Love in the Age of Zombies (Book 1): My Zombie Honeymoon

by James K. Evans

  The day awoke with a start. Michelle and I both heard something and bolted upright at the same time. “What was that?!!” she exclaimed.

  I got up, threw on some clothes, and ran into the living room. The sound was coming from upstairs. I silently climbed the stairs in my bare feet. With my head close to the trap door, I could hear it—the sound of feet shuffling and scuffling on top of the trap door. There was snarling. And rasping. Zombies. ‘Shit,’ I quietly mouthed. I silently went back downstairs. Michelle was waiting for me, a look of fear in her eyes. I held my finger up and pursed my lips to indicate shhh! Then I pulled her head close to mine.

  “Kevin, what is it? More bad guys?!” she whispered. Her eyes looked frantic.

  “No, it’s worse,” I whispered back. “Zombies. They’re in the house.”

  She gasped. “In the house? How did they get in the house?!”

  I stood there thinking. Reluctantly, I whispered, “On Christmas Eve I went upstairs. There were a whole bunch of zombies. But they were all very quiet. I thought it was weird, so I stepped outside for a minute. I must have forgotten to lock the door.”

  “So we’re trapped down here?” she whispered, her voice betraying an edge of panic.

  “No, we’re not trapped. We have the root cellar exit. And there’s no way they’ll be able to get down here. But it means we have to be extra quiet until we figure out how to get them out of the house. The quieter we are, the fewer might come into the house.”

  I held her at arm’s length, hands on both of her shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re still safe. We still have power. It’s just a minor inconvenience,” I told her. She didn’t buy into it completely, but some of the panic faded from her eyes.

  “We’ll figure this out. We’ll be okay.” I leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. “We’re still together. We’re safe. We’re smart, a lot smarter than they are. It’s just a problem waiting for a solution.”

  She dropped her eyes and said she supposed I was right. We spent the morning prowling around, afraid to make any noise. The whole time, we could hear the sound of them from upstairs. The sound of their feet on the floor above, the sounds of their rasping and snarling. It was quite unnerving.

  While we took care of chores, I was problem solving, trying to figure out how to get them out of the house. What an idiot I was to leave the door unlocked. I’d been so careful up to now.

  So they came in through the side door. I have no idea how many. I don’t think they’re quite smart enough to climb stairs, but I wasn’t sure. I had one gun but not much else. Oh, and a small section of a two-by-four. The axe was upstairs. If I used the gun, it would surely attract the attention of the zombies outside the house. And while I knew we were completely safe—there’s no way they could find the trap door, much less figure out how to open it, it was still problematic. I knew for a fact that we couldn’t stay down here forever. And heaven forbid if something went wrong with the solar power.

  I’m also concerned about our water usage. As long as the weather stays below freezing, we don’t get much water coming in. If we run out, I’ll have to find a way to bring ice in to melt. No matter what, I’m going to have to go upstairs on occasion.

  The only thing I can figure out is to use the root cellar exit. I’ve never tried it in the winter, with snow covering it, so I don’t know how easy it will be. And I’ll be operating blind. Should I open up the hatch and find myself in the middle of a crowd of zombies, things could get ugly fast. But it still seems a better option than trying to go upstairs through the trap door.

  Michelle and I went into the bedroom and I quietly told her my thoughts. She didn’t like the idea of me using the root cellar exit, but she also didn’t like me trying to go upstairs. But she did have one excellent idea I hadn’t thought of.

  “You said it had warmed up outside,” she said, “how warm was it?”

  “It was in the mid-fifties.”

  “Is that normal weather?”

  “No, usually the highs this time of year are in the mid-thirties, lows are in the teens or lower.”

  “What if we put a thermometer in the root cellar near the top of the ladder and checked the temperature. If in a few days the temps drop back to normal, the zombies will be much slower. It might not be completely safe, but it will be safer than it is now.”

  I nodded my head. She’s a bright girl. The thought hadn’t occurred to me. “That’s a great idea! I knew I loved you for more than just your hot body,” I said, “and if I exit during the night, using my camera, it will be a lot colder and they won’t be able to see me.”

  “So once we’re up there, what do we do? The gun makes too much noise, and we don’t have any other weapons down here.”

  “Hold on just a minute,” I protested, “what’s this we business?”

  “Come on Kevin. If we both go up, we can watch each other’s backs. Remember the Bible verse?”

  “It’s not safe, and we can’t watch each other when it’s pitch black out. I only have one camera. Only one of us will be able to see.”

  “Maybe it’s true indoors, but outside we’ll be able to see by the moonlight. Don’t you have a program to tell you how full the moon is? And you can figure out when it’s rising.”

  I still didn’t like the idea, but it was worth checking out. We continued to talk, making our plans. I pulled up my astronomy app and luck was on our side—the moon would be nearly full in three days, and would be rising about 4. Now we just had to hope the weather would cooperate.

  Sure wish I could check the weather forecast.

  After all the joy and romance we had yesterday, this was quite a buzz-kill. Back to reality.

  December 27th

  I’ve been talking with Doc every night. I told him our predicament and our plans. He made some good suggestions we’re going to try to follow.

  I mentioned in passing that our compost toilet was full. He suggested we take the compost with us when we go upstairs. That way, even if we accomplish nothing else, we’ll have one less problem down here.

  December 29th

  Over the past few days we’ve been monitoring the temperature in the root cellar. The thermometer I have keeps track of the daily high and daily low. It’s been getting steadily colder at night. Last night it got down to twenty-five degrees. I’d like it to be even colder, but I guess it will have to do. The plan is to head out early tomorrow morning.

  It’s a pretty sobering plan. We know it could go completely wrong. Despite our plans, we could find ourselves trapped and fighting for our lives. Knowing the risk we’re about to take, our time together has become more precious.

  December 30th

  Things could have gone better. Things could have gone worse.

  I thought we’d covered all the bases. We had the compost to take with us. I made sure my night vision camera was charged. We went to bed early so we’d be well rested.

  At 3:30 we awoke and got dressed. The air in the root cellar was very cold. The thermometer read twenty-two degrees, so I knew it was probably in the teens outside. We sat there for a minute, letting our eyes adjust to the darkness. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use the camera until we got into the house, since last time I used the camera the zombies saw the light emanating from the back of it.

  Our plan was to climb out of the root cellar, eliminate any zombies in our immediate vicinity, then head into the house. Once there, I’d grab the axe out of the storage closet and we’d systematically clear out the house. Once the house was completely clear, we’d close and lock the door I’d stupidly left unsecured, then leave the clean-up work for tomorrow.

  I reached over and found Michelle’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s get this over with,” I said, “so life can get back to normal.”

  “Life with you will never be normal,” Michelle said, holding on to the gun we’d brought in case we absolutely had to use it.

  I climbed the ladder until my back was against the ceiling and my knees were bent, and pushed.
It wouldn’t budge. I tried again and felt it move an inch or so. I remember wondering how heavy it would be, but I hadn’t taken into account the possibility of having several inches of snow or frozen ice weighing it down. I guess we’ll have a white New Year’s.

  I braced myself and gave it one more try, this time climbing up a rung in order to get more leverage. Slowly the hatch started opening. I felt the grass roots over the seam give way. I climbed another rung, then wedged the two-by-four into the gap to keep it open. I climbed up and out and heard Michelle scramble up the ladder behind me. I heard a thump in the grass about ten feet away and concluded Michelle had tossed the compost, as planned.

  It was completely dark. I hadn’t planned on an overcast sky. I could see where the moon was, but it was just a faint glow behind the clouds and didn’t provide enough light to see anything.

  “Shit,” I whispered. “I’m going to have to turn the camera on. Try not to look at the light. Grab my belt loop and stick with me.” I felt her hand touch my back and then grope for my belt loop. Once she grabbed it, I turned the camera on.

  Four feet away from me stood a tall zombie, slowly turning its head our way. One of its eye sockets was empty. It didn’t have a bottom lip, and its rotting, frozen tongue hung down. It was missing its right forearm.

  With an involuntary gasp, I instinctively stepped backwards and felt Michelle pulling hard on my belt loop. I had nearly pushed her back down into the root cellar. Only the edge of the hatch stopped her as she hit her head hard against it.

  I quickly drove forward and to the right, pulling Michelle back from the brink of the hole. She was a brave girl—she hadn’t made a sound.

  I swung the camera back around and saw the zombie still slowly turning our direction. The one good arm was rising, the hand reaching out. It didn’t pose an immediate threat. I had no weapons yet, so I couldn’t eliminate it, but we could easily step around it.

  I turned the camera off to avoid any undue attention, and realized a new problem. In looking at the view screen, I had completely shot my night vision. I didn’t have time for my eyes to adjust, so now I was dependent on the camera for navigation.

  I turned it back on and slowly panned around. There were three more zombies on this side of the house. I could see the door to the house, open as I suspected it would be.

  I silently led Michelle toward the house. We could hear our feet scrunching on the snow. That was something else I hadn’t counted on. I could see every zombie begin to turn their heads in our direction. I didn’t say anything to Michelle, but one of the zombies was Mrs. Erickson. Her throat had been torn out and was now rotted away. I could see her spinal cord partially exposed. The bottom of her jaw was rotting out as well. I turned away, sickened by the sight and by the stench of the zombies.

  We made our way to the house and through the camera I could see five or six zombies standing in the kitchen. One of them was blocking the storage closet. There was no way to get to the axe.

  I leaned back to Michelle and whispered, “One of them is blocking the storage closet. I’m going to have to knock it over.” We slowly and quietly made our way inside. I had to step around one zombie. Michelle stuck to me like glue, still not able to see anything. I reached out and pushed the zombie’s shoulders as hard as I could. It was like pushing a statue. A statue with half-frozen rotting flesh and half-decayed clothes. This one was missing the bottom half of its face from what looked like a shotgun wound. A thought flashed through my mind, wondering if the person who held the gun had survived. I doubted it.

  When I pushed, I expected the zombie to react. It barely did. It fell over just like the block of frozen flesh it was. On the way down, it grazed another zombie. This one tottered but did not fall, slowly swiveling its head as it teetered.

  After the zombie fell, its legs continued to block the door. I grabbed the door knob and pulled as hard as I could. The door opened, but not enough for me to step inside. I reached my arm in as far as it could go and felt around. My fingers brushed up against the axe handle and I grappled with it, nearly knocking it over in the process. Finally I had it fully grasped in my hand and pulled it out.

  Then I realized something else we hadn’t thought of. I couldn’t hold the camera, look through it, and wield the axe.

  “Michelle! You’re going to have to hold the camera!” I whispered. Even my whisper was enough to get their attention, as several began to make their rasping sound, causing the rest to join in. Being so close and hearing them in such a confined area was unnerving, to say the least. With the camera still on, I held it in Michelle’s direction until she took it.

  “Which is closest?” I whispered. Michelle reached forward and held the camera in front of me so I could see the zombie. The light reflecting off my face got its attention, and it started slowly moving in my direction. Michelle pulled the camera back out of my way, and I tried to keep my bearings as I raised the axe in the air and brought it down on the zombie’s head. Once again, it was like hitting a block of ice. The first blow must have glanced off its head. Michelle whispered, “A little more to the left.”

  I struck it again. This time, the axe penetrated about three inches, spraying frozen bone, hair, and brains throughout the kitchen. Michelle once again held the camera out so I could see. I raised the axe and slammed it down into the zombie’s head, near where I’d struck it before, close enough for the axe to penetrate fully into the brain, destroying it. The zombie dropped to the floor with a thud.

  Through the viewfinder, I could see the zombie I had first knocked over when I came in. It was slowly trying to rise, moving faster than I had expected. I brought the axe down onto its neck and felt the spine and tissues crunch as the axe shattered them.

  “Kevin! To the right!” Michelle said. I swung the axe blindly until I felt it hit the zombie. I then shoved the axe as hard as I could, knocking it over as well. As I approached it in the dark, I felt its hand slowly try to grasp my foot. I wondered where Michelle was as I brought the axe down, first hitting it in its half-rotted upper chest, then ending its misery by severing its head.

  As I pulled the axe from its neck, I heard the outside door click closed. Michelle had enough sense to close the door and lock it. Thank God. The last thing I needed was to have more zombies slowly make their way inside.

  I waited for Michelle to come to my side, and when she held the camera out, I could see there were two more zombies nearby. The closest one had turned its head in my direction. It couldn’t see me. I swung the axe toward its legs, hoping to knock this one down too. But the axe struck at a glance and banged against my right shin. Ouch. I raised the axe and swung it at an angle, driving it hard into the neck. With a sickening snap, the axe severed the spinal cord. It fell, landing partially on top of the other fallen zombie.

  One left. By now, my arms were tired. Trying to drive the axe through frozen flesh wasn’t easy, as my muscles had obviously atrophied with the lack of exertion downstairs. I stood there, breathing hard, resting the axe on the floor. I could hear the remaining zombie slowly moving.

  “Here, let me,” Michelle said, taking the axe from me. There was enough ambient light from the camera screen reflecting off the walls for her to make out the shape of the zombie. With a huge grunt of exertion, she swung the axe with all her might, snapping its neck in two. The zombie fell with another thud. “Reminds me of chopping wood back home,” she said smugly, “even though I never did.” I felt like she had one-upped me but also glad she was able take care of zombies when needed. Zombies were now scattered all over the kitchen floor. I was tired. But I knew we were not finished. We made our way through the house but only found three more. None were upstairs, so obviously they haven’t figured out how to climb stairs.

  Michelle took care of two more zombies while I held the camera, and I took care of the last one. I was thankful there were none left, as I had some concern about whether I had enough strength to finish the job. That made the score five to three by my reckoning. Not that I was
keeping score, like Legolas and Gimli.

  The house was finally clear of zombies. But we weren’t quite through. We made our way to the side door and opened it. None of the zombies outside had moved much—it was colder outside than inside so they moved more slowly. As Michelle stood in the doorway, I made my way to the root cellar door. As I approached it, the moon broke through a gap in the clouds. Suddenly the landscape was brightly lit.

  There were scores of zombies. As many as we’d seen at once. And with all the noise we’d made, all heads were turned in our direction. I turned the camera toward Michelle. Her pupils were dark pools, absorbing the infrared light from the camera. Another difference between the living and the living dead—zombie eyes are all black in infrared, not just the pupils.

  I rushed over to the open hatch, kicked the two by four back down into the hole, and heard it slam closed. Then I sprinted to the house, where Michelle was waiting inside. As I rushed in, she slammed the door closed behind me. Just before it closed, we heard a low rumble of sound as the outside zombies began their throaty, raspy vocalization. They were hungry, and we had escaped.

  We stepped over the bodies, then pulled them off the rug over the trap door. I raised the rug until I could lift the edge of the trap door and raised it enough for us to scramble inside, where it was light and warm and safe. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, Michelle turned to me, smiling. “We did it!” She cheered. “We’d better get in the shower and rinse all this zombie crap off . . .” Suddenly Michelle’s eyes grew wide. The blood drained from her face. “Kevin! You’re hurt!!”

  I looked down, and sure enough, blood was flowing freely through a gaping wound on my right shin. My immediate reaction was I got bit!! but then realized the axe had cut me when it bounced off the frozen zombie and hit my leg. At the time, I barely noticed it. It never occurred to me I was injured.

  The implications hit me like a thunderclap. The axe head. We had used it to chop up zombies, and it had punctured my skin. We’d killed more zombies afterwards, spraying zombie tissue everywhere. It was likely I had gotten some rotting tissue in my wound. I stood there, dumbstruck, staring at the wound and the blood draining down my leg.