She opened up her backpack, trying to keep the blanket on her the best she could. It was cold inside the car, and her breath rushed out of her in a frozen white cloud. She took out a stick of deodorant, a clean towel, a bottle of water, bag of chips, tooth brush, tooth paste, liquid soap, mirror, clean underwear, and a clean shirt. She ate the bag of chips while she scanned the dark parking garage. There was no sign of anything or anyone lurking. That was good. That was hopeful.
She finished the chips, and washed out the artificial cheese taste with some of the water. She took what was left of the water and cleaned herself up. It wasn’t a hot shower or a thorough cleaning, but it was enough to make herself feel somewhat fresh.
She put on her coat and tied up her boots, sat there a moment, and collected herself. She prayed, and hoped Joe would arrive safely by midnight, which was now just a few hours away. Feeling ready, she slipped out of the car, slid her backpack onto her back, and gripped the baseball bat tight in her right hand.
She walked over to the edge of the building, and scanned the ground below with her flashlight. It wasn’t overrun with zombies as she had feared it would be. That was hopeful, but there was enough of them to cause a problem if she wasn’t careful.
She looked back towards the way she had entered this structure, the long circular ramp that wound its way up to each level of this place, it was clear and free of –
A zombie appeared in her light, then another, and another behind it. They were coming, and it looked like the once-empty deck was going to be full of walking corpses very soon.
She knew that she would have to use the stairwell to escape, which was the one place she hadn’t wanted to use, because the lights were off and inside that place it would be as black as night. She would be blind, alone, and terrified when confined within its concrete walls. Nevertheless, that was her only safe exit option, as the zombies continued to file into this parking structure like they were looking for their car.
She walked over to the stairwell door, and stood there a moment in front of its hard grey metal surface. She held her bat high, drew in a breath, exhaled, and then opened the door. Pitch black greeted her. The flashlight cut the dark the best it could, but that little yellow beam could only go do so much in darkness as thick as this.
Becky walked out onto the platform and over to the shiny metal rail. She leaned over it, and shined the light down. The beam didn’t reveal too much, but it revealed enough to let her know this small space appeared to be silent and empty. That was good enough for her.
“Okay, girl. Feet better start a moving,” she replied, as she closed the door and entombed herself.
She crossed the small platform, and then started to descend. The concrete stairs made a slapping sound when her boots dropped onto each one of them, as she moved quickly to the second floor landing.
She stopped there a moment, deep breaths, and again she leaned over the rail for a quick scan. There was nothing coming up at her from below, and it eased her mind a bit when she realized she could see the bottom floor much better from this vantage point.
A thump from above.
She jumped, turned the light in that direction. The door didn’t fall down even though it was a hard thump, but she knew she better get moving, and quick. She turned back to the stairs, deep breath, exhaled, and then slap, slap, slap went the boots as she made it to the first floor.
She raced over to the exit door and stopped. She put her ear up to the shiny metal object that led to the outside world. Her heart was racing, as she listened for zombies shuffling nearby, listened for cars, for people, for anything at all that disturbed the silence, but there was nothing to be heard. The world was dead.
She breathed in and breathed out, opened the door, and stepped out onto the sidewalk with her bat held high, ready to swing at anything coming at her. She wasn’t swarmed or attacked, and mercifully the bad weather had passed leaving behind an icy mess that only a North Carolina winter storm can leave.
She pulled up her coat, and made her way over to where the Acorn dropped every New Year’s Eve. When she arrived at the spot, Joe was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sank. It dropped down into the pit of her stomach and drowned.
“Get it together, girl. You know Joe; he wouldn’t just be out here waiting with the zombies. Where would he hide if he was hiding?” She asked herself, glancing around.
The place was filled with empty buildings and cars, along with a healthy abundance of zombies. She spied a place not far away from where she was standing. It looked like a place Joe would hide in. It was an easy in and easy out kind of building with windowless frames and busted out doors. She rushed over to this building, and peered into the dark interior with her light. Nothing much in there, but remnants of a world that use to exist. That world was gone now, but the litter of the human race still remained.
“Joe!” She quietly screamed, trying not to be too loud about it. “You in there?”
No Joe, but there was something moving on her right, and she turned in time to see a zombie shuffling and sliding towards her. It slipped on the ice, and she heard its left arm shatter when it fell. It tried to squirm towards her, as she stepped up, and smashed in its head with the baseball bat.
She turned from the now non-moving zombie to the buildings around her. She walked the sidewalk for a bit, peering into the black of each building, going inside when she could; and she tried really hard not to raise her voice when she called out his name. She also tried several of the cars, in case he was asleep in one of them (he was a deep sleeper); but all she found was emptiness, and no Joe.
She searched for a bit more, and then just gave up. Joe was just not here no matter how badly she wanted him to be. He was either dead, or he wasn’t going to make it before the midnight hour.
She found a bench and sat down, not minding the wet cold settling into her legs through the fabric of her jeans. Being quiet didn’t attract zombies, so she tried to remain that way even as the tears started to flow. The noises of her sobbing eventually attracted the shufflers nearby. They started to notice her, and she thought about not getting up, just giving in and letting them have her. At least as a walking corpse she would be in the majority and not the minority. The thought of that comforted her at first, but then it became too much to bear. She had no intention of becoming a mindless corpse drifting through the days like a sailboat with no breeze, so she got up off the bench, and went into a store nearby. She found a place to hide, to keep watch, and she told herself, as she sat there shivering and fighting back tears, that if Joe wasn’t there by the morning, somehow she would force herself to leave.
*
Joe searched the city, once, twice, and a third time. The storm moved from sleet to freezing rain, and then it stopped completely as he watched the clock on the dash click off the hours. New Year’s Eve was drawing closer, and there were no signs of Becky.
He had reached the outer limits of the city again, the residential section, and was about to turn back when the zombie stepped in front of the car. He swerved to avoid it, out of instinct, and the car started to slide. He tapped the brakes, tried to turn into the skid, but nothing worked. He was heading down a hill and picking up speed. A passenger once again in the car he was driving.
The car looped around a couple of times, and righted itself just as it slammed head on into the back of a pickup truck. Clothes and furniture from the bed of the truck covered the car, as the Maserati came to rest, smoldering and crumpled.
Joe, slammed into the air bag with his face (should have worn a seat belt even though it was a Zombie Apocalypse), and bounced back into the leather seat. He was temporarily dazed, as he sat there a moment and looked at the dashboard clock. There was still enough time to race back on foot to the spot where the acorn dropped each year at this time, but he would be cutting it close if he left right now.
He scanned for zombies. They were lurking, stalking his way, but he thought he had enough time to get out of the car before they arrived. He grabbed
the shotgun, and opened up the box. He put a pistol into each pocket of his coat, zipped up, slid on his winter gloves and hat, and then stepped out of the car.
A zombie shuffled towards him. He stepped up to it, took out his knife, and slammed the blade right between the accountant style glasses it was wearing. He pulled out the knife, and dropped the zombie to the ground. He wiped off the blade, and turned back to the city.
“Need some help?”
Joe turned around, knife up, ready to slash and kill.
“I mean you no harm.”
Joe could see a man in the shadows with a flashlight, probably armed heavily. “I’m okay,” he replied to the man.
“Name’s Mike, Mike Beem. I saw the accident. I thought I could help.”
“Not really a good place for a chit chat, is it?” Joe asked.
“No, it isn’t,” Mike replied.
“I’m okay. Just got to get into the city by midnight.”
“It’s packed tight in there. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
“Happy New Year,” Mike replied, as he left.
“Good night and Happy New Year to you,” Joe replied, and Mike was gone. Like so many things in this world, he was gone.
Joe’s thoughts turned back to Becky. Where would she be if she was waiting on him? He had no answer for that, as he heard three gunshots go off in the distance. They echoed out of the city, and disturbed the silence of this dead world. They came from the direction of the Acorn Drop, which was a lot closer than he thought it was. He knew inside it was her, fighting for her life, so he hurried off in that direction; and he hoped he would be able to save her in time.
*
Through tears and prayers, through hopes and fears, through anxiety and nervousness, Becky waited for Joe in the once-bustling store, as time slipped forward, drew closer to midnight. Through the big display window, she watched the street, and the bright white world, as she hunkered in the dark and waited.
A couple of zombies shuffled by, but they paid no attention to her. They just went about their zombie way.
While she sat there, arms wrapped tight, shivering, her mind drifted back to her wedding day. This was now her happy place, where she returned to when she was stressed out or in need of some relief. She had worn a soft white dress that day, sleeveless, cut low at the neck. The veil was made of an Italian lace, and her hair was pulled back into a braided pony tail. Joe and the groomsman had worn the traditional tux and tails. Her bridesmaids were in black to offset her virginal white. There were flowers, several rows of seats on the beach, family and friends spread throughout–most of them dead and gone now. She could see Joe smiling, as she walked down the makeshift aisle in bare feet. It was morning, the day was warm, and it was perfect.
She recited the vows in her head, hers and his, and thought about how “till death do you part” meant so much more in a Zombie Apocalypse. Her mind then found the memory of the reception after the wedding. The dancing, music, booze, the tent, the people, joy was there in that long ago place that now didn’t exist.
Around 11:20, she heard a car. Becky opened her eyes, stood up and looked. She saw lights breaking up the night. These lights also illuminated a zombie who was shambling close to the store. She made a mental note of it, and then put her eyes back on the car. It was obvious to her that with the speed the car was traveling, and the way the light was flashing out of the driver’s window, that someone inside this vehicle was looking for someone. Carefully, she made her way to the door, and pushed it open. The zombie (a rotten half decayed man in a business suit) lumbered towards her when she stepped outside. A quick whack of the bat, a busted open head, and the zombie shuffled no more. Becky quickly made her way to a spot where Joe could see her.
The car with the search light slid to a stop, inches from where she stood on the sidewalk. Moments passed as the person (or persons) moved around inside. She shielded her eyes and tried to look into the vehicle, but the car lights were blinding her.
The driver’s door opened, and Becky stepped up towards it, nearly bouncing with glee. She was just about to see –
Greg stepped out of the car, and eyeballed her. “Would you look at what I’ve found?” He then leaned back into the car. “You were right Ted. It was her coming out of that parking garage. You still got your eyesight even though you look like shit,” he smiled, and then leaned back out.
Becky took a step back. Her happiness spread into fear so quick that she almost fainted.
“Now, girl, I’m really going to make this right. You’ve cost us a lot of time, a lot of bullets, and a lot of effort.”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Becky spit the words out like she was a trapped animal, unable to escape, and in this case, she was.
“I have a debt to settle. You have to understand that, plus you got me so hot and bothered that I have to take care of it. So – ” He left the door open and walked towards her. “ – If you climb on into the back seat this will go down real easy. I’ll get what I need, slit your throat, and then I will put a knife into your brain. You’ll be dead, no chance of turning. If you make me work for it, like you have for most of this miserable fucking day, then I will do my business, slit your throat, and let you turn. Your choice,” he replied, aiming the gun behind her. Three quick shots echoed out across the silent city, and three zombies were now without a head. “What’s it going to be?”
“You can have me. Just let me live, okay?”
“I can’t do that. It’s just a debt I have to settle. It’s nothing personal. You just have to die in order to make it all right. Okay?”
“Please. There’s no one to tell, no one to report you to. Why do I have die?”
“You just don’t get it, do you stupid? You killed a good friend of mine back there. I have to have an eye for an eye. So, come on now, what will it be?”
Becky stood there a moment–tried to tap into that survivor instinct. She really saw no hope here, and no matter how strong she could be or how much of a fight she could give, this guy simply outweighed her and outmuscled her. She would be no good in a one-on-one fight. He would have his way whether she wanted it or not.
A thump on the passenger side of the car, interior and not exterior. Greg turned towards the sound, and then walked around to the other side of the car. He gripped the handle, and pointed the gun towards the door. He opened it slowly.
Becky should have run for it then, but she was so caught up in what was about to transpire that she couldn’t move. For some reason she had to know what was beyond that passenger door.
A second later, the door opened, and Ted fell out onto the pavement with a thump. His entire left arm was gone, severed with an unskilled hand, stump burnt and black from a quick disinfection. Greg backed up, as Ted got up off the ground, and zombie shuffled towards him.
“I thought I caught it in time,” Greg replied, aiming the gun. “Guess I didn’t. Sorry to let you turn like this.” Ted stumbled into Greg’s arms, and Greg held him for a moment while his brother gnashed those teeth near his neck. He thought of the good times they had when they were kids. The good times they had throughout life. He couldn’t believe it was about to end like this. Becky watched, as Greg put the gun up to Ted’s skull. “I love you – ” Greg’s voice trailed off, as a trash can hit him from behind knocking the gun free. This sent him sprawling to the ground with Ted on top of him. Becky turned away, as Ted ripped open the flesh of his brother’s throat sending a geyser of blood into the air.
Bang!
Bang!
Two shots rang out, and the heads of Ted and Greg exploded into brain bits, as Becky turned towards the gunshots that echoed around the city, and stirred up the zombies.
She squinted her eyes into the dark, and she saw Joe racing towards her.
They embraced, kissed, let the tears flow. Life was good once again, because they were back together.
“Are you okay?” Joe asked, looking her over.
“Somewhat, a couple of
close calls, but I survived.” She paused. “How are you?”
“We can catch up later. Too many zombies about. We need to start moving.”
“Damn walking corpses. I’m sick of them,” Becky replied, disappointed that their kiss would not happen at this spot, but understanding why it couldn’t eased the pain a bit.
“I couldn’t agree more, but we need to get out of town. It’s smarter and safer. At midnight we will stop. Celebrate together. Does that sound okay? I’m sorry it can’t be here. I wanted it to be too,” Joe replied, pulling out his pistol and firing at a couple of zombies nearby. The shots echoed out through the streets, as their zombie heads exploded.
“Sure. Let’s just go.”
“Promise, I will make it up to you,” Joe replied, as he made his way over to the car the two thugs had left idling. It was an all-wheel drive Subaru, perfect for this kind of weather. He was thankful these guys at least had good sense when it came to cars, maybe not about life choices, but at least with vehicles they were A-Okay with him. He moved Ted and Greg’s dead bodies out of the way, and helped Becky into the car. He closed the car door, and climbed into the driver’s seat. “How about some tunes?”
“Sure,” Becky replied, smiling, afraid to be happy, but knowing deep down where it counted that she could be. He was here, and he was safe–they were safe together again, and that was all that mattered.
Joe rummaged around in the CD holder for a moment–mostly metal stuff, Testament, Tesla, Megadeth, Five Finger Death Punch, DragonForce.
“Here we go. This should put us in a beach mood.” Joe took out the CD and slid it into the CD player. The sounds of Kenny Chesney filled the interior of the car, as Joe pushed the window down, and aimed the gun towards the front of the car. While “When The Sun Goes Down” played, he shot a couple of zombies in the head who were almost in front of the car. Once their heads were dead, he put the car into gear and drove over to the Maserati. He put the box of supplies, and his back pack into the Subaru. He then climbed back into the driver’s seat.
The Mike Beem Chronicles: 6 Tales of Survival, Hope, and The Zombie Apocalypse Page 10
