She nodded solemnly. “Yes, you did. As crazy as it sounds, you might not be too far off. I’ve heard rumors….Anyway, I’ve tried calling nine-one-one, and they aren’t even answering. That right there tells me, things are bad all over.”
Henry shuffled over to Neil’s closet and opened it. Finding the guitar case, he pulled it out and set it on the ground. “Well,” he said, opening up the case. “We have a couple things on our side.”
“What?” she asked, kneeling down next to him.
He pulled out the gun. “A loaded rifle,” he said, checking it and nodding. “Some extra bullets… and us still breathing. I call that pretty damn lucky.”
“I never thought I’d be happy to see a gun in a retirement home. But as far as I’m concerned, this is a gift from God.”
He snorted. “Well, I doubt God had anything to do with this, Mary.”
“No, but if you had died and I’d have never known about this gun…”
“Can’t argue with you there. That means I’m the gift, though Mary, not the gun.” He grinned lecherously. “Feel free to unwrap me later, if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “You just never give up, do you?”
His face became serious. “Laughter gives me hope, Mary. If I can still make you laugh, then there’s hope.”
She patted his arm. “I understand. Now, let’s gather some things and then drive to my house.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She stood up. “Um, Henry?”
“What?”
“You ever fire a gun before?”
He stood up. “Damn tootin’, I’ve fired a gun! Now, my eyes aren’t what they used to be, but I can still shoot.”
“Okay. I just had to ask.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered. And Mary?”
She looked up into his eyes. “Yes, Henry?”
“I want you to know that I appreciate you coming for me. You risked your life to save mine and I’ll be forever grateful.”
“Of course, Henry. I’d do it again. You and I have become really good friends. There is no way I’d leave you behind.”
“Same goes here. Now, let’s saddle up and get out of Dodge. Something tells me we have a dangerous ride ahead of us, Mary. That what we’ve just seen here is nothing compared to what we’re going to be involved with later.”
“You think it’s worse out there? That it’ll be even more dangerous”
“Damn right I do.”
“Then…why are we leaving?”
“We have no other choice,” he replied, staring off into space. “And, something tells me…we’re needed somewhere else. I don’t know how or why, but I feel it in these old, rickety bones.”
“Oh.”
He turned back to her. “That reminds me- I need to get something for the trip. Something back in my room.”
“It might be too dangerous, going back up there.”
“I need my pills, Mary. You forget, I’m almost ninety.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What pills? You’re the only one here not on pills.”
“Just some vitamins, to keep me going strong.”
“Well…okay. If they mean that much to you.”
As they walked towards the doorway, she reached into her pocket. “I almost forgot…I took the bus today, but I found someone’s car keys on the ground when I was running to your room.”
He reached for them. “Oh, Cadillac, good going Mary.”
“I think they’re Lizzy’s,” she said somberly. “That poor woman.”
He nodded. “Well, she certainly won’t be needing them anymore.”
“I know.”
As they stood next to each other by the doorway, he turned to her and cleared his throat. “It’s just us now, Mary. I can’t promise you that we’ll make it out of here alive, but I can promise that I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you as safe as an old cowboy like me, can.”
She smiled. “I know, Henry.”
“Do you believe in happy endings, Mary?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“Happy endings come in many shapes and forms. If I die tomorrow, the fact that you came to my room when all of this was happening, that for me isn’t just a happy ending, it’s a chance for me to pay you back.”
“Oh, Henry…you don’t need to pay me back.”
“Believe me, Mary. There isn’t anyone who can give you a happier ending like old Henry can.”
She stared at the shit-eating grin on his face and smiled in disbelief. “You are one sick individual, Henry. Nancy James told me all about your happy endings.”
He winked. “I made you smile, though, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you certainly did.”
“Like I said before, smiles mean hope, Mary. It keeps us all going.”
She touched his cheek. “That it does, Henry. That it does.”
****
To learn more about Henry and Mary, you’ll need to read Zombie Games Two (Running Wild). But first, read Zombie Games (Origins) for free, which is coming up next
Zombie Games
(Origins)
By Kristen Middleton
Cover by www.maeidesign.com
Copyedited by: Carolyn M. Pinard
www.thesupernaturalbookeditor.com
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright ©2012 by Kristen Middleton
ISBN 978-1-300-70919-0
Second Edition
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written permission of the author.
***
Zombie Games (Origins)
Seventeen year old Cassandra Wild thought living in the chaos of her mother’s home daycare and dealing with her developing feelings for Bryce, her new Martial Arts’ instructor, was a struggle, until the night her world turned upside down.
When an untested vaccine kills more than just a rampant flu virus, Cassie learns how to survive in a world where the dead walk and the living…run!
This YA story is a lighthearted adventure filled with zombies, butt-kicking teenaged girls, a man obsessed with video games, an annoying but totally HOT karate instructor, and humor when needed.
This is a young adult fictional story that includes some language, violence, and mild sexual situations. Recommended for ages sixteen and up.
Chapter One
“Cassie, take out the garbage.”
“Why can’t Allie do it?” I asked, closing the refrigerator door, pickle jar in hand.
“Because it’s your job,” replied my mother, who was sitting at the kitchen counter, leafing through the mail.
I pulled out the largest dill I could find and crunched down. “Mom,” I said between chews, “come on, she needs more chores. She’s twelve.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Sorry.”
She peered at me over her glasses. “Tell you what…you can do the dishes and I’ll have her take out the garbage.”
“Fine, I’ll take out the garbage.”
“I thought so,” she answered with a wry smile.
I rolled my eyes and swallowed the last of the juicy pickle. Before I could reach for another, she pointed to the trash can. “The pickles will still be here when you return.”
“I still can’t believe you’re making me do this in the middle of the night,” I pouted, glancing out the window into the darkness.
“That’s funny, coming from a seventeen-year-old who keeps begging me to extend her curfew.”
“Yes, but not to go wandering alone in the dark.”
Her eyes softened. “Honey, there’s nothing to be afraid of. We live on a quiet cul-de-sac in the suburbs.”
Even though my mother was try
ing to comfort me, I just couldn’t shake the feeling of dread or quiet the niggling voice inside, whispering of something wicked lurking in the darkness. But then again, it could just be the fact that I’d been watching a horror flick earlier and it’d totally freaked me out. “Ok, well, if I’m not back in two minutes, send dad out.”
“Right,” she snorted. “Little Ms. Black Belt.”
I couldn’t help but grin. Last week I’d received my Black Belt after four years of intense discipline and training. It took a lot of patience and commitment, but earning the Belt was worth it.
As I stepped outside, a warm breeze lifted my brown hair, blowing it across my face. I glanced up at the sky and shrugged off my anxiety; it really was a peaceful evening. The stars glimmered brightly and the moon was full.
As I rounded the corner of the garage, Charlie, one of the neighbor’s dogs, began to bark; which was a pretty common occurrence. As annoying as it typically was, tonight it was somewhat comforting to know I wasn’t alone.
“Hey, it’s just me, Charlie!” I called, my voice echoing across the dark cul-de-sac. A lone streetlight flickered on his side of the circle.
Charlie’s barking increased and he tossed in some obnoxious growls. As far as I was concerned, this dog had some serious trust issues.
There was a sudden loud crash from behind the Hendrickson’s rambler and the motion-detector light flickered out. Charlie growled angrily in the darkness for a few seconds and then, without warning, let out an ear-piercing yelp.
Oh crap, that can’t be good, I thought.
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I began to panic. Really, I wanted nothing more than to take out the garbage and hurry back inside. I also knew that if I ignored Charlie, and he was hurt, I’d never forgive myself.
Dropping the garbage bag, I started walking towards his house when I heard a deep, strangled moan. I froze in my tracks; that wasn't Charlie.
I shivered. “Hello? Mr. Hendrickson?”
A tall shadow emerged from the darkness and my breath caught in my throat. I watched, motionless, as the figure shuffled through Charlie’s yard, towards me. It was about a hundred yards away when the figure stopped directly under the streetlamp. I sighed with relief when I recognized Scott, a guy from my karate class, who I’d dated a few times. It certainly was creepy, though, that he was lurking around the neighbor’s yard in the middle of the night.
“Scott, what are you doing out here?” I called out.
He just stared at me, swaying slightly.
“Is everything okay?” I tried again, wondering if he was drunk. He’s my age, seventeen, and I’ve never known him to drink alcohol or use any kind of drugs, so his behavior was odd. I stepped closer and noticed that he held Charlie in his arms. An alarm went off in my head, and I froze. “Um, is Charlie hurt?”
Scott growled and then dropped his face down towards Charlie, who lay motionless. When he lifted his head back up, there was a dark red stain covering his mouth. He smacked his lips and moaned in some kind of twisted pleasure. I shuddered in horror as my brain finally registered what was happening. Scott was feeding on Charlie!
“Oh…my…God!” I choked, backing away. Bile rose in the back of my throat as the guy I once kissed assaulted the dog again with that very same mouth.
I turned to run, stumbling over the garbage bag I’d dropped, my ankle twisting in pain. I cried out and struggled to stand when something grabbed my leg firmly. I looked back and froze in shock; it was Scott, only it wasn’t him. His green eyes were now black as death, cold and lifeless. His skin was gray and riddled with bloody sores. His mouth, which still dripped with Charlie’s blood, twisted into a grimace and he let out an unearthly screech.
“Scott?!” I screamed as his teeth tore into my skin.
~~~
I opened my eyes and drew my comforter up to my chin. Reminding myself it was just a dream, I released a shaky sigh and forced myself to chill out. Yes, it was definitely time to stop watching horror flicks before bed. Forcing the last of the disturbing images from my mind, I turned over and let out a real bloodcurdling scream.
“Jed, what are you doing in my room!?” I gasped. It was the third time this week he’d snuck up on me. Apparently, it was now a special game.
Three-year-old Jed giggled with delight. “Hi, Cassie,” he said, licking a thick layer of green slime from his nose. Even in the dark I could tell the sleeves on his Spiderman shirt were crusty from dried-up snot. “Hey, want to see my new caw?” he said. Jed has a hard time pronouncing his R’s. He removed something from his jeans and lifted it proudly into the air; a small, blue convertible that had seen better days.
“Nice,” I mumbled, plumping up the pillow. “Now…please, go find Kris. You need a tissue.”
Instead of leaving, however, he opened his mouth and began coughing, hurling millions of invisible germs towards me.
I backed away in horror and yelled, “Mom!” Sure, he’s adorable with his big blue eyes and dimpled cheeks, but I’ll be the first to admit; I have a major phobia of germs. My room is off-limits and the daycare kids are forbidden to enter it; especially, the little “germy” ones.
My mother popped her head into my room and cringed. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I didn’t know he snuck in. Come on, Jed, time to clean you up.”
I snorted. “Clean him up? What about my blankets? He just infested my whole bed with his nasty cold germs.”
Jed‘s lower lip began to tremble and his eyes welled up with tears. “Sowy, Cassie,” he whispered.
My heart melted immediately. I reached over and ruffled his curly blond hair. “Hey, it’s okay, Jed. Just cover your mouth when you cough.”
His face lit up. “Huggies?” he asked, raising his crusty arms.
“Um, later, okay?” I replied as I beckoned my mom with my eyes.
She grabbed him and placed him on her hip. “Come on, Jedster. Let’s go wipe your boogies and get something to eat.”
“Thanks. Make sure nobody else waltzes in here.”
She motioned towards my alarm clock. “Hey, Wild One, it is time for you to get up for school. Start going to bed earlier and you won‘t be so grumpy every morning.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not grumpy. And quit calling me that.”
My last name is “Wild” and my family thinks it’s amusing to call me The Wild One, because I was such a handful as a kid.
My mother frowned but left my room without another word. As she closed the door, I could hear the chaos taking place in other areas of the house; kids were chasing each other, someone was screaming about a lost toy, and a baby began to howl. We live in Wolf Creek, a small town in Minnesota, and my mom runs a daycare in our house. What was once a calm home, is now hectic zoo. It was only Monday and I already yearned for the weekend.
I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed my favorite white Henley T-shirt, and a pair of jean shorts, then snuck into the bathroom to take a shower. Unfortunately, I have to share it with the daycare kids, so I have to be stealthy about it. If they realize it’s me in the bathroom, they’ll do things to torture me, like wiggling their fingers under the door, jiggling the knob, or repeating “Wild” over and over, annoying the heck out of me. Today was no exception.
“Enough,” I warned, combing through my thick, dark hair. I pulled it into a ponytail and looked closely at my reflection in the mirror. Brown eyes, pug nose, and extremely dry lips. I rummaged through the medicine cabinet and found some of my sister’s “plumping” lip gloss. I applied it gingerly to my lips and then frowned. Now they looked swollen, like I‘d been punched. I tried wiping it off, but it didn’t help. My eyes widened in shock as they continued to puff out.
Seriously, I thought, why would anyone intentionally do this to their lips? It was embarrassing and my lips were starting to sting.
I threw my hands up in defeat and stomped into the kitchen. To my dismay, I noticed three other kids, sick with colds. They all smiled at me, matching snot dripping from their noses.
“I know, nothing I can do about it, unless they have fevers,” mom replied wearily as she grabbed several tissues and began wiping noses. “Everyone seems to be getting sick with this horrible cold. Some parents even dropped off their kids just so they could go back home and rest.”
“Figures,” I mumbled.
I pulled out my cell phone to check my messages when, Daniel, a five-year-old boy who pretends he’s my shadow, sneezed all over it. I turned to my mom in horror, who winced and quickly handed me an antibacterial wipe.
“Daniel, why don’t you go and draw Cassie a nice picture?” she said, guiding him away from me.
Frantic to escape, I grabbed a cereal bar and my truck keys. “I’ll eat this at school. I‘ve got a karate class tonight.”
My mom nodded and then wrinkled her nose. “Megan? Do you have a poopy diaper?”
I turned and fled the kitchen before I could smell the answer. Just then my dad shuffled by in his robe on the way to his “Man Cave” in the lower level of our home. He calls it his sanctuary from “Daycare Hell.” Right now he looked like he’d just stepped out of Hell himself, with the dark circles under his eyes and hair that stuck up in every direction.
“Hi, dad,” I said. “Let me guess, you were up late again blasting zombies?”
He smiled sheepishly. “Heh. I actually finished the game.”
My dad is addicted to video games. Before I was born, he once spent thirty-six hours straight, playing Everguild, a very addictive Internet game, surviving only on caffeine and buttery pretzels. When my mom became pregnant, she lost her patience with his harmless addiction and brought a group of his friends together for an “Everguild Intervention.” Now he’s only allowed to play games on his Wii or PlayStation, which he has only a slightly better handle on.
“Do you have to work today?” I asked him. My dad sells cars for a living, which isn’t particularly his dream job. Unfortunately it’s something he’s really good at, so although he grumbles about it endlessly, he never changes it.
Darlings of Decay Page 42
