Zombieclypse (Book 3): Dead End

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Zombieclypse (Book 3): Dead End Page 6

by Rosaria, A.


  “You tell him anything, and I’ll tell him you touched my breasts,” Priss said as she pushed the guard aside.

  “Bitch,” the guard snarled after her, “I’ll get you good one day.”

  “My father won’t be happy to hear you threatened his daughter.”

  The guard recoiled and his face whitened. Serves you right, Sarah thought. Priss’s father must have a lot of sway to make this tough-looking man flinch like that.

  “Don’t mind him,” Priss said to Sarah as she grabbed her hand and led her away. “I was so worried about you when they took you away, and I’m glad to see you back in class. I thought I lost my friend.”

  “Your father, he—”

  “He what?” Priss said fiercely.

  “He told me I should stay away from you.”

  Priss slowed down and stopped, but held on to Sarah’s hand. After a short while, she turned. She sniffled and wiped her nose. Had she been crying?

  “I don’t care what my father says. I did not like the way they behaved, the things he told me, the way he acted. I’ve never seen him like that, never expected that from him. He scared me.” Priss shook her head defiantly. “But I don’t care what he says.”

  Maybe Priss didn’t care, but Sarah did. An image of her on a metal slab, tubes protruding from her body, and Mr. Ward with a scalpel in his hand flashed through her mind. Everything told her to stay away from Priss, but seeing her like that—the silent kid, finally out of her shell, chin held high, ready to face the world, even her own father, the man who gave Sarah goose bumps just by looking at him—she couldn’t push Priss away. She was the only friend she had besides Terry, and Terry was something else, something unreachable.

  “Just don’t tell your dad you spoke to me.”

  Priss nodded. She offered Sarah her arm. Sarah hesitated, put her arm through hers, and arm in arm, they walked like two children going on a playdate. They went to the remaining classes in the morning, and in the afternoon, they sat in the cafeteria at a table and put their bags on the empty seats next to them to discourage anyone from joining them. As if anyone wanted to. The wary gazes Sarah got from the passing teens told her enough. Nobody wanted her here.

  “Tell me what happened?” Priss said.

  The girl had not touched the sandwich in front of here. Sarah was also not feeling hungry and only took an apple. Sarah told how she was brought to the administration building; however, she omitted the guards’ behavior. She didn’t want Priss to get mad and run to her father and tell on the guards. Sarah told her that Mr. Ward put her on probation and urged her to stay away from Priss. At that, Priss frowned. Finally, she explained in detail how Terry visited her and brought back her watch.

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  Sarah blushed. “He’s just a friend. I already have a boyfriend.”

  Priss raised her brows, looked around, and then scooted forward. She leaned in closer. “Who?”

  “Ralph.”

  “What? Mr. Snider? The old janitor? Eeeuwww.”

  Sarah tried to shush her, not wanting anyone hearing that. God, no! She would never go out with an old geezer. Her perception of life may have made a right turn, but not a U-turn to wacky.

  “No, not him. Ralph is a guy at my high school, before everything went apeshit.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t… It must be hard. I…” Priss withdrew in her chair, all the fun left her.

  “He’s not dead!”

  Priss grabbed Sarah’s hand and cupped them. “But, Sarah, it’s been a year. How likely is it that he’s still alive. With the virus—”

  “He’s immune.”

  “But the infected.”

  Sarah drew her hands back and pushed the chair back to stand.

  “Don’t go. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Please, don’t go. I won’t say anything about it. I just thought you and Terry… He’s older, but not too old, not like the janitor.”

  No, Terry was not like the janitor, but he wasn’t Ralph. As much she liked Terry, he could never be Ralph. In fact, if Ralph were dead, it was Terry’s fault. Sarah sat back down.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Tell me, then. I want to know you better.”

  Sarah smiled. Priss was mighty curious.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  Sarah shifted in her chair. “We don’t have time.”

  “We do have time. Look at our roster. It’s wide open.”

  “We have sociology.” More like brainwash ed.

  “Miss Pinkerman is ill. My father told me she was down with a severe cold and locked down in her house.”

  Anyone with the remotest flu-like symptom was locked down. It didn’t matter if you were well enough to work. No excuses. No risks.

  “We have an hour. So tell me whatever you need to tell me to make me understand. To know Ralph.”

  Sarah didn’t want to. Thinking about what could have been was painful. Sarah smiled, sure she had found a way to get out of telling the story. “I’ll only tell you if you will be open-minded about the zombies.”

  Priss nodded, her eyes wide, brimming with anticipation.

  “Yesterday, you didn’t want to hear anything about it.”

  “Yesterday was yesterday, today is today.”

  “You know they are real!”

  A shadow passed over Priss’s face. “My father told me. He showed me.”

  “Showed you?”

  “Please, you promised that you would tell me if I kept an open mind. My mind is open. Tell me everything.”

  Sarah told her almost everything—from the day she walked to school, to escaping the zombie-infested city together with Ralph, to the nuking of the city. Her being ill and surviving because blondie found her and gave her something for the infection. From there, she changed the story a little. She told her the lies she fed the administration, the scientist, and most of all, Terry. How she escaped, how she found Ralph, how they kissed, how things turned bad at the survivor’s encampment, how Ralph got shot, and how she was spirited away by Terry and his squad.

  Slack-jawed, eyes big, enthralled in Sarah’s story, Priss listened. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. It must be why you can’t like Terry.”

  “I do like him. I really do.”

  “But he killed… well not really killed, but it’s his fault Ralph was injured and left surrounded by zombies. That’s a death sentence.”

  Sarah balled her hands and became rigid. It was true. It was so true, but she couldn’t believe he was dead. She saw him move. He might have escaped. One of the guys might have doubled back and rescued him.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah. Never mind what I said.”

  Sarah sighed and stood. “Come on. We need to go to our next class.” It had felt good being able to talk to someone about what had happened, but at the same time, it also confused her. She had to admit, one year was a long time, and the chance she would ever see him again was slim. Even so, wouldn’t he have moved on? She loved him, but love was more than romance. Love ran deeper. Lost or not to her, he’d always have a place in her heart.

  As Sarah exited the cafeteria, she heard a cough close behind her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ralph went to scout ahead. Lauryn and Brenda had insisted on joining him. He had tried to convince them not to, but only managed to convince Brenda. He couldn’t sway Lauryn, and she followed closely behind him now. It confused Ralph. First, she had ran off on him and now she wanted to stick around.

  “Any sign of trouble, you get the heck out of here,” Ralph said.

  She didn’t answer. She was still angry about what he had said before. He thought he was patching things up with her. I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us. How could that be wrong? It was the truth.

  “Why come along if you aren’t going to talk to me?” he asked much harsher than he intended.

  She caught up to him, smiling. It threw him off.

  “Why did I
come along?” Lauryn said. “Because wherever you go, you get into trouble, and it’s up to me to get you out of it.”

  God, that smile. Radiant. Blinding. There was no helping it; he smiled back. “Just once, a year ago, and I thanked you for that already.”

  Her smile faltered and she looked away from him. “Yes, you thanked me all right.”

  From one extreme to another. What was going through her head? “Lauryn, maybe we should focus on our job and not talk.”

  Nothing he said seemed to improve the situation. Nothing. Brenda’s words went through his head. In two weeks’ time, you forgot all about her and are still putting her on the sideline for someone who has been gone for a year, and finally, she loves you.

  He glanced sideways. He loved how the sun caught in her red hair. The first time he noticed it, it conflicted him. His feelings for Sarah and Lauryn. And Brenda’s words kept messing with him. Why did Brenda tell him this? A year ago, she had pursued him like crazy. She had grown wise and observant, even as he grew dumb and blind.

  The road stretched ahead to a crossroads and a lone gas station. If Phil’s group came upon this place, they might have not bothered with it. The place most likely would be stocked.

  Lauryn quickened her pace.

  He followed her. “Slow down. We better be careful.”

  She didn’t slow down. However, she looked around, her hands gripping her axe, ready to chop whatever popped out to greet them.

  She had grown an inch taller since last year, her hips had widened, and her butt had grown a little plumper. With difficulty, he tore his eyes away from her.

  She moved to the door and waited for him. A rotten stench drifted out the open door.

  “Cover my back,” Ralph said.

  He pulled out his knife and stepped inside. He gagged as the stench assaulted him.

  “It smells awful,” Lauryn said.

  No shit, he thought. Awful like the dead. A corpse lay facedown on the ground between the aisle with candy and crispy chips. A tire iron stuck out of its head. That one would not rise from the dead. The large pool of blood surrounding the corpse made Ralph think this man was still alive when he was killed.

  Lauryn pushed him. “Go take a look in the back, behind the cash register. I’ll grab whatever I can.”

  He had lost his appetite already. However, the sight didn’t seem to bother her. Lauryn grabbed handfuls of candy and pushed them in her backpack. He left her to do her job and walked over to the cash register. No other corpses were behind the desk. An open door led to the back. The room was dark and a stench emanated from the door.

  Ralph slammed the door to make noise. He waited. A moan rose from the back. He heard a wet sound slide on the floor. A rotten face appeared from the shadows. With each heave, a corpse pulled itself closer, trailing behind entrails instead of legs, leaving goo, blood, and flesh behind on the floor. Ralph backed away. Relentless, the zombie followed. As it stuck its head out, Ralph grabbed the door and slammed the zombie’s head. Again and again. The door splintered. The zombie reached it hands out to grab his ankles. He hit it again, using all his strength to slam the door. A loud crack. The zombie’s hands dropped to the floor.

  Panting, Ralph stepped back. Lauryn joined him and held his hand.

  “How much more of this do we have to take?” she said.

  He guessed a lot, the zombies owned the world now. Wherever you went, you encountered them. Millions alive, billions dead. Her hand felt comfortable in his, as if it belonged there. The dread he felt seconds ago dissipated with its warmth. He let go of her.

  “I’m going check the back. Go stand watch outside. I’ll join you soon.”

  “You sure you don’t need backup?”

  Ralph kicked the zombie at his feet. “I’m sure he was the last one.”

  She hesitated, opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, and walked to the exit. She turned once more. Ralph nodded at her and she nodded back. Her eyes followed him before she stepped outside.

  Ralph stared at the door as it shut behind her. It felt good to know someone cared about him. Brenda was right, Lauryn still loved him, and deep down, he had known that already. He had never stopped loving her, not since that first kiss.

  Ralph stepped over the zombie and entered the storage room. At his right and left, shelves went from the floor to the ceiling, stacked with products. The lights were out, and he could only see so far in front of him. Making his way to the back, he careful stepped over the muck the zombie had left. In the back, he found the half-eaten legs in front of a small office space, a wooden desk, a cabinet, an office chair, and a white board mounted on the wall with a roster scribbled on it, adorned with crisscross slashes of blood.

  Ralph opened the drawers but only found pens, pencils, paperclips, the three Ps in office supplies. The shelves contained mostly nonfoods, and snacks and candy. He quickly went through them and grabbed a load of jerky. He ignored the candy; Lauryn would have grabbed enough of that for her sweet tooth. This place was not much more than a tomb now.

  Outside, Lauryn waited for him, axe in hand, her rucksack slung over her shoulder, bulging with candy and snacks. She had a candy bar in her other hand.

  “Couldn’t wait, could you?”

  She flashed him a smile. “Well, it’s been a year.” She bit a big chunk of her chocolate bar.

  “Guess, it’s true.”

  Chewing the last piece, she looked at him. “What’s true?”

  “Chocolate makes all woman giddy. You are practically radiating.”

  “Well, it’s been a year. A lot has happened.” Her smile vanished. “A lot hasn’t happen either.”

  She turned to walk away. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. “Lauryn, stop! I’m getting sick and tired of seeing you smile one moment and then depressed the next.”

  Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I love being with you, but it hurts to know it’s not going to happen for us, ever. It hurts, Ralph.”

  Ralph pulled her into an embrace.

  “Don’t,” she said.

  He kissed the tears from her cheek. “I’m a fool,” he whispered in her ear.

  She pulled back a little, her eyes wide with surprise, and fear. “Don’t. I—”

  Ralph pressed his lips on hers, kissed her, and tasted the sweet chocolate. There it was, the same feeling he had felt that day on the bus. It was true, she loved him, and he loved her. He had been a fool.

  Their lips locked. She relaxed in his arms, he pulled her closer, and they stood like this for a few minutes. They pulled away, still holding on to each other.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Why? He didn’t know if he could tell her that he also loved Sarah, that she would understand that it was a different kind of love. Sarah and he went way back. He had loved her since they were kids.

  “I was confused.”

  “That girl Sarah, do you love her?”

  He nodded. Her mouth drooped. “Why then? If you love someone else?”

  “I’m in love with you too. I never stopped.”

  He went for another kiss, but Lauryn drew back. “Why are you telling me now?”

  “Because I’m a dense fool who only realized this now.”

  Lauryn kissed him. “Yes, you are a fool, a stupid, stupid fool.”

  He had been one a long time. Accepting he loved her broke a dam in him, releasing his pent up emotions. He wanted her. Too bad they didn’t have the time, or the luxury.

  “When we get back to base, we’ll catch up.”

  “You would want that,” she said, smiling.

  He could tell by her smile that he wasn’t alone with that feeling.

  Hand in hand, they went back to the road, crossed the intersection, and kept walking ahead for another mile. In the distance, they saw the first house prop up. They slowed down. The chance of running into a zombie was greater this close to a residential area.

  “So just like that we are back together?’
Lauryn said.

  “Yes, just like that.”

  “Not that we were really ever together…. Oh my God.”

  A zombie shambled into view. A female in a hospital gown, and between its legs dangled an umbilical cord and behind it dragged a baby.

  “It moves.” Lauryn’s voice quivered as she said that.

  The baby, like its mother, was a zombie, moving its tiny arms and legs with each shamble from its mother. Its back scraped on the asphalt, leaving dead skin behind.

  Ralph pulled his knife. “Stay back.”

  Lauryn sobbed and trembled; there was no need to tell her to stay back.

  Ralph walked over to the zombie. It sensed him and homed in on him, increased the shuffle, one, two, one, two, three, four, each step quicker. It stretched both hands out, clawing. Ralph sidestepped and slammed his knife in its eye socket. The zombie dropped. The baby moaned, its tiny hands clawing the air, its toothless mouth open and closed. Ralph knelt next to it. There was no easy way to do this. He sucked in his breath, pinned its head, and pierced the tiny skull with his knife. It gave one last twitch and lay motionless next to its mother, finally at peace together.

  Ralph got up, stumbled on his legs as he walked back to Lauryn. She sat on the road, looking dazed. He dropped down next to her. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Will this ever end?”

  He hugged her. “I’m afraid not.”

  She sighed and stood up. “I guess we better keep going, then.”

  They walked past the mother and baby zombie, not looking at them.

  Every house on the street looked deserted and untouched.

  “Phil really must have had his packs loaded not to check these out,” Ralph said. “Looks clear to me.”

  “We better look further, and make sure the place is not bursting with zombies.”

  Down the next street, a few zombies walked across the street. Slow ones. Ralph and Lauryn walked a block around them into an empty street. They had seen enough. More than enough houses were untouched, and they had seen only a few zombies. With only the two of them, they could easily handle this. It should not be a problem for their group.

  As they left the town, Lauryn slipped her hand into his. They held hands all the way back. He had not felt this happy in a while, and despite the shit that had happened today, he had love back in his life. The future had grown brighter. Soon, they’d have enough supplies to last them months.

 

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