Anno Zombus Year 1 (Book 1): January

by Dave Rowlands

  January 14th Year 1 A.Z.

  dawn

  We awoke with the dawn. The sky was grey, looking as if about to bucket upon us millions of kilolitres of water at any moment. The Kid was inside, chatting away with Butcher who was preparing breakfast for everyone. By the time we all piled into the vehicles it had begun, raining great big squishy raindrops, splattering greyly on the windshield of the Valiant as Apocalypse Girl drove us further to the east. The rain seemed strange, it seemed a grey sludge was forming on the wipers as we drove, the torrential downpour threatened to continue for eternity. The roads were wet and slippery, and after a while Apocalypse Girl gave the agreed on two honks of the horn and we stopped. By now the rain had worsened and lightning flashed across the sky. It was the only time we could see, for a brief period, but it was welcomed every time. Until a bolt struck the top of a nearby tree, when we were all blinded.

  unknown-suspect late afternoon

  The rain has still not stopped. We can hear nothing but the rain, we can see nothing but the rain. I'm starting to think it will never stop. Nothing else to do but smoke ourselves stupid at the moment. Can't see to drive, can't get out of the car, because we can't see and the Dead could be inches away before they're detected. Gradually the grey sludge pelting the windows darkened to black sludge as night fell. We could no more move in this than in a blizzard. We ate from the snacks that The Kid had grabbed, drank water. The rain became our very existence for the next several hours. The only light a faint red glow passing from one person to the next. Eventually the smoke grew thick enough that we could no longer see inside the Valiant either. We dozed, as only the truly stoned can, and were awoken by The Kid screaming in his sleep.

  It turned out he had been having a nightmare in which he, in full control of his own actions, decided to eat one of us. He crawled over Junior to get to the door, and flew outside. By now the rain had slackened off to a faint trickle, and we could hear him trying to vomit out every dream he had ever had. After a few minutes of this, he halted. Saying that he was going to take a quick look around, he disappeared into the gloom. He returned a short while later, unable to see anything in the darkness, and climbed back into the car.

  After this we simply sat in silence and waited for a new day to dawn.

  January 15th Year 1 A.Z.

  mid-morning

  The rain halted sometime after sunrise, but the gloom remained. Clouds blanketed the sky, the sun a faint glow behind darkness. The rain had washed away all the colour in the world, it seemed, with the grass grey and bleak as the road upon which our vehicles sat. The blood that had covered the bonnet of the Valiant, spray from the Dead-catcher, had also been cleansed by the deluge. The sheep in the back of the Ute were in bad shape, though. They had been exposed to the torrent all through our drive, and through the night with almost no food. Butcher had let them down and was coaxing them off the road to graze a while as we surveyed the situation.

  The Twin stood on the roof of the Valiant, bow at the ready, as the rest of us discussed the possible ramifications of the rain. It was perfectly clear that it had been tainted somehow, we suspected that everybody who had survived long enough to do so had burned as many Dead corpses as they could, as we had at the commune, might have contributed towards it. I thought back to my childhood, when the term greenhouse effect had been bandied about in the media. Perhaps this could be considered a Dead-house effect? Rather than Climate Change, Climate Carnage? Archer suggested that it could just be a local phenomenon. Apocalypse Girl thought hard about it and decided that it was far more likely a global effect, as the first reports we had seen at the new years party had come in from Europe, followed closely by America.

  The Twin whistled sharply and pointed ahead of us. On the horizon a lone figure stood, moving slowly closer with each step. As the figure drew nearer, others appeared behind it, these clearly Dead, by their shambling. They followed the figure relentlessly, though they were clearly being left behind a little further with each step the figure took.

  “What are we going to do?” Apocalypse Girl asked me. I called for suggestions, Butcher immediately suggesting that we just get in the cars and drive through them all. Junior and The Kid seconded this, but The Twin told them they're mad. If this person, whoever they are, have managed to survive this long alone, then we need them. Apocalypse Girl pointed out that we had room for one more person in the Valiant and more than enough food for a while, at least. The Twin pointed out that she could put an arrow through his eye … right … now! I asked her if she was sure he was male. She said not completely, he was wearing a long overcoat, and covered from head to foot.

  The figure had clearly seen us now, as he started running down the road at full speed, the shambling Dead still following. “Dead are in range now,” The Twin told us. I just told her not to waste arrows that we couldn't recover easily, and she lowered her bow. I pulled Fat Dealer's shotgun out from under the front seat of the Valiant, and moved forwards alone to greet the stranger.

  “That's close enough!” I shouted when the newcomer came within a couple of metres.

  “You have to help me!” Came a muffled voice. The stranger was wearing a motorcycle helmet and dressed in black leather. A gloved hand came up to flip the visor up. “Please.” It was a women's voice, urgent, yet calm. She looked over her shoulder, back at me, and said again, “You have to help...”

  I told her that we were armed. She told me that was why she was asking me for help, couldn't I see the horde of shambling corpses following her? I told her to get in the middle front seat of the Valiant, turned and ordered everybody else to get in the vehicles as well. The new girl had removed her helmet as she got into the Valiant, revealing close-cropped blonde hair. I asked her where she had come from, as Apocalypse Girl gunned the motor. She laughed and asked if that mattered any more, everybody there was dead, or worse now. Junior, The Kid and The Twin piled in the back as Archer and Butcher jumped into the Ute

  As the Valiant collided with the gathering mass of Dead, blood and limbs flew to be scattered by the four winds. The Dead-catcher scythed through their ranks cleaving flesh and bone with ease. At first, at least. After a while our progress through the Dead slowed to a crawl. Apocalypse Girl shouted that there were simply too many of them, there was no way we were going to break through. Then the Ute hit us. The added momentum pushed us over whatever Dead was lying in the road blocking our path and Apocalypse Girl planted her foot to the floor. The Valiant lurched forwards and the Dead flew. The Ute followed us as the weight of the Valiant crushed whatever had blocked our path. Soon the Dead faded out of view behind us and Apocalypse Girl slowed our pace a little so we could get to know the new girl.

  dusk?

  Apocalypse Girl and I between us interrogated Biker, the new girl, as to how she had survived so long alone.

  “I wasn't alone at first. You know how it is though, you lose people.” We had lost people as well, sure, but there was something about the way she had said it. These were clearly not people she had particularly cared for. “Come to think of it, that's probably why I survived so long. I lost everyone who was a threat to me.”

  The Twin asked her if she had any weapons. She replied that she did not, and had not used one since the Dead rose. She was apparently a part of a group in which the women were “protected” in exchange for certain “favours” that they had been expected to provide. This group was no longer “protecting” anybody, nor were there any more “favours” granted. The Dead had put a stop to both of those, and Biker had been fortunate indeed to have been near enough to a suit of riding leathers left lying around by one of her “protectors” after he had been kind enough to distract some Dead by offering them dinner. She had donned the helmet and started running and kept running until she could run no longer. Then she walked until the rain started. She had taken shelter in an abandoned Greyhound bus when she came across it, before the downpour became too intense.

  “Do you guys have anything I can eat” She asked. Appar
ently there had been no food in the bus, and she hadn't eaten since before the Dead attacked the camp she had been at. Junior handed her some wrapped up left over roasted sheep which she devoured so swiftly that, had it not been for the lingering odour, I might have imagined it. We found a relatively secluded spot down a side road to camp for the night, and The Kid went off scouting while the rest of us sat and ate, and smoked. Biker inhaled the smoke from the joint as if it were a long lost lover, she said that her last had been before the shit had hit it. Her “protectors” had not had a good opinion of altered states of consciousness one bit. It hampered one's awareness, according to their leader. He had been a religious zealot, preaching that the end had come, no shit on that score, and that those left alive were expected to “be fruitful and multiply” so that the planet could be repopulated by “the faithful” of his flock. It had been his idea to start “protecting” the women and children of the camp. The children cooked and cleaned up around the camp, the women served in other ways. They hadn't encountered any other Living since the beginning, and considered themselves to be the last of humanity. Biker was immensely pleased that this was not the case. After a while, The Kid returned with nothing to report.

  Apocalypse Girl began our tale, with the party in the hotel, the flight from the city with Valet, his subsequent infection and grisly demise, our escape from the chemist with accompanying background music everything else leading up to our arrival at the commune, after which Archer took over. We took turns telling our stories until The Kid told of his own infection and unexpected survival and side effects. Biker stared wide-eyed at him for the rest of the evening. I ended our tale with the bandits from the prison arriving, threatening us and then attacking. I thought it best not to tell her of the tainted food we had left behind, she was scared enough of The Kid as it was.

  Apocalypse Girl asked me privately what I thought of Biker's story. I replied that I thought she had been through a fucking rough time, if her story was true, and that she was clearly quick-witted. I think actually she will be a valuable companion to have. I haven't told Apocalypse Girl that exactly, she seems a little distrustful of Biker, and I don't really blame her at all. Anyway, if Biker works out well, then good. If not...well, if not...we can deal with that too.

  We decided that we would keep a watch, even though nobody could see more than two feet in front of them after the sun, what we could see of it, had fallen beneath the horizon. The Kid took first watch, with The Twin. Junior and Butcher were second, Archer and Apocalypse Girl were next, leaving me on last watch with the new girl, Biker.

  January 16th Year 1 A.Z.

  pre-dawn

  Apocalypse Girl woke me for my watch, as Archer woke Biker. We sat atop the Valiant, Biker facing behind us, I was watching the road ahead. Or at least I was watching the darkness that contained the road ahead.

  “So,” Biker quietly began from behind me, “I escaped from a group of violent, psychotic rapists to hook up with what? A group of wandering stoners with home-made bows and arrows?” She chuckled somewhat. “What the fuck, though, you've survived longer than they did!”

  “Was it really that bad there?” I asked her.

  “Being passed around from one fuckwit to the next just because of what's between my legs? Being told that my only useful skills were in the kitchen and the bedroom?” She was getting angry. “No, I am fucking glad to be out of that shit pit. Us women were always kept together, not all of us at once, you understand, just those of us that weren't being used at the time. The Abbott, that's what they called him, he was fucking crazy. 'Women are only good for cooking and breeding' was always his motto, even before everything went all fucked up. I knew him back then, you see. Not well, I just knew a couple of people from his church. That was where we went, you see. That's where it was safe. Until we ran out of food, and one little old lady died late one night. No idea how, probably just old age, but fuck...after she died, she got back up and started ripping people apart. 90 years old and still had her own teeth, that's something to be proud of, sure, but for fuck's sake!” She took a deep breath to steady herself, then continued in a calmer, quieter tone. “Then a whole lot of us ran for the front door, The Abbott included. There were Dead out there, too, of course, but after a few days they wandered off, doing their own thing, whatever that might be. Anyway the point is, there weren't many nearby, so we just took off. That night The Abbott decided on the different roles people would play in his new world. We moved out of the town, and into the woods, but another mob of Dead found us. Anyway, a whole heap of women died that night. The next day The Abbott made up the 'protection' bullshit. At first it wasn't too bad, but the way this world is now...it turns people into fucking animals, it really does.”

  “Well, look, I can't speak for The Abbott, but in this group everybody pitches in with everything. We have extra bows, we can teach you how to shoot, so you can protect yourself, as well as the rest of us. That's the only thing we expect, really. Pull your own weight, help the group when it is necessary and don't fuck us over.” I told her. She agreed that those rules seemed more than fair.

  The sun was rising. At least I assume that's what was going on behind the clouds, as to the east the horizon began to brighten, and light up the sky, like a torch through cotton wool. Except the cotton wool was dark grey and bubbling unhealthily. Here and there above the roiling clouds lightning flashed, lighting up patches of darker grey.

  Apocalypse Girl exited the Valiant and stretched her arms and back. The Twin followed shortly after. Everybody gathered around as Butcher prepared our breakfast. It was nearly time to slaughter our second sheep. Biker devoured the meat with relish. It was clear that before she met us it had been awhile since her last decent meal.

  As we ate we discussed our options. Biker pointed out around a mouthful of food that everything nearby had been stripped of anything of value, so there was no point hanging around. Archer found a roadmap, located our approximate position, and divulged that if we followed the side road we were now on that we should come to a small town in a few hours, depending on the state of the road, and the weather. We figured that a small town might not have had quite the same numbers of Dead wandering around, so therefore it was worth at the very least checking it out. We finished our meals, then hopped into our vehicles and continued down the road. The curious thing was, the further down the road we travelled, the darker the day got.

  noon (I think)

  Both cars clocks are saying it's twelve o'clock, but fuck me if it doesn't look more like midnight rather than midday. What was really fucking bizarre was the fact that we could see as though it was fully lit. We found the town easily enough, and sure enough there were no Dead there at all. Nothing Living either. In fact there were barely any buildings standing at all. We found an old run-down church with no doors, and a two storey house in relatively good shape. The rest of the town was nothing but ruins, a part of a wall here, a toilet free-standing over there out in the open. The building across the street from the two storey house had clearly been burned down.

  We decided to check out first the church, then the house. The church was clear, nothing there at all. No pews, no bible, certainly no priest. On the wall behind where the altar wasn't any longer, the word 'repent' smeared in what looked like fresh blood, but when Butcher examined it up close, he said it was not just dry, but at least a few years old.

  The house was in better repair, yet the interior had been completely gutted. Holes separated rooms from one another, though the door frame, door included, still stood. It looked as though titans had wrestled through the entire ground floor, and when we discovered the stairs, only the smallest among us, Apocalypse Girl, dared investigate further. She was up for less than a minute, saying that nothing was there.

  On a hunch I went outside. I investigated the back yard, and found what looked to be a burial cairn. On a large flat stone at the top, where the head should be, someone had carved a name. Tommy. Beneath this lay, still in its scabbard, a beautiful katana.
I picked up the sword and drew it smoothly. The blade shone in the darkness. The initials S.P. were embossed on the hilt. I took a couple of practice swings, then sheathed the sword.

  I turned to leave, then thought better of it. Turning back to Tommy's cairn, I bowed reverently, thanking Tommy for this gift. Honestly, normally I would never bother with this sort of thing, but my views on life, death, Death, and everything that went along with it had changed rather dramatically over the last couple of weeks.

  evening

  We holed up in the house overnight, as at least it could be sealed against any Dead visitors. Everybody wanted to have a look at the sword that I found, Apocalypse Girl even going so far as to suggest that Tommy had left it there for me for a reason. Perhaps that was so, perhaps it wasn't, either way we now had a very powerful tool to use against the Dead.