Zomb-Pocalypse (7 page)

“I saw them,” I mutter, probably sounding like a crazy person.

Ryan grabs hold of my hand and his touch is comforting.

“Who did you see?” He asks, his thumb stroking over my palm.

“My parents,” I manage to get out before I burst into tears.

Ryan pulls me back into his arms and lays back down, holding me gently while I sob into his neck.

“It was a nightmare,” He murmurs softly. His hand is stroking my hair.

Despite the tears, I yawn.

“You were thrashing around and crying in your sleep.”

His voice is so low and melodic that the rumble is putting me back to sleep. I’m exhausted and strung out and, suddenly, I just let it all go and give in to the overwhelming exhaustion.

I wake up warm and still wrapped up in Ryan’s arms. Everyone else is still sleeping, and I try to shrug out of his embrace. I’m embarrassed about the night before, but when I try and move his arms, they flex and hold on tighter. I glance up to find him looking down at me intently.

“Are you all right?” He asks in concern, his voice is all rumbly and deep from sleep.

My mouth goes dry, but I manage a quiet, “Yeah.”

He slowly releases me so I can sit up and crawl down the bed.

Abby is pressed up against me with Megan on her other side. Despite the nightmare that I can still remember vividly, I slept pretty well. I grab a bottle of water off the dresser and take a long drink.  Everyone else is starting to wake up too. Ryan stands up and stretches, disappearing into the bathroom for a minute before coming back dressed in new clothing—black jeans that seem to fit him a little better and a red checkered shirt that reminds me of a lumberjack. He stands near me and peeks out between the garbage bags that cover the window.

“Looks clear, but we won’t know for sure until we check all sides of the house,” he says, sounding vaguely hopeful.

We eat dry cereal in handfuls straight from the box, and I chew slowly to savor it. This might be the last time I get a chance to eat Corn Pops.

We gather up all the gear we found and pack it into bags and boxes by the door, ready to quickly move it into the suburban. Ryan tosses around the idea of pulling the car into the garage, but we all shoot it down. If we each take a box of canned goods and clothing, then we will be done. Ryan walks around the entire house and looks out each window.

“It seems clear,” He says again.

For a minute, I worry that he is trying to convince himself as much as he is us.  We all face the front door; our plan is to make sure the farmyard is really zombie-free and then haul asses to move the boxes.

“Here goes nothing,” Ryan says as he swings the front door open. I grip my golf club in my hand so hard that my knuckles turn white. The door opens wide, and we all gasp. Ryan takes a step closer. We huddle in behind him to look for ourselves.

“Is it a zombie?” Abby asks.

Ryan shakes his head, looking perplexed. “I don’t think so,” he says, reaching his booted foot out for a poke.

I stare down at the sweaty, pale mess passed out on the door step. My eyes move to the limp, dead bundle of feathers that he’s holding under one arm.”

“What’s he doing with that chicken?” Megan asks the question that we are all wondering.

Chapter Six

We huddle around the guy, not sure what to do. He’s out cold and he doesn’t look very healthy at all. A moan sends a chill down my spine, interrupting the quiet of the morning. At first, I think it’s coming from the guy on the step. Megan obviously does too, because she raises her gun quickly and aims it at his head. Ryan pushes the barrel away and points across the yard. We follow his line of sight and see that a zombie has gotten himself tangled up in the barb wire fence.

“It looks like there’s just the one,” Megan says, readjusting her aim.

“You’ll attract more of them if you fire that gun.”

I nod emphatically, agreeing with Ryan before I realize, with a start, that Ryan didn’t say it. I look down at my feet and see that the guy is awake. His skin is blanched white, and there’s a thin sheen of perspiration running down his face, but his bloodshot eyes seem alert.

All four of us take a giant step away from him, just in case. The zombie across the yard moans again, as if he wants all the attention for himself.

“Do you want me to take care of him?” I ask, surprising myself.

Ryan and Megan look surprised too.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Megan asks skeptically, and I shoot her an annoyed look.

“I don’t really have much choice these days do I?” I huff, grabbing the knife from Ryan’s outstretched hand. I turn and trudge towards the zombie. My heart is hammering like mad in my chest, but I don’t dare let my steps falter with Megan watching.

The closer I get, the more excited the moans of the zed seem to become. He is apparently thrilled that dinner has decided to come to him. I gag a bit as the rancid smell of his decomposing body hits me when I get within ten feet of him. The zombie is straining against the fence, trying to get free, but he’s held in place by his snagged clothing and skin. I wince when I see the barbs dug deeply along his torso, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. The zed is much taller than I thought he would be, and I’m starting to wonder exactly how I’m going to be able to spike him in the head. He’s a good foot and a half taller than me. His arms are reaching out for me, waving around like crazy.

I hear his shirt rip and the sound makes me jump. The zombie is in a frenzy now, pulling and straining. I know that I don’t have a lot of time. He could get free. It doesn’t seem likely, but since they don’t seem to feel any pain, there isn’t much stopping him from ripping himself in half to get to me. Black sludge is oozing from the ragged holes that have been torn in his skin by the wire, and I have to look away. I step closer and duck as one of his massive arms flail right at my head. I step back and look at the zombie again; there is no way I can get close enough to use the knife. I’m really regretting volunteering for this now. I was being a show off for Ryan, wanting to impress him. I know this now, and I hate myself for it.

I look around to see what else I can use, and my eye catches on a rusted old axe leaning against the side of the barn. I jog over, and the zombie starts making a ruckus because I’m getting away. The axe is heavier than I thought it would be. I heft it up over my shoulder, like a lumberjack, not bothering to look behind me at Ryan or Megan. I’m sure Megan has a smirk on her face.

I know that I could give up and admit defeat, Ryan would come over and knife this zed in the head till it’s dead…great, now I’m rhyming. I shake my head to clear my idiotic thoughts. I forcefully shut my annoying, inner monologue off and focus on the zombie problem. I’m not sure how I became a person who volunteers to kill something, much less something that used to be a living, breathing person, but I don’t want to examine it too closely.

I get just close enough that I should be able to reach the zombie with the long axe handle, without it being able to reach me, and I raise the axe over my head. I take a shaky breath before bringing it down with a disgusting smack. My swing is off because the axe is so heavy, and the curved blade imbeds in the creature’s collarbone by accident. I refuse to think of it as a person, not when I’m hitting it with an axe.

I try to pull the axe out, but I’m getting dangerously close to the swinging arms again. Thankfully, blood doesn’t spray out like I was expecting. Instead, the gross sludge starts leaking slowly from the wound. The zombie doesn’t seem to be affected by the horrible injury and keeps growling and swinging at me. The axe is yanked from my fingers as he unexpectedly jerks to the left. I take a step back just as he manages to tear away from the fence. The zombie starts towards me with his slow, uneven gait. I backpedal fast in blind panic and trip. I fall backwards and land hard on my butt. My teeth snap together and the air is knocked out of me, making my chest hurt. Even worse, the zombie is still coming after me.

He moves quicker than I expect. Within three rapid beats of my heart, he’s on top of me before I can scramble back. The smell of the rotting, putrid skin pressed up against my face would have me gagging if I wasn’t so busy fighting for my life. I can hear his jaws snapping like crazy. The axe handle that’s still protruding from his collar bone is digging painfully into my hip. He’s crushing my legs with the full force of his weight, and I’m forced to put my hands up on his shoulders in an attempt to buck him off, but it’s impossible. He’s huge and immovable.

I let out a ragged cry of terror; my brain is shutting down from fear. Somehow, my hand manages to grab around and find the knife that I tucked in my hoody pocket. I bring the knife up just as the monster opens his mouth and bares his chipped, ragged teeth. He snaps down on the blade and the momentum of his own body weight pushes the knife further into his skull. My arms tremble with the strain of trying to hold him up, but adrenaline has given me an added boost of strength.

I hear the horrible death rattle in his throat, and then he’s dead weight, unmovable and unmoving as he collapses on top of me. My arms bend under his weight, and I begin to scream in terror and buck harder.  Thankfully, he’s pulled off of me a second later. I scrabble to my feet, slipping in the gore, and see Ryan standing over me. He’s the one that pulled the zombie off me. He’s puffing and out of breath from running across the yard. Even though I’m covered from my boobs down in zombie viscera, he pulls me into a tight hug.

“Did you get bit?” his voice is filled with tension, and I have to do a mental check before I am able to truthfully shake my head.

“No,” I manage to get out before I burst into tears.

Ryan scoops me up in his arms and carries me, sobbing, into the house. I didn’t notice at first, but Abby had run over with him when the zombie got loose. She follows him back to the house.

“Take her upstairs and get her cleaned up,” he asks Abby, gently setting me down.

“Megan and I will take care of him,” he motions towards the guy still sitting on the porch.

My legs feel like they’re made out of jelly. Abby grabs my hand, despite the gore, and it makes me feel a bit more stable.

We go back up to the bedroom we stayed in the night before, and Abby leads me to the bathroom. I have no qualms about stripping down and getting underneath the icy cold blast of the shower this time. The water makes me feel like I want to jump out of my own skin, it torments me, like tiny pin pricks of ice driving into my naked, shivering body, but I don’t relent. I scrub myself from head to toe until I’m sore and pink. I’m tempted to find a bottle of bleach, but I limit myself to a fourth scrubbing instead.

Abby is waiting with a fluffy towel when I get out. She wraps me up and leads me over to the bed, shoving me under the covers to warm up. My teeth are chattering so hard I can’t even thank her. Abby sits down and rests her arm on me.

“I was so scared I was going to lose you Jane,” her voice sounds raw with emotion. She’s close to tears, which makes my own tears, still dangerously close to the surface, start to twinge.

“I can’t lose another person I love.”

Her words sober me even more. I don’t want to die, but who can predict who gets to live in this crazy world these days. I reach out and squeeze her hand, not saying anything more because I can’t make that promise.

I start to warm up a bit. When I finally stop shaking, Abby brings me some extra clothes from the closet. She gives me a bit of privacy, and I shimmy into the warm grey sweat pants, plain white t-shirt, and zip-up hoodie that she’s provided. So much for the mom jeans lasting me until we get to the lake.

I’m starting to perk up a bit by the time Abby and Megan pop their heads back into the room to check on me.

“You had us pretty worried,” Megan admits, and I know she probably feels bad for goading me earlier.

“I had myself pretty worried,” I admit to them. They both look grim as they remember how close I had come. 

“What’s going on with that guy?” I ask to change the subject, and Megan shakes her head.

“He’s sick or something. I guess he’s the son of the people we found. He’s been feeding dead chickens to that zombie you killed in the bedroom.” She shakes her head like she thinks he’s completely nuts.

I feel a prick of guilt. It might be crazy to keep your zombie father locked up and feed him chickens that you strangled yourself, but I can kind of see why someone might.

“He seems harmless enough, but Ryan is concerned about what’s making him sick,” Megan says, interrupting my dark thoughts.

“I want to go downstairs,” I say, pulling myself up from the bed.

Megan and Abby frown.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Abby asks, and I nod emphatically.

“I’m not sick, and I didn’t get hurt, just shook up,” I look her right in the eye to show that I’m fine. “Sitting in this room only makes me think about it more. I need something to do…maybe I can help that guy somehow.”

“Kyle,” Megan chimes in.

We both look at her blankly.

“His name is Kyle,” She explains.

“Alright, I want to go help Ryan and Kyle,” I rephrase.

“Jane and Ryan sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!” Megan starts singing. My jaw literally drops; I’m shocked that she would even say something like that in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

“Shut up.” I tell her, though I’m not really mad.

“He doesn’t look at either of us the way he looks at you,” Abby chimes in her own two cents.

“Now you’re on her side?” I demand, to cover up the fact that my face has turned pink.

 Abby grins, “Don’t worry, it’s cute.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, which is not really a lie. With everything going on, I haven’t thought much about Ryan in that way.

Abby and Megan grin, and I make a show of leaving the room in a huff, though really it’s kind of nice to revert back to something that was normal before all this madness started.

I enter the room, and Ryan looks up at me with concern on his face.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, making Megan and Abby giggle behind me. I blatantly ignore them, and Ryan, and head over to look at the guy curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around him. He’s white and shaking like a leaf.

“Are you the one that killed my Dad?” he asks around chattering teeth, and my stomach does a nervous flip. I hadn’t been expecting that question.

“Yes,” I admit after a minute of strained silence. I hold my breath, waiting for his anger.

He nods sadly, “Thanks.”

I blink, I definitely hadn’t been expecting that!

“I couldn’t do it…but I’m glad he isn’t suffering anymore.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I reach down and grasp his hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryan edging closer in concern. I look up at him and shake my head; the guy is pretty sick, I’m not sure what he could really do to me in this state.

“My name is Jane,” I tell him as I put a palm to his forehead, he’s burning up.

“K…Kyle,” he manages to get out around his shivering.

“Were you bitten?” I ask in concern. I’ve never seen anyone change, but it seems like suspicious timing to be this sick if it’s not connected.

Kyle shakes his head. “Not bitten, but Dad did scratch me yesterday.”

I nod like that’s perfectly natural but look at Ryan over his head. Ryan’s eyebrows are furrowed in concern, and he shrugs at me helplessly.

“Let me get you a cup of water,” I offer and slowly let go of Kyle’s hand, pulling the blanket up a bit more as I stand.

I walk over to where the rest of the group is sitting, and Abby holds up a bottle of hand sanitizer.

“Just in case,” she murmurs when I give her a look.

“Do you think he’s turning?” I ask, though none of us girls have ever seen anyone actually change before. All eyes turn to Ryan to see if he has any nuggets of wisdom on the subject.

Ryan looks grim. “It looks like it,” he confirms, and I feel so sad for Kyle.

“Are you sure?” I ask, not that I think he’s lying, but I just don’t want to believe it.

“Not completely,” he surprises us by admitting.

“I’ve seen people turn from bites before, but I don’t know if a scratch does the same thing. He is getting sick like the others did, but…I can’t be sure.”

“The news only warned about bites from the infected,” Abby agrees with him.

“I think he’s going to turn, and we will be at risk of getting bitten. We should leave,” Megan surprises me by saying.