The Good, The Bad, And The Undead : A zombie Apocalypse (The Wild Wild Midwest Book 1)

by Gill, Bonnie

  Dean and I get back into the truck. I find it hard to turn the key. It would be so easy just to go inside and let someone else take care of us. Those people inside probably have the same chance of getting overrun as we do. But do I want my safety to depend on someone else? Nope. Not one bit.

  "Raven? Are you okay?" Dean asks. His eyes have a deep-seated worry behind them.

  "Yes."

  "We can come back and stay if you like." He looks exhausted.

  I bet I look tired too. I sure feel wiped out. "No. Let's go home." I press on the gas and head in that direction.

  "Do you want to take a detour?" Dean asks.

  "What do you have in mind?"

  "We can head up to the Home Depot or Menards and pick up a big generator."

  "I really don't think that's a good idea. Those stores are like magnets for people, especially since the power is off. If you want a generator, we can hit up a construction company. They use them all the time on job sites, but I think the noise will draw attention to us. Generators are usually really loud."

  "You're right. I didn't think about that." Dean looks over his shoulder.

  I pull into a gas station. "Let's see if there's any ice left. We'll need it for the ice chests."

  Dean hops out of the truck and opens the metal door to the ice cooler. "Jackpot." He pulls out some bags and tosses them into the bed of the truck.

  I get out to help him. The ice is still frozen and now my hands are too. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure shuffling down the road. It’s a gabbie. "We need to hurry."

  "A few more bags, and we'll leave." He grabs three more bags and places them in the truck.

  I can't wait to get back to the house. I don't feel safe out here. It's as if the gabbies are keeping tabs on us for their next meal. We'll be like meals on wheels. Not my idea of a good time.

  We jump into the truck and drive in the direction of Joey's home.

  The sun is hidden behind gray clouds, and big puffy snowflakes fall from the sky. They land on the road and melt, but the temperature is dropping, so the snow will stick within an hour.

  "This is going to cause a problem." Dean points out the windshield at the flakes.

  I press the gas pedal down a little further. "The morons at the gun store are going to see our tracks. Not only that, but they'll be able to see smoke from the chimney." It wasn't a problem before because the electricity was on. People's heaters were running even if no one was home. Now it'll be like we have a big arrow in the sky pointing to where we're at saying, ’There are people right here. Come and get them.’

  "We may have to leave sooner than we thought. If we don't use the fireplace, the pipes will freeze. It'll be hard without running water," Dean says.

  Now I feel foolish for getting the ice. We'll have a whole backyard we can use as a freezer. "I wish we had a weather report."

  Dean turns on the truck radio. He flips through the stations, but most of them are just static. One of them has a recording of the same warning from a couple nights ago.

  We see zombies along the way shuffling their feet and moving as if in slow motion. "Hey, are those gabbies moving slower?"

  Dean rolls down the window and sticks his head out of the truck for a closer view—like the glass and six inches is going to make a difference in his vision.

  A huge wind gust blasts into the cab, and I shiver. "Dude, close the window."

  He rolls it up. "They’re freezing." If you put a slab of meat out in the ice-cold air, it freezes.

  "Maybe we'll get a break from the gabbies." Hopefully, the crazy gun shop guys will stay inside too.

  We pull into the garage of the two-story house. We'll have to be careful of footprints walking back and forth to the different houses. We won't be able to blame the prints on the gabbies if they can't move.

  Daria opens the door. "We were so worried about you guys."

  We walk inside, and there's already a chill in the house.

  13

  We're all in the living room. Everyone seems to be on edge, shifting from foot to foot and keeping their distance from everyone one else.

  My stomach does a squiggle inside me. "Where's Mrs. Garcia and Ben?" I ask.

  Star breaks the standoff and puts her arm around my back for a side hug. "They wanted to take on a watch shift. We told them what to look for and how to work the handheld radios. We're only giving them a two-hour shift because they do all the cooking and cleaning. It makes them feel like they're contributing."

  “But they're already helping. Taking care of food and supplies is an important task,” I say.

  "It's not that hard to call us if something doesn't look right. By the way, did you notice the gabbies slowing down?" Joey asks. "I hope they freeze. Then it'll be like shooting fish in a fishbowl, but with a magnum.” From the look in his eyes, I can tell he's truly looking forward to gabbie poaching. I don’t get any joy from killing the monsters. I just destroy them out of necessity. Joey? Yeah, I think he's actually having fun, and that kind of scares me.

  "We saw how slowly they were moving on the way home. What are we going to do about the heat? The pipes will freeze, and then we'll have no water," says Dean.

  "Have you noticed that Dean is always worried about the water?" I give him a wink.

  "I've been without, and I can tell you it sucks. I, for one, am not digging any more latrines. I've pulled that duty one too many times in my lifetime." He cracks a grin. It's small, so I know he'll dig a potty in a heartbeat if we ask. He's a good man.

  "Do we take the chance and light a fire in the fireplace? If so, which house? Joey and Vinny's ranch is smaller and easier to heat, and others may not see the smoke from it because it's only one story. On the other hand, with a two-story, we can use the second floor as a lookout, and there's enough room for all of us.

  "How much firewood do we have?" Dean asks.

  "We have enough to last a month with it going nonstop, and there are also two full sheds down the block. This house also has about a cord and a half. Five houses have fireplaces. If we light them all, we can make it look like there are more of us. I also have some claymores and other explosives we can set up at the ends of the streets. If the zombies are freezing, then we won't have to worry about the explosives detonating because of them," Vinny says.

  "What if the soldiers are checking houses?" Star asks.

  My mind goes through several scenarios. "I'll take care of it," I say.

  "Wait. How the hell did you get claymores?" Dean asks.

  "His mom gave them to him as a Christmas present," Joey says.

  "Why did I even ask?" Dean shakes his head and walks away as if trying to get some distance from our goofiness. Deep down, I know he enjoys it. I often worry about him being alone. I know he likes his space, but he used to go home to an empty house every night. He cooked his dinner alone, ate alone, and even watched television alone. I repeatedly told him he needed a cat or something. At least I won't have to worry about that anymore. He's stuck with us all the time now.

  Joey startles me out of my thought and says, "I've seen Raven's arsenal, and I have to say, it's pretty impressive. If we put it with Vinny's and my stock, I think we can take them."

  I give Star a look that tells her she shouldn't have said anything. Sometimes I wonder about her. Right now, she's watching him with an adorning look. Oh boy, she must have gotten over her hang-ups about his mother. I'll have to remind her about birth control. No one needs a baby during an apocalypse.

  She shrugs, "I didn't show him what's in the hidden compartments in the truck," Star says.

  Wonderful, now those two gun-happy maniacs are going to tear my truck apart looking for my stash. "It's nothing special." I try to downplay it.

  "If it's anything like that Milkor M32A1 grenade launcher..."

  I hold up my hand. That’s just what I need, these too doofuses trying to take my toys. "Stop. Someone go get the others. I think we should take a vote on what to do."

  Soon, Ben and
Mrs. Garcia join us.

  "Did we do something wrong?" Ben asks.

  "No, you did great. We're just taking a vote," Star says.

  "Where's Helga?"

  She waltzes in. Really waltzes in, holding her skirt up at the sides and curtsies. She then holds an imaginary partner and spins. Side stepping, she reaches for Dean. What I wouldn't give to see him dance the waltz, but now is not the time.

  "I'll take a rain check," Dean says with such sincerity, if I didn't know better, I'd swear he means it.

  We fill Mrs. Garcia, Ben, and Helga in on what's going on.

  Mrs. Garcia is wearing her winter coat, and it's not really cold in the house. She rubs her mittened hands together for warmth and then blows on them.

  Dean takes a few steps and faces us. "Time to vote. All those for starting a fire, say I."

  Everyone responds, "I."

  "It's settled. We’ll start a fire in the fireplace. What about starting fires in other houses on the block?” Dean asks.

  Everyone votes yes.

  “Let's get things started so we don't freeze," Dean says.

  Ben and Maria head back upstairs to finish their watch.

  Joey and Vinny are assigned to set up the claymores and other explosives since it’s their area of expertise.

  I go into the garage to hunt for my drone. All of my food and camping gear is stacked nicely in the back of the garage by the rakes and shovels. My weapons are off to the side by the riding lawnmower. I finally see the hardcover suitcase where my drone is stored.

  Star joins me. "How come we don't just stay in the ranch and have the drone keep watch?"

  I pull the contraption out of its protective case. I spin the propellers and determine they're all in working order. "We won't be able to keep it charged, even with the solar panels."

  "That makes sense. It's so cloudy," Star says. Northern Illinois can go weeks without a sunny day, and the overcast is so darn dark and depressing. No wonder so many people pay for light therapy treatments in our area.

  I write a note telling the soldiers what's going on and warn them not to come near our street. Hopefully, they will heed our warning since it's for their own good. I attach the paper wrapped in plastic wrap to the drone and take everything outside.

  The snow is two inches deep. The amount is nothing compared to some of the blizzards in the past, but now you can see the footprints and tire tracks in the snow. That’s definitely something we don’t need right now. I place the drone on the ground and pull out my phone. Its battery is over half way charged, so it should work.

  Joey, Vinny, and Dean are crossing the road. After they arrive at the house, they split apart and carry firewood inside. Now it looks like several people live in that house.

  I send my drone up and in the direction of the safe zone. On the screen, the video feed shows a beautiful sea of white. The pines are trimmed with cotton clumps, and it’s hard to tell exactly where the roads are. There are gabbies shuffling slowly, the cold weather taking its sweet time freezing them. I finally see Summer Hills in the distance. Several military vehicles are lined up inside the brick fence. They picked a great area to defend. They've set up two outlook towers out of wood and scaffolding. A soldier stands in each one, armed with binoculars and a rifle.

  One notices my drone and pulls up his gun to take aim.

  I turn sharp right and zoom away to the middle of the subdivision. Several soldiers are talking, and one looks like a General. "Bingo," I say to myself. I bring the mini plane closer and land it three-feet away from them.

  They see the drone land, and the General makes a gesture for a soldier to retrieve it.

  Darn, I wish I had sound.

  The video feed shows it being picked up and brought over to the group. The picture turns sideways and shakes as they remove the note, handing it to the General. After he reads it, he gives the camera a nod, places the drone on the ground, and gives a thumbs up.

  I hit the button for the drone to rise into the air. At least he's not a jagoff. I was afraid he'd confiscate my toy. I fly the drone toward us and see a woman stumbling around outside the gas station where we picked up the ice. She's wearing a wool coat and a fur hat. She's carrying a designer handbag. Wait, I've seen that purse before. It's the lady who brought the BMW into my shop before all this mess started. She snarls at the drone and has blood around her mouth. It looks like I won't be working on her SUV anymore.

  I fly over the streets near ours, and a man and woman are walking at a clipped pace. He looks around and searches the area as if he can tell someone is watching him. The woman is in high heels and dragging a suitcase behind her. She's shouting something at the man.

  I move the drone closer and zoom in with the camera. He looks to be in his late twenties or early thirties, is well dressed, and glares at the drone. Even though he's moving pretty fast, he stops and waits for the woman to catch up to him. I circle the area to see if any others are with them. No one else is in sight, so I fly the drone home.

  "Hey, I've got a couple of survivors two streets over. Should we go get them?" I ask into the radio.

  "You'll give our location away with the tracks," Vinny says.

  I glance up at the dark gray clouds in the sky. "It looks like it's going to start snowing again. I can run over there and bring them back. It's a man and a woman."

  "What if he's one of those guys with the gabbie heads on their cars?" Star asks.

  "I don't think he's one of them. He's nicely dressed, and the woman is in high heels." I hand my drone to Star and grab a hat and gloves. If they're moving at the same pace, he should soon be parallel to us a couple blocks over.

  "I'm coming with you. You shouldn't go alone. It could be a trap," Star says as she fits a hat onto her head.

  We cut through the back yards, cross the street, and then cut through another yard. The couple is a few houses down but moving our way. We hide so they can't see us.

  The man has on a black wool coat and is carrying a leather messenger bag. The woman is wearing a pristine pink coat and white hat and gloves. Who in their right mind would wear white gloves during a zombie apocalypse?

  We move out from behind the bushes.

  He jumps back as if we are gabbies, while she barely notices us.

  "Hello," I say.

  He's cautious and takes a step back, not saying anything, but looking at us as if we carry the plague. The woman slides in closer to him.

  "I'm Raven, and this is my sister Star." I hold out my hand, but he just stares at it. Rude much? I don't even bother with the woman because she's giving me the who-the-heck-are-you-and-why-are-you-talking-to-me look.

  "We belong to a group of survivors. Are you with anyone?" Again, he just stares. Okay, this may have been a mistake. "There's safety in numbers. We have plenty of food and ammunition. There's another group of people in the area. They strung up the sheriff and shot and killed the deputy. There's also a safe zone with the soldiers. You shouldn't be alone. It's not safe."

  "Sorry, I'm Sebastian." He moves his messenger bag to his chest and hugs it.

  The woman tsks, "I'm Jasmine. I'm an influencer." Whatever that is. I must have made a face because she answers the question I'm thinking. "I showcase fashion products and review them on social media.” She gives me a faux smile that brings out the spoiled brat in her. Which makes me want to leave them there.

  "Where are you headed?" Star gives them a friendly smile, like the kind you give to a stray dog when you hold a treat in front of its nose, and you're scared to death he's going to bite your fingers.

  "We left our house because the heat went off. Our car ran out of gas, and then we were overrun by those creatures. My mom was bitten and turned into one. It only took four hours for her to turn into a monster," Sebastian says.

  That’s new. The virus is taking less time turning the ones who are infected. It's mutating. I’ll have to let everyone know. "I'm sorry about your mother. Do you need someplace to stay until we can take you to the safe zon
e?" I asked.

  He gives me a nod. "Yes." His lips are blue and have a slight quiver.

  Star and I walk them through the yards back to the two-story house.

  Dean steps in front of us with a shotgun in his hands. "Who do we have here?"

  "This is Sebastian and Jasmine. They were traveling with his mother, and she didn't make it. We invited them to stay with us until we can take them somewhere else," Star says.

  Dean shakes his hand. "I'm Dean. Let's get you two inside and warmed up."

  Inside, I pour our new guests, and myself, a cup of coffee. It seems we have a pot on the stove at all times since the electricity went off. I'm sure glad I bought that camping percolator. It's perfect for using on the gas stove. The coffee is warm and strong enough to light a fire in your belly. "So, do you live around here?" I sit down at the kitchen table.

  "No. We live in Chicago on the Gold Coast." Sebastian helps Jasmine take off her pretty pink coat.

  “I bet you had a great view of the lake.” That’s where the fancy pants people live downtown.

  They're still standing and holding their coats at the collar, waiting for someone to hang for them.

  "The coat closet is over there." I point at the small closet off the entrance.

  He lets out a sigh and walks over to hang up his and Jasmine's coats. After he opens the door, he just stands there. "Do you have any wooden hangers? I'd hate to have the shoulders in my coat misshaped."

  I raise my eyebrows. Is this guy for real? It's the zombie apocalypse for Christ's sake, and he's worried about his coat. "What you see is what's there. It won't make much of a difference after you get gabbie guts all over it. You have killed a zombie, right?"

  "I've done no such thing." He actually looks offended.

  Jasmine gasps.

  "How'd you survive this long?" I’m curious. I know Maria hasn't killed one, but she hasn’t had to because she has us. Did his mother do all the killing for him? Please tell me he's not one of those momma's boys where she chewed his food for him until he was twelve. Na, she had a nanny do it for her.

  "We stayed inside until we couldn't take the cold anymore. We moved to the truck and were going to fill it with gas, but it ran dry. You know those fuel gauges lie. It said we still had ten miles left. We just sat in the driveway and didn't even drive anywhere."