Zombies Ate My Neighbors, Family & Friends (Book 3)

by J. D. Chambliss

  Alright,” Carl said. “Let's do this. ”The creature raised its tentacle once again, thrusting it at Carl. The tentacle must have moved at least thirty miles per hour, which doesn't sound that fast, but when an eighty pound tentacle of death is racing forward to snuff your life out, you realize just how fast it really is.

  “Holy shi--” Carl started to say, as his life flashed before his eyes. Before he could get the words out, the creature was knocked off its feet and slammed against the side of the freeway. It evaporated into a bloody silver mist before Carl's eyes.

  “What the hell?!” He looked around desperately, trying to figure out what just happened. He looked to his left and it hit him, they had reached the coast. There was nothing but open water beside the freeway. In the water, sat what looked like a small naval patrol boat, sporting a massive gun on the bow. Suddenly and loudly, a voice rang out through a loudspeaker, which Carl assumed was attached to the PT boat.

  “This rail gun round is brought to you courtesy of the United States Navy. All gift baskets and thank you cards should be directed to Naval Headquarters, now in Rhode Island, thank you for being a United States Citizen!”

  Carl dropped to his knees, letting the rifle clatter against the ground. They had come so far, but for what? There were three of them left, his brother was likely dead in the tunnel explosion. What the hell was the point in going on? He shook his head and searched his pockets again for more ammunition. There was nothing left, he'd used it all in the tunnel and out here. He did find a few of Amber's shotgun shells, but that wasn't going to help him. Instead of standing up, he rolled over, and laid on his back, facing the sky.

  “Dammit to hell,” he said. “Dammit all.”

  “Don't damn anything yet,” he heard Amber say. “I found a working semi-truck at the bottom, and the road is clear. Let's go back for dad.”

  Carl looked up, squinting against the morning sun. It was definitely Amber and Kelly.

  “I don't know if...”

  “Don't give me that shit,” Amber said. “Get up, let's go find him.”

  Carl peeled himself off the road and they began the long trek back up the hill. There were no zombies to encounter this time, but when they reached the mouth of the tunnel, Amber was incredibly disappointed. To say it was gone was an understatement. The explosion had completely eradicated it, making it appear as if the tunnel entrance was never even there. A few bits of re barb and steel protruded here and there, but aside from that, there was absolutely no evidence that the tunnel had existed.

  “Hey,” Carl said. “The door is still over there, the service door.”

  Amber looked. He was right; the service entrance was on the outside of the tunnel on this end. Before he could suggest it, Amber and Kelly were already running toward the door. Carl limped behind them, not even bothering to pick up his rifle.

  “Be careful!” he shouted after them.

  “Go to hell!” Amber shouted back as she reached the door, doubling over and gasping for air. The uphill run had taken more out of her than she expected.

  “Hold on!” Carl shouted. “When you open that door you need to be ready, God knows what's gonna pop out!”

  Amber opened the door anyway. Nothing came out.

  “I say again, go to hell,” Amber said, still gasping for air.

  “You say whatever you want, you know I'm right,” Carl said, walking past her and into the service tunnel. “Oh shit.”

  “What?” Amber called after him.

  “Tunnel doesn't go straight through, apparently they saw fit to build a maze.”

  “Does it look intact?”

  “Eh..yeah, oddly enough,” Carl said. “Lights are still on, too. Go figure.” They started inside even though it this had happened in a horror film, the audience would be screaming not to enter.

  ***

  “I have to tell you,” Jack said, following Jonah closely. “I really hate this.”

  “Hate what?” Jonah asked. They were about a third of the way through the corn field according to the PDA.

  “Walking. Walking everywhere. Before I joined the army, I was a couch warrior. Call of Duty, Medal of Honor, you know.”

  “No, I'm afraid I don't know,” Jonah shook his head.

  “Video games, you know, where you...you really don't know what Call of Duty is?”

  “Not a clue,” Jonah said.

  “Well, anyway, I spent all my time on the couch, never really walked anywhere. It's just...really hard.”

  “How exactly is it hard?” Jonah inquired without bothering to look back.

  “Uh..well, this is kind of embarrassing,” Jack said. “But my legs are rubbing together, and they kind of formed this rash. We had this Arm and Hammer foot powder in the army that we used--”

  Jonah stopped and turned around.

  “I'm sorry,” he said. “Did you just say you put foot powder on your testicles?”

  “Don't knock it till you've tried it,” Jack said. “When things start flaring up down there, you'll do anything to cool it down.”

  “I'm surprisingly uncomfortable with this conversation.” Jonah resumed walking.

  “Well, the thing is,” Jack said, “you seem to be really good at walking; how do you keep it from happening?”

  “It's easy,” Jonah said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, don't be a pansy.”

  “Hey!” Aimee shouted from behind. “You left me in the car! Male bastards!”

  “She woke up,” Jack said, stating the obvious.

  “That she did,” Jonah agreed.

  “Why in the hell did you leave me behind?” Aimee demanded as she caught up to them.

  “See I have trouble walking,” Jack said. “And she catches up to us like she's been running all her life.”

  “I have been running all my life, you asshole!” Aimee snapped. “What have you been doing?”

  “Eh...mostly masturbating,” Jack said.

  “So you can do a one arm pullup, good for you!”

  “This is not the place to have this conversation,” Jonah said. “When we get there, I'm going to need the two of you to stay down. According to my PDA, there are three guards on the perimeter--”

  “Perimeter? Perimeter of what?” Aimee asked.

  “Jonah's planning a one man invasion,” Jack said. “Against a guy who has more guns than the average doomsday nut.”

  “Those doomsday theories are hilarious,” Aimee said.

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “They'll never come true.”

  “Three guards on the perimeter,” Jonah continued. “Once I've killed them--”

  “How do you know they won't kill you?” Jack asked. It was a legitimate question, or so he thought.

  Jonah turned around and took the glasses from Jack's face.

  “Aim assist,” He said. “It's cheating, but I don't have use for rules or honor right now. Once I kill the three guards, I'm going to confront Dunfield. Then the fun starts.”

  “You think this is fun?” Aimee, once again overreacting.

  “It all depends on your outlook,” Jonah said, “which you need to work on.”

  “I'm thinking we should draw them out,” Jack said. “You know, instead of picking them off one by one.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Jonah asked.

  “I don't know; maybe, set the field on fire?”

  Jonah laughed.

  “How do you suggest we do that?”

  “I don't know,” Jack said. “You seem to find a way to do everything else, why not torch a field?”

  “I'm glad you haven't lost your sense of humor in all this,” Jonah said. Jack couldn't tell whether he was serious or not. “We're close. I can see it up ahead.”

  They stopped, all three staring straight ahead at the massive gated community. The eight foot wall made the place look like a fortress, though Jack had seen communities like this one before. As Jonah had predicted, there were a total of three guards in military garb patrolling the walls.
If he hadn't known his sister was in there, Jack would never have bothered to follow Jonah, even if he had saved his life. He'd certainly been down that road before.

  “We're about five hundred yards out,” Jonah said. “I can't shoot them from here, so stay behind me.”

  As they neared the guards, Jonah's glasses began to register distance. He was slightly nervous about attacking head on, but so far, the guards hadn't actually noticed him. He waited until the glasses registered two hundred and fifty yards, then signaled for the party to stop.

  “You're going to shoot from here? With a pistol?” Jack demanded.

  “You said it yourself,” Aimee said. “He can do anything.”

  Without warning, Jonah drew the Glock from his waistband and fired three times. The three guards on the wall fell in succession. There was a slight delay, and then a good amount of yelling within the walls.

  “Sometimes, I can do anything,” Jonah said. “Let's go.”

  They walked toward the gate yet again and made it to the road before two more soldiers ran out to meet them. Jonah dispatched those as well, and signaled for them to stop walking yet again.

  “Dunfield!” Jonah called out. “I know you're in there. I just want to talk to you!”

  Instead of Dunfield emerging from the gate, another soldier emerged. Jonah took aim and fired before the soldier could even raise his weapon.

  “Once again, I just want to talk!” Jonah shouted.

  It took a moment, but Jack heard that all too familiar voice shouting from within.

  “Who the hell are you, and what do you want?” It was Dunfield. He stood on the edge of the wall, unarmed, arrogant as usual.

  “My name is Jonah,” Jonah shouted upward, putting the weapon in his waistband. “I brought you Jack Frost.”

  “So you did,” Dunfield said, glancing at Jack, probably much more excited than he was willing to let on.

  “There's a catch, of course,” Jonah said.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jack whispered.

  “I don't see a catch,” Dunfield said as he was joined by a dozen soldiers on the wall, all of which were happy to aim their weapons at Jonah.

  “What I'm proposing is a duel,” Jonah said. “Pistols, twelve paces, all of that.”

  “Interesting,” Dunfield said. “Stakes?”

  “If you win, I'll give you Jack Frost; if I win, I want his sister.”

  Dunfield laughed, almost hysterically.

  “You want that loud mouthed little girl?”

  “It's a sentimental thing,” Jonah said, shrugging.

  “You killed four of my men,” Dunfield said.

  “They were in the way.”

  Dunfield grinned. “Alright, Mr. Jonah, we have a deal. I'll be out in ten minutes.” Dunfield disappeared from the wall along with his men.

  “I have a question,” Jack said once they were alone again. “Why the hell didn't you just shoot him?”

  “It doesn't work that way Jack,” Jonah said. “I need their hearts and minds, not their blood. Besides, I only had eleven bullets. Now I have seven. I'm not going to take down the entire platoon with that no matter how much aim assistance I have.”

  “Will that aim assistance help you with Dunfield?” Aimee asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Jonah said, nodding confidently. “He'll go down like a rock.”

  “If you don't mind,” Jack said. “I'm going to run as fast as I can in any direction.”

  “No need for that,” Jonah said as he checked his weapon over. “I'm not going to lose.”

  The gates swung open, and Dunfield walked through with two soldiers, brandishing a pistol.

  “You're a good shot, Mr. Jonah,” Dunfield said. “I look forward to finishing you off. The rules are simple, back to back, twenty paces, you know the rest.”

  “Indeed I do,” Jonah said smiling. “I've been looking forward to this for some time.”

  Aimee grabbed Jonah's arm.

  “Do you know what you're doing?” she demanded. “You could die here; then we all die!”

  “I'm a good shot,” Jonah said. “You've seen that. Everything will be fine.”

  He wasn't wrong there, he was definitely a good shot.

  “Leave the man alone,” Dunfield said. “He's busy.”

  “And you're dead,” Jack said.

  “I'll deal with you later, boy,” Dunfield said, not even bothering to look at Jack when he said it.

  “I don't know what you have against me,” Jack said. “I never did anything to you.”

  “You're a deserter,” Dunfield said angrily. “In a time of war. Now shut your mouth, before I shut it for you. Mr. Jonah, on the road.”

  The pair walked to the road and stood back to back.

  “Call the paces!” Dunfield shouted to one of his soldiers.

  “Which one of us?” One of the soldiers called back.

  “You!” Dunfield pointed in the general direction of his soldiers.

  “Me?” The one on the right raised his hand.

  “Oh God,” Dunfield said. “Okay, the other one!” Again, he pointed in the soldiers’ general direction. This exchange might have been funny if it weren’t for the fact of the life and death results of this event.

  “I'm an individual!” The other soldier shouted!

  “Fine, I will do it,” Aimee shouted. She was nervous and irritated, and she hated duels even though this was her first and probably her last one. “One!”

  As she counted, the men took a step apart for each number.

  “Two!”

  “Three!”

  “Four!”

  “Five!”

  Aimee coughed.

  “Was that a number?” Dunfield shouted.

  “No, she coughed,” Jonah said.

  “I'm only asking because it sounded like six.”

  “No, it was a cough.”

  “Six!”

  “Okay there's six,” Dunfield said.

  “Seven!”

  “Eight!”

  “Nine!”

  “Ten!”

  “Seems like ten should be enough,” Dunfield said.

  “You said twenty.”

  “So I did.”

  “Eleven!”

  “Twelve!”

  “Thirteen!”

  “Fourteen!”

  Aimee stopped to cough once again.

  “Stop that woman!” Dunfield shouted.

  “I think I am coming down with something,” she said apologetically.

  “Well, take an antibiotic.”

  “There's a shortage. Fifteen! Sixteen! Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen! Twenty!”

  Both men turned, and as they did, two shots rang out.

  “Who won?” Jack demanded. “Was it Jonah?”

  “Oh my God,” Aimee said. “I don't believe it.”

  Jonah looked down and pressed his hand to his stomach. He pulled it away to find that it was covered in blood. He'd been shot. He looked up to find Dunfield standing twenty paces away, unharmed.

  “Well,” Jonah said, before falling to his knees and losing consciousness. “that's unfortunate.”

  ***

  “So, here's the thing,” Carl said as he led Amber through the white brick maze. “We're on the Jersey coast, and if I remember correctly, there's a Carnival cruise ship parked here, somewhere.”

  “A carnival cruise ship?” Amber repeated.

  “Yeah, I think we should take it. It'll be loaded with emergency supplies. The last time one got stuck out in the water, maritime law was altered to require non-perishable food stocked on each ship, no matter what the charter was. We take the ship, and we'll be good for the next two years.”

  “Yeah there's just one problem,” Amber said. “We don't have enough people to run a cruise ship.”

  “Good news there, too,” Carl said as he opened a door in the hallway, walking into what appeared to be an office. At the desk was the body of a man, dressed in a suit and tie. Obviously, a city employee. In his han
d, held to his mouth was a small revolver. The poor guy had blown his brains out on the job. Carl snatched the revolver out of the man's hand and began searching the drawers for ammunition. “The systems on those cruise ships have been modified, significantly.”

  “How significantly?” Amber asked, watching the door as Carl located a box of one hundred .38 slugs in the drawer.

  “Believe it or not,” he said. “one person can actually operate the entire ship.”

  “One person? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, and if we're lucky, it won't be filled with zombies.” Carl said as he pocketed the rounds and marched out of the office. Neither said a word about what had just happened. Both had become more than a bit desensitized by the events of the last few weeks which Carl was realizing. They didn’t even scream when a zombie came staggering towards them that is with the exception of Kelly, their throwback to when humanity wasn’t in the minority.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Kelly said as if on cue.

  “There might be one in here actually,” Carl replied as they made their way down the tunnel. “Yep, here it is.”

  Amber checked the bathroom; it was clear.

  “I'll be right outside,” she told Kelly as she left her in the unisex restroom. “Okay, we need to find Dad.”

  Carl had already started moving further down the tunnel, looking for any sign of his brother.

  “Found another door down here; he might be behind it,” Carl said, pointing to a steel door.

  “I'm behind it,” Frank said through the door, his voice muffled by the heavy steel.

  “He's behind it,” Carl confirmed.

  “Dad?” Amber shouted, running toward the door and trying the handle. It wouldn't budge, but she continued to try.