“You need to calm down, Jack Frost,” Jonah said, shaking his head. “Those glasses will get you what you need, just have faith.”
“Faith in what?”
“The glasses.”
Jack looked around the forest, amazed at how well the glasses were illuminating the area. Just for kicks, he lowered them from his eyes for a moment and found that it was in fact pitch black within the forest. He couldn't see more than an inch in front of him, and maybe less than that. Replacing the glasses, he looked around once again, trying to find the material Jonah had sent him for. A quick look around the forest showed absolutely nothing.
“Eh...Jonah? How will I know when I see it?” Jack asked for probably the millionth time.
“Don't worry, it'll be highlighted in white, I've already set the parameters,” Jonah reassured him.
“Well, I'm not seeing anything.”
“You may have to move in a bit deeper then.”
Jack shook his head and continued to walk through the forest. There was no beaten path here, so all he could do was walk between the trees and duck under low hanging branches as they presented themselves. More than once, he found himself scraping against sharp bushes that would have caused him a serious problem had he been wearing shorts. It wasn't a problem, per se, though he was making more noise than he liked.
All at once, he heard that familiar growling sound – zombies. They were here in the forest with him. Or was he being paranoid? He snapped his head to the left, then to the right. Nothing. Nothing but that infernal growling noise. Where were they?
“Jonah, I think I have a problem,” Jack said. There was no answer. “Jonah?”
With no response, he surveyed the forest again. This time he saw what he thought might be a leg disappear behind a nearby tree. Moments later, he realized he was practically hyperventilating. If that didn't draw them out nothing else would. He made an effort to slow his breathing and pushed forward, further into the forest. As he moved forward, he was certain he saw a zombie staggering in the distance, but it was only an outline – a shadow of a once-man. He couldn't be sure...or could he? His walk turned into a run, and soon enough, he had forgotten why he'd entered the forest in the first place. His footsteps propelled him deeper and deeper until finally...
“Oh shit!” Jack shouted.
The ground became slick, and he lost his footing. He immediately heard the splashing sound as he slid into a pool of water, or more of a swamp. Seconds later, he was neck deep in the liquid, cursing and waving his arms. The water was no more than three feet deep, but the muddy bottom was already beginning to take hold of his boots and beckon his body to the deep. If he waited too long, he would barely be a memory.
“Jonah? Jonah are you there?” Still no response. Jack cursed and looked around. Nearby, a branch was bobbing on the surface of the water. It looked large enough to support his weight. Not much comfort, but he'd take it. He worked his way over to the limb and wrapped his arms around it. Now it was time to get out of here. Suddenly the growling sounded again. The zombies were actually here, and they were close. This time, it wasn't his imagination. He could see them circling the edge of the pool. He was surrounded.
Any minute now...he stopped in mid-thought. They were circling, but they weren't looking at him. What the hell was going on? He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a breath of air as the putrid water soaked into his BDU's and the squishing of undead feet against muddy soil became more prominent.
Something in the water was keeping him safe. They couldn't sense his presence. That was fine; they couldn't stay at the edge of the pool forever for all he cared. Well, maybe they could. He continued to breathe, heavily, the airborne moisture invading his every breath, nearly causing him to choke. How the hell had he gotten to this point? Trapped in a swamp, surrounded by hordes of the undead.
There was a time when such a situation would not only have been exciting, but ideal to him. He had always wanted things to change, for the world to end, but now that it was here, he wasn't sure about it at all. Then there was Sarah. Where was she? Had she been bitten? Was she going to die? These thoughts plagued him as the tree limb bobbed up and down on the surface of the water, struggling under his weight. He pulled himself up, further onto the branch, gasping for air. How long was he going to be here? As he sat there, engulfed in the dark of the swamp, his mind drifted to an earlier time. He was thirteen, sitting in a cold doctor's office, swinging his legs impatiently.
“I'm sorry, Mrs. Frost,” The doctor said. “Your daughter is autistic.”
Mrs. Frost gasped and placed her hands to her mouth. With that diagnosis, all of her hopes and dreams for Sarah had been crushed. School, college, career, all of it gone in an instant.
“Now listen here,” The doctor said. “Autism doesn't mean the end of life, it's just a new way of living life. There are plenty of assisted care facilities--”
“This is bullshit!” Jack shouted, jumping from his chair. “I don't want a retard for a sister! Put her up for adoption! Get rid of her!”
The scene faded away, and Jack could barely contain his emotions. Had he really said that? Had he truly been so cruel to his little sister? He couldn't believe it, but his memory didn't lie. What a horrible person he'd been. Of course, he knew that he'd been horrible. It had only taken a few years for him to realize what a horrible person he was – at least in his own eyes. Maybe, if he'd been a bit more mature, he'd have realized his actions that day, and his shunning of Sarah thereafter was simply a teenage reaction.
Nevertheless, he'd joined the military not to follow in his brother's footsteps, but rather to punish himself, and ultimately, to die. At least, the dying part seemed to be working out. He let go of the log, allowing himself to sink further into the swamp. As he sank, his backside impacting the muddy bottom, he realized that he could still see. The glasses. Jonah's glasses. He could see the entire lake bottom clear as day. Rocks, a fallen tree, dead or dying fish, and even a discarded boot. The entire scene was presented in a green hue, but it was so clear!
Who was Jonah? Where did he get this type of technology? Jack contemplated this for a moment, but then he saw it. The white outline. It was the herb Jonah had sent him for, and it was at the bottom of the pool.
He began to swim through the water toward the herb. He pushed himself closer and closer. He hadn't taken a breath before dunking himself under the water, and his lungs began to burn. He stopped just short of wrapping his hand around the thing and resurfaced. Gasping for breath, his heart lurched at his proximity to the edge of the pool. The undead were still roaming about – far too close for comfort. He watched with horror as a pair of sneaker clad feet stumbled past, nearly falling into the pool. They still couldn't see him, and maybe, just maybe, the swamp water would mask him as he tried to walk past their ranks.
After taking a deep breath, he submerged himself again, into the deep. He looked around, his arms flailing in the near weightless environment. Where was it? The thing had been highlighted white on the glasses a few moments ago. Where the hell was it now? He looked around, trying to get them to highlight again. Nothing happened. He could still see, but the item Jonah needed was gone. That was it then. All was lost.
If Aimee had caught the disease, then Jonah and he would surely do as well. They were as good as dead. Damn Aimee for insisting that they stop. Why couldn't she just mind her own business? No, it was that kind of thinking that had landed him here in the first place. He was still a horrible person, wasn't he? He was about to surface and take another breath when it happened. The herb was highlighted again. White. In his excitement, he let out a cry, expelling the remainder of the air from his lungs. He would have to hurry.
He swam forward and grabbed it. It was a rock – a moss covered rock. Whatever Jonah needed was in this rock, and Jack thanked God that it was easy enough to displace from the mud. He yanked it out of the mud and pushed his head above water.
“Jonah,” He said. “Jonah, are you there?”
“Yes, Jack Frost, I'm here,” Jonah replied.
“I got it,” Jack said. “I got the damn thing.”
“Oh good,” Jonah said. “Then we don't have to die.”
***
“So, here's the problem, Terry,” Michael said, pointing to a peculiar spot on the child's body. “This boy was bitten before he got here.”
“So it would seem,” Terry said, examining the bite mark on the boy's leg. “But, he didn't turn right away.”
“Someone in town told us that it moves slower in children – a lot slower. One minute they're playing kick ball or something, the next, they're munching on their friends. How many kids do we have in this community?”
“A lot, and we have the two that came in earlier...that Ross kid, and the little girl, Sarah I think,” Terry confirmed. “They both seemed fine, but it couldn't hurt to check.”
“We've been way too lax with our security,” Michel said as he covered the body up with a tarp. “We didn't even KNOW this boy had been bitten.”
“But someone did,” Terry mused. “Someone knew he was bitten, and they took matters into their own hands.”
“Do we thank them or throw them out?” Michael wondered.
“Ah...you know I'd really rather not answer that,” Terry said. “I'd like to leave that kind of thing up to the Almighty.”
“But, we can't leave everything up to God,” Michael said. “We need to sweep the entire area, find out whose bit, whose not, and sort them out.”
“I couldn't agree more,” Terry said. “Get John, Michelle, and George. We're going to go door to door and check everyone.”
***
“Frank, Frank do you copy?” Carl said into the two way radio he'd taken from the control room.
“Uh..yeah...Carl. You don't need to say copy.”
“Copy that,” Carl said. “We're ready, can you turn the first three on? Over?”
“I hate you,” Amber said. “I seriously hate you.”
“Is it your time of the month or something?” Carl demanded. “Let's go.”
The first three banks of fluorescent lights came on with a buzz, revealing a tangled mess of cars and a few zombies wandering here and there. Though it was a mess, there was still a fairly clear path, wide enough for the two ATV's. They cautiously moved forward, the hum of their vehicles echoing loudly against the walls of the tunnel. They easily navigated the vehicles, even finding a stretch of road in the center clear enough for a straight ride.
“Skip the next three, go ahead one,” Carl said into the radio. Behind them, three banks of lights were extinguished, and ahead of them, three more were activated.
“We've got a bit of a following,” Amber said, looking behind her.
Carl checked. She was right. The zombies in the tunnel had become attracted to the ATV noise and were following slowly but surely.
“Let them be,” Carl advised. “They can't catch us. Frank, next three.”
The next three sets of lights activated, revealing a macabre scene ahead of them. A multi-car pileup had occurred, blood splattering the asphalt along with other vehicles on the road which were either stopped or overturned. Beneath one car, lay what should have been a corpse, but instead, it was a woman, trapped beneath the overturned vehicle, half in and half out of the window. The epidemic had turned her into a member of the undead, and she tried desperately to free herself, It was a futile effort, but Amber could see blood marks on the asphalt where she'd worn her fingers down to the bone trying to escape the metal and fiberglass prison. Amber almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
“Keep going,” Carl warned. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”
“Shut up.”
“Next three,” Carl said into the radio.
They continued like that for a good ten minutes, finding routes through the cars, avoiding the slow moving undead, and every few minutes calling for Frank to turn on the next set of lights. At a certain point, Amber turned her head and realized that the entrance to the tunnel could no longer be seen. They were riding through the pitch black, and had no idea what was ahead. What if there was no way out? What if the other end was blocked off? Would they die here in this tunnel? It was a scary thought, and definitely plausible. Amber shuddered as she continued riding alongside her Uncle.
“Next three Frank,” he said into the radio. As if on cue, the next three lights activated and the three behind them deactivated.
“It's like...one of those carnival rides,” Amber muttered. “I think I paid five dollars to ride through something like this at an amusement park.”
“We could charge a lot more to let people ride through this,” Carl said. Amber couldn't tell if he was joking or not. “Could add some strobe lights, maybe a few pop-out skeletons.”
“Maybe, if we chain up the zombies,” Amber muttered.
“Now what fun would that be?”
They rode in silence for a while longer, both eager to reach the end of the tunnel. Amber was thankful that their ride had been uneventful so far. Maybe, her father would get through this thing after all, even if he didn't have someone operating the lights.
“I've been thinking about Frank,” Carl said. “The service tunnel at the beginning runs all the way through. I could run back to the start and operate the lights to get him through.”
“My God, that's a great idea,” Amber said. It was as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders. They were all going to make it through.
“We've gotta get to the end first, though,” Carl pointed out. “Try to bottle your hopes till then.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Amber said as she looked ahead. “Oh my God!”
Carl saw it, too. A horde of undead directly ahead of them – between them and the tunnel exit, which they could clearly see. They both slammed on their brakes, coming to a stop between two cars.
“We could ram them,” Amber suggested.
“Don't you dare,” Carl said. “Not with your little sister hanging on the back.”
“Yeah, I'm still back here,” Kelly said, her arms locked in a death grip around her big sister's waist.
“We'll have to fight,” Amber said, pulling the gun from her back once again. “We punch a hole big enough to get through, then we haul ass.”
“Frank, we've got a bit of a problem up here,” Carl said into the radio. “Got some undead wandering around. We've gotta get rid of them.”
“Okay, be careful,” Frank answered back.
“Let's do this,” Amber said through gritted teeth.
***
“Why are you back here,” Amanda demanded of Terry. “Do you still think we were involved in that boy's death?”
“I'll tell you what I personally think,” Terry said. “I personally think that your little girl here snuck into his house and chopped his head off, but that's neither here nor there. What is important, is that the boy was bitten, long before he got here.”
“Bitten?” Jamie asked. “What do you mean bitten? If you're bitten, you turn into a zombie, everyone knows that. I saw that boy, he wasn't a zombie.”
“Yeah, that'd be true,” Terry agreed. “But you see our theory is that children take longer to turn than adults. Their bodies are always changing, so before they hit that teenage phase, it could take up to a week for them to really turn, or at least become noticeable.”
Terry had simply walked into their house unannounced, nearly earning a beating from Jamie who thought he was a home invader. Now she was beginning to regret her decision to hold back. He stood there, in their living room as if he belonged there. Ross and Sarah were sitting on the couch, trying to stay out of sight, though they weren't doing a very good job of it.
“You still haven't told us what you want,” Amanda said firmly. “You can either tell us or get out.”
“Fine,” Terry said. “We're checking all of the children for bite marks. Your two are on my list.”
“Um...I don't think so,” Amanda said. “If they were bitten, we would have known by now.”
> Amanda said it confidently, but inwardly her stomach was practically in freefall. She had seen the bite mark on Sarah's leg, but could she really be changing? It had been several weeks since she'd taken them in, surely it would have happened by now, right?”
“What if you do find a bite mark?” Jamie demanded. “What do you plan to do then? Kill them?”
Terry shrugged.
“That's really up to the community, though I'm all for dropping them outside the walls and letting them fend for themselves. But hey, in the end, we'll have to shoot them anyway won't we?”
It rolled off his tongue so easily. Amanda wanted to slap him, but restrained herself. It really wouldn't do much good, would it?
Terry moved past the pair and approached Ross.
“Do you want to go first, young man?” he asked.
“I don't have anything to hide,” Ross said.
“Well, I'll need you to strip down to your underwear son,” Terry said.
“We just met a few days ago,” Ross said sarcastically. “I'm not sure if we're ready for that step in our relationship.”
“You're very funny. Now strip,” Terry said, becoming visibly irritated.
“Why don't you watch how you talk to him,” Amanda interjected.
“It’s fine,” Ross said. “If the old man wants to be a perv, let him”
Terry rolled his eyes and waited while Ross stripped down to his underwear. He examined the boy visually, but saw no signs of a bite mark, anywhere.
“Looks like you're clean,” Terry said. “Put your clothes back on.”
“You sure you don't want to check anywhere else?” Ross said smugly.
“Son, I am not above putting you over my knee,” Terry said, his face turning beet red.
“And you don't want to know what I'll do to you if you touch him,” Jamie said, her arms crossed.
“You definitely can't handle both of us,” Amanda added. “Finish your business and get out.”
It was much easier for Sarah. She was, as usual, simply wearing a sun dress, though, it was one Amanda had given her. This time, it was a sky blue, knee length, sleeveless dress with a sash. Terry examined her from neck, to arms, and finally came to her left leg where the bite mark stood out like a sore thumb.
Zombies Ate My Neighbors, Family & Friends (Book 3) Page 5
