My Zombie Summer (Book 1): The Undead Road (4 page)

I had to admit, that was quite a coincidence.

“Take it slow,” Mom said. “You’ll make yourself sick.” Kaylynn rummaged through the grocery bag for another piece and came up empty. “That’s all of it.”

My stomach growled. Thanks, Mom . . .

“There’s four of us,” she continued. “How many people are with you?”

“I asked,” I said. “She wouldn’t give me a—”

“No one,” Kaylynn answered. “It’s just me.”

I looked at her again.
Now
she’s talking . . .

“Alone? For how long?” Mom asked.

“I don’t know . . . a week, I think?”

Mom turned to me. “Family meeting.”

I figured as much. Mom guided me outside. When she turned her back, the girl sneered at me. I returned the gesture. I couldn’t understand girls. They’re so quick to give you a hard time when none was asked for. So I almost shot her in the face. Big deal. I said I was sorry. She should’ve been grateful that I went into the RV unprepared and let her eat the last of my precious jerky.

Dad had his back to the RV, scanning the vacant soybean field to the south. “She’ll want to keep that dog,” he said. “Tough call. What do you think, Julie?”

Mom was silent, like she was giving the situation more thought. “I’m not comfortable leaving her alone. Would it be so bad if she brought her dog along?”

“She doesn’t want to come,” I interrupted. “She told us to get lost.”

“That’s her trauma talking,” Mom said. “Who knows what she’s been through?”

“I know what
I’ll
go through if we bring that dog inside the car,” Dad said. “I’ll break out in hives first, and then I’ll have trouble breathing. You know how sensitive I am to dog hair.”

Dad made a good point. For years, Jewel and I had begged for a dog or a cat, even a parakeet. He never budged. Not that I blamed him. Anything with fur or feathers was his kryptonite. If we locked Dad in a closet with a dog, he’d be dead in ten minutes, or so he kept reminding us. That left reptiles, insects, amphibians and other non-furry or feathered animals for pets. Boring. I had lost track of how many goldfish we’d flushed.

“What if we hang a blanket in the back and opened the window?” Mom asked.

“Quarantine the dander?” Dad looked over his shoulder, at the Explorer. “We could try that.”

We could, but I wasn’t about let this girl ride with us after that stunt she had pulled, even if it was her idea of a joke. But I couldn’t leave her to starve. Knowing my parents, the choice was not mine to make. I turned to the RV door. If she came with us, I would keep an eye on her. But in all honestly, the thought of keeping an eye on her didn’t seem like such a bad thing to do.

“Well, she told us to leave her alone,” Dad said.

Mom sighed. “Will you leave her alone, Kevin?”

“I’m ready to go when you are,” Kaylynn said.

She stepped out of the RV, the dog following at her heels. Now that she was outside, she looked taller—maybe an inch or two taller than me. Her dark clothes and black hair stood out in the sun, her bat resting on her shoulder. She also had a blue Cubs cap on her head.

Dad looked for a second. “Changed your mind?”

“The people who argued about me last time are dead now.” Her voice had a chilling effect on the hot air. “The same thing’s going happen to you guys if you waste your time talking about me. So let’s go.”

“Just a moment, Kaylynn.” Dad turned his back on the girl and formed a tight huddle with Mom and me. “She’s not exactly a bright ray of sunshine, is she?”

Mom laughed. “No different when I met you.”

“I didn’t go around making choices for others.”

“What do you think, Jeremy?” Mom said.

I wasn’t about to say
no
out loud. “Sure.”

Dad turned back to the girl. “We’ll give you a ride to the next town. How does that sound?”

“Cool,” she said. “Hold out your hands for Chloe, please.” I’ve never owned a dog, but I knew why she had us to do that. The best way to gain a dog’s trust is to let them smell you. I think Chloe took a liking to us fast. She licked my hand several times. Her long tongue was warm and slippery. “Wait, I forgot something.” Kaylynn ran to the RV. “Be back in just a second!”

“We’ll take your dog.” Mom called to Kaylynn before she turned to me. “Stay with her, okay?”

I reluctantly agreed. Dad kept his distance as Mom guided the mutt around the front of the RV. A breeze tousled my hair. It needed a cut. When Kaylynn came back, she had this new chain around her neck. A dragon pendant made of silver or steel, a red gem set in its eye.

“I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m going to keep an eye on you,” I said.

“Good. Someone should.” I caught a close glimpse of her dark, navy blue eyes. They matched her baseball cap. To say I could’ve drowned in those eyes would’ve been corny to the extreme, but the cliché was a perfect fit. If only she’d stop glaring at me. “I won’t stay long.”

“You’d rather be by yourself? Why?”

A bee flew between us. I jumped back.

“I’m jinxed,” she said. “Get out of the way.”

She stepped up to me, raising her bat again.

“Our car is behind you, genius . . .”

“Get out of the way, you idiot!”

She pushed me aside. Hard. I was about to say something, but the approaching Stalker shut me up. He had torn overalls, stained with dried blood. Something had bitten a large chunk of skin out of his neck. Like a seasoned all-star stepping up to the plate, Kaylynn gripped her bat, swung, and smacked the guy in the face. I fumbled for my .45, but then the Vector did something I’d never seen a Vector do. He fell back, holding his face with both hands—growling in pain.

Kaylynn pulled me by the elbow. “Come on!”

We ran for it, just as the Vector rebounded—more venomous and determined than before. When the Explorer came into view, I called for help. Mom and Dad were too busy with the back of the car, but Jewel popped up through the sunroof, holding her new rifle.

She aimed the barrel right at us.

“Hit the highway!” I cried.

I pulled Kaylynn to the pavement and reached for the .45 in my pocket, in case Jewel missed. A thunderous
boom
and a half-headless Stalker ended my panic. His brains splashed over the trunk of a white VW Jetta like a ruptured watermelon, and fell to a heap on the road. Jewel was looking mighty pleased with herself. I hadn’t seen a smile on her face that wide since she’d taken down that zombified old geezer back in Iowa.

“Did somebody order a pizza?” she asked.

Kaylynn stared at me, incredibly close. “Pizza?”

“Uh—inside joke. It means, ‘Everything’s okay.’”

The girl kicked up her feet and headed for the Explorer, shaking her head. Jewel told me to hurry up, but something compelled me to examine the Vector—dead and motionless on the highway. He was a farmer, maybe from the house with the vinyl fence we’d passed earlier. As I pocketed my .45, a feeling hit me, a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time. It made my stomach churn.

Had that Vector reacted to pain?

I didn’t know what to think.

Horror is my least favorite genre. I never understood how anyone could watch movies about morons dying horrific deaths, unless it was the perfect excuse for a girl to snuggle close to her date when the psychopath in a hockey mask showed up with a butcher knife. I was never that lucky. My exposure came mainly from watching late-night SyFy channel marathons. Then I discovered the zombie flick. I could tolerate those well enough—even if the majority of them were equally goofy with questionable, puppet-master aliens and bizarre Romero-esque theories explaining how people could rise from the grave and start feasting on others:

Radiation from a passing comet . . .

I guess that works?

“There’s no room left in Hell . . .”

Are you serious?

Slugs taking control of your body . . .

That’s . . . unbelievable . . .

A genetically engineered bioweapon let loose on the world . . .

A theoretical possibility? Now we’re talking!

When I heard the medical expert on the radio before the station died, I had a hunch that this was our problem. There had to be some kind of outbreak, one that resulted in getting infected by the smallest scratch or bite, and eventually turned people into mindless carnivores. This thing also turned the whites of their eyes red, like in that other zombie flick I’d slept through. A rage virus, they called it. I’m glad people didn’t turn into Vectors seconds after they were bit.

There was also that remake when a horde of twenty or so zombies ran up the stairs and stopped, because a guy was pointing a shotgun at them. Major IQ points slipped out of my ears during that B-fest. A real zombie wouldn’t hesitate. Ever. They don’t share their spoils with the other undead either, like in the movie where they equally divided their victim before eating him.

Pardon me, my good zombie, would you hand me his lung?

Sure, my undead fellow! Do sample his delicious kidneys.

Meh.

In spite of my useless movie trivia, our survival depended on separating the facts from fiction. Science fiction is the precursor to science fact, said some guy I don’t know. But he couldn’t have been more right! This was our fact now. Without military help, we had to deal with these Vectors. There had to be a reasonable explanation, and a way to stop them. Given enough time, maybe they’d drop dead on their own. Until then, we had to survive in any way possible. And sitting next to a certified hottie was strangely reassuring to me.

Kaylynn was wedged between my sister and me. Her dog was sitting in the back, the window half open. Five minutes later, Dad had no respiratory or swelling problems to speak of. Jewel started her interrogation, excited to be sitting next to another girl for a change.

“Where’re you from?” Jewel asked.

“North Dakota,” Kaylynn answered.

That explained her pale skin.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

She was older than me? I could live with that.

“Where’s your family?”

“It’s just Chloe and me.”

My mind went blank. How long was she alone?

“You’ll make her regret this, Jewel,” Mom warned.

By her expressionless face, Kaylynn already had.

“What music do you like?” Jewel asked next.

Kaylynn paused. “Music? It’s been a while.”

Jewel reached into her pocket behind Mom’s chair and pulled out her iPod. “Could you turn the radio on, Dad?” When he did, Jewel synchronized her iPod with it and settled on a Katie Perry song. She jammed to the beat of
Roar
while Kaylynn gave me an awkward glance.

Why the look? I didn’t listen to that stuff.

Dad let off the gas. “This looks like a good place.”

Jewel turned her music off—thank the universe—and looked out her window. The car rolled for half a mile before Dad applied the brakes and stopped at a turnoff. There was a house to my left, shrouded by trees. The girls leaned my way to see, except Kaylynn made it a point to avoid touching me, like I had cooties.

Being the gentleman that I am, I returned the favor and moved over as much as I could. In my effort to keep my distance, I saw a couple of gas tanks outside, in front of an abandoned aluminum shack. There were two Highway 92 signs at the end of the intersection. One of the signs pointed west. The other east.

Another city sign was at the corner of a tall grassy field:
David City: from East to West, there’s only one.

Dad looked back at Jewel. “Ready for a lesson?”

She was out the door before Mom could object.

We spent the next fifteen minutes in the car while Dad taught Jewel how to use her new rifle. The thing looked really heavy for her. If she planned on using the roof of our car to support her arm, she wouldn’t have a problem. But what if she had to use it outside the car? This thought worried me the most. What if we had to leave the Explorer? What if Mom and Dad never came back from a raid? Aside from the Vector that she’d saved me from a few miles behind us, Jewel didn’t have a clue on how to face these things up close. If anyone knew my little sister better than my parents, I did.