Journal of the Undead (Book 1): Littleville Uprising (3 page)

Matt laughed so hard he could scarcely breathe. Evan fully expected Matt to rescind the offer to hang out after school. He was surprised when Matt didn’t.

“I’d better get to class. Meet me in the parking lot after last period.”

Evan dashed off to his next class, relieved that his rash behavior hadn’t sabotaged his chance to make a new friend.

The parking lot was already emptying as Matt and Evan strolled to his car. Still brooding over her exchange with Evan, Emma was slumped in the passenger seat, waiting for her brother. With the music cranked on her iPod, she hummed along absentmindedly to the music, completely unaware that they were about to have company. With a fleeting twinge of guilt, Matt opened the driver’s side door and asked Emma to hop in the back. The color drained from her face when she saw Evan waiting on the passenger side.

“You have
got
to be kidding me!” she protested.

“It’s rude to make a guest ride in the back and you know I’ll get grounded too if I let you drive,” Matt insisted.

Furious, Emma hurled her bag into the back seat and, after glaring hatefully at both of them, scrambled over the seat after it. The angry words Emma snarled were unintelligible but neither dared to ask her to repeat them.

An awkward silence hung in the air the entire ride. Matt barely had the car in park before Emma jumped out and dashed through their front door.

“So, Evan, you any good at Trig? Looks like Emma won’t be helping me any time soon.”

As the boys made their way upstairs to Matt’s room, they could hear the hum of the vacuum cleaner.

“Is she OCD or something?” Evan laughed.

Matt explained that Emma was grounded and their stepmom, Jillian, left a daily list of chores for her to complete. It was the usual stuff: dust, vacuum, wash dishes, cook dinner.

“With Emma doing all the housework my stepmom has more time for important stuff … like manicures. I’d invite you to stay for dinner but Em is cooking. She’d probably poison us both. I’m already a goner … no point in killing you off too.”

After a couple of hours, Jillian crashed through the front door, arms loaded with bags from the trendiest stores the local mall had to offer. She shouted to Matt, telling him to bring in the rest. Both boys descended the stairs and Matt introduced Evan to his stepmother.

Jillian envisioned herself as being the very picture of elegance. She dedicated many hours to hair, nails and makeup, not to mention expensive jewelry. By selecting the proper designs, her clothing perfectly camouflaged the slight imperfections age had etched into her body. Jillian’s overly styled hair was frozen in place but, even through the thick hairspray, it was obvious that no one could attain that shade of red naturally.

Jillian was impressed with Evan’s impeccable manners and clean-cut good looks. She hoped that he would be a frequent visitor and that, perhaps, the twins would absorb his polite manners. The twin terrors, as she secretly called her stepchildren, needed a good influence. Jillian had never heard either twin call anyone ‘ma’am’ as Evan just had. She had no doubt that Emma and Matt had a long list of things they called her, but ‘ma’am’ certainly wasn’t one of them.

“Will you be joining us for dinner, Evan?”

From the kitchen, Emma heard Jillian’s invitation. Bile rose in her throat as she rushed to the doorway to listen for Evan’s reply. Tendrils of hair, strays that had slipped out from her ponytail, fluttered on each exhale. Her skin was flushed, both from the exertion of her chores and fury that she might have to cook for her newest enemy. Her beauty momentarily stunned Evan but he recovered quickly and politely declined.

“Pity you can’t stay,” Emma sneered. Then, spinning on her heels, she returned to the kitchen.

Jillian was horrified by Emma’s outburst but Evan managed to distract her. With a few of his compliments and a charming smile, Jillian quickly forgot Emma’s rudeness. Even though his twin hadn’t noticed, Matt was grateful for the diversion. It was no secret that Jillian despised housework and she was only too anxious to keep Emma in the role of Cinderella. If Evan hadn’t stepped in, Emma would have had at least two weeks, if not more, added to her sentence. Emma’s inability to hold her tongue had already turned a two-week punishment into three months.

Shortly after six o’clock, Alan Wexley trudged through the door. Emma was just setting the last dish on the table when her father entered. Family dinners had been a source of joy for both Matt and Emma until Jillian entered the picture. After their dad remarried, the twins found it unbearable. Dr. Wexley often noticed the sadness in his children’s eyes and it broke his heart that he had no idea how to comfort them. He had been naïve enough to think that Jillian could help fill the void his children felt with the passing of their mother and possibly assuage their grief but he’d been wrong.

There was an unspoken agreement between the twins and Jillian; they all played nice during dinner. Between bites, they exchanged pleasantries like a happy family. Because of the demands of Alan’s job, the brief time they shared at the dinner table was often all he had to give. None of them wanted to spoil it by bickering. Jillian prattled on enthusiastically about her day while the twins tried not to roll their eyes.

“I have some news too. Our new director finally arrived and we really hit it off. Friday night, we’re having dinner with Major Stone and his family.”

Emma felt a wave of nausea crash over her.
Clearly, our new address is in the fifth ring of Hell
, she bemoaned to herself.

Unaware of her distress, her father continued, “I think the major’s son might be in your grade. He has a daughter too, although I’m not sure about her age.”

In the midst of her panic, Emma was struck by inspiration. “It’s a shame I’ll have to miss it but I’m still grounded.”

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. Of course you’ll be excused from your punishment to join the family for dinner.”

Convinced that her dinner was going to come right back up again, Emma stood to clear the table. As she loaded the dishwasher, she tried to formulate a new plan.
Stomach flu? Respiratory infection? 24-hour tumor?
She had three days to come up with a convincing reason to stay home and avoid Evan.

***

It had been several weeks since encountering the mutilated Campbell family and, since the ordeal, there had been a sharp rise in gory, violent crimes. Shortly after John Campbell and his family were delivered to the hospital, there were attacks on an orderly, two nurses and a doctor. At the grocery store, a seventy-five-year-old woman was bitten by a mugger who’d tried to steal her pocketbook. After twenty-plus stitches the old gal had a heart attack and died. In the same strip mall, a couple of teens were assaulted by a drifter. If it hadn’t been for his rookie partner, Officer Scott Raines would have happily forgotten the whole bloody mess with the Campbells, but Kepler insisted they were somehow linked together.

By far, the most gruesome event had taken place near Ursinus College’s campus. By the time the police arrived on the scene, both male and female partygoers had been shredded to the bone. The sole survivor had lost copious amounts of blood and was clearly in shock. After the hospital administered some powerful sedatives, she calmed down enough to speak with Kepler and Raines. The co-ed sounded stoned and her words slurred, but she managed to stay awake long enough to give a statement.

“Our party was totally raging. We had loads of liquor and … oops! I can’t believe I just told the cops I was drinking. Are you gonna take me to jail?”

“As long as you tell us the absolute truth, you won’t be brought up on charges. You have my word,” Raines said.

“M’kay ... but you promised. Anyway, a buncha guys showed up but they looked like they’d started partying
long
before they got there. They were, like, really sloppy … slurring and tripping over stuff. One of ‘em slumped in the corner and passed out. I’m not really sure how long he was out, but it seemed like forever. It’s just so wrong, ya know? Our party was amazing. We were sure the whole campus would be talking about it for weeks. Hmm, guess they still will, just not for the same reason. Anyway, it wasn’t until most people left, or disappeared with their hook-ups, that we noticed him. That one guy was still in the corner. We decided to let him sleep it off and we all sorta crashed. Some passed out on the sofa and some were sleeping on the floor. I was in my bedroom with Hunter and … oh God. You cannot tell my parents that! Seriously, you can’t, okay?”

“We’re not concerned with who was in your bedroom. Just keep going. You’re doing fine.” Raines shook his head as he scribbled, ‘She’s killing me’ on his notepad for his partner to see. Kepler coughed to cover his laugh.

“We heard screaming. That’s what woke us up. When we came out, there was blood, like, everywhere. M-My s-s-sisters were …” She dissolved into inconsolable sobbing. The officers tried to comfort her, but she was beyond rational discussion. “I-I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

Her loud cries attracted the nurses who bustled in, scowling at the officers. The more the nurses fawned over her, the louder she bawled. Finally, Officer Scott Raines’ patience was exhausted.

“Enough!” Raines bellowed. He then changed his tone to one of compassion before continuing, “I understand that you are upset and you saw something horrible. But if you don’t help us, we can’t protect you, or anyone else. For all we know, the murderer is still out there and you, YOU, are the only surviving witness. Help us, help you.”

“Yeah,” Kepler added, playing his role in the good cop/bad cop scenario, “because if you don’t, we’ll charge you with everything from obstruction of justice to underage drinking. Not to mention, if your parents bail you out, they’ll get to see your rap sheet and confession.”

The girl’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. After a minute, she stopped bawling and regained her composure. She dismissed the nurses and agreed to continue.

“Okay, where was I?” Her voice wavered but she was determined to finish her statement. “Bodies, at least five, maybe more, were on the floor covered in blood. It looked like someone had ripped them apart. Parts of their insides were … hanging out … spilling all over the carpet. That boy, the one who’d been passed out, was awake. He was crouched over Tracy and he was …”

The girl’s face turned green and her body spasmed like she was going to vomit. Raines and Kepler stepped back to get out of the splash zone but she recovered.

“He was eating her.” Tears flowed freely down her cheeks but she no longer bothered to wipe them away. “Hunter ran over, grabbed the guy and punched him in the face. It was like the guy didn’t even feel it; like he was trying to … I dunno. I tried to help, but he was just so strong. He grabbed my arm and, look, he bit me. See?”

She raised the sleeve of her hospital gown to reveal oozing bandages.

“Hunter yelled for me to go get help. I knocked on Hannah’s door ‘cause her boyfriend is huge and he does MMA. When she didn’t answer, I thought maybe they were asleep. I opened the door; she was all butchered, just like the others. Her boyfriend was gnawing on her leg like it was freaking KFC! I ran back to my bedroom, grabbed my phone and called 911. The operator told me to lock the door and wait for the police to arrive. I could hear Hunter screaming but I was so scared. He’s dead, isn’t he? Hunter, I mean?”

The officers nodded; Hunter was dead. They left the grief-stricken girl in the capable hands of her nurses. As they left, Kepler slipped his card into the soft hands of a pretty nurse.

“If she remembers anything else, just give me a call.”

The next day, the nurse called. Her patient had died in the night, bringing the sorority party death total up to eleven.

***

Despite Emma’s best excuses, Friday evening found her being ordered upstairs to change into something presentable. Jillian’s suggestion that Emma should try putting on a little makeup was met with rolling eyes and an exasperated sigh. As Emma sat on her bed and stared into her closet, she considered ‘accidentally’ tripping down the stairs; a fractured skull seemed to be a small price to pay.

Every few seconds, Dr. Wexley checked his watch and sighed.

“That’s it! I’ve had enough.” Jillian charged upstairs to pick out something appropriate for Emma to wear.

Visibly annoyed, she tossed a long denim skirt and a flattering burgundy sweater at Emma. “You have exactly five minutes to change and get your butt in the car, young lady, and that’s final!”

***

Waiting in his room, dread churned in Evan’s stomach. As he wrote in his journal, he noted the expression about paybacks.

If Emma even hints about the way I treated her, Dad is going to kill me! (Mom too.) It’s like I can already hear her chewing me out. I know she’ll feel sorry for Emma— losing her mother so young, trapped with a nightmare of a stepmom, overshadowed by her “perfect” brother, a father who’s never around, and having to start over in a new school
…

As his thoughts poured onto the page, Evan felt guiltier than ever.

This is going to be a very long night! It’ll be a miracle if I don’t end up grounded too.

Lucy, Evan’s eight-year-old sister, poked her head into his bedroom. “Mom said come downstairs. The guests will be here soon.”

As he rose, Evan could hear the doorbell. It sounded like the clang of impending doom.