“Prenatal vitamins,” Darlene says.
“Right,” Tony says, nodding. “Prenatal.”
“Butch Hazard ripped her from my arms. He pointed a gun in my face, pistol-whipped me, knocked me out cold,” Brian says. “Her screams still echo in my head when it’s too quiet. It’s always too quiet.” His hands are shaking.
Herb is now patting him. “There, there,” he says.
Now, the sadness that had settled deep inside of me has caught fire, turning into rage, a boiling rage. Butch Hazard had done the same to me, had ripped someone I loved and cared about from my hands.
“That’s terrible,” Darlene says. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah,” Brian says.
“That son of a bitch has to pay,” I say. I feel a fire in my gut. A great blazing fire of rage. “He doesn’t get an easy way out.”
“Tomorrow,” Tony says. “Until then, sleep. Rest your wound.”
There’s so much adrenaline pumping through my body, I had forgotten about the bullet graze, and the mere mention of it brings me back to earth, the pain revving up from dull to almost unbearable. Tony is right. I have the luxury of a bed, and my fiancé next to me. I have to take advantage of it while I can.
Besides, Norm is tough. Butch Hazard won’t be able to break him as easily as he thinks…at least I hope. And we all know where hope has gotten us so far.
Twenty-Five
I don’t wake to the sounds of joyous stomping on the roof or drunken laughter or clattering dishes, but to the sounds of screams instead. My own demented alarm clock.
The darkness is full, there is no chance the sun will come up anytime soon. It must be three, maybe four o’clock in the morning. I look outside the window.
Hundreds of golden eyes glitter in the yard below me. Maybe I shouldn’t say they glitter, that’s too cute. These are the eyes of the dead, of the rotting bodies. These are eyes that don’t work properly, that can’t see anything besides their next victims — food, flesh, brains.
Darlene stirs out of bed. The covers once belonging to some long-dead person rustling. She wears a shirt that shows her belly button and a pair of panties. Any other time, looking over my shoulder at her as she glides over to me, I’d be in awe of her beauty.
Right now, though, all I can think about is getting a weapon.
They seem to come from everywhere. Zombie after zombie after zombie.
“Oh my God, Jack,” Darlene says. “Am I still asleep?”
I shake my head. I wish we were. I wish this was all a dream.
“Let’s go! Battle stations, people!” Tony hisses from the darkness outside of the door. “They’re coming and there’s a helluva lot of them.”
“Maybe we should let them pass,” Darlene says. Her voice is hopeful, but she knows as well as I know these things never just ‘pass.’ They can smell food a mile away, it seems. I grab Darlene’s hands. They are cold, clammy, and shaking. “Darlene,” I say, “listen to me. There’s a lot of them and not many of us.”
“Jack — ”
“No,” I say. “You can’t cute your way out of this. As much as I hate to admit it, this is the world we live in. And I love you, you know I love you. So much. I would be lost without you. I almost went crazy thinking about you walking around in Woodhaven like one of those…those things.”
“Jack, I’m…I can’t,” she says.
“You have to.”
Brian steps in, Abby on his side. They have just woken up and part of me thinks they might’ve just woken up in the same bed. It’s none of my business, though. Definitely not the time.
“What’s going on?” Brian asks.
“A horde,” I say as I walk over to the chair my pants are draped over. As I’m pulling them up, I give Darlene a look, one that says no more messing around, no more being afraid. It’s time to step up.
That includes me. I am not going to lose another one of my family members.
“Wake up Herb and get ready,” I say.
“I think he’s already up,” Abby says.
I tilt my head at her. “Wait, what? That wasn’t you screaming?”
She rolls her eyes. “Jack, do I ever scream like that?”
I weigh that statement for a moment. No. Abby is one of the toughest gals I know.
“So, yeah, Herb is up,” I say.
“Why don’t we just leave?” Darlene asks. “Get in the car and leave!”
“We won’t make it out there,” I say. “We can’t wade through a sea of zombies, you know that, Darlene. If it was just a few of them, yeah, I’d say we get out there and blow their brains out. But its not.”
“Is it really that much?” Brian asks, still sounding half-asleep.
I point to the window where the snarls of the dead drift up to us like a thick smoke. He walks over. “Holy shit,” he says. “It’s almost as bad as what we saw in Atlanta.”
Darlene goes rigid next to me.
I give Brian a look, one of those Come on, man, really? looks.
He catches the glare and says, “Not bad. We can wipe them out. Easy.” But his voice is about as convincing as you’d think. Darlene doesn’t relax. I shepherd her out of the room and into the hallway.
Tony has his silenced pistol in hand, and his sniper rifle draped over his back at the foot of the stairs.
He is not surprised to see us. His eyes are distant. He is already focused on the impending battle.
I have Norm’s Magnum and Abby has the Midnight Special. Darlene has the Glock, though she will only use it if she absolutely has to.
I wish we had something better. An AR15, maybe…oh, well, I’ve fought with worse.
Tony glances at Darlene coming down the steps with the Glock. “Careful with that thing,” he says.
She looks back at him with a face that says, Really, man? It’s a pure look of disgust, the same look she gave a carny in charge of the milk bottle game at the Cook County Fair after he mocked her. You throw like a girl! It was before she clobbered him in the bridge of the nose with a fastball that would’ve made Roger Clemons envious.
She is a very capable woman, if she puts the fear to the back of her mind.
“I know how to shoot a gun,” she says. “I’m not stupid.”
“Good,” Tony says.
Abby, Brian, and Herb come down the steps after her. Herb is saying something to himself over and over again. A silent prayer, I think.
Creaking from beyond the front door shuts him up, shuts us all up. We hardly even breathe. Boy, it never gets old, does it? No matter how many times I hear those terrible death rattles, the sounds of lungs no longer taking in air, of the oxygen sitting in their throats, I will never get used to it.
“Start barricading,” Tony says.
Abby and I exchange a glance. The darkness is almost total and we barely can see the whites of our eyes let alone the guns in our hands, but we both know barricading is a fool’s game. We both know this from experience. You can’t keep the zombies out. The most you can do is fight or give up, and we damn sure aren’t giving up.
Tony tiptoes around the corner into the living room, Brian at his heel. They make way too much noise as they try to drag something out. I know this because the creaking increases from outside, as if the zombie out there ahead of all its friends is rocking back and forth in excitement. An excited puppy trying to find a way into the overflowing garbage can.
“They ain’t gonna get in, are they?” Herb asks me.
“No,” I say. “We won’t let them in. We won’t let them hurt you.” But if I really believed that I wouldn’t be shaking.
“Promise?” he asks.
“Yes, pinky promise.”
Herb smiles as his massive pinky engulfs mine.
“Now go hide,” I say, then turn and grab Darlene. “You ready?” I ask her.
She doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a long pause while more snarls creep through the cracks in the door. “Yes,” she says. “But only because you got some rest, and because
it gets us closer to Norm.”
I smile at that.
Family is family.
I don’t have to ask Abby if she’s ready. She’s already holding her gun, arms tensed, body in battle-ready position. She, like me, is a zombie slaying professional. We know what is to come. We know no barricade or walls can separate us from the dead.
With Herb behind us, chattering, sticking to the shadows, we move toward Brian and Tony. I am in the lead, Darlene behind me and Abby behind her, almost how we were in Woodhaven as I led them out of the inferno and into Norm’s Jeep.
But this is somehow different. I get a bad feeling about this, like somehow this is just the beginning of the storm and not the end like it was back in my old hometown.
The two get a barricade up fast. They’ve not only stacked the couches, but they’ve also stacked a love seat, a recliner. Tony is working on covering the windows as the glass breaks. It comes from the recreation room. There is a large pool table in the middle, the green felt covered in dust and cobwebs. Pool sticks line the wood-paneled walls, and mounted on these walls are the victims of hunter’s game: deers and bears and some fish.
The window that has broken is one of two long panes of glass, green curtains bunched up on either side. Limbs poke through as does faint moonlight, painting the rotten skin in a pearl-like glow. Broken glass rips down the side of an arm. No blood spills from the wound. Seeing it causes my own blood to freeze up in my veins. I feel Darlene going rigid against me.
Whatever blood is in these zombies has since been boiled out of them by the scorching Floridian sunshine. I see a gleam of white bone. Then I see a face. Long, matted hair frames this face. One eye glows bright yellow, the other is dimmer, almost cataract. I will never get used to seeing this, I will never fully get rid of the fear that comes with staring down a zombie. One that is especially close and ready to eat you.
So I aim the Magnum straight ahead, and squeeze the trigger.
That helps a little.
Twenty-Six
The zombie’s face explodes in a mess of pink and gray brains. The flash from the muzzle lights this up in excruciating horror.
The fear is back. Everything I’ve ever seen in a horror movie or imagined while reading or writing a book goes out the window.
This is real.
This is terrifying.
Once the shot’s echo fades in my head, I hear the faint shrieks and squeals from Darlene.
“Steady,” I tell her. “Steady.” But not even my voice is steady. A deaf person could hear that.
At this same time, the couch and love seat start to shift. There’s more on the front porch now. I know from experience, they can push a door open with enough force. It’s only a matter of time.
“Other side,” I shout to Brian.
“Window’s too far up,” he says over the snarls. “They won’t be able to — ”
“Brian, listen to him!” Abby says.
“If there’s enough, they’ll find a way in,” I say. I don’t say that we have to find a way out.
Two more make their way in through the window. And two more shots sound. One from me, and one from Abby. When I turn to her, my ears ringing, she is still looking at Brian, the gun raised in her hand.
“Brian, go!” I yell. “Before more get in.”
Tony has his back to the barricade on the front door. Above us, over all the racket, the moans and groans, the breaking glass, I hear Herb’s soft and deep cries.
Don’t worry, big guy, we are going to get out of this. Just hold on.
Tony lurches forward. The creak of the door’s hinges come first, then the leaning of the couch and the love seat. The door is locked, but I see the wood swell outward.
The wood starts to splinter. Each crack brings a gasp up from Darlene’s throat, and a skitter in my heartbeat.
As I aim down the Magnum, seeing the sight jitter in sync with my shaking hands, I wonder if it's my fate knocking on the front door.
Twenty-Seven
Darlene looks to me, her big, puppy dog eyes — now even bigger on her gaunt face. They all look to me. I am their leader and they want to know what we should do.
The door is broken open now, and from the wound spills the dead. The moon seems brighter. The room has grown hotter. I smell earth and decay and rain in the air.
There is only one thing we can do, and that’s fight.
“Jack?” Darlene says. “Where are they coming from?”
I have to be strong for this woman who has stolen my heart.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “We are gonna kill them all.”
She grips my hand, her touch like a buzz of electricity both jolting me out of my hopelessness and spurring me forward.
Fight. We have to fight.
“Tony, outta the way!” I shout. And with a slight shove, I guide Darlene toward the steps. “Go get Herb. Abby and Brian, watch our flanks!”
Abby and Brian scurry across the hallway. Abby pauses and her gun cracks. I don’t see the zombie she’s shot, but I hear its lifeless corpse thumping the carpet.
Darlene stands on the steps to the second floor, looking at me differently than before. With a look of admiration, of pride.
I smile the slightest bit, an alien emotion in a time like this, but one I can’t help but portraying. “Go get Herb, Darlene. We’re getting out of here.”
She nods, turns and runs up the stairs.
“She’s right. Never seen so many out here. Something is off,” Tony says.
Damn right. It’s been off for half a year.
Tony has his pistol, and he is not hesitant about the pulling the trigger.
My own weapon shudders in my hands. I feel the power surging through my body.
One zombie’s head explodes, then another, and another.
With our combined shooting, the door completely blows off.
The shots stop, and vibration runs through my hands and forearms. My own wound burns, but I hardly notice it over the adrenaline pumping through my body. The little bit of sleep I got definitely helps.
Behind us, Abby’s gun blasts in intermittent bursts. Brian’s does, too.
There is a pile of dead zombies laying over the couch, which is also riddled with holes. Stuffing floats in the air like summer snow. I smell death, not even the smell of gunpowder can drown that out. There is dark blood splashed on the walls of the earth and mud-color wallpaper. A trail of guts and brains on the ceiling, drops swelling then falling. A pool of red grows larger and larger by the second, not even the hallway runner can absorb all of it.
Inside of my head, I hear this terrible eeeeEeeeee noise that I don’t think will leave me for an hour, hell, maybe even a day. My eardrums were not ready for tonight.
Tony says something to me, but his voice is distant and swimmy. I read his lips, basically, and my brain fills in the rest with a cheap imitation of his gruff voice.
“The path is cleared, let’s get the fuck out of here,” he is saying.
I nod.
“Darlene! Come on!” I shout, or at least I think I shout. Right now, the feeling I’m stuck with is having earbuds in with the volume all the way up while trying to carry on a normal conversation.
Through the hole in the wall, more zombies shamble from the dead grass and crop field. I estimate we have about two minutes before another swarm of them hits the porch.
“The Dodge,” Tony says.
His voice comes to me in waves. Sometimes muted, sometimes really loud. I’m like a frayed A/V cable.
I shake my head. “No, we attack Eden now,” I say. There’s too much adrenaline going through my body to lay low.
“Jack,” Tony starts to say, but is cut off by Herb’s heavy footsteps banging the steps.
Herb has his hands over his eyes, his head slouched. Darlene is behind him, guiding his large torso with her small hand.
“Jack, we are not ready,” Tony says. “We are outnumbered, outgunned, injured…” He is looking at me like the teacher who just
caught you cheating on a big math test. That look of accusation and betrayal.
“I am ready. I am going. You and Brian can do whatever you want. You don’t owe us anything.”
“I’m in,” Brian says. “After what Butch did to my Tammy, I’d go even if the only weapon I had was a fork.” I imagine the adrenaline is pumping through him, too.
Herb peeks out from beneath his hands and nods his head. “I don’t wanna go back, but I will for you, Jack. You protected me from them now I’ll protect you.”
The way he speaks makes me want to cry. Why anyone would do anything for Jack Jupiter is beyond me. So I smile, hoping no one sees the tears brimming in my eyes, and pat him on the back.
Abby is smiling as she says, “You already know I’m in…even if Norm is an asshole. Maybe they knocked some sense into him, and I want to live to see that.”
I chuckle. “Doubt it. He’s stubborn.”
Darlene says, “I go wherever you go, Jack Jupiter.”
Then everyone looks at Tony. His long beard sways as he shakes his head. He sighs, turns toward the bullet-blown hole in the wall and strokes his beard. “Fine,” he says. “Staying here won’t do me no good.”
A smile breaks across my face.
Humanity may be slowly dying, evaporating from the face of the earth, but there’s humanity here, right now, in this shitty farmhouse.
The dead don’t care for humanity. They still come.
Small triumphs are never as cut and dry as they are in the movies.
I am tired, my wound hurts, I am missing my brother, and I am in a strange place surrounded by zombies. Yet, somehow, I am all right. I am with family.
So I lead the way to the outside, through the hole Tony and I made with our guns, and I think to myself that I am Johnny Deadslayer on a mission to save his captured brother from beyond enemy lines.
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