Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter One

  I’m being smothered—held down beneath a pile of limbs. Their weight makes it difficult to breath and I start to hyperventilate. I flail, but it just makes them hold on tighter.

  “Silas!” I scream in terror as I’m being shaken and jostled around. I bite my tongue, and the taste of blood in my mouth amps up the fear. My elbow connects with soft flesh and I hear a groan, so close I feel breath puff against my ear...

  “Jane!” I hear a voice, but it sounds so far away—too far away to save me.

  “Help!” I scream, still kicking and swinging, expecting to feel the bites at any moment.

  “Honey, please wake up.” The voice finally registers, and it’s my mom. I blink and open my eyes, but the room is just as black as the inside of my eyelids.

  “Mom?” I ask in a small voice.

  “Yes, Jane. It’s me. You’re dreaming,” she assures me, and I can hear the stress in her voice. I hear rustling and then a flashlight is switched on, and I blink. Dad is sitting beside me as well, though his back is turned towards me, which is kind of odd.

  “Dad?” I ask hesitantly, and he turns towards me with his hand covering his nose.

  “Yeah, hon. I’m here too.” His voice sounds nasally, but he gives me a smile and I relax. My heart is still pounding, but it’s starting to slow down now that I’m awake and realize it was all just a dream. My body is drenched in sweat and I kick the covers off. My damp skin meets the nippy fall air, and I shiver, pulling the blanket back up to cover myself.

  “You were having a nightmare,” my mother says, and it’s not a question. I’ve had them the last few nights, and I know she is getting concerned. I nod, not really wanting to talk about it.

  “You called out for that boy,” Dad tells me, pressing a handkerchief to his nose, and I frown.

  “Ryan?” I ask, though I have a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t who I cried out for to protect me.

  “The other one,” Mom says, her lips pursed, “the scary one.” I laugh at that, I can’t help it.

  “Silas is not scary,” I tell her, and she shrugs, holding on to her opinion.

  “What happened to your nose?” I ask my dad when he pulls the handkerchief away and I see the trickle of blood.

  “It’s nothing,” he assures me, but I keep staring at him until he cracks. “You elbowed me in the face when you were dreaming,” he admits, and I’m horrified.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad!” I gush, leaning forward to see if he’s okay.

  “I’ll be fine,” he assures me. “I just need to learn to keep my nose away from you when you’re flailing around like that,” he jokes, and I give him a small smile. The taste of copper in my mouth reminds me that my dad isn’t the only one with an injury from my nightmare, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t need to give my parents any more cause to worry than they already have.

  This might be weird for a sixteen-year-old, but I’ve been sleeping with my parents for the last three nights, ever since I found them. They refuse to let me go, and I’m really not in that much of a hurry either—space is pretty limited here at the cabin, especially with all the extra people. I’ve been sleeping in the middle like I did when I was a little girl and had nightmares about clowns chasing me. I guess it’s fitting since we are all living in a nightmare now.

  “Where are you going?” Mom demands when I try to extract myself from the bed. Dad looks around the room, his hand going beneath his pillow to grip the knife that I know he keeps there. It’s so weird to see him with his black, bushy beard, toting around a knife.

  “Just the bathroom,” I tell them, knowing that Mom wants nothing more than to trail me across the cabin to make sure I get there safe. “I’m fine, Mom,” I tell her, trying to calm her nerves. It’s been three days and we haven’t seen a single zombie this high up the mountain—besides, I’m just walking across a locked house.

  My dad puts a calming hand on her arm, and she gives him a look that is filled with fear. “She’ll be alright,” he assures her, and my mom lets out a huge sigh. “Why don’t you take a look at my nose while she’s gone?” he suggests, and Mom nods grudgingly, already poking at his handkerchief. My dad turns to me and winks. “If you aren’t back in five minutes, I won’t be able to hold her back,” he teases, and I give him a thankful look as I leave the room. He isn’t joking.

  I rush through the house, and a shiver runs through my body. It’s so cold now, especially at night. It isn’t so bad tucked into bed underneath all the blankets, but the main area of the house is freezing. I wish I’d thought to grab my coat. I consider going back for it but change my mind. I have limited time alone and I don’t want to waste it.

  The bathroom is pitch black; there isn’t even a window to let in a bit of moonlight. I set my flashlight on the counter. It illuminates my face in a super creepy way as I gaze at myself in the mirror. We don’t have heat or electricity, but the cabin does have its own well, so at least we still have indoor plumbing. I stick my tongue out to examine it, but it isn’t bad enough to even see in the dim light, so I rinse my mouth and get on with my life. The toilet seat is so cold that I actually gasp when my butt hits it. Sixteen is too young for hemorrhoids—I hope.

  I hear a soft knock at the door, just as I’m washing my hands, and I bite back an annoyed sigh. I love my parents, but that wasn’t even five minutes! I understand where they’re coming from; they don’t want to let me out of their sight. I’m sure that is a perfectly normal response after losing your kid in the zombie apocalypse, but they’re smothering me.

  “Mom—” I sigh as I open the door and come face to face with Abby instead. “Sorry,” I tell her. “I thought you were my mo…” I trail off, not really wanting to say the “M” word to my best friend, who lost both of her parents recently. She gives me a small smile that is strained around the edges.

  “Hey,” she says, pretending not to notice my slipup. I motion to the bathroom behind me, feeling awkward.

  “It’s all yours,” I say unnecessarily as I step out of her way, and she goes in, quietly shutting the door behind her.

  I stare at the door for a minute with my lips pursed. I am so grateful she made it. If the world had to go to hell, at least we can be together…but we aren’t all together. Abby’s parents were torn apart that first day, and having my parent’s turn up, both alive and well, has sort of driven a wedge between us. It’s nothing she’s said, but we’ve been friends since we were toddlers. I can tell she’s struggling to be happy for me. I don’t blame her though; I would feel the exact same way if our roles were reversed. I put my hand on the door between us and wish I’d hugged her or something. I promise myself I will do it tomorrow, and then I hustle off to bed.

  My mother is pacing when I get back. She pounces on me and wraps me in a great big hug. “I never want to let you go baby girl,” she mutters. Despite how annoying it is, I smile and hug her back. Mom was always warm and loving before, but the zombie apocalypse has driven her to extremes.

  “I know, Mom,” I tell her dryly, and Dad chuckles. I crawl into bed and both of my parents wrap their arms around me. I know the way they are acting towards me is only making things worse for Abby. My mom mothers her too, makes sure she eats, asks h
er how she’s doing… Heck, she even tried getting her to sleep in this room with us, but Abby politely turned her down and chose to bunk with Megan and Sunny in her old bedroom. I close my eyes and listen to my parents fidget. The weight of their arms reminds me of my nightmare…

  I make it through the night without dreaming, or busting my dad’s nose again. I wake up alone in the bed and stretch. It feels nice to be alone, but I’m surprised my parents have left me. I roll over and get to my feet. I can hear the quiet hum of voices outside in the kitchen. The room is almost too bright. The adults vetoed Ryan’s garbage bag idea. Once it’s dark, we just try to leave the lights off. I quickly throw on my jeans and a long sleeve shirt, sliding my jacket on over top. My hand goes to my waist where my gun should be, but it’s not there. My parents confiscated it our first day at the cabin. I tried to argue, but my dad was adamant that he could protect me, that I am too young for a gun. I still keep my Crocodile Dundee knife stuck in my boot though. I’d be foolish to be totally unprotected.

  I smooth down my jeans, throw my hair up into a messy ponytail, and head out the door. A fire is burning in the enormous stone fireplace in the living room now—we don’t keep it lit at night for fear the smoke will attract the dead. I suspect, once winter hits, we will have to change that rule though.

  Everyone is gathered in the living room, spread out across the couches, to stay warm. Mom is handing out steaming bowls of hot oats that she’s mixed with honey. “Good morning, Sweetie,” she says as I take a seat on the floor beside Megan, and I give her a small smile, even though her pet names embarrass me a little. Sergeant Regg looks up with a grin on his face.

  “I thought you were going to sleep all day,” he teases me, and I make a face at him.

  “What time is it anyway?” I ask, and Ryan is the one that looks down at his wrist watch.

  “It’s only eight,” he tells me, and I relax. For a minute Regg had me thinking I’d really slept in.

  Barry Walker, an average height guy with glasses who had come all the way from New York with my parents, clears his throat and every eye turns in his direction. “We were discussing a supply run,” he reminds my dad and the Sergeant. Like little boys caught fooling around in class, they both nod in unison and straighten up in their seats.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, and Dad shakes his head at me. He doesn’t want me interrupting the adults. I grind my teeth in frustration and glance at Ryan, who looks equally annoyed. Ryan has finished his oatmeal and I rush to gulp the rest of mine down, following him into the kitchen.

  “This sucks,” I tell him, and he nods as he washes his bowl in the sink of hot, soapy water that my mom boiled this morning.

  “Agreed,” he tells me, holding his hands out for my bowl. I feel a little guilty handing it over.

  “It’s like they don’t think we can do anything,” I continue, not able to let it go. Sunny wanders into the kitchen with her own pink, plastic bowl, and Ryan takes it from her hand with a big smile on his face.

  “Hey, Sunny Bunny,” he greets her, and I have to stifle a giggle at the nickname.

  “What are you guys doing?” Sunny asks, and I shrug.

  “Nothing,” I tell her, and I can almost see her eyes glazing over in boredom.

  “Megan and Abby said they’d teach me how to play Go Fish,” she tells us as she hugs us both quickly around the waist and skips off in search of people who are more fun than us. I lean on the counter and watch as Ryan finishes washing Sunny’s bowl and sets it on a dish towel to dry.

  Silas walks into the kitchen through the back door and doesn’t even glance at me. “Hey,” he greets as he walks over and pours himself a cup of coffee from the metal tin sitting on the small propane camp stove that sits on the counter—without electricity, it’s been a lifesaver.

  “Hi,” I say in a pointed tone that has him glancing up at me for a second before turning away again.

  “The grown-ups are planning a supply run,” Ryan tells him, using his fingers to air quote grown-ups. Silas snorts, and I grin a little. I guess I’m not the only one that’s been chafing at authority around here lately. I see it though. The three of us made it alone for weeks, crossing a country that was swarming with dead heads trying to eat us at every turn. I think we deserve a little credit.

  “I’m gonna go grab a quick shower,” Ryan tells us as he walks towards the door. “We can get the details from Regg later.” I give him a small wave as he disappears out the door, heading to the camper he’s been sharing with Silas and Regg. I’m left alone with Silas. I look at him, but he’s still avoiding my eyes as he sips his coffee.

  “I think I’ll go out and bring in some more wood,” he says after a minute, and I’m sure he’s just using it as an excuse to get away from me. He’s been blatantly avoiding me these last few days—ever since he kissed me when we thought we were going to die. Sometimes I almost wonder if Silas would have preferred it that way.

  “I’ll come with you,” I offer, not giving him a chance to refuse as I follow him out the door. He sighs heavily like I’m annoying him, but I try not to take it personally. That is just the way Silas is, and I’m done letting him get away with ignoring me. I don’t know what that kiss meant, or what I truly feel for him, but I do know that I’ve come to care about him and despite the way he’s treating me, we are friends. Living through what we did these last couple weeks, relying on Silas and Ryan, not just for companionship during the darkest time of my life, but for my very survival, has formed a bond between the three of us that goes deeper than any other friendship in my life—even Abby.

  My parents have forbidden me from going outside alone, and even though I’m not alone, I doubt they had Silas in mind as an acceptable escort when they made that rule. I don’t care though. I’ve been cooped up inside the cabin for three days. The morning is bright and I breathe the scent of pine in deeply, enjoying the sound of the birds chirping merrily in the trees and the sun on my face. It’s like a whole new world up here, so far removed from all the ripping, biting death down below.

  Silas is striding off towards the wood shed and I have to jog to keep up. He’s already inside the building, which is about half full of split wood, when I get there. We’ll definitely have to stock this thing up before winter. I watch him throw pieces of wood inside an old wheel barrow that Abby’s parents always kept in the shed for convenience, and my temper snaps. Even though we are the only two people out here, he is still pretending I don’t exist.

  “You’re avoiding me,” I say baldly and watch as his back stiffens. For a minute I think he’s going to ignore me again, but he turns around slowly, like it’s paining him to do it.

  “What do you want from me Jane?” he asks, and it’s my turn to pause and think. I wasn’t expecting that question. I shrug.

  “I definitely want us to go back to the way things were,” I tell him. “Being friends,” I clarify when he doesn’t respond.

  “Okay,” he agrees quickly before turning his back on me again and going back to the wood. I watch him with confusion. He’s agreed to my demands, but I feel like nothing has really changed. I start to feel frustration bubble up inside me.

  “No,” I say and watch as he turns back around to give me an annoyed look.

  “No what?” he demands, and I put my hands on my hips.

  “You kissed me,” I accuse, “and now you are avoiding me like some…middle schooler.” Silas actually lets out a humorless laugh at that analogy.

  “Are you done?” he asks, effortlessly making me feel like the awkward middle schooler.

  “No,” I tell him, refusing to let him cow-toe me into silence. “Why did you do it?” I ask. “Why did you kiss me?” I clarify.

  “I knew what you meant,” Silas snaps as he shoves his hands into his pockets in agitation and kicks at a piece of wood on the ground. “Look, Blondie—I’m sorry. I thought we were going to die out there.” I nod. I had thought the same thing. “I just wanted to kiss a pretty girl before I bit the big one
, you know?”

  “What?” I demand incredulously. That wasn’t what I thought he was going to say at all.

  “Yeah,” Silas nods. “And since there wasn’t one of those around, I had to kiss you instead.” My jaw actually goes limp and of all the crazy things, I feel hurt. Silas catches the look on my face and frowns.

  “Come on, Blondie, you know I was joking,” he says, and I shrug. Do I really know that? Silas sighs in annoyance again. “You don’t need me to tell you how pretty you are,” he says gruffly, and even in the dim light I can’t help but notice that the tops of his ears have turned pink. I’m shocked, but only for a minute. Then realization dawns on me and I recognize how much I am terrorizing Silas right now with all this kissing talk. An evil idea pops into my head and I can’t ignore it.

  I take several steps forward until I’m so close to Silas that I’m crowding him. “What are you doing?” he asks, staring down at me in confusion. I shrug, stand up on my tippy toes, and press my lips to his, and I can actually feel the shock run through his body. He doesn’t pull away though—he kisses me back. I almost allow myself to get caught up in it. It’s as good as I remembered…but I force myself to pull away.

  Silas wraps his arms around me and tries to pull me back for another kiss, but I step back. “What are you doing?” he asks, and I shrug casually.

  “I just wanted to kiss a good looking boy,” I tell him and watch as he blinks. “And since there were none of those around, I kissed you instead,” I tell him succinctly as I turn and walk towards the door. I look back at Silas and see he is still frozen, right where I left him.

  “I guess I deserved that,” he admits, and I flash him a smile as I nod. Silas comes closer and my heart hammers in my chest as I watch him walk up. He puts his hands on my hips and for a brief moment I think he’s going to kiss me again, until I realize he’s feeling up the empty holster around my waist. “What happened to your gun?” he demands, and I almost burst out laughing. Here is the old Silas I have missed.

  “My parents took it away,” I admit, feeling like a toddler, and he frowns.