Read Zombies! Rising from the Dead Online
Authors: Richard Palmer
For as much as I loved the simple things and the outdoors, I was also a person who loved
the finest in modern technology. Not only was it reflected in my home but also in my line of
work. Speaking of...I worked thirty miles away in the city of Panatauk. Panatauk is...
was
a city
still rural by any measure, but large enough to have a shopping mall and several big name
department stores. I worked for one of the largest electronics stores in the
country;
we sold
brand name electronics and offered a variety of over-priced services for those that could afford
it, from installation to repair we did it all.
My job was low paying with no benefits, but it was relatively easy and undemanding
although it could be annoying at times. My role as it had been for the past five years was that of
sales operator which was basically nothing more than a glorified receptionist. I fielded all the
calls that came into the store and I was the first line of
defense when anyone called with a
problem or “
wanted to speak to the manager...
”
.
Ninety percent of my job was handling complaints and fixing someone else's screw-ups.
The other ten percent was surfing the internet and that aspect of it wasn't particularly bad. I had
my
own desk, or more appropriately my own cubicle, so I had some measure of privacy. I
didn't have to go out unnecessarily and deal with people, which is more than I could say for the
unlucky sales floor associates. Nope
, I’d
just stay in my little office and pretend as though I
was doing something useful or time consuming until something came along that demanded my
attention.
After years of dealing with the public I truly began to hate people. It sounds harsh, but
those of you in retail or any other type of public service can certainly relate, you see humanity
in all its selfish greed, and these days I try to avoid people when at all possible. I think this is
why I so seldom go out and spend as much time as I do hidden within the confines of my little
f
ortress of solitude. Outgoing people would consider me a hermit, a recluse, possibly eccentric;
but only the rich are eccentric, the poor are simply crazy,
thus
I must be crazy. A doctor or
psychologist might diagnose me with some form of phobia, derangement or paranoia—but
that's a diagnosis I'm perfectly okay with, people leave me alone and I leave them alone.
I have a few friends but only a couple I would consider close, Rick, a swarthy man
standing about 6'6 and weighing just over three hundred pounds, bulbous with a large rotund
gut. He was a behemoth of a man and a formidable sight. He talked with a heavy country
drawl, with greasy jet black hair that was slightly thinning on top. Remembering many of those
Old
Italian mobster movies he looked every bit the part of a wise
guy, someone that could have
you snuffed out with the nod of this head. He could appear very intimidating to someone that
didn't know him, but I did know him and the secret was that he was actually quite harmless.
Rick and I were similar and yet different in opinions and attitude. We shared a common
interest in movies, video games and political opinions. More importantly than that is we both
share the same disdain for people in all their diluted ignorance. A disdain coming from no one
particular
incident, just a culmination of life experiences that had left us unblinded to the truth.
People use the term “
grizzled
” when referring to old men; old men who have lived too
long and seen too much
becoming
bitter at the world for perceived injustices, but in truth
perhaps those perceptions are not as off the mark as one might think. At almost
forty years of
age both Rick and I were quickly getting to that point in our lives. We were beginning to
understand these old men more and more
every day
and young people less and less. I perhaps
understood a little better, after two failed marriages and burying most of my family to cancer I
was starting to get bitter. Rick wasn't much better being constantly surrounded by the cascade
of sick and dying loved ones and watching the endless conveyor of divorce around him. We
were getting to that point where we didn't have too many things to say and much of what we
did
have to say was pessimistic and vile. Others coming to us seeking advice and
encouragement often found themselves looking too hard and too long only to find nothing, and
yet in this mutual hatred for humanity we found friendship.
I met Rick when I moved into town back in the fifth grade. How we became friends
still surprises me.
Waiting in line one day in the cafeteria he asked to borrow a nickel. Of course a nickel is
nothing; but to a ten year old kid in the fifth grade it was a great deal,
especially
in those days. I
lent him the nickel despite the warnings of others. He gave me his word he would surely pay it
back within a day or two; well
that
day quickly came and went, as well as the next day and the
next. Weeks went by with nothing, not a word, well nothing except excuse after excuse.
We were at recess a few weeks later on a particularly sweltering afternoon. We were on
the playground and the hot sand was radiating the heat right back up into our faces. I didn't
have a lot of money for a drink, by chance I noticed Rick at the soda machine getting a coke
and I walked up to him and asked him for that nickel he had borrowed so many weeks ago, that
nickel would have put me just over the top so I could get something to drink. His reply was
swift and impartial
“I don't have it, I don't have it...I will pay you back next week
”
by
this
point I had had enough of his lies and lost my temper. I punched him in the gut and then placed
him firmly in a headlock throwing him to the ground, as he fell he lost his grip and a handful of
shiny coins came spilling out of his hand. I scooped up my nickel and walked away, adrenaline
still rushing from the experience. It was a long time after that we ever spoke again, I avoided
him and he avoided me.
It was very coincidental that once I finally started attending church later that summer I
found out that Rick attended there as well. Perhaps that is how we became friends in the long
run. It certainly wasn't long after that I recall sitting on the steps of the church after Sunday
school playing games and comparing the
n
umber of my toys against his, with the episode at
school long since fading into memory; in this single respect children have a uniqueness all their
own, that being the capacity to forgive and forget.
Rick and I, as well as a few others formed our own niche' in school. Our little troop
endured through middle school on into high school and eventually beyond. After high school
many classmates moved on to start their own lives and own endeavors, the once strong bonds
of friendship becoming lose, frayed and finally fading away which often does happen in the
course of life. Sometimes though, in rare cases friendships endure, and such was the case with
Rick and I, and we remain close friends even to this very day. Over the years we moved from
place to place one never far behind the other, in college we were even in the same frat house
together. In all the long years no matter what the adventure it was Rick who was always there
to share the ride.
Many years later we both eventually ended up back in Barkley. As the old saying goes
“there's no place like home”
and the one place we struggled to get away from for so very long
we discovered wasn't so bad after all. Rick moved into the family home which had been
willed to him after his parents passed. I moved into my current home a few miles down the
road. He worked at the local paper mill and I took up my job in Panatauk.
Now years later as it would happen we met up with Frankie
by
sheer happenstance. You
see, both Rick and I were big Gamers and there was a video game store in Panatauk called the
Game Pad. We often frequented there and Frankie was the owner. Going in from time to time
and checking out all the latest new releases or seeking game info we would always find Frankie
there behind the counter. We would stop and talk with him in passing, discussing upcoming
games, the latest movies or newest trends in home theater. Over the course of a few months a
friendship quickly emerged and Frankie began to hang out with us more and more often. In
some ways Frankie and I were more alike having had similar life experiences.
Both Frankie and I had been married...repeatedly, and rather unsuccessful at it. We
talked at length about the pitfalls of marriage and relationships. Frankie was more akin to me in
appearance as well, standing only an inch or two taller than me at 5'6, but a bit heavier. He also
sported a thinning hair line and the slightest hint of a lightly colored beard.
Things went on
normally;
everyone just lived their lives as
people do.
Work, dating,
bills, bitches, breakups
; just
life, nothing more nothing less.
We would get together once every few weeks, the three of us, and just hang out. We’d
watch movies
and
maybe have a few beers, fully expecting this lifestyle to go on uninterrupted and
a
fter all why shouldn't it?
It was a good life, and I am grateful for every moment of it.
Then just as abruptly
everything was turned upside down. The things we understood and had come to expect from
our world came crashing down around us.
Chapter Two:
Something Goes Amiss
I won’t forget the day it happened, I remember it so clearly. Looking back I had no idea what
was happening even as we enjoyed a lazy afternoon.
It was a warm, dry summer day at the end of May. I was thrilled because it had finally
stopped raining the day before and warmed up. I hated the rain and the cold, damp air. I had a
problem with stress as it was, and cold dreary weather only made it worse. But I was very
happy on this particular day because it looked as though something we had planned on for
several weeks now was finally going to work out.