Last Man Standing (Book 2): Zombie Annihilation

by Lockwood, Max

  “I’d be happy to show you some nice options,” Lucas said, standing up from his desk. “If you just follow me, I’ll make sure you get settled in.”

  The newest survivors, still wide-eyed and in shock, followed after Lucas. Pip took the opportunity to latch onto Sergio, much to the chagrin of her brother.

  “I missed you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

  “I missed you more,” he responded. Matthew saw Adele press a hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle.

  “Where are the others?” Matthew asked, hoping they’d save their displays of affection for somewhere more private.

  “In their rooms,” she answered. “We stayed up late last night cleaning, so everyone’s been having a lazy day. I would have missed you, but I got up to pee and heard a horn honking. I threw on some clothes and got there as fast as I could. So, if you don’t mind, once everyone is settled in, I’d like to go back to bed for a little bit.”

  “Fine with me,” Carl said.

  Pip grabbed onto Sergio’s hand and pulled him in even closer. “Do you want to see our room?”

  Carl rolled his eyes. “I thought you said there was plenty of space here? Can’t he have his own room?”

  “I saved you a room,” Pip responded, raising her eyebrows. “It’s a conjoining room right next to Jennifer. I thought you might want it.”

  “I—I don’t mind where I sleep,” he sputtered.

  “Sure,” she said, lowering her voice. “Well, the choice is up to you. I’m going to bed and I don’t want to be disturbed. Got it?”

  Carl turned to Matthew and made a retching sound. Matthew smiled in response, but had a feeling that Carl was only kind of joking. As well as they all got along, it couldn’t have been easy for Carl to accept the fact that his younger sister was with his best friend. Even Matthew, who was only a fraction as protective of Pip as Carl was, felt a little uncomfortable about the pair sharing a room. But as he often had to remind himself, it was basically the end of the world. If two people wanted to spend some alone time together, then the might as well enjoy it. Matthew sure wished he could.

  As he followed the group up the stairs, he remembered that there was a fully stocked kitchen that he had yet to see.

  “I’ll catch up with you all later,” he said before turning and going back down the stairs. “I’m just going to pop into the kitchen for a second.”

  “Just don’t eat any of the good stuff,” Pip called from the top of the soft, carpeted stairs. “We have more mouths to feed now.”

  Matthew found his way to the kitchen and flipped on a light. His hands trembled as he traced his fingers along the stainless-steel counters. This kitchen was completely standard for a large restaurant. Labeled storage containers were left out on the table, as if an assistant was about to prep for the day when things went bad. A few dirty bowls and utensils sat in the sink, but otherwise, the place was clean.

  He kept reminding himself how exciting it was to have proper cookware and a setting where he could unwind and have a little fun between missions. This kitchen was just like any other. It certainly wasn’t the one where Rebecca was killed, so it made no sense for him to feel uneasy around the door that led to the seating area.

  To distract himself from this thought, he checked out the knives, admiring their sharpness. He imagined himself flying through a big pile of vegetables, dicing them into miniscule pieces in minutes. Then, he imagined how much force it would take to slice through a zombie’s neck with a particularly heavy meat cleaver. He put the knives back in the block and opened the pantry.

  For a restaurant that relied on mostly fresh ingredients, supplies were scant. Someone had clearly added their food to the pile, as he didn’t think Cheetos would be featured in a fancy hotel’s dinner menu. But between what was in the hotel and what sat waiting in the vehicle, it was enough to construct a meal that rivaled the one they had at Mayor Schilling’s town.

  Buzzing with excitement, he ran out to the Jeep and grabbed armfuls of food supplies, dropping them back in the kitchen. He knew that it would be much more efficient to get everyone to pitch in, but he enjoyed the solitude. He made three trips without anyone even noticing what he was up to.

  Then, it was time to meal plan. Matthew pulled out a bag that was labeled as Butternut Squash Soup and set it in a bowl to thaw. Then, he found a cut of beef that was most likely used for soup, or something else where the freshness of the meat wouldn’t be noticed. But it was more than good enough for his crew. He set the giant roast out to thaw, hoping that no one would be upset by the fact that there wouldn’t be more than one little piece to go around. But he would do his best to supplement the meager meal with side dishes made of canned goods, seasoned with whatever he could find in the cupboard.

  Heading out to the bar, Matthew sifted through the selection of wines, uncorking a few to sample. He tried to remember some of the things he remembered about wine pairings, but it had gotten lost in the wide swath of information he had received in the last month. In the end, he chose a couple of reds and a few whites that he enjoyed, hoping the others would as well.

  Before he ended his meal preparation, he played around with the espresso maker, using the jug of filtered water to prepare a cup. He had made it much too strong, so he diluted it with a splash of water and chugged it down. That would take some practice. He hoped they could make this hotel home for long enough to get good at it.

  Matthew felt a wave of calm wash over him as he walked around the restaurant premises. It was good to have a few distractions from reality—it made him feel as though life were somewhat normal again. After all, even if he were in culinary school at the moment, he would be in the classroom learning from other chefs, not heading his own restaurant in a fancy hotel in downtown New York City. He was only using scavenged ingredients and was cooking for people who had survived off packaged food, but it was his own. The circumstances weren’t great, but he had jumped about twenty steps on his way to becoming a chef. It was a small victory in the midst of disaster. But he accepted it—he needed all the wins he could get.

  On his way out, he flipped off the light and smiled to himself. It had been a rough day, but he planned on ending it with friends, doing what he loved most. In some ways, it was more than he had before the virus. Though he still wished it had never occurred, he was glad to find a little glimmer of hope in the darkness.

  24

  Once the commotion from the surprise had wound down, the hotel fell silent. It wasn’t eerie like most silences felt these days, but peaceful. Matthew likened it to the calm a library or a church would bring. It was a comfortable silence.

  He jogged up the plush steps to the second floor, reading the names on the doors as he walked by. Sure enough, the new residents had scrawled their names on the wood with a marker. It seemed wrong to deface property like that, but it was theirs in a way. They could do whatever they wanted with the place.

  Matthew read Pip’s name, printed large enough to see from space. Underneath, Sergio’s name was scribbled in tiny script. Then, Jennifer had a room to herself, followed by Carl’s name in Pip’s handwriting. Outside Carl’s room was a common area, featuring futuristic-looking seating that did not look comfortable at all. But sitting in the circular cushion sat Crystal and a bored-looking Adele.

  “Did you choose a room yet?” Matthew asked the girls, gesturing at the doors.

  “Not yet,” Crystal answered quickly. “We were waiting for you.”

  “For me?” he asked, confused. “Why?”

  Crystal got up from her seat and approached him. Adele reluctantly followed.

  “We know you the best,” she said. “We figured we should bunk by you. We thought about sharing a double, but if Adele wants her own room, the two of us could share.”

  Matthew’s face blushed a bright shade of pink. “Oh, I’m not sure—“

  “I’m kidding,” Crystal said dryly. “But we really do think that we should stay in the room next to ours. We would feel a lot sa
fer that way.”

  Matthew nodded rapidly, relieved that her suggestion was only a joke. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

  “Cool,” she said casually. “I’ll check them out.”

  She hurried off to peek inside a room, leaving Matthew and Adele in the hallway. He felt uncomfortable just standing there, but he didn’t particularly want to follow Crystal into the room either.

  “You better watch out for that one,” Adele said, rolling her eyes. “She’s got a crush on you.”

  “Really?” Matthew said, partially amused and partially skeptical. “Are you sure about that? Her fiancé just died. I’m sure she’s not interested in anyone right now.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure,” Adele said. “She keeps talking about you.”

  “What does she say?” he asked, trying not to appear overly curious. He was starting to feel like a gossipy high school kid again.

  “Nothing overt, but I think her mentioning things about you is a sign that she thinks about you a lot. She basically recounted every conversation you’ve ever had.”

  “Seriously?” He didn’t know how he felt about that. He had been a little rude to her in some of their talks.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Adele said. “It’s all so benign, so boringly benign. Anyway, if someone was into me, I’d like to be the first to know. Just giving you a head’s up.”

  “Thanks,” he said dryly. “If you hear anything else that you think I should know, you know where to fine me.”

  Adele gave him a half smile and turned toward another empty room, scoping it out. Matthew wandered up and down the hall, waiting for the women to return with their verdicts. He didn’t particularly care where he slept, as long as it had a bed and he was alone in it.

  He wondered if Crystal really did have feelings for him or if they just enjoyed winding him up. The latter seemed more likely. Matthew didn’t really see any exceptional traits that would cause someone like Crystal to be into him.

  But if it was true, he was flattered. There was no way he could find interest in any woman at this time, but it felt good to know that he might be able to, if he ever managed to make it through the mourning process. He found it strange that Crystal could find interest in a man after losing her fiancé, but he supposed he didn’t know what their relationship was like to begin with.

  Within minutes, the girls returned to the hallway. Adele had a smug smile on when she walked out of the room.

  “What did you find?” Matthew asked.

  “You can take that one,” Adele said, pointing at the door across the hall from Carl’s. “We’ll share the one next door. Don’t worry, there’s no conjoining door.”

  “Should I be worried?” Matthew chuckled.

  Crystal playfully shoved Adele’s arm. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get washed up.”

  Adele winked at Matthew before disappearing into their shared room. Matthew suppressed a grin as he turned into his and shut the door.

  Crystal was correct in her comparison to the manor where they briefly stayed. Matthew’s room was pristine, suggesting the fact that they housekeeping team had prepared for guests that never arrived. The bed was covered in layers of linens and fresh blankets and the furniture was all sleek and modern. Though the room was just smaller than his room in the gated community, there was a sitting area next to the window that gave a nice view of the city street. Or it would have been a nice view, had the streets been clear of bodies and wreckage.

  Exhausted from their day, Matthew flopped on the bed and scooted his body toward the pillows. He could hear giggling from the adjacent room and wondered if he was the subject of their girlish laughter. He grabbed a pillow and cradled his head in it, pressing the side of the pillow to his eyes. It didn’t entirely mute their laughter, but it deadened it to the point where he felt like he was eavesdropping. The last thing he wanted was to hear his name mentioned out of context.

  Matthew turned to his side, reaching out toward the empty half of the bed. Out of habit, he took up the right side, while leaving the left empty for a companion who would never return. He slid his hand up and down the sheets, trying to imagine Rebecca there with him.

  This is when the sting of loneliness hurt the most. There was no one with him to distract from the fact that he was painfully alone. At the same time, he didn’t want anyone around, to distract him from the memory of his wife. He felt her presence the most in these moments, where he wanted her to be with him more than anything.

  It didn’t help that he could hear the girls next door talking. That just reminded him that some people seemed to be able to move on from loss. Though he knew that his wife would want him to move on, he still felt guilty for even thinking about the possibility that a woman could have interest in him. Not enough time had passed. He hoped she’d understand.

  The worst part, the part he tried to push down the most, was the fact that Crystal was a nice girl. She was smart, athletic, and pretty cute. However, he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, not even himself. They were friends and nothing more.

  Too restless to lie down, Matthew got up and went to the bathroom to scrub his hands and prepare to make supper. His stomach growled at the thought of eating something hot and well-prepared. The vegetable beef soup from the commune was good, but he knew he could do even better. He was already thinking about ingredients he wanted to look for the next time they went shopping, knowing that he had somewhere to cook.

  When he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, Matthew hardly recognized himself. His closely-cropped, dark hair had grown shaggy over the last month. He had dark circles under his eyes, in addition to some creases in his forehead. He felt as though he had aged fifteen years overnight.

  The pink scar on the side of his face was also a new addition to his already scarred visage. However, the other remnants of the small cuts he endured in the army had faded into little white lines, no wider than a pin. This most recent injury was far more noticeable and made him feel like he was staring back at a stranger.

  It continued to baffle Matthew that he could survive an injury that had destroyed others. He tried to remember his conversation with Mayor Schilling and everything she said about the virus. Hadn’t she said that the virus was extremely contagious? He remembered her mentioning bites and scratches specifically as common ways to transmit the disease. So, common sense would dictate that he was infected.

  Yet, he showed no symptoms of the illness. Besides a brief week of serious sickness—probably brought on by extreme grief—he felt fine. Had he just lucked out and dodged a bullet, or was he still in danger?

  Then again, there was something that Mayor Schilling mentioned about the disease being dormant. According to her, the disease was capable of moving throughout the body at different speeds, taking either very little time to incubate or a long time.

  Matthew had witnessed whenever the virus moved quickly. He had seen people receive a bite and get sick immediately. Someone could be running from zombies one moment, and the next, shaking uncontrollably. By the end of the hour, they were no longer human.

  But he had yet to meet anyone who developed symptoms even a day after infection. He had heard plenty of stories of people shooting themselves or others after the fact, just to protect others from future attacks. Hell, they had even left someone to die by the side of the road, all because they had a bite in their leg. The virus had only been rampant in the population for a relatively short amount of time. Were there more people with injuries that hadn’t led to symptoms yet?

  Hypothetically, if Matthew were one of the people with the dormant virus, would he one day wake up and realize that he was a zombie? Or would he start to crave human flesh and feel angry sporadically? Had he done anything that could infect others, or was that impossible with the dormant virus? Mayor Schilling gave them a lot of information, but that just led to more questions. His life could be on the line. He wanted answers.

  For a second, he considered telling the others that there was a chance he was s
ick but not showing any symptoms yet. That way, if he suddenly turned, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. He immediately realized that telling anyone would be a terrible idea. He had no close friends or family in the group. They could kill him without a second thought. He was a liability and completely disposable.

  So, he was left exactly where he had been before. He had to keep his mouth shut and hope that he was in the clear. That, and he hoped the scientists in the group could figure out a cure before the disease came to fruition.

  Matthew splashed a little water on his face, trying to calm down. He gasped and stared in horror at his reflection. He remembered how weird he had acted at the hospital, even though he couldn’t remember any of it. Apparently, he had killed with a rage the others hadn’t seen before. Were these symptoms coming out of his dormant body? He didn’t know why, but the zombies seemed to be powered through rage. Had he experienced a brief flash of the illness?

  Feeling faint, he sat on the edge of the bath and took slow, steady breaths. Unfortunately, there was no instruction manual for what to do after being infected by a zombie. He didn’t know if extra sleep and a multivitamin would keep his body strong enough to resist the illness or if any attempt to stay healthy was futile. He was scared, but no one could know his dirty secret. That would be just as deadly as the virus.

  Matthew just hoped that if he had the virus in his body, that he would have a little warning before things turned bad. He had grown fond of his tribe and wanted to be able to protect them from his uncontrollable mind. The worst thing he could do would to overstay his welcome and end up killing them all.

  If Matthew was on borrowed time, he planned on using it to the fullest. He would try to do as much good as possible to cancel all the bad Mayor Schilling and her cronies had inflicted upon the world.

  He chuckled to himself as a silly idea popped into his head. He daydreamed about a situation in which he would know that he was about to turn. He would travel back to the villa, pretend to make amends with Mayor Schilling, singing her praises. She was so egotistical, that if he said the right things, she’d welcome him back with open arms. Then, he would turn, taking the whole compound down with him.