Z Notes | Book 1 | Z Notes

by Lilly,Shawn L.

  “Find anything upstairs?” asked Frank, not bothering to look up from what he was doing.

  Matt held up the baseball bat. “Just this.”

  Frank looked up and gave a half smile and a nod. “What was that sound from up above in the master’s room?” asked Frank. “Sounded like a thud. Was it the bat?”

  “Yeah, it was behind some boxes. It fell as I pulled them away from their hiding spot.”

  “Bet it scared you, didn’t it?”

  Matt looked up shocked and pissed. “No, as a matter of fact it didn’t. I’m not a pussy.”

  But by the look on Matt’s face, Frank could tell he was lying. “Sure, so what were you saying about company?” asked Frank, zipping up his bag and standing up.

  Matt had almost totally forgotten about the crowd of dead coming their way. With the bat falling and then dealing with Frank’s smartness to know it all, it had slipped his mind.

  “We have a crowd of walkers coming this way. They must have heard the screamer and are close.”

  Frank’s smile was gone along with most of his color.

  “Just how many are we talking about, Matt?” Frank asked, his voice a little shaky.

  “More than you want to know, Frank.”

  Frank didn’t waste time. Turning around he headed for the back door and unlocked it. Pulling the door open, he could see the yard was surrounded with a tall wooden fence. But fenced in or not, a crowd of the undead could knock it down in a second without a fuss. So there wasn’t much time to play around. They had to leave, and they had to go now.

  Matt took a look around and was thinking of a way out. But Frank had beaten him to it and was already moving to their escape route out of the yard. At the back of the yard, there was a dog house. The chain was still intact, but the dog was gone. Frank could care less about the dog. He just didn’t want one that was affected coming up from behind him and attacking. With one quick run of his eyes, he scanned the yard and saw nothing hiding. Even the fence was intact. So if the dog isn’t here, the owners of the notes must have taken him with them, thought Frank.

  At the back of the yard, Frank was pulling the dog house close to the fence to give them a leg up and over it. Matt was first, tossing his bag over and then the bat he found. There was a loud splash as it hit the other side. Matt looked at Frank in a “What the hell was that sound?” look. Climbing up he could see the other yard had an in-ground pool and the bat was now inside it floating toward the middle. Matt cursed himself for not looking first and then climbed up the dog house and leaped over into the yard. Frank was only seconds behind him almost landing on top of Matt. Matt looked around and found the pool skimmer lying next to the back door. Running over to it, he scooped it up and took off back to the pool to retrieve the bat. Frank was stacking up lawn furniture to make the climb over the next wall easier.

  Frank was now finished and waiting on Matt to stop playing around and get a move on. But the bat seemed to be eluding him with every reaching try.

  Matt was at the verge of tipping over into the cool water the further the bat had gone out. Matt came with the idea to scoop the water toward him to make some kind of vacuum. After a couple, it seemed to be working, and the bat had stopped and was now very slowly coming to him.

  “Come on, Matt. Leave it. We don’t have much time,” called Frank from the makeshift stairs over the fence.

  “I almost have it. It’s…just…there…one more…time. Ah, I got—”

  But before Matt could finish, a high-pitched scream sounded off from behind him. Matt froze and looked up at the house behind him. In the second floor was a balcony with a sliding door. The door was open, and on the ledge was a female screamer. She must have heard the splashing sounds and came looking. Her voice sounded like it echoed all over. But as soon as it started to scream again, it stopped and was all quiet. Matt looking back as soon as she started to scream saw it all.

  Frank waiting for him to hurry heard the creak of wood and looked up. But he was a little too late, and she let out her gut-reaching howl. Frank reacted as quick as he could and leveled his homemade spear and launched it up at the undead alert system. It had hit her in the eye socket, and she had toppled backward, dead.

  “Holy crap, Frank,” called Matt. “That was a wicked ass shot.”

  “I was aiming for her loud mouth, but I’ll take what I can get,” replied Frank, smiling. “That just means I lost my damn spear. Crap! I loved that thing too.”

  Matt turning back around found the bat was still in the skimmer net and pulled it to him. Once in hand he ran over to Frank, and Frank gave him the nod to go on over. Matt grabbing his bag went to toss it over but stopped and climbed up and looked over first this time. The next yard was empty of water and also had a chain-link fence easy to jump. Tossing his stuff over, he jumped over and hurried out of the way for Frank. The next couple of yards were easy, and they made their way over them without a fuss. Now at the last house, they could see the street, and just over the fence was a walker looking right at them. Matt watched it growl and snap at them even though they were nowhere near it. Matt handed the bat to Frank. Frank moved close in on it from one side and Matt from the other side. The undead didn’t know which one he wanted. It snapped at them both and then leaned over and started to fall into the yard.

  Frank was on him in a second beating his brains out with the bat. Matt jumped over the fence seeing the job didn’t need another hand and had a look around. Down the street to his left was several undead walking toward him. As none were running, he felt good enough that none were sprinters. Frank leaped over next to him and saw what was to the left, so he turned right.

  As they edged up to the side of the house, Frank looked over the side and down the street. The crowd was now at the house where the screamer was killed by the pool. Frank leaned back in and shook his head.

  “What is it? How many do you see out there?” asked Matt.

  “Put it this way. There are so many I don’t even see the cars on the street anymore. Also, they have made it to the pool house.”

  Matt knew it was only a couple of houses away from them. And from the sounds of it, there were way too many to fight. So their only option was to hightail it out of there.

  Frank went to take off, and Matt stopped him and pointed at himself and then at Frank. This indicated that he wanted them to run together and not one at a time. Frank nodded and held up his hands to count it down.

  Three fingers held up.

  Two fingers held up.

  One finger held up.

  Holding their breaths they sprinted across the street not daring to look over at the crowd or behind them. They ran as fast as they could, and by the time they reached the other side, they were out of breath a bit and still nowhere near out of the clear.

  Breathing heavily they made it little ways more down the side street up to the next block. There were walkers on this road on their right and left. But there were good ways from where they were about to cross. Matt looked back and saw Frank give him the ready nod, and they took off once again across the street.

  They ran about four blocks before they came to a business center, or what this town called a shopping center. An alley stood just ahead of them. It seemed to zigzag, so there was no telling where it led out or what was down in it.

  Before Matt could reach a decision, he could hear fast footsteps coming up from behind him. He shot a backward look from where they just came from and saw two undead runners sprinting toward them as fast as their rotten legs could go. Matt got ready for a fight, but Frank was already pushing him in the back toward the alley and forcing his way right behind him.

  The alley zigzagged to the right and led them to a couple of dumpsters and back doors to the stores. There were wires too high to reach running from wall to wall of the sidewalls of the alley. There was still trash in the bag laid out all over the place. Someone kicked it open, and its contents spread all over. The smell was almost as bad as the undead.

  Matt, being
the first to start walking, started gagging and covered his face with his arm. Frank on the other hand seemed not to be bothered with the foul odor of the rotting trash. He knew they couldn’t linger forever here in this lovely new area they had found. They both needed to find a place to hide and fast.

  They both could still hear the sound of the footsteps approaching close toward them. In this alleyway it seemed the footsteps echoed all around them, so there was no telling how close they were now.

  Matt grabbed Frank with the arm he wasn’t using to cover his face and pointed toward a dumpster. Frank looked to want to cry “You have to be kidding me.” But he acknowledged with a shake of his head and was the first to grab the edge and pull himself up and over and inside. Matt was close behind his friend and landed right beside him.

  Matt felt the whip of air rush past his face and up into his nostrils. It wasn’t till he saw what rolled off the top of one bag and landed on his lap did he turn his head and blow chucks all over the sidewall.

  It was an arm of a dead guy. It had the look as if it had been chewed off, and the bone had marks upon it.

  Frank reached into his bag and pulled out two bandanas and gave one to Matt. Matt gave a silent thank you and tied it up around his face. Frank having his already reached over and picked up the arm and tossed it over the dumpster’s edge and heard it flop on the ground outside. The sound of it hitting the ground almost made Matt give out again. But before he could give it a second thought, the sound of running came loud and then suddenly stopped just outside their hiding place.

  Matt looked up and saw he had forgotten to pull the lid back down to conceal them within. It would only take the monsters on the other side to smarten up and look over, and it could be an even nasty event on an already bad day.

  Matt and Frank sat there on the rotten trash listening to them pace all around grunting at each other. The dead seemed closer to their hiding place than they liked. On occasions they would bump into the dumpster and it would shake. Matt held his breath and strengthened his grip on his machete handle. Matt kept flexing his hand every second he could to keep the blood flowing within it. When he couldn’t hold his breath anymore and just felt like jumping out and hacking away, the movement stopped. Matt and Frank focused their eyes at the dumpster’s edge and watched and waited.

  A hand grabbed the edge and gripped it tight. Its fingers were mangled, and one or two were broken and pointing at different directions. It seemed all the fingernails were missing along with some of the skin. Some kind of green fluid covered the hand and was running off into the dumpster’s inside wall. Matt glanced at his friend and knew they were both ready to at least take this one out.

  Then came another sound of eating which soon vanished, and the sound of a scuffle came on the other side. It seemed they were in a fight for a meal. Frank slowly rose up and had a look over the edge and lowered himself back down. Matt looked over and mouthed “What’s up?” Frank pointed to his arm and gestured a tossing motion over the side. Matt knew right away it was the dead arm that was in his lap Frank had tossed over.

  Well that should keep them occupied for a while, thought Matt to himself. Now it was time to think of a way out of this mess and out of this infested town. It seemed funny now being trapped in this overgrown trash can. Only an hour or so, they were trapped in a house with undead knocking at the door.

  Matt thought he could just stand up and get in a lucky swing and take one out and get the other while he tried to get over the edge and inside with Frank and him. But what if he missed? This hiding place was too narrow to fight in without hurting each other. So what was he to do, stay there and wait them out or take action?

  But his thoughts came to a stop once again when the sounds of eating had stopped and were replaced with the sounds of running and growling. Frank reached over and grabbed Matt’s arm and shook his head. Matt was about to take a look like Frank did a few seconds ago. But Frank seemed to have known what was making that sound and knew better for them to stay undetected for a bit longer.

  The sounds of growling and moaning came loud to them as echoes bounced off the alley’s walls. Then before they could cover their ears, a sound of a fight broke out and raged on outside. The fight didn’t last very long. There were groans and bangs on the side of the dumpster. But nothing was worse than the death grip Frank had on Matt’s arm. Since the sound came, Frank had grabbed Matt and still hadn’t let go yet. If Matt had any remaining wonder on what was out there, they were washed away. For only one thing could scare Frank this bad—dogs.

  Freaks Come Out at Night

  Frank sat there traumatized at the dogs on the other side of the thin metal wall of the dumpster. Matt looked over and could see this was going to be all his show for this great escape.

  Frank’s father had trained dogs and made them fight in his friends’ garage down the street for some extra cash. Frank could remember his father starving them of food and beating them when he knew people were at work or at sleep. One day Frank saw his dad finish off his fourteenth beer and lean back and start snoring away. Frank took it upon himself to grab leftover dinner and sneak it to the dog’s pin.

  The dog never barked or jumped around when he closed in on the cage. It just lay there and waited. Frank reached the cage and lifted the latch and slowly opened the gate. Taking a look behind him to make sure his father hadn’t awoken and followed him and seeing the coast was clear, Frank slipped in and made his way to the dog.

  Frank stopped just short of the dog; it never was given a name as far as he knew. Reaching in the bag he brought, Frank pulled out some ham and tossed it in the direction of the dog. The dog only sat there and stared at it and slowly got up and sniffed it. Frank gave a grin and walked over to give him a pet to show it was alright to eat it. Frank reached down and touched the dog’s head. Before he could blink, the dog was upon him biting him all over. Frank let out a scream of terror and did all he could to push the dog off of him.

  The dog was relentless and showed no sign of tiring even a little. Frank was bleeding and hit all over and was ready to give up and let it finish its work. Lying down his arm, he closed his eyes and gave up.

  A shot rang out so close Frank reached up and covered his ears with his bloody hands. Where he found the strength to do this he had no idea. Before he knew it, he felt light as air and felt the cold wind rush into his face and open wounds. Opening his one eye as wide as he could for his other was swollen shut, he could make out the outline of his father taking him into the house. Taking a breath of relief, he now felt the rush of all the pain at once all over his body. Each breath he took hurt him in ways people could only dream. The last thing he heard before the pain got too overwhelming was his mother screaming, and then darkness took him.

  Frank spent nearly two months in the recovery ward at the hospital. He had over a dozen surgeries on his face, body, and right arm down to his fingertips. His pinky on his right hand was nearly bitten off, and he was close to losing it completely if he didn’t make it to the emergency room (ER) as fast as he had. Even after his two months were up, he had trouble moving around and had to visit other doctors to help regraft the skin around the parts of his face that were half bitten to torn completely off to the bone underneath.

  The doctor did a magnificent job at fixing him up. Some people couldn’t tell he was ever attacked at all. But no one could have saved him or even try to help him out from the punishment his father bestowed upon him once he was all better.

  His father had shot his prize-winning dog to save his son. It should have been the only thing that mattered in the whole incident: “Kill the dog and save your son’s life.” But his father was now without his money and a dog and closely watched by the cops for having such a vicious dog.

  Frank’s father went from drinking almost every night to never seeing him without a beer in his hands. And the drunker he became, the nastier he was toward Frank. Frank would be beaten and knocked around nearly every night. He was rushed back to the ER twice i
n two years since the dog attack for a broken arm and a fractured shoulder. It was just after the second ER trip that the cops stepped in and Frank told them all he knew about the dog fights to the drinking and the beatings on him and sometimes his mother if she tried to step in and stop him from doing them. The police came to his house the next day and took his father away in the back of the car. Frank watched as they drove out of the driveway and could see the pure hate coming from his father’s eyes toward him. How could a man hate him so much but save his life from his most treasured animal, his pride and joy? Frank would never understand as long as he lived. But once he saw the car start to drive away, Frank found it to be the last time he would ever see his father again.

  For the rest of Frank’s childhood up to past his teenage years, he never asked to own a dog, let alone reach down to pet one ever again. If he would see one walking toward him, he would cross the street to avoid it at all cost.

  Matt sat there watching the fear in Frank’s eyes and his skin turn white and wet. Matt knew about his history about dogs and knew this could be Frank’s breaking point. Matt reached out and touched Frank’s arm with his index finger. Frank jumped out of his skin and looked over at his buddy almost in tears.

  “No worries,” Matt said. “I’ll handle them. You just set back and wait a while.”

  Frank didn’t give him a smile, a nod, or anything; it was like he was all in a whole another world. Matt was about to stand when he stopped and looked over at Frank and could see he was listening as well. It seemed all the commotion on the other side was gone and all was quiet. Matt used the bat he had as a crutch and placed it on the bags of trash and pushed himself up to look over the edge of the dumpster.