by DeLeon, Jon
Kira put on the jeans and a tank top and headed out the back door to the marina. Hank was already prepping for the morning’s fishing trip when Kira arrived.
“Morning! I wasn’t sure you were going to show up.”
“Yeah, well I need the extra gas.”
“Well I guess we better get going then, huh? Hop in.”
Kira stepped onto the boat and sat down. Hank untied the last rope and started the engine. Together they set out of the marina and headed to Hank’s favorite fishing grounds. After about four hours of fishing, Kira and Hank had pulled in the catch requirement for both of them plus a few more. “Is it always this easy?” Kira asked as she casted out her line again.
“This is the secret fishing spot my dad found years ago. See?” Hank pulled out a notebook and flipped through the pages until he found a list of GPS numbers. “This location is the third on the list. If the fish weren’t here, they would be at one of these other locations. My father figured it out years ago, before he died.” Hank put the book back in the tackle box it had been removed from.
“Thanks for bringing me here. How much more fish do we need before heading back in?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I came out with you, and pretty soon we’ll have plenty of fish for you to barter with, so when do we go back?”
“About that . . .”
Kira looked at Hank with suspicion. His demeanor had changed.
“Look, this is my boat, and if you want to keep your catch, then you’re going to have to do something for me.”
“What?”
“Well you know, I’m a man and you’re a woman. We both have needs. You needed a fishing job, and I need something a little more physical.”
“No. We aren’t going to do that.”
“I don’t think you understand.”
“Oh no, I get it, I’m just saying that’s not happening.”
“And I’m not asking.”
Hank put his hand on top of Kira’s. She pulled her hand away with a forceful jerk. The ocean surrounded Kira. There wasn’t a soul in sight. She may as well have been in a hidden room. She was trapped.
Hank grabbed her, threw her down onto the deck of the boat and took position over her. Kira knew she was overmatched if she tried to fight him, so she started looking around for a weapon.
“Look, it doesn’t have to be this way,” Hank said.
Kira struggled against his grasp, writhing violently. As she fought, she scratched at him and bit his arm. Hank reeled back and slapped her across the face, sending her to the deck of the boat.
“Trust me, you’re going to like this. You’re never gonna forget me.”
Hank whipped off his belt and threw it to the side. He started to unbutton his pants.
Kira turned her head, crying. She was scared and didn’t know what to do. She saw Hank’s belt, which had been discarded. She heard the unzipping of his pants but didn’t notice it. Kira had eyed something she needed. On Hank’s belt was his fileting knife. She needed a free hand. Hank let go for a second to remove his shirt, giving her the chance she was looking for.
Hank was busy pulling his shirt over his head. Kira struck. She reached, grabbing the knife’s hilt and pulling it free from its sheath. She plunged the knife deeply into his chest, twisting as she lost her balance in the rocking boat, its float disrupted by her violent move. Her aim, although accidental, was perfect. Hank fell dead over the side of the boat and into the ocean, a pool of blood spreading wide.
La Vida Dulce: Outbreak Day +4
11:30 a.m.
Elizabeth ran up the half-flight of stairs at the sound of the door to the yacht opening. Kira walked in and set down a bag. Elizabeth ran and gave her a hug around the waist.
“Elizabeth, oh, it’s good to see you.”
“You’re late. I though you left us too.”
“Oh, of course not sweetie, and remember, Joe will be back. I actually have a surprise.” Kira pointed at the bag.
“What is it?”
“Why don’t you take a look?”
Elizabeth opened the bag and cheered. Inside was a stack of coloring books and crayons. “Thank you, Miss Kira!”
“They’re for everyone. Go show your brother and sister.”
“Okay! Oh, and Miss Kira?”
“Yeah, Elizabeth?”
“You stink.” Elizabeth held her nose.
“You’re right, Elizabeth.”
Kira followed her downstairs and hopped in the shower.
The water ran down her face and naked body, but Kira barely felt it. She stared at her hands. She couldn’t stop them from shaking. They were moving of their own will. The adrenaline of the morning was starting to flush out of her system with the water that went down the drain. Now shock was starting to take over. Her legs grew weak, and she couldn’t stand any longer. She sat down on the shower floor, out of the water, just sitting in the coldness. Kira began to cry. She clutched her face in her shaking hands. Soon her whole body was shaking as silent tears poured out of her face. As she began to calm down, she looked at her hands. There was still blood under the fingernails. The red brought her mind back to her.
What have I done? I killed a man. I am a murderer. I . . . I . . . I don’t feel guilty. What does that say about me? Am I like Dexter? Am I the next mass murderer? How can I not feel bad? I feel bad that I don’t feel bad. Is that normal? I wish Joe was here. He would know what to say. I’m sure he’s killed people. Never in cold blood though. Joe. What will he say if he finds out? Will he kick me off the boat? Will he take the kids away? Should he? I did just kill someone and then go and buy crayons. What is wrong with me? How can I smile and be so happy with Elizabeth right after I did that? I mean, I feel like he deserved it though. I guess it was just self-defense. I only killed him because he tried to rape me. Yeah. Killing him wasn’t my choice. He made me. He may as well have committed suicide. Besides, the sharks will clear away the evidence, right? It doesn’t matter. This is his fault. Fucking Hank. He made me.
Kira had stopped crying as her sadness turned into just anger. Her emotions had hardened. Kira stood up and looked at her hand. It sat perfectly still.
Kira finished washing the smell of fish and blood off her. After she was finished, she got dressed and went about making the kids’ lunch. Out the window, she could see the Conte Cristo tied to La Vida Dulce. That bastard had tried to rape her. Instead he was dead, and she got another boat and a way to provide for the kids. At least karma still existed in the zombie apocalypse.
Southern Mainland Florida: Outbreak Day +16
A long list of successful missions down, Joe had one more to go before a mandatory twenty-four-hour rest period. The commanding officer had imposed it after the last mission. What should have been an easy roof grab like the rest had turned chaotic when the undead mass broke through the gate leading from the fire escape. Joe and one of his men had each emptied three magazines into the line of zombies before they could clip onto a rope and be pulled airborne by the rising chopper. These were the first shots they had needed to fire. They had gotten unnecessarily close to dying.
The current mission was to investigate a strange signal. They were heading farther north than they had ever gone, all the way up into mainland Florida. A signal had been picked up, calling for survivors to rally. If it was true, this would be a place in need of protection and possibly rescue, or even an ally to connect with.
As the chopper approached the source of the signal, its transmission came through clearly. The pilot put the transmission over the radio system.
“Survivors! Come! We have food and supplies. The end is here! The world is new. You are free from your old restrictions, your old restraints. Come to Johnny’s Funworld and enjoy the new world. Get your rocks off with a beautiful woman for cheap. You know you’ve always wanted to. Now there is no police force stopping you from being yourself. It’s time to enjoy the ride.”
The signal repeated continuously.
T
he pilot came over the intercom. “Sir, are you hearing this?”
Joe answered back in disbelief. “Roger. Let’s just rescue those we can.”
“Yes, sir.”
The helicopter set down in a clearing to the west of the building sending out the signal. Joe and his fire team covered the final quarter-mile by foot. The building was one story tall and rectangular in shape. Out front was a carnival tent that draped over the main entrance door on the side of the building, with a green military canopy a few hundred yards away. As Joe approached the carnival-looking tent, a man dressed in a purple velvet pantsuit stepped out.
“Welcome, weary travelers! Welcome to Johnny’s Funworld! Come in, rest your weary feet and spend a little time with a lovely young woman.” The man did a little dance, motioning them forward with an evil smile on his lips.
“We aren’t interested, sir. We are here to rescue you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t need you to rescue me. I’m doing just fine.”
“Sir, I don’t think you understand. We are pulling you and the women out of here.”
“Look, Captain, we have plenty of water and food in the green tent, and we are safe. People come and leave. This is an important place for people to stock up before moving on.”
“I understand that. Which is why we are going to leave a transmission running and the supplies, but we are taking you and your women to a safer area.”
“Listen, for the last time, we don’t need rescue. We are safe. God is on our side. He is watching down, protecting us.”
“I respect your faith, but—”
“I am doing God’s work here!”
“Calm down.”
“I am doing God’s work!” Johnny threw a wild punch, which Joe easily dodged.
“Okay, that’s it.” Joe turned to one of his men. “You, secure him. Everyone else, secure the area, look for survivors in the supplies tent or the surrounding area.” Joe then looked at a young specialist named Martinell, whom Joe had been impressed with because of his amazing accuracy. Joe had seen him pick off zombies with perfect shots between the eyes, firing from the hip, multiple times. Martinell was the kind of man you wanted next to you at all times. Pointing to him, Joe said, “Martinell, you’re with me. We’re pulling the women out of that building.”
“We don’t need rescue!” Johnny yelled as he shoved him to the ground. He was quickly restrained using a pair of zip ties. “We don’t need rescue!” Spittle flew from Johnny’s mouth as he spat out his words at Joe, face in the dirt.
“I’ve got him, sir,” the soldier holding Johnny said, tightening his hold by placing a knee in the irate man’s back.
“Let’s go, Martinell,” Joe said.
“Wait!” Johnny yelled, somewhat more composed. “You can’t go in there!”
“Why not?” Joe asked, clearly annoyed by this man.
“You have to take the magic pills first! They are in my pocket! It’s the rule!”
Joe looked suspiciously at Johnny, turned away from him and walked toward the building. “Let’s go, Martinell, and stay alert. Something’s wrong here.”
“No!” The muffled yell of Johnny fell on deaf ears, and Joe and Martinell strode toward the entrance to Johnny’s Funworld.
Joe and Martinell took one step into the building before being assaulted by a reek of blood and gore.
Joe moved his hand over his mouth, sealing it, both fighting to keep the stench out and holding back his breakfast. Martinell and Joe both pulled their military scarves, shemaghs, over their faces to help keep the smell of rusty metal mixed with decaying flesh out of their bodies.
They walked slowly to the first door. Joe opened it and stepped inside, followed by Martinell. The walls and floor were covered in layers of dried blood. Hand marks and smears were easily visible on the floor and walls. “What the—”
Joe was interrupted by the sound of chains dragging against the tile floor. Next came a loud screeching yell from the dark corner in the back of the room.
“Sir?” Martinell asked.
Joe took a step toward the scream. Chains started ringing again. A female zombie came sprinting full speed at Joe. Before he could even react, a loud pop echoed in the small room. Martinell fired one round that split the zombie’s skull into a million pieces. It fell into a crumpled ball.
Joe took a step forward and examined the now fully dead zombie. “She has a chain and collar around her neck.”
“Sir, what is this place?” Martinell asked in confusion.
Joe stared in disbelief at the dead woman on the ground in front of him. Joe walked out and looked down the hallway. There were five more doors.
“They can’t all be, can they?” Joe asked the air absentmindedly.
“Sir? Please, what is this place?” Martinell asked more forcefully this time.
“This is a feeding room.” Joe answered in near disbelief. “This is a feeding building.”
Joe looked at Martinell. Martinell’s face was full of disgust. Joe’s face echoed the sentiment. Joe hardened his look. “We need to clear the rest of it. Follow me, Martinell.”
Outside, the other men heard the burst of gunfire ring from the building. They moved quickly to come to Joe and Martinell’s aid. As they ran across the open field that separated the supplies tent from the carnival-draped building, they heard four more bursts of fire ring out. Just as they were about to rush in the door, Joe and Martinell exited the building, both with their shemaghs around their faces. The men, panting from their breakneck run, stopped. One asked, “Sir, what’s the situation?”
Joe looked from them to Johnny and made a beeline in his direction, not answering the soldier’s question.
“What did you do?” Johnny was clearly enraged. He was still being restrained in his zip-tie handcuffs, which his guard was holding tightly behind Johnny’s back as he stood there.
Joe punched Johnny in the face. Blood poured from his nose and tears from his eyes as his nose broke instantly. The man holding Johnny let go as he turned to dead weight and fell to the ground.
Joe responded, cold and angry at the man regaining his bearings while fighting to come to his knees on the ground. “We put those things to rest.”
“You killed my women?” Johnny screamed through the blood running over his lips. “They were instruments of justice! They were purifying the world.”
“What are you talking about?” Joe screamed back at him.
“The unworthy,” Johnny said like a bratty schoolkid.
“What does that mean?”
“The sinners who give in to their lustful desires deserve what they find in those rooms!”
“Sir?” Martinell asked, understanding but afraid to be right.
Joe spoke loudly, talking to Martinell but never changing his gaze from Johnny, who had now worked his way back to a standing position. “He was sending people in there, telling them that they would find hookers. Instead they were eaten.”
“What? Sir, there’s no way a guy is going in that building and not running for the hills. The smell alone would make them turn tail,” Martinell said.
Joe looked at the ground for a moment and then looked back up at Johnny. “You said we couldn’t go in without magic pills. You’re not just tricking them. You’re drugging people. What are you giving them?”
“Just something to make them happy in their last moments. A grace they don’t deserve for their sins,” Johnny said dismissively.
“And nose-blind, you sick fuck,” Martinell said angrily.
“They are the sinners!” Johnny shouted at him.
A shot rang out. The man holding Johnny was sprayed with blood as the back of his skull burst into a million pieces. Martinell had split Johnny’s skull between the eyes.
“Hold your fire!” Joe turned on Martinell, staring at him intensely. Martinell stared right back.
The man holding Johnny wiped his face, trying to clean the blood and brain matter off. “What the fuck?”
“Martinell!�
� Joe commanded. Martinell stared, unapologetic. “Burn that building to the ground. We erase this from the earth. Everyone else, clear that supply tent and burn this body. In ten minutes, we get out of this place.”
Helicopter blades whirled through thick black smoke as the chopper carrying Joe and his men rose into the air.
Joe turned and looked down at the colorful carnival tent burning an acrid sheen into the sky. Johnny’s Funworld was melting to the ground, thanks to a flare and forty gallons of diesel.
He thought to himself while looking at that strange scene. What kind of world is this?
CHAPTER 2
The Settlement: Outbreak Day +11
The stray ashes from last night’s bonfire crunched into black powder under Kurt’s boot as he paced around the fire. He walked around the ring of seats that had been arranged around the massive pit built for the weekly celebratory burns. He could still smell the coals that smoldered at the center of the rock circle from last night.
It had been an awesome first night in the camp. Kurt had really enjoyed the bonfire. The laughter and smiles. The feeling of being part of a community. Last night, Kurt had worn a massive grin. Last night, the world wasn’t a zombie hell. No, sitting there watching Liz dance and seeing her pure, white and genuine smile had filled a piece of his heart that had been empty since the outbreak began. Just to witness true release of stress after the fear and terror that had gripped him since outbreak day had been something truly amazing.
As Kurt finished his circumnavigation of the pit, he stood back where his short trek had started, where Tyler now sat. Kurt looked at him, time traveling to last night again. Tyler had been sitting on that same log, watching Liz and the others dance too. Kurt and he had been sitting next to each other, but Tyler’s face showed he was having a very different experience. Kurt had thought that he must have been reading too much into it, but he still couldn’t shake it. The smile on Tyler’s face last night. It wasn’t genuine. It wasn’t pure. It was full of something else that made Kurt uncomfortable. There was a suspicious malice to it. Now looking at Tyler, there was nothing. He was so tired and cold, he sat in a half-awake haze, staring at the ground, hugging himself in an attempt to stay some kind of warm. Kurt shivered himself. It was cold.
