The Most Uncommon Cold (Book 5): Surviving Beyond the Zombie Apocalypse

by Jeffrey Littorno

  “I think we just need to be patient,” Kat said. “I bet they will turn up soon.”

  Kat’s words made me a little curious. If we were unable to find them, chances are they had left somehow.

  I started to say something to that effect when Kat cut me off. “Christina, why don’t you go see what Taylor is doing. Maybe he’s seen Mikey.”

  “Okie dokie,” she answered, dashing off. I watched her run off for a moment

  “Just be patient, really?”

  Kat shook her head. “There’s an open window in there. It looks like they must’ve snuck out.”

  The idea seemed ridiculous. “Why would Mikey and his mother take a chance like that?”

  As the question left my mouth, the answer came to me. The only reason to sneak out of the terminal would be if you had a reason for avoiding the soldiers. Since the general had always made it clear that anyone was free to go out if they wished, the boy’s mother had no reason to believe she would be prevented from leaving. Unless…

  Kat and I spoke at the same time, “Mikey is sick.”

  I felt a little sick myself at the possibility. “There must be some other reason. Something else we don’t know about.” Even as I spoke I wondered if I was trying to do anything other than convince myself.

  Kat recognized my state of denial. “Well, I hope you’re right. I really do, but we have to consider the possibility that you’re not.” She carefully watched my reaction. “No mother would put her son in danger by leaving the terminal and facing the zombies outside unless staying presented more of a risk.”

  “That means,” I started and then finished together with Kat. “Mikey is sick.”

  “Of course, we might be totally wrong. Mikey and his mom might be sleeping somewhere else in the terminal,” Kat tried to sound as though she truly believed her words. However, her eyes betrayed her.

  “Well, let’s keep looking,” I offered.

  We looked all over the terminal, in the other restrooms, around the dining area, and in the smoking room. Neither Mikey nor his mother were anywhere to be found. Kat and I talked to a number of people about where Mikey and his mother might be. The general response was something about not having noticed their absence and that it had been several hours since anyone had any memory of seeing them. The idea that this woman had simply disappeared with her young son became more disturbing as time passed.

  “Well, I’d say they’re definitely gone, and we’ll probably never know exactly why,” I finally said to Kat. “I’m certainly not going to go looking for them, especially since we’ve got a way out of here in the morning.”

  Kat did her best to smile as her eyes showed some concern. “Okay, let’s try to concentrate on that.”

  We found Christina and Taylor in a group of young people. I watched with amusement as Taylor tried to maintain his cool teenage image as Christina kept pulling on him for attention. “Some things never change, even in the middle of a global catastrophe,” I thought.

  We sat together and ate the rations the soldiers handed out to us. Everyone was clearly in a much more positive mood than ever. That may have been the reason that the plain military meal tasted better than ever. I listened to Christina tell a story about how she wanted to learn to swim like a mermaid around the island, which would be our new home. Taylor laughed and commented, but I also caught a number of glances over at a cute Asian girl in another group. Kat and I held hands like teenagers and shared an occasional kiss to which our young companions reacted noisily.

  After dinner as I carried the empty ration packs to the trash cans, I sensed the presence of someone walking closely behind me. I turned to find Curly, the solid young man who had interrupted me earlier. For a moment, I figured he had come looking to act upon his frustration and tensed for a confrontation.

  Before I had a chance to say anything and try to defuse the situation, Curly stuck out his hand. “Hey, man, sorry about being such a douche before.”

  I shook his hand. “No problem. We’ve all heard a whole lot of BS in the past few months. I don’t blame you for being suspicious.”

  Curly nodded and pulled me in for one of those kind of half embrace-shoulder bump-backrub things that young men do. I did my best to hide my awkwardness.

  “Okay, see you in the morning, bro.” Curly turned and walked away.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “See you in the morning, bro.” I barely contained my laughter at having used the word bro.

  The rest of the evening was very pleasant. People moved around the terminal greeting others and sharing positive feelings about the impending journey to what they hoped would be an island paradise.

  The groups slowly broke up as people headed to what had become regular sleeping areas. Taylor came over after his female companions had to join their families.

  We talked for a while before heading off for what we hoped would be nice dreams. Christina moved into an area as close to Taylor as he would allow and went to sleep. Kat and I snuggled and kissed for a bit before fading off to sleep.

  Chapter 17

  I enjoyed a deep, dreamless sleep until someone shook me awake.

  “C’mon, Kevin, wake up.”

  It took me a few seconds to remember where I was and to recognize Kat’s face in the dimly-lit terminal.

  I bolted up. “What’s wrong?” I looked over to see the sleeping forms of Christina and Taylor.

  Kat giggled quietly. “Nothing’s wrong. Let’s go.” She stood and pulled on her pants.

  “Where we going? What time is it?” I mumbled, wiping my eyes.

  “Just follow me,” Kat whispered and took my hand.

  She led me through the dark terminal. We crept past groups of sleeping people to the women’s restroom at the end of the terminal.

  As soon as we entered the room, the automatic overhead lights came on and filled the area with brightness. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Kat stood looking at me with a seductive smile.

  One of the stalls had a yellowing piece of paper taped to the door: Out of Order. This is where the exciting young woman led me.

  Not to brag or anything, but I have had sex, made love, in a variety of unusual places and not always with the most satisfying results. The only thing that matters is that early morning with Kat in the bathroom stall of the Tiburon Ferry Terminal had to be the most satisfying, pleasurable experience of my lifetime. As we started to kiss, everything else melted away until all that remained was the two of us exploring each other until we reached an incredible destination.

  After we finished, it was difficult to return to the reality of our situation. I sat on the toilet and held Kat tightly for a long time. We were sitting like this when we heard someone enter the restroom.

  Kat started to giggle, but I put my hand over her mouth to quiet her. After a moment, she bit me gently until I removed my hand.

  We listened carefully for any sound to tell us what the visitor was doing. The door of the stall next to us squeaked open and clicked as the bolt slipped into place.

  Kat made funny faces, trying to get me to laugh. Instead, I looked at her with an exaggerated stern face, complete with furrowed brow.

  When the trickling sound started, we both nearly exploded with laughter. Fortunately, we remained silent, and after a few minutes, the person left the restroom.

  “Feels like I’m back in high school,” Kat said.

  “You did this in high school?” I asked. Before she could answer, I said, “All I know is that was incredible, and now I want to curl up next to you and sleep.”

  That is exactly what I did for the next three hours.

  People had already begun moving quietly around the terminal when I awoke at 4 am. Given the coming events of the day, the restlessness was understandable.

  Smiling as I recalled the time spent in the stall of the restroom, I reached for Kat but found only an empty space. I sat up and saw her folding some towels and a couple of shirts Christina and Taylor had brought with them. She looked over at
me and smiled.

  I glanced over at where they had been sleeping but saw no sign of Taylor or Christina.

  “They’re supposed to be cleaning up in the restroom, but I suspect they’re playing somewhere,” Kat said, reading my mind.

  I crawled over to where she was and pulled her down on top of me. We shared a long, deep kiss.

  “I love you,” I said without thinking.

  “And I love you,” she answered and punctuated it with a kiss.

  We lie together for a long time until I dozed off. When I woke up again, Kat was staring at me as her head rested on my arm.

  “Boarding will begin shortly!” One of the soldiers announced, shattering the quiet.

  We jumped up and began gathering belongings. I looked at the pistol the general had given me, wondering if I would ever need it again. After a moment, I tucked it into my belt.

  “Where are Christina and Taylor?” I asked, experiencing the same panic any parent of a missing child must have.

  Kat looked around and then as if to reassure me as well as herself, said, “I bet they’re already in line.”

  I nodded and tried to convince myself that her words were more than simply wishful thinking.

  We walked over to where the line to the boarding gate was already forming, but saw no sign of them. Curly had taken up position near the front of the line, and I asked if he had seen either. He had not but offered to help me look. I considered his offer and thanked him but did not want to delay his boarding.

  No one we asked had seen them. The line began moving quickly toward the gate, and I told Kat to wait in line and board in case I missed them and they got on the ship. She reluctantly agreed. I kissed her quickly and hurried off.

  With no clear idea of where to look, I scurried around the terminal. I pushed my face near a corner in the big front windows now covered with plywood. A gap between the sheets of wood gave me a slight glimpse of the area in front of the terminal. With my limited view, I could see no movement.

  It suddenly occurred to me the restrooms were the most likely place for them to be. I sprinted to the first of the lavatories. I stood at the entrance and yelled, “Taylor! Christina!” The returning echo of my words came as the only reply. I ran in and gave the place a quick search to confirm its emptiness.

  I repeated this process for two more restrooms. Finally, I stood at the entrance of the last one. This was the place Kat and I had shared an unforgettable respite from the horror of the outside world. The tension and excitement returned for a few fleeting seconds before it got replaced by fear and a sense of overwhelming dread.

  I had to force my uncooperative legs to move forward and carry me into the brightly lit, cream-tiled restroom. The squeak of my shoes on the floor was the only sound. At least, it was the only sound I heard at first.

  As I moved into the room, there was something else. It sounded like some sort of slapping. The sort of noise you would hear in a fish market as the live fish flopped around gasping for air before having their heads chopped off.

  I moved slowly towards the sound. Naturally, the sound led me to the door of the stall upon which a paper saying Out of Order had been taped.

  I stood there listening to the slapping sound for a long time. It finally stopped, and I pushed the door open slowly. The first thing I saw were the legs stretching out from the toilet. I looked up to see Taylor leaning backward across the toilet with his throat torn open and blood still oozing down his front. He suddenly twitched, and I recognized this as the slapping sound I’d been hearing. I pushed the stall door completely open and saw the blood covering the floor. His eyes were still and staring blankly at the ceiling.

  “No,” I cried softly and reached out to push his eyelids down. “I’m sorry.”

  As soon as I brushed Taylor’s eyes closed, they shot back open, tickling my hand with his eyelashes.

  “Christina, we gotta get going,” Taylor wheezed, struggling to get up from the toilet.

  “Taylor, don’t move,” I commanded. “Let me look at your throat.”

  His face turned slowly in my direction as if seeing me for the first time.

  “Christina, we gotta get going,” the young man repeated with frustration.

  I wondered what had become of the little girl, and, at that moment, Taylor lunged toward me. I took a step backward and managed to avoid his grasp but slipped in the blood covering the floor. I landed flat on my back, knocking the wind out of me. My head stuck out of the stall, but my body remained inside. I gasped for air as I turned to the right to see Christina huddled as if hiding in the corner under a sink.

  Before I could catch my breath and call to her, Taylor jumped on top of me. I held him away from me, and the blood from his neck dripped down on me.

  I looked up into the dead eyes and said, “Taylor, there’s got to be something of you left inside.”

  I felt or thought I felt his arms loosen a little. “You do remember me, don’t you?”

  I pushed with all the strength left in me, and Taylor rolled off of me and lie still. Jumping to my feet, I grabbed the gun from my belt. I looked at the motionless body on the floor.

  “Taylor, are you still in there?”

  No response.

  I aimed the gun at him. Actually, it could not be him, I told myself. I would never shoot Taylor, but this imposter did not belong. My hands began shaking as I pointed at the shape on the floor. I stayed like that for a long time. “This is not Taylor,” my brain repeated, but my fingers would not listen and squeeze the trigger.

  I lowered the gun, trying to gather my strength at the same time the shell of Taylor rolled over and grabbed my ankle. I howled from pain as the fingernails dug into my skin. I fired the pistol down into the top of the shell’s head, which exploded like a melon, spraying blood and bone and brain all over the stall and me.

  “Goddammit!” I screamed. I might have screamed more if Christina had not grabbed my arm before I could.

  “I don’t feel so good,” she said quietly.

  I glanced at her and with my free hand pulled the stall door closed. The last thing she needed to see was something that looked like Taylor sprayed all over the place.

  I turned toward her and took my hand which still held the gun away from her. I spread my arms to lift her up.

  “I don’t feel so good,” Christina repeated, and I winced as her small teeth sunk into my shoulder.

  I don’t remember any pain at all as I threw her off of me. The shell of Christina hit the floor with a sickening thud and was still. An instant later, the small shell scrambled across the floor toward me. I raised the gun and said, “I’m sorry.”

  The shot hit the shell in the right cheek and tore away its face. The impact threw it backwards like a rag doll into the wall. The form remained bent and still, but I stared at it for a long time.

  Finally, I turned and walked out of the bathroom. The terminal had become completely deserted. I trudged toward the boarding gate. Now, the pain in my shoulder became intense. I reached over to touch it gingerly and pulled back a hand covered in blood. I felt dizzy at the sight of it, but I kept moving toward the gate. The gun hung limply in my right hand, though I was no longer aware of it. The only thing I focused upon was the boarding gate.

  I got about fifty feet from the glass door leading from the terminal down a corridor to the boarding ramp and spotted Kat. She was standing just inside, having what appeared to be an animated conversation with General Thompson.

  I smiled at the sight of her energy and determination. I loved her; that was a certainty.

  She must have caught my movement out of the corner of her eye, because Kat immediately turned toward me and then grabbed the general to show him I was standing outside the door.

  I mouthed the words I love you. Kat smiled and repeated the words to me.

  The last thing I saw was her smile fade as I lifted the gun under my chin and pulled the trigger.

  I hope you enjoyed The Most Uncommon V: Surviving Beyond the Z
ombie Apocalypse.

  Please take a sneak peak at my latest work Near Death due out at the end of 2015.

  From his position in bed, Mike could just see the corner of the nurse’s station in the hallway. On other nights, he had heard the nurses talking or working on computers or answering phones. Now he heard no sound from the area. In fact, he heard no sound from anywhere. Even the machines which were constantly beeping or humming seemed to have gone quiet. Under ordinary circumstance and in an ordinary state of mind, he would have stopped to consider these odd facts. However, these were nowhere near ordinary circumstances, and Mike was a long way from an ordinary state of mind.

  He slid slowly off the bed, all the while expecting someone to rush into the room to stop him. As his feet touched the floor, he paused as if waiting for a hand to touch him. Nothing touched him, and he continued his unsteady movement from the bed. Since waking to find himself in the hospital, Mike had not been allowed to venture alone from the bed. Now, to his surprise, he was taking unfettered, unsupervised steps. The notion of breaking the rules brought a grin to his face.

  When he reached the doorway, Mike could not resist turning to take a look back at his room. It was as if somehow he knew that this was the last chance he would have to see the room. Or maybe he was just curious to see the room from this new angle. In any case, the teacher turned back around and walked into the brightly-lit hallway.

  He squinted at the bright light which seemed to give everything a painfully intense glow. Through the haze of light, Mike searched for any signs of the hospital staff but saw no one. The thought of seeing Doctor Dixon gave him a comforting sensation, and he immediately decided that this was the goal of his quest. He looked down the long, empty corridor to the right and then to the left. He wondered at the absolute emptiness of the place before catching sight of some movement down the hall to his right.

  A dark wooden door had slowly opened, and Mike heard the creak of its worn hinges.

  Without thinking about it, he began trotting toward the door. However, he soon discovered the limitations of his body made his trotting more like shuffling. He felt slight frustration at being unable to move quickly but made it to the door soon enough.