Still Alive Series Box Set, Vol. 2 | Books 5-6

by Bonds, Javan

  ☠☠☠

  “What the fuck was that?” The Oracle looked questioningly at The Protector’s excited exclamation.

  “Ain’t shit to worry bout, cuz.” Easy continued to look around frantically, despite Smokes’s calming words.

  “Is Mo throwing shit onto the deck? The rope ladder is waiting.” The Oracle shrugged and eventually Easy let it go.

  The heavier of the two got a wicked gleam in his eye. “You thank zombies is livin’ dead or UNDEAD?”

  ☠☠☠

  13

  Mo Journal Entry 4

  “I WAS IN the checkout line at the Walmart. The real checkout line. They expect us old-timers to figure out them newfangled, do it yourself things. Frankly, I got too much other shit like remembering to take my heart medicine to worry about. I’d rather let the pretty young girl just out of high school scan my beer and applesauce.

  “So I was standing in line, see, and I saw a few people running into the store and screaming, like they were being chased down. Turns out, they were. Right behind them comes a couple of naked people squinting their eyes. I’d seen the people on the news talking about these infected folks not liking bright sunlight. I was guessing these were them sick people. It was kind of cloudy that day, probably why they could stand being outside at all.

  “Anyway, these naked people were able to see better in the building and got all bright-eyed and bushy tailed, started running up and biting everybody they came across. There was even a little old lady—bout my age—on a walker, the greeter, and one of the damn things took a chunk right out of the back of her hand. One guy was actually trying to fight the things off with a buggy—trying to slow them down. People were climbing the racks, trying to get away from the monsters. I heard a gunshot and saw a fat lady go rigid, grab her chest, and fall over like she had a heart attack. She must have died instantly, collapsing in silence. The fuckers swarmed in and started chowing down before they got interested in the idiot’s running and screaming. I cracked open a beer, watching the monsters chase people as if they was going to rip them apart, bend down to take a bite, and then run away. Some lunatic came over the intercom and started babbling about how this was the end of the world and we should all seek forgiveness. Wonder how that worked out for those retards?”

  My interest was piqued, I wondered if the fact that he was drinking an alcoholic beverage kept the peevies away. Festus stopped to take a breath and I could imagine that he normally had an oxygen mask he would put up to his face after a long bout of talking.

  This guy was old—really old. I’m talking about being one of the first people eligible for Social Security old. I almost laughed when he first started speaking; his voice resembled Herbert’s from Family Guy. I was guessing he was probably older than Mr. Scislaw, the pharmacist I met at the beginning of my first journal.

  Well, maybe it’s not so surprising that I keep running into geriatrics. They survived the depression so I guess this is just another bump in the road. I was willing to believe people of my grandparent’s generation made it, but I could’ve asked this guy about the president getting assassinated and he would think I was talking about Lincoln! Seriously, this dude would call my pawpaw, a whippersnapper.

  And yes, he readily admitted to being named Festus. Why would you do something like that? I would use my middle name! Fuck, now that I think about it, I admit to being named Elmo and going by my middle name, Hoyt, doesn’t sound much more modern. I bet Crow runs into the same issue if she ever tried to use her real name, Rose. People would probably expect her to be an old lady.

  “Most everybody didn’t know what to do when it started; we just stood there in line. It took a handful of people being attacked for the panic to start. People started running from the front of the store and screaming. Eventually people just joined in that weren’t up front and didn’t see the naked attackers, they was just screaming and running because everybody else was. I’d call it a stampede if I was to call it anything.

  “Once people started running and the slow ones got bit, I just took my time and walked out without paying for my Sam Adams and Mott’s. I never found out what happened to all those dumb asses.”

  I was thankful this geezer didn’t get the shakes and put a .357 round in me. Actually, I had talked him down and he told me to come over to his yacht for a little chat. Too bad I didn’t get the chance to tell the Cora of my situation, nor my location.

  Not that any of them gave a shit, I’m sure they didn’t even look over the damn side of the boat to check if I’d fallen to my death climbing the rope ladder. Why were they content to remain docked for so long, anyway? My fucking brother is probably eating all of my pickled eggs! Not because he even likes the things, just out of spite.

  I cocked my head at the senior citizen. “So how did you get here and how are you not dead?” I would’ve been thinking the second half of that question even if there hadn't been a zombie apocalypse.

  His nose whistled as he chuckled. “This is my grandsons’ boat, the Forever Young, and the whole family was planning to go out on the river for a few days when all this shit started happening. We already have food onboard and I had at least a month of all my medications in my room just in case. Now I’m glad I did. I came here when I left Walmart and nobody else showed up. I reckon they all got killed.”

  What a loving way to think about the end of your entire family. Not “maybe they’re still hiding out somewhere” or “I hope to see them again,” just “yeah, them bastards are probably blue, naked, and shitting in the woods.”

  Festus was pretty set up. The old man had a stocked yacht that he can live comfortably on for the remainder of his life. However many more weeks that would naturally be. If you were in your twilight years, would you want to outlive the entire world?

  “Why are you still docked? Why haven’t you gone out into the river?”

  He scoffed, “I don’t know how to drive a damn boat! Besides, there ain’t no reason to go nowhere.”

  I guess that was sound reasoning, he probably didn’t have a destination that required travel. I can imagine Festus and Crow having a lot in common.

  I raised a finger. “You know, I could probably give you a few pointers on driving a boat.” I wasn’t an expert at captaining a vessel, but I could show him how to get it started.

  Another thought came to me. “You want to come with us? You can follow the Cora, we’re going to make our way to the ocean!”

  I hate being the kind of person that is willing to lend a helping hand to the less fortunate. Smokes has apparently turned me into a fucking saint! I didn’t even know this strange old coot and now, I was inviting him for a sleepover. Hell, for all I know he’s got a bunch of women chained up in strange positions down below.

  “It is just you, right?”

  “Yep. Ain’t seen a soul in quite a while. Some guys got on one of the boats up there a while back. But they didn’t see me, sailed off, and I ain’t seen them since.” I was kind of relieved. It’s nice to find out that he’s not a perverted ax murderer after I’ve already offered to travel with him.

  He looked at me quizzically. “Cora?”

  Dear God. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “The Viva Ancora. It’s a replica pirate ship, like the Columbus caravels. You know, the ship I was climbing on when you pointed your gun at me.”

  He brightened. “I thought it looked different than the other boats docked there. I think I’ve seen it before! It’s that boat that goes down the Tennessee, and I think the Mississippi.”

  I could only sigh and nod. “Yeah, we do. I’m the acting captain and was on the crew for about a year before May Day. And yes, you can have a tour.”

  The old man acted surprised. “What the hell is wrong with you, son? The world is over, I ain’t worried about takin’ a tour of no damn wooden boat.”

  If he hadn't been Methuselah and I was female, I’d be swapping spit with Festus right now. I might’ve been too quick to decide this old fart was going to be a pain in my ass
. Maybe we’ll have more in common than I originally thought.

  I spoke with more enthusiasm. “Come over to the ship with me, I need to introduce you to the crew.” I was going to need to radio and remind those sumbitches that I wasn’t on the boat, and tell them I would be bringing a guest onboard.

  “Sounds good to me. I was actually getting kind of lonely.” He leaned in then to whisper conspiratorially. “Got any young blondes?” I was going to have to make sure Sarah didn’t bend over around Festus, he might have a coronary!

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  The old man and I stood next to the rope ladder hanging down from the deck. We watched a peevie, over on another pier, rip a small house cat into pieces. Yellow and green organs spilled out from between the bloodied fingers and made a sickening wet slap as they impacted the ground. The macabre beast greedily swallowed each gushing morsel. It hissed at its zombie partner who attempted to lap up the scraps leaking onto the ground.

  I readied my rifle and Festus cocked his revolver. The undead might decide we were interesting after they were finished bickering over the feast of fresh, raw meat. Thankfully, they were too busy with the food in front of them to worry about us.

  “Crow! I fucking told you to drop the damn gangplank.” I screamed over my radio.

  “I’m busy, white boy! The exercise won’t hurt you.”

  Why, God? I turned from my companion and tried to be covert. “I’ve got an old dude with me and I don’t think he could make it half way up the ladder.”

  She interrupted, “You brought another one of your damn white--“

  “Give Easy the damn radio!”

  She mumbled about “mother fucking white people” before shoving the walkie-talkie to my brother.

  “Have a fun walk?” Easy asked.

  I wanted to make some kind of threat of physical harm against him, but I knew he would just frog punch me, and leave me lying in a crumpled heap. I ignored his question and remained calm. “I need you to lower the gangplank. I’ve got a senior citizen with me.” I knew my sibling’s respect for the elderly would require him to show kindness, even if I took advantage of it.

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  The Expert questioned the guest on his life after the zombies came to town. “And you haven’t seen anyone besides tangos?”

  “Not for a good while. I’ve got enough food that I don’t have to go out around them creatures.”

  I wasn’t sure why Hammer couldn’t believe Festus was really alone. It was easy to see he’s not very personable, probably because he’s old. Plus, he’s just a guy; we’re all wired that way. Well, at least I am, to a point. I only speak when I feel it is required and I don’t care to see anybody most of the time, unless it’s my girlfriend, and she’s naked. Hammer should understand the personality quirk, being with Crow.

  Well shit, I say that “I don’t like talking” in the journal where I endlessly rant about things unimportant. I guess I can cut myself some slack, writing isn’t talking. I never said I don’t like thinking, or recording my thoughts, I do that all the time. I just enjoy my silence. Now, get off my lawn!

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  Festus described his life since everything went to shit and he talked about wanting to join the Forever Young with the Cora. When the crew discovered he couldn't captain a waterborne ship, it was decided that Sanjay would accompany him to his vessel.

  I didn’t know how well that would work out, a geriatric and a minority with a thick accent. Well, it could be worse; he could've been partnered with Smokes!

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  “We’re good to go.” the Phantom on the Forever Young called over the two-way. Our sailing ship used the engine, which Gene had graciously converted to solar power, to do a U-turn and lazily maneuver out of the port. Festus and Sanjay were not far behind on their own yacht.

  We didn’t head out last night as planned; Sanjay spent most of the evening and this morning giving the clueless senior instructions on navigating the waterways. It’s not really a big loss, only one night and a few thousand more to go before we get to Columbus, Mississippi. Easy and Smokes looked over the map several times and decided there was no way to get anywhere close to Tuscaloosa without driving.

  Yeah, we could take the Cora all the way into Tuscaloosa but it would mean traveling down the river a few hundred miles then turning north up another river and traveling another few hundred miles. That’s just crazy! Especially when there’s a highway that runs only seventy miles, straight from Columbus, Mississippi to Tuscaloosa, Alabama. This would be a safer, shorter, and probably faster. Besides who knows what kind of other crazy ‘Bammer’ fans are headed to ‘T Town’ for stupid memorabilia.

  I’ve always thought this whole adventure to get a useless football trophy is beyond pointless, but it’s no skin off my teeth. Besides, if I didn’t agree to take my massive brother to fulfill his idiot goal, I would have been stuck in Guntersville. I couldn’t have convinced Aka to travel thousands of miles without her protector. Plus, I would surely have “accidently” walked-in on her as she SHOWERED.

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  Interlude 2

  It was almost time for my nightly radio chat with my father. Walking to the stairs from just taking a steaming shit, I met The Tech walking below deck. I stopped with my arms at my sides as he met me in the hall.

  I was expecting him to slightly bow as he passed or give me his usual Jedi greeting. He unexpectedly stopped and looked at me. “Wrex.”

  I knew what he was doing. I had seen the YouTube videos of the comical greeting scene between the Krogan and human protagonists from Mass Effect on the Normandy. There are these videos where the two repeat their names as a greeting and a farewell over and over. Yes, I know I’m a geek, don’t rub it in.

  I tried not to smile as I returned with a pathetic attempt at an impersonation of a giant alien lizard. “Shepard.”

  It just happened. I just came out of the closet as a secret geek to the only other person on board that would have a clue what I had just referenced. We both realized at the same moment what had just occurred. A devilish grin broke across his face, and I could see he was about to point and laugh before running upstairs to tell the others I secretly wished my girlfriend was blue.

  Holy shit, I just now realized that both Mass Effect’s Asari and peevies share that skin color. Okay, it is a different tone, but still. And yeah, it kind of would be cool if she were blue and had those hair folds.

  My head swiveled to him as quickly as that of a Geth. Our eyes locked. I knew he knew, and he knew that I knew he knew. My photoreceptors were pleading with him not to say anything to anyone, to keep my dark secret quiet. Our Force auras must have been communicating. The broad smile faded, leaving only a hint of a smirk as he nodded in agreement to keep it on the down low.

  He then turned and continued walking on down the hall. Probably going to make sure his Warhammer figurines remained untouched. I swear I could hear a voice whisper through the invisible Force. “Your secret’s safe with me, my fellow nerd.”

  Slowly turning to make my way upstairs I thought; well, now I know I never need to piss off this particular geek. I’m sure he’s going to save threatening me with letting this secret out when he wants a Back to the Future skateboard.

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  As I made my way across the deck, the setting sun was almost blinding as it reflected off of the river. Stumbling due to the temporary inability to see, I approached the table to find most of the crew already involved in a family chat. Thanks for waiting on me, guys! Can you feel the love?

  I heard my dad over the radio as I drew closer. “And Doctor George? Brother Brown’s wife is a nurse practitioner. She started helping out at the clinic, and people seem pretty happy. I guess she can be The Medicine Man for now.” He didn’t sound pleased as he said this. The fact that The Oracle remained stone faced didn’t make it sit well with me.

  The cardiologist smiled and said something I didn’t catch when Gene emerged from below deck. He came to the table a
t an asthmatic sprint and huffed. “How’s Hunter?” I knew he had been thinking of the boy he had adopted since the death of Georgia.

  My dad came back. “He’s doing really well. Debbie has him talking now. Only tells jokes from Laffy Taffy wrappers.” He groaned. “But at least it’s something.”

  I knew where Hunter got this trait. My mother has always loved Laffy Taffy jokes. She must be saving the Bazooka Joe lines for a rainy day. I’m sure that will get the boy to come out of his shell. Jokes that are not the slightest bit funny to anyone above the age of six, and she can barely tell them without breaking into uncontrollable fits of laughter. Seriously, she is doubled over and barely retaining consciousness when she tells you what kind of birds stick together. “Velcrows!”

  I guess it really is an improvement. The boy didn’t speak after the death of his father, Daniel. When Georgia, his mother, was murdered by The Betrayer, the young boy completely closed himself off from any sort of interaction with anyone. He may only be quoting retarded lines from candy wrappers, but it’s a big leap.

  The Tech almost thanked my dad. “That’s great! Can he tell me one?”

  My dad clicked his tongue. “I’m sure he would. He’s out with Mama feeding the chickens.”

  My eyes grew wide. “What?”

  “I said he’s with Debbie.”

  “No, you didn’t. I heard what you said.” Daddy is only supposed to call my mother Mama when she’s doing something with one of her children. She’s my mama, not Hunter’s! He made a noncommittal noise, and I just let it go. I knew I would never get him to admit what I knew he said.

  I changed subjects. “So what about the girl that went missing? Anything yet?”