The Mike Beem Chronicles: 6 Tales of Survival, Hope, and The Zombie Apocalypse

by Anthony Renfro

  “You’ve been as far as the mall? I wasn’t brave enough to go that far alone. Thank God for hardware stores and grocery stores nearby. I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t have them,” Jim replied, flipping through his folder.

  “Me either. I consider myself a pretty tough survivor, but even I haven’t been brave enough to go that far. And I assume, from the look of this folder, that you’ve been there more than once.” Fred chimed in again.

  “Four times actually.”

  “Wow. My hat is off to you,” Fred replied.

  “It wasn’t as hard as you might think. Zombies are pretty stupid unless you rile them up. Most of the time, if you just have patience, take the right shots, and keep your wits about you, zombies aren’t all that hard to maneuver around.”

  “How did you find out what the kids in the neighborhood wanted?” Jim asked, looking up at Mike.

  “I went door to door. That’s how I found out about you two guys.”

  “That’s what you were doing the day we met?” Fred asked.

  “Out of all the homes I went to, you two were the only single guys left in the neighborhood. Everyone else either had one, two, or three kids, and every one of those families was struggling. It broke my heart talking to each father. They wanted to help so badly, but I refused. I wasn’t about to have their blood on my hands or a grieving widow to worry about.”

  “So here we sit. Chosen because we’re single,” Jim replied, picking up a box filled with paper of all shapes, sizes, and colors that was sitting on the coffee table. He grabbed a red piece of paper sitting on top of the pile. He unfolded it, and read to himself what was written on it in bright blue crayon.

  Dear Mike,

  Zombies stink. Can you bring me something Star Wars? Thanks.

  “That box contains what the kid’s want?” Fred asked, pointing to the box Jim was holding.

  “Yeah. I went door to door again and told the parents to leave a note on their door for a toy each of their kids would want. Make it small, easy to carry. I told them I would be back to collect the notes in a week or so, give them time to think. So on each piece of paper is something that will give each kid in this neighborhood a little hope. I plan to deliver on that promise.”

  Fred stood up from the couch and stretched. He took out his pistol and made sure it was loaded. It was time to get home and do a little drinking. “Tomorrow morning, right?” He asked, looking at Mike.

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, see you then.” He collected his things, and made his way to the door.

  Mike followed him, and opened the door, letting cold air into the house. “Be careful, we need you, and thanks for doing this. I can’t say that enough.”

  Fred looked out at the road and the neighborhood. A few zombies shambled back and forth. “There doesn’t seem to be as many these days. Does it?”

  “Maybe that is something in our favor.”

  “Hey, wait up Fred. Strength in numbers, remember.” Jim put the note back in the box, and put the box back on the table. He collected his things, and put on his coat. He walked over to the door, as Fred made his exit.

  “See you tomorrow, Mike,” Jim replied, as he shook Mike’s hand, and followed after Fred.

  “Bright and early,” Mike replied.

  Jim caught up to Fred, as Mike closed and locked the door. He heard several gun shots echoing across the neighborhood as Fred and Jim hurried home. He went out onto the back porch, and filled up the generator then went back inside.

  He turned off the tree to save power, stoked the fire, and then pulled out a small portable DVD player. He turned on one of his favorite TV shows – Wings – and fell asleep watching it. His dreams this time were peaceful and full of hope.

  December the 24th

  The three men sat huddled in the cold, waiting and watching the mall parking lot, back packs on their back, guns ready to kill.

  It looked like a hopeless nightmare.

  There were a lot of zombies shuffling around the open ground, some going into the mall, some coming out. Many of them coming out of the mall were carrying shopping bags as if they had spent this day doing last minute Christmas shopping.

  “Dawn of the Dead much,” Fred replied.

  “Original or remake?” Mike asked.

  “Original, of course.”

  “I don’t think I can do this.” Jim gripped his shotgun a little tighter to his chest. Fear ran across him like a freight train. Panic set in. He had avoided situations like this, and now he was about to throw all of that away for a few kids he didn’t even know. “This was a noble idea, Mike, sounded better before I got here; but I think I better get on back home.”

  Mike grabbed Jim by the shirt, as he started to stand up. Jim landed on his butt on the cold snowy ground a second later. “This is no time to be backing out! We need you here. We need you now.”

  “Why do you need me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You and Fred can handle it. I’ve seen you shoot. I would just get in your way. I can promise you that.”

  Mike looked Jim in the eye, while Fred waited anxiously to go.

  “Are you really going to go back to our neighborhood and face those kids? Can you live with yourself if you do that? I know I couldn’t,” Mike replied, turning away from Jim feeling a bit disgusted at his sudden cowardice. “Okay, Fred, are you ready to go?”

  Fred gripped his gun tight, tried not to think of his girlfriend, tried to keep his mind on the task at hand. “Just give me the word,” he replied, muscles twitching with adrenaline.

  “Just a second longer,” Mike replied, turning from Fred to face Jim. “Are you still leaving?”

  Jim looked out at the parking lot, back to Mike and Fred. He thought of the note he had read back at Mike’s place. That note gave him the courage he needed. “I guess it’s like dancing with an electric chair. You’re never ready, but sometimes you have no choice,” Jim replied, gripping his gun a bit tighter, gearing himself up to go just like Fred.

  Mike patted Jim on the shoulder. “Glad you’re back on board. Three is always better than two.”

  “So, are we going or are we going to sit here and have a tea party? My toes are cold, my knees are numb, and I’m so hopped up on adrenaline I think I might burst out of my clothes,” Fred replied, eyes big and alive like a junky on a high.

  “Okay, we’re going now, follow my lead. And remember, we want these zombies to pack in tight around us so we can get as many as we possibly can at one time. No matter how tight they swarm, no one shoots until I say so. Got that?”

  Mike looked at Jim.

  He nodded.

  Mike looked at Fred.

  He gave Mike the thumbs up without looking at him, eyes still focused on the parking lot and the shuffling zombies.

  “Let’s do it then. Good luck guys and be safe,” Mike replied, and stepped out of his hiding spot, saying a silent prayer to himself as he did it.

  Fred and Jim followed closely behind.

  The zombies shuffled about. They were just doing their zombie thing, unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

  Mike, Fred, and Jim inched closer to the mall, eyes alive, and guns ready to fire.

  The zombies noticed them and began to shuffle in their direction.

  The men held their pace – slow and steady, as the zombies started to horde together.

  A soft snow was falling.

  The ground was turning white.

  The zombies bunched in tighter, started to surround the men on all sides.

  Fred looked at Mike, waiting for the go ahead.

  Mike held up his hand, as the zombies moved closer, packed in tighter.

  Jim bit his lip, scared beyond belief, but trying hard to hang in there.

  The zombies were now so full and thick around the men that they were almost hard to see through.

  Mike glanced at his two friends, and then screamed: “Shoot! Light up and let ‘em fall!”

  Fred smil
ed, and then started shooting. Mike followed a second later. Jim kind of just stood there a moment before getting in on the action. Their shots echoed out into the day like thunder and blasted out across the Raleigh city streets, as zombie heads started to explode, and blood started to splatter.

  When Mike saw an opening in the horde, he screamed: “Go!”

  All three of the men made their way as fast as they could through the horde of zombies, dodging grabbing hands and deadly bites. Across the parking lot towards the broken entrance doors of the mall they ran, still shooting, still firing, still exploding zombie heads, and splattering blood.

  The men rushed into the mall, and paused instantly, a synchronized stop. Mike had left a kerosene lamp sitting on one of the tables nearest the door. He grabbed it, and turned it on, flooding the food court with light.

  “Holy shit, mike. You didn’t say it was this bad,” Fred replied, trying not to draw attention to them.

  “It wasn’t the last time I was here,” Mike replied, keeping his voice low.

  Jim gulped hard, and thought about making a run for it, back to his home, back to his comfort zone. He looked behind him. Zombies were starting to come in through the broken doors, and then he looked forward again. The food court was stuffed with zombies, shambling about, and they were now coming in their direction.

  “This was a noble idea, Mike, but maybe – ”

  “Maybe shit. We all have to die sometime,” Jim replied, cutting Fred off in mid-sentence. He raised his shotgun, and took off running towards the crowd of zombies coming in their direction. He blasted five of them in the face, splattering blood and brains, and then continued shooting his way into the mall.

  Mike and Fred didn’t hesitate, as they took off behind him, blasting their way through just like Jim.

  “Upstairs!” Mike screamed.

  Jim turned and ran towards the dead escalator with Mike and Fred close behind. He tossed away his shot gun, and as he climbed he started to knife the zombies filling up the metal stairs.

  Mike and Fred reached the escalator, as Jim reached the second level. He looked down at Mike and Fred, as they kept firing off rounds, splattering the walls and floor with fresh zombie blood.

  Mike and Fred climbed quick, jumping and leaping over the dead zombies clogging up the escalator, as they continued to move forward.

  Mike pulled out a key from his pocket when he reached the second level. He raced over to the toy store doors, as Fred and Jim took aim, back to back. Zombies came from all directions as the men blew out brains and scattered pieces of flesh.

  Mike unlocked the glass door, and slid it open.

  “Come on! It’s open!” Mike screamed, as he popped a few zombies in the head that were too close for comfort.

  The men hurried inside.

  Mike slid the glass door closed, and locked it tight.

  The zombies huddled up against the glass, but couldn’t get in.

  The men, now tired, caught their breath and tried to relax.

  “Did anyone get bit?” Mike checked himself with the light and then the other men. Everyone was somehow okay.

  That was insane,” Jim replied.

  “You did real good out there. Thanks for helping us get here,” Mike replied, putting the kerosene lamp down so he could see what he was doing.

  “I just kept the kids in mind. That got me through it,” Jim replied, dropping his back pack on the floor. He took a seat in a nearby chair, and then he asked himself – Why was there a camping chair just sitting in the middle of a mall toy store? He looked around at his surroundings. “Been busy, Mike?”

  Mike turned on several small kerosene lamps and lit up the kerosene heater – the mall had been without power or heat for some time now, so it felt like the inside of a freezer in their small confined space. The kerosene heater was sitting in the middle of a circle of camp chairs, so each guy could sit around it and warm themselves. Nearest to the chairs were sleeping bags, and a cooler that was stocked with nonperishable food and water.

  “When did you do all this?” Fred asked, dropping his back pack, and taking a seat.

  “I had the bags at home because we use to go camping all the time, the chairs as well. The only real problem I had was the heater and the lamps. I was able to find them close by in the back of a grocery store.”

  “I guess nobody would think to look for those items there,” Fred replied, as he watched the zombies press up against the glass. “Do you think we’re safe in here?””

  “For as long as we need to be here, I think so,” Mike replied.

  “It still seems amazing to me that it has all come to this,” Jim replied, watching the zombies just like Fred.

  “Like I said before, it’s a lot worse now than it was when I first started coming out here,” Mike replied, as he got up and walked over to the cooler. He slid it in front of the guys, and popped it open. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep us going until we leave.”

  The men ate and drank for a moment, as they watched the zombies press against the glass and shuffle about. One of them shuffled by with the Salvation Army stand draped over his neck. It looked like he had walked right through it and then continued on without realizing the obstruction. He jingled and jangled, spilled change, as he moved about in his zombie-filled world.

  The men smiled.

  It broke the tension and fear of the day.

  “I guess they started early this year,” Mike replied. “Usually I don’t see them ringing bells and asking for change until after Thanksgiving.”

  “I saw the Salvation Army out in front of a few Department stores before all this started. I thought it was kind of early for them, but I guess with how bad the jobs were before the zombies more people just needed their help,” Jim replied, as he opened up some hard beef encased in plastic. “Looking back now, tough economic times have nothing on a Zombie Apocalypse. Seems kind of silly we were even concerned about it with the way the world has turned out.”

  “It really does, but a lot of things seem that way now,” Mike replied.

  The men took a momentary pause, and ate in silence. Their bodies warming by the heater, their nerves returning to normal.

  “What about guns and ammunition?” Fred asked. “I’m about empty.”

  Mike, without saying a word, got up, and made his way to the back of the store.

  A few moments later, Jim and Fred heard wheels rolling across the tile, and looked towards that direction. Mike appeared in the light pushing a large cabinet on wheels. It was red all over except for the lid which was black, and the handles that were silver. Mike propped open the lid, as Jim and Fred came over to investigate.

  What they saw amazed them.

  “Gotcha covered,” Mike replied, sitting down in a chair.

  “How in the world did you amass such a stock pile?” Jim asked, as he reached in and pulled out a brand new double barrel shotgun. He checked the chamber. It was loaded.

  “You out did yourself,” Fred replied, as he picked up a machine gun with a loaded clip.

  “I’m not sure we can carry all of them, but there is plenty of ammunition and plenty of weapons to choose from,” Mike replied. “I scavenged most of them from my trips back and forth to the mall. You would be surprised what people leave behind when they get killed by a zombie.”

  Fred picked up a set of throwing stars, and a couple of knives. “Crazy haul Mike.”

  “I honestly just found, grabbed, and tossed them into the cabinet when I got up here. I’m not even sure what is in there anymore.”

  “How did you get the cabinet upstairs?” Jim asked taking a seat and warming himself by the kerosene heater. He lay the shotgun over his lap, and watched the zombies pressing up against the glass. Did he hear it crack or was it just his imagination? He figured it was just the nerves talking, and focused in on his conversation with Mike, but his eyes kept watching and his ears kept listening. If the glass did show the slightest signs of breaking, he would know it in an instant.


  “The elevators were still working at the time. I rolled it into one of them, and to the second level I went.”

  “A lucky break,” Fred replied, as he took a seat, and put his head back.

  “Sometimes a little bit of luck is all we need, especially in this world,” Mike replied, eyeballing the zombies pressed against the glass. “How about we rest a bit? Then collect the kid’s toys, pack up for the morning, and then we’ll take turns on guard duty.”

  “Sure,” Jim replied, as Fred let out a long snore. They both looked over at him. “I’ll watch, you rest, Mike.”

  “You sure?”

  “Sure.”

  “Wake me in an hour or so,” Mike replied, closing his eyes.

  “Will do,” Jim replied, and then pumped the shotgun. He eyeballed the zombies and listened for cracking glass.

  Time passed, and once they were up and rested, they rounded up the kid’s toys, and packed everything up for the morning.

  Once finished, they drank and ate, relaxed, and just tried to get their mind focused for Christmas morning.

  Zombies shuffled outside, and one jingled and jangled, still spilling change while he shuffled about.

  December the 25th

  Around dawn, Mike’s watch alarm went off. He had been napping on guard duty while the others slept. He stretched, got the men stirring with an easy breakfast, and then it was time, time to get back to their neighborhood and deliver the presents.

  They suited up in their cold-weather gear, loaded up with as many weapons as they could carry, and then made their way to the back of the store.

  “Okay guys,” Mike replied, a hand on the door handle that use to let employees and delivery guys enter and leave this store. “I haven’t been out back before, just the front. I don’t know what is lurking; so, when I open this door, be ready to shoot first and ask questions later.”