Zombie Attack! Rise of the Horde

by Devan Sagliani

  “You’re free to get me back,” I said. “Unless you’re too chicken?”

  Benji peeled off his clothes down to his boxers as fast as he could then jumped in, narrowly missing me with his feet. We got into a loud, splashing contest for about five minutes that ended with us both laughing hysterically. It was great having him around. In a lot of ways he had become like my kid brother.

  “Truce,” I said.

  “No way,” Benji replied with another hand splash aimed at my face. “I win!”

  “Okay,” I said. “Don't be a spaz. You win.”

  The chlorine was burning my eyes. I closed and wiped them, trying to restore my vision.

  “Xander?” Benji's voice sounded strange but I couldn't see him. That last shower of water had gotten me good.

  “Hold on a minute, Benji,” I said. “I think I got something in my eyes.”

  I swam under the surface of the pool and opened my eyes. I loved the way it felt to be fully submerged in the water—like I was floating. When I came up, I saw Benji standing in the shallow end with his hair dripping water all over himself and his hands thrust high in the air. Just past him on the patio was a very familiar looking teenage girl pointing a shotgun straight at him.

  “Who are you people and what do you want,” she said, turning from Benji to me. I held my hands up and smiled. I couldn't help it. The girl threatening to kill us with the shotgun if we didn't give an answer that she liked was none other than Felicity Jane.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What are you smiling about?” She fumed, turning on me.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I just wasn't expecting . . .” my words trailed off.

  “What?” She said fiercely, fear in her voice. “A girl with a shotgun?”

  “A celebrity,” I said. “I mean a reality television star. Guess we're all on our own version of reality TV now.”

  “If you're trying to convince me not to shoot you,” she said, cocking her head to the side, “you are doing a really bad job.”

  “I'm Xander,” I said. “And this is Benji.”

  “Are you stalking me? Is that why you’re here?”

  “A little full of yourself,” I scoffed, “aren't you? We didn't even know you'd be here so how could we be stalking you?”

  “Then why are you here?” She waved the gun around, aiming first at me and then at Benji.

  “Could you put that thing down?” I was starting to get ticked off. “Please, before you hurt someone.”

  “Not until you explain what you're doing here,” she ordered.

  “Okay,” I said. “No need to go psycho on us.”

  “Start talking,” she threatened, turning the gun fully at me.

  “We're heading south to Hueneme,” I told her. “Our place got over run by a zombie horde. We've had a really crazy couple of days on the road. We just need a place to relax and recharge.”

  “So why did you come here?”

  “Benji is a big fan of Ever Rest,” I explained. “He remembered the location from a magazine article he read. We thought this area would be less populated, meaning fewer zombies to fight off. Most of these rich people don't even live in these mansions full time anyway.”

  “We never thought anyone would actually still be here,” Benji added. Felicity lowered the shotgun at last. A puzzled look came over her face.

  “Hueneme?” She scratched her head. “I don't get it.”

  “His brother is a big shot in the armed forces,” Benji said. “He's stationed there.”

  “We had some trouble coming down,” I said. “We're exhausted. If we could just sleep for a while, maybe rummage for some supplies, we'll be on our way.”

  She stared at us for a minute, thinking.

  “We'll have to ask Jax, but I’m pretty sure he won't mind,” she said. “He has more than enough rooms, even for uninvited guests.” She practically hissed the last part of the sentence.

  “Jackson is here?” Benji's mouth hung open in surprise.

  “Yeah,” Felicity said, “but he’s sick. I wouldn't get your hopes up that he'll perform a personal concert for you.” Sarcasm dripped from every word as she spoke.

  At least she's not pointing a shotgun at us anymore, I thought.

  “You said he’s sick. Be honest. Is he infected?” I asked. She turned her full rage on me.

  “No he isn't,” she practically screamed. “He's just sick. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, holding my hands up for fear she might shoot me. “Chill out. We're your guests. Be cool.”

  “Then act like guests instead of intruders,” she said. “You can start by getting dressed.”

  “Um,” I said, looking a little lost.

  “What is it now?”

  “We didn't really bring towels to this pool party,” I said.

  “You were just planning on drying out in the sun?”

  “Actually, we were so happy to see a clean pool we didn't really think much at all,” Benji said, jumping in and saving me. Instantly Felicity softened. Benji has that affect on people. Yet again, I was really glad he was with me.

  “I’ll get you some,” she offered. But then she turned and glared at me like I was an enemy. “Wait here.”

  She walked back into the mansion leaving us alone.

  “Dude,” Benji said. “I can't believe it's actually her!”

  “I know,” I confided. “I can't believe how mean she is in real life. This was not what I was expecting at all.”

  “What is it with you two?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It's like on one level you're both fighting and saying rude things to each other,” Benji began, “and then on another level something else is going on.”

  “I don't know what the hell you're talking about,” I said. “I think the sleep deprivation is getting to you. Quiet, here she comes.”

  Felicity came back with large, ultra fluffy towels that smelled like roses. It was like we had died and gone to heaven. Benji and I quickly toweled off and redressed, ditching our boxers and going commando while they dried out in the sun. When we were back in our jeans, Felicity led us into the house. There was a large kitchen with huge windows that looked out onto the ocean and pool. To the side of that was a huge living room with several big flat screen television sets and a couple of super comfy looking couches. There were pictures of lightning striking the ocean hanging all over the walls. They looked like the ones people used to sell prints of at the mall, only fancier because they were real. In the middle of the room were several guitars and an amp, right next to a video game console.

  “Follow me,” Felicity said, leading us down a long hallway deeper into the house. Platinum albums with sales numbers in glass cases lined the walls, along with pictures of Jackson with famous people like former President Bill Clinton and Bono. We passed a couple of guest rooms with the doors barely cracked. There was also a small, normal looking office and a studio space.

  “That's his private studio but believe it or not, he usually writes in the living room.”

  Felicity Jane is playing tour guide for us as she takes us to meet Jackson Everrest, I mused. Maybe we died back in New Lompoc. It would make more sense. I'm sitting in the truck with a bullet from Tank's gun in my head bleeding to death right now while ravenous zombies tear me apart and Benji screams bloody murder. There is no way I am actually here!

  “How many people are staying with you?” Benji asked, snapping me out of my twisted fantasy.

  “It's just Jax and me right now,” Felicity said.

  “Are you dating?” Benji looked up at her innocently and she smiled. I was glad he asked. I was just as curious about that as he was, but after the way she took everything I said wrong I didn't plan on asking her myself.

  “No,” she laughed. “Jax is a close friend, like a brother.”

  “Does he know he's in the friend zone?” I asked, trying to be funny. I regretted saying it even before she turned her head and gave me an evil glare—a glare
that felt like she had physically punched me in the guts.

  “Jax can date anyone he wants,” she said. “Our relationship is special because we've never tried to be anything more than friends. Just because I’m an emancipated minor doesn't change the fact that I am sixteen and he is twenty-four. Why am I explaining all this to you?”

  She threw her hands up in disgust.

  “I don't owe you anything,” she said.

  “I'm sorry,” I confessed. “I didn't mean anything by it. I am really tired and I was just trying to be funny. I'm an idiot. Please forgive me.”

  She fought back tears. I had hit a real nerve but I couldn't see why. I really needed to learn to keep my trap shut. Felicity Jane was one of the few celebrities I'd had a crush on and now that I was finally meeting her in person, I couldn't seem to stop putting my foot in my mouth.

  “I didn't mean to snap at you,” she said. “I shouldn't take my stress out on you. You gotta understand that you are the first living people I've talked to other than Jackson since Z-Day happened.”

  “You don't need to apologize to us,” I said, cautiously reaching out and putting my hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “We came barging in unannounced and I have been kind of a jerk. I promise I will mind my manners from here on out. No more excuses.”

  She laughed as tears streaked down her face.

  “You have been kind of a jerk,” she said, wiping her face. “Thanks for that.”

  Benji looked back and forth from her to me like a confused dog. To be honest, I didn't really know what was going on either. I just stood there awkwardly with my hand on her shoulder for too long. I stepped back to give her some space and she took a deep breath.

  “I've gotta check on him first,” Felicity said. “Hang back and wait for me to call you in. Okay?”

  “Got it,” I answered.

  Felicity opened the large doors at the end of the hallway. Inside, it was dark and cool. I could make out a huge bed but not much else. The sound of the ocean was mixed with some kind of chanting, coming from somewhere inside the room. She left the door cracked slightly as she went in. It seemed strange just standing there but I was determined not to do anything else to set her off. Eventually she came back, stepping out and shutting the door behind her. Benji looked crushed.

  “He says you can stay as long as you like. There are guest rooms you can sleep in. Most of them have clothes in them. You’re welcome to help yourself to whatever you need including food and water from the kitchen.”

  “Do you have hot running water?”

  “No,” she said. “We still get cold water from the faucet and it's clean, for now. The toilets still flush but there is no way to know how long that will last. It's not like someone is working at the sewage plant anymore. I think we're just lucky that most of this neighborhood is abandoned, like you said.”

  “What about drinking water?”

  “Jackson has a huge supply,” she explained. “We moved it to the kitchen after things quieted down.”

  “From where?” I asked.

  “From the panic room,” she pointed out. “We were in there for over a week. Once the electricity went out, we decided to get out. They say you can't get stuck in there but your mind starts to play tricks on you in small spaces like that.”

  “You must be running pretty low on supplies.”

  “Not really,” she said. “Jackson was raised Mormon.”

  “I knew that,” Benji said, proud of himself.

  “I don't get it,” I said. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he kept a stockpile of food and water hidden in the house,” she said. “Mormons believe in being prepared for the end of the world. They will probably play a role in rebuilding the country if the military ever gets things under control. Jackson left the church when he was fifteen but old habits die hard, as they say.”

  I was growing more tired by the second. Now that I knew we could actually relax and rest, it was like my body was rebelling against me.

  “What do you do about lighting? What I mean is, do you use candles?” I yawned. I didn't feel like waking up in pitch black in an unfamiliar place, even if it was a mansion.

  “Sometimes,” she said. “If it’s overcast. The stars provide a lot of light, believe it or not. We have a backup generator that’s capable of providing plenty of electricity but Jackson doesn't like to use it at night. He's worried that light will bring looters or zombies.”

  “That's actually really smart,” I said.

  “You look exhausted.”

  “I am.”

  “Go ahead and crash out,” Felicity suggested. “We can talk more when you get up.”

  I was happy to have an excuse to go lie down. I was almost feeling dizzy.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I'll take this room.” I cracked open the door to see that it was beach-themed with soft shades of blue.

  “You gonna crash with your brother?” Felicity asked Benji.

  “He's not my real brother,” Benji said.

  Thanks kid, I thought. Throw me under the bus to the hot celebrity chick.

  “Okay then,” she said with a smirk. “How about your own room?”

  “Thanks again,” I said, making eye contact with Felicity. She held it for a second too long then pulled away.

  “It's not a problem,” she countered. “I'll get him set up. Go to sleep.”

  “Promise me you'll wake me up right away if anything happens,” I said fiercely.

  “I will,” she replied casually. “Don't worry. Like I said, you're the first people to set foot on the property since the zombie outbreak—living or dead. We're safe here.”

  Even though I had no way of verifying her words, they made me feel better. I shut and locked the door. I checked the closets and under the bed, making sure they were all clear. I checked the bedroom window. It was high. If someone wanted to get in that way they'd have to break it and climb in at chest height. I'd have plenty of time to defend myself. I locked the window carefully. I set my sword by the side of the bed. After what happened in New Lompoc I wanted it within easy reaching distance. We really were lucky to get out of that place in one piece.

  Far luckier than the twins, I dismally remembered.

  I sat on the bed and looked around the room. It was quiet. Almost too quiet. I was overly tired and anxious and excited by everything that had happened. The last thing I remembered thinking was that I didn't know if I'd be able to fall asleep. I woke up briefly some time later, on top of the bed in my clothes, fingers touching my katana. I took my shirt off, rolled over, and fell back asleep. If I dreamed at all, I don’t remember it.

  I woke up a few hours later, feeling calm and refreshed. It was still dead quiet outside. I put my shirt back on, grabbed my blade, and opened the door. The sun hadn't quite gone down yet but the light coming down the hallway had that golden quality to it that suggested we weren't far from night. I could hear the sound of music and voices mixed with laughing. I walked out, rubbing my eyes.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” Felicity greeted me. She seemed in a much better mood. Light danced in her sea green eyes as she stared at me.

  Maybe she got some sleep too, I thought as she asked me how I slept.

  “Like the dead,” I said.

  “That's either the best joke in the world or the worst pun,” said a guy's voice to my left. I turned to see Jackson Everrest standing and holding a toy guitar in his hands, smiling amicably. He didn't look sick at all. Benji was next to him, smiling. It took me a second to realize they were playing Guitar Hero, one of my favorite video games of all time. Jackson was actually a character in one of the latest versions. If you got to the highest level you had to battle him to complete the stage.

  “Thanks for letting us crash here,” I said, trying to play it cool.

  “Well it's not like I had a choice, did I?” For a moment I thought he might be mad that we had let ourselves in after all. “We the living have to stick together now. No more ‘mine and yours.’ We
have to work together if we’re going to survive.”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief at the words. He really is cool, I thought. Imagine that.

  “You actually play Guitar Hero?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “I love this game,” Jackson said. “Have you ever played it?”

  “I have,” I said, laconically.

  “Are you any good?”

  “I've cleared the game once before,” I said, trying to sound modest. You don't just brag about your fake guitar skills to one of the world's most legendary guitar soloists of all time. “I assume you shred at it.”

  “Believe it or not I'm just mediocre at the game,” Jackson said. “I've talked to other musicians who have the same problem. Playing buttons is totally different than playing strings. I do okay though. Benji here has been giving me a run for my money. Wanna give it a go?”

  No way, I thought. One of Rolling Stone's top ten guitarists of all time just challenged me to a game of Guitar Hero in his living room. I can't believe this is happening!

  “Sure,” I shrugged, trying to keep my cool even though my heart was racing in my chest harder than if a hundred zombies were chasing me. “I'll give it a shot.”

  Benji gave me his fake guitar controller and I slid the strap over my neck. They'd already unlocked most of the levels so we selected intermediate play and I started playing some Slipknot. Benji's character had been the girl with the pigtails in the pink skirt. I didn't bother to change it, odd as it was. Jackson had selected himself.

  Fitting enough, I thought as I made short work of the song, racking up extra points with the glowing blue notes and the whammy bar.

  Jackson had a little more trouble than I expected. He missed a bunch of notes in a row. Then again, he had been sick according to Felicity.

  When we polished off Slipknot, we played some Metallica and then Black Sabbath. At that point I could see that it wasn't just feeling under the weather that was holding Jackson back. He had serious timing issues hitting the buttons. What was going on?