Moms Against Zombies

by Alathia Paris Morgan

  “My parents live down the street from us and had

  already considered Andi an adopted daughter. Plus, they

  know the truth about why Andi’s mom left.” She

  concentrates on weaving the truck and trailer as things

  become congested as the freeways intersect.

  “I hate driving in traffic. I love living in the city, but I

  try to avoid rush hour.”

  “Another question. Why are we getting my parents and not yours?” I watch as we begin to go over the interchange

  and the freeway begins to thin back out again as we head

  away from the city.

  “You know, the people who never leave when there’s a

  hurricane because they can just outlast it? Well, those are

  my parents. They would rather die than leave the home that

  they’ve lived in and worked to pay for. Ironically, they just

  made the last payment in January.”

  “Of course they did, because that’s just typical of life.”

  I snort sarcastically.

  The cars in front of us start to slow down, but there

  doesn’t seem to be a reason.

  I lean over and switch on the radio, hoping for a traffic

  alert.

  Our side of the freeway is still moving, but the other

  side is completely stopped. I don’t have to roll down the

  window to hear the screams coming from the other side of

  the divider.

  “We need to find a way out of this traffic now. I don’t

  think that’s a normal wreck.” I pick up the walkie talkie

  radio to alert the others when it crackles, startling me.

  “Haley, Emma. I’m going to get on the shoulder and

  see how quickly we can get past this mess,” Dawson says

  urgently.

  There’s no chance to brace for the sudden change as the

  truck accelerates. I grab the ‘oh, crap’ handle to avoid

  hitting the door.

  The other side of the highway is filled with stopped cars and as we speed past, I can see the people running from

  their cars, while a few people chase them, albeit slowly.

  An innocent person who hasn’t left his car is pulled out

  and several of the infected people stop to munch on him. I

  can’t see what happens to him, but I don’t think he

  survived.

  Further on, as we race along the outer shoulder, we

  come up on the original scene that has caused the

  congestion.

  An accident has happened and the EMTs have arrived,

  but it looks like the victims and the paramedics all become

  zombies.

  “Well, now we know they can multiply. If someone

  doesn’t stop those things, then we’ll have a mob on the

  loose,” Haley comments as we clear the traffic jam and hit

  open road again.

  “I think we might need to avoid major roads after this

  because if every accident causes people to turn into

  zombies, this could spread really fast.” I hold on as Haley’s

  speed doesn’t return to the normal limit.

  “Hey, ladies. I think we should continue on as quickly

  as we can. I’ve got a feeling that the sooner we get to our

  destination, the better,” Cole chimes in over the radio.

  “I’m good with that, as long as we don’t run into the

  cops,” I respond.

  “At the moment, they’re going to be busy chasing

  zombie people.” Dawson’s laughter comes through the

  radio.

  “This family is crazy,” I radio back.

  The next few hours pass without traffic or problems as

  we pull over in a small town to eat and gas up. There’s no

  point in using our extra gas while stations are still manned

  and have something to sell us.

  The large truck station has a place to park the trucks

  and trailers while we go in to eat lunch.

  We barely finish eating our food when two people

  begin to talk loudly, drawing the attention of everyone in

  the building.

  “Let me tell you, I’ve never seen anything like it before.

  One minute they were taking care of some lady that had

  been plowed in to, but when they put her on the stretcher,

  she was already dead. They covered her face with a

  blanket.”

  “Dude, we were sitting there waiting for them to let us

  through and she sat up and took a bite out of the guy

  wheeling her cart.”

  “You should have seen her get up off that cart and start

  trying to eat people.”

  “Yeah, all of the ones wanting to help were just

  standing there. The police men didn’t want to hurt anyone,

  and you could tell that they were unsure about who to

  shoot.”

  “They just stood there until they were attacked by the

  eaten people. They started shooting, but it was too late for

  them. They became the zombie people, but their guns

  didn’t seem to interest them anymore.”

  “We were just sitting there and they started toward the lines of cars where we were parked. I got so scared, I put

  my foot on the gas and tore out toward the exit, U-turned,

  and headed toward home.”

  “I’m so glad that we escaped and could come home.”

  I just listen to the two young men explain more about

  the scene we had left behind.

  “I think we should get out of here. If these guys caught

  up with us, then others that have been infected might not be

  far behind.”

  “This is going to spread quickly over the next few days.

  I’m afraid that these incidents are going to happen more

  frequently.” Cole wipes his face with his napkin as he

  carries the food tray to the trash.

  The look I give him must be one of surprise because he

  laughs at me. “Emma, even if the world ends, we still have

  to be polite and throw our trash away.”

  “Nana would tan our hides if we didn’t put our stuff up.

  Not something I want to face, zombies or not.” Dawson

  grins and fist bumps Cole.

  “Totally.” Cole agrees as he holds the door open for

  both of us ladies to pass through.

  I thought that Brad’s manners was a breath of fresh air.

  Now I realize it had been passed down to them. It’s

  comforting to realize that Pierce is in good hands.

  “Pierce. Crap,” I say sharply.

  “What?” Haley asks as she walks around to her side of

  the truck.

  “I haven’t thought about him for the past two hours.

  I’m a horrible mom.” I’m on the verge of panicking when

  she speaks reassuringly.

  “Honey, it’s your first time away from him. You

  actually remembered what it’s like to be an adult. Plus,

  outrunning zombies can kind of take your mind off of

  things that you know are taken care of for the moment.”

  Haley’s wisdom surprises me.

  As I take a few deep breaths, I realize that she’s right.

  The reason I’d thought about Pierce was to notice that he

  was in good company.

  Just thinking about my baby has caused my boobs to

  noticeably respond.

  “Ah, you might want to take care of that before the

  boys see it.” Haley motions to the wet spots on my shirt.

  “Great.” I reach into
the seat behind me and pull out my

  backpack with a few extras in it.

  “Here, use this.”

  I look up to see Haley holding an ace bandage in her

  hand and the first aid kit in the other.

  “If you wrap this around your boobs over your bra, it

  will help until, well, your problem is taken care of. You

  don’t plan to keep nursing him, do you?” The look she

  gives makes it seem like an obvious answer.

  “Honestly, I have no idea.” I reach to take them from

  her as I change my shirt and start wrapping my boobs in

  bandages.

  “Does he use formula now?” Haley asks, pulling out behind Cole who’s taking the lead for this stretch.

  “Yes. I haven’t been preforming up to his needs so I

  might have to give up being the perfect mom.”

  “Hey, now. No mom is perfect, and just because he’s a

  formula baby doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You’re going

  to be a zombie killing, bad ass mom,” Haley adds, ending

  the subject as I think about what she’s said.

  I may have really found a friend for the zombie

  apocalypse. Who knew?

  -----------

  There were two more stops on what’s supposed to be an

  eight-hour trip, which turns out to be closer to six hours

  with the way they’re speeding through towns regardless of

  speed limits.

  We were able to bypass two larger cities and any

  problems on the freeways.

  As we get close to the neighborhood where my parents

  live, Haley takes the lead again so that I can give the

  directions.

  The streets in the housing areas are completely empty

  since it’s still the middle of the work day.

  My parents, Gwen and Neil, are both still working, but

  plan to retire in the next few years so that they can enjoy

  their grandbaby more. I’m an only child, so I’m the only

  hope for a house full of grandchildren.

  Haley parks in front of the neighbor’s house so that the

  truck and trailer will fit.

  I suddenly can’t move. I’m terrified. What if my parents are already dead? Or worse, what if I have to put

  them down?

  “Do you want us to go inside with you?” Haley touches

  my arm gently to bring me back to reality.

  “Uh, no. If they’re not home, then you guys might as

  well come in, but it won’t take long to find out.” I brace

  myself as I get out of the truck and approach the house,

  only to have the front door fling open.

  “Mom!” I cry as I run to the figure in the doorway.

  As we embrace, I can’t help the tears that are running

  down my face. I’ll blame it on the hormones later if anyone

  mentions it, but for now, I’m soaking up the fact that she

  and my dad are alive as he joins the family hug.

  “M-hmm.” Someone clears their throat behind us.

  “Oh, excuse me. Cole, Dawson, Haley, these are my

  parents, Gwen and Neil Bates.” I can’t help the relieved

  feelings flowing through me.

  Everyone exchanges handshakes, then my mom ushers

  us into the house and closes the blinds in the living room.

  Crinkling my forehead in a frown, I ask, “Mom, what

  are you doing?”

  “Blocking out movement. We don’t want those things

  to see us and decide we’re their lunch,” Gwen responds, as

  if hiding from “things” is completely natural.

  “Why are you and Dad home from work? It’s only

  Friday.” I look around the room and find the back sliding

  door covered in plywood, and furniture blocked it in,

  keeping it in place. The table is stacked with food, as is the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

  “We haven’t been able to reach you in two days and the

  news has been horrible. Cell phone calls are going through

  sometimes, but it’s becoming more of an issue. I suggested

  we take today off and we planned to come find you if we

  didn’t hear from you soon,” my dad explains.

  “Gwen’s been watching the news coming out of the

  most infected towns, but information is scarce. The

  government is telling people that this is just a terrorist

  attempt to scare us. There isn’t a threat, but we decided to

  stay home. I hadn’t convinced your mom that we should

  leave yet.” Dad gestures around the house. “As you can

  see, she’s preparing for the worst and nothing I say has

  been able to convince her.”

  “Ma’am, you’re right to be worried. This is a serious

  threat and is only going to get worse. That’s why we came

  to get you and move you to Jackson Mountain. We have

  lots of cabins, and it’ll be one of the safest places you can

  be.” Cole’s accent shows a little more of the mountain area

  than that of Dawson and Haley, who only visited

  occasionally.

  “What makes your mountain safer than my home?”

  Mom grills Cole unapologetically.

  Dawson, slightly closer to Gwen’s age then the other

  two, holds his hands out in front of him in a downward,

  calming motion. “Let’s discuss the pros and cons for just a

  minute. The mountain is about an hour from any smaller

  city with a Walmart. It’s over two hours to get to a

  metropolitan area. So the less amount of people means less

  of these zombie things that we have to deal with.”

  His voice takes on a soothing, placating tone that seems to be calming my mom down.

  “Most of the Jackson family has been in the military or

  worked on a police force. The entire family includes

  children who have been trained in gun safety and know

  how to hunt. Have you ever shot a gun?” Dawson asks

  gently.

  “No, I’m not a criminal so I’ve never had the need to

  have a gun,” Mom sputters indignantly.

  My dad just shakes his head at her innocent insults, as I

  sit here hoping that Dawson can talk some sense into her.

  “Oh, I would never think that a sweet, God-fearing lady

  such as yourself would be a criminal. Where we live, there

  are lots of animals that call the mountain their home, so we

  have to know how to protect ourselves.”

  I try to rub the instant wrinkles that are etching

  themselves into my forehead away as Dawson loses any

  chance of reasoning with my mother.

  “No, you can’t kill animals. That’s horrible. How could

  you do that to those poor innocent things? It’s their home,

  and you’re the ones poaching on their territory.” The

  horrified look on Mom’s face speaks volumes.

  “Exactly, ma’am. We like to live in harmony with

  nature and don’t want to force any animal out of their own

  homes. Only when necessary do we have to use force to

  protect our own, and that doesn’t happen very often. We

  grow our own food and have a real sense of community.

  Have you ever been to a quilting bee?” Dawson redirects

  Mom to think about something other than killing.

  The whole room watches in fascination as he craftily leads her to the conclusion that he wants her to come to—

  she needs to leave with us.

  “I haven’t,” Mom responds
cautiously.

  “The women on the mountain get together and make

  most of the quilts our family uses. They have a way to

  make their own butter and candles that we also use every

  day. I think you would love my mom, who everyone calls

  Nana, and my sister-in-law, Kathryn, and don’t even get me

  started on Granny Earlene. She’s a hoot at ninety years

  old.” Dawson could ask for anything at this point because

  my mom is eating out of his hand.

  “Neil, what if we went and visited Dawson and his

  family while all of this stuff is going on here in the city? I think we would be safer there, don’t you?” She turns to my

  dad excitedly.

  “Yes, I do believe this would be a wonderful idea, and

  you could see baby Pierce as well.” Dad pastes a smile on

  his face.

  “Dawson, you should take the supplies that we’ve

  gathered because we don’t want to feel like a burden.”

  Mom motions to all the dry goods and cans stacked

  everywhere. I’m going to go pack a few things. Why don’t

  you help oversee things, Emma, while I get ready?” She

  turns toward me with excitement.

  “Sure thing, Mom,” I yell at her retreating figure.

  “Dad, what happened to her? I just saw her a few weeks

  ago.” I can’t hide my astonishment at the deterioration of

  her condition.

  “The doctor says that by traveling and staying out of her comfort zone, even though it’s for her grandbaby,

  causes her to revert back to old habits of paranoia and

  anxiety,” he patiently explains.

  “She’d been doing so great. I can’t believe it was just

  the trip because she was good during the time she was at

  our house.” I realize that the other three people listening

  have no idea what I’m referring to.

  “My mom has always been on the borderline of sane,

  but before I was born, she lost a baby due to a car accident

  when they were on the way back from a wedding in

  Kansas. She lost it when they told her and mourned for

  weeks, just sitting in a chair and rocking back and forth.

  After six months, she recovered enough to go through the

  daily motions and when she got pregnant with me, it was a

  complete turnaround.” I’d always accepted her quirks, but

  didn’t realize until I was older that it was the lingering

  effects of her craziness.

  “When I brought her home this time, she seemed to

  have moments where she reverted back to twenty-five years