Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel (6 page)

We could just take one of those
, Chris thought. He shook off the idea, because the place was swarming with the enemy. In a short amount of time, it seemed as if their numbers had doubled.

Just before going inside, Chris Commons got the shock of his life. Mark, his cousin, shuffled by one of the trucks and was headed toward the coffee shop. Chris’ body fought to stand against the shock. Mark’s blood soaked neck cocked to one side. Chris did not want it to be Mark.
You’re just panicking and starting to hallucinate, man.
However, he was still too sane to convince himself of the lie.

He stepped inside and closed the door, locking the deadbolt behind.

*     *     *

“Well, here we are, again.” Stephanie walked through the coffee shop as she had done a million times before. Only, this was her first time with a loaded rifle at the ready to fire.

The television was on, but it only showed static. Chris’ backpack and laptop were right where he had left them. He hurried over to gather his things.

Steve had the remote and he was going through the channels. Every channel was the same. The snowy television screen conveyed Chris’ fears. The future seemed hopeless just like the nothingness displayed on the TV. 

Chris pulled out his cellphone and tried to call his parents again. It rang once and then it terminated. He tossed the phone in his backpack and zipped it up. “You know. It could be worse.”

“How so? Last time I checked, it was the end of the world, dude.” Steve had given up on the TV and started digging through bags of chips on the counter. He chose Dorito’s. “Can’t get any worse than that, bro,” he said, shoving a few chips into his mouth.

“Jesus, are you always hungry?” Stephanie asked, as she searched for her keys.

“Pretty much,” Chris confirmed.

“You’re as skinny as a rail. If I ate like that, it would go straight to my hips.”

Steve smiled; his eyes looked unnaturally big outlined by the huge frames of his glasses. He stuffed more chips into his mouth.

“It could be worse,” Chris continued. “We could be sleeping in the van tonight.”

“Oh, like we haven’t done that a boat load.” Steve crumpled the empty bag and grabbed another; barbecue this time.    

“Yeah, and tonight we don’t have to, so it could be worse.” With the last of his stuff together, Chris shoved the gun into the back of his pants like he had seen done on the movies and then put on his backpack.   

Steve chuckled. “Yep, true that, dude.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Stephanie asked.

When Chris looked up to answer, she had a pink purse draped around her arm. She looked ready to go. “Keys?” 

She nodded and looked at her purse.

“You got everything you need, Steve?” Chris didn’t remember if Steve had brought anything into the coffee shop or not. It would have been unusual if he had. He was lazy and didn’t want to be responsible for anything if he didn’t have to be. He just was the drummer.

Steve stood empty handed, appearing dumbfounded. “No . . . I don’t have everything.”

“Well, what are you missing?”

“You think the coffee is still warm? I sure could use some coffee,” Steve said. 

“You are fucking worthless.”

The clatter at the door prevented Steve from giving a quick rebuttal. The dead were hungry and they sensed that food lay beyond the coffee shop’s entrance. Steve dropped the half-eaten bag of chips and picked up his bat. He turned and briskly made his way around the coffee bar.

Two, then three, then five ghouls appeared at the busted window, their snarling teeth eager for flesh. They started climbing through once more.

“I love rehashing old memories, but let’s get the hell out of here,” Chris said, pulling the gun back out.

No one protested.

They wasted no time and made it out the back door. Bloody handprints and grime stained the door. Chris slammed it shut and grabbed an old chair used for smoke breaks to hold it shut. He propped it up under the door handle, just as it began to vibrate with the thumping of dead knuckles.    

“Come on! Let’s go!” Stephanie shouted from the car, as it came to life.

Steve climbed in the front passenger seat with the bat still in his hand. “Come on, Chris!”

Several zombies in the distance shuffled in their direction, each one brutally mangled. Steve reached back and unlocked the passenger door, frantically waving for Chris to get in. As Chris leaped for the door and pulled it open, the dead boy who attacked them earlier caught him by the ankle. It had never gotten to its feet and was dragging itself around on the ground, its bloody entrails trailing around the back lot from its belly.

The back door of the shop swung open and three zombies spilled out. They were heading straight for him. The boy’s frail little arms pulled and tugged, but he was too weak to overpower Chris. A trail of the boy’s bowels and entrails stained the cement as Chis pulled it along.

Chris aimed his gun at the boy’s head and muttered a soft prayer.

The shot rang out, slamming the undead child onto the pavement; its pink oozing brain and bone fragments spread across the ground. Chris’ heart raced ninety miles a minute as he fell headlong into the backseat of the car. The car raced off, and careened down the street and past a cluster of ghouls, before he even tried to close the door. More zombies filed out the back of the coffee shop, as he gave it one last glance.

“Take a right!” Chris shouted, still shaking.

“My house is the other way!”

The loud sounds of unfamiliar hip-hop blared through the speakers as he shouted. “Take a right! I need to see something.”

The car veered sharply to the right, just past the backside of the gas station.

“Stop the car! Stop the car!”

“Fuck that!” Stephanie shouted back. “We need to get the hell out of here. It’s murder central out there, in case you haven’t noticed!”

“Stop the fucking car, NOW!” Chris jabbed the pistol beside Steve’s head. “I said stop!”

“Stop the damn car, Stephanie!” Steve sobbed out loud with both hands in the air.

Stephanie slammed on the brakes. Chris jumped out the car and jogged up the block a short distance. He searched the ground for a second and scanned the surrounding buildings.

“What the hell is going on?” Stephanie asked looking on from inside the car.

“Just give him a minute, woman.” Steve opened his door and began to step out.

“Where the hell are you going? Get back in the car! Let’s leave his ass!”

“No, wait. Just wait here for a second.”

“What the hell do you mean, wait? He just had a fucking gun to your head, Steve.”

“Just hold on a second, I said. I think I know what’s up,” Steve said getting out, but not before snatching up his baseball bat. Just before closing the car door, he said, “This is the same street we came down with Mark.”

“Steve, he was going to shoot you.” Stephanie pointed out at Chris standing in the middle of the street.

“No, he wasn’t. He did what he had to. It got you to stop, didn’t it?” Steve jogged off and met up with Chris, not bothering to shut his car door.

“Well, I’m not about to sit in the car alone.” Paranoid, Stephanie looked in the rearview mirror and in the backseats before deciding to get out. She left her door open and the car running. “What is the big fucking deal with you two?”

“He was right here! He was right effing here, I know it.” Chris pointed to a puddle of dried blood on the sidewalk. A familiar building lit up the night in an orange and white glow. The building blazed on.

Steve stood and let Chris purge his emotional system.

Chris could tell by Stephanie’s expression that she understood. Mark had died right where they were standing, but the body was missing.

“He’s one of them, Steve. He turned into a zombie!” Chris fell to his knees and began to cry. He buried his face in his palms and felt his strength ebb. He had reached his end. “Mark…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”  

“Hey man, it’s not your fault. All right?” Steve said, and placed a hand on Chris’ shoulder.

“Why? Why?” Chris’ emotions flooded to the surface. The gun slipped from his hand and fell to the sidewalk.

“I hate to break the moment, guys, but Chris is being a little loud and we’re getting noticed.” Stephanie pointed toward the end of the street.

Zombies stepped out of the shadows and into the streetlight. Their moans echoed out into the night calling for more to join their ranks.             

Chris ignored her.

“Steve,” Stephanie said. “We’ve got to go!”

Chris choked back his heavy sobs and wiped his eyes dry. Chris whispered, “I saw him, Steve. I saw him before we went back to The Beanery. He’s a zombie. He’s one of them. Going to walk the earth forever eating people. We can’t let that happen, Steve. Mark hated meat. He was a vegetarian.”

Stephanie chuckled under her breath.

Steve glared at her and then looked back down at Chris.

“We have to help him. You wouldn’t want to be one of those things either.”

“Man, I think you’re losing it, dude.”

“No, I’m not. We have to help Mark!”

“Hell no we don’t,” both Steve and Stephanie said in unison.

Chris took in a deep breath, retrieved the pistol, and stood up, looking at them through bloodshot eyes. “He would do it for me, and you know it.”

Chris turned away from his two friends and started back down the road toward the convenience store.

“Chris! Chris! You’re going to get yourself killed!” Steve pleaded.

“Do something!” Stephanie yelled.

With a heavy sigh, Steve said, “It’s not my job to be the hero.”

“Go after him!” Stephanie said.

“All right, get the car and catch up with us. I’ll go get him. This is freaking ridiculous.”

Stephanie smiled and ran back to the car. Up ahead, Chris had managed to stumble forty feet or more down the street, heading straight into a patch of ghouls at the end of the road. Steve caught up to him. A second later, so did the car.

“You’re not going to stop me, man. Mark needs us.” Chris’ eyes reflected madness, as he stomped forward.

“Listen, dude, right now you’re putting lives in danger; yours, Stephanie’s, and mine. That’s not cool, so just get in the car, please?” Steve opened the car door, hoping that Chris would come to his senses.

“No!”

“Okay, man. Then you leave me no choice. Either you get in the car or I’m going to make you.”

In only a few brief moments, the street ahead had crowded with over a dozen undead corpses and they were walking straight for Chris. He was so consumed with his loss that he no longer cared about his own safety.

Steve was too selfish to let anything get in the way of self-preservation. The stench of rotted meat and entrails reached his nose. Stiffened arms of the lumbering dead were reaching toward the car. Time was running out.

“Last chance, Chris.”

“No, you can forget it. I’m not leaving a band member behind. He needs us, man.”

Steve waved the bat and gave Chris a glancing blow to the head.

*     *     *

Chris awoke to the soft hum of a steadily cruising car engine. His head throbbed as he attempted to gather his wits. With blurry vision, he focused on the overhead light on the car’s headliner. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his head spiked. His fingers gently explored the back of his head and he found a tender lump the size of a golf ball. It felt wet, but when his hand came away, there was no blood.
What the hell happened? Where am I?
Had all of this been a dream?
He considered the idea that Steve had gotten him really drunk again. The last two times that happened, the band lost the gig and they were kicked out of the bar. Faint chatter of conversation came from the front seat, too low for him to understand.      

“Where are we?” Chris managed to say. “What the hell happened?”

“Well, it’s about time. The superhero has opened his eyes. How you feeling, man?” Steve turned around in the front seat, not restrained by the safety harness. “Sorry for the bump. No hard feelings?”

“Hey Chris, glad you could join us,” Stephanie said from behind the wheel. “So like I was saying, then she just totally dumped the guy right there in front of everyone.”

“Man, I bet that dude was pissed.” Steve said, returning his attention to Stephanie.

The two laughed and then Stephanie continued her story.

Chris realized where he was, and figured out what happened for him to end up in the backseat of a car instead of meeting his end with teeth of the walking dead. As much as he hated busting a perfectly good show after too many drinks, it would have been better than waking up to the nightmare he was now living.

He sat up and wondered how long he had been unconscious. It couldn’t have been long. Stephanie said she lived twenty minutes away. The power was still on in the neighborhood, but most of the houses had their lights off. Vehicles littered the street making Stephanie slow down to avoid the obstacles. Water shot into the air from a busted fire hydrant. The car that crashed into it had a body sprawled out across the hood.

Chris sighed. At least that person had died a somewhat natural death, unlike Mark. On closer inspection of the neighborhood, windows were broken out of houses, fences were busted and mailboxes were obliterated. Every house told the same tragic tale; destruction. At least, he didn’t see any of
them
lingering out in the street.

However, that didn’t last long; a battered zombie shuffled out from behind an abandoned home. Drawn by the noise of the car, it reached its arms out in hopes of catching a prize.

My freaking head
, Chris thought, rubbing the sore lump again.      

“Dude, you were out like almost an hour,” Steve said.

“I was just about to ask that. Ahh . . . my head is killing me. What the hell happened?”

“Well, man…,” Steve started, but Chris cut him off.

“An hour? I thought Stephanie’s house was pretty close.”

“The highway is blocked,” Stephanie said.

“For real,” Steve agreed. “It was a wild mess for sure. Took us thirty minutes just to turn around and get off the interstate. We’ve been hitting all the side streets trying to get there. Shouldn’t be that far now.”