by James Master
Roland followed Ashley's gaze to back to the end of the main aisle and saw five more zombies approaching them at different paces towards them. Roland aimed his gun from underneath the zombie and fired the remaining shots at the five approaching zombies. The first two bullets hit one in the chest; the third hit it between the eyes. The fourth and fifth shot hit another zombie in the head. As the others advanced, he tried to push the one off of him, but the corpse was too bulky. He moved his head around to see the young girl still screaming. Roland had neither the time nor the patience to calm her down so he tried a different tactic.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” It did the trick because Ashley stopped her screaming. Roland applied a smoother approach. “Now that you’re calmed a little, can you get me some bullets from my belt before they kill us both?” Ashley nodded and slowly walked up to him.
“Listen, I know you have been through some horrific events, but now is not the time to slow down and freeze up. I need my bullets if we both want to survive.” That seemed to make the girl move a little quicker. She reached down to his right side and pulled out a handful of bullets from a pouch from his belt.
He quickly grabbed them out of her hands, reloaded, and took aim at the three remaining zombies. He fired the first bullet and sent it flying into one of the zombies head. He deftly shot the second in the eye. The final zombie was now bending down to get Ashley, who had fallen down next to Roland. Roland stuck the gun out into the side of its head and fired. Ashley was deafened as the gun discharged about an inch from her head. The moaning of the last zombie abruptly stopped. They didn't say or do anything for a moment. The store was silent again except for the overhead speakers playing the song, “The Girl from Ipanema”. Finally, Roland turned to Ashley, who was getting her hearing back and asked “Were you in charge of the choice of music? Because if you had been, I don't think I would've saved you.”
Ashley eyed Roland for a second, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. He saw her lips perked up for a second.
“From where I was standing, I think that I was the one who saved you in the end.” Roland considered it for a second and nodded, “Fair enough.”
That made them both start laughing. Roland was happy to finally hear something come from her mouth other than screaming. “No, I was a cashier. What am I going to do now?”
Roland started to slide out from under the zombie and said “First get that thing off you, and then we get the hell out of Dodge. It isn't safe here.” He helped get the thing off Ashley. Standing, she spoke softly. “That was Billy Renfroe. He has been trying to get on top of me all summer. I doubt this was how he wanted it.” She then asked Roland, “What happened to them? Why are they trying to kill us?”
Roland hurried the girl out of the store and into the streets. “Honey, I have no clue why this happened, but I know that they are zombies and that you shoot them in the head.” Ashley stopped dead in her tracks.
“Zombies? What the hell do you mean?” Roland stopped and turned to her and spoke calmly. “Well, it’s like this: Hell is full, so the dead are coming back. Now let’s go before the gunshots attract others.” Ashley churned over what had happened as she let Roland guide her off the street.
*** 6 ***
Around an hour later, Roland and Ashley found themselves standing in front of a seemingly abandoned two story house. He motioned for her to wait outside so he could check the house. Opening the door, Roland started to walk inside when he felt a tug on his gun belt. He turned and saw Ashley trying to pull the single shot out of his pouch. Roland was about to tell her to stay put but stopped when he saw the fear in her eyes. Her eyes told Roland of the fear of being alone, of the zombies, or just being helpless. Seeing her that vulnerable was too much for him to bear. He took her hands in his and drew the pistol.
He handed the small pistol to her and said, “Don't fire unless you have too. It's only got one shot.” She took the gun and in that moment, her eyes held less fear in them. She looked the pistol over and nodded to Roland. He nodded, pulling his revolver from his holster, just in case. Ashley followed Roland into the quiet house.
Chapter Three
*** 1 ***
“Daddy, my birthday party is going to be totally awesome. I am going to Paris today, I hope that's okay, so I can be the only girl at my party that has the best dress. That last party I went to, Kelly was wearing a skirt that was way cooler than mine....” For every sentence, billionaire Ben Jones nodded. He had been nodding for the last month. It always happens around this time each year. A month before Jessica's birthday, she would relay her requests, more like demands in Ben's opinion, for her party. Even though Ben was drinking his coffee while reading the paper, he listened carefully to his daughter's every request. Every year, he would give them to his secretary who would then hire a party coordinator that would bring his daughter's requests to life. After the requests were finally demanded, Ben finished his coffee and left to give them to his secretary, leaving Jessica alone in the dining room.
The room was one of many in the mansion in Oxford, Indiana. It was by far the largest structure in the city. It was where Ben Jones was born, raised, and had returned to revitalize the small town. Growing up, Ben had to work when he was a child to help bring in money for his family. That was how he started his own business. His father had left his mother, three brothers, and himself for a hooker in Delaware. His mother was already working two jobs, one as a cashier and another as a waitress when his father left. His brothers were too young to work so he started up his own lawn mowing business. It took off after three years and eventually turned into a lawnmower factory that he set up in the small town during the 2009 depression. Jones's business provided so many jobs; it brought the small town from a desolate spot in America to a booming industrial city. He had achieved this at the age of twenty. At the age of forty, he was living on his family’s farm, only now the old farm has been renovated into a magnificent mansion. Concrete walls enclosed the sixty-acre mansion, barbed wire topping the wall, making the place look like a prison from the outside.
*** 2 ***
Jessica's father married her mother when he was just starting his business. Ben and his wife, Maria, wanted more children, but each of the five times they did get pregnant, the babies were still born. Maria was thrown into a state of depression after the fifth attempt. She committed suicide a month after the fifth. Jessica had become Ben's most cherished, yet spoiled, possession on Earth. When Maria was still alive, Jessica got about half of what she wanted, but after Maria passed, Ben was increasingly more lenient and pretty much gave her whatever she demanded. The birthday parties each year are examples of such demands.
Jessica stood up from her chair and pranced in her pajamas to her bedroom. The bedroom was large by some people’s standards, but Jessica thought that it could be larger. After showering for an hour, she changed into jogging shorts and a tee shirt. Walking down to the exercise room, she and her personal trainer Lydia would work out for their morning hour. From there, she went back to her room again and took a longer shower. After that, she dressed again into her casual clothes and made her way to the garage.
She walked down the long line of beautiful expensive cars, many of which had never been driven. She opened the door of a 1970 Plymouth Superbird, started the engine, and drove down the driveway knowing full well that her father hated it when she took the Bird out driving. Listening to the purr of the Superbird, she drove off to get her daily mani and pedi. She ate out at a swanky bistro afterward and returned home to finish her homework.
She was taking college classes online as a junior at Indiana University at South Bend. Her father had invested a lot of money into the college, mostly the biological and theological fields of study, the sole reason they let her take all of her classes online. Dinner followed, usually with Ben absent due to business affairs. The ritual bubble bath that lasted an hour long was the part she enjoyed most. The night ending with a goodnight kiss from Ben and her falling asleep, after about an
hour texting with her few “real” girlfriends. That was a routine that Jessica “Daddy’s girl” Jones followed pretty much to the letter, for seven days a week 365 days a year.
*** 3 ***
The routine changed however on October 15, 2012. Jessica woke up at 7:30 in the morning with a fresh list of things she wanted to give her father. She got out of bed, showered and changed into the first outfit of the day, which consisted of a pink skirt, white buttoned-down blouse, knee high red stripped socks and funky black and white high tops. Running into the dining room, as usual, Jessica found herself strangely alone. It didn't even look like anyone had started to set the table for breakfast. She walked into the kitchen and found that the cook and the server were missing.
Jessica thought for a moment. She didn't think it was a holiday, but it could have been one of those Mexican ones. From somewhere in the front yard, she heard what sounded to be a loud bang. She thought suddenly that the servants were just late and that it was their car backfiring.
Running out of the kitchen and into the dining room, she looked out the window that overlooked the main courtyard where the front gate was located. She thought she saw her father shooting his hunting rifle into the group of people that were grouping around the gate.
Rushing out of the house and into the garage, she powered up the Kubota club car and quickly sped down the gravel drive wondering why the hell her father was shooting at people. When she stopped the car and got out, her father set the rifle down and turned to her.
“Jessica, get back into the car and wait in the house. I will deal with these things.” Jessica stood her ground staring at her father. “Why the hell are you shooting at those people? Have you lost your mind?”
Ben looked at her, then to the people at the gate, then back to Jessica. “Oh God, you don't know what has happened to these things. Just look at them dear, take a good look. Look at them and realize that they are no longer human.”
Jessica turned from her father and looked at the masses that had gathered at the gate. At first, all she saw were normal people trying to tear down and climb the gate, and then she noticed their eyes. They were not the regular blue, brown, or hazel that she would have normally seen, they were decaying sickly yellow, and they were staring at her intently.
“They are zombies, something must have gone wrong at the... You can shoot them in …” Jessica walked up to her father. “What are you talking about? There is no such thing as zombies!” Ben laughed at her daughter's naivety.
“Watch this then. See the zombie in the red hat. That was Mr. Swihart from down the street. Well, watch this.” Jessica huffed and repeated that there was no such thing as a zombie. She turned and saw the one her father mentioned. He was the mechanic from the local gas station. She was always flirting with him, due to his enormous muscles. Seeing his light gray skin cracking and bleeding with those muscles showing through, did not make her feel flirtatious. Instead, it made her consider the possibility that her father was not mental. “I see him.” Ben raised his rifle to his eye and said to his daughter. “Keep watching it.”
Taking another second to aim, he pulled the trigger, exhaling as he did. A single bullet flew from the barrel of the rifle and into the chest of the creature. Jessica watched as the blood slowly leaked from the bullet hole, but the creature neither fell nor flinched. Jessica tried to say something but was shushed by her father. Her father lowered the rifle and turned to his daughter. “See, zombies. Now let's get back to the mansion and we'll plan what to do next.” Ben took another minute to aim. The next bullet finished off the zombie once known as Swihart. He got into the club car and waited for Jessica to join him.
*** 4 ***
Ashley's Journal
October 15, 2012
Day one of the siege:
This morning Roland killed five zombies and I managed to shoot one in the head. I had to reload the rifle twice, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. Roland was telling me that the rifle was his father’s back in World War II. Roland is like, such a handsome guy, for being so old that is. His blue eyes seem to see right through me. During the day, he leaves our little haven. He comes back later with food and water from Steve and Sue's. I don't know what happened to Sue, I hope she didn't end up like Steve. They were strict bosses, but I hope she was away when it happened. I want to go with Roland, but he said to stay here and guard the place. I think he just wants to protect me from those things out there. About an hour ago he came back with some beef jerky and some Aquafina. I don't really like jerky, but since I had nothing to eat since yesterday I ate it without complaining. Steve always used to say, beggars can't be choosers.
At night, we heard the moans, those hideous noises those things make. It started when Roland shot one of them in the head from the window. We both think that they only moan when they see their prey. Roland decided not to shoot at them anymore.
Day two of the siege:
That's what I call it cause we can't leave and they can't get in. Their moaning doesn't seem to stop. It's really dreadful. They are trying to get up the stairs, but they can't because Roland destroyed them. That was the first thing we did after we cleared it of zombies. The house we are in used to belong to Mrs. Canterfield. She was a regular at the grocery store. She was nice to me, she kept complimenting me on my hair. I saw her dead body in the street that led to her house, our safe haven. Roland has been nice to me while we have been here. He hasn't asked me about mom or anything like that. These zombies are annoying. They keep moaning. They are also relentless, I can't stand it. They keep trying to get at us. How will we survive? What is there now?
Chapter Four
*** 1 ***
Roland watches the kid as she writes in her journal. He tried to figure what she is writing but has no clue what a teenager who has been thrown into a zombified world is thinking. At first, he didn't have a clue why any person who had been stuck in this situation would be writing in a journal, but it dawned on him that it was a trick she had taught herself to get her mind off the moans. They were monotonous and annoying, the damn moans.
He and his brother knew that zombies existed, mostly due to their father. He had seen them in the war. Only his sons believed the stories, mostly due to their love and respect for the old man. His father never mentioned their moans being this bad. During the first day or so, he fired on the monsters, but to no avail. The gunshots only drew more of the things out. Now he was using a trick his father taught him in order to drown out everything else around him, the moaning was a good example.
Looking up from her journal, Ashley saw Roland doing something peculiar with his gun. “What are you doing with your gun?”
Roland looked up at her and without skipping a beat, he kept on with the twirling motion of his hands. “I'm assembling and dissembling my gun. Not in that order anyway.” Ashley kept on staring at Roland and his dry humor.
“Why are you doing that?” Roland laughed and finally stopped the gun cleaning. “I do this not just for practice, but also to get those damned sounds out of my head. Something to distract my mind.”
Three more days passed and the moans seemed to die down. Roland carefully looked out the window and saw only a couple zombies. He sat back down on the floor and looked over at Ashley.
“How much more food and water do we have?” Ashley crept from the room they were in and into the bathroom. She had asked Roland why he wanted her to fill the tubs with water to which he explained that they didn't know how long they would stay here so he wanted to make sure they had enough water.
Glancing in the tub, she crept back to Roland. “Almost nothing left, maybe a gallon. There isn't a lot of food left just the candy bars.” She looked desperate for a moment.
“We're screwed aren't we?”
Roland walked over to Ashley and wrapped his arms around her. Roland spoke softly into her hair “We all die eventually kid, no matter if we survive tonight or tomorrow. I'll promise you we, won't die tonight because we are leaving tonight. Pack up w
hatever you need and be prepared to leave.”
*** 2 ***
Meanwhile, in a town some ways south of Walkerton, two men run for their life from the undead. As they round the corner of a building heading down an alley, zombies rush up from the opposite end of the alley, letting out deadly moans at the sight of their dinner. The two of them doubled back into the street now, fleeing from the twice the number of zombies.
Finally finding a small shop that was unlocked, they rushed in and shoved everything they could in front of the doors and windows to block them. The two men looked around. There were four aisles completely filled with nails, screws, hammers and the like. One of the men stated the obvious, “Looks like a hardware store.”
As one of the men took off running between the aisles looking for something, the other, who looked like a modern day hippie, peeked between the items that they used to barricade the windows. He sees the zombies standing around looking for their lost prey. He mumbles, “They don't know where we are. I think we're safe.”
The man is still searching the aisles for something, not hearing the mumbling hippie. The hippie stood, turned towards the man. “I said that you can stop your frantic search for a way out of here man. They don't know where we went. HEY! You deaf or something?”
The younger man stopped searching and turned his attention to his outdated looking counterpart. He had brown eyes and shoulder length shaggy hair. He wore a tan hunting vest and wore a white shirt underneath it. His camouflage shorts were held up by the gun belt he wore on his waist.
“Don't yell. The zombies will hear you. You don't want them to find us. Or do you Gary?” The hippie, Gary, smirked. “Listen, man, that was entirely a misunderstanding. I didn't know.....” The other man cut him off. “When we are both out of this mess we will sort that one out. You can count on it.”
