Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel (3 page)

“Dude, you need to get into shape and keep it together,” Chris said, peering down the side street. From behind, the sounds of lustful moans permeated the air.

Chris took a moment to weigh his options. It wasn’t the best place to be staying in the streets right now. They were venerable and out in the open. Sure, the van was less than a block away. But the sound of distant gunfire popped in the air followed by shouts, telling Chris they needed to move. A heavy-set man emerged from bushes four or five hundred feet ahead. Limping at a pace equal to a crawl, he only made it halfway across the street before collapsing. Behind him, two putrid creatures followed.

The man was so exhausted that he didn’t scream. He didn’t even let out a whimper as gnashing teeth and tearing claws ripped the flesh off his body.   

“We going to do this or what?” Mark said, stepping out of the shadows, and into the poorly lit street. “We need to get to the van and get the hell out of here!” 

Mark, you are going to get us freaking killed,
Chris thought, as he watched Steve and the girl follow Mark’s lead. “Stick to the sidewalk,” Chris whispered, hoping that Mark knew what he was doing.

Concealed in the shadows, Mark led the group down the narrow sidewalk.  The creatures devouring the man were more concerned with their prize than to notice. Across the street, screams erupted from inside a building. Just as they ended, a loud crashing sound trailed, followed by a sudden bright flash of light. Smoke rolled out of a window followed by flames. The fire grew amongst crackling pops. It burned faster than he had imagined possible. Chris stood, and in awe of the terror, watched with the others.

The flames pushed back the safety of the shadows beyond the sidewalk.

“It’s the end of the world, dude,” Mark said, wide-eyed, still watching the flames.  

A zombie stepped out from behind a tree beside the walkway and grabbed his arm. Taking Mark by surprise, he stumbled backward as he wrestled with the creature. The aluminum bat clattered against the cement as it fell from his hand. When the metallic clang echoed out into the street, numerous ghouls began circling in.

Chris glanced back to see that the fat man no longer had any flesh to offer, and the two feeding on him, joined in with the others heading toward them. The pungent stench of rotting meat rolled through as the dead began to close in. 

The fire still raged, lighting up the scene, as it steadily digested the building.

The zombie’s head lunged forward as it wrestled Mark to the ground. Its teeth met the flesh of Mark’s neck just as he fell flat on his back. The creature landed on top of him. He screamed as white and red chunks tore away from the side of his neck. As it pulled away, the creature’s mouth was full. The tissue being torn from muscle and Mark's desperate cry ingrained itself into Chris' mind. Blood burst forth into the air from Mark’s lips as the creature went down for another bite. 

Before Chris had time to process the circumstances, he did the unthinkable. The unimaginable. He had never harmed another human being in his life, until now. He reached down and picked up the bat. The scraping sound against the cement made the creature rear its snarling head away from Mark. Her lips were soaked with his blood and chunks of matted, chewed meat spilled from her mouth. Most of her scalp was missing and one eye was pushed back unnaturally deep in its socket. She hissed in defiance.

That was when the first blow went crashing down. Chris swung as hard as he possibly could. The hit was solid, sending the zombie to the ground, but not for good. Just as his bat came away, the woman tried to fight back. Her neck was dislocated from the jarring impact. Her right arm twitched slightly as her head bobbed up and down. She lay limp on the sidewalk. Her teeth were steadily chomping, and her eyes glazed over in white mist. Chris stared down at her dead twitching body, unsure if she was even dead at all. The stench of her rotting flesh brought bile to the back of his throat.

The bat collided with her head again, then once more. Blood and meaty chunks flung into the air with the backswing of the bat. She lay motionless. Dead as dead could be.

“Holy hell,” Steve, said looking down on the mess.

Mark was gone. He lay bleeding out, a lifeless and bleak void, with a stare that glimmered into Chris’ soul. A red pool of blood steadily grew around his head, pouring out from the gaping hole in his unnaturally pinkish-white neck. 

“He’s dead!” The cashier screamed, weakening at the knees.    

Steve caught her just before she fell to the ground. “We need to freakin’ move,” he said, looking around at the attention drawn. Over a dozen of the undead had invaded the surrounding area and were closing in.

Chris knelt down beside Mark’s corpse, choking back tears. Trying to stop the bleeding, he cupped the gaping wound on Mark’s throat with his hand. Blood continued to flow between his fingers as he applied pressure.

“Don’t die on me . . . don’t freaking die on me, prick.”

A single tear formed in Chris’ right eye. It broke free and slid down his cheek. Looking into his cousin’s emotionless eyes, Chris thought of the first band that he and Mark had put together. They had called themselves ‘The Sock Eaters.’ They never played a single show, but the façade brought in a lot of tail just by talking it up. “Yeah, we’re in a band,” Mark would say. The girls ate that shit up. Hell, that’s probably what started Mark’s ‘all talk, no follow through’ problem. Chris could never get the guy to do anything right. Now, if there was a lady in the room, that would be another story. Chris felt the emotions begin to swell inside. He and Mark had been through a lot together in life. He sobbed. The last thing he needed right now was to fall apart. At times, Mark may have gotten under his skin, but they were still flesh and blood. He couldn’t let Steve see him fold. He needed to be strong. He needed to be strong for Steve.

“Chris!” Steve was growing impatient, and so were those things. “What the hell are you doing?”

Chris looked up, jingling a set of keys in his blood-covered hand, still leaning over Mark’s lifeless body. “Keys to the van, man,” he struggled to say.

He looked around at the closing threat and estimated the closest zombie was still at least fifteen feet away. If they stayed on the move and kept quiet, they just might have a chance.
These things are slow
, he thought. “I think we can outrun them!”

“What?” the blonde cashier had been lost in her own thoughts of survival. 

“Run!” Chris stood up, charging the nearest creature with the bat cocked on his shoulder. He hoped like hell that Steve was right behind him, because he wasn’t looking back for anything. The bat connected. The side of the putrid ghoul’s head caved in, spilling out pink meat and hairy skull fragments. Chris heard the body thump to the ground. He just kept running. The van wasn’t very far off. He had to make it.

*     *     *

It didn’t take the three of them long before the van to come into view. Leaning against a tree, Steve tried to catch his breath, watching for movement. Any movement. There was none. The smell of death grew stronger along with the sounds of those hot on their trail. Because the things were slow, time was on their side, but it was running out quickly. In the distance, above the buildings, the glow of fire lit up the night. Buildings were burning. The one that they had watched as it caught fire and then several more. The faint hiss and pop of crackling wood resonated in the stillness. 

Chris scanned the area for hostiles. A little less than a block away, a few strays wandered in front of the coffee shop. One undead ghoul stood doing nothing, except slightly swaying in place. Its feet occasionally shifted, moving dead weight from one side to the other. Two other zombies were still gnawing on the dead biker in the middle of the street. A faint series of chomps and slurps reached Chris’ ears as he watched, cringing with disgust.
The bike.
Chris didn’t see the guy’s bike anywhere.
Maybe it went off the side of the road into a ditch.
As he scanned the area looking for where the motorcycle might have come to rest, he thought he saw a face peeping through a second floor window nearby. They didn’t try to signal, and he didn’t blame them.

The area was clear, but he knew better than to trust his eyes only. It wouldn’t be until they made their presence known that the undead would come out of the woodwork looking for food. They were probably wandering aimlessly in the dark corners and crevices of buildings waiting for something alive to make itself known. Waiting for that perfect moment when a meal presented itself. Then, and only then, would they strike.

“Chris,” Steve whispered. “What the hell are you doing, man?” The stench and moans were getting stronger, and the side street chase was still underway.

Chris waved him off, knowing it would take a minute for the dead to catch up.

Seated at the far corner of the convenience store parking lot, Chris continued to survey the area. The blue Sedan sat parked with the driver side door wide open. The gas station was vacant and the lights were off. One cheesy white tiger poster blinked its battery powered light-up eyes in the windowsill. 

“Guns,” he said under his breath.

“What.”

“The people in that Sedan had guns,” Chris said just loud enough for the others to hear.

“Are you fucking crazy?”

Chris shrugged his shoulders and forced an odd smile. “We need real weapons, Steve.” With that, he turned and snuck quietly through the dark toward the blinking poster.

“Chris . . . Chris . . . .” Steve called. “The van is the other way!” Steve looked over at the cute, yet terrified blonde. “What’s your name?” he asked.

She rubbed her nose and sniffled, then said, “Stephanie.”

“Well, Stephanie,” he whispered with an exhale, “There’s a first time for everything, right?”

He grabbed her hand and they made their way across the empty gas station parking lot toward the convenience store’s doors.

When the three met inside, Chris Commons wondered what happened for this unbelievable scenario to come about. The chaos and ensuing carnage happened so fast. It definitely wasn’t a band of gang looters like one news anchor had stated. He had seen it for himself. These people were dead. But if they
were
dead, then how could he explain them walking around or attacking? It just didn’t make any sense. None of it did. One thing was for sure, the city was starting to scorch. He had seen it on TV. Not only were the dead roaming about, so were looters. People were attacking people. It was a free-for-all-mad house of ‘winner takes all.’ Soon it would be ‘winner stays alive.’ Hell, it already was!

He found himself wondering if he was going to end up as a winner.  

Chapter Two

The inside of the convenience store was mostly dark, creating an eerie setting. Only a small amount of light seeped through the storefront windows. Chris knew the power was still on, because the overhead surveillance monitor was still working. It showed Chris and his two companions as they crept through the store. Chris didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention, undead or not, by turning on the lights.

Keeping low and out of sight, they moved single file down one aisle, after another, hoping not to encounter any unexpected surprises. If there were any ghouls in the store, Chris was sure they would have made some type of racket by now.

The goods on the shelves were undisturbed. He had to assume that the store manager left in such a hurry that he forgot to lock the doors after turning off the lights. He wondered how long it would take before others would show up in desperate need of supplies. One thing he knew, he didn’t want to be around when they did come.

Chris’ thoughts drifted to the armed couple that spilled out of the blue Sedan out front. They didn’t seem like the gun carrying type. The lady had shown up with a missing arm. He watched Mark bash her skull in behind the coffee shop.
What happened to the guy you were with and were are the weapons I saw yawl carrying?

It was time to formulate a plan.

The sudden hiss of compressed air startled Chris from his thoughts. He froze in place and turned to see Steve holding an opened soda. Steve turned the can upside down. The gulping sounded like an alarm against the silence.

“Are you freaking stupid?” Chris whispered.

“What man? I was thirsty,” Steve said, wiping his lips with his arm. “No point in letting it go to waste. If this really is the end of the world, I doubt anyone’s gonna mind.” He took another swig.

“That doesn’t matter, man. We need to stay quiet.”

“What do you mean we need to stay quiet? You’re the one who started talking first,” Steve whispered back, before downing the rest of the soda.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have started talking if you hadn’t startled the shit out of me.”

“Oh, come on. Dude, you’re way too uptight.”

“Uptight? Are you serious right now? Uptight! Uptight! Mark is dead. I just freaking watched my cousin die right in front of me. We’re on the run from flesh eating dead people and you think I’m being too uptight? Of course, I’m fucking uptight. I’m trying not to die! This… this is blood.” Chris lifted his palm, shoving it in Steve’s direction. “Mark’s blood.”

“Sorry, man. I was just thirsty.”

“Will you two be quiet? I think I heard something,” Stephanie said, bringing a finger to her lips.

“Hear what?”

“Just shut up and listen,” she said. 

The three of them sat hunched to the ground searching the silence. Fear strengthened its cold grip. It tingled up Chris’ arms in a heavy wave of goose bumps. He knew the others could feel it too. It was reflected in their eyes, and it contorted their pale faces.

“I don’t hear anything,” Steve whispered.

“Shhh . . . I think it came from over there.” Stephanie pointed toward the front counter and cash register.

After another moment or two of silence, Chris braved a quick look around. His blood-covered index finger met his partially puckered lips without actually touching. He looked back at Steve and Stephanie, and slowly started toward the counter.