Mail Horror Bride (One Nation Under Zombies Book 1)

by Lee, Raymond

  Janjai didn’t know what was so curious. She’d merely found food and taken it out of the cabinet to share with the others. She shrugged it off and continued her search. The family had left behind a lot of boxed goods, either thinking only canned goods were worth taking, or maybe they simply hadn’t returned home one day, killed by zombies before they could reach the shelter of their house.

  “Nothing up there,” Maura said as she closed the cabinet above the sink.

  Janjai moved to the next set of cabinets, watching Maura squat down and open the cabinet beneath the sink from the corner of her eye. Not wanting to show too much interest and invite any commentary, she returned her attention to her task, removing two small cans of fruit cocktail from the shelf.

  “Want a drink?” Maura asked. “This looks good and I don’t know about you but I’m mighty thirsty.”

  Janjai was thirsty so she decided to look in Maura’s direction. If Maura offered her something by physically handing it over, that didn’t necessarily mean she understood English. Also, Hank thought he had taught her a few words. Drink was one of them. If Maura told her husband she understood English because of that he would just wave it off.

  The polite smile she’d been prepared to give froze on her face as she saw the bottle Maura had just set on the kitchen table before turning to retrieve two glasses from one of the cabinets.

  The bottle resembled a large bottle of juice but the black words on the white label clearly spelled out RAT POISON in marker. Janjai could only assume the original label had been destroyed or the previous owners of the house had poured the poison from another container. Since it was not the original label there were no poison warning signs, nothing that she as a foreigner who couldn’t read or speak English could point at and warn Maura away.

  The woman was good.

  Still, she wouldn’t drink it. All Janjai had to do was fake ignorance and Maura would give up the game so when Maura returned to the table with two glasses she smiled as she took hers, nodded her head and said “Thank you,” two of the simple words Hank thought he’d taught her.

  “Very welcome,” Maura said as she twisted off the bottle cap and poured the blue liquid into the two glasses. “I love blueberry flavored drinks though I’d kill for a soft drink right now. This will do.”

  Janjai had expected Maura to watch her, waiting to see if she paused before accepting the drink. She figured Maura would just stop her as she raised the glass to her mouth. She hadn’t expected Maura to grab her own glass and start to throw it back.

  Janjai’s heart stopped as she watched Maura raise the glass full of poison to her mouth without the slightest hesitation. She didn’t watch Janjai, didn’t seem to care if she drank hers. She appeared like any other thirsty woman who’d been given something to drink. No hesitation, just instant quenching.

  Then it dawned on Janjai. Just because the woman was American and could speak English it didn’t mean she could read it. The nice woman who’d helped her was going to ingest poison if she didn’t do anything to stop it.

  “No!” She grabbed the glass just as it touched Maura’s lips and yanked it away before any liquid could be consumed.

  “What the hell?”

  Maura sounded genuinely angry as Janjai poured the liquid down the sink.

  “Why’d you do that?”

  Janjai turned around, facing Maura. Biting her lip, she thought about what to do. Maura could always pour another glass. She could also tell the people she was with to throw her and Hank out. Then she’d be all alone with Hank. Pouring out all of the poison would save Maura and the others but then who would save her from being alone with Hank if Maura didn’t understand her actions and tossed them out of their group?

  With Maura fuming at her, waiting for a response, Janjai crossed over to the table and pointed at the words on the bottle.

  Maura looked at where her finger pointed and shrugged. “What?”

  Janjai pointed again, practically stabbing the bottle with her finger.

  “What?” Maura repeated.

  Janjai kept pointing until Maura shrugged and reached for the glass she’d poured for her earlier.

  “No!” Janjai grabbed that glass. “It’s poison.”

  Maura’s eyebrow shot up. “And how do you know this?”

  She pointed at the words on the label again.

  “That says poison?”

  Janjai nodded.

  Maura clicked her tongue. “There are no pictures on this little handmade label, just handwritten words. You really think I’m dumb enough to believe you recognize these handwritten words but you can’t understand English?”

  Janjai turned away but Maura grabbed her arm, halting her before she could put distance between them.

  “Jan, I can help you. You obviously trust me on some level or you would have let me drink this. There’s no need to act like you can’t understand me. It’s a freaking zombie apocalypse out there. We need to be able to communicate and help each other out. Understand?”

  Janjai angled her head so she could see through the kitchen door. There was no sign of Hank in the room beyond though she knew he would never trust her enough to be very far for long.

  Maura followed her gaze and turned back toward her, eyes hardened. “Is it him that you don’t want to know?”

  Hell, Janjai thought, Maura was right. It was a zombie apocalypse. She needed these people. She had to trust someone and that someone sure wasn’t Hank.

  “Yes,” she answered. “He is my husband. That was not a lie.”

  “Does he hurt you?”

  Jan looked away, eyes watering with shame.

  “Jan, tell me so I can help.”

  Too embarrassed to speak the words, knowing she’d only cry if she tried to put into words what Hank had done to her, Janjai turned and lifted her shirt, exposing the evidence of Hank’s last brutal session.

  Maura sucked in air before letting out a growl. “I’ll kill the bastard myself.”

  Janjai quickly turned around. “No. You can not say anything to him. He is very mean and will hurt you too.”

  Maura scoffed at this. “He has no power over me.”

  Her words burned, feeding Janjai’s shame. “You think I am weak.”

  “No, I think you’ve been used.” Maura brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “You’re a beautiful young woman in a strange country where you were forced to be dependent on a man, a bad man who used that to his advantage. A weak woman wouldn’t still be standing, and you’re smart. You fooled him into thinking you don’t speak English.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Well, I had my doubts as to how you could live here and not speak it at all. Then you paid attention to expiration dates on the food. Granted, expiration dates aren’t complicated and you could have been taught that fairly easy. It was mostly my gut, and what I saw in your eyes.”

  “What did you see?”

  “You looked like someone with a secret.”

  Janjai nodded toward the rat poison. “You are very smart. I thought you were going to wait and see if I drank, but what would you have done if I hadn’t stopped you?”

  Maura shrugged before picking up the bottle and placing it back in the cabinet beneath the sink. “Some days I think I could drink this stuff and just give up. Today isn’t such a bad day though. I would have poured it out, then yours. I would have still suspected something was up with you though. I don’t think this little experiment would have quieted my gut.”

  “You can not tell Hank.”

  “Why is that?” Maura folded her arms as she leaned a slender hip against the counter. She’d slid her machete into the sheath at her waist before searching for food so instead of busying her hand with it, she fingered the strap of the backpack she wore. “I doubt he can ship you back to China now.”

  “Thailand.”

  “My bad. Point is, you’re here to stay. America’s got bigger issues to deal with than some little Asian woman wanting to be one of us. They’ll hav
e to deport the zombies before they deport anyone else.”

  “That may be true but it will not stop Hank from hurting me. I am his wife. His property.”

  Maura stepped forward, nostrils flaring. “OK, I don’t know how y’all do things in Thailand but in America you are no man’s property. Not even your husband’s. Got that?”

  Janjai nodded. “Hank believes differently. If he knew I lied about not speaking English, that I have deceived him all this time, he will be furious. He will kill me.”

  “Why did you lie about it?”

  “My mother told my sister and I to choose our husbands carefully but to still be cautious. She said to pretend we didn’t speak the language so that our husbands would speak freely around us and we would know exactly what kind of character he had. If our husband had good character we could trust him enough to confess we spoke the language. If he had bad character, we should pretend ignorance until we had our citizenship, then he would be unsuspecting when we planned our escape and divorce.”

  “You have a sister here?”

  Janjai wiped away a fresh tear. “If she is alive. She lives in Colorado with her husband. She was lucky to find a good husband. He has never hit her. I tried to escape after the outbreak, to find her. Hank woke up and caught me as the infected people attacked. His friend was killed, or infected. I’m not sure which. It happened so fast. Hank blames me. The scars on my back are from that night.”

  “Why did you marry Americans?”

  “My mother became very ill. We were already poor and there were not many men to choose from in our village. A friend’s sister had married an American and the man was good to her family. He sent money to them. My sister and I discussed it and decided we would marry American men so we would have opportunities that we could not get where we came from, and we received money to provide our mother’s medical care. The last letter I received from my mother, she told me Pimjai was going to send for her next year.”

  “So you did it for your mother?”

  “Our mother would bathe in fire for us. What we did for her seemed so little in comparison.”

  “Did you know Hank was abusive?”

  “No, he of course did not portray himself that way, but we both knew the risk we took. We both felt it was worth it to get medical care for our mother. Pimjai was fortunate. I was not, but I would do it again if it meant saving my mother.”

  “I’m going to share a little secret with you, Jan. I don’t like mail-order brides. But I like you.”

  Janjai frowned in confusion. “I suppose I should thank you?”

  Maura shook her head. “Thank me when I do something for you, like get rid of that bastard.”

  “Get rid of how?” Alarm bells sounded in Janjai’s mind. “I can not return his violence with violence. His soul is already black. I will not allow him to blacken mine.”

  Maura tilted her head to the side, seeming to ponder this. “OK, but there are other ways. When we leave here, we don’t have to take him. We don’t have to take anyone if we don’t want to.”

  “You are not friends with the others?”

  “Just met them,” Maura said. “They gave me a ride when I needed it, but I have no loyalty to them yet. I decided to stick around and make sure everything was legit, for the girl’s sake. A little tip, Jan. Never give a man one hundred percent of your trust. They’re always looking for something better and will screw you over the minute they think they find it.”

  “You have been married?”

  “No. I would have, but that guy thought he found something better. I got his heart back in the end, but I shouldn’t have had to. Men can’t be trusted completely. Ever. Understand?”

  Janjai nodded. She didn’t add that she was learning not to trust anyone completely at all, male or female. She kept that to herself. Maura was a nice woman but something about her reminded Janjai of a dog she had known during her childhood. It was sweet and loving, protective even, but if you looked at it the wrong way it’d bite the very hand you’d been feeding it with.

  “Somewhere you need to be?”

  Maura quickly whipped her head around to face him. “What?”

  Hank finished climbing the porch steps and pounded on the front door. He turned toward his partner as they waited to see if the noise he’d just made caused any commotion inside the house. “You keep looking around.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, there are dead people walking around,” Maura replied drily. “It doesn’t hurt being aware of your surroundings.”

  “True, but your gaze seems to keep resting on the house we claimed, like you’re worried about something.”

  “To be honest, I would have rather you taken Hank on this scavenger hunt. I don’t feel right leaving those three behind.”

  “I needed the most physically fit person I had to come with me. This is dangerous.”

  “It’s not dangerous leaving them behind?”

  “Hank and Angela have guns. They know how to shoot them. If zombies attack, we’ll hear the gunshots.”

  “What if zombies aren’t the problem?” Maura countered. “You don’t know Hank. What if he’s a pervert or something?”

  “Like I said, Angela has a gun and knows how to shoot.”

  “You should have brought Hank.”

  “I doubt Hank could run as fast as you if things go bad. Are you afraid or something?”

  “Not of anything out here.”

  Hal frowned. “Afraid of something back there?”

  Maura stepped forward and cupped her hands over the glass, peering through the living room window. “It’s been long enough. If something dead was walking around inside it would have made itself known.”

  Hal knew she was avoiding answering, but he also knew they were running out of daylight and the three previous houses they’d searched hadn’t turned up anything useful. Those owners had picked their property clean before leaving. The house they’d chosen to stay in had a small amount of food but nothing drinkable. They also didn’t find any light sources for when it grew dark. They needed something more than the one flashlight they’d had in the van.

  He stepped back to the edge of the porch and ran forward, hitting the door with his shoulder. It opened.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” Maura commented. “Were you a linebacker in high school or something?”

  “Nah, just big,” Hal responded, rubbing his shoulder as they stepped inside. They each carried garbage bags they’d found inside the house they were staying in and Hal had a backpack he’d rummaged from one of the closets. Maura still wore the backpack she’d had when he and Angela found her. She never seemed to part with it.

  Hal had his gun, but wouldn’t use it unless absolutely necessary. Beside the fact that he didn’t want to use up all his bullets, the sound would draw more zombies. Paul’s machete was strapped to his waist. Maura also had one sheathed at her side.

  “Where’d you get that anyway?”

  “Get what?”

  “Machete.” He nodded toward the weapon before he motioned for her to take the right side of the living room while he took the left. “It’s not the type of thing people just keep laying around.”

  “My fiancé was military,” she answered. “He had a lot of weapons, a lot of guns. I didn’t take any of those because I don’t know how to properly handle one. I’ve seen enough YouTube videos showing what happens to idiots who attempt to shoot without any training.”

  Hal groaned. “It would have been nice to have those.”

  “Sorry.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know I’d run into anyone else who’d need them. I didn’t really plan on grouping up with others.”

  “You’d never make it alone.” Hal studied a family photo sitting on a desk. Nice looking family, all blue eyes and blonde curls. He cringed thinking what might have happened to them and hoped for the best.

  “I found some candles,” Maura announced. “They’re the scented kind but they still do the job.”

  “Scavengers
can’t be choosers,” Hal agreed as he watched her remove the candles from the mantle and stuff them inside her Hefty bag. “I think that’s it for this room.”

  “Let’s take the upstairs first,” Maura recommended.

  Seeing no reason not to, Hal led the way, taking the steps slowly in case anything jumped out at them. So far their scavenging mission had been uneventful but he knew better than to let his guard down. There was no way the entire area was zombie-free. Eventually they had to run into a few.

  They searched the master bedroom first. Hal found Tylenol on one of the nightstands and a lighter. He opened the drawers and rifled through the papers and money there. He almost pocketed the money, but decided against it. For now, money was useless. If the country got itself back in order he would worry about money then. Finding nothing else useful, he closed the drawers and looked up to see Maura reading papers, her nose turned up in disgust.

  “What is it?”

  “Looks like the woman who lived here was a Russian mail-order bride.” She dropped the papers back into the drawer and slammed it closed. “Let’s just go. Anything here is probably contaminated.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. The disease is spread through blood, saliva, or sex.”

  “As far as we’ve been told and we haven’t been told anything in a long time.” She frowned. “Do we even have a government anymore? Is anyone doing anything about this?”

  “You know the president would have been the first person protected and of course the CDC would still function. I’m sure a cure is being worked on,” Hal reassured her. “Angela’s father was ex-military and a survivalist. I was staying there in their house after this first happened. I used his radio to make contact with others after the internet went down. We aren’t the only survivors. This thing hit every state in staggering numbers, but there are survivors and they’re going to make it just like we are.

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “As long as there are good people left in this world there is hope, and as long as there is hope there’s a way.”