Southern Zombies Three Book Box Set: A Story of Survival, Southern Hospitality, and Southern Blood

by Ann Riley

  “How is my truck? Still in one piece?” Marc asks.

  “Um, yeah?” I say.

  “What the hell?” I knew I should have kept it here and made you and mom go in your car. I just got that truck and it didn’t have a scratch anywhere. Damn, damn.” He says.

  “Hey!!! I would think you would be worried about your aunt and mom, not the damn truck. That can be fixed, we can’t. And I think I can safely say, it has more than a scratch now.” I reply sheepishly.

  “Son of a bitch.” Marc yells.

  Diane is staring at me. “I think we will not go home, just keep driving until we are far away from the ravings of a vehicle enthusiast. No need to throw gas on the fire.” Diane says.

  “I think you may be right.” I tell her.

  I give Marc the closest address I can come up with since Bobby could not tell me exactly where the office is he is hiding in. Marc writes this down as we talk and asks me, “How bad is it out there?”

  “Bad,” I tell him. “It is unbelievable unless you see it for yourself. Never would I have thought some shit like this would go down. But clearly, things you read all your life can come to fruition at some point.”

  “Shit. How are you going to go in and get Bobby? Have you guys made a plan yet?” he asks.

  “No, not yet. I was waiting until we see what type and how big the office is before we plan it out. I don’t want to make a plan and have to make another one when we get there.” I tell Marc.

  “Makes sense.” He says.

  “Unwanted attention coming our way. We have about ten coming for dinner.” I tell him.

  “That’s fucking gross.” He tells me.

  “Whatever. It is what it is. They are coming to dinner and we are the main course. So we are going to get it packed in and ready to go. We will call you again before we move into get Bobby.” I say.

  “Fine, I will be waiting.” Marc says.

  “And keep Trey off the radio. The boy has issues. He seems to think we were chatting like an apocalypse is not going on and then acts like he has more than one Aunt named Tracie.” I say.

  “Like father, like son.” Marc replies laughing.

  “Finally, something we both agree on.” I tell him with a snort.

  “Love you guys and we will be in touch. Your mom says bye and she will be the one calling you next time.” I tell him.

  “Ok.” Marc says. “Bye and don’t put any more dents in my damn truck or I am going to kick………”

  I cut him off before he can finish so I don’t have to hear the threats to my well-being for denting his truck.

  Chapter 10

  “Well, that’s a bitch.” Diane says.

  I look up. Zombies. Everywhere. In front and behind us.

  “What now? Do we try to drive off or start shooting?” Diane asks. “Well, if we try to drive off, and we hit them, they could damage the radiator then we would be walking. And Marc would kill me.” I tell her.

  “Janice, you start banging on the windshield. Diane, start banging with her. I am going to climb through the back window when you guys get their attention to the front of the truck. Then I am going to get on the ground and try to take out some of them while their attention is on you two.” I say.

  Diane starts banging. Janice asks, “Is this a good idea?”

  “We are not going through this shit again Janice. Start banging or get your ass out and distract them.” I yell at her.

  She starts banging.

  I get out the back window, slide down the side of the truck bed and drop onto the ground.

  “What the hell was I thinking? Was I even thinking at all? I have lost it now.” I think to myself.

  I slowly duck walk you to the driver side door. “Damn, I should be on the passenger side since there is still a mirror over there and I could use it as a gun rest.”

  So I take aim. The first shot hits home. The second, not so much. I hit one zombie in the leg and it fell towards me. “Way to go dumb ass.” I pull the stock of the gun up and hit it in the side of the head, and it stays down. At this point I start aiming and firing, trying to thin some of the walkers out. I back up some to get a better aim on a few that have noticed there is a buffet at the side of the truck.

  I continue to take out some of the closer zombies and by now am covered in…. Goo? What else can I call it? Nasty shit? Stinky stuff? The only way to describe it is if you imagine you eat some rotten burritos, cankered, pus filled beef and threw down some rotten eggs with it, and it exploded. Do you need further elaboration?

  With about 5 zombies still stumbling towards me, I back up to draw them away from the truck. I get about 20 feet from the back of the truck and take aim again knocking two more off. Great, three to go I think. One more shot and I got two left.

  These two have made their way behind me. They are planning. If they can. Can they? I didn’t want to wait and see. They started moving a little faster than I thought possible. And so did I.

  Diane is in the back of the truck firing her 44. I hope she don’t wing me.

  “Coming in hot!” I yell.

  “What the hell does that even mean?” Diane asks.

  “It means keep shooting, damn it.” I yell back.

  Is it necessary to explain what this means when she can pretty much look and see what the hell I mean by “coming in hot?”

  When I get to the truck, I grab a hand hold onto, yep, you guessed it, the side rail on the truck bed.

  “Well, that should make Marc happy. Should I break off the other side to match this one?” I ask Diane.

  She just looks and me and says, “It sucks to be you.”

  “Really?” “That’s the best you got?” I ask.

  As we get back in the truck, Riley licks my arm. “Thanks Fuzzybutt.” I tell him.

  “Can we go now?” Janice asks.

  “Oh well, I am so sorry for your damn inconvenience of sitting in a vehicle while Tracie and I were trying to get a path cleared out for us to leave. By all means, yeah, we can go now.” Diane says sarcastically.

  Would it be wrong if I put her out at the next zombie crossing? Janice, I mean.

  Chapter 11

  Finally, we reach Richmond.

  “We used to live here. You should know where things are located.” I tell Diane.

  “That was forty years ago smart ass and I'm sure things have changed in that time.” Diane says.

  “We are looking for Richmond Blinds. Bobby said it was a multi-level brick building.” I tell Diane. “Well, that narrows it down.” She tells me.

  “Let's pull over and see if we can find an office that we can get into and find a phone book. That way we can look for the address of his office instead of wasting time looking”. I say

  “Sounds good.” Janice and Diane say.

  We find a doctor’s office that looks to have been broken into as the glass is broken out in the door. All we need is a phone book. Surely that can't be that hard, right?

  I step out of the truck and look around, then Diane gets out. We make Janice stay in the truck because I'm not in the mood for whining at this point. Riley gives me a look as if he's asking can he go. I tell him I'll be right back and he sneezes at me. I think that may be equal to a snort in his mind.

  “I'll go in first and you cover me. I'll go to the left and you come in toward the right.” Diane says.

  “Ok.” I tell her.

  We turn to go in, and the horn blows in the truck. “What the hell is she doing? Is she stupid or just trying to get us killed? Can I shoot her in the foot?” I say to Diane.

  “There are zombies coming from the corner, she was trying to tell us, and no you can't shoot her.” Diane says.

  “Damn, she could have rolled down the window and said quietly, I see zombies.” I say.

  “That's funny”. Diane replies.

  “What? That she's trying to get us killed or that I want to shoot her in the foot?” I ask.

  “The part when you said she could have told us “I se
e zombies. It reminds me of that movie where that little boy says “I see dead people.” Diane tells me.

  “Am I traveling with the peanut gallery?” I ask.

  “Let's get in before they get here because I don't feel like this shit right now.” I say.

  So we go in. And it's dark. We only need to walk a few feet to the front desk. I watch the door and Diane walks over to the desk and starts looking for a phone book. “Check the drawers on the desk and around the phone.” I tell her. “Yep.” Diane says.

  She finds the phone book and we start back outside. “We got company. Looks like they are coming from the building at the corner.” I say.

  “Ok, if we shoot, more will come. So get out your knife. Do you have your bat?” Diane asks.

  “Why, yes I do. Hanging across my back.” I say.

  “When did you make that?” Diane asks.

  “The other night when you were sick. Marc has tools in the back so I found some leather and bolts to make a bat sling. Works good.” I tell her.

  “There goes another burr in his ass. You being in his toolbox, that is.” Diane says.

  “Well, I may as well take advantage since I won't get to drive it again if he has anything to do with it. So what the hell. May as well get him good and pissed off.” I say.

  I walk out and take a swing, knocking the first zombie on her ass. Diane comes at the next one with her gun stock. We make our way to the truck and get in and pull off to find a place to park that does not have a crowd congregating.

  We drive about a mile and pull over at a convenience store. I tell Diane we need to try to get some gas if possible. Diane climbs through the back window into the truck and starts uncapping the tanks. It looks like someone has already been here and left in a hurry because as I am looking I see a manual hand pump that you can pump out gas with. I grab is and get it started in the tanks Diane has open.

  I leave the tank filling to Diane and get the phone book and find the address where Bobby is. There is also a city map in the front so it shows me we are about a quarter of a mile from where he is. All the while we have groupies surrounding us and we don’t have much time before we will be blocked in.

  I help Diane get the tanks and cans capped and I take the hand pump from her. Then an idea. Yeah, it may not be good, but it isn’t any worse than being lunch for some munchers coming our way.

  “What are you doing?” Diane asks.

  “Well, I was planning on making a Molotov cocktail. Do you know how?” I ask Diane.

  “Why hell no.” She replies. “I never tried to blow anything up.”

  “Well, lucky for you, I am going to give you a lesson. And since I don’t know either, we can learn together. Now, in the movies….”

  “That’s your first problem.” Diane says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You are going by what you see in the movies, and that never turns out good.” Diane says.

  “Anyway, in the MOVIES, I stress, I have seen them put gas in a bottle, stick a piece of cloth in it, and light it on fire, then throw the bottle. And it explodes.” I say.

  “Yeah?” She questions.

  “So, if I can get it to explode, we can take out about 100 fans that are amassing around us.” I tell her.

  “OK?” Again, a question from her.

  “Give me a damn lighter. Get ready to drive and when I say go, you floor it and don’t stop.” I say.

  “Well, we are going to die. I can’t believe I am letting you do this hair-brained scheme you have cooked up.” Diane says.

  I get the lighter and light the cloth in the bottle. And I throw it. “Go, go, go” I tell Diane.

  And we are going. I keep waiting for an explosion. Nothing. I am crushed now that my Molotov cocktail didn’t work. Well, maybe not crushed. Well upset a little. Oh ok, I am pissed off because I did it exactly like I see in movies. And then, all of a sudden it blows.

  “Holy hell, look at that.” I yell.

  “I would never have believed it if I didn’t see it. Remind me to keep the gas and bottles away from you.” Diane says.

  “I think it has blown damn decently.” I tell her.

  I get an eye roll.

  “Are you ready to go get Bobby?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, have to be.” She replies.

  I hope you are ready for this Bobby; I think to myself.

  Chapter 12

  We make our way over to the office. It is a big building. Seventeen floors. And I can see a front and two side entrances. Why didn't I ask him what floor he was on damn it?

  “So how do we know where he is?” Diane asks.

  “Not sure. There is a lot of windows. I wonder if we shoot one out if he can hear it?” I ask.

  “Only one way to find out.” Diane says.

  Diane aims and takes fire at a window over to the right on the third floor up. We wait for a minute or two and nothing happens. She fires again, this time a floor higher and at a window in the middle of the floor. Again, we wait. We see the blinds move now.

  I tell Diane to wait and see if someone is going to pull the blinds. They do. An older man that I later learn is the building maintenance man looks out of the blind. I start waving my arm, hoping he sees me. He looks around. At this point we have around 100 zombies milling around and heading towards the truck. We have about ten minutes before they get over to us. Maintenance man finally sees us. Since he is on the third floor, if we get a little closer he may be able to hear us talking. I start the truck and drive towards the right front of the building.

  When we get closer, I get in the back of the truck. We are almost under the window, but we can’t speak loudly as it will bring the happy eaters running our way. He holds his arm out the window to drop something down to me. Diane asks, “What is he about to drop?”

  “Looks like a two-way radio.” I tell her.

  I hold my arm up and catch. Thank the Gods, I didn’t drop it.

  He speaks first.

  “What are you ladies doing out here?” he asks.

  “Looking for my husband who is supposed to be here in this office somewhere. Maybe you have seen him.” I say.

  “What’s your name?” He asks.

  “Tracie. What about you?” I ask.

  “Sam.” He says.

  “Well, Sam, we are in a hurry here as we have an entourage behind us, so maybe you can tell me about my husband. His name is Bobby Parker. He is five feet 9 inches tall and mouthy.” I tell him.

  “Oh yeah. I know who you are talking about. He said his wife and sister-in-law were coming to get him. I ask him were you guys in the military and he said no, you didn’t need to be in the military because you two could send the toughest of man, monster or animal fleeing for their lives.” He says.

  “Well, I’m happy to know he has been entertaining you guys while we were fighting our way here.” I tell Sam.

  “Get his ass to the window, please Sam. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Man was I happy to see my husband. He looked worn out and tired, but otherwise he was fine. “Hey baby.” I shouted.

  “Damn, I am so glad to see you.” Bobby says. “I have been worried about you and Diane. I couldn’t get the phone to work and didn’t know what the hell was going on. It’s been 5 days since you started this way and I didn’t know anything.” Bobby says.

  “It’s bad out there. No electricity, no phones. Zombies roaming around everywhere. There are traffic jams all over from where it seems people either turned or just got out and left vehicles to try to make a run for it.” I tell Bobby.

  “So how are we going to do this? There is a door that goes out the side. We have a few zombies walking around in here. But I’m not sure how many as we have not been off this floor. And we have 6 people in here, including me before you ask.” He says.

  “Well, give me a few minutes to talk to Diane. Get everyone together and let them know what is going on and they can decide to stay or go.” I tell him.

  “We need to get them at
the side door.” Diane says.

  “Yeah, I think that is the best alternative right now.” I reply.

  “So, tell Bobby to start down and we will meet him. I will get in the back while you pull closer to the door he will be coming out of. I will take out any getting too close and give him some extra time to get downstairs and get out the door. Is the door locked?” Diane asks.

  “Bobby, is the door locked?” I ask.

  “The maintenance man is here, I have keys.” He says.

  “Is anyone coming with you from in there?” I ask.

  “No, they live close to here and around the area and are going to wait for another day or two before they make a run for it.” Bobby said.

  Diane and I look at each other. “Well, they may never get the chance then, but they are adults who can make their own decisions.” I say to Diane.

  “Bobby, start down the stairs. Be careful. Watch your surroundings and don’t get bit or scratched or I will kick your ass when you get down here.” I tell him.

  “Such hostility.” Bobby says.

  “Just get your ass down here.” I say.

  Diane gets in the back of the truck and I slowly pull closer to the door he will be coming out of. Stopping, we sit and eye the door. I open my door and get out with my 30 06 and look around for visitors. None yet. Please stay away, I think.

  I hear a shot. I look at Diane. “She was staring at me.” Diane says.

  I think she is enjoying this a little too much.

  I hear the door knob rattle and look over to see Bobby peeping around the door.

  “Get your ass moving Parker.” I yell at Bobby.

  “I’m moving, I’m moving, hold on.” Bobby says.

  “I’m glad you have the time to piddle around, but you may want to get your ass out of the door and over to the truck as we have a group coming with the munchies. So step it up a little smart ass.” I tell him.

  For those of you who don’t understand southern slang, piddle means to “ass around”, “to take your time”, “to not hurry.” Just thought I would clarify because some people use it to express the need to use the restroom.