Life After The Undead (Book 1)

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Life After The Undead (Book 1) Page 3

by Pembroke Sinclair


  Dad grimaced. “No one is going to mess with the four wheelers. Without tools, it’s going to be pretty hard for them to take those babies apart. Even if they pop the tires, we’ll still be able to get back to the base. If there are other people out there, they deserve to be saved.”

  I stared at Mom. I didn’t think a fire was the best thing either, but Dad knew best. Mom’s jaw muscles tighten.

  “It seems really reckless,” Mom snapped. “We don’t know what, or who, we’re dealing with and you set a beacon that gives away our position.”

  “We’re going to be fine,” said Dad, but something in his eyes made me wonder if he believed it himself. “Now c’mon, cook up some of that canned stuff for dinner.”

  Mom shook her head before picking out some food. I took one last look at the lights on the complex. With a sigh, I turned and joined Dad on the floor in front of the fire. He placed his arm around my shoulders, and I laid my head on his chest.

  “Thanks for letting us come here, Dad. I had a bad feeling about the base.”

  Dad shrugged. “I want my family to feel safe.”

  “Did you see how many people were at the base?” Mom set a pan of chili on the screen above the fire. “There had to be three, four hundred people.”

  “Yeah, but if you consider that over a hundred thousand live within an hour of the base, that percentage isn’t very high.”

  Mom sat next to Dad.

  “Do you think there are more survivors out there?” I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared at Dad.

  “I don’t know. I hope so,” he answered.

  “Do you think any of them will come here?”

  Dad sighed. “I don’t know.”

  The chili sputtered, and tiny dots of red jumped out of the pot. Mom stood and slowly stirred the food. She looked at me and Dad. “What are we going to do?”

  “Tomorrow I’m going to the base and find out what they know. You two will wait here until I return. After that, I don’t know. We’ll have to play it by ear.”

  “Why do we have to wait here?” Mom complained. “Wouldn’t it be safer if we stuck together?”

  “Yeah, Dad, it’s not a good idea for us to split up. That’s when bad things happen.”

  “It’ll be faster if I go by myself. No offense. Plus, what if Krista is right? What if they take the four wheeler? If that happens, I’ll need you to pick me up. We at least have to try. We have to see if there are answers out there.”

  Mom and I nodded. I still didn’t think it was a good idea, but arguing wasn’t going to get us anywhere. Mom took the chili off the fire. We ate in silence.

  Darkness enclosed the observation tower, and I snuggled into my sleeping bag. The fire crackled in the hearth, but I didn’t feel at peace. My stomach fluttered with unease, and I couldn’t fall asleep. I wanted to tell Dad not to go, but I knew he had to. We needed to know what was going on and if there was a way to combat the threat. I stared at my parents as they held each other in front of the fire. Any other time it would have been romantic, and I would have gagged. Sadness drifted over me as I looked at them. I rolled over and settled into a restless sleep.

  ***

  I awoke the next morning to the salty, meaty aroma of canned hash. For a brief second, I felt the joy I always felt when I camped. Then I remembered why we were there. I climbed out of my sleeping bag and approached the fire. The warmth radiated through my body, and Mom smiled wanly at me.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t really sleep at all.”

  The door to the bathroom opened, and Dad stepped into the living space. He had his coat on and his pistol in its holster at his side. He was ready to head out. He glanced at his watch.

  “It’s six right now. Hopefully, I’ll be back by noon. If I’m not, wait until tomorrow, then head to the base.”

  My throat tightened. “Why tomorrow? Why not tonight?”

  “I’ll need some time to talk to people, get some answers, figure out the lay of the base. If I get the answers quickly, I’ll be back by noon. If not…”

  “You’ll be back,” I said.

  Dad smiled. “Of course I will.” He wrapped his arms around Mom and me and held us for a long time. The only thing that made him let go was the stench of burnt meat that filled the room.

  Mom pulled the pan from the fire and approached Dad. They kissed, then Dad headed down the rope. Mom and I stood on the observation deck until he was out of sight and we could no longer hear the four wheeler. We came back inside and filled our plates with burnt hash and scrambled eggs.

  I scowled at the food. “He could’ve at least eaten before he left.”

  “You know your father. When he has his mind set on something, nothing distracts him. Not even food.”

  I set my plate down and stared out the window. I wasn’t hungry. Mom nibbled on her eggs before setting her plate next to mine. Why had we thought we could eat? I supposed we were trying to make things normal. Even though we both knew there was nothing normal left.

  Noon came and went. Mom and I stood at the window, waiting for a sign of Dad. The horizon darkened and a chill filled the room before I turned away to start a fire.

  “I’m sure he’s okay, Mom.” My voice was small. “He’s gathering information. Helping with the wounded.”

  Mom stared out the window. She hadn’t moved or even grunted to recognize that I’d spoken to her. I wished she’d say something. Confirm my hypothesis in some way. After all, she knew Dad better than I did. She had to have some idea of what he was doing.

  I grabbed a can of Spaghetti Os and dumped them into a pot. We needed to eat, even though I still wasn’t hungry. Again, it was that normalcy thing—the idea if one small thing was right, maybe everything else would follow. As I placed the meal above the fire, a series of small pops followed by a loud bang resounded in the distance. I made it to the window in time to see the horizon engulfed in an orange hue.

  “I’m sure Dad wasn’t in there.” I tried to convince myself of it more than anything.

  Mom grabbed me and held tight.

  “I’m sure he’ll be back any minute,” I said.

  I waited for my mom to agree with me, I needed her to, but she didn’t say a word.

  We stared out the window, watching the orange light flicker until the Spaghetti Os boiled. It gave me an excuse to pull away from Mom. It was weird, but as she held me, it felt as if something was missing. There was no comfort in her arms. I stared at her from across the room. She continued to look out the window. What she was thinking?

  The fire died a while later. Mom and I had moved to the floor in front of the door and wrapped in a blanket. I didn’t want to be alone, and I knew she needed comfort. Neither one of us slept. We kept waiting for Dad to walk through the door. He never did.

  CHAPTER 3

  Mom and I spent the morning holding one another in silence. Clouds from the fire darkened the sky, and gray ash fluttered on the wind.

  Midday, Mom rose. “Get packed. We’re not staying here anymore.”

  “Where are we going to go?”

  Mom stuffed a sleeping bag into its sack and threw cans into a box. “He told us to get him the next day.”

  “Mom—”

  “He might not be dead,” she snapped. “He might still be at the compound.”

  I didn’t argue. I didn’t want to imagine the unthinkable had happened. Like Mom, I was optimistic we’d find Dad alive. We didn’t know the extent of damage or exactly what had happened at the complex, so anything was possible. I helped Mom finish packing, then we headed onto the deck. She peeked over the rail and lowered the rope before placing our belongings into the basket. She was about to lower it when a man burst through the trees. His hair stuck out, and his face and clothes were covered in soot. He ran to the rope and started to climb toward us. He lost his grip and slipped. He tried again and had more luck.

  My heart leapt into my throat when I met the man’s gaze. His eyes were red
and flared with intensity. I couldn’t tell if he was a zombie or human. He moved quickly, so it was safe to assume he wasn’t the undead, but the intensity in his eyes didn’t make me believe he was there to protect us. Maybe he was infected. We didn’t know what the victims looked like before they turned into zombies.

  “Hey!” Mom yelled down at the man. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  The man didn’t answer but kept climbing frantically toward us.

  Mom aimed the shotgun over the rail. “Hey! I asked you a question!”

  The man glanced up and noticed the gun but didn’t slow his climbing.

  “I’m giving you one more chance! If you don’t answer me by the count of three, I’m going to blow you away.” She cocked the gun. “One…two…three.”

  I gritted my teeth and waited for the explosion of the gun, but it never came. I turned. Mom held the gun over the railing, her finger flexed on the trigger. I turned back to the man. He was a few feet from the top of the rope.

  “This is your last chance,” Mom yelled.

  The man glanced up at us. His lip curled into a snarl.

  There was a deafening crack, and the man’s head split in a spray of blood and bone. His body lingered on the rope for a few seconds before flopping onto the ground. My throat tightened. I couldn’t catch my breath, so I sat on the deck.

  Mom knelt next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “We have to get to the base.” She pulled me up and toward the rope.

  I grabbed it and slowly lowered myself down while Mom kept watch. Bile rose in the back of my throat as I slid through the blood and brain matter that stuck to the fibers. When I made it to the bottom, I pulled out my own weapon and kept an eye on the forest, listening for anything out of place. Mom joined me on the ground. We jumped onto the four wheeler. I sat uneasily on the back. What had possessed her to kill that man? Yeah, it was possible he was going to kill us, or worse, but I never knew she had it in her. Something was wrong with her, and I desperately wanted to know what it was.

  It took us an hour to reach the base. We stopped on top of the same hill we had been on a few days earlier and stared down at the complex. The buildings that were still standing were charred black, and wisps of dark smoke curled into the sky. The chain-link fence that surrounded the place had been toppled in several areas and laid on the ground. The blackened corpses of people lay strewn about the yard, and the smell of burnt flesh permeated the air. Any hope I had of finding Dad disappeared when I saw the destruction. There was no way he’d survived.

  Mom gunned the ATV and headed into the complex. Just inside the gate, she stopped and took off her helmet. She swung her leg over the ATV, placing the helmet on the handlebars. She glanced at the bodies closest to her before calling loudly.

  “Charlie!” she yelled. She stepped deeper into the complex and examined a few more bodies. “Charlie!” Desperation entered her voice and she spun around, calling his name.

  I remained at the four wheeler and removed my helmet. I stood on the seat, scanning the area, the rifle ready to fire. My stomach was in knots, and my palms were sweating. Mom had ventured even farther into the complex, still calling Dad’s name.

  I wanted to call her back, make her leave, but a voice at the back of my brain told me it was pointless. She had to see for herself, figure it out on her own, that Dad wasn’t coming back. Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I turned to the building on my right. I stared into the blackness and strained my ears. Nothing, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was there, that something watched me. I was about to turn away when a pinpoint of light caught my attention. My breath caught. I brought the rifle up to my shoulder and lined up the sights. The light moved, first to the right, then straight for me. A soft hissing sound that turned into a low moan echoed from the blackness. My breathing came in rasps and all the muscles in my body stiffened.

  When the zombie stepped into the sun, I almost fell off the four wheeler. I squeezed the trigger on the rifle, but the shot sailed into the air. I jumped down and steadied myself on the ground, raising my weapon. The bullet caught the zombie in the midsection, but it didn’t fall. I climbed onto the four wheeler and turned it on. I scanned the area for Mom and found her a hundred yards to my left. How did she get so far so fast? She gazed into a burned-out building, still calling Dad’s name. I was about to accelerate toward her when she staggered away. She tried to raise her rifle, but she didn’t make it in time. She fell to the ground as three half-charred zombies limped out of the doorway.

  “Mom!” I pushed the throttle.

  Mom scuttled away from the undead and then got to her feet. She turned to meet me, but five more zombies stepped out from another building and encircled her, slowly closing the ranks. She fired a few shots at the menace, and a couple went down, but now close to twenty were closing on her position. One of them grabbed her hair from behind, and she was lucky enough to duck out of the way before getting bitten, but the creature was too close to shoot. She swung the butt of the gun around and knocked off the man’s lower jaw. Blood and teeth sprayed into her face, temporarily blinding her and allowing the undead to get closer. Mom blinked and wiped her eyes. Several others were now within an arm’s length. She couldn’t get away. The creature closest to her sunk its top teeth into her forearm. She yelped and pushed him away.

  “Go!” she yelled. “Get out of here!”

  “Mom! I won’t leave you.” I was close, very close, and several zombies knew it. They turned and headed toward me.

  A zombie grabbed the back of Mom’s hair and chomped down on her shoulder. She screamed in pain and tried to wiggle out of the creature’s grasp. Another grabbed her leg and took a bite out of her thigh. I stopped the four wheeler and raised my gun. I fired several shots, but they all missed their targets. A creature with missing legs that pulled itself along the ground grabbed my shoe. I screamed and aimed the gun. The thing’s head exploded, covering my face in brain matter. I glanced up and noticed another one directly in front of me, its arms extended and mouth snapping open and shut. I aimed and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked empty. I threw the rifle onto the ground and glanced back at Mom. Five zombies had a hold of her and pulled her down. She struggled and fought against them, but it was a losing battle.

  “Go!” Mom yelled.

  I hesitated. Part of my brain screamed to get away, telling me there was nothing I could do, but the other part said there was still a chance I could save her. When I felt the cold fingers of a zombie on my forearm, the survival part of my brain took over and I drove out of the compound as fast as I could.

  I had every intention of heading back to the lookout tower, but tears clouded my eyes and I couldn’t see through the trees. I wiped at my face and tried to keep the four wheeler on level ground. Once I felt I’d put enough distance between me and the zombies, I pulled over to get my bearings. I turned off the four wheeler and glanced at the surroundings. Pine trees encircled me in all directions, and each one looked exactly the same. I glanced in the direction I came from. It didn’t help. I had no idea where I was. You idiot! I thought. Why didn’t you pay more attention to where you were going? I turned to look where I was heading. And why didn’t you ever learn how to shoot? I burst into tears.

  A moan resounded somewhere in the forest, and I drew in a sharp breath. I didn’t even glance around before starting the four wheeler and heading deeper into the woods. I ran the vehicle for another thirty minutes. I stopped and tried to figure out where I was, this time on top a hill. I took in my surroundings and sighed. The tower was a long way off to my left. The highway was over two hills to my right. I wondered if it was worth going back to the tower. What if someone else tried to climb the rope like that guy had? Would I be able to shoot him? What if they came in the middle of the night while I slept? I shuddered at the thought. And then I realized I didn’t have the gun on me. I threw it on the ground at the complex and never picked it back up. My shoulders slouched and hopelessness threatened to overt
ake me.

  I was pretty sure the man my mom had killed was human. I hadn’t seen a zombie that could move like that. Maybe that meant there were other survivors from the complex. Maybe Dad was one of them. I glanced from the lookout tower to the highway. There had to be survivors. I had to find them. Human life always found a way to survive the direst of situations. It was the only glimmer of hope I had. If they lived, they’d probably follow the road. The terrain in the trees was almost too rough and uneven for the four wheeler, so it’d be difficult for any other vehicle. Assuming the survivors were in a vehicle. If they were on foot, the forest was the best place because they could outrun the zombies. I didn’t know where, or if, there were survivors, but I didn’t want to be without my supplies. I decided to take a chance. I refueled the four wheeler and headed for the highway. After I reached the pavement, I stared for a few minutes in each direction. There was no way for me to tell which way they’d gone, so I’d have to take another chance. If I went to my right, it’d lead me to the road that led to the military base, and there was a good-sized city beyond. To my left was a long stretch of road that eventually led to a small town. I turned the handlebars to the left. If the complex was just attacked, more than likely the city was going to be overrun with zombies too. If the survivors were thinking as I was, they’d want to get as far away as possible from concentrated hordes of the undead. I revved the engine and headed toward the horizon.

  ***

  I caught up to a group of survivors before sunset. I actually burst into laughter when I saw them. I couldn’t believe my good fortune. The few who’d survived, about twenty, had piled onto a troop transport truck and headed east. They huddled under a bridge and used tarps and blankets to make a tent with men I assumed were soldiers standing lookout on either side. They wore camo and carried automatic weapons. If they weren’t soldiers, they were doing a great job of acting as if they were. They were a motley group, covered in ashes and blood with puffy red eyes. A few of them jumped when I came toward them and cowered in a group. Those with guns surrounded them and pointed their weapons at me. I turned off the ATV and then held up my hands.

 

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