Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel (7 page)

“Yep, just the end of the block,” Stephanie confirmed. “Had me worried for a minute, there kid. You were zonked the crap out.”  

Chris reached for the gun in the back of his pants. It wasn’t there.

Steve saw Chris searching his body and he asked, “Looking for this?” He waved the gun in the air.

Chris reached out to grab it, but Steve yanked away. “Now, you don’t get this back unless you learn to chill the hell out. We cool?” he asked, holding the gun just out of reach.

“Yeah, we’re cool,” Chris said, feeling ashamed; not for pointing the gun at Steve earlier, but for failing Mark when he needed him the most.

Stephanie looked at Steve with concern written in her expression.

“It won’t happen again, I promise. I know I lost my cool, but can you honestly blame me?”

“No, I guess not,” Stephanie said.

“Mark was one of my best friends and now he’s gone. Honestly, I don’t think it has really even sunk in yet either. Probably won’t for a while. I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have put you guys at risk like that.” Chris sat in silence a moment, thinking about that stupid man playing the lotto and how self-interest got someone else killed. He realized he wasn’t any better. He endangered Steve’s life, as well as Stephanie’s, and he knew it.

Steve handed Chris the gun. He looked at it for a while. He knew he needed to keep his head on straight no matter what happened from here on out. His friends depended on it. They needed him just as much as he needed them.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” he moaned under his breath. “I’m sorry.”

For a while, the car rolled on in silence, before coming to a stop at the back of a narrow dead end road. “This is the place.” The house was small and all the lights were off, just as she had left it. The driveway leading up to the front door was well lit from the neighboring streetlight a few houses down and nothing seemed out of place. It was the typical one story home with all the trimmings and a nice sized backyard. Chris was actually impressed. For a barista, she seemed to be doing well for herself.

A few of the houses on the block had obviously been looted, yet Stephanie’s house had been left unscathed from the random acts of violence and thievery. It was most definitely a surprising turn of luck; something they all noticed with unspoken agreement. The house to their right also seemed to have been untouched by the chaos. Chris couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason. He could only guess that the looters had either given up, taking only what they needed from the other houses or that something made them turn back before hitting the end of the street. The later of the two made sense, because her house
was
one of the last ones on the block.   

Stephanie killed the engine and started to get out. The door latch clicked, breaking the silence. “Wait, wait a second.” Chris reached up and pulled her back into the seat by the shoulder.

“What?” She looked around in the night for possible threats, but saw nothing.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but those things are attracted to sound,” he said.

“Yeah, so? We just need to be extra quiet,” Steve said, picking up the bat from the floorboard.

“No, you don’t get it. Any noise at all could attract attention for blocks. You guys saw what happened at the gas station. When we went in the store, the streets were mostly clear. It wasn’t until those stupid rednecks showed up that things got crowded.”

“So, what? Note to self, don’t go shouting and shooting,” Stephanie said, as she started to get out again.

“Look, that’s not what I’m saying at all here. I’m talking about the car,” Chris continued. Steve and Stephanie just looked back at him trying to understand the point. “I would just feel better about staying here tonight if nothing, not anyone, dead or alive knew that we were in there.” Chris pointed across the front seats at the dark house. “I just think it would be a smart idea to park the car somewhere else. The sound of the engine and your headlights could have already given us away.”

Stephanie looked in her side mirrors, hoping that wasn’t the case. She didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there. “Well, how far are we talking then?”

“I don’t know. Two blocks at best. If they really are attracted to sound, I say we give ‘em a show. Possibly draw them away from the house. Then, God willing, we sneak away unnoticed. Any attention we would be getting would be blocks away.”

“Dude, that’s freaking brilliant. I knew I was keeping you around for something,” Steve said.

“I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell would feel better about things,” Chris smiled. “And no, you’ve been keeping me around because I’m the one who gets us shows, remember?”   

“This is true,” Steve agreed.

“All right, then. Let’s get this show on the road. I’m driving!” Chris got out of the car. It wasn’t until he stood to his feet that he remembered his throbbing head. The pain shot from his knees and up his back, like a swift kick to the face, and he almost fell.

“You all right?” Stephanie asked, while getting out of the car, the keys still in the ignition.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just stood up too fast,” he said while swapping places. “My head still hurts pretty bad.”

Steve looked at Stephanie with a raised brow. “He had it coming.”

She smirked.

The engine cranked to life and its high beams lit up the house in front of them. Chris turned the car around, laid on the horn, and slowly cruised down the street. It took less than a minute for the zombies to start trickling out from behind houses, bushes, and backyards. The car’s light showed their grotesque and mutilated features, burning the images forever in the back of Chris’ mind.

“What the hell are you waiting for, man. Let’s jet!” Steve shouted.

Chris’ grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Just give it a second.”

As soon as he said that, a zombie reached out and slapped the hood of the car. It was a female wearing a white nightgown now stained with dirt and ash. She snarled wide showing missing teeth. One eye had burst from its socket and was hanging limp at the cheek by rancid tissue. The other eye was missing. The nightgown had a bone jutting out the back and a trail of blood ran down her legs. As she pounded relentlessly to get inside the car, her fingers twisted and broke.

Chris noticed her hands. He was amazed how relentless she was in her pursuit of fresh meat. Without the sense of pain, she would scratch at the metal until all her fingers broke off. It made him feel sick to the stomach again, but this time, he managed not to throw up.

Seeing the woman’s fingers break like that made Chris uneasy about staying in Stephanie’s house. Thinking they are safe only to have a horde of the monsters sniff them out later. The zombies would pursue them with no less drive than this undead woman. He wouldn’t be able to cope with the idea that they were surrounded, having no way out of her home. The zombies would never tire, and never give up. It was something that he didn’t want to think about. He didn’t want to build his own coffin to die in. They needed to stay on the move. Maybe staying at her house was a bad idea.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, Chris!” Stephanie shoved him on the shoulder from the backseat.

A dozen undead creatures started closing in. Chris let up on the brake and picked up speed.

“We need to keep it drawn out for a minute. I want to make sure they follow us.” He honked the horn and then gave it some gas. Taking the lead, the car headed down the street past the gushing hydrant. The dead trailed behind.

One block later, they came to rest at a stop sign and waited. Looking in the rearview mirror, Chris watched, as nearly fifty ghouls came together in the street, heading right for the car. With arms raised, an eerie glow covered them in the brake’s red lights.

The plan appeared to be working. He turned the steering wheel and drove east, away from the house. Although hopeful, Chris was beginning to wonder if they would make it back undetected. They had drawn out more zombies than he had anticipated.           

After several minutes, making an uneven circle, Chris stopped the car. “You guys ready to do this? It’s now or never, guys,” he said. “Just in case,” he breathed, snatching the keys from the ignition and shutting off the headlights. Chris Commons and his companions stepped out of the vehicle and into the shadows.

Chapter Four

Chris stood under the hot running water as it beat down from the showerhead. At his feet, red ran along the bathtub and down the drain from his body. His blood soaked clothes lay scattered across the bathroom’s tile floor. Chris hadn’t realized how strong the awful stench of putrid and dismembered flesh really was until getting into the shower. Although Coconut Splash wasn’t his choice in shampoo, Chris imagined it as a perfect fit for Stephanie. She reminded him of a tropical beauty with her tan skin, sun blonde hair, and almond shaped eyes. The hand lotion, facial cream and even the wet wipes by the sink had Island scents. This was definitely a girl’s only bathroom, which is why he was glad he had packed some of his own things. Constant touring kept him prepared. He never knew when he would get the next shower or at whose house he would end up crashing. Not only did his backpack always have two fresh pairs of underwear and a clean shirt, he also had soap and a toothbrush with Crest toothpaste; not to mention a few other grooming tools. The aroma of Irish Spring filled his nostrils, reminding him of those silly green soap bar commercials from the early 90’s. It was his favorite.

Chris started feeling paranoid during his rinse. The trip to Stephanie’s had been a success, but had they actually crept nearly three blocks unnoticed? Only time would tell. They made it to the house without sighting one zombie. After double-checking that the doors and windows were locked, they closed all of the blinds, agreeing it was best to keep a low profile. A few of the light fixtures had dimmer switches and were turned up just enough to avoid tripping hazards. The main goal was to remain as quiet as possible.

Chris didn’t much like the idea of making noise from running water in the shower, but he had no choice. He wasn’t about to spend the rest of his time on the run covered in his dead cousin’s blood. Steve was next and then probably Stephanie. That was bad for them, because the water was already starting to lose its warmth.

With the hot water entirely depleted, Chris reached down and turned off the shower. The pipes inside the wall groaned and screeched, making him feel a little uneasy.
No way could that have been heard outside. It just seemed loud, because I’m right next to the pipes. Yeah, that’s it,
he thought, stepping out of the shower
.

As he searched for a towel his wet feet left wet tracks on the floor. The towel on top of the stack in the cabinet was hot pink and had a big chocolate cupcake printed in the middle. It made him smile. The bathroom cabinet was nice and tidy. The towels were separated not only by size, but by color as well. It wasn’t until then that he noticed the entire bathroom was that way. The various belongings on the sink’s counter were also arranged according to size and color. Chris made a mental note of this, wanting to see if Steve picked up on it later.

With a fresh shirt and underwear, Chris had no choice but to wear his old pants and socks. The blood stained jeans felt stiff and heavy. After brushing his teeth and combing his hair, he made his way into the living room.

Steve and Stephanie were sitting close on the couch. Stephanie held a school yearbook and both were pointing at pictures and laughing.

“Yep… that was me in the seventh grade,” she said with a grin.

“Man, you were a chubby little kid.”

“Hey!”

“Ha! Well, it’s true,” he smiled shoving her playfully.

“Shower’s free,” Chris said, walking up with his backpack sagging in one arm. “What are we looking at?”

“My yearbooks. Steve saw them on the shelf and just started pulling them out,” she said, and pointed across the room to a shelf full of color coordinated and neatly aligned books. “This is me when I was little,” she said, lifting the book for Chris to see.

“Cute,” he said. “Chubby, but cute.” He smiled at Steve having overheard the bug-eyed guy’s remark about her picture.

“You sure were in there a long time,” Steve said.

“Yeah, well it’s all yours now.” Chris rounded the long L-shaped couch, finding a seat across from Stephanie. Out of habit, he took out his laptop and turned it on. “Do you have Wi-Fi?”

“Yes, I do. It’s the only one that should pop up. None of my neighbors has it. Password’s cupcake in all caps.”

Remembering the towel in the bathroom, Chris smirked.

“Do you really think the net is still going to be up?" She shifted on the couch next to Steve.

“Why wouldn’t it? The power is still on, isn’t it? Just because the world seems to have fallen apart over the course of one day doesn’t mean the satellites are just going to fall from the sky.”

“Good point.”

“Hey, you should totally see what the word is on Sunday’s show, man.” Steve took off his glasses and cleaned them on his dirty shirt. “Got a few friends that said they would totally come. Going to be a big party after, I’m sure.”

“Dude, I totally doubt the show it still on. Last time I checked, the world kind of got taken over by zombies, or did you miss that? Not to mention, we are kind of missing a band member!”

Steve shrugged it off, pretending to go back to the yearbook. He seemed to lose himself in thought and Chris figured that Steve was probably still in denial about Mark’s death.

While waiting for the computer to boot, Chris looked around the room. Dark reds and grays unlike the bright girly bathroom accented the living room’s modern décor. Black and white photos set a certain mood. The large wraparound couch was black microfiber. The glass coffee table had a base made from a tree stump. It had feet carved to look like a lion’s paws. The room looked as if it would fit in a modern vampire thriller on the Sci-fi channel. 

“I’ve got to admit, this is one of the coolest looking living rooms I’ve ever sat in. And that’s saying a lot, considering.”