Zombie Paradise Lost: Still Alive Book Six

by Javan Bonds

  Suddenly, Kumar screamed. Hammer and I, shoulder to shoulder in stride, turned. A completely uninjured zombie was charging in our direction. Did it just pretend to be dead until no one was looking?

  The Expert stepped in front of me, leveled her pistol, and squeezed the trigger.

  It clicked.

  "Jam!"

  No shit.

  We backed up towards the Cora. I suppose I could've handed my bat’leth to her and let her finish the job. She could’ve gotten behind me. But really, what would I have done? It would've just knocked me over to get to her. Why the hell didn't I just use one of my guns?

  The two of us continued moving backward. The Expert nearly stood with her back against my chest. The animal coming at us was not much further from her front as she was from mine. It was about to bite her and nothing could be done.

  In the blink of an eye, some kind of shaft drove itself into the beast just behind the left collarbone. It continued driving down into the meat of the creature's abdomen until the animal collapsed. After a second, I realized what the shaft was, an arrow. You gotta be fucking kidding me!

  Looking back over my shoulder, I could only gape. There stood Crow, on the deck of the boat holding my bow, as if she had just fired it! Her stance immediately explained that she knew how to use it. Yes, that bow. Remember the one I carried at the beginning of my first journal? It had stayed leaning against the wall in my room since I had gotten back that first day with The Expert, The Old Friend, and The Tech as newly acquired crew members.

  Momentarily, I was offended that Sarah let her into my room to get the damn thing.

  Then it dawned on me! With the two of us backing up so fast, she had to be aiming where I was just standing when she launched the arrow! That means if I had paused for just a moment, it would’ve hit me. What the fuck?

  “Since when can you do that? I think you should start being a candidate for Aka’s bodyguards!” I yelled up at her.

  “Listen, white boy. I was just doing it for Pet! Your motherfucking - ass can get bit for all I care.”

  I bowed theatrically to her. “Well, thanks. I love you too.” Her reaction was to scoff and walk off while mumbling something about motherfucking white people.

  I spoke low to The Expert. “Did you know she could do that?” She shrugged and shook her head.

  By this time, Storm and the Clone Trooper HIT were approaching. I waved. “Good to see y’all. Thanks for showing up!”

  My sister-in-law looked like she was about to respond. Before she opened her mouth, she must have realized she was about to speak to a pervert not worthy of hearing her voice. I looked over to Kumar who only shrugged. The Screenwriter made sure everything worked out, so I suppose there wasn’t really anything to say.

  I turned around again to face the Viva Ancora. “Ah well, let’s go home!”

  7

  Wait and See

  The target was not on the ground. Even though there was a pathway extending down from the floating construct, the female wasn’t going to try it. There was thoughtless, and then there was just plain stupid. It wasn’t either.

  Pale ones in their armored shells came out of a cave, slowly making their way to the construct. A multitude of fellow blue ones came bounding out the cave, obviously attacking the shelled creatures. Though they outnumbered the pale ones greatly, they were still being held back. The prey was fighting the blue tide and defeating the predator.

  One of the pale ones was not inside and protected by one of the armored shells they covered themselves in. It was not on the floating construct and stood alone on the ground. The peevie formerly known as Warden Slice contemplated the possibilities. It was immediately decided attacking this pale one would be a waste. It didn’t appear to have any type of defense, but being so close to the floating construct, it would only have to call out for assistance. Even if an attack was successfully completed, what came after would most likely not be pleasant. Hunger was insatiable, but it could be sated once Ezekiel Collins was within reach.

  Suddenly, objects started flying from the construct and landing in the midst of the blue ones. Fire from those boomsticks also came in rapid succession. Violent explosions bloomed and destroyed the attackers. Screaming of fellows and gory scenes of death were everywhere. It is a good thing that the peevie Slice decided to wait and see. The target would soon be vanquished. All your bones belong to us.

  8

  The Queen

  Hirotaro Sako survived the end of the world. Being prepared for disaster is what kept the former Marine, and his family, alive. To be honest, they weren’t expecting the end to come as blue, naked cannibals. The death toll of modern society sounded quickly, with nothing more than a sigh of relief and the proverbial whimper of acceptance. Some would’ve called his preparations “crazy prepper paranoia.” Those people were now yellow-eyed monsters, shitting in the woods. His just in case preparations had kept his family comfortable as much as you can be while surviving solely on freeze-dried food and bottled water.

  Over a month of laying low had driven the inked up Staff Sergeant nearly stir crazy. After a quick recon of the area, he discovered no boarded up windows. He had found only a smattering of evidence of a few gun battles, but very few holdouts: certainly no holdouts that appeared to be friendly. It was as if no one had prepared, but simultaneously was overtaken before they realized they were under attack. Willful ignorance, sheer refusal to admit something was coming. It seems to have been a complete denial that disaster could strike. They had been dependent on luxuries believing them to be their salvation, when in fact it was their downfall. They were kept preoccupied and distracted so that there was never any time to prepare.

  It had made him angry before the shit hit the fan. He and his family had prepared, and they had survived. The people that didn’t prepare, well most had succumbed to the apocalypse.

  Reaching out only a little further led to the discovery of an organized encampment of survivors. People that wanted to live, and actually help others to survive this new torturous existence. Hirotaro felt lucky to have found a group that had their act together. Comrades of the same mindset. Birds of a feather.

  ☠☠☠

  When meeting with the leader of this enclave, Sako offered his services as a former detective and Marine, to the island. After being given a house for his family, he knew the only honorable thing would be to give his skills freely. These people would not only offer community and a sense of comradery, but the closest thing to normalcy he could hope for his family. This Mayor Collins seemed like a pretty down to earth guy.

  He smiled as their initial meeting drew to a close. Mayor Collins thumbed over his shoulder. “Well, if you’re helping us out, you'll need a uniform. I’ve got something that should work.”

  Hirotaro nearly gasped when the mayor opened a small closet. A brown trench coat, matching Fedora, gloves, and a folded white mask hung on the rack.

  “Rorschach!”

  Some might not recognize the underdog protagonist from The Watchmen, but Sako found the patriotic hero iconic.

  The mayor grinned. “Fitting for a detective.”

  ☠☠☠

  Things were pretty easy for the Guntersville Police Department. No violent crime, no massive peevie assaults, and no runaways, meant protecting and serving were not difficult demands asked of the newly relocated detective. That is, for the first few days Staff Sergeant Sako was on the job. It wasn't long however, before the children begin to disappear.

  It seemed his initial thoughts about this job of a do-nothing cop became something more when a girl was reported missing. She hadn’t seemed unhappy and her parents had no clue as to why she might have run away. Sako was tasked with questioning the parents of Tommi Lea Jones first.

  ☠☠☠

  He took a knee, examining the four sided sandbox in the front yard of the Jones’ home. Toys and evidence of their recent use as well as the sandbox were immediately apparent. There were now countless sets of shoeprints all arou
nd the sandbox and back yard. With all of the people looking for the girl, these would be of no use. The detective glanced up at the house next door. It looked occupied, but there was no sign of children living there. She wouldn’t have been running off with the neighbor kids.

  The girl’s mother was a nervous wreck. “I don’t know why she would’ve just took off! Maybe her and her friends wanted to go back and explore more at the Baptist Campground.” The missing girl had tagged along with her parents and a group of church members that saw fit to search the area for anything initially left by the first scavenger teams. She continued speaking on any information she might have about her daughter's disappearance. The more she talked about their scavenging trip yesterday with Brother Brown, the more she was convinced that had to be where the girl was. “I’m positive. There’s nowhere else she could be. She has always liked exploring. I can't explain it detective. This time is something different. I just know she is in trouble.”

  The Staff Sergeant instantly agreed. Though unsure of the girl's whereabouts, he knew a mother’s instincts were usually right. But even when they weren’t, you’d say that they were, or you’d get a tongue lashing.

  The campgrounds were North of Buck Island. If the girl and her co-escapees went there, the guards on the causeway had to have seen them. The watchmen obviously wouldn’t have allowed unprotected children to leave the island completely alone. Wouldn’t they have reported the sighting?

  Sako set up teams to search the area around the missing girl’s house and then he and Phantoms headed north toward the campground.

  ☠☠☠

  The Enclave soldier leaned against the aluminum railing at the edge of the road. “Nope. Nobody's been by here.”

  “Maybe they had a submarine!” the medieval knight chuckled from the guard shack.

  Sako sighed. “All right, guess I’ll keep looking.” Walking away, he turned back and made an addition. “Oh, and keep up the good work!” It never hurt to boost morale.

  ☠☠☠

  Outfitted as a Clone Trooper accented in black, Mahatma Doshi sat behind the steering wheel of the Humvee. His weapon of choice, the bhuj, a recurved blade on a thick haft of solid steel, was clipped to his waist and rested against his armored thigh. Bumping down the dead end road that led to the Marshall County Baptist Campground, he could feel the breeze coming off the water beyond the trees along the right hand side of the road. Having relaxed for days, The Phantom was ready for action.

  Had it been a week since the battle with The Villain? The surviving U.S. Army soldiers surrendered and swore allegiance to Guntersville, supplying much welcomed firepower. The survivors in the safe haven were happy to see uniformed soldiers keeping them safe. The island was protected from all invaders. Paradise could not be lost under such protection.

  Two of The Phantoms, Kumar Jindal and Sanjay Patel, accompanied Dr. Philip George and the rest of the main protagonists on their quest to locate the alleged cure for the zombie plague. Mahatma Doshi and Rajesh Mattu were the remaining Phantoms in Guntersville left to protect and serve the people. After the defeat of the insane, former U.S. Army officer and his company, the most strenuous task of the remaining HITs had been routine patrols down the streets of a paradise.

  When a child was reported missing, the NSG HITs nearly jumped at the opportunity to be involved in a serious investigation. They were teamed with the Japanese born, former Marine, Hirotaro Sako. Professionals, the three were sure to find clues of what happened to the little girl.

  Rajesh Mattu stood ready behind the mounted .50 cal. His trishula, a traditional Asian-Indian melee weapon similar in appearance to a Trident, was obligatorily strapped over his shoulder. A significant difference though between a trident and Rajesh's family heirloom, was the three barbs were also double-sided blades. As opposed to simple barbed hooks or sharpened points. Death would be served at least three times over per strike landed by this beast of a weapon.

  With dark trees lining both sides of the road, attack could come at any moment. Mattu, the Clone Trooper accented with green, was scanning the dark tree line, prepared for any would-be charging blunatics. Finally, they arrived at the entrance of the campgrounds with the gates standing wide open.

  The Marshall Baptist Campground was only a few miles north of Guntersville Island, on the eastern side of US Highway 431. It was at the end of a small peninsula and held cabins that could house several campers. Looking around Hirotaro thought. This camp would be a prime location for resettlement. That is as soon as peevie migration permitted.

  Sako pointed, and Mahatma turned the wheel to the right. That’s where the search would start. The dock and the large gymnasium probably wouldn’t hold nests, and won’t take as much time. The search had to begin somewhere. Eventually, the cabins would need further investigation. There might be clues, peevies to kill or even full-blown hives in those buildings.

  ☠☠☠

  As expected, most of the larger buildings were empty of anything other than a coating of peevie manure. Even the campground director’s house was empty of anything living, or unliving. Hugging every corner and rolling through every door proved to be nothing but an exercise in futility and shit. The buildings surrounding the in-ground-pool were obviously empty. The other buildings were built to hold groups of people for summer camps and retreats. These smaller one story cabins were made to last. These were the perfect location for a hive. They had to contain some excitement and action. The audience demanded blood!

  There were footprints on the sidewalk leading to and from the front door and even some leading around the building to other entryways. Some of the prints were bare, proving what Sako expected. But some of the footprints were human, obviously, shod in boots or sneakers. Various sizes indicating individuals of all ages had been through here recently.

  Though the shoe prints led to the door as if a scavenger attempted to scout the building by sticking their head in the doorway and perhaps calling out, it didn’t seem as though humans had actually entered this building. At least, not willingly.

  There was aged, crusted, and still reeking shit splattered around the entrance to the building.

  In his mind's eye The Staff Sergeant could picture a peevie walking to the door, opening it, and entering its lair. Exposing a gut wrenching odor trapped inside the sealed door, along with the cloying darkness.

  Was it grasping something? Perhaps a meal? A small, still living human? A little girl?!

  Rorschach retrieved the black and white hood from within his coat and slid it over his head. This potential crime scene, needed to be investigated.

  Holding his pistol with his free hand he gently twisted the unlocked knob enough to unlatch the door. As he pulled his katana, Ivory, from its scabbard, he could feel the adrenaline pumping. The Phantoms stood behind him with submachine guns at the ready.

  Rorschach put a foot against the door and thumbed the light on the pistol. He kicked open the door so forcefully it bent the hinges back. Rolling into the room, he shined the light on every bed. From an aerial view, this circular room had bunk beds lining the wall and the double layered stack of mattresses in the center. Doing a quick search around the entire room Sako found nothing but piles of feces swarming with flies. But no peevies.

  There was a sense of longing for combat in the detective’s voice. “Clear!”

  The HITs also quickly completing their search of the adjacent bathroom came out and stood at attention. “Nothing, sir!” One of them reported.

  Feeling defeated, Sako’s shoulders slumped. One more cabin to search. Preparing for action, only to be faced with nothing was a huge letdown. There was always a chance for a brawl through the next door, around the next corner. Holding out hope, Hirotaro shook off his negative demons and moved to the next building down the sidewalk.

  ☠☠☠

  Pounds of caked up dried diarrhea surrounded this door. Fresh, oozing tar-like shit coated what looked to be over a month’s worth of zombie sewage. Eureka! The three detectives
were confident they hit the jackpot. Today wasn’t going to be boring after all.

  Hirotaro stepped to the door and prepared just as he had done at the previous cabin. They could hear something that sounded like a frightened inhalation when he grabbed the door. When Rorschach pushed in, the heavy metal door only moved a few inches. Something was wedging it almost closed. What the fuck? The walls on the inside appeared like the rest; blackened with feces, even covering the window.

  Beyond the door, they could hear hissing and frantic squealing. The hosts of the party just realized guests had arrived! The HITs backed away with submachine guns pointed to either corner of the building. As almost an afterthought, both of them turned and shot out the visible windows along the top of the building. Now though, the revenants would be able to enjoy the new skylights! If anything lived long enough.

  While sunlight never burned them like classical vampires, UV rays at one time, irritated peevies’ eyes. They had become tolerant of daylight a month from May Day. While the blunatics may now be tolerant of the bright sunlight, they still weren’t fans of it. Zombies, it would seem preferred to be lethargic when exposed to sunlight — seeking cloudy days and shaded areas to do most things outside now.

  A piercing cry sounded through the windows as a multitude of peevies tried to cover their eyes and all hide from the evil, bright ball of fire in the sky. Every undead available for this battle, even the ones still hunkering in the enclosure, just got a taste of Sol. The monsters that were willing to come out to play and face the bright daylight met with The Phantoms’ automatic bursts of lead projectiles rocketing to them at several hundred feet per second.