The Human Race (Book 1)

by Tahnee Fritz

“Yeah, I hear ya on that. It is slim pickings out here and I don’t think it will get any better unless we go off to a big city or something. I don’t know how you and your dad are, but we try to stay away from cities. Bad things happen there.”

  “We don’t go there either. We stay on the road and stop in towns when we have the chance.” I say, then slurp down the rest of my soup.

  “Where are you headed?”

  “North to Canada. Dad thinks we’ll be safer up there.”

  She raises an eyebrow out of confusion, “I’ve never heard of that before. I’m pretty sure these demons are everywhere and I don’t think the cold will keep them out of a place. Especially if there’s food for them.”

  “I know, but he thinks we’ll find safety and I don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.”

  “Yeah, there were times when I would have loved to stay behind in one of the towns we’ve come across. Just let my family go on without me, but I love them and they love me, even with all of my quirks and faults. I can’t bring myself to stay in one place and hope things work out for them. If bad things happen to my family, then I’m going to be there to let the bad things happen to me as well.”

  I smile, “That’s a good way to look at things.”

  She smiles even bigger, “I know, I can surprise you sometimes and say something really unexpected.”

  Sherry does have her quirks and talks way too much, but I can honestly see myself being friends with this girl. She’s really easy to talk to, amazingly listens to every word I say, even if it’s not a lot, and she doesn’t talk down to me like some of the other girls my age have done before. There might not be very many humans left in this world and of the few that are left, some can be kind of cruel and hurtful. You would think the high school drama would have died right along with high school. Not everything changes though.

  I had a decent, peaceful night’s sleep for the first time in months. I don’t know if it had something to do with the company or that I didn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night to take my watch. The only time I woke up was when Sherry decided she needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and demanded I go with her. That will always be something us girls have to do together. Not only do we feel safer nowadays when we do things like that in packs, but it brings back a little piece of the world we once had.

  I open my eyes and see the sun shining above us in a bright blue sky. The air doesn’t smell fresh or clean. Burnt wood and death still lingers in the area. I can’t wait to get out of this town and get away from that horrid stench. It isn’t the best thing in the world to wake up to in the morning. I would much rather prefer the smell of bacon and eggs burning on the stove instead of burnt bodies lying in the streets.

  I sit up in the sleeping bag, dad let me use it all night while he took turns keeping watch with the other men. They let us women and the younger boy sleep the whole night. I haven’t been able to do that since we left Florida. I stretch my arms above my head and let out a slight yawn. I look around me and notice Jim handing out small chunks of bread for breakfast. It’s all they have left to eat and I know their food supply is running low, much like ours. They probably came to that town for the same reason we did, supplies and food.

  I stand up and grab the sleeping bag to begin rolling it up. Next, I shove it back in the plastic bag and strap it back to dad’s backpack. We kept our bags together on the ground next to me while I slept. Sherry, who slept by me the whole night, stands and I help her fold her blanket so she can stow it in one of their packs. While she’s busy with that, I take the time to fix my hair. It got a little frizzy while I was sleeping. I take the hair tie out and smooth all the loose hairs so I can put it back in a ponytail. It’s much easier to take care of when it’s out of my face all day.

  Dad walks over to me and hands me a small piece of the dry bread, “Jim is wanting to know if we would like to join them on their way to the next town. What do you think?”

  I shrug as I take a bite, “They seem pretty cool to me and it would be kinda nice to walk with other people for once.”

  He smiles, “Did you make a friend?”

  “I think so. Sherry is definitely different, but I could see myself spending more time with her.” I reply.

  “Then we’ll go with them. We need to get some more supplies anyway.” Dad says.

  He lifts his bag from the ground then walks back over to Jim. I pick mine up as well and put the straps over my shoulders. I take the last couple bites of my bread as Sherry comes back over to me. The bag she carries is bright pink with an array of feathers dangling off one of the zippers. Mine is simple and boring, a black bag with no decorations on it at all. A good sign that I’m not much of a girly-girl.

  “So, are you and your dad going to come with us?” she asks in a hopeful tone.

  I nod, “Yep.”

  She squeals and jumps up and down in excitement. I smile and try not to seem too surprised at her sudden happiness. When she calms down, she wraps her arms around me and gives me a really squishy hug. The kind I used to get from my mom when I was younger right before she dropped me off at school. The kind of hug that always told me she would miss me.

  After everyone is all packed up and the fire suffocated by dirt, we head on our way to the next town. I’m told we will get there sometime in the afternoon so it won’t be as long of a walk as I’m used to. Dad walks with the guys his age, Sherry’s mom walks hand in hand with the little boy, Dillon, and I walk alongside Sherry. We stay at the back of the group and I have my gun in my hand in case we run into trouble. Sherry doesn’t have a weapon, which doesn’t surprise me considering how she is surrounded by strong men who can take care of whatever problem they might run into. All I have is my dad and we take care of things together.

  “I’m really glad you guys are coming with us. This makes this trip so much better now that there’s someone else my age that I can talk to. You have no idea what it’s like to talk to only your mom and four older guys who think they know everything. Dillon doesn’t even talk too much.” Sherry explains.

  “Yeah, it is kinda nice to have someone other than my dad to talk to. You can’t imagine the conversations we have sometimes. Most of them are about the weather or us trying to figure out what day it is.” I say.

  She giggles, “So, have you ran into any monsters out here? We haven’t been on the road for very long and only had one run in with a zombie. Uncle Brian took care of that nasty thing though.”

  “Yeah, we’ve come across quite a few zombies out here. Yesterday I killed three of them.”

  “What about vamps?”

  “The last one of those we saw was about a week ago. We were rummaging through an old gas station for some food and stuff. It came out of the freezer and was dumb enough to chase us outside in the sun. Thing fried in like a minute.” I say with a smile.

  “Ewww,” she grimaces, “I hate seeing those things out in the sun. They are gross in general, but when they burn up like that, it’s so much worse.”

  I wonder how she’s lasted this long after seeing so many disgusting things. The vamps aren’t that bad when you look at them. They still look somewhat human. It’s the zombies that are far from pretty. Most of them are so disfigured with body parts missing or a good majority of their innards hanging out through a hole in their gut. Makes having a nice dream almost impossible.

  “You remind me of my sister.” I say with a smile.

  “Should I take that as a compliment?” Sherry asks.

  I nod, “Yeah, she was great, but she was always disgusted by every little thing we came across. I swear she threw up at least once a day because of the awful things we’d see.”

  Sherry was quiet for a second then, “I’m sorry you lost just about your entire family, Bridget. I can’t say I know how you feel because I’m surrounded by mine. The closest I can get to even coming close to how you feel, is when I lost my best friend. Our families stuck together for a year after things got bad. Then one night, we
found this old house and decided to stay the night. Her parents went out to patrol the area and never came back. She was so depressed about it, she ended up killing herself. I can at least find comfort knowing she died at her own hands instead of at the mouth of one of the monsters.”

  “That’s horrible. This place sucks.” I say.

  “Damn right about that.” Sherry runs her fingers through her blonde hair, “You know, I used to want to be a ballerina when I grew up. All I ever wanted was to dance on stage with thousands of eyes watching my every move. I took so many lessons and was in so many recitals. That was the best time of my life and I hate thinking how it was all for nothing. You know what I mean?”

  I nod, “Yeah, I wanted to be journalist. I was the youngest person on the high school newspaper and wanted to be the editor one day. The best time I ever had was going around the school reporting things and getting to the bottom of whatever was in the school food. But I don’t think all that time I spent doing the one thing I love was for nothing. Sure I’ll never get the chance to be a big time journalist or anything, but I’ll always have the memories of when I was a good one at school. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

  “I guess you’re right, Bridget.” She does a ballerina twirl on her heels. “Maybe one day, when we find a safe place to spend the rest of our lives, we’ll be able to do the things we love again.”

  “I don’t know. Being a journalist was great when I was younger, but killing zombies and vamps is a much better waste of time.” I joke.

  She and I share a laugh together and continue following the others. I used to wish for the day when we’d find a safe place out there in the world. Somewhere to live and be happy without the threat of zombies or vampires. After being trapped in this world with those monsters for five years, I lost the will to believe a safe place out there exists. That no matter where we go, we will always run into them. We will always have to defend ourselves and kill what used to be innocent people just to save our skins. Even if there is a safe place out there somewhere, I don’t think I’d even fit in with a normal crowd anymore. It’s been so long since I’ve lived a normal life, I think I have forgotten how to do it. It would be easier for me to continue on this long, arduous road with my dad always by my side instead of forcing myself into an uncomfortable world with strangers.

  That might sound weird to some, but I really don’t care what they think. Let them think I’m weird for enjoying the thrill of shooting a zombie in the head or luring vamps out into the sunlight. Those things aren’t going to kill themselves, so someone has to do it. Why not a nineteen girl who grew up in the suburbs that is extremely good at it do the job.

  It’s been a couple hours since we left the blackened town and the sun in the sky has warmed up the world around us. I take my hoodie off and shove it inside my backpack. It’s much cooler without that thing on. My red t-shirt still looks somewhat new, there’s a small stain on the bottom from when I was trying to clean my gun. Black grease doesn’t come out very well. My shirt isn’t as clean or nice as Sherry’s navy blue shirt with a crazy flower design on the front of it. She obviously knows how to stay clean better than I do.

  The wind blows through my hair and I take in a deep breath through my nose. A familiar scent catches my attention and I go on full alert. This little gift of mine has come in handy on quite a few occasions. While on this journey with dad, I’ve gotten good at sniffing out the horrible scent of something that’s dead, even when no one else can smell it. It’s not the rotting on the ground type of dead either. It’s the still walking around on two legs trying to eat whatever living thing they can find type of dead. They have a very particular odor which I have trained myself to get used to in order for us to know when one of them is close by. They sort of smell like old, dried blood mixed with feces along with vomit. They just smell like something that will never stop decaying, whereas the actual dead just smell dead and that smell doesn’t stick around forever like it does with zombies. I’m really only good at it when we’re downwind of whatever monster is nearby, but every so often I catch it when I least expect it.

  I take in another long inhale through my nose and the smell intensifies. They can’t be too far ahead of us and I know we will run right in to them. I rush away from Sherry who begins to protest and join my dad with the other men.

  “What’s the matter, Bridge?” dad asks.

  “I can smell them. The zombies, they aren’t too far ahead.” I reply.

  Jim and his brothers turn their heads toward me, “What are you talking about? I don’t smell a thing.” the bald Jack states as he breathes in through his nose.

  “Trust me on this, I can smell them.” I say.

  We walk onward and get to a bend in the road. A few cars parked along the side and kneeling behind the last car in the line, are two of those damn zombies. On the ground next to them, is the twitching remains of whatever human they made a meal out of. I can hear the slurping sounds as they munch away at the person’s flesh. Not a pretty sound to hear. Another not so pretty sound to hear, specifically when there’s a zombie or vamp within hearing range, is the sound of a loud gasp coming from Sherry right behind us.

  The slurping stops as well as our walking. One of the zombies gets to its feet and lets out a throaty moan when its black eyes come across our group. The other one is still busy devouring whatever it can of the human on the ground.

  The zombie starts walking toward us, blood and pieces of skin dripping from the corners of its mouth. I can’t tell if it was a man or a woman. The clothes are too baggy and the hair is too long to tell. It’s face is too bruised and bloodied to get a clear shot at trying to figure out what gender it was at one point. Not like it matters all that much anyway. In a few short minutes, it’ll be just as dead as the person it was snacking on.

  “What do we do?” Brian whispers.

  I glance at my dad and smile. The kind of smile begging him to let me do what I’m best at. He rolls his eyes and waves me onward. Another chance to show off my amazing zombie killing skills in front of our new friends.

  I turn to Jim and his brothers, “Don’t worry. I got this.”

  I walk away from them and head toward the zombie. I notice one of its legs is broken between the ankle and the knee. The bone is sticking out, but that doesn’t stop it from trying to run at me. If it were a normal human, they would be screaming out in immense pain at even trying to walk on a leg that badly damaged. Zombies don’t notice pain, at least they don’t care about it if they do.

  It lets out another bellowing moan as I get closer to it. Just a few more feet and I can get a good shot in. No sense in wasting bullets when I know I’m too far to get a good shot. I raise my gun and stop walking. It still comes at me, anger burning in its black eyes, blood dripping from its face. I still can’t tell what gender it is, but in three seconds it really won’t matter. I take a deep breath, count slowly in my head. One, two, three. The gunshot echoes all around us and is instantly followed by the thud of the monster falling to the ground. A perfect shot right to the head.

  Next, I turn my eyes to the second zombie. The instant it heard the gunshot, it stood up from its prey. This one I can tell is a man, one with a good sized hole in his chest. It looks like a fresh wound too, brown mush is still oozing out of it. The person on the ground over there must’ve tried fighting back and failed, miserably. This one grits his brown teeth, squishing out whatever part of the human he was eating between them. He lets out a few grunts and begins sprinting toward me. Normally these things don’t run that fast, but this one seems to be in good shape and is actually running at a decent speed.

  I raise my gun up one more time and point it at his head. Something tells me not to pull the trigger just yet. Why not have a little fun for once? I lower my aim a tad and take a shot. The bullet goes right through his throat and he falls to the ground. Brown mush squirts out of the wound I created as he twists and turns in the street. Whatever moans he tries to make come out raspy and muffled. />
  As I watch the thing squirm on the ground, an image I haven’t thought of in a while pops into my head. The morning my sister, Maggie, was killed at the hands of a zombie. About two years ago, on a morning much like this one. We had just made it to Florida and were out exploring, trying to scavenge a little bit. One of them came at us by surprise and attacked my sister. It got one bite in on her neck and she started to make the same sounds as that zombie on the ground in front me. Dad got a good shot at the zombie who bit Maggie, but it was already too late for her. She lay in the grass, tossing and turning, the poison already coursing through her veins. We didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye and dad had to take the pain away from her. He made the right choice. There was no stopping what she was about to become.

  “Bridget, take the next shot!” dad’s voice broke through my thoughts and I stare at the zombie.

  It manages to roll onto his stomach and is trying to pull himself up to his feet. Anger courses through my body as I think of my sister. She didn’t deserve to die like that. She was a good, kind-hearted young woman who I looked up to at one point in time. I quickly take a few steps until I’m standing within arm’s reach of that thing. In my heart, I know he was at one point a normal person. Someone who had gotten in the way of a zombie and came back as one himself. He didn’t deserve that. He reaches his arms out, still making raspy moans and tries to grab at my ankles. I aim my gun at his head and he looks up at me.

  In his eyes, I see pain and suffering. The kind of look that is begging me to end the horrible life he had been given. I steady the gun in my grip and close my finger around the trigger. Another echo from the gunshot blast and another body falling to the ground.

  Another zombie dead and for good this time.

  I stare down at my kill, the puddle of its black blood growing at my feet. I lower the gun and listen to the footsteps of the group coming up behind me. I wonder what they think of me after seeing me take down two zombies alone. A hero, maybe, that I was the only one brave enough to go for the shot. Dad would have done the same if it were our family, he never would have hesitated like the others.