Zomb-Pocalypse 3 Page 8

  Something is weird though, steam is rising out of the shower. I blink in surprise as I dip my hand underneath the spray and have to yank it back when it burns me. My first real smile today splits my face, and I chuck my towel and climb underneath the spray. It’s heaven, well worth nearly getting eaten by a zombie. I close my eyes and rinse all the dried gore from my hair and skin, washing and rinsing my hair three times before I’m satisfied. It’s been so long since I had a hot shower, not since Camp Freedom. At the cabin we heat water over the fire and use that to wash up, but it’s a huge production to fill the tub, so we usually don’t. Or, if we do, there is a line up and all of us girls end up using the same water.

  I stand there until the water starts to get cold, and then I feel guilty that I’m hogging it from Dad and Silas. I turn off the tap, and I’m instantly chilled by the cool night air. It was almost easy to forget for a moment and pretend that I’d step out of this shower into a heated room and a world that hasn’t completely fallen apart.

  I quickly wrap myself in a towel and dig out a warm change of clothes from my bag, getting into my clothes before hypothermia sets in.

  I open the bathroom door to find Silas and my dad looking at me anxiously. “You’re never going to believe it,” I tell them, and they both look confused.

  “What?” Silas asks, and I grin at them.

  “There’s actual hot water,” I confide and watch them go slack-jawed in surprise. Whatever they thought I was going to say, they hadn’t expected that. Silas takes one step towards the bathroom and I frown. “You’ll probably want to wait until it heats up again,” I say with an apologetic look. Silas nods like it’s no big deal, and he and my dad follow me into the kitchen instead.

  “How are you feeling?” my dad asks when I sit down with my pack and pull out a can of peaches and some dry noodles.

  “Great after that shower,” I tell them with a smile, even though I know he’s really asking about the zombie in the bathroom. I ignore them both as I add the chicken soup seasoning to the noodles and shake it around. They are hard and crunchy, but weirdly filling—I guess because the noodles soften and expand in my stomach.

  I sit and eat while they stare at me; it’s a little awkward. Finally, when I can’t stand it anymore, I turn to Silas. “I think that water should be warmed up by now,” I tell him, and he nods as he gets up from the chair. It’s almost like they don’t believe I’m actually okay, that I’m going to turn into a zombie if they take their eyes off me for a minute.

  When Silas is gone, my dad gives me a tired smile. “So how are you fee–?” he starts to ask, but I shake my head.

  “Don’t ask me that again, please,” I beg, and Dad lets out a sigh.

  “I just worry about you—I can’t help it,” he says, and I nod.

  “I know, but I can take care of myself…at least a little bit,” I tell him, and Dad lets out a small chuckle.

  “I know that,” he surprises me by saying, and I look over at him to see if he’s serious. He nods his head. “I’m sorry for treating you like a baby these last few days. I know now that you are capable and strong. It’s just going to be hard for your mother and me to loosen up with all the…” he pauses, searching for the proper word.

  “Zombies?” I suggest, and he cringes.

  “I hate that word,” he confides, and I nod.

  “Me too. It feels so fake,” I say as I toss my empty peach can in the sink.

  I stare at Dad for a few minutes and then nod towards the bedroom. “I think I’m going to hit the hay,” I tell him, and he stands up and almost gives me a hug before he remembers that he’s still covered in zombie guts.

  “It is late,” he agrees, blowing me a kiss instead.

  I head toward the first bedroom I come to and push the door open to find that it’s kind of girly. It must’ve belonged to the zombie from the bathroom. I creep around using my lantern to check the closet before I head over to the bookshelf and pick through the titles. I see a romance that catches my eye and lay down with it, but I don’t make it past the third page before I give up and tuck the book underneath the pillow. The lantern is a nice companion in this strange room that used to belong to a dead girl, but the batteries aren’t a luxury I can afford. So after giving myself a stern talking to, I reach over and switch it off.

  The entire room is bathed in darkness, and it’s a little creepy. So I do the only thing I can think of. I whisper my prayers, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.” Better than a zombie taking it. My dark thoughts intrude, but I push them aside. “But if I die before I wake…” My prayers starts to creep me out, and I can’t exactly remember the second verse anyway, so I give up and close my eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  “Rise and shine kiddo,” I hear my dad’s voice, and I open my eyes only to slam them shut again when I realize his flashlight is pointed right at my face.

  “Dad,” I yelp as I cover my eyes, and he reaches over and turns on my lantern.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles, and then he’s gone, leaving me to get up. The room is still dark, but with the bags over the window that isn’t a surprise. It definitely messes with your inner clock though. I pull myself out of the bed with a groan; I’m stiff from yesterday.

  There isn’t a lot to do since I’m already dressed. I haven’t worn pajamas since the morning Abby phoned to tell me about the end of the world. I quickly run a comb through my hair and braid it into a long, tight braid at the back of my head so it’ll be out of the way. I tuck the book I started reading into my bag and meet Silas and my dad in the kitchen.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Dad says, whistling a happy tune as he plants a huge bowl of hot oatmeal in front of my face and passes me a bag of brown sugar.

  “Morning,” I mumble as I add an obscene amount of sugar to my breakfast, making Silas wince. “Why are you so chipper this morning?” I can’t help asking my dad when he hands me a cup full of hot chocolate. It’s an awesome treat.

  “Why wouldn’t I be in a good mood?” he asks, answering my question with a question of his own. “We’re alive. The sun is shining. This kitchen is well stocked, so we’re having a good breakfast…” My dad pauses like he’s thinking. “Oh yeah,” he says when Silas’s face breaks out into a huge grin. I frown at them both. “Silas found a car this morning, and it runs.” I feel my pulse start beating double time when he says that.

  “Really?” I shout as I explode out of my chair and hug them both, nearly knocking my oatmeal onto the floor. My dad catches the bowl at the same time he catches me in a hug and he squeezes me back.

  “There’s even enough fuel to make it back home,” Silas tells me, and I smile. Home. The cabin really is home now, everyone I love is there. I frown thinking about my mom.

  “The sooner, the better,” I tell Dad. “Mom is probably worried sick.” My dad winces as he nods in agreement.

  “Eat your breakfast and we’ll go,” he tells me, and I have to sit down and force myself to eat even though I’m almost too excited. Yesterday, laying in that pit amid the rotting body parts, the thought of making it home was such a distant hope, but this morning it is actually within our reach. I feel something I haven’t felt very much in the last couple of months—joy!

  I eat so quickly I barely taste anything…except sugar. I almost give in to the urge to have another hot shower before we go, but I know it’s a foolish want, not a need. I’m not dirty, and everyone is probably worried sick about us.

  After breakfast, Silas leads us outside to the late model station wagon he’s found. It looks like it’s seen better days, but it has four wheels and an engine, so I’m tempted to kiss its wood-paneled exterior.

  I climb in the back with my bag. Silas finishes loading in the few boxes of stuff he’s pillaged from the house and then climbs into the passenger seat.

  “I can’t believe you found this car,” I tell him while we wait for my dad to come out.

  Silas turns to me with a grin. “I know. Luck was on our
side today,” he says and I laugh, I can’t help it. The whole day just feels so…great.

  My dad slides in behind the wheel and hands Silas and I each a large bag of chips. “I found these in the room I slept in last night,” he tells us, and even though I just ate breakfast, I open my bag of dill pickle chips and dig in.

  Our plan is to retrace our steps from yesterday and take the same route home. I’m surprised to find that we reach Wal-Mart only ten minutes after leaving the farmhouse.

  “It seems like it should be so much farther away,” I say when we pass the superstore and head back through town.

  “That’s because walking sucks,” Silas chimes from the front seat, and I can’t agree more.

  Thinking back over the harrowing run for our lives, I think about Barry and feel my face flush in anger. This whole thing was his fault.

  “What are you going to do about Barry?” I ask, and both Silas and my dad are quiet in the front seat for a bit.

  “I guess I’ll wait and hear his side of the story first,” my dad says, making me groan.

  “Come on, Dad. He left us!” I exclaim.

  “For dead,” Silas adds, apparently he isn’t willing to forgive and forget either.

  “Thankfully none of us died—so I’m feeling lenient,” Dad says, making both Silas and I huff in annoyance.

  We drive in silence through the remains of town. There are zombies everywhere I look, but in the car they are much less terrifying.

  I’m staring at an elderly woman wearing a babushka, surprisingly she looks much more spry as a zombie than she probably was in life—when my Dad suddenly slams on the brakes. “Ouch,” I say as I face plant the seat in front of me.

  My dad looks back at me in the rear-view mirror and frowns. “You’re not wearing your seatbelt?” he demands, and I shake my head.

  “What, is a zombie cop going to give me a ticket?” is my smartass reply, which only makes the frown lines in my dad’s forehead become more pronounced.

  “No smart mouth, but a seatbelt will still stop you from going through the window, so law or no law, I want you wearing it.”

  “Fine,” I huff, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Why did we stop?” Silas points out the window, and for the first time I notice the truck parked crookedly on the side of the road.

  “Is that our truck?” I ask, even though I know it is. There are a lot of black pickup trucks that look the same, but not very many with the red fuel tank in the back, or the piles of supplies that we took from Wal-Mart. “But why would it be here?” I burst out before I realize that obviously Silas and my dad know nothing more about it than I do.

  “I’m gonna go check it out,” Silas says as he slips from the station wagon and pulls his gun from his hip. My stress level goes up several notches now that Silas is out of the car. I scan the area to make sure there are no zombies in the immediate vicinity…there are a few lifeless ones around the truck—I count ten.

  “What do you think happened?” I ask Dad, but he just shrugs without answering me. He’s too busy watching for trouble. Silas approaches the truck and looks through the window, and then I see him hop in. The taillights light up as he starts the engine, and my Dad pulls up alongside him.

  “What do you think happened?” my dad repeats my own question to Silas once he’s leaned over and rolled down the passenger side window—no automatic windows in this beauty.

  Silas shrugs. “I can’t be sure, but it looks like Regg ran into some trouble when he left us. Maybe he ran into a group that was too big?” Silas shrugs again. “It’s impossible to know,” he says helplessly. I feel my heart dip in fear for Regg. He was a nice guy. I really don’t like the idea that something might’ve happened to him.

  “Do you think he’s still out here somewhere?” I ask, climbing over into the front seat. Silas and my dad both scan the area.

  “We can’t know for sure,” my dad says, and even Silas shakes his head.

  “I think if Barry didn’t pick him up, then he isn’t out here. Not anymore,” Silas says as he gets out of the truck and points to all the zombie gore on the outside of the truck. “See these dents all along the side and the hood?” he points, and my dad and I both nod, our hearts sinking. “It must’ve been a lot of zombies, and you can tell someone was in the truck or they wouldn’t have bothered with it,” Silas says, sounding like a professor of zombie studies.

  “Let’s get ready to go,” Dad says, motioning for Silas to get back in the truck. “The zombies must’ve moved on,” he says to me.

  I watch Silas stand outside the truck and scan the area again with his binoculars. “CHAD!” he shouts, making me jump.

  “What is he doing?” I hiss at my Dad, but he doesn’t seem all that concerned. He’s looking around for any sign of Regg.

  We strain our ears and listen, but the only reply is the far off moan of hungry zombs.

  “Damn it!” Silas curses as he gets back in the truck with a resigned look. “I was really hoping we’d find him.

  “I’m sure he’s back at camp,” I tell Silas, but he doesn’t look convinced.

  “We’ll follow you,” my dad yells across the car to Silas, and Silas nods as he puts the truck in gear and pulls away. I wait for Dad to follow him, but his hand doesn’t even twitch towards the gear shift. I turn to look at him, and he’s looking pointedly at my seatbelt.

  “Okay, okay,” I mutter as I buckle myself in. It’s probably a good idea; I doubt this car has airbags.

  It’s a relief to pull into the driveway at the cabin, and a smile lights my face as I get out and stretch before jogging over to Silas, who’s just backed the truck in for easier access to unload. We both spot the car Barry used as his getaway vehicle parked around the side of the cabin and frown.

  I open my mouth to say something to Silas about it when the door of the cabin bursts open and Barry stands on the porch with a shotgun in his hand. “What in the actual fuck,” Silas mutters under his breath as he grabs me and pulls me in behind the truck for protection.

  “Barry,” I hear my dad holler. He’s also dove behind the station wagon. It might seem like a bit of an overreaction, but not really after what we know about this guy. He’s super shady and had no problem leaving us all to die.

  I peek around the truck and see Regg come out behind Barry. Regg claps a hand on his shoulder and easily disarms him with some military tactic when Barry doesn’t automatically lower his gun.

  “Relax man, it’s them,” I hear Regg say, and then my mother is bursting out the door sobbing. She stops when she sees my dad.

  “Where is she?” she demands, looking terrified and hopeful all at once. My dad points to Silas and I, who are still hunkered behind the Ford. Mom runs up and grabs me in a half-hug, half-chokehold, and Silas steps back quickly, not wanting to be involved in something so emotional. “I thought I’d lost you,” my mom sobs, laughing hysterically at the same time. I’m not really sure how to react, so I just pat her awkwardly on the back, half-wishing I could run off like Silas. My mom pulls back and looks at me as her eyes narrow, and I know I’m in trouble. She’s glad I’m alive, but now she also wants to kill me.

  “Mom…” I start to say, but she doesn’t give me the chance to finish.

  “Jane Elizabeth May Hanson,” she says, raising her voice with each name she adds, and I wince. I hate it when she uses my whole name, and I hate people hearing it and knowing my whole name.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I just couldn’t let them go off alone. I was worried something was going to happen to them,” I say in a rush, and my mom stops and takes a deep breath like she’s trying to calm down. My dad comes over, puts both his hands on her shoulders, and gives her a squeeze.

  “I think we should talk,” he tells her, and I send him a grateful look.

  “Oh, don’t think you aren’t going to be punished,” he tells me. “You disobeyed us and you caused your mother a lot of stress,” he continues, and my heart sinks. “But…” he adds, and I look up at him in sur
prise. “You also proved your metal and your mom and I are going to talk about letting you have a few more responsibilities…maybe even allow you out of the house,” he jokes, and I attack hug him.

  “Jane!” I turn from my dad’s hug and see Ryan striding towards me. He looks angry, and I guess he has the right. I would be pissed if he snuck off. “Don’t you ever do that again,” he tells me as he wraps his arms around me. Despite the fact that I’m torn between him and Silas, I squeeze him back because no matter who I pick, they are both still my best friends and I love them.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, and I really do mean it. Abby comes over and hugs me, and so does Sunny and Megan and even Regg…Chad.

  “What happened to you guys?” Regg asks when we’ve all hugged each other. “Barry said you were surrounded and ripped apart right in front of him, back at the store.” My mouth opens in shock to hear the fairytale Barry fabricated to explain our absence. I hear Silas swear as we all turn to look at Barry. He’s sweating and pale. I’m so surprised, you could probably knock me over with a feather, when my dad lets go of my mom and strides forward and punches Barry right in the nose. Barry goes down like a sack of potatoes, and I’m just a little bit impressed with my dad, even though I’m definitely going to make fun of him later…after all, he was the one that said we should all forgive Barry.

  “I can’t believe you left us for dead and then just came back here like nothing happened,” my dad spits as Barry climbs to his feet.

  “I’m sorry,” Barry says, surprisingly not making any excuses. “I shouldn’t have done it.”