Dying Days 3

by Armand Rosamilia

  J and J Fitness. There was weather-damaged gym equipment piled near the front doors, sun-burnt gymnastic mats and broken furniture. As Frank moved closer, he saw refuse on the side of the building: empty food containers, egg shells, garbage bags overflowing, and vermin feasting. Some of the debris looked fairly new, as well.

  Something loud crashed inside the building, followed by a male voice cursing.

  Frank smiled through cracked lips.

  Chapter Five

  Darlene was still sobbing as the enclave gathered at Murph's stilt house. There were eighteen people piled into the living room, with Murph in his customary spot, in his chair. He was staring at the ceiling as news about Griff and the absence of zombies in Flagler Beach was tossed around.

  John came over and put a comforting hand around her waist and squeezed Darlene close. "Are you going to be alright? You can go home, you know."

  "I don't want to be alone. So much death around us. Will this ever end?" She didn't want to cry but buried her face against his chest and began. John pulled her close and steered her into his room and away from the gathered.

  Darlene pushed him away and wiped her eyes. "Get back out there, before your father or one of the idiots makes some stupid decision. They need your wisdom."

  "I don't want to leave you alone."

  Darlene smiled. "I'm not. You're in the next room, if I need you. I think I'm going to collapse in your bed and take a nap. I need some thinking time. You can handle them without me. Go."

  John kissed her on the forehead. "Stay out of my underwear drawer."

  "I can't promise you."

  "It's only fair, I keep going in yours."

  "I was wondering where all my good thongs went."

  John smiled. "No idea. But stay out of the top two drawers. Maybe three."

  He left and closed the door behind him. Darlene fell into his bed, after pulling her shoes off. She needed a shower and a change of clothes, but right now she only wanted to sleep and dream.

  Most of her dreams were about the world before the zombies. Rarely did they enter her thoughts at night. Some days she wanted to sleep and live in a world where she still had to go to her menial job or deal with bad customers. She remembered a dream from the other night where she was stuck in traffic in Boston, driving her dad's car, while he slept next to her. There were people everywhere, walking and driving and being loud. Darlene missed it. She missed groups of people just having fun or worrying about their job or where to go on their lunch break or what bar to go to that night, and who would be there.

  Darlene didn't dwell on dating and her social life before. It was work and then home to cook for her father and then an early bedtime. She had friends, but none of them were ever close to her. Partying was never her priority. She barely dated, always feeling plain and a bit overweight. Very conscious of her body. Now look at me, she thought. I'm wearing a size I wore in high school. I have muscles and no more love handles.

  She unbuttoned her jeans and slipped under the covers. She could smell John Murphy on the pillow and in the sheets, and smiled. She took in his scent.

  She'd found a great guy, but, of course, there had to be issues. Big issues. He was married, she reminded herself, although the chance his wife was still alive was so damn small. As much as she knew she was a bitch for thinking it, she knew it was a fact. She didn't want to get involved with him, but she couldn't help it. Darlene thought she was one good drunken night away from tearing off his clothes and straddling him.

  She slipped her hand into her pants. She was wet just thinking about him.

  * * * * *

  John Murphy closed his eyes and shook his head. The room was getting louder and louder as more and more opinions were tossed around.

  "I think we all need to calm down in my house," Murph said. "Before I toss you all out. We've had more than enough tragedy as of late. I think arguing over a course of action isn't going to help us one bit."

  John opened his eyes and stared around the room at the few survivors they had left. Since the St. Augustine attack, their numbers had dwindled. Four more people had suddenly left in the middle of the night and taken some of the group supplies with them.

  "I don't think these group meetings are helping," Chris Gray offered.

  Eric looked pissed off. "Why would you say something like that? We need to stay focused on the task at hand."

  "What task?" someone called out.

  "Surviving," Murph said. He walked to the center of his living room and looked at the less than two dozen people there. "When we got here and set up, we had five times as many in number, remember? Now, we're down to nothing. What happens if the group responsible for Flagler Beach heads north? Can we defend against them?"

  "We don't even know how many there are," Chris Gray said. "We didn't actually see anyone. Well, maybe one."

  "Whether we saw someone or not, there's obviously a group of them. I doubt one or two people could kill that many zombies and pile them in rows in the last few weeks, unless they worked nonstop."

  "Maybe it's the military? Or some form of government? Shouldn't the zombies be rotting away by now? Don't they starve if they don't eat or something?" Bri Charland asked. She had just turned fifteen (as far as anyone knew. They'd celebrated her birthday a few weeks ago, even though no one had kept an accurate calendar of time) and was growing into a pretty young woman.

  John smiled at her. "Good questions. I know I hope it is someone positive, trying to clean the area. For what purpose?"

  "Do we make contact? Send a couple of us with a white flag and assess their strength and who they are?" Eric asked.

  People started talking at once. Murph once again threatened to clear the room and everyone went quiet.

  Murph grinned. "Why do we have to do anything just now? I say we set up a recon team to watch them. If we see anyone, we report back without making contact. Wouldn't that make sense? Sending anyone into Flagler Beach with a white flag shows them we are here. If there are a hundred renegades on motorcycles with crazy punk haircuts and bad teeth, I don't want them knowing our position just yet." Murph looked at Bri and winked.

  Eric pointed at John. "If we set up two-man teams to monitor the situation, we might be able to keep relative track during the day. We can set up in one of the beach houses just north of Si Como No Inn."

  "How long do we need to do this? We're already stretched thin," Chris Gray said.

  "Until we find out something." John sat down on the couch. "At first light, tomorrow, I'll go with Eric and we'll spend the day watching. We'll need the best binoculars we have available. We'll be back before dark and report. Sound like a plan?"

  Eric nodded. "I think, with any luck, we'll see who is out there and their numbers. If it is a large group, they can't hide for long. And they would move during the day so they don't get ambushed by zombies."

  Murph sat back down in his chair, his right knee popping. "I agree. We'll get a list together, each day, for two people to get out there and do some recon. Nothing fancy, and no one engaging this potential enemy. Anyone have anything else?"

  "We're getting really low on food. Has St. Augustine rebuilt yet?" Abby Millar asked. She was in her mid-twenties and one of the newest survivors to the fold, having come from St. Augustine.

  John shrugged. "We're so thin right now. I don't know if we can afford to lose two people a day to Flagler Beach and then another two or three sent north right now. I think everyone needs to pull their weight this week and help out the cause, though. Are there any spots we haven't picked clean yet?"

  No one said anything.

  John Murphy knew, for miles around them, they'd been in and out of every store and every house there was. Nothing was left to uncover. Supplies were dwindling and food was scarce. Soon enough they would run out.

  His bedroom door opened and Darlene stepped back out, a smile on her face. "There's still the gas station and the house, you know. I really want to get in there once and for all. I'll head there tomorrow.
"

  "Too risky. Wait and I'll go with you," John said.

  "We need food now." Darlene looked around. "Who's with me in the morning?"

  John noticed Chris Gray looking away. Chicken-shit. Abby Millar stepped forward. "We chicks can kick some zombie ass."

  Darlene laughed. "Sounds good."

  Murph put his feet on his coffee table. "Anything else? No? Good. Meeting over. Everyone get out of my house so I can take a damn nap."

  Chapter Six

  Jason Beams closed his eyes and sat back down on the floor of J and J Fitness before he knocked anything else over.

  "What are you doing?" his sister, Ashley, hissed. "Can you make any more noise?"

  "I can try," he said sarcastically. He didn't mean to fall back into the pile of weights against the far corner, but he was trying to balance on the balance beam running between the mats on the cement floor. He was bored and he missed his skateboard.

  "Shh." Jenny Watkins rose from her spot near the bathroom and pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes. "Did you hear something?"

  All three stopped moving, no one daring to breathe. The inside of the training center was humid, the windows boarded up months ago, by someone else.

  Jason wondered who J and J were, and where they were now. James and Jenni, according to the business cards. He wondered if he'd seen them around town back in the day, maybe served them a beer or mixed drink at one of the places he was a bartender. He wondered if they were wandering the streets of Flagler Beach even now, trying to bite people.

  Ashley went to the barricaded front door and pressed an ear to it.

  Jenny lifted one of the weight bars, brandishing it like a club.

  They didn't use the front door, but the window to the left of it had a wooden piece they could slip in and out to exit. Once a day, one of them left and went foraging. Most days, lately, they came back empty-handed and even hungrier.

  Today, Jenny had decided she was going to head up Route 100 and explore the Flagler-Palm Coast High School. Maybe something had been missed. In the beginning of all this shit, the school had been a safe haven for survivors. They were sure it had been overrun months ago… or was it years? Jason had no idea. Did it even matter? One day slipped into the next, his stomach growling to count the hours.

  "I don't hear anything," Ashley said.

  "You're too loud," Jason said. "Be quiet and listen."

  Ashley gave her brother the finger. "I am listening."

  "It sounds like you're talking to me," Jason said.

  "Will you both shut up?" Jenny clutched the metal bar. "I swear someone is out there."

  "Probably a zombie. They're all around us," Jason said and spread out on one of the mats. "I wish they could be eaten. I'm hungry. Wouldn't that be ironic? Cooking up a zombie and munching. I wish I had the munchies. I need a bowl of something. This sucks."

  Ashley put a finger up. "Yes, there is something out there."

  "Then get away from the door. The wood is probably rotted," Jenny said.

  There was a smash a second before the wood split in two, the topmost part hitting Ashley in her head. She went down and, before she could recover, a man stepped inside and kicked her in the face, knocking several teeth out.

  "Holy shit," Jason said, as he tried to stand up.

  Jenny stepped up with the metal bar. "Get out or I swear I will bash your head in."

  When the man came in, Jason knew he was a zombie. But he was… different. He seemed to be scanning the room with intelligence, sizing Jenny up, before blindly attacking.

  "What are you waiting for?" Jenny swung the bar. "Stupid zombie."

  "He's not stupid," Jason said. As he spoke, the zombie looked at Jason and actually smiled.

  Jenny rushed forward and swung but the zombie put his hand up and caught the metal bar in mid-strike. He yanked it out of her hand and Jenny fell back, tripping over the mats.

  "Jenny, we need to get out of here," Jason said. He was moving to the side room, but knew the only way out was through the battered door behind him.

  "Where are you going to run to, Jenny?" the zombie asked, as he stomped on Ashley's face, over and over, without even bothering to look down at her.

  "Holy shit, it can fucking talk," Jason said. He looked around for something to fight with but he was panicking. He rushed into the side room but it was a dead end. "Shit."

  Jenny tried to run but the zombie grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her to him. He gripped her ponytail and jerked her head back. "You are very pretty, Jenny."

  Jason picked up one of the ten-pound weights and charged the zombie. He didn't want to see his friend get raped by this monster, and, especially, not in front of him. Jason charged but the zombie, still holding Jenny, used her as a shield.

  "Let her go, you dickhead," Jason said. "Fight like a man."

  The zombie punched Jenny in the side of her head and let her slip to the ground. He raised his hands. "I'm no longer just a man, though. I think that's where the problem lies. I'm going to give you one chance to escape. I'll give you a head start, let you slip past me. I'll count to fifty before I pursue. Game?"

  Jason pointed at Jenny, unconscious on the floor. "She's coming with me."

  "No, she is now mine. You can walk out of here and get a head start, or stay and watch me rip her to pieces. It's up to you." The zombie smiled and it made Jason shiver. "In fact, maybe you can find some help. Bring back some help, if you can find it. Have the townsfolk rise up with pitchforks and torches and come after the monster."

  "How the fuck are you talking?" Jason asked.

  "You are wasting your time."

  "I can walk right past you and out the door?"

  The zombie nodded. "You have my word."

  Jason decided to take his chances outside. Maybe there were people still around, and he'd be able to get some help. He might even find a suitable weapon like a gun and come back and shoot this bitch in the head and rescue Jenny.

  He slipped past the zombie, trying not to look at or step on the gore that was his sister. She couldn't be saved, but Jenny could be. Jason needed to step up and act like a man.

  The zombie grabbed Jason by the neck and began choking him, slamming him onto the cement floor.

  Jason fought back but it was no use. The zombie was strong and was on top of him, choking the life from him.

  Their eyes met, Jason's filled with fear and the zombie's filled with bloodlust.

  "Never trust the word of something dead," the zombie said.

  Jason's world went black.

  Chapter Seven

  "I don't like that kid, that's all I'm saying," Eric said. He stood on top of the roof of the building and pulled down his Pittsburgh Pirates baseball cap to shield his eyes. "He's more trouble than he's worth. I'd rather do duties by myself than with Chris. He's an idiot."

  "I'm not going to argue with you, but when it comes right down to it, there aren't many choices left. We can only mix up eighteen or nineteen people so much. And my old man isn't leaving his stilt house anytime soon. Factor in a couple of kids, older people, Bri…"

  "She's a tough little girl," Eric cut in. He smiled. "She might have just turned fifteen, but she's already making her mark. Trust me on that. I'll take her on recon with me any day of the week. Ever see her with a compound bow? She's an excellent shot."

  John grinned. "Who do you think taught her? Besides you and Bri, and, obviously, Darlene, I'm not too confident with anyone else we have around."

  "What ever happened to that redhead you talked about?"

  "Tosha Shorb." John put the binoculars to his face. "She rode off in the tour bus. Who knows where she went. I imagine she's out there, somewhere, killing things and making some man's life hard. She seems like the type."

  "I could use a woman like that," Eric said. When John looked at him, he threw up his hands. "What? You think I'm an old man and I can't get a hard-on for some hot little piece of ass? She seems like quite a catch."

  "You
would've liked her. Tight jeans, pretty face, nice curves. And she is a ginger."

  "I like redheads."

  John scanned A1A as far as he could see but all was quiet heading south. "I see nothing. No zombies, no movement. But I can't see to the pier."

  "Do you want to move closer?"

  "Not really. I think we stay here, hidden and above everything. We can see for miles on a clear day, right? Besides… wait…"

  "What?"

  John saw movement on the beach. A zombie was dragging itself from the surf. "We have a live one."

  "Someone alive?"

  John snorted. "OK, not a live one in the classic sense. A zombie just washed up and is moving up the beach. We can watch him and see what happens."

  "How exciting," Eric said. "Maybe by lunchtime he'll figure out how to actually get up the dune."

  "We can only hope." John sat down on the beach chair they shared. He looked at his watch, which hadn't worked in months. "I'll bet you it takes him less than two hours to get to A1A."

  "He needs to get both feet on A1A," Eric said.

  John squinted at Eric. "You can't shoot him. That's not fair."

  Eric laughed. "Fine. Damn you. Always seeing my angle. I still think he'll turn south or north instead of hitting the road."

  "We'll see." Both men watched with their binoculars as the zombie tried to walk up the dune but kept tipping over. "This one is even dumber than the rest of them."

  "I wonder where he came from."

  "The ocean."

  Eric laughed. "No kidding? You know what I mean. Is there a boat out there? Did he walk from the Bahamas? Africa?"

  "Maybe he fell into the water in Miami and the Gulfstream carried him here."

  "Is that how it works?" Eric asked.

  "I have no clue. I guess we can't Google it and find out."

  "What do I win when he turns north?"

  "I'm not going to give you a blowjob. Forget it," John said and laughed. "Not again."