Zombies in Paradise (Love in the Age of Zombies Book 2) (26 page)

“What did you find out?”

“The brain has to be destroyed. It doesn’t matter how. Nothing else will work. If a patient is put outside in the dead of winter before they turn, they die and stay dead. If a body has already turned, it’s not the same. We put zombies outside in the dead of winter. Several nights the temperature dropped below zero. They zombies quit moving entirely. They were solid blocks of ice, but when thawed out they started moving again.

“Didn’t you do lab work on them?”

“Limited lab work. A lot of people bled out from their injuries, and what blood was left drained out of the zombies over time along with all their other bodily fluids.” Kevin thought the image particularly gross.

“They have little blood left to sample. But the lab results showed exactly what you’d expect to find in a dead person, except there was a barely detectable fungal presence. But that likely was a saprophytic fungus taking quick advantage of the dead cells.

“Same with their urine. The CT scan showed nothing. The EEG showed no activity. They’re dead. But they’re moving. We’ve run out of ideas.”

Kevin pointedly drank his beer and stared into the glass of amber. Carolyn gazed at him. “You have an interesting look on your face. You look  .  .  .  pensive. Is it because of what you saw?”

“No, not really. I live with a doctor and a nurse practitioner. If they were here, this would be a much more interesting conversation because they would have intelligent suggestions and questions, while I’ve barely accepted this as reality. I don’t even know what questions to ask. I’m also worried about them. I’m anxious to get home. On my trip here I was attacked by unfriendly people. Without the Jeep I borrowed from Doc, I couldn’t have gone off road and escaped. I also was attacked several times by zombies. Those people and all the zombies are still out there. I miss my wife, I miss Doc, and I feel like I left them unprotected. My heart is  .  .  .  uneasy.” Carolyn continued to gaze at him. Had Kevin looked her in the eyes he would have seen a very flattering spark.

“Tell you what,” Carolyn said, “let’s finish our beers and go for a walk on the beach. I’m restless, too, and the lake always helps. You can tell me more about your trip and about your wife. It’s a pretty night. It’d do you good. Since you vacationed here, I’m sure you know how lovely the beach can be at night.”

Kevin agreed, ignoring the warning flags waving from his psyche. First she’d invited him home for a drink, now she was asking him to go for a walk on the beach.
How can a pretty, smart, interesting woman like her possibly be single?
he wondered. He thought back to his earlier conversation in the bar, where he was told women outnumbered the men in Frankfort.
So she’s a little lonely. She wants some male companionship. That doesn’t mean something has to happen
, he concluded as Carolyn finished her beer. On their way out they waved to Brian, who was now behind the bar. No money exchanged hands, of course. Kevin assumed there was a barter tab for regulars.

As they headed toward the Frankfort beach, they engaged in light conversation. Of course the topic of life before the Collapse came up, and what they missed the most about the old life. “Like M&Ms,” Carolyn said.

“And March Madness,” Kevin chimed in as they reached the turnaround where Main Street dead-ends onto Lake Michigan Beach. He saw figures silhouetted against a beach fire near the water’s edge and heard the sound of young men and women laughing and talking. Kevin and Carolyn sat on one of the sidewalk benches overlooking the lighthouse bay and took off their shoes. Carolyn rolled her jeans to mid-calf. Once again they started walking together, this time through the sand, and once again she took his hand in hers. Kevin felt a strange sort of unease but didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so instead he tried to lighten the mood.

“Hey, Carolyn, did you know that early on, scientists learned that zombies won’t eat clowns. They finally figured out the reason.”

“Really? Why don’t zombies eat clowns?!”

“Because they taste funny!” Carolyn laughed and Kevin went on; “What did the zombie eat at the restaurant?”

“I don’t know, what did the zombie eat at the restaurant?”

“The waiter! Why didn’t any humans survive the zombie Halloween costume party?”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

“Because every zombie was a goblin’! How can you tell your in-laws are zombies? They say they want to have you for dinner!” Kevin laughed at his own jokes while Carolyn groaned with a smile.

“Those are some really bad jokes, Kevin.”

“Want to hear more? What’s a zombie’s favorite appetizer?”

“Kevin. Please. You’re killing me.”

“Finger food!
Hahaha!
” Kevin laughed. “What’s a zombie’s second favorite appetizer? Chips and human bean dip!
Hah!”

Carolyn actually laughed at that one. It felt almost normal to be laughing with someone. A moment later, Kevin smelled marijuana smoke.

“Kids come to the beach to party, eh?” he asked absently.

“Haven’t they always?”

“Yeah, but they’re obviously smoking marijuana. You seemed against it earlier.”

“I’m not against anyone using marijuana within limits. Lord knows I smoked my share. My parents knew what I was up to, and they encouraged me to be careful, but they didn’t forbid me from doing anything. They told me over and over, you’ll get in a lot more trouble lying to us than anything else. Tell us the truth. We can deal with it. But if you break our trust, you’ll never get it back. So I didn’t lie to them,” she said, then confessed, “except maybe once or twice. I don’t begrudge these kids wanting to feel good. Especially now. Life is more tenuous than ever. Grab all the pleasure you can while you’re able.”

Kevin wondered if she was still just talking about the kids. They walked along in silence, still holding hands. “The thing is,” she said a bit more quietly, “I’m not eighteen or twenty any more. I don’t come to the beach to party with my friends. My circle of friends has grown quite small. Even before the grid went down, I was feeling isolated.” They walked over to a bench midway up the beach and sat down without exchanging another word. After a moment he heard her sigh. The moon was rising behind them and there was very little light, but Kevin could tell she was staring out over the water.

“It’s only gotten worse. A lot of my friends don’t live here. I’ll never see them again, even if they survived. My parents retired to Florida, tired of the Benzie County winters. I’ll never see them again. I miss them terribly.” She turned to look at him. He couldn’t see much detail in the dim light but her vocal tone and body language suggested vulnerability. “You know, I like myself. I take care of my body, I’m educated, I have a wide variety of tastes and a good sense of humor. I think I’m a good friend. And yet  .  .  . ” she paused, longer this time. “I’m alone. I don’t have a boyfriend. Heh, or a girlfriend for that matter. I’m lonely. I don’t like being alone.” She reached over, and, placing her hands around his neck, pulled him down. He felt her warm lips against his, felt her tongue hesitatingly part their lips and tentatively explore. She had that certain scent men only smell on women, a refreshing, clean, seductive scent that fills a man’s head with possibility. For a split second Kevin indulged himself in the sensuality of the moment, then slowly pushed her away. He found he was breathing deeply and was getting hard. Sometimes having a libido was a curse.

“Mmmm, that was nice,” he said, “and I would love to keep going. But I can’t. I wish I could. I think you’re right about everything you said about yourself, and I’d add this: You’re beautiful, easy to be around, and know how to make a man feel appreciated.

“Especially in bed,” she added with a sly smile. Kevin ignored her.

“I wish I could be that man. I really, really do! But then I wouldn’t be the man Michelle loves. I can’t break that trust, just like you couldn’t break the trust your parents had. But thank you. I’m honored. You are quite a prize. Hold on to that belief.” She leaned her head against his shoulder and they sat in silence, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and murmuring against the sand, offset by the sound of the kids around the fire, laughing and talking. Someone brought an acoustic guitar and was doing a bad job of playing the old Irish pub song
Beer, Beer, Beer
.

“You know,” she said, her head still leaning against his shoulder, “for a few minutes I’m going to pretend we’re a couple, I’m going to relax and be happy in my boyfriend’s arms.” And with that she snuggled a tad more closely. And so they sat, comfortable and quiet for a time. Carolyn looked at the beach fire and remembered when she was one of the young girls down there, living in the moment without deep regrets, most of her life ahead of her.
Hold on to your youth
, she thought,
you won’t even know how great it is until it’s too late.

Meanwhile, Kevin thought about how nice it would be to have Michelle’s head resting on his shoulder. The moon had climbed higher overhead and Kevin began to discern shapes and shadows on the beach. In muted gray undertones broken by the flickering of the fire, Kevin could make out the lighthouse and see the spray of water when a large wave broke upon the breakwater. He could make out the foam of the surf as it broke upon the beach. He felt an incredible ache to be with Michelle. She would make an already beautiful experience even more luminous. He wanted to experience this with her. In his mind, Kevin wrote a poem, which he would later put in his journal:

Michigan Moonlight

I want to wade together, 

into the barely warm 

September water of Lake Michigan

her naked breasts bathed in full moonlight

She will join me in my lunar addiction.

she will plead cajole beg me

for a skinny dipping moonshine kiss 

in the quiet gray shadows cast by reflection

cool night air whispering over her nipples

shades of midnight plum

She has a beautifully dark moonlit secret.

His thoughts shifted back in time. If his memory was accurate, he and Tammy sat on this bench when they were young lovers. After several minutes, he broke the silence. “Twelve years ago, my infant son died of SIDS. Ten years ago my wife died of cancer. At some point the theory of quantum realities caught my attention. You know what that is?”

Pulled out of her comfortable reverie, Carolyn tried to clear her head. “Everything that can happen does happen and is happening, we’re just seeing our part.”

“That’s it exactly! I found comfort in the idea that there is a reality where my son and my wife didn’t die. Believing there are versions of reality where I lost them both, but also versions of reality where they lived. I just happen to be in the reality where they died. I choose to believe that in some other reality, Tammy and Jason are still alive and we’re happy. Traveling down that same path, it’s not a stretch to believe that in some quantum universe you and I met a long time ago, fell in love and made a life together and just so happen to be sitting on this bench tonight. You grew up here. I vacationed here. We probably crossed paths a few times. It could have happened. We’re probably together in one of those other universes. I’ll bet we have a good life.”

Carolyn smiled sadly and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man, Kevin. I think that’s the nicest let-down I’ve ever had in my life.” They sat quietly for another moment, then Carolyn sat up. “The sound of the waves always relaxes me. I’m getting sleepy. Walk me home?”

“Sure,” Kevin said, rising to his feet. They walked through the sand back to where they’d left their shoes and socks, put them on and walked up Main Street. Carolyn once again took his arm.

As they walked past the guest house, Kevin said “Didn’t you say the guest house was on your way home?”

“It all depends on how you define
on your way home,
” she said with a smile. “You don’t know Frankfort the way I do.”

“Frankfort native, eh?”

“Yep. Born and bred right here in Benzie County.”

“Benzie County Huskie, eh? Cheer Huskies red and white, and prove our colors are so proud and right?”

“Yes, but how in the hell do you know the Huskies anthem? I barely know it myself!”

“I had too much time on my hands at work back in the old days. What happened after high-school? Where did you go to pharmacy school?”

“Michigan State.”

“So you went to the big city. You could have stayed in East Lansing and probably made a lot more money and started a new life. What brought you back to Frankfort?”

“I didn’t care for city life. I was used to having plenty of wide-open space and a fresh breeze off the lake. In East Lansing I was surrounded by buildings and traffic, and the breeze didn’t feel the same. I had some good times there as a student and made friends I kept up with until the end of everything. I didn’t dislike it. I just liked northern Michigan more. After I graduated, I worked in Traverse City for a few years and was offered the position here when the job came open.” Carolyn reached down and took Kevin’s hand in hers. After making a few turns and making a bit more small talk, they ended up on the porch of her home.

“Thanks, Carolyn. You made me feel more welcome than I possibly could have otherwise. And thanks for showing me around the hospital and introducing me to Dr. Nunn.”

“I enjoyed it too. But it’s not too late, you know. The invitation’s still open for that glass of wine.”

Kevin leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips. “Goodnight, Carolyn. Thanks again. I hope to be back in Frankfort soon. I’ll introduce you to Michelle.” Putting his hands in his pockets, he turned and walked back up her sidewalk.

“Hey, Kevin!” she called after him as he walked away, “What’s a zombie’s favorite drink?”

“I don’t know, what is a zombie’s favorite drink?!”

“A White Zombie of course! Goodnight!” She laughed and closed the door.

With Michelle in his thoughts, Kevin hurried quickly through the night back to the guest house. Once inside the door, he saw an LED solar light illuminating the front desk. A poster taped to the counter said
Welcome to the Frankfort Guest House. Please sign the guest list. There is no attendant after hours. Behind the desk is a numbered key rack. If a room is available, the key will be hanging on the nail in front of the number. Rooms 1-3 are downstairs, rooms 4-7 are up the staircase behind the desk. Sheets, blankets, and pillows are freshly washed. A bathroom is on every floor, but there is no hot water. No smoking of any kind is allowed inside at any time. Solar lanterns are on the shelf to your right. Please take one with you to your room, but do not forget to return it. There is no food or drink stocked in the kitchen other than water. We hope you enjoy your stay. God bless us all.

Somebody had crossed out the last line.

Kevin grabbed a lantern from the shelf, pulled the key to an empty room from the key rack, and headed up the stairs. He could faintly hear the sound of snoring from one of the downstairs rooms. Room number four was the second door to the right at the top of the stairs. It was sparsely furnished—a twin bed, a single wooden chair, a small dresser with a single juice glass turned upside down atop a folded white towel, and a very small sink with an oval mirror over it.

Kevin took off his shirt and unbuckled his pants. Heavy with the Petoskey stone he still carried in his pocket, they fell to the floor with a
thump!
He got in bed, wishing he’d brought another change of clothes. The clothes he’d started the day wearing were on the beach outside the gray house, covered in zombie brains. He was wearing his spare set. But even if he’d brought another change of clothes, once he saw Lee on the beach he had forgotten all about his backpack. It was still in the canoe. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, worried that it might be a sleepless night. The next time he moved, it was light outside. He’d slept for hours.

Chapter Twenty-two

Kevin quickly dressed and left his room, foregoing a cold shower. He returned the key to the rack and put the solar lantern back on the shelf. As he headed toward the Frankfort Marina, the aroma from nearby Crescent Bakery again caught his attention. He once again wished he’d brought the case of whiskey to barter with, but it was in the Jeep miles away.

When he got to the dock, he saw Tony, the guy who helped him ashore when he came over with Jake and Lee, walking along the wharf. He waved and Tony greeted him with a smile. “Hey, Calvin!” Kevin didn’t bother to correct him. “What brings you around so early?”

“It’s time to head back to Ann Arbor,” Kevin replied. “But I left my canoe on the beach near Jake’s house. How can I get across the bay?”

“We can find someone to take you, or you can wait for Jake and Lee to come back over. I don’t know when they’ll be here next. And I don’t know anyone who’s headed to Elberta. But I’ll tell you what, you can rent one of the marina canoes if you want. Just tie it up next to Jake’s boat. I’ll start a tab for you.” Kevin agreed, and moments later was paddling a small aluminum canoe with
Frankfort Municipal Marina
stenciled on the side. Once Kevin paddled away from the dock, a cool wind picked up, but the paddling action soon warmed him. He reached the other side without incident and secured the boat next to Jake’s, as instructed. He walked along the short waterfront, scrambled over the south breakwater, and walked briskly along the beach. He was anxious to get the journey underway. He was ready to be back home.

He spied his canoe not far up the beach. Getting closer, he noticed a small package sitting on the canoe bench. A tag read
Good luck, Kevin! –Jake and Lee
. He was delighted to find a small amount of cured ham, some ripe cherry tomatoes, a few dried apple slices and a small brownie. He wolfed everything down, launched the canoe and jumped in. As he shoved off with the paddles and adjusted his position, he glanced back at the beach. Lee was on the staircase near the bottom on one of the platforms. She waved at him and as he watched, she unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. She stood there, topless, smiling broadly as she waved the blouse enthusiastically over her head. Kevin grinned and waved back, then began paddling south. He felt elated. He was on his way home, Frankfort had a hospital, Lee gave him a wonderful send off, and by dusk he’d have Michelle in his arms.

Twenty minutes later, Kevin’s thinking started getting hazy. He was trying to plan his route home when suddenly he lost his train of thought. He became more aware of his surroundings; the sound of the paddle in the water, the sound of the canoe as it traversed the waves, the feel of the wind against his cheeks and scalp. Colors seemed more vivid, and with a slow stoned dawning of realization Kevin thought,
I’ll be damned, she spiked my brownie!

He thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the trip. He decided to stop at the gray house to get his bike, then paddle to the outlet and into Lower Menekaunee lake. The sun felt good, the wind was refreshing, and with every dip of the paddle he felt that much closer to Michelle. He paddled through the shoreline waters of Lake Michigan, luxuriating in the beauty of the springtime coast, with a big stoned smile on his face. He was headed home with good news.

He had a brief moment of guilt about the time spent with Carolyn, but he thought back and felt absolved. He hadn’t instigated anything. She’d kissed
him
. She’d taken
his
arm. She’d taken
his
hand. He had turned her down, but hoped she felt affirmed and attractive, despite his rejection.

His memory of sitting with her on the bench looking out over a darkened Lake Michigan, and what
could
have transpired, distracted him with salacious thoughts, and for a while his mind wandered aimlessly down the path of sexual reverie as he paddled on. His thoughts morphed and evaporated even as they were born. In his slightly altered state of mind, he nearly passed the gray house. He beached the canoe and stumbled as he clambered ashore. He was feeling more altered by the minute.

He took a look at the house as soon as he’d pulled the canoe higher on the beach. Nothing looked any different than when he’d left. He turned the canoe over to drain for a few seconds, then walked to the house. It was quiet. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, but realized his mind wasn’t as sharp as it should be. That made him paranoid and he kept looking over his shoulder to make sure nothing was sneaking up on him. He pulled up the garage door and instantly flinched back.
A zombie!

But no, it was an only an arrangement of oars and paddles leaning against the wall.
Geez!
Kevin scolded himself,
Don’t do that to me!
His bike was untouched where he had left it. He wheeled out of the garage, lowered the door, and headed back to the beach. He hefted the bike into the canoe and shoved off. The trip to the outlet was a compendium of sensations only experienced when paddling a canoe on an empty lake in the spring sun, keeping an eye on the beach for flesh-eating zombies, after having eaten a spiked brownie. But by the time he got to the outlet, his altered state had begun to wane. He could only feel traces of it in the corners of his mind.

He paddled up the small stream and into the lake, then headed to the southwest shore of the lake, close to where he’d left the Jeep. He saw no evidence of zombies or any other animal except for a red fox which stared at Kevin for a moment, then turned and trotted away. He beached the canoe and grabbed his pack, then pulled out his bike and hopped on.

He rode around the cottage known as the Millhouse, anxious to get to the Jeep.
And there it is
, he thought with relief,
exactly where I left it
. He reached on top of the front tire to grab the keys and momentarily panicked when he couldn’t find them. But there they were, right where they were supposed to be. He unlocked the hatch, jostled things around enough to fit the bike, hopped inside and started the engine. It roared to life instantly.

Kevin made a three-point turn and headed home. He drove past the overlook, through Arcadia, and past Portage Lake, dodging an occasional zombie in the road. It was a beautiful day, but he wasn’t able to appreciate it. His mind was on the beauty waiting for him a few hours ahead, not on the picturesque landscape outside his windshield.

As the seemingly deserted landscape of rural Michigan slipped by, Kevin wished he had a thermos of strong coffee; his activities and experiences over the past few days had left him feeling cold and spent. Now that he was sitting still, his weariness settled upon him like a cat settles in a warm lap. He drove on, making an effort to stay alert for zombies, mercenary traps, road washouts, fallen trees and all the usual threats to his safety. He struggled to keep his eyes open. Twice on long open stretches of road he jerked awake as his eyes grew heavy and the Jeep drifted onto the gravel shoulder.

Chapter Twenty-Three

After several hours of fighting a losing battle with malaise, he admitted something was wrong. He wasn’t just tired. He was getting chills and his thoughts were taking on a dreamlike quality.
Either this is the brownie coming on again or I’m getting sick!
he admitted,
and I don’t think it’s the brownie. If I can just make it another three hours I’ll be home.
But every mile he felt worse. His muscles began to ache, and his chills alternated with hot flashes. Holding the steering wheel became more difficult as his arms felt increasingly heavy. At the top of a low rise he slowed to a stop, checked the terrain, then got out of the Jeep and pulled a blanket out of the back. He wrapped the blanket around himself as he got back in the cab and turned the heater on. Despite the blanket and the ample heat, his teeth begin to chatter.
I’m freezing!
he thought. The cab thermometer on the dash read 75 degrees.
I feel awful,
he thought.