the stairs. I back up them,  Ackee out in front of me, toward the second floor.

He leaps at me. I meet his teeth with a stabbing motion from Ackee, but ‘cause the weapon was already out in front of me, I don’t do much damage. In fact, the only difference is that now more blood is pouring out from his mouth, and if anything, he’s angrier, his snarling filling the house, his body low toward the stairs, cocked like a pistol.

I have to act now, time is not on my side. I hear them piling through the windows below, screeching. I lift Ackee to get a proper swing. He springs.  His teeth are inches from my belly. I bring my knee up, hard into his chest. As he twists in the air, I bring down Ackee. It catches and buries in his hind-section. No babies for this hound. Then I bring it up and hammer it into his head.

A male human VB is charging up the stairs. “Come on, blood-face!” I slam Ackee accurately, with one swing. He tumbles down. Philly row-home stairs are narrow, and this gives me a second. I run down the second floor hall toward the back room. It’s got a window, glass still in.

Oh well.

I run and leap into it. Full commitment- CRASH- tinkle tinkle. They’ll be after me. I leap fences, and find a house with a basement to hole up. They screech around for a while, give up, go back and eat the dog and the man.

As I’m hiding, I think about the zoo. And I think what if-right, a hyena got bit? They’re locked in cages, they got nowhere to run. Those things can bite through anything. Or worse. A lion. Me and Ackee vs.  a lion, with the virus? I’m not going to win. An elephant? Imagine being chased by an elephant with a virus. Those things can run thirty miles an hour, and throw trees. Of course, could an elephant bite you? Maybe they got blood on the tusks. Those are technically teeth, you know.

So when I thought about all that, I decided to stay away from the zoo.