ZPOC: The Beginning

by Laybourne, Alex

  They parked their cars before the adjoining garage and got out. The street was a long curving one, with this house on the apex of the turn. It afforded them a view, albeit limited, down both arms of the road. The dead milled around in groups, and there were clear signs of life in some of the other houses as evidenced by the twitching curtains.

  “Are you sure we are going to be safe in here?” Julie asked as she helped Abby out of the car.

  “Safer than out there,” Jack replied, looking down the street, where it was impossible not to notice a few lone figures shuffling their way.

  “We’d better hurry up and get inside,” Dwayne spoke, having noticed the same advancements of the dead.

  “They keep a spare key for the back door underneath the birdhouse,” Jack said, opening the fence and letting them all through.

  Abby moved under her own power, stopping by Jack to stare at him. The color was starting to return to her cheeks, and while her eyes still seemed hollow, as if part of her very being had been stripped away, she looked a lot better for it. Abby opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words. Instead, she leaned in and hugged Jack, her tense body relaxing as he put his arms around her in response.

  “We’re going to be safe here, at least until we make our next move,” Jack whispered.

  Abby said nothing, but Jack could feel the hot flow of tears soaking through his shirt.

  The key was exactly where Jack said it would be, inside a small box screwed to the underside of the birdhouse, mounted to the trunk of a nearby tree.

  “That’s a step up from the fake rock trick,” Ronnie smiled, clapping Jack on the back as he walked back to the group, holding the key out before him like some kind of trophy.

  They opened the door and walked inside. Entering through the rear of the property, they lost site of the approaching zeds. Now, as they watched from the living room window, they saw that the creatures’ attention had been taken by something else, and they had each wandered off in their own directions.

  The house was as grand on the inside as it looked from the outside. The living room an open and lush affair with a real fireplace and three comfortable sofas. The kitchen was an open plan space that led into the dining room. Clean countertops and gentle paint schemes made the house feel airy and light, while wide windows caught the sun and added an additional illusion of space to the entire building.

  The upstairs was equally spacious, with three bedrooms, two of which could not have been a more classic example of the ‘guest bedroom’, an enormous master bathroom with separate shower and bath units, and an office-style space, filled with books and a heavy wooden desk that still housed a desktop computer and a full range of stationary supplies.

  “My grandfather made his money in his own business, and after he retired he decided he wanted to become a writer. He published a few books, and they were very good, but he was never in it for the money,” Jack said as they stood in the doorway. It was the final room on the second floor of the house and officially concluded their tour. Jack had made a comment in each room, giving glimpses of his life to the group.

  “If your grandparents were so rich, why did your dad work at the canning factory?” Jared asked, his words harsh, but capturing the question several of them had silently pondered.

  “That’s a whole other story,” Jack said, not fearing the open answers he was giving. “These were my mother’s parents. My birth mother. She died when I was young, and my dad, well, he was kind of an asshole. He cheated on my mom, a lot, and developed a drinking problem. They had this huge argument a year or so after my mom died. I was about six and didn’t know what was happening.” Jack paused, wiping his eyes.

  “Yeah, my old man was a cunt too,” Jared said.

  “My dad was a good man.” Anger brewed in Jack’s voice. “He was a good man who couldn’t deal with his grief. My grandparents knew this and tried to help, even after he refused it. They took care of me, and always gave me a place to come and stay. They supported Dad and helped us with a lot of things over the years. I always intercepted them, arranged it so that he never even knew it had happened. So shut your mouth, because you don’t know anything.”

  Jared stared at Jack, before turning away from the group and storming off. Nobody spoke for a moment, but the silence was too overpowering.

  “I’m hungry,” Abby said, speaking for the first time since the roof of the factory.

  “My gran was a great cook,” Jack said, catching himself, as the emotions raged within him. “Fuck, I miss the world.”

  “You and me both, buddy,” Ronnie said, as he put his arm around Leah and pulled her close. “You and me both.”

  Leaving Jared behind, the group moved back to the kitchen where they raided the expansive pantry cupboard.

  Dwayne found a couple of camping stoves in the garage and a short time later, they were tucking into a feast of lukewarm canned goods, each one seasoned with a wide range of herbs and spices, in an effort to remove the tastelessness of the food.

  Jared joined them, taking a can and skulking off to the living room, where he sat by the window, watching the world go dark.

  An older woman in a badly fitting, brightly colored tracksuit stumbled along the fence, the sweatband that capped off her ensemble had fallen askew on her head, and as a result completely covered one eye, leaving her visually impaired. She paid no attention to the house, as she moved at a pace that probably hadn’t changed much since her previously living self headed out for her fateful power walk.

  The others left him be, choosing to stay in the kitchen, chatting. Jared could hear them, laughing and joking. He didn’t care. Now that they had left the dorm room, the reality of life had returned. It didn’t matter whether the dead were roaming the world, or if it had all been a dream and they were going to wake up and find themselves hungover and late for class. Nobody stayed around Jared for too long, and it was simpler to create the distance himself, rather than wait for them to abandon him, just as he was getting used to having them around.

  Pulling his knife from its sheath, Jared studied it, looking at the faint hint of taint on the blade. He wondered if his old man had had the chance to go looking for it before the dead found him. Not that he knew if his old man would be dead, but the chance of that son of a bitch surviving was unlikely.

  Jared couldn’t think of anybody more deserving to be eaten alive than that prick of a man.

  The knife shook before his eyes, as the tremor in his hands grew worse. Lowering the blade, Jared wiped his eyes, in case anybody came through. Don’t think like that. They will leave you anyway, he thought to himself, wiping away the tears, nonetheless.

  Returning the blade to its sheath, Jared sat back and stared. The world had gone to hell, but for the first time in his life, Jared was free. Free from the man who had dominated him for so long. From the father who didn’t raise him with high fives and praise, but rather with a closed fist and a cold heart.

  Jared was happy the world ended, and while it was nice to have some company, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be on his own again because that’s the way life worked for people like him. That was what he had been taught; the lesson he had learned when his mother walked out on him, leaving him with his abuser. The lesson was further enforced when the courts ruled that his father was a fit and proper guardian for him, forcing him to live with a man who was a monster beneath the surface. A cruel and sadistic human being. Jared thought it oddly fitting that his father could be walking around out there, some mindless beast, his body torn apart and broken.

  He hoped that one day he would find him, and finally end his existence. He could already feel his skin tingle at the mere thought of sliding the man’s own hunting knife through his skull.

  “You okay?” A voice startled Jared, who had found himself so lost in his own thoughts that he forgot his place in the real world.

  Turning around he was shocked to find Abby standing in the room with him, alone and not surroun
ded by the new best friends she had found.

  “What do you want?” Jared snapped, coming down through the haze of memories, to the reality where the screams of his demons were waiting.

  “I know who you are,” Abby said, her voice tiny, scared.

  Jared looked at her and gave a derisive snort. “I doubt that.”

  “I can see through your mask. You’re angry and hate the world, but underneath, you’re scared.” Her words hit home, and Jared felt himself flinch.

  Rolling from the window, he turned to face the young woman.

  “You were more fun when you weren’t talking.” Jared scoffed.

  “You’re a scared little boy, and I know why.” Abby took a step closer to him.

  “Really, bitch, you have no idea,” Jared snarled, but to his surprise, Abby did not back down. If anything, he saw a fire in her eyes that made his skin prickle.

  “I bet it was your father.” She held his gaze, and Jared felt himself quiver. “How bad did he beat you?”

  Jared opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His body froze, and his blood chilled inside his veins.

  “Shut up!” Jared reached out and grabbed Abby by the shoulders, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed.

  “Did you ever cry yourself to sleep at night, hoping he would be too drunk to come to you? Did you ever feel ashamed of hitting your period because it would piss him off so much, and just make his rage boil over?” Abby’s voice rose, and she shrugged out of Jared’s grip. “Did he ever fuck you so hard that your ass bled for days afterward, or beat you so bad you had to go to the hospital?”

  Jared backed up a step, suddenly fearful of the woman standing before him.

  “Did he ever give you a razor blade and give you the choice between sucking his cock or cutting your wrists, and then make you suck him off before he took you to the hospital to have the wounds tended to?” Tears streamed down Abby’s face as she strode back over to Jared, her eyes blazed as they held onto his.

  She was a wild tempest, and as Jared stood there watching her, he felt equally strong urges to both strangle her and embrace her.

  “He raped me, beat me, used me in any way he saw fit. He … he made me sleep on the floor beside his bed, chained up like a dog.” Jared had never told anybody about the full extent of his abuse, not even the shrink he had been forced to go and see. Stuck up bitch that she was.

  “You and I are cut from the same cloth, we’re both damaged, broken even.” Abby spoke with tears in her eyes but a strange defiance in her voice.

  “I thought you were in love with that other girl, the one they took?” Jared said, his words still echoing on his lips when the slap came.

  Abby’s hand moved like lightning, and the sting it left behind caused Jared’s ears to ring.

  “Don’t you talk about her like that. I loved her. That’s the thing. When you get fucked from the age of eight, you kind of get put off at the sight of a man’s cock. Kate was good and kind. She never knew the full truth, but she was all I had. Her family took me in when I ran away from home, and they made sure my old man got locked up for what he did. It was too late for me, but I played along, letting them think I was something they could fix back together again.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean … it’s just, I don’t understand,” Jared stuttered, caught with his mind whirling in a hundred different directions.

  “You will,” Abby said, moving in once more, only this time it was her lips that found Jared’s face. Kissing first the hand print on the side of his face, and then his lips. “I think we can fix each other.”

  “How?” Jared asked, his entire body shaking.

  “We go out there and take what we want, we dish out the punishment to those who need it. There are no laws in this world now, so I say we start making them before someone else does.” Abby grabbed Jared’s hands and squeezed, the power behind her grip surprising. “We hunt down the fuckers who are taking advantage of people like … like Kate, and we fuck them up. The others don’t need to know. We can stay or we can go, either way, they are not like us.”

  “Where did you come from?” Jared stared into Abby’s eyes, his cock hard in his trousers, and his eyes lowering to her breasts whenever he wasn’t watching her speak.

  “I was forged in the same place you were, and I am never going back there again.” Abby was resolved.

  “We will go back, one day, and we will rule the entire fucking place. Burn it down from the inside.” Jared smiled, pulling Abby close to him.

  He shuddered when her hand came to rest on his crotch.

  “I thought …” he began, but her lips silenced him.

  “Rules have changed. This is a new world, and I want to play.” Abby smirked as she dropped to her knees, while the others continued to laugh and chatter from the kitchen.

  Chapter Nine

  The rush came, but from within the confines of their underground bunker, the true extent of it was never known. The sound of the dead battering against the outside rumbled like a strange, distant thunder. Each one of them tuned it out with relative ease.

  The first two days were the hardest, the not knowing, the closeness of their new quarters, not to mention the lack of fresh air.

  The first time someone took a shit, everybody realized the horrifying extent of what they had gotten themselves in for.

  None of them slept well, even James sat up most of the first night, listening to the adults talk. He understood enough of what they were whispering to know they were all scared.

  Even though they were only a few feet below the place they had called home ever since the world went to hell, there was something different about the bunker. It was darker, scarier. Even though they were further away from the dead, the threat they posed felt that much more intense in the dark.

  On the third day, the men drew straws, and Taron was elected to head back up to the top and take a look around.

  “Remember, stay low, and stay quiet. Anybody that’s still out there won’t be expecting you, so use it to your advantage,” Henry instructed as they stood by the ladder that led back up to the shelter.

  “Got it,” Taron said with a smile, his words almost sounding as convincing as the expression he wore.

  “No matter what, you come back down here and we make the next step together. Good or bad,” Henry continued, talking to the man as if he were a child being instructed on how to behave while being let outside for the first time without supervision.

  Taron climbed the ladder, moving one rung at a time. He never looked down, his attention was focused on what lay above them. The bed pushed up with relative ease, and the rest of them watched, holding their breath as he disappeared into the daylight, quickly dropping the bed back into place.

  “Will Taron be all right?” James asked, holding onto his mother’s hand.

  “Of course he will,” Vanessa lied, her mind too distracted to even try to hide the truth.

  James squeezed his mother’s hand tighter. It was cold, but he found comfort in it, nonetheless.

  Henry saw the exchange, and walked over to them, lifting his son from the floor and into his arms.

  “Taron is going to be fine. He’s tougher than any of us, and he knows exactly what to do.” Henry’s words were comforting, and as always, James trusted them without doubt.

  ***

  Taron held his breath as he rose up the ladder, hoping beyond everything that he would at least get out of the hatch and the bed lowered back into position before he met his end. He understood the chance of death was great, and he could accept that, but to know he was also responsible for the death of the others, especially little James, would be too much for him to take.

  The bed moved back into position without making a sound. The shelter was quiet and darker than he expected.

  He knew the place was empty, if not because he was still breathing, but because the air was stale. Even in the few days, they had been gone, the place had adopted the long-lost feel of an abandoned shack. Dust
had settled, everything was as it had been, even the broken glass, which James had dropped as they were bringing the final things down into the bunker.

  Sitting at the table, Taron let out a long sigh. It was only then he realized his hands were shaking. Taking a moment, he looked around. The darkness bothered him, playing on the few nerves he had left that were yet to be frayed by their current situation.

  While nobody had actually spoken about it in the bunker, for fear of upsetting both Vanessa and little James, the thoughts had been there.

  If the government still existed, and the threat was being controlled, bombing a city wouldn’t stop them. Dropping a different kind of bomb just might.

  “No, I’d be dead already if that had happened,” Taron said, giving voice to the thoughts swirling inside his mind.

  “Then why is it so dark?” he asked himself, still talking aloud.

  “Only one way to find out,” he told himself in a stern voice. Taron laughed, fully aware that he was starting to crack, to lose the one thing he always feared losing the most.

  Moving slowly, he pulled the machete free from the sheath on his hip. The weapon was more cumbersome than any blade he was used to using, and heavy too. Hector had been insistent on him taking it, and Taron didn’t want to argue with the man. Adrenaline pumped through Taron’s veins as she prepared himself for whatever was waiting beyond the door. He reached for the handle and adjusted his grip on the weapon one last time. With a silent prayer on his lips, Taron opened the door and stepped outside. He knew he had promised to return with word of their situation immediately, but there were too many questions that needed to be answered. Too many risks for the others to take. He wouldn’t let them die because he was too scared to take a real look around.

  The day was cool, and the landscape just as dark as he expected. As if on cue, the first fat drops of rain fell. The cool water felt great on his skin, and as the heavens opened, Taron welcome it.