Love & the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1, Zombie Apocalypse Trilogy) (4 page)

Chapter Five

“A zombie?”  Cage asked.

“In the flesh,” the girl said.  “You better hurry up before she eats you.”

Cage pushed the old woman – the mop still projected through her abdomen – against the wall.  Short wrinkly arms stretched for him, her fingers curled into animal-like claws.  The old woman’s eyes were clear blue.  Her sallow gray face was blank, only consumed by rage.  Or, if this girl was right, maybe hunger fueled the insanity.

Cage
drew back the mop stick, ignoring the awful sound it made as he heaved it free.  The stick slid loose, staining the wood red, and the woman pounced on him. With only a moment’s hesitation and, trying not to think about what he was about to do, he raised the jagged mop spear and plunged it into her eyeball.

“Nice work,”
the girl said.

“Uh, t
hanks.”  Cage retrieved the mop stick.

Sandra was
slumped against the wall with most of her stomach missing.  She was clearly dead and Cage, even though he didn’t know her very well, felt extremely guilty.  He hadn’t saved her in time.  

The girl
nudged Sandra’s body with her foot.  “She’s dead.”

Cage nodded.

The girl’s eyes were blue – not the nearly transparent color of the zombies’ eyes – but a deep cobalt.  Those cobalt eyes scanned his face and a flicker of recognition passed over them.  Her pretty face scrunched up.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.  Cage Vance?” 

In between the “Cage” and “Vanc
e,” she’d said a curse word that rhymed with “ducking.”  He didn’t recognize her.  “Do I know you?”

“Probably not.” 

His eyes fell to Sandra.  Had she just moved?  No, he must’ve imagined it.  He turned back to the girl.  “Do you go to Flint Prep?” 

“No
.”  She flipped the squared table upright.  “What are you doing at Cecilia’s?  Did you want a slice during the end of the world?” 

“Not exactly, but
the pizza is delicious.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.  What in the hell did he just say? 

Her eyebrows lifted. 
“Especially when the grease pools in the pepperoni cups.” 

C
age grabbed a handful of napkins from the metal dispenser on the table.  Instead of wiping the blood off his arm, he handed them to her.  “That’s my favorite part.”

“Nice weapon.”

Cage lifted the mop stick.  “Last minute choice.  What are you doing here?”

“Huh?”  She wiped at the blood on her tank top. 

“Why are you at Cecilia’s?”  He pointed to the baseball bat.  “Obviously, you’re not picking up a pizza.  You’re armed and you seem to know more about what’s going on than I do.”

“Oh, I heard a woman screaming when I was running by.  I thought I’d try to help her, but I guess I was too late.”

Cage looked down at Sandra’s body.  “That’s pretty brave.  What’s your name?”

“Rachel Cole.”

“Nice to meet you, Rachel.  So, zombies, huh?  That’s kind of hard to believe.”

“Mind blowing
-”

Sandra
’s body twitched.  First her legs and arms and then her entire body convulsed like waves of electricity streamed through her.  Rachel backed up.  “She’s changing.  Time to go.”

“Changing?”

Before Rachel could answer, three zombies crashed through the front glass door.  Cage grabbed Rachel and led her down the hallway.  They tiptoed into the kitchen. Stainless steel appliances crowded the small room and the sweet aroma of Italian sausage filled the air.

Rachel
flipped open a box.  Her fingers wiggled in indecision.

“Are y
ou about to eat a slice of pizza?”  Cage whispered in disbelief.

“
I’m hungry.  I should probably keep my blood sugar up.  It’s going to be a long night.”

“Y
ou might want to help me search for an exit.”

She whirled
around and her face fell.  “There’s not an exit in here?  Isn’t that a fire hazard or something?”

Cage glanced
around the kitchen.  No exit.  They were trapped.  He peeked out the order window.  The zombies wandered around the dining room, bumping into tables.  One zombie wearing a U.S. post office uniform shuffled down the hallway that led to the kitchen.  The other two zombies followed him. 

“Quick!  Under there.”  Cage pointed to a metal
prep table in the middle of the room.  There was enough space below the table’s cabinet to crawl underneath.

“Really?
  You want to hide under a table?”

The zo
mbies stumbled down the hallway.  Their groaning grew louder.  Cage dropped to his knees. “They’re coming!” 

He motioned for Rachel
to get under the prep table.  She glanced out the order window, exhaled and dropped to the floor in a quick lithe motion.  She inched over on her back and Cage slid in beside her. The metal cabinet almost touched his nose. 

The zombies
entered the kitchen. A pair of brown loafers stopped near Cage’s head.  Other feet shuffled around the room, aimlessly bumping into appliances.  Rachel was right – this was a horrible idea.  They were trapped under a table in a very small room with at least three zombies.

B
rown loafers walked around the prep table and stopped near Rachel.  Could the zombies smell them? Was the food masking their scent?  The zombie lingered.  Brown loafers could sense them; Cage knew it.  They were going to be eaten alive on the prep table. 

That was such a bad way t
o go.

Cage inched
his fingers over until he grabbed Rachel’s hand.  He didn’t know why he did it, but it seemed like the right thing to do.  She was probably terrified.  She rotated her head to him and calmly nodded.

Brown loa
fers stepped around the table and then shuffled out of the kitchen.  The other two sets of feet roamed around the room.  A lot of time passed and Cage began to wonder if they’d ever get out from underneath the prep table.  He had to get home.  His parents needed him.  The zombies’ shuffling feet grew more distant.  Groans drifted in from the dining room, but it didn’t sound like any more zombies had entered the pizzeria.  It was now or never.

“Let’s make a run for it,” Cage
whispered.  “My car is parked out back.”

D
ark blue eyes lit up.  “You have a car?”  She licked her lips.  “Of course you have a car – you’re Cage Vance.”

“What?”  He whispered.  What did th
at mean?

Rachel
shook her head.  “Nothing.  Sorry.  I’m ready, let’s go.”

“
Follow me.”  

She
hesitated.  “How many do you think are in the dining room?”

“I
don’t know.  Three? We’ll sneak out the back.”

Cage
slid out from under the prep table.  He turned to help Rachel, but she rolled out on the opposite side.  They crouched under the order window that opened out to the dining room.  Cage rounded the corner and they raced down the hallway to the exit. 

It was dark outside
, which meant they’d been in Cecilia’s for a while.  That wasn’t good.  His parents were old and, if there were more of these things around, they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves.

Cage headed to
his car, but Rachel ran in the opposite direction.  He grabbed her arm, but she flung off his hand.  “Let go of me!” 

He released his grip. 
“Sorry.  You can’t go on foot. Look.” Cage pointed to the two zombies shuffling across the street.

“
I can outrun them.”

Cage blinked. 
“Outrun them?  Are you crazy?  I told you I have a car.”

“You didn’t say you’d give me a lift,” Rachel said.

“Of course I’ll give you a ride.  Where are you going?” 

“To the Wooden Barrel,” Rachel said.

“Zombies have driven you to drink?”

“No.  I ha
ve to get my foster father’s car.”

“Just his car, not your foster father?”

Rachel shook her head.  “A zombie could gnaw on Gene’s face for all I care.  I only need his car.”

The two zombies across the street
wandered aimlessly down the road.  They couldn’t stay exposed like this.  They needed to get to the safety of the car, but he was dying to know.  The words that came out of Rachel’s mouth were fascinating. 
She was fascinating
.  “Where are you going once you get his car?”

“Ann Arbor.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“No
.”  She flipped her head over and tied her long blond hair into a knot on top of her head.  “I’m from Flint.  My little sister is at science camp at the university.  I have to get her and I’m wasting time small talking with you in Cecilia’s parking lot.”

The two
zombies across the street saw them.  The orange glare from the street lamps illuminated their dark outlines.  One was a teenage girl.  She fluidly switched her aimless lumber into a full out sprint. 

Cage cursed.  “Sh
e’s coming.  Let’s go, I’ll drive you.”

Rachel looked like she wanted to argue, but
the zombie was fast.  She swore, too, and took off toward his Escalade, even though two other cars were parked in the lot. 

“Hurry!”  He
unlocked the doors and slid into the driver’s seat.

Rachel
jumped inside.  Cage hit the locks as the teenage zombie crossed into the parking lot.  She was much faster than the zombie couple in the pizzeria.  The old man had advanced at a snail’s pace, but this teenager sprinted like an Olympic athlete. 

T
he teenager’s fingers scraped against the side of the Escalade with a metallic screech.  Rachel covered her ears.  “Go, go, go!”

“I’m going!”  Cage
pressed his foot down on the gas.  “Jeez, why was she so fast?” 

Rachel
twisted in the seat.  “I don’t know.  I saw a lady before – a runner – and she was really fast, too.  I almost didn’t get away.”

“If they are all
that fast, then we’re screwed.”

“Yep.”

Cage fastened his seatbelt.  “How did you know which car was mine?”

“Huh?”  Rache
l still faced the rear window.  Her dark blue eyes followed the teenager chasing after them. 

“You ran straight to my car, eve
n though there were other cars parked in the lot.”

“Oh.”  Rachel
twisted back around.  “I guessed.  It’s an Escalade and you’re Cage Vance.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“Well, for one, my first and last name together
, like it’s one name and we live in the South.  And, two, you talk about me like you know me.  Have we met before?” Cage checked the rearview mirror.  The zombie teenager still chased the SUV, but she was too far behind to catch them. 

“Sorry about the first /
last name combo, but that’s how everyone refers to you.”

“Everyone?”

“In the City of Flint,” Rachel said slowly.  “You are the same Cage Vance that’s the star high school quarterback at Flint Prep, right?  The one who’s being scouted by all of the Big Ten schools?”

Cage felt his face flush. 

“Thought so.” Rachel leaned against the seat. The baseball bat was propped in between her legs.  “Where are you headed?” 

Cage
grabbed his cell phone out of the cup holder.  “Home.  I have to get to my parents.  I’ve been at football practice all day.  Crap.”

“What?” 

“My battery’s dead.”  Cage looked at her.  “Can I use your cell phone?”

“I don’t have one.”
 

“Did you lose it?”

“I don’t own a cell phone.”

“
What?  Really?”

Rachel’s features hardened. 

“That’s cool,” he said.  “I mean, not now.  I wish you had a cell phone now.”

“Yeah, me too.  You don’t have a charger?”

“I think I left it at home.  Can you check my bag in the backseat?”

She
reached into the backseat.  Long tan legs filled the space beside him and he had to tell himself not to stare. 

“Your bag stinks like boy sweat.
  I don’t see a charger.  Only dirty clothes.”  Rachel flipped back around.  “Were you checking out my butt, Cage Vance?”

“What?  No.”

Rachel sighed. 

“I wasn’t,” Cage said.  “Well, maybe just a little.”

She turned to him and openly studied his face.  “I hope your parents are okay.”

“Thanks.  I hope your sister is okay.”