The Zombies: Volumes One to Six Box Set

by Macaulay C. Hunter

  Once through the field, they cut through an older development of identical two-story condos and miniscule patches of lawn in front. Elania checked homes for foreclosure signs. They could break a window and hide inside until nightfall. There were none, only a sign advertising an open house today. Many of the curved roads were dead-ends, forcing them to go further and further south until they came to a road that passed through.

  The abandoned gas station at the end of one block was tempting as a hiding place until they rounded the back. Homeless people were hanging out there, so they returned to the sidewalk and walked past more homes. Would Shepherds brace little residential roads like these? They wanted excitement, and a car going down a street once every fifteen minutes wasn’t very exciting.

  In time, Micah said, “I think those trees way out there are the woods.”

  Please be the woods. They hustled over several more blocks and came to a park with tall trees along the western edge. Elania craved the shade under that canopy. Few people were in the park at this time of morning. No one was in the playground. Two women jogged south on the sidewalk and away from the park, a homeless man slept on a bench with a cart beside him, and a young couple was walking on a path that led to the woods. Micah and Elania pulled onto the path at a small distance behind them. The woman looked over her shoulder and turned away. Then the man glanced back.

  Something about it put Elania on edge. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” Micah asked. She’d been eyeing a man who had exited the public restrooms.

  “Where’s the gun?”

  “In my backpack.” Smoothly, Micah sloughed a strap from her shoulder. The backpack swung over to her right arm and she fumbled at the zipper. Elania watched the man’s hand slide to his pocket. He was taking out a cell phone.

  The bear spray. She had forgotten all about that. It was attached to her keys, and those were in her pocket. Elania got it out just as the woman took a second look. The man put the phone to his ear. The space was less between them now.

  “Shit,” Micah whispered. The zipper was caught.

  “No, don’t put me on hold! Uh, I think we have a problem here,” the guy said nervously into his cell phone.

  Elania broke into a run, closing the distance before she depressed the top of the bottle. Spray shot out, some blowing back on a breeze and making her eyes water painfully. Micah swung out into the grass to avoid being struck by it. The woman screamed and the man backed up, tripping over her and both of them falling to the sidewalk. His cell phone dropped and Elania pounced on it. Spraying him in the face, she stomped on his phone. Micah yanked the woman’s purse from her shoulder and dumped it on the ground.

  “Please don’t bite us!” the man screamed, clawing at his eyes. Micah churned through all that had fallen from the purse and stepped on the cell phone. The woman curled into a fetal ball and howled about the burning.

  “Come on!” Elania shouted at Micah.

  The couple couldn’t call the cops now, which bought the girls some time to get into the woods and out of sight. They ran into the welcoming embrace of the dark.

  Corbin

  He was used to coping with his dyslexia, but at times it really got to him. Looking at the maps for too long made his head hurt and forced him to quit. Yet it was essential to have a route. Once he thought that he could bear it again, he drew the maps back to his face and followed the others. Someone else should be doing this, but two of the four were moving more at a stagger than a walk from exhaustion, the third couldn’t hold maps in one arm, and the last was Austin. Too panicked at the shouts of the search behind them, he was useless for navigation purposes at this time.

  Going straight west from the approximate position of the house, they’d run into Myamar Road two miles out. That was a road originating from Penger, and it dead-ended at the Corona Nature Park. Corbin closed his eyes briefly and committed that knowledge to memory. Then he switched maps to find the one of Corona. Forbidden to bicyclists and requiring dogs to be on leash and under control, it boasted four trails for hikers and horse riders through hills with open meadows and redwood forests. Green lines wound about under his eyes. Cummings Loop he dismissed first. It barely penetrated halfway through the park and circled back to the parking lot. Frog Gulch was another bad one, running north to south in a loop even shorter than Cummings. A notation on the side of the page said that these were meant for handicapped hikers and those with small children.

  Birdview was good, but Skytop was better. They were the same trail for a mile, and then they split. Skytop led to the end of the nature park as Birdview moseyed north to a scenic hilltop.

  Myamar Road to Corona Nature Park to Birdview/Skytop to Skytop.

  He caught himself just in time from tripping over a fallen log. The afternoon sun filtered through the trees. It couldn’t be far now to Myamar, where they’d swing north, pray there was no brace, and get to the park.

  What day was this? If today was Sunday, Corbin had to take his Zyllevir. They’d left Cloudy Valley on Monday afternoon, spent Tuesday and part of Wednesday under the bridge. On Wednesday night, they slept in the house and on Thursday he stole from the elementary school. So today was Friday. It was critical that he remember that for everyone. Two nights from now, everyone save Zaley had to swallow a pill from the precious cache that once belonged to Brennan. Corbin felt weird about taking Brennan’s pills. Like he owed the dead sophomore an apology.

  He returned to the map. Skytop Trail was a winding mess through the park, but it would move them from east to west. Beyond it was a freeway going north. They couldn’t walk too closely to the freeway since it passed through scrubland, but should keep it in view from the forests farther away. It would lead them to Charbot.

  Myamar and Skytop. It was rated strenuous for a trail, five miles long and going up. There was a water fountain symbol in the parking lot, but no creeks to restock anywhere in the park. West of the freeway was a giant reservoir. He didn’t know if that water was safe to drink, but by the time they got there, they probably wouldn’t care.

  Hearing the barks of dogs, Bleu Cheese looked behind them. The searchers hadn’t surprised them at the house. Corbin, Zaley, and Austin had been outside playing with Bleu Cheese when Micah shot from the woods and up the driveway. The sirens that had been crying out took on new meaning. Elania stumbled into view and the pack of them just moved. The boys dashed into the house to snatch up their belongings, Corbin damning himself for not having everything packed to go. He slung Zaley’s backpack over his shoulder so she could just deal with her arm. Bleu Cheese was off leash and he left her that way. She stayed with him faithfully, so it didn’t seem necessary.

  There wasn’t time to reorganize the weight of the loads or discuss what they had. Not with the sirens, and later on, the baying of the dogs. He didn’t expect police dogs ran around baying like that, not properly trained work dogs, so these belonged to Shepherds.

  Coming to the top of a ravine, they looked down a five-foot drop to a thin gray road. All of them sat down to slide, Corbin waiting at the bottom to haul Zaley back to her feet. He shouldn’t touch her when he was covered in sweat, but it was too late and she needed help. Across the road was a slope that would be very hard to climb. Corbin called, “North!” and they trusted him. That was a terrible thing to be trusted for. He relied on what he heard so much more than what he read.

  The people coming after them clearly didn’t know which direction to search, but if a car came down this road, they were in trouble. Corbin calculated the possibility of that happening. It was Friday, and nature parks were busier on weekends. It must be about four in the afternoon, or five. Daylight wouldn’t have much longer to last, so would someone really head up to Corona at this time? They were in more danger of cars going south than north.

  If someone drove by, they should place Zaley prominently in the group. Their scarves were less suspicious if they were traveling with a girl who had a bare neck. An observer would assume they were just cold,
because why would Zaley be with them otherwise?

  They passed a small sign for the park. He wanted to think of the park as being safe, too far for the searchers to bother with hunting, but there was no magical finish line up there. All he could hope was that the searchers gave off at dark, and nothing like a brace was operating at the park.

  They walked in silence. It was a stark contrast to a bad movie Corbin had seen a few months ago where a group of teenagers fought to retake their country from an invading force. He didn’t even remember the title. The enemy soldiers nearly got the drop on the teens because they were sitting around to talk about their feelings instead of watching their surroundings. But that wasn’t real. If they had actually been in danger, they would have been quiet. This was life or death, not feelings time.

  A shiny red pick-up came south on the road, dragging a horse trailer behind it. Corbin whistled to the dog to keep her tight to his side. The pick-up was going slowly. Zaley threw her braid over her shoulder to bare her neck, edging herself nearer to the road as the others backed off. She knew to do this instinctively. That was the desperation of survival.

  A window rolled down on the pick-up, which slowed further. A woman with short hair called, “Hey, kids! The park closes at six-thirty, just so you know!”

  “Thank you!” Zaley said brightly. “Hi, horse!”

  The pick-up moved on. Now someone had spotted them, and if that woman recognized their pictures later on from the news, she’d report them. But the odds weren’t great that she would do that the second she got home. The horse had to be taken care of first, then dinner.

  The driveway to the park was only a little farther up the road. They turned into it, walking past an open gate and crossing a bare parking lot. Corbin adjusted his mental map of this place and went in front of the group. The path split right and left, the former going to a trail they didn’t want, and the latter going in the direction of everywhere else. Checking around for people, Corbin paused at the water fountain. Austin said anxiously, “We need to move.”

  “This is all the water available in the whole nature park, so we should fill up,” Corbin said. He wasn’t hearing any dogs, voices, or sirens. They had time.

  There was a portable restroom by the fountain. Elania let herself inside while the others unzipped the backpacks. The stream of water was warm on Corbin’s fingers as he filled a bottle. Once it overflowed, Bleu Cheese whined at his feet. She was thirsty. Crouching down, he cupped his hand and filled it with water for her to drink. The bottle was half empty by the time she’d had enough, and he filled it again after Austin finished with his. Rummaging through a trashcan outside the restroom, Micah pulled out four discarded plastic bottles.

  “That’s disgusting,” said Austin when she rinsed off ants in the stream.

  “You’ll thank me later,” Micah said. The restroom door swung open and Elania grimaced to see the ant-covered bottles.

  Sending the dog to Zaley, Corbin went into the restroom. It smelled disgusting, as all portable restrooms did. A mountain of human waste was piled up under the lid of the toilet. Taking a leak in the woods had grossed him out only days before, and now he’d prefer it to going in here. Glad that he didn’t have to do anything other than pee, he shut the lid hastily to keep the scent down. Austin replaced him in the restroom and gagged.

  Corbin’s last shower had been Sunday night. Well, intentional shower, in a shower with hot water and shampoo and soap. He felt grungy. When Micah had filled the last bottle, he turned on the fountain and let it spray his face. He scrubbed at his skin and sprayed again, wetting his hair, too. Night would be cold, but his hair should be dry by then.

  “Would you mind?” Elania asked. Her eyes were dull. She and Micah had been moving since dawn without respite, going all over the woods to elude the people coming after them. He held the button down so the girls could wash their faces.

  Once everyone had visited the john and drank from the fountain, they returned to the path. Elania and Micah wolfed down some food. Horses were boarded here in a large, airy structure. No people were riding in the arena or working among the stalls. A white pony looked up to them, the sole living creature to mark their passage. Bleu Cheese kept turning to eye the pony, never having seen such a thing in her life.

  They wouldn’t get through the whole of Skytop, not when it was five miles at a steep climb. The path curled away from the stalls and split at a sign labeling the trails and distances. Posted underneath was a second sign, which Corbin read slowly. MOUNTAIN LIONS AND ZOMBIES SPOTTED ON TRAILS. PROCEED AT OWN RISK.

  “Oh, I don’t like mountain lions,” Micah commented as he was still working his way through it. She pulled out the gun from her backpack. On the hills ahead, towering green trees shook in the wind.

  “We should get as high up the path as we can,” Corbin said. “We don’t know if there’s a ranger who lives here and clears the trails personally on an ATV or something, or just an employee who drives up at dusk to close the gate to the parking lot.”

  “Budget cuts are so bad that I’d vote the latter,” Elania said.

  But they couldn’t bet on that. Still visible to the parking lot and stalls, they started up the trail. The warning about mountain lions and zombies may have been a deterrent to hikers. It hadn’t been to horse riders. The path was speckled with black heaps of manure. Flies swelled up in a cloud and resettled when they passed. The slope was at an uncomfortable angle, and the path was eroded. It was still muddy in places from the rain.

  A car honked down in the parking lot. Corbin remembered the leash balled in his pocket. He pulled it out and told Bleu Cheese to sit. It would be just his luck to attract someone’s attention for that, rather than his scarf. Snapping on the leash, the two of them continued after the group. The path was lined with trees and poison oak. Some of the poison oak extended overhead through the canopy. Going off-trail, if it came to that, was going to be awful. There wasn’t any way to avoid that much poison oak.

  The trees changed from oaks to redwoods, the air cooled and darkened, and the path leveled or at least didn’t climb at such a noticeable grade. It grew muddier, less sunlight piercing through to dry the puddles. They curved around a small canyon laden with rocks to slow the erosion process. A fallen log lay across them.

  Corbin wished the sign had been clearer. Did zombies mean actual zombies, running wild and on the attack if disturbed, or just people with stamps and one percent infections like him? There was a big difference between the two. His heart didn’t have the room to worry too much about what was in the dark hollows. Shepherds scared him, and so did the police. Ferals were third in line. Micah pushed the gun down the back of her jeans.

  “Want me to take your backpack, Elania?” Zaley asked.

  “I can’t . . . say yes. You’re . . . messed up,” Elania panted. She was trudging along.

  “You’re messed up,” Zaley corrected. “Give it to me.” Elania pulled it off weakly as Zaley removed her sling made of scarves. Pinching it between her knees, she put on the backpack and then reattached the sling.

  A dog barked below and they picked up the pace. What were they going to do if an ATV rattled up or down this trail? They’d have little warning of one coming with these sharp turns around the hillside. Corbin studied the ground for tire marks. There were horseshoes and footprints aplenty, and a thin track that looked like someone had disobeyed the no bicycles rule. He didn’t see big ones made by tires. A SERVICE ROAD sign off the main path dashed his hopes. Someone could easily ride that road on an ATV and just check up the hill for people at dusk. It might be a good idea to conceal themselves now, but everything was either covered in poison oak or at too much of an angle to climb.

  His quadriceps muscles were burning, and he doubted that they’d gone half a mile. Elania massaged her thighs and took smaller and smaller steps. The dog out there was silent. Corbin only heard their ragged breathing.

  Poison oak was even jutting out under a bench on the side of the path. The redwoods
had fallen away to oak and buckeye and acacia, which parted to give them a view of the land south. They shouldn’t take a break here, but he sensed that it could not be helped.

  As Austin and the girls sat down, swinging their legs out to avoid the poison oak, Corbin looked over the side. Somewhere out there in the trees was Cloudy Valley, and home. The sun burned on his face. Dad would be back in California by now if air travel had resumed. It struck Corbin that he had heard no planes in all of this time, so he suspected that it was still suspended. Dad was driving in those circumstances.

  If Mom wasn’t picking up when Dad called because she was dead, and Corbin wasn’t picking up either, Dad was going to be freaking out. He’d call the extended family to drive over to their house and find out what was going on. Shepherds could have Dad’s cell phone number, and be calling him to figure out where Corbin was. But Dad wouldn’t give them information. He didn’t have any to give.

  Corbin turned back to the bench. “We should keep going.”

  “Please, one more minute,” Elania begged.

  “Nice shoes, Micah,” Zaley said. “Someone donated those? They look new.”

  “This is a really wasteful society,” Micah said off-handedly.

  “She robbed a store,” Elania said. “And I unloaded bear spray on people calling the cops about us.”

  The sun was low in the sky. Even now, a ranger could be doing a spot-check and their group wasn’t even to the split to Skytop. Corbin unfolded the map and breathed in. Then he read down the labels of the insignia to see if service roads were marked.

  “Poison oak can’t go through jeans, can it, Corbin?” Zaley asked.