The Darkening (A Zombie Awakening) (5 page)

             
“Seriously?” She rolled up her window while Hanna took care of the back ones. “Hanna, keep Lady quiet. Tie something around her mouth
so she can’t bark
and
then
get on the floor.”

             
This couldn’t be happening. Completely impossible. Zombies weren’t real. She wiggled her way under the steering wheel. Her heart beat so loud she swore they’d be able to hear it.

             
An odd skritching sound passed on both sides of the car. Chalice clamped a hand over her mouth, sure they could hear her breathing
, smell her sweat
.

An hour passed
before
she felt safe to venture from the station wagon. She
wriggled back to her seat and studied the area around them. Quiet. Not even a sign from the looters.

“If you run across one, you have to shoot it in the head
or ram something into their skull. You have to kill the brain
,” Mychal told her. “Nothing else works.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Movies.”

“Gross.”
She
motioned for her brother and sister to stay in the car, then kept low as she made her way to the motor home
, her rifle clutched in her hand
.
She’d watched a zombie movie once and said she never would again. Now, she lived one. Too weird.

             
The back door hung open. One glance told her someone had cleaned out anything of value inside. That was fine. All she cared about was the roof over their heads and gas in the tank. Until she stepped inside and saw the bodies.

             
An elderly couple sat slumped at the table, a bullet hole in the center of each of their foreheads. Clearly someone shot them then stole their supplies.
At least they weren’t one of those things.
She swallowed down the acid in her throat.
Now,
sh
e need
ed
to dispose of the bodies.

             
She slung her rifle strap across her shoulders and grabbed the woman beneath the arms.
So that’s
where the term dead weight came from. She grunted and dragged the woman outside and into the culvert, then went back for the man.

When she’d finished, she stood and stared at their lifeless bodies in the ashy dirt and wished she could spare the time to bury them properly. Instead, she opted for a short prayer, then motioned for her siblings to start transferring
things
from the Rambler to the motor home.

             
She climbed to the top of their new home and kept watch, praying they could save everything before more zombies showed up. Even the word sounded ridiculous. If she hadn’t seen them with her own eyes, she never would have believed it. She still didn’t. Zombies weren’t real!

###

             
Colton took a swig from his water bottle, then squirted the rest into Buddy’s mouth, grateful for the hundredth time that day he’d brought the dog with him. A four-legged companion was better than no companion at all. Besides, he was a great deterrent when people got too close to the Suburban.
His massive head looked like he could take off somebody’s face.

             
Colton scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Nobody needs to know you’re just a big old teddy bear.”

             
He transferred his attention back to the line at the gas pump. Amazing that the owner could keep control of the “customer
s
”. Money wouldn’t be any good for a long time in this new world
, if ever
. The man appeared to be bartering gasoline for food. Colton hoped he had something the man would want as he watched one car be denied for lack of payment.

             
Colton watched in his rearview mirror as a rusty Chevy roared up behind him. He edged the Suburban closer
to the pump
. No way was the guy getting in front of him. The Chevy growled and touched his bumper. Colton lifted the rifle from the passenger seat and slowly slid it to the dashboard. In plain sight of any fool who wanted to force the issue.

             
Finally, he pulled up to a pump. The owner carried a rifle across his back and a pistol in a holster.

             
Colton nodded and noted the name on the man’s uniform. “So, how much for the gas, Ed?”

             
“What do you have?” Ed narrowed his eyes.

             
“What do you need?”

             
“Look kid, there’s a line a mile long behind you. I’m going to run out of gas way before I run out of customers. I’m not in the mood for games.
Besides, someone said there was a herd of zombies headed this way
,
and I aim to be long gone.
”

             
Okay, now things were getting really
strange
. Zombies. What would they think of next?
“Will five packs of cigarettes fill up my tank?”

             
The man grinned. “That’ll fill up your tank and a five gallon container.”

             
Colton fished the cigs from behind the seat while the man
siphoned gas to
fill the Suburban’s tank. Yep, the case of cigarettes he’d filched would be like cash money. Where could he
get
more?
Maybe some booze.

             
He rested his arm on the open window. “Do you know whether the roads are clear from here to the Oklahoma border?”

             
“I wouldn’t take Interstate 40 if I was you. Heard tell it’s clogged with abandoned cars
and those
…
things
.”

             
Yeah, but Colton drove a vehicle with a reinforced front bumper. He could plow his way through and avoid crowds.
“What are you talking about?
What things?
”

             
“Have you been hiding in a cave for the last month?” The attendant shook his head. “The meteor shower set off a plague of some sort. There’s thousands of walking dead feeding off the living. If I were you, I’d get to the least populated area you can and
keep
low.”

             
“Are you serious?” Colton peered at the man’s eyes. “Are you high on something?”

             
C
ar
s honked down the line, drawing his attention. A large crowd of people shuffled toward them. One man stood through the sunroof of his car and started shooting
a nine millimeter
. The people kept coming. What kind of world had Colton ventured back into?

             
Buddy barked from the open window.

             
“Kid, roll up those windows, shut up that dog, and get the hell out of here.” The attendant shut off the pump and dashed back into his shop. A heavy mesh curtain unrolled, striking the concrete with a thunk.

             
Tank full
, Colton jumped behind the wheel and burned rubber out of the parking lot
. Not that he had a particular destination in mind, but speed called his name.
His heart beat erratically, blood thumping in his temple
.

             
By the time they reached the interstate, Colton’s fingers on the steering wheel cramped.
He’d seen the movies, read the books.
He knew what was coming.
Someday, he’d have to shoot somebody in the head. Could he?

             
Buddy woofed and his tail wagged. Ahead of them,
a
girl about Colton’s age and two younger kids climbed into the back of a motor home. A German Shepherd hopped in after them. Within minutes, the motor home roared to life. Like a demolition derby driver, the motor home plowed through the stalled cars, clearing a path.

             
Cool. Colton followed in the motor home’s wake
with the vision of a dark-haired girl in his mind
.
One that wasn’t of the walking dead
variety
.

Chapter 5

             
Chalice glanced in her side view mirror. The black suburban had been following them since early afternoon. It stayed far enough behind that she couldn’t tell whether a man or woman drove
or how many people were inside
. Only that the biggest dog she’d ever seen hung its head out the window
and slobbered on the glass
.
Hopefully, taking advantage of her moving vehicles
off the road
was their only motive.

             
Zombies didn’t drive, she didn’t think. Nor would they have a pet.

             
“Can I use the toilet in here?” Hanna opened the door to a room no bigger than a broom closet.

             
“Yes, but don’t use the shower. I don’t know how much water they’ve managed to store in the tanks.” Did a motor home have tanks?
There were so many things she didn’t know.
She shook her head and concentrated on barreling through the throng of cars. The twenty-foot house on wheels wasn’t the easiest thing she’d ever driven.

Before they’d gone the first mile, she almost changed her mind about taking it
when she sideswiped the first road sign and sent Hanna into screaming hysterics at the screech of metal against metal
.

Not to mention she’d had to slow down numerous times because she was afraid of doing damage to the undercarriage.
And her hands and arms hurt. A lot. Driving the big boat of a vehicle wasn’t easy.

             
Tears burned
her
eyes. She shouldn’t be a mother to her
brother and sister
. She ought to be nothing more than the bossy older sister. Making survival decisions in a hostile world was not on her to-do list. She wanted college and a teaching career. She sniffed and swiped the back of her hand across her face.

             
The darkness increased
,
and she flipped on the
headbeams
. Occasionally she spotted people shuffling along the shoulder of the road, rummaging through garbage or peering into cars. Most ignored her as she passed,
while
others stared with
half-eaten faces or battered bodies.
Why hadn’t more people prepared for the worst case scenario the president warned might happen?
Not in her wildest imagination would she have thought a plague that turned people into zombies could happen.

One time, she’d heard a politician say that everyone should prepare for a zombie attack. If you were prepared for zombies, you were prepared for anything. She wished she would’ve taken him more seriously.

             
Where was
the president
now? Safe in some bunker planning on how to rule the new world
while kids struggled to put food in their mouths
?
While people fought to survive and not be food themselves
?

It still hurt that they’d left their home and their mother’s car behind. Chalice stiffened her back. But she had to think about Mychal and Hanna now. Not m
e
mentos of a life they’d never get back.
It haunted her that she might have actually seen her mother’s burned body walk out of the house. Most likely it was someone else since their mother died during the firestorm, but now she’d never know for sure.
And if the burned woman had been her mother, which she doubted, she would’ve tried to kill them all the same.

Did she want to know? She groaned. She didn’t know anything.

             
The headbeams of the Suburban shined off her mirror. Chalice squinted against the glare. The vehicle now trailed only a few feet behind. She pulled to the side of the road. Maybe he’d pass. The Suburban moved
over
,
too.

             
Chalice huffed air through her lips then chewed the inside of her cheek. What should she do? She glanced over her shoulder to where Mychal and Hanna curled up on one of the beds
asleep
.

Should she confront the driver? What if they needed her help? Wouldn’t they flash their lights or something?
There was strength in numbers. If the other driver could be trusted, then having someone else along would be good.

             
Her stomach rolled
,
and she swallowed down the acid
churning her stomach
. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the motor home. It shined like a huge beacon with a target that says follow me. In a smaller car, they could’ve blended in
, but would have had to leave more of their personal belongings behind
.