The Undead World (Book 1): The Apocalypse (15 page)

“
Cassie, that's not it,” he said.

The truth was that he hadn
't had an erection since he could remember. It used to be that he always had one part of his mind on a passing hottie or on some chick's ass or on his girlfriend's rack. Now he could barely remember what she looked like. And worse, his dick just sat there all day long, useless and numb, except for when he had to take a leak.

Though with everything going on he hadn
't really thought about it much. He had shoved his sexuality into a back corner of his mind and there it had sat, gathering dust. He had shoved a lot of himself back there.

“
What is it then?” she asked. Despite making all the motions of leaving she hadn't left and was still in the bed with him.

“
Things aren't working right,” he admitted, lowering his gaze to her body—and not feeling a thing. “It's all up in my head. Everything I've done. All the…look it's not you.”

“
I could help. You be surprised how many boys get a little thing worked up in they mind. I can straighten you out.” Her hands went to him again and he began to tighten up and his face went into its hated grimace.

“
No, thanks. Maybe in a few days. Right now it's in my head,” he tried to laugh off the ball of stress that had come to be within his chest. “Why would you want to anyways? I'm a sheep, remember you said that.”

“
Cuz you a ram,” she said with a little shrug. “I thought it was the white girl what kilt all those boys, but she says it was you. And then there's this.” She held up something that was both familiar and ancient to his mind. It was his DEA badge. “You're a badass. A girl could do worse.”

He took the badge from her hands and touched its shining surface. How proud he
'd been when he first earned it; he was still proud, he just wasn't proud of himself. He had run and left others to die, that wasn't what he'd been taught. That wasn't the way a man behaved.

“
You want it?”

She smiled and her teeth were white in the darkness, like a cheshire cat
's. “Yeah. But I'm going to need a gun. You and that white bitch…”

“
Her name is Julia,” he said with a hint of warning.

“
Julia, whatever. You guys don't think I should have a gun. No one thinks I should have a gun and that's just stupid. I gots to be able to defend myself.”

“
In the morning
I'll show you how to use one,” he left the words up in the air; a hint for her to go, but she just smiled more and snuggled deeper into the covers. “Ok. I guess,” he said to her. Just then he didn't think he had the capacity to fight even her.

She slept on him and snored loudly, and for some reason he found this reassuring. At daybreak he slipped out from her grasp and went down the stairs on
tiptoe, wrapping the pink parka around himself warmth. In the kitchen he found Julia sitting at the table with a cigarette burning in front of her. She was pale and disheveled. Tears had dried upon her face and she seemed to be in a daze, but as he stood there she began to blink as if her mind was just coming alive.

“
I would've killed you if it wasn't for that stupid coat,” she said with a sudden snort of laughter. “I thought you were a really ugly girl.”

“
Nope, just an ugly man.”

This caused her to look at Ram in earnest.
“You're not ugly.”

He felt ugly, if not on the outside then he certainly did on the inside.
“Are you going to smoke that?” he asked about the cigarette in order to change the subject. “Or just let it burn away?”

“
I don't smoke,” she said, turning to the grey wisps. “They were Mama's. From when I was a little kid that smell meant Mama was home. Oh how I used to hate it too. I was always on her about her damned cigarettes—
They're going to kill you some day
—I'd tell her. I guess I was wrong.”

“
I'm sorry,” Ram said. He had apologized a dozen times already, and still he didn't think that he could ever apologize enough. “I didn't even know their names. I only just met them.”

“
Cassie told me everything. Maybe too much. She tends to mix wishful thinking in with reality. Like the fact that you two are an item.” Ram's mouth dropped open and Julia smiled at it. “Oh yeah. You two are hot and heavy in one breath and in the next she admits she only just met you and didn't know your name until last night.”

“
She's been through a lot.”

Julia turned suddenly bitter,
“We all have. It's no excuse.”

Besides his own miserable life, excuses were all that Ram had left to him. Julia saw that she had wounded him with her words and she made a small fist of frustration and said,
“I don't blame you. I'm sure you didn't know what would happen.”

Ram felt his face begin to pull back again and he turned away, saying,
“That's what I keep telling myself, but it's a lie. I knew what kind of men those were, but I was weak. I'm sorry.” He wanted to say it again and again. And he wanted to say it to Cassie as well. He should've killed them when they were raping her.

“
Yeah,” Julia said in a breath. “Can you do me a favor? I need to bury Mama. Can you watch over me while I do it? It can be dangerous out there if you're attention's divided.”

It was the least he could do. Ram wrapped the woman in the sheet Julia gave him and carried her out to the back of the house where three fresh graves sa
t looking very sad. When he had laid the stiffening body down in the grass, Julia went to give him her shotgun, but he refused it, handing over his own pistol instead.

“
I'll dig. You can watch over me.”

He dug deep until his hands were blistered and Julia said it was enough. Then he left to stand away from her as she cried some more. Eventually she waved him over and he filled the grave around the body and then she asked in a choked voice,
“Can you dig another? Right there?” She pointed to a spot on the far left.

“
Who's it for?”

“
Me,” she said simply, and then with a smile she put his pistol to her head. “I'm sorry too.”

From the floor of the suburban kitchen Neil blinked up at a world that couldn't possibly exist. It was a world in which he was still alive. He had fainted when the robber turned-would-be-murderer had shot him with the giant shotgun, only there hadn't been an explosion as there should have been.

Instead there was only a clicking sound.

“What the fuck?” John said, turning the shotgun on its side and seeing that the port was open and empty. “You charge in here with an empty gun? You come to save a girl from zombies and you don't even check to see if the fucking thing is loaded?” John broke down laughing until he cried. “Oh what a fuckin Rambo you are,” he said still chuckling as he tugged out a pistol from his waistband. “I think I'm doing the world a favor by killing you. It's survival of the fittest out here and you're a genetic misfit that needs to be culled.”

With this he lowered the gun to point at Neil, who had done nothing but lay there cringing and feeling stupid. But Neil was saved for a moment longer when outside the heavy revving sound of the
monster truck could be heard: louder at first and then fainter. Sadie had driven away.

“
What the fuck!” John cried and raced from the room. “She's stealing my fucking truck!”

Neil sat up as John ranted, and when he did the .357 slid out onto the floor. John didn
't seem to notice it as he stormed back in and punched the refrigerator, sending gaily-colored magnets flying. Neil picked up the gun, thumbed the safety off and said. “Don't move. This one is loaded.”

John
's anger turned to surprise as he saw the gun, but he wasn't afraid of Neil. No one was afraid of Neil, not even when he held a gun in his hands. “You gonna shoot or what?” John asked. He was angled slightly away from Neil and his gun was at the floor.

“
I want you to drop your…” Neil began, but then John turned swift and agile and shot. An angry bee zipped past Neil's ear.

In a panic, Neil flinched, pulling his own trigger more by accident than design and John fell over clutching his throat as a gout of red sprayed the refrigerator.
“I'm sorry!” Neil cried coming to kneel over the man as he fell. Even as he said it, John went limp and ceased to breathe. “Oh I killed him. I killed him! I didn't mean it, I swear.”

He hugged himself feeling an urgent need to both vomit and evacuate his bowels and before he knew it, he was crying. It made no sense to him and really he didn
't try to make sense of it. Crying seemed the only thing to do just then and so he went with it, until eventually his tears ceased and he was forced back to the reality of his unreality. In this world a man didn't cry after shooting another man.

He went on with his life.

“I'm not a genetic misfit,” Neil said, running a sleeve across his face and trying to be tough. “Who's alive and who's dead? Huh?”

He went through the pockets of the dead man,
doing his best not to look him in the face, and came away with two clips for the gun that had fallen from his dead hand.

Figuring he was going to need every bullet and every gun, Neil took them all. The shotgun, though it was empty, he slung over his back and then he stood and stared around him, not knowing what he should do. The outside world was terrifying yet the little suburban home was no castle and offered scant protection.

What he needed was a ride. With light steps he went to the garage and was disappointed to see only a little Toyota Tercel parked there. After the monster truck, the Tercel looked like a toy car. Still it was better than hoofing it and so he scrounged around the house until he found some keys and then he was on the open road…except the street was blocked with cars and zombies.

Neil performed a very delicate K turn and drove toward the hole in the fence where he had parked the monster truck. That thing had been too big to fit in the gap but the Tercel slipped through neatly and then Neil was off with a sudden idea.

Sadie had left John for a reason, and what's more she hadn't narked on Neil concerning the hidden .357. Maybe she wasn't so bad. She was resourceful and very brave, qualities that Neil seemed to be lacking. Maybe she would let him take up with her.

This was his hope as he tracked her throughout central Jersey. It was easier than he could
've imagined. At the edge of the football field he saw fresh muddy tire tracks heading north on Garland Way. This street came to a four way stop and down the road to his right he saw a zombie that was near cut in half; it had been run over by something very large.

“
He-he!” Neil giggled and took the right. The next clue took longer to find. So many of the roads were blocked that he had to go to each and inspect them before turning around to go to the next. After twenty minutes he found what he was looking for.

A Porsche that had been a part of a pile-up had its rear crushed inexplicably. Neil banked over a low hill and across someone
's flower border and then paused to take in his choices: to the east and north, more houses. To the west a strip mall. He went west and found the monster truck. Sadie had used it to punch a hole in the wooden planks covering the front of a convenience store. Neil honked his horn, a light and friendly:
meep, meep
, and then parked behind the truck.

Before he could get out, however the truck coughed blue smoke all over the red Tercel and then began to back over him with a throaty roar. Neil screamed and dove out of the car just as the driver side was flattened.

“Oh it's you,” Sadie said, squinting down at him. He lay in a spatter of glass clutching himself and thanking God that his bladder hadn't let go. “I thought you were John.”

“
No. I'm me,” he replied, feeling tiny next to the great truck.

“
Why didn't he kill you?” she asked. “That's all he talked about.
I'm going to kill that bastard!
It got dull I tell you. Hey, look out behind you. There's a stiff right there.”

She seemed so relaxed that Neil was casual about turning and there was a zombie five feet away and rushing at him quickly. Another scream ripped out of his throat as he pulled the .357 and fired at point blank range. It was a
heavy-duty gun and the zombie fell to the ground with a gaping hole coming out the back of him.

Immediately it started to get up again and Sadie snorted,
“You have to shoot it in the head, dummy.”

“
Oh, I didn't know,” Neil said, taking aim at the creature struggling to get up. He pulled the trigger keeping his face turned partially away, yet still somehow managed to hit his target, sending grey-pink brains scattering across the parking lot. “That's gross,” he said feeling his stomach turn over.

“
Yeah, but they're zombies so what do you expect?”

They sort of just looked at each in a silence then. Neil because he had shot her friend and he didn
't know how to bring it up, and Sadie, because awkward silences didn't seem to faze her.

Finally Neil just blurted,
“I killed your friend, John. It wasn't really my fault, and he was going to kill me too. Honestly you could say he was hoist with his own petard...I just wanted to let you know.”

Sadie looked skeptical.
“Are you sure you killed him? You're not just saying that to impress me?”

“
I am sure,” Neil said, a little defensively. “It was like an old fashioned duel. He shot and missed and then I shot and didn't. I don't know what's so hard to understand. His body is back at that house, you can go see for yourself.”

She looked back the way she had come and then gave a half shrug.
“For your sake I hope he's dead. That guy had a mean streak in him a mile wide. It's why I left. He was bad news. That and he kept trying to, you know. He was always like,
Come on Baby. We have to procreate for the sake of the species
. What an asshole. I think the species is better off with him dead.”

“
Well he is dead,” Neil said again.

“
That's what you said.” She gave him an expectant look and then asked, “So are you just going to stand there all day? We got incoming stiffs.”

“
I can come with you?” he asked happily, climbing into the truck. She refused to budge out of the driver's seat and he had to basically climb over her, but since they were both small and trim it wasn't so bad—except for the fact that she kept her pistol trained on him as he did.

“
As long as we have an understanding,” she said, indicating the gun. “Like I told John, the only gun I want anywhere near me is this one. So make sure you keep your hands to yourself.”

Neil held his hands up to show how harmless he was.
“I respect your lifestyle choices. I'm a very modern man.”

“
When you say lifestyle, are you suggesting I'm a lesbian?” Clearly his look made it obvious and she rolled her eyes. “I'm not a lesbian. Wow, some modern man you are. I just don't want to have to play
that
game. If I like a guy, I'll let him know.”

“
Sorry,” Neil said, sheepishly. “I didn't mean to imply anything. And thanks for taking me on.”

“
It's ok. I don't like to be alone, which is strange because I used to be the ultimate loner. In High School, I was a junior by the way, anyway, I was the most closeted person. It probably was because I was all Goth and everyone thinks Goths are all, like freaks. But here we are and I have all the chance in the world to be alone and now I can't stand it.”

As she spoke she backed over the remains of the Tercel and was now tooling up a street, driving aimlessly.
“So how old are you,” she asked.

Neil got a twinge the way she said
old
. “I'm only thirty-four. So, do you know where you're going? Do you have a plan?”

“
You don't look thirty-four,” she said, giving him a long look. “You have a baby face. Anyone ever tell you that?” Many people had, almost all of them perspective women he had his eye on. He nodded, not wanting to continue on the subject and she let it go. “And I don't know where I'm going. This way, I guess.” She pointed down the road.

“
I think we should go west,” Neil said. “There are fewer people out there, which means fewer zombies. What do you think?”

She gave him a shrug and said,
“Sure. West it is. What did you mean earlier when you said John was a
petard
? What's that? Is that like a retard?”

He had to laugh and she smiled back showing straight white teeth.
“No, I said he was hoist with his own petard. It's from Hamlet.”

A groan ran from between her lips.
“Hamlet? That's Shakespeare isn't it? Well you can count me out. He puts me to sleep.”

This put the conversation on hold for a while and Sadie drove the great beast of a truck until they came to I-80 which was dreadfully clogged both ways and littered with soldiers, both dead and undead. They had to settle for a
zigzagging route, that reminded Neil of sailboat tacking into the wind. They'd go north till they found a good route west but when that clogged up they'd swing south until they found another. And so on.

Eventually gas became an issue. Neil emptied the last of the jerry cans into the tank while Sadie watched, blowing tremendous bubbles with her gum. This lasted
them a good thirty miles of back and forth, however by the time they found an open spot to gain access to I-80 they were getting low again.

Sadie pulled over at a tangle of cars and said,
“I'll keep watch while you go check em for gas. The hose is in the back.”

“
The hose? To siphon with? I don't know how to siphon gas. Do you?”

“
John always did it, but it can't be too hard. He was a petard remember?” She tried to be cute about it but Neil was nervous. When it came to direct hands on projects he was notorious for being mechanically inept.

Neil tossed down each of the jerry cans and then fished around beneath the mayhem in the back for the hose. With Sadie keeping watch, he went to each car and found a few with tanks that were nearly full.
“Here goes nothing.”

When it came to siphoning
, he only knew that he had to suck at one end of the hose while keeping the other end within the fuel, but after that…

After that came vomiting. The fuel wasn
't easy to bring up from the tank and when it did he sucked it right into his lungs. It was horrible beyond the telling and he choked and then began to vomit up the franks and beans he had for lunch. Sadie came over with a hunting rifle over one arm and a bottle of water.

“
You're not very good at that,” she commented, handing over the water.

“
Maybe you want to try it?” Neil groused, between hacking coughs.

“
You're the man here, not me.”

“
Yes I guess I am. Sorry, but this tastes horrible,” he said.