You’re Not Afraid of the Dead, Are You?
Simon Gatkuoth
©2014
Background Image Courtesy Of:arztsamui
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission...
Tom Jackson was sitting on the couch in his two-bedroom house, beer in his left hand, feet rested on the footrest, and eyes glued to the 60-in. plasma screen TV. Sunday night football was on. It was mid-fourth quarter with the game tightly contested. It was a good way to end the long work week for Tom. He took a sip from the bottle.
“Aah, that’s the stuff!” he said.
A knock on the door interrupted the mood.
“Who is it?”
No answer, just more pounding. The knock was a constant slow rhythmic banging. Irritated, Tom got up.
“It better not be those Jehovah Witnesses that were here last time,” Tom muttered, walking eight feet to the door.
Those hags screwed up my day last week. They interrupted me while I was having sex. And I couldn’t get it back up to resume after I had slammed the door in their face. I mean who could? One look at them and it will make any man’s erectile go dysfunctional. They ruined my day. If it’s them again at the door and I end up missing a game changing play, they’re gonna be the ones that’ll need Jehovah after I get through with them. Damn! he ranted in his head.
Tom grabbed the knob, unlocked the bolt, and pulled the door open only to be met by two individuals who looked like they have been wrestling in the mud for hours and then got attacked by a mountain lion afterward.
“Oh great, hobos. At least your not…” before Tom could finish, the one to his left jumped and latched its teeth into his arm.
“What the hell, man!” Tom cried staggering backwards trying to fight off the attack. The second joined in and went for Tom’s face. Tom went down faster than a hooker for a five dollar bill, screaming for help while the two strangers make a meal out of him. Tom heard a loud cheer coming from the TV.
Damn-it, I probably just missed a game changing play, was Tom’s last thought before he faded.
#####
One month later.
Jack Jones heard a shrill scream and craned his neck towards the house.
What was that? He thought. Eh. Probably Jane screaming about shoes with one of her gal pals on the phone or something. If there are two things inseparable in this world, it’s women and shoes. No, it’s women and expensive shoes. No wait, it’s women and expensive things.
With his mind slightly at ease that the scream was nothing serious, Jack turned his attention back to fishing. He was fishing in the small lake, a stone’s throw away behind their cabin at four in the morning. Call him crazy but he finds it relaxing.
Suddenly, Jake came to the realization that it is four in the morning and Jane normally does not get up earlier than nine in the morning. Jake shot up from the docks. Something is wrong, he thought to himself. To confirm his suspicions, he heard another scream. Jake bolted for the house.
#####
Jane Brenneman jolted to a sitting position on the bed. What the hell? she thought. Being a light sleeper, it does not take much noise to wake Jane up from sleep no matter how tired she is. More pounding came from the door. Tired and groggy, she swung her feet onto the floor and got up to see what the noise was about.
“Damn-it Jack,” she muttered sleepily. “Who the hell gets up at the ass-crack of dawn anyways?”
Jane opened the door only to see someone who looked like they had been tied to the back of a truck and dragged for miles.
“Well, someone had a bad night,” said Jane , looking over the stranger. “Can I help you?”
The zombie leaped at Jane and sunk its teeth onto her left shoulder blade and took a bite. Jane screamed like a fat kid that just found out Hostess was going out of business. A high pitched shrill scream. She pushed the intruder off of her and backed up inside while frantically reaching for the door to close it without taking her eyes off the attacker. She grabbed the door and slammed it at the leaping attacker who met the door full-on. She screamed again. The collision sent the attacker stumbling backwards which gave Jane the opportunity to shut the door.
#####
Jack came from the side of the house to the front just as Jane was slamming the door in the face of some guy trying to make his way in.
What the hell? thought Jack as he came to stop.
“Hey!,” he shouted to the individual. “What are you doing?”
The man replied in a grunt. Ten yards away from the guy, Jack approached cautiously. The guy slowly approached Jack in an awkward style of walk before suddenly rushing at him like a linebacker. Jack sidestepped him.
“What’s the problem, man?” Jack asked. “What’s going on?”
The man growled at him.
“Jack,” said a voice behind him. “Get in here, now!”
Jack turned around to see Jane, his girlfriend of six months, imploring him to get in the cabin. The intruder was slowly making his way toward Jack. Jack backed up and then sprinted into the cabin. Jane emphatically slammed the door shut behind him.
#####
“What was that about?” asked Jack. “What’s going on?”
Jane was pacing around in the living room, livid.
“That idiot outside was pounding on the door, waking me up at four in the morning. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he decided to snack on my shoulder when I answered the door. I know I look good enough to eat but to actually take a bite is crazy.”
“OK honey, calm down. If you don’t stop pacing you’re going to burn a hole through the wood or start a fire with all that friction you’re creating. Relax, OK?”
Jane stopped pacing.
“Come here,” Jack beckoned. “Let me see that bite.”
Jane walked over, unbuttoned her nightshirt, and showed the wound.
“Wow, that’s a nasty one. He was either very hungry or he’s on something very strong,” Jack continued.
“He’s probably on acid, bath-salts, or whatever the new drug craze is that all these druggies are on. Did you look at him? He looked like he just barely survived a tornado attack or something,” said Jane.
As they made their way to the kitchen, a sudden pounding on the door made them stop.
“It’s him,” said Jane.
“Wait here,” said Jack, walking to the door.
“Don’t,” she told him. “Just call the cops and let them handle it.”
“I’m a man, I’ll take care of it.”
“Jack!”
“I got this!” said Jack imitating George Lopez, he loves watching and sometimes imitating Lopez even though he was not that good at it.
“That’s a horrible impersonation,” Jane said shaking her head, not impressed.
More pounding was coming from the door. Jack walked over and opened it a little while putting his left foot behind it as a door stopper just in case the guy tried to barge in.
“What do you want, man?”
The guy growled and tried to push his way in, failing to overpower Jack. Jack put his weight behind it and eventually forced it to close. At 5’8” 185, Jack is built like a tank.
“Ooh, look at me. I’m Jack, I’m a man. I take care of things. Watch me take care of it. I got this!” Jane said mockingly. “The only thing you almost got was a scratch to the face.”
“Eh, what do you know anyways. You’re just a pair of ovaries with a ponytail,” Jack fired back, walking over to her.
“Come here,” Ja
ne said seductively.
“What?” he answered.
She grabbed his hand, pulled him towards her while turning her hip to him, and flipped him onto his back. He hit the floor hard, groaning. He loves that about her, how she could be girly one moment and turn into a bad-ass the next. Jack has not come across many mma fighters that could flip the switch like that. Jane has been training in mma for seven months and will take her 3-0 amateur record to the professional ranks in about four months. At 5’5” 145 lbs, she’s a fireball of energy. She is due to start training camp soon.
“You OK?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said.
“You need to work more on being a man then if a pair of ovaries with a ponytail can do that to you,” Jane said with a smirk.
Being a paralegal for five years has not prepare Jack for takedown defenses.
She extended her hand. He grabbed it and pulled himself up.
“Come on, let’s wash out that mess on your shoulder.”
After washing out the wound Jack helped Jane to the sofa. The pounding on the door was still going on.
“Man, he’s still out there. I’m calling the police.” Jack grabbed his phone and flipped it open.
“My phone has no signal. Where’s yours?”
“It’s on the night stand,” she replied.
Jack walked to the bedroom and returned with it.
“No signal either.”
“The itching on my shoulder is more irritating than a yeast infection.” Jane scratched at it. “We need to go to the hospital.”
“Alright,” he said. “You want some coffee before we go? I know how you are before your morning cup of Joe.”
“No. Let just go now.”
“You’re the boss,” he said, grabbing the keys from the table.
“How are we going to get by him? He’s right at the door,” asked Jane.
“My Louisville slugger. And you were giving me a hard time for wanting to bring it,” said Jack. Jane just shook her head in response.
Jack ran to bedroom and returned with the baseball bat.
“Alright! Batter up!” he said as he approached the door with Jane trailing him. He stopped and turned to Jane.
“You got everything you need?”
Jane nodded. Jack opened the door and straight kicked the guy in the chest which sent him backwards, eventually falling on his rear. Jack grabbed Jane’s hand and ran for the truck. Before the guy was on his feet, Jack had started the truck and was backing up through the graveled driveway into the dirt road. He put the gear in D and floored it. Next stop, Council Bluffs.
#####
Jack and Jane arrived in town and it looked like a tornado had ransacked it. They couldn’t believe their eyes.
“This place looks terrible,” said Jane.
“Yeah, for a minute there, I thought we were in some third world place like Zimbabwe, Somalia, or Detroit,” Jack added. He turned left going east towards Mercy Hospital.
#####
Jack parked in the drop off lane since the place seemed deserted. They got out and entered the hospital.
“What is going on? Where’s everybody?” asked Jack, looking around. He guided Jane to one of the seats.
“No receptionist? Wait here, I’ll go find someone,” he said as he went through the green doors.
Five minutes later Jack came back to find Jane facing the TV. She was on her knees.
“Hey honey, I think the place is deserted. There’s no…” he stopped mid sentence at the sight of tears rolling down her face when she turned to him. Jack’s heart dropped. Jane is as tough as they come. Not a lot can shake her or make her cry. They only time Jack has ever seen her cry was when she lost her dad to cancer. So seeing her like this was unsettling for Jack.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Jane did not answer. She simply pointed at the television. Jack walked over and knelt beside her looking at the screen.
Zombie Outbreak, cause unknown, cure unknown were the words written on the screen. Suddenly, the itch on her shoulder was not a big deal anymore.
#####
Jack drove to his house five minutes from the hospital.
“Wait here, I’ll be back.”
Jack returned two minutes later with a pump shotgun in tow.
“What the hell!” Jane exclaimed. “You had a shotgun in the house and didn’t even let me know? Didn‘t you think I needed to know that piece of info?”
“I’m sorry, I meant to tell you.”
“When?” she asked.
“Let’s not get into it right now. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do.”
“We’ve got to go to my sister’s. I hope those things didn’t get her and her son. We’ve got to make sure they’re OK then we’ll go from there.”
“We’ve also gotta find a working phone. I need to know if my family back east is safe.”
#####
Jack tried to navigate over the aqua-duct without any luck. Too many cars left in the middle of the bridge to go around.
“Back up and use one of the lesser used roads. I’m sure we can find a way around.”
#####
Dave could not believe his roommate was trying to eat his face.
“What the hell, bro. There’s some Ramen Noodles in the cupboard there if you’re hungry.”
John just growled in response.
“I’m sorry I ate the last burrito, alright? Chill out, man.”
“What a minute dude, did you turn into one of those things? Holy shit, man.” Dave scrambled to create distance between him and his zombie friend.
Dave and John lived on a 3rd floor apartment. When the zombie apocalypse hit when were forced to stay inside the apartment. John did try to get out when the shit hit the fan but was forced to retreat back into the apartment after he narrowly escaped an attack. Little did he know he was bitten in the process.
Dave ran out of the apartment and down the flight of stairs. He got to the bottom and saw through the window zombies outside the building.
“Oh hell!” Why me!?”
Inside, his zombie friend was trying to eat him. Outside, zombies were meandering around looking for their next meal. Dave hoped that it was not going to be him. He gave it some thought and concluded that he stood a better chance in the open than in close quarters with a zombie. Taking a deep breathe he pushed opened the door and stepped outside. Maybe he’ll run into someone.
The whole world couldn’t have turned into zombies. He thought.
#####
Dave ran down to the corner of the street.
Damn! Zombies!
The zombies caught his scent and shambled his way. Dave retreat backwards not taking his eyes off the zombies as they crept closer. The scent draws them to their victim and the stronger the scent, the more feral and faster the zombies get. Capable of running down a person. He figured the best thing to do is run. He made his way across the street. There was a stalled short bus in road. As he made his way around it, he bumped into a zombie. Dave fell down and the undead collapsed right on top of him ready for a bite.
“Get the hell off me, you’re slobbering on me. Damn!”
He pushed the zombie off of him as the rest converge on him. He scrambled to his feet and ran like hell. Dave looked down at his shirt full of zombie drool.
“Man, I just had this dry-cleaned last week. It’s bad enough these stupid zombies have to mess up the world but why my shirt as well. That’s just crossing the line,” he said aloud between breathes.
“This is the kind of thing that’ll make you put a bullet into a zombie’s head.”
He cleared the block and came onto another street and kept running.
#####
Jack had to slam onto his brakes hard to avoid making some idiot who ran in front of his truck from becoming a victim of road kill. The sudden stop caused Jane’s head to smack against the dashboard. She started to see stars.
“Are you alright Jane? Jane?” Jack shouted. He put t
he car in park and unbuckled his belt.
“I’m fine, just a little bit dizzy.” she answered.
Pissed off, he pushed open the car door.
“Are you kidding me?
“Sorry, man. You’ve got to help me. They’re trying to eat me.”
“Who?”
“The zombies, man. There’s a horde of them coming this way,” said Dave.
“Jump into the truck bed,” he told Dave. Dave gladly did.
“Uh, Jack?” said Jane in a panicky voice. “The truck shut off.”
“What?”
Jack jumped into the truck and keyed it. The engine would not turnover.
“Why won’t you turn, you piece of crap!” Jack said, frustrated.
“Guys, we’ve got trouble.” Dave pounded on the top of the truck. “Get going, please.”
“Stop it!” Jack yelled. “What you’re doing is not helping.”
Finally the engine came to live and Jack quickly threw on his seatbelt. Some of the zombies slammed onto the side of the truck. Jack put the car back in a gear and slammed his foot down on the gas. The truck squealed and fishtailed before righting itself as the trio left the zombies in the dust.
Dave was holding on for dear life. He was caught off guard by the sudden jerking of the truck as he tried his best to not fall of the bed of the truck.
“Where are we heading?” asked Dave.
“Omaha,” Jane answered.
“No can do,” he replied. “They blew up the bridges, man.”
“What? Who? What are you talking about?” asked Jack.
“The military, dude. They blew up the bridges. We’re lock in east and west. They blew up bridges on the Mississippi and Missouri to stop the spread of the disease, man. We can’t drive through to Nebraska or east to Illinois. We’re blocked in. We could go north or south, unless you’re willing to swim across the Mississippi or have a boat to use to cross. But than you don’t know what’s waiting for you on the other side.”
You're Not Afraid of the Dead, Are You? Page 1
