Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Read online

  My mom is already in the kitchen, and she hands us a thermos of hot chocolate, three go-cups, and a hot egg sandwich for each of us. Ryan, Dad, Barry, and Regg have made several supply runs into the small communities and surrounding rural farms in the area, and it’s like Christmas every time they return. I bite into my egg sandwich and close my eyes for a minute to savor it. After their third trip into town last week, they returned with the backseat of the truck stuffed with live chickens. Half of us thought they were crazy, but the chickens have really added to the quality of life we are building for ourselves up here.

  Silas and Ryan set them up in the closest neighboring cabin. It was empty and if the owners haven’t shown up yet, chances are they probably won’t. It isn’t a permanent solution, but with winter coming, it’s the best option besides letting them live in the house with us! The only drawback is soon we will need to keep the fire going in the cabin with the chickens as well, and that will mean even more wood that needs to be chopped. I almost voted to keep the damn birds in our cabin when I heard that.

  Mom has always reveled in the housewife duties, so she’s adapted to life at the cabin better than anyone. She stays in the house, playing with Sunny all day, baking bread, and making all the meals. I can’t complain, though, because I would never be able to make bread and having even the most basic comfort back again has really made this whole situation seem not so terrible. Of course, the fact that we are on top of a zombie-free mountain has a lot to do with that too.

  “You girls be careful out there today,” my mom says, planting a kiss on each of our cheeks, and we all promise her that we will. Silas joins us in the kitchen, and my mom hands him his own egg sandwich and a cup of coffee.

  “Take care of my girls,” Mom says, like she does every day, and Silas nods as we make our way outside. The icy blast of wind and water makes me want to run right back inside the door, but I settle for running to the truck instead.

  Megan climbs behind the wheel of the older model pickup that my dad brought back for us after their first supply run, and we all sit with our teeth chattering until the engine warms up and the heat kicks in. “I think we should start the truck before we all come out here in the morning,” Abby complains, “We can take turns.” I agree wholeheartedly.

  “Dad should’ve brought us back a truck with command start,” I grouse, and the girls laugh. It might sound ungrateful. Really, we are very thankful to have our own truck, especially since we couldn’t fit a lot of wood in the old truck—but since everything is essentially free these days, a few extra options would’ve been nice.

  Just like she does every morning, Abby flips on the radio. Together we all sit and listen to static as she flips slowly through every channel to see if there is anything new.

  “What would you do if you actually heard something?” I ask—we do a lot of hypotheticals these days.

  “Freak out,” Abby and Megan both say in unison, and we laugh. Silas climbs into the back of the truck beside me, and I give him a smile, which he makes half an effort to return. I glance up and see Megan watching us in the mirror with a smirk on her lips, and I shake my head at her.

  Silas comes with us every morning; apparently the promise of freedom was just an illusion. He comes with us under the guise of hunting, but I know that Regg and my parents have asked him to keep an eye on us while we are out gathering wood. Some days he helps us, but most of the time he slips off into the forest and doesn’t return empty-handed. It’s usually small game he brings back, rabbits and birds, but I did overhear him planning a trip to go higher up the mountain for bigger stuff like elk or moose.

  “When are you going on that hunting trip?” I ask, since I’m thinking about it now and I’m curious. Silas looks surprised that I even know about it.

  “Eavesdropping again?” he asks, and I grin. He knows me too well. The top of the stairs is a great place to stay in the loop. My parents and Regg think Abby, Megan, and I are too young to be involved with the day-to-day decisions, but I think we are too changed by this outbreak to go back to just being teenagers. So we are stuck in a kind of limbo until we turn eighteen. It makes no sense to me, eighteen is just a number; we have proven ourselves, but they still insist on treating us like babies.

  “Come on,” I wheedle, “Just tell me. You know I’ll find out anyway.”

  Silas snorts, which I take to mean he knows I’m right. “Fine. I’m planning a trip higher up the mountain to hunt some bigger game. We need something we can butcher and store for the winter.” When he finishes, I stare at him until he gives me an annoyed look. “What?” he demands.

  “I already knew that part,” I tell him, hoping for a few of the more juicy details.

  “Then you already know as much as I do,” he tells me. “It’s not a solid plan yet, we are still working on it.”

  “When do you think you’ll go?” I ask, and Silas sighs.

  “I’m not sure, but sometime after the first snow. There aren’t any roads that go higher up the mountain, so I’ll have to hike in and out.” I crinkle my nose at that.

  “Wont the snow make it harder?” I ask, not sure why I’m the only one seeing this problem.

  “A little harder, but the meat is heavy and I’ll have to drag it. Dragging it on a sled will be easier than any other method.” Silas surprises me by resting his hand on mine for a minute. “Don’t worry, Blondie, I got this. When I know more, I’ll tell you,” he promises. Even though he isn’t handing me candy and roses, I know that this is romantic, for Silas.

  My conversation with Silas is cut short when Megan pulls into the same area we were working yesterday and puts the truck in park. We all sit in the truck and stare out the window at the pounding rain, without an ounce of ambition.

  “Come on lazy bones,” Silas says at last as he pulls up his hood and jumps out of the truck. He is way too energetic.

  “I wish I had half his ambition,” Megan complains, and I laugh.

  “I’d settle for a quarter,” I say, and the three of us giggle, making Silas stare through the window and shake his head. We all pile out and grab our equipment. Silas watches while we do our ritualistic rock- paper-scissors. He shakes his head when I do a happy dance because I’m the first one on Z-duty today.

  I start my lap around the clearing, and Silas falls into step beside me. “Be safe today,” he tells me, “Keep your guard up, and be thorough. Just because we haven’t seen anything lately, doesn’t mean it’s one hundred percent safe.” I nod.

  “I know,” I snap, looking up to find that he’s staring down at me. My heart starts pounding in my chest and, despite the water trying to drown me, my mouth goes dry. Silas pulls me around the side of a large tree and presses his lips to mine. I kiss him back like it’s the last time I’ll ever get to kiss him because… you never know. He pulls back suddenly and gives me a lopsided grin.

  “Take care, Blondie,” he tells me again before he takes off into the trees. I stand for a minute, watching him walk away, and then I force myself to snap out of it and get back to my patrolling. A zombie waits for no kiss.

  I’m soaked to the skin and half-hypothermic before I even get my turn with the saw. At least when I’m working hard I don’t feel as cold. We are in a rush to get the truck filled up. We have a deal with Regg where we promised to fill at least one truckload of wood a day. Most days we can do a lot more, but on days like this that are rainy, and cold, and miserable, it’s nice to be able to cry mercy and meet our quota early.

  Wood shavings fly everywhere as I section off a particularly large chunk of deadfall. One lands on my tongue and I spit it out, glancing over at the nearly filled truck, anxious to get out of here. Even if we finish before Silas gets back, waiting for him in the truck with the heat on is a nice alternative to hanging out in the rain. The chainsaw roars in my ear, and the power of it makes my hand vibrate and itch. I take my finger off the throttle for a minute to help ease the tingle before it turns into a full-scale case of the numb hand, and I just let it idl
e as I try and catch my breath. My ears are still ringing from the noise, but over that, I hear something else. Abby calls me again, and I turn with a smile to see what she wants; we usually don’t bother each other when we are cutting wood. It’s just easier not to interrupt the flow once we get to work, but I guess since I just stopped for a minute, she thought it was fine.

  The smile melts off my face, and I let out a girly scream when I come face-to-face with a zombie. If I hadn’t turned, he would’ve been taking a bite out of my back in another minute. His face is way too close to my own, and it’s not pretty. I barely have enough time to bring the chainsaw up to act as a buffer. I jab him in the chest, and it keeps him at bay. It’s terrifying to see him out in the woods, more because I’d been lulled into a false sense of security, than my actual fear of him. My heart sinks as I call over to Abby. “I thought you were watching!”

  Abby looks crushed, and I use some of my newfound muscle to push the deadhead further back so I can have a little more breathing room. He’s a full grown male though, and heavy. I know this won’t work for much longer because the zombie doesn’t care that I have a chainsaw pointed at his chest. His only thought is to rip and tear and eat me. His arms come up and take a swipe at me, and I know I don’t have enough time to put the chainsaw down and grab the gun from my holster. My only weapon IS the chainsaw.

  I make a face. This is going to be disgusting. I don’t let myself think about it too much before I squeeze the trigger to get the blade going. The chainsaw is still pressed against the zombie’s shirt and it immediately bites into his flesh. The zombie is forced back a little by the press of the blade, and I pull the chainsaw free from his chest with a bit of effort. It was a rookie mistake; I know it’s got to be the brain.

  The next time he comes at me, I brace myself and stab him in the face with the spinning blade. It’s worse than I imagined. I’m instantly sprayed with a viscous mix of blood, snot, and zombie brains, and it doesn’t stop as the blade works its way through his skull.

  I feel my face become coated with slime, and I’m glad I am still wearing the sunglasses at least. I can’t even see out of them at this point. I purse my lips together to keep from getting any of the infectious goop in my mouth. It’s taking all of my strength. I count to three before I release the saw and jump back, pulling the useless glasses from my face.

  The roar of the chainsaw goes instantly quiet, and the zombie’s knees buckle as he falls backwards like a tree. The chainsaw is sticking through his face and in my adrenaline-fueled state of hysteria, I nearly yell out TIMBER! I barely manage to suppress it as I look down at the zombie and realize what I just did.

  I take a step back and stare down at the rotting carcass as Abby and Megan run up to me and stand there gaping. “I am so sorry, Jane!” Abby cries. “You were really close to the tree line and I was across the clearing and he just stumbled out of the trees right at you. You couldn’t hear me over the saw and Megan couldn’t line up a shot.” I hold my hand up to silence her as I hear movement in the underbrush and this time grab the gun at my hip.

  When Silas comes bursting out of the woods and stops to stare at me, his mouth actually drops and I quickly lower my gun.

  “Holy shit, Blondie, I leave you alone for an hour and you go all Texas Chainsaw Massacre on some zombie?”

  I raise my gore-stained fingers and point at him. “Be careful, Silas, or you’ll be next,” I caution him, and he laughs.

  “Didn’t I tell you to behave yourself?” he asks, and from the corner of my eye I see Megan and Abby gaping at him like he’s completely lost his mind. The exact opposite is actually true though. Silas’s calm is having a similar effect on me. I think if he’d run over here and started freaking out, I would be in as many pieces as that zombie right now.

  “You two are so messed up,” Abby says, and Silas shoots her a crazy grin that will no doubt cement her opinion, and that is exactly why he did it.

  “I think you’ve had enough for one day,” Silas suggests, and I shrug.

  “Whatever you think,” is my flippant reply, even though inside I feel like my very guts are shaking. Silas lines the backseat with garbage bags that he finds underneath the front seat, and we drive back to the cabin with all the windows down. I know the smell is making Megan and Abby turn green, but they feel so guilty, they don’t mention it.

  I’m going to need about ten showers to wash all this stuff off. Worse than the zombie guts, they will all be ice cold showers since the cabin doesn’t have heat.

  When we get home, I catch a flutter of movement at the window, but it’s gone before I can look twice. It’s probably someone that looked out here and saw me and then ran for the hills!

  Silas helps me out of the truck so I won’t touch too much of the upholstery, and then we walk towards the house as a group. Silas would usually head straight to the RV, but I guess he feels like he’s going to owe someone an explanation. I don’t even care right now; I just need a shower so I can wipe some of this toxic zombie crap off of me.

  Abby pushes the door open and I follow closely, nearly running into her back when she stops abruptly. “Happy Birthday, Jane!” I hear my Mom and Sunny shout in mismatched harmony. There are even a few balloons hung up.

  “What the hell?” I hear Silas mutter just before my mom catches a glimpse of me zombie a la mode and starts screaming her head off. Ryan, Regg, my dad, and even Barry are there too, and they all start talking at once, but I don’t know what they’re saying. I can’t hear anything over my mom’s screaming.

  “I’m going to take a shower!” I shout to be heard above the commotion, and then I slip away, or as much as someone who is the entire focus of attention can slip away. I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment, and it isn’t pretty. I’m covered head to toe in black zombie blood, except for the perfect outline around my eyes where I was wearing the glasses. It’s like the world’s most horrible tan!

  Up until a minute ago, I hadn’t even realized it was my birthday, but I still feel confident saying—this has been the worst birthday ever.

  Chapter Eleven

  “It’s your birthday?” Silas asks when I get out of the shower and return to the living room.

  “I guess so,” I say with a shrug. I’ve actually lost track of what day it is, but if it’s my birthday, then it’s November 25th—exactly one more month until Christmas. My heart sinks at the thought of a zomb-pocalypse Christmas. I will definitely not be getting a new IPad this year.

  “I heard what happened kiddo,” Dad says, coming over to give me a hug now that I’m not covered in infectious material. “Are you okay?”

  “Happy Birthday, Jane,” Regg says, coming over and giving me a smile. Him interrupting my dad, who’s about to ask me every little detail and make me relive it, is the best present he could have given me. I took down a zombie with a chainsaw; now I just want to forget about it.

  “Thanks, Regg,” I say. I’m still having a hard time adjusting to calling him Chad, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Being an army man, he’s probably used to hearing his surname more than his first name anyway.

  Mom walks out of the kitchen with a birthday cake lit with seventeen candles, and my mouth drops open. Everyone bursts into a gusty rendition of Happy Birthday, and I’m actually grinning ear to ear by the time it’s over. “Make a wish,” Mom says as she sets the cake on the table in front of me, and I close my eyes and blow out the candles. I wish for the zombies to die off and for life to return back to normal. Everyone cheers when the candles go out, and I realize that this is a novelty for everyone, not just me. It’s the first truly normal thing to happen since the zombies.

  “How did you get chocolate cake, and candles?” I ask my mom with a smile, and she grins mischievously back.

  “I had your dad pick up a few extras on his supply run,” she confides as she starts dishing out enormous pieces of cake. I let Sunny have the first piece, and the look on her face is better than the first piece of cake could ever make me feel.
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  Mom has supper ready after the cake. I can’t believe she let us have our dessert first. The girls and I set the table, and then Mom brings out an enormous goose that Silas shot yesterday. She was roasting it over the fire all day, and she serves it with rice and canned vegetables that she stuffed inside the goose and cooked with all its juices to add flavor. I eat until I’m stuffed and then push my chair back to give myself some more breathing room. This day has been surreal.

  “How about a game of cards?” Regg suggests, and we all jump at the idea, not wanting the night to end so soon. Regg teaches us girls how to play poker, Silas and Ryan claim that they already know how, and we play for pennies. Abby’s parents kept an enormous jar of pennies at the cabin, for some reason. My Mom plays with Sunny, bouncing a balloon back and forth around the living room, and Barry and my dad sit on the couch and talk. Barry has actually been pretty decent lately. I think the whipping did him a lot of good and caused a complete three-sixty to his personality. He’s really been trying to make up for what he did, and we have all been slowly forgiving him.

  When ten-thirty rolls around, my parents disperse our game and tell us to go to bed. My mom already tucked Sunny in over an hour and a half ago. They say goodnight and head to bed themselves. Regg has wiped the floor with all of us, including Ryan and Silas, so our game was pretty much over anyway. I only have three pennies left to my name.

  “You can give us a chance to win back our money tomorrow,” Megan tells Regg flirtatiously, and we all laugh. I had a lot of fun tonight, and in a world void of TV or internet, gambling might just be the next big thing.

  Ryan walks over and gives me a hug. “Happy birthday, Jane,” he tells me, planting a kiss on my lips before I realize what he’s going to do, and I pull away quickly. I glance over at Silas and see that he’s watching us with a scrutinizing look, and I blush.