The Call

[Otis McNutt 395]

Based on "Cell: A Novel" by Stephen King

At exactly 3:03 PM on the afternoon of October 1st 2012 an unknown event which would come to be known as "The Pulse" intersected the Cellular Network of the Northern Hemisphere calling every connected Cell Phone. Those unfortunate enough to answer the call were instantaneously transformed from rational human beings into Belligerently Savage Animals. Most committed suicide as fast as they could, many more were killed by Police in a hail of bullets, then there were the few who formed packs.

The Emergency services were quickly overwhelmed and in the span of a week the Eastern seaboard of the United States was in shambles. Those "lucky" enough to miss the call found themselves alone in a sea of utter madness with only two options, fight or die.

You were a fighter...

Name: Oscar "Oz" Kent

Age: 30

Occupation: Short Order Cook

Reason missed the Call: Cell Battery dead

Back Story: Oz Kent had just started the Dinner shift at Maddie's Diner in West Springfield Massachusetts. As the ground beef patties sizzled on the Skillet sending a pleasing aroma into the air a dozen cell phones all rang out at once.

As the passing thought of "that's weird" entered his mind a scream from outside drew his attention to the bay window. There was a man, rather dapper of dress on his hands and knees with a Shih Tzu in his mouth. As a fountain of crimson poured from his mouth the Dogs owner began to pummel the Canine killer with her oversized purse. It was then that Oz noticed the Diners in the front had also changed. Where a minute earlier there were loud conversations, laughter and the occasional singing along to the latest top 40 on the Juke Box there was now a silence undercut by sobbing and the occasional unintelligible blabber. Emerging from the kitchette Oz saw Becky, the owners teenage daughter sitting on the floor near the register holding something in her hand.

Becky what's wrong?" he asked.

The girl looked up at him with a glazed look in her blue eyes

"They shouldn't have let the Rabbits loose." she said in a soft monotone.

"What Rabbits Becky?" Oz asked.

"The Rabbits went hippity hop down the street, they just don't know how to stop." she said.

It was then that Oz noticed a trickle of blood coming from her ear. "Oh god Becky, come on I'll get help."

Oz helped Becky to her feet and tried to walk her to the door but she pulled away.

"They should've just killed the Rabbits if they wanted them dead!" She said in a shout.

Before Oz could stop her, she grabbed a knife and stabbed it through her own eye. Oz watched as Becky, a girl he had known since the Day she was born fell to the ground like a puppet with it's strings cut.

It was then that Oz started to panic, a Girl had just killed herself not three feet from them and the patrons did nothing. He very slowly turned his head and saw the same Glossy vacant look on the customers.

Oz kept an eye on the customers as he slowly made a back step to the exit. As he reached the door and slowly opened it the bell atop let out a soft tinkle.

As if by some Pavlovian response the customer nearest him lunged over his table and charged at him, his gaping maw chomping like a Dog. Oz grabbed a glass bottle of Heinz Ketchup and swung with such force that it shattered sending a torrent of ketchup, blood and brain matter against the side wall.

As the other customers began to bite and claw their way towards him Oz bolted out the door and into the street. The City square was in chaos. All around him he could hear screams, sobbing and even the sounds of Human like growling.

Oz darted around the back of the Diner and to his car, a Navy Blue 1980's Buick Le Sabre. A quick rap on the trunk triggered the catch release and it flew open.

As he began to root around inside the first customers from the Diner had made it outside. It was a preppy guy, college student most likely. His Ginger hair was caked in blood and ketchup a streak of which ran down his face almost as if he had put his hand in it and smeared it on like war paint. As he began to sprint into the alley like a lumbering hyena Oz spun around on his heels and dragged his Louieville slugger upside the guys head. With a loud crack he tumbled to the ground. Oz waited Bat in hand for the guy to get up, but judging by the fact that his head was resting on his own pectorials that wasn't going to happen. Oz slid into his drivers seat and slid the key into the ignition.

"...Repeat, reports from NBC News, ABC News and the Associated Press have confirmed that a series of Riots have broken out in cities and towns along the Eastern Seaboard. While no one will comment at this time reports seem to indicate the Rioters are possibly Middle Eastern as they are speaking a foreign language while attacking".

Oz pulled out of his spot and rounded the corner just as a truck jumped the curb and slammed into the Store front. As he drove away the truck labeled "Natural Gas" went up taking the Diner and most of the block with it.

A mile away Oz found himself near the Massachusetts/Connecticut Border. Where yesterday would've been a suburban neighborhood now looked like a Grizzly battlefield.

Crossing over a nearby Highway overpass Oz slammed on his brakes and looked at the scene unfolding around him. Cars were strewn across both lanes like childs Match box cars, bodies splayed out in all manner of Horror. Seemingly normal human beings howling like beasts clubbing and beating each other with fists or any number of blunt objects.

Oz slipped out of his seatbelt, gripped his red stained bat hard and begrudgingly decided to set out on foot.