Resurrection of the Fallen (Book 1): Surviving New York

by Misti Vanhoy

  I picked up on disorderly shelves like a magnet. It was easy to spot the ones that had books missing; some of them more than others. The corners of my mouth twitched in the pure disgust I felt for the messy way that the librarians had left this place. They must’ve been far too lazy to pack the books together until the ones that were missing had been returned. It was no wonder why people didn’t want to come into libraries any longer.

  I shook my head and kept looking. I had no idea what I was searching for. The most I would find here would be books and reference materials that we hadn’t already swiped for our own purposes. All the same, I felt compelled to get up and look around for anything that might catch my eye. After all, it was much more time consuming than staring at the ceiling while Morgan slept peacefully. Maybe I could find an interesting book to read while I waited.

  I circled around a few of the tables closest to where she lay snoozing, piddling through the magazines that had been left in a hurry to escape the attacks. You could tell the type of people and the interests foremost in their minds by the pile of magazines they had left where they once sat at. A pile of bridal magazines for one chair, a pile of teen’s pop magazines for another, and some NRA magazines in front of the chair that had been thrown backward to the ground behind them. No doubt he was the protector of the other two seated around him. I found myself thinking for just a moment if he had helped them to survive or if they had fallen like the majority of the population that tempted fate that day. Then I laughed out loud. I couldn’t give two shits about any of them. I was actually amused at the thought of their fate. Wish I would’ve been there to see it all happen.

  I craned my neck to look over at the single table sitting farthest from the center of the library where I now stood. There were piles of books and magazines lying in front of one of the chairs there. A single chair, once occupied by someone doing some serious digging into the contents that this library offered to its patrons, picked away at my curiosity until I couldn’t contain it any longer. The pile was large enough to grab anyone’s interest.

  I cautiously walked over to the table, unsure of what I might find among the piles of books and magazines. I was hoping for something kinky that I could play with in my mind the next few days, but, honestly, I was hoping for it to be something of the ordinary. I just couldn’t see someone pulling out weird books to look at while a family sat not far from them. That is, unless that kind of thing gave them satisfaction to some degree that I wouldn’t even feel; and I was a sick little bitch.

  The books were stacked neatly together the same exact way that I would stack my school books together when I was in high school. The way that each stack was organized by size of the object put me in the mind of someone with the same syndrome that I had. Dealing with this world for the past four years, I wouldn’t wish that shit on anyone whatsoever. OCD is hard enough to deal with in a normal world, but absolutely unbearable in this one. That poor, narcissistic bastard needed to have died right out of the gate. If not, they probably killed themselves after dealing with this mess for a while.

  The top two objects were related in subject to one another. The book, titled Evil in All Its Glory, was a well-known book among our generation. It was listed as nonfiction and depicted instances where the author had evidence that evil walked among us all, waiting for those naïve people to fall victim to their deceitful ways. I knew that to be true. Hell, I was evil in my own ways. Luring innocent, young boys into alleyways just to slit their throats was something that I had perfected over the years. I thoroughly enjoyed watching them cough up blood as they tried to breathe. Watching them pass away slowly with me as their last vision was Heaven in my world. I have never been caught, either. A plus for me, but bad police work in this entire state.

  The magazine itself was one of those wacky, off-the-wall magazines where people would send in their photos they had taken of weird phenomenon happening all over the world. The front cover, torn at the edges, depicted a devilish imp with the headline, “The Devil Walks among Us.” I smirked to myself and snatched it up. I carelessly ripped the magazine in half, and then again, before throwing it onto the floor underneath the table.

  Whoever this person was that had been here, they were a fool to read bullshit like that. The Devil?! HA! What kind of fool would believe in that nonsense? The only thing that was here before the zombies was people like me. The Devil couldn’t be bothered to do any work himself when he had a whole army doing his bidding, sending him souls every hour. I shook my head and continued on in my search of the building.

  I didn’t find much more of interest other than a few vending machines full of snacks and soda pop. The pop was something that I knew wouldn’t be viable after four years of changing temperatures in a box that did little to protect them from the conditions that created a playground for nasty bacteria. If someone would drink that, they wouldn’t have to worry about the zombie virus getting its grubs on them. They’d die of stomach irritation before the virus could get to them.

  I gave up on my search and meandered back to where Morgan was still sleeping away. Her face had taken on a different expression to it. It was no longer the peaceful face that I loved to see, but one that was riddled by worry. I knew that sleep wouldn’t hold her much longer and that she would join me in the land of the living against my wishes. Our trip back to the hotel that we called home would commence not long after and I would have to give her up to her family once more. I regretted that fact, but knew that it would all work out in my favor some day. I just had to be patient.

  Chapter 11

  I laid there for a moment after rousing myself, soaking up everything that I had just done before my nap. It was the most consuming thing that I had experienced in a long time. That wasn’t saying much, but to me it was something I desperately needed. A good experience I could use to overlook this four-year-long horrible mess and a sweet memory to come back to when I needed a pick-me-up for my soul. I only had to overlook the fact that it was with another woman. I could always insert a man in her place within my memory and pretend that this hadn’t happened the way that it did.

  Reagan had put her clothes back on a while ago apparently; maybe right after I had fallen to sleep. I just didn’t want to lose the moment quite yet so I continued to lie there, feigning sleep. “We need to get back soon or it’s going to be harder to leave,” Reagan broke through my train of thoughts. I looked up to see her picking up the maps from where I had dropped them earlier.

  “I know… I just don’t want to leave yet,” I replied, stretching out my tired muscles. She smiled a devilish smile before kicking me in the leg.

  “We don’t want to be caught out after dark, zombie blood or no zombie blood.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I just don’t want to ruin the moment. But that’s fine. I’m getting up now.” I rose slowly, regretting having family to go back to. If it wasn’t for them and my dad’s harsh way of running things, I wouldn’t have to leave here. I could stay here all night with Reagan without a worry.

  I gathered up my clothes and put them on slowly. I hoped she’d change her mind even though my dad’s wrath would be great for disappearing for so long. “We should look for a vending machine or something so we can take food back to butter up my dad,” I said absently as I pulled my shirt over my head.

  “I already found one earlier. Come on, I’ll show you.” With that, she turned and walked away toward the direction she had inspected earlier. I laced my boots up and ran to catch up. There was a couple vending machines standing side by side chock full of candies, chips, and crackers. One contained soft drinks, but I knew there was no need to even try to get them out. They would have grown bacteria and mold long ago. I unhooked my knife sheath and held it with the butt facing the vending machine standing in front of me. I hauled back and struck the plastic with everything I had. The plastic didn’t break, but I left behind a web pattern about a hand’s width in size. I hauled back and stuck it in the same place twice more before it shattered into a mil
lion places.

  “We can’t really carry all this. We need something to put it in,” Reagan said as she filled her arms full with chips and crackers.

  “They probably have some bags back behind the desk,” I replied as I ran to go check. I pulled out a dozen or so plastic bags and silently thanked the Heavens that this place had been so welcoming for us and was easy to pick clean of its valuables. I ran back to Reagan to get everything put away so we could leave. Hunger was taking over now that I was up and moving around. I couldn’t wait to get these goodies back home to share. I could see the look on Sammy’s face when she got a candy bar and some crackers for the night. Neither one of us had been able to tame our sweet tooth during this whole mess.

  I caught Reagan slipping candies and crackers into her pockets from the corner of my eye. “What are you doing? We have to split it with everyone else,” I said, shocked that she would do this to the group. In all reality, had I not just slept with her it probably wouldn’t have shocked me as much.

  “Oh, come on! I need to regain some strength after what we just did. Beside, I’m entitled to a little extra. I’m putting my neck out on the line for your family and Brantley just so we can find a way to get to a better home,” she added, stuffing another pack of crackers down her shirt.

  “All I’m saying is we can’t be greedy right now. You know how hard it is to find food. We’ve cleaned out most that was still good. We’ve got just a few more weeks or so before we have to venture out farther from the safe zone. We need to preserve, not hoard,” I replied, viewing her as though she were a child in that moment. After all these years, how could someone be this way toward their teammates? I had a bad feeling about her actions. She’d better hope she doesn’t do anything stupid when we move out. I’ll kill her myself if she puts my family in one more bind. I wouldn’t hold back one ounce of anger and strength against her.

  Chapter 12

  When we had packed up the last of the food into our bags, we headed for the front doors. I took one last glance at this marvelous place of untouched architecture before sneaking a peek out the doors. Nothing had changed other than the sun almost setting. We had wasted too much time and hadn’t brought a flashlight with us. My heart sank as I watched the groups starting to stir from their faked slumber. This was the reason why I didn’t want to give into my desires.

  “We’re doomed. How are we going to make it back if we can’t see as well as they do? We’ll be easy targets, even with blood-soaked shirts,” I said as my heart hit the floor. This was my worst nightmare. This was why hormones and sex drives were bad in our world. It left you worse off than you were beforehand.

  “If we can make it past the alley we hid in earlier, we should be just fine. We could stick to the walls to feel our way back where the light doesn’t reach,” Reagan replied as she prepared to open the doors.

  “We can’t feel our way back! It’ll be a dead giveaway. Those things can see no matter what. The light doesn’t reach here well enough to blind them completely.”

  “Well, what do you want me to do about it, huh?! I only went along with your plan. I didn’t come up with it!”

  “I didn’t plan on wasting the day away having sex and taking food. That was you.”

  “Excuse me for satiating my thirst. It’s only been four years.” She shouldered her bags and pushed open the doors. That was her way of saying she’d had enough already. Her childishness when confronted about her screw ups worked on anyone’s nerves. I rolled my eyes and followed, thinking that our attitudes were going to get us killed someday. One way or another, they would be our downfall. Maybe today would be that day!

  We crept along as well as we could, dodging zombies as they shuffled around in search of food. For now, our shirts kept us safe from them. The only thing that bothered me was that it wouldn’t work so well if we came across one that was hungry enough to eat another zombie. I felt they could hear my heart racing even though they had no reaction to it. I could just be going crazy, but weren’t we all? Living like this was bound to make us that way.

  Feeling our way down every street and alleyway with the aid of the night light, we finally reached our hotel. A red scarf hung from the balcony, signaling us that my dad was going to be pissed when we walked through that door. He had developed a warning system for his moods since the outbreak and made good use of it. That happened once Reagan, Brantley, and I had disappeared farther into the city and stayed gone for three days. We almost died when Reagan got us stuck in a dead end alleyway. We had to develop a way to climb over the wall to escape and Brantley walked away without one of his shoes. A red scarf was for anger, a green one for cold shoulder, and a blue one for ‘please make it back safely.’ No scarf meant that he didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone making it home or being gone, which usually followed closely behind the green one. Blue scarves were hard for him to put out. It seemed like he only really had two sides to his personality.

  Climbing the stairs, I found myself having to take deep breaths to calm myself. It was nerve-wracking knowing what I was about to walk in to. I knew it wouldn’t be pretty, either. That man had a rage burning inside him like no other. When warranted, he’d lash out at someone so fiery that one would think he’d burnt them. He was worse on his children, especially if Reagan was involved in the issue. I stood no chance of coming out of this intact.

  I stopped in front of our apartment door, too afraid to go in. I could hear pacing on the other side and the words coming out of my dad’s mouth were spit out covered in venom. He had never talked about me in this manner and I couldn’t help feeling two feet tall. He never sounded so disappointed in me before. “I swear to GOD I will beat her senseless when she walks through that door! Where the fuck did they go?! I can’t believe she would be so stupid and reckless to do something like this! We always decide together. That little bitch got inside her head, I just know it. They’re nothing but whores, the both of them. Stupid fucking whores that don’t do as they’re told. If she doesn’t die, I’ll kill her myself!” he was yelling, apparently talking to Brantley.

  Reagan’s hand landed softly on my shoulder and she squeezed slightly. I shrugged off her hand, upset with her even though she was trying to comfort me. She had to go and get my guard down and cause us to be late. Now my dad was in the hotel room saying he was going to kill me if the zombies didn’t do it for him. I blamed her completely for holding me up. She was manipulative, dirty, and downright ignorant to anything that didn’t fit into her schemes. I had fallen victim to her and it had costed me more than it was worth. I had to face this, though, so I pushed my shoulders back in defiance and walked through the door.

  I was met with a barrage of curses and questions. My dad’s face was flushed red with rage and was contorted in the scariest expression I had ever seen. It was as though he had been possessed by something evil to the core. “Where the HELL have you been?! What the HELL do you think you were doing?! I am so disappointed in you, young lady, and you are DONE!” he yelled right into my face. He repeatedly spit at me as he spoke from fuming.

  Reagan slipped between us and proceeded to poke him in the shoulder several times. “Who do you think you are talking to her like that?! She went to get food and find a way to get us somewhere safe! That’s more than you’ve done in a long time!” Reagan yelled with the same intensity as my dad had been doing. His face flushed an even brighter red, much to my amazement. She had provoked the bear. This was going to be bad…

  His hand went up above his head and he brought it down on Reagan with every bit of force he could muster. It connected with her face and knocked her to the ground with a hard thud. Her head bounced off the coffee table, leaving her unconscious and bleeding from a head wound. His attention turned back to me. He charged up to me and stopped with his face inches from mine. I flinched as he hauled back to slap me like he had Reagan, but Samantha grabbed his arm and wouldn’t let go. The expression on her face wasn’t Samantha. She had never looked so vicious in her life, especially n
ot toward one of us. It made something snapped within my dad.

  He backed away to sit on the couch and just stared at his two daughters standing side by side. He had never been defied so immensely before. He had never been shaken to the core like this, but he had never hit a woman, either. Samantha’s action made his face contort in shock and regret. “Leave her alone, daddy. She didn’t do anything wrong. She’s trying to protect all of us,” she said with a glance my way. The first thing she had really said in four years and it was for my protection. She was coming out of her comfort zone for me… I couldn’t help but to think how I had been an awful sister and, despite my flaws, she still chose me over our dad. I was as shocked as he was.

  My dad bowed his head in shame and started weeping softly. I could see his shoulders bouncing up and down as he cried. His head moved back and forth as though he was trying to convince himself that she was wrong. It was in the moment that I realized the reason for his behavior this whole time: he was breaking. He was desperately trying to hold onto all that he had left to keep him sane and we were turning against him. He knew it and became stricter to try to combat it. The more he fought it, the worse the situation would become. He couldn’t handle not being in control of everything we did or being called out for his bullshit by his own children. He was slipping and this was more than likely his last straw. What he would do next, we couldn’t be sure about. I just hoped that he didn’t do anything stupid to get us all in a bind.

  We stood before this once-proud man as he wept in silence. We didn’t move, except for Brantley checking on Reagan and cleaning up her wound. Suddenly, the world ceased to turn as I contemplated what would happen. We had seen many people over the last four years go out this way. Sooner or later, he would snap and could take all of us down with him. He could inevitably end all of our lives with one move.