Winter Infection

Jack’s bones were cold. He questioned his sanity, crouched down behind a log, his breath visible. He couldn’t feel his toes, and his fingers were numb. The snow had melted under him, and he sat in a puddle of wet grass. Snow clung to the rifle in spots, and it felt like he was holding an icicle. He watched the blanket of snow on the field before him, hoping he would see some wild game. It had been days since he had a proper meal.  

Silence covered the field and the woods around him. The birds huddled in their nests, too discouraged by the bitter weather to sing their morning melody. The wind blew through the trees, devoid of leaves, ringing the dormant branches like a dead wind chime. The crackling of the limbs came in waves with each gust of wind, cutting through him like a cold knife.

The air burned his lungs as he breathed, chilling his body from the inside, and the cold peeled back the layers of clothes and stole his body heat. The weather was winning the battle of wills, wearing him down like the ocean beating against the shore. He knew defeat was close, and he would have to retreat to the warmth of his home. The shivering had stopped, and he knew his body had lost the fight.

The field was two hundred yards across and just as wide, covered in snow. Woods framed it with a path to access on the right side, created by a long-dead relative he never met. Past generations farmed the field. Jack just used it for hunting. He was on one side, at the woods line, with a clear view of the field. He could see into the woods on the far side before the trees blocked his view.

He hoped to see some wildlife, ideally a deer, but even a rabbit or turkey would suffice. He stood watch since dawn, discouraged by the lack of success. The sky was grey, blocking the warm rays of the sun. Snow would come soon, making it harder to move.

Things were tough for the last few months. The virus started spreading in the fall, turning people rabid or killing them outright. The ones who died were fortunate; society began to break down. Cities lay in ruins, like battlefields laid to waste in an apocalyptic ending. Fortunately, Jack lived in a rural area, so rioters, looters, and gangs were not the problem.

The virus infected animals as well, but the effect was different. It turned them into something terrible. Rabid and hard to kill, the mutated animals hunted humans now. Packs of dogs, coyotes, and mountain lions worked together to prey on humans.

Jack got infected and thought he was going to die. When he recovered, he was different. He knew when infected animals were coming. That helped him avoid them and survive.

He sensed them now, the feeling starting very faint; they were far away but getting closer. That was the final blow against his will. He prepared to make his way to the safety of his home, unsure if he would make it before the infected animals were on him. As he started to get up, he saw movement. It was too close to be infected animals. Maybe it was a deer running to safety.

This presented a dilemma. If he shot a deer with the infected animals on the way, he would have to fight them for his kill. He had five rounds in his rifle and one spare loaded magazine. He would have difficulty getting the other clip loaded with his hands numb. As the pack got closer, he felt it was more than five.

He watched the woods through the scope, catching glimpses of movement like a ghost flitting through the trees. Visible, then gone again, appearing and disappearing like a mirage in the distance. Jack realized it was not a deer as it emerged from the woods. It was two people.

They were dressed for the weather, each carrying a large backpack. Both had a rifle slung over their back. Jack switched off the safety and used the log as a rest. He got in position and took a couple of deep breaths, steadying himself for what he was about to do.  

If the infected animals caught the people, they would tear them apart. If they were already bit, they would get infected. None of those options were a pleasant way to go. The people were about one hundred fifty yards away from him, running diagonally across the field when Jack saw the pack of coyotes.

Infected coyotes were vicious and dangerous. Usually, coyotes were lone hunters; occasionally, a family group might hunt in pairs. They did not hunt in packs. Infected coyotes were different. They hunted together to take down prey, even people. They were closing fast and were about to break out of the woods and enter the field.  

Jack brought the rifle up and aimed the scope. The two people were running as fast as they could. Their progress was slow because the snow was deep. He wondered why they did not use their rifles to fight.

It was a long shot, but Jack was very skilled at this sort of thing. He put the crosshairs just in front of the target, leading it, and took a deep breath. He slowly let out his breath and gently pulled the trigger. The rifle cracked, and the lead coyote rolled up and fell in the snow, not moving.

 The two people jumped at the gunshot. They saw the first coyote lying on the ground and started running again. Jack cycled the bolt on his rifle and aimed. The coyotes did not hesitate at the death of their pack mate. They could see their prey up ahead. Jack took the second shot. A second coyote dropped in its tracks. Jack cycled the bolt again.

He was in the zone now. Multiple moving targets needed to be taken down. He had been in this position many times in the past. His actions were ingrained from years of operation overseas. He led the third target, pulled the trigger, and did not even notice the gunshot. He was so focused on his task. The third coyote fell in its tracks, sliding in the snow.

Jack cycled the rifle again, aimed, and a fourth one fell to his precision. He racked the gun again. The coyotes had stopped chasing the people and looked his way. He held his last shot. The remaining coyotes slunk back to the safety of the woods but did not retreat. Jack was unwilling to fight them for the meal lying in the field.

Jack waved to the people, and they started making their way over to him. As they got closer, Jack thought they looked familiar. When they got up to him, he could not believe what he saw. It was Steve and Karen. He had not seen either of them since the war. I should have shot them instead, he thought to himself.

Jack, Steve, and Karen served in the Army together. They were part of a task force hunting insurgent leaders. Steve was about the same height as Jack but was wiry as opposed to Jack's sturdy stature. Karen was fit and trim, a few inches shorter than Jack and Steve. She was a people person and a leader. She could motivate people to perform better than they thought they could. She and Jack had been lovers before she betrayed him with Steve.

The three of them were top performers in the war. They had more kills than any other team and were selected for high-value targets. The last mission destroyed their bond. When the war ended, they went their separate ways. Jack hoped he would never see them again.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Jack,” Karen said.

Jack gestured to the rifles on their backs. “Do you have any ammo for those? My dinner is lying over there.” He pointed to the dead coyotes. The pack was lurking in the woods, guarding their meal.

“If we had ammo, we would have stood and fought,” Karen replied.

“So, what do you want?”

“We came looking for you,” Karen said.

“I am not interested in whatever you have in mind,” Jack said.

Steve looked at the coyotes lying in the field. “You were going to eat that? You must be hungry.”

“I’ll manage,” Jack said as he moved past them, heading back to his home, abandoning his meal.

“We have food,” Karen said.

Jack stopped in his tracks and turned to the pair.

“What do you want?” Jack asked.

“Just hear us out. Let’s go back to your house, get warmed up, and have something to eat. If you're still not interested, we will be on our way tomorrow and leave you some of our MREs.”

Karen always had a way to persuade someone to get what she wanted. Jack didn’t want to have them in his house for a day, but his stomach overruled his pride.

“Fine, you have until tomorrow, then you leave.”

Karen smiled. “Thanks, Jack; I knew we could count on you. Lead the way.”

As Jack led them back to his house, he thought that at least he would finally get a proper meal out of this.