Zomb-Pocalypse Read online

  My eyes go wide and I begin to hyperventilate around his hand. He pulls me into his chest so that my sounds are muffled against his shirt, and I let myself breathe in his scent. Strangely, it helps relax me a bit.

  “Take it easy,” he warns me before slowly taking his hand off my mouth. “I get that you need to break down and freak out, but now is not the time.”

  I nod.

  He gives me a supportive pat on the back before getting up and listening hard at the living room window. Megan squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back as I strain my own ears, trying to listen. It sounds like the moans of a hundred zombies outside, and in the darkness my imagination runs wild.

  It’s a long few hours until dawn begins to light up the sky, streak by slow streak of light. We sit, barely even breathing and definitely not moving while we listen to the moans outside the house. The windows are covered, but Ryan has a watch on his wrist and keeps checking the time. “It should be light enough to see what’s going on outside now,” he says finally after the millionth time he’s checked it.

  “I’ll go upstairs and look out the window and see what’s happening,” Ryan promises as he stands and stretches, his muscles popping loudly in the silent room. We had even let the fire go out. We were afraid that the smoke was what gave away our position in the first place.

  “I’ll come with you.” Megan volunteers as she begins to stand up, but Ryan shakes his head.

  “No, you’re are the only one that knows how to fire a gun other than me. You need to stay down here just in case anything gets in.”

  My stomach jumps at the idea of a zombie getting in. I’ve been thinking about this scenario all night, but Ryan mentioning it sets it off the panic in my head again.

  “I’ll take Jane,” Ryan surprises me by saying, and I glance up incredulously.

  “Me?” I ask, not sure I heard him right.

  “You’re the only one here named Jane,” he says a bit rudely in return, and I choose to ignore it.

  “Alright,” I mutter as I climb to my feet.

  Ryan is over at the doorway that leads to the upstairs, and I stumble over something as I join him. I catch myself just in time to keep from falling flat on my face and making him think I’m an even bigger loser than he already does.

  “Careful,” he warns, and I make a small sound of irritation in the back of my throat.

  The stairway is completely windowless and dark, though there are windows upstairs, I comfort myself with the thought. The stairs are old and creaky, and each sound about gives me a stroke as I try my best to be quiet. We reach the top of the stairs, and Ryan chooses the bedroom that looks out over the front of the house where we have parked the vehicles.

  We walk softly across the old shag carpet, being careful to stay out of the window’s view. We arrive across the room on either side of the window and slowly peek out. My heart stutters, there are at least twenty zombies outside, swarming mindlessly around the yard. A few of them loiter around the car in their tattered clothing and loose hanging skin, some with their innards trailing out and being mashed beneath the feet of their clumsy brethren. Their skin has turned a sickening greenish-white and is beginning to peel.

  “Oh God.”

  Ryan looks over at me when I speak, “It’s okay. We can manage this.”

  I shake my head, not sure how.

  He turns and we head back downstairs.

  “There are at least twenty.” I tell the other two girls, and even Abby shows a bit of emotion and lets out a small whimper.

  “What are they doing out there?” Megan asks.

  I shrug, “Just kind of wandering around. It’s almost like they know we’re here somewhere, but they don’t know where.”

  Ryan nods. “It’s weird they would just gather here for no reason.” He looks at us all staring back at him, waiting for him to make the next move. “We need to pack up and be ready to run.”

  I don’t like that idea at all.

  “We can go out on the roof and try and take out as many as we can. The gunfire might bring more of them here, but if we’re quick we can be away before that happens.”

  He looks over at Megan, “Are you as good with that gun as I think?”

  Megan flashes him a small grin. “I am,” she says.

  Ryan smiles back.

  “I could use the help,” Ryan admits.

  Megan nods and pulls her gun from behind the pillow where she was sleeping. I watch her click the safety off with wide eyes.

  “You two pack up whatever we can easily carry and run with, and wait for us. If any of them break in, run upstairs to us.”

  I look over at Abby, and she’s staring at the floor. “Okay,” I say when it’s clear Abby isn’t going to say anything.

  Ryan nods at me before motioning for Megan to follow him. He stops and grabs a handful of ammo clips from the small pile he kept back. The rest is outside, divided between the old pick-up truck and our suburban.

  I can hear their footsteps as they climb the stairs. My nerves feel frayed beyond belief. I turn to Abby and throw her a bag to begin helping me load everything up.

  She lets it fall to the floor and then just stares at it.

  Anger floods through my entire body. I stomp angrily over to her and get in her face. “What are you doing? We have to get out of here.”

  She just shrugs, and I feel my temper snap. I reach out and slap her hard across the face.

  She looks stunned and stares at me with wide, watering eyes as she grips her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, but then change my mind. “No, actually, you deserved that. Are you trying to get yourself killed? Or get me killed?”

  She starts to shake her head, but I’m done letting her get away with this pity party any longer.

  “You are going to get us killed. Your parent’s gave up everything trying to keep you safe. If they could see you now, do you think they would be happy that you are sitting here like a damn zombie before you even turn into one, which you will, if you don’t start acting like you have a will to live.”

  Tears are running down her face, and I’m openly crying now too. “I love you Abby, you are like the sister that I never had. If something happens to you, it will destroy me.”

  Suddenly, the quiet is shattered by the sound of bullets roaring from the roof top. The sound seems to wake her up a bit.

  “I lost my parents too.” The admission pulls a ragged sob from my throat, but I quickly cut it off and wipe my sleeve across my runny nose. “At least you know what happened to yours.”

  Abby stands up and hugs me tightly, “I’m sorry Jane.”

  I give her a quick squeeze back before pushing her away. “I’m sorry too, but let’s honor their memory by trying our hardest to stay alive.”

  Abby nods and actually bends down to pick up the bag I had tossed to her.

  We start with the most important things, stuffing the ammo and spare handguns into the bag along with a few lightweight food items we had set aside. I look around, and there isn’t much in the room that we need. We already packed the other stuff outside yesterday. I grab a fire poker with a pointy metal end from beside the wood stove.

  The bark of the guns seems to go on forever, and pounding begins in earnest on the front door. Abby and I huddle together with our bags slung over our shoulders. I am tempted to dig in the bag and pull out a pistol, but I don’t even know how to tell if it’s loaded or not, so it would probably just get me killed.

  The guns finally go silent after what feels like a hundred years, and then Megan and Ryan are pounding down the stairs, guns still in their hands.

  “Everything okay down here?” Ryan asks, he seems a little out of breath.

  Abby and I both nod.

  Megan notices Abby up off the couch and smiles despite the seriousness of our situation.

  “We got most of them, but there are a few bunched up right at the front door that we couldn’t hit because of the overhang of the roof.”

  His words chil
l me. I do not want to be battling a bunch of zombies to get out of this house.

  “Let’s go out one of the windows instead,” I blurt out as the idea occurs me.

  It’s actually a pretty great idea. The window in the bathroom is on the opposite side of the house and is large enough for us all to squeeze out. Ryan goes first and peers out as best he can before sliding it open. It squeals a bit, and I feel like my heart is up by my tonsils. He carefully pokes his head out. I’m terrified that, at any minute, a zombie is going to pop up and rip it off.

  “All clear,” he whispers as he jumps down. He does a three-sixty scan of the area before turning around and helping Megan down. Abby goes next. Finally, it’s my turn. His hands wrap around my waist and pull me from the window like I weigh nothing.

  “Let’s go,” Ryan says, once again taking the lead.

  We follow him single file, creeping along. It is terrifying. When we come around the side of the house, we see four rotting corpses still huddled around the door. Their moans cover up our steps. Ryan doesn’t want to risk firing the gun and drawing more zombies that might surround and trap us. We are very exposed out here in the open, so he pulls the fire poker out of my hand instead. The rest of us stop as he moves forward and spikes the first zombie in the back of the head. Black sludge that should have been bright red blood goes flying out the back of the things skull, and it goes down like a sack of potatoes.

  As a trio, the remaining zombies turn on him with a hungry look in their vacant, filmy white eyes. Their teeth snap as they advance. A scream bubbles up in my throat, but I hastily choke it back down. The thought that we could run for it while the zombies are distracted with Ryan flits through my mind, and I instantly hate myself.

  Ryan pulls his arms back and forces the poker through the open mouth of the closest zombie. It snaps its ragged teeth on the metal pole, chipping them once last time before it goes down.

  The remaining zombies are nearly on top of him now. Megan holds up her gun and tries to get a clear shot, but she shakes her head helplessly and tears begin to fall down her face. The zombies are now too close for Ryan to swing back enough to get the poker up. He’s lost precious seconds trying to get the poker out of the skull of the last zombie. He punches one of the zombies in the face and knocks him back a few steps. The second zombie lunges for his neck and Ryan ducks.

  I can’t stand it anymore. I look around for a weapon and see my trusty nine iron in Abby’s hand. I pull it from her slack grip and charge into the fray. My brain screams at me to go back, but I ignore it as I wind up and swing the golf club for the fences. It bounces off the back of the zombie’s skull, but, unlike Ryan’s swings, the bastard doesn’t go down.

  Chapter Four

  The zombie turns on me with snapping teeth; the sound makes my blood run cold. Being this close to it, I can smell the overwhelming odor of rotting flesh. It makes bile rise up my throat and into my mouth. The apocalypse only started yesterday. How are these bodies so rotten already? The random thought flips through my mind as the zombie starts coming after me with those terrifyingly slow shuffling steps. I hastily retreat a bit to give myself more space. I bring the golf club down again and again. My arm aches with the strain. Every time I hit its skull the impact reverberates up my arm. I pound away again and again, blood spraying off my club and hitting me in the face, until I crack a hole in its skull. The club squishes down into the zombie’s half-rotted brain. The zed staggers, misses a step, and falls squarely at my feet. It looks dead, but I jump back away from it—just in case.

  With the numbers evened a bit, Ryan finishes putting down his zombie. He runs to me and holds me at arm’s length as his eyes rake up and down my body, looking for bites. “Are you okay?” he asks. He sounds winded.

  “Yeah,” I say, before turning away from him and vomiting into the grass. His hand pats my back. It’s comforting, even though I kind of wish he wasn’t seeing this.

  I turn back to him, and he uses a torn piece of his sleeve to wipe at the blood splattered across my forehead. Thankfully none of it got in my eyes or mouth.

  “That was a really brave thing you did. You saved my life,” Ryan says.

  I look down at the ground to avoid the intensity in his eyes. “Just another day in the zomb-pocalypse,” I mutter, blowing it off, but I know it was a huge deal. He would have been dead.

  “We should probably get out of here,” Megan says, coming up behind us.

  “Yeah, the noise will have attracted more,” Ryan agrees. He pulls me into a quick hug. “Thanks again,” he murmurs before heading off towards the ratty old pick-up truck.

  I turn to the other two girls, my eyes pleading with them. They are staring after him too.

  “Ryan…?” Abby surprises us all by calling out first.

  Ryan turns and looks back at us.

  “If you don’t have anywhere else to go, why don’t you come with us?”

  Ryan grins and grabs his duffel bag out of the back of the truck.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He gives an exaggerated wipe of his brow, and the three of us burst out laughing. It isn’t even that funny. I think we’re all just strung out on too much adrenaline. We each grab a box of supplies out of the back of the truck and transfer them into the Suburban as fast as we can. The pickup looks like it’s on its last leg, and we don’t even consider trying to salvage it.

  Megan climbs into the driver’s seat without even bothering to ask, and Abby climbs into the passenger seat, leaving me and Ryan to take the back.

  “I won’t miss that place,” Ryan chimes in as we leave the house and twenty stinking corpses behind in a cloud of dust. All three of us girls agree wholeheartedly.

  After the first few miles, Abby pulls out the map and consults it for a minute with Megan.

  “So are you really just driving around aimlessly, or do you have a plan?” Ryan asks.

  I meet Megan’s eye in the rear view mirror. After a minute of intense girl talk with our eyes, she nods.

  “Abby has a remote cabin by a lake in Illinois. We’re going to try and head there. It’s pretty isolated.”

  All three pairs of our eyes are on Ryan while he digests this information, I guess to see if we are crazy or if our idea actually has merit.

  “Sounds like as good a plan as any,” Ryan endorses the idea.

  Collectively, I think we all sigh in relief.

  “We’re going to need to get gas soon, though,” Megan reminds us. The idea of confronting more of those nasty things anytime soon is daunting.

  “There’s a small town about thirty miles from here, if we can make it that far?” Ryan leans forward to get a peek at the gas gauge.

  “We still have just over a quarter tank,” Megan confirms.

  Abby pulls out the map again.

  “Right there,” Ryan points it out. It’s only a few miles off our path and we decide to go for it.

  “Fingers crossed,” Megan mumbles as she floors it. The Suburban takes off like a shot.

  “So where are you all from?” Ryan asks after a few minutes of silence elapse.

  “Blairsville, Pennsylvania,” I tell him.

  He nods. “I know the place. Was it pretty bad there?”

  “If you mean, were people coming back from the dead and eating everyone?” Megan retorts with a snort, “Then yeah. It was really bad.”

  Ryan looks like he’s sorry he started this conversation.

  “What about you?” I ask, noticing an odd hesitation in his eyes.

  “It was pretty bad where I was too,” he agrees. “I barely got out alive.”

  “Where was that?” Abby asks.

  I’m pretty sure I’m the only one that sees how uncomfortable he is.

  “Here and there. I haven’t really had much of a home these last few years,” he says. By his tone, the subject seems kind of closed off. “Turn up here,” he reminds Megan and, just like that, the subject is dropped.

  “Check the radio,” I remind them.

 
Abby switches the knobs; it’s just static again. Even though I wasn’t really expecting anything, our morale falls even lower.

  “It’s been radio silence ever since the night this started,” Ryan says gravely. “It looks like they didn’t even have time to activate the emergency broadcasts.”

  Abby flips the knob off in anger. “We didn’t even know anything was happening till yesterday morning,” she confirms.

  I nod. I was probably the last of our group to know.

  “I wonder what even happened,” Megan questions.

  The rest of us shake our heads. It’s too difficult to even fathom.

  “Probably the government,” Ryan mutters darkly.

  I open my mouth to reply, but the gas station is suddenly visible up on our right.

  It’s one of those service stations out on the highway—the best kind for our situation—far away from the actual town. Megan pulls in and we slowly circle the parking lot looking for threats. There’s nothing but a stray plastic bag blowing around the parking lot. Megan pulls up to the pump, but Ryan shakes his head.

  “The electricity will be off. We’ll have to pump it directly out of the main tank underground.” Ryan is scanning the area. He points to a spot just a bit away from the pumps that’s covered by a man-hole looking cover.

  Megan pulls up and puts the car in park. “I don’t understand how we’re going to get the gas out of the ground?” she shakes her head in confusion.

  I have to admit that I don’t know either.

  “I threw a hand pump in with my stuff back at that farm. We have to pry the lid up.”

  Not for the first time, I feel like Ryan is a gift from God. If we hadn’t picked him up, we would never have known how to get gas without electricity. We would be walking right about now—the thought sends a shiver down my spine.

  “Do you need any help?” I ask.

  Ryan shakes his head. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Why don’t you girls go and look for some extra gas cans in the store. Be careful though, and take Megan with you,” he warns.

  I want to argue that I don’t want to go without him, but I guess that would be too needy. We just met this guy, and I can’t rely on him to hold our hand every minute of the day. Megan’s a good shot, I remind myself, and this place is pretty isolated. There aren’t even any vehicles in the parking lot.