The Darkening (A Zombie Awakening)

by Cynthia Melton

  THE DARKENING

  A Zombie Awakening Novel

  Book One

  By Cynthia Melton

  Copyright 2012

  Written and Published by: Cynthia Hickey

  Cover Art: Cynthia Hickey

  Photographer:Dmitriy Tereshchenko

  From Russian Federation 123rf.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  To my son, Mychal, who is the inspiration for the character of the same name, and to my wonderful grandkids who inspired me to write a YA novel:

  Eddy, Alyssah, Faith, Caleb, and Trinity.

  Enjoy! Nana loves you.

  Chapter 1

  June

  “My fellow Americans. It is with a heavy heart that I inform you the mission to blow up the meteor hurtling toward Earth was unsuccessful.” The president looked to have aged ten years in the last week. Chalice Hart held her breath and met her mother’s horrified expression over her younger sister Hanna’s head. Her brother, Mychal, clutched a navy throw pillow to his chest and kept his gaze glued on the television.

  “Although the target was hit, it was not obliterated as we had hoped. Instead, we now have multiple meteors showering down on us. Meteors will shower Earth beginning at 5 p.m. tomorrow evening Eastern Standard Time. They will range in size from a golf ball to a school bus. Some coastal towns will cease to exist as tsunamis’ wipe them from our continent. I urge you, my friends, if you did not heed earlier warnings to prepare, to flee these areas immediately and head inland as soon as possible. Los Angles, New Orleans, New York, and others will be under water.

  “These meteors may strike government facilities which will unleash diseases we’ve only dreamed about in our nightmares. Find a safe place and stay there. May God be with us all.”

  “Mom?” Tears welled in Chalice’s eyes. Her skin prickled. They’d known the chance of a meteor strike, but what did he mean about plagues? What kind of work did the government do in secret?

  Her mother, Claire, wrapped an arm around her. “We’re prepared, sweetie. The pantry and root cellar are stocked with food and water. Living in these Ozark hills, we’re safe from the ocean, volcanoes, and earthquakes.”

  “But not the meteors themselves,” Mychal explained. “They can hit everywhere. And what if a plague is released? An airborne one? It’ll reach in a few months.”

  “Don’t scare your sisters.” Mom pulled Hanna tighter to her and brushed Chalice’s hair from her face. “We’ll be okay. Come on. There’s a lot of work to be done today. We’ve gone over the drill. Everyone knows what to do.”

  For six months, Chalice had ridiculed her mother for preparing for, and believing in, the worst. Most people she knew thought the astronauts would do what they’d set out to. Now, the unthinkable had happened. And Chalice had done the one thing her mother had asked her not to; told others they were stockpiling. Some of the boys from school laughed and said they knew where to go when doomsday hit.

  Mychal ran to grab the backpacks from the closet under the stairs. Hanna rushed to put plugs in all the sinks and bathtubs and fill them with water. It was Chalice’s responsibility to pack boxes with the foodstuffs from the pantry and take them to the root cellar behind the barn. Not that it would do any good if they were stuck in the cellar. While they ran around accomplishing their assigned tasks, her mother would worry about clothing and weapons.

  But Chalice couldn’t move. Cement coated her arms and legs. Her blood ran with liquid fire as guilt sped through her. She needed to confess. “Mom, I told people you were stocking food.”

  “Define people.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed.

  Chalice swallowed past the mountain in her throat. “Um, Angie, Barbie, the Baker brothers.”

  “Is there anyone you didn’t tell?” Mom’s face paled. “Chalice, when something of this magnitude happens, it brings out the worst in folks. Everyone in these hills owns at least one gun. What were you thinking? They can take our food and medical supplies. Everything I’ve spent my paychecks on each month.”

  “I didn’t think it would really happen! Scientists would have told us if the meteor was going to hit here, right?” Chalice cried in earnest now. Her throat burned, and she grabbed a napkin to wipe her nose.

  “Not if they wanted to avoid a panic,” Mychal said. “If they discovered they couldn’t do anything, they might have offered to keep the news to themselves. Can you see how crazy people would’ve been over the last few months? I mean, if you think about it, and you knew a meteor would strike for sure, what could you do, really? Nah,” he grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “I’d rather be left in the dark and not know.”

  Chalice nodded. She’d royally messed up. Her mother expelled a deep breath and stormed from the room.

  Grabbing a cardboard box, Chalice began to empty the pantry. Cans of tuna, packets of dried potatoes, jars of pickles, powdered milk, cereal; her mother had thought of everything. Even vitamins and baby wipes.

  First box full, she hefted it in her arms and headed to the cellar. Mychal had thoughtfully propped it open with a rock.

  Inside, Chalice set the box on a rickety wooden table and added the box’s contents to the canned vegetables already on the shelves. Two bunk beds lined the walls. Water jugs filled the corners of the room. A chemical toilet hid behind a hung shower curtain. A radio and batteries took center stage on the table. Two rifles lay in their racks above a couple of lawn chairs with boxes of shells stacked beneath them. Her brother’s throwing knives were in a can on the table.

  She slumped into a chair. This couldn’t be happening! This only happened in the movies, or books.

  Mom entered the room and dropped blankets on the beds. “Don’t worry. I’ll install a lock on the cellar door this evening. We’ll be fine. We’ll leave a few items in the house and make it look like we left town.” She cupped Chalice’s cheeks with her warm hands. “I know you didn’t mean any harm.”

  Chalice nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  Mom patted her on the shoulder. “No biggie. Once you finish the pantry, help me with the clothes, okay? And have Mychal carry in the bags of dog food. Can’t have Lady going hungry, can we?”

  “What about the horses?”

  “We’ll give ‘em plenty of hay and water, then they’ll have to fend for themselves.”

  “What if we don’t get hit?” Hope leaped in Chalice’s heart. It could happen. The president’s message could be an exaggeration, right?

  “Then we’ll thank God.”

  “Is this the end of the world?”

  “No. Just the world as we know it.” Mom gave a sad smile and left, leaving a trail of the vanilla scent she wore wafting in the air behind her.

  Chalice emptied out the pantry and cupboards. When things no longer fit on the cellar shelves, she stacked the boxes underneath. The walls closed in on her, made worse by piles of supplies.

  Hanna carried an armload of board games. “How long will we have to stay down here? It’s getting really crowded.”

  Chalice shrugged. “As long as it takes.” As long as what takes? The world to go back to normal, people to settle down and not try to steal and murder, some mysterious plague to run its course? Obviously Mom anticipated them staying underground for months.

  Life wasn’t fair. Dad died two years ago, and they’d worked harder than ever to make ends meet. Why? For everything they worked for to be destroyed?

  She climbed the stairs and stared at the sky. Peaceful and blue. No clouds in
sight. It was hard to believe that this time tomorrow the sky would be filled with streaks of fire and the world cast into months of dusk. She wouldn’t be able to watch the show, though. Nope, she’d be safe underground like a gopher.

  ###

  Colton Morgan turned off the television and glanced out the window to the patio. His telescope took place of honor. He’d known all along they wouldn’t be able to divert a meteor the size of Rhode Island. It was pure conceit to think otherwise.

  That’s why the wooden chest under his bed was full of ammo for his rifle and two thick medical journals he’d stolen from the library. He’d felt a twinge of guilt, but after tomorrow, nobody would care.. He’d snuck it all there two days ago, right under the noses of his foster parents. Not that they paid much attention to what he did anyway. They were too busy stocking up on booze and cigarettes. But if his caseworker found out, there’d be hell to pay.

  In his closet, he’d managed to sneak a couple backpacks of food, but that had been harder. Taking the key to the lock on the pantry was near impossible, considering his foster mother kept it on a spiraled key chain around her wrist. But one night, she’d forgotten.

  Other times, he’d managed to take a can here and there from the diner. He’d be all right for a couple of weeks. If, and it was a big if, the sky ended up falling like everyone said it would. If not, he’d return what he’d taken.

  Finally. Nine o’clock. Colton grabbed his backpack from a hook on the wall, and dashed out the door. He’d like to snatch a few more things before the morning. A can opener, matches, that sort of stuff. The essentials needed for camping.

  He unlocked his bicycle from the garage and pedaled toward town as fast as he could, dodging cars, sprinting people, and a world gone mad. If things were coming to a head tomorrow, he had a lot to do. He needed to hide the cartons of cigarettes he’d had somebody buy for him. They’d be like gold if humanity fell apart. How could he get his hands on some liquer?

  A small mom-and-pop drug store sat off the beaten path. Colton hopped off his bike and wheeled it through the open doors. A few patrons pushed full shopping carts to the register.

  Colton swung off his backpack and tossed in medicines and first aid supplies. Since he planned on spending an indeterminate amount of time in a cave he’d found outside of town, he planned on being prepared for anything that could harm him.

  An elderly lady shoved him out of the way and grabbed two bottles of NyQuil and some aspirin. Colton shrugged and moved to the antibiotic cream and bandages. He eyed the pharmacy counter. He’d love to get his hands on some real meds. He spotted the pharmacist.

  “Mr. Harper!” Colton shoved his way past several people. “Any way I can get back there and stock up on some things?”

  Mr. Harper cocked his head. “I’ll lose my job. Get arrested too.”

  “Come on. It’s not like anyone’s going to be around past tomorrow.” Colton grinned. “I promise not to say a word. Wouldn’t you rather I had some of it than crooks stealing it after the lights go out?”

  “You’ve got a point there.” Mr. Harper pressed a button and Colton scooted behind the counter. “Don’t take anything to get yourself high. You’ll need your wits about you.”

  “I’m only after antibiotics. You can watch me if you want.” He filled as many empty pill bottles as he could find, adding a couple full of pain pills and prescription strength ibuprofen. He fished fifty dollars out of his pocket. “Here. This will cover some of the cost. I’m not going to need the money anyway.” Colton patted Mr. Harper on the back, then vaulted over the counter. By then, a crowd surged toward the pharmacy tech, intent on getting drugs of their own.

  Colton dashed to his bike and pedaled away before someone tried to snatch his pack. A man tried to grab his bike. He thrust out a leg and knocked the stranger to the asphalt. His thighs burned as he increased his speed and flew around the corner and back home.

  Usually, his foster parents were already snoring by nine p.m. or passed out in front of the TV. Not tonight. The last night the Earth would be as sunny, as beautiful, the stars as bright, as they were used to. He fished his key from the front pocket of his jeans and opened the door. He wanted to move the last of his things under the cover of darkness.

  So much for having his heart set on being a doctor someday. Oh, well, if anybody knew how life threw curve balls, it was Colton Morgan.

  “Colton!”

  “Yes, Mom?” He hated calling Mrs. Forrest mom. She wasn’t his mother and never could take the place of the woman who’d died of pneumonia two years before. As to his birth mother, well, he hadn’t a clue who she was or where she was.

  “Dad and I are going to fill up the gas tank, just in case, a some containers while we’re at it.” She walked past him, grabbed her purse, and blew a cloud of cigarette smoke in his face.

  He grimaced and turned away. Perfect. They’d be gone a couple of hours at least. By midnight, true to their nature, his foster parents were passed out drunk in front of the TV, and Colton had added another case of bottled water to his stockpile, written a note saying ‘thanks for taking me in, but I’ll be on my way’ note, and moved everything to his cave. He propped his bike against the dirt wall, rolled out his sleeping bag, and waited for the world to end.

  Chapter 2

  Chalice pitched the last fork of hay to the horses and glanced to where Mychal barged through the backdoor of the house. She checked her watch for the hundredth time that day. Two hours until the fear in her heart burst free and shook her world on its axle. For the thousandth time, she prayed that somehow the scientists were wrong and disaster would be averted. She wiped her forearm across her face to clear the sweat from her eyes.

  Hanging in her closet was a royal blue dress, shorter in the front and trailing in the back. Her dream prom dress. Now, she’d never get to wear it or dance with the handsome senior, Mark.

  A whistle pierced the sky. Then a flash of light. Heaven decided to rain early. Chalice dropped the pitchfork, yanked her sister from under the tree where she read a book about vampires, and raced for the cellar. “Mom! Mychal! It’s here.”

  “Coming.” Mychal sprinted toward her, his arms loaded with flashlights and batteries. “Mom’s coming in a minute.”

  Chalice nodded as he and Hanna scooted down the stairs and into the dim pit they’d call home for a good long while. Lady, their dog, yelped and scooted past them.

  A yellow pine tree near the house burst into flame, then the roof of the house caught fire.

  “Mom.” Chalice turned.

  More fire pebbles dotted the ground around them. Chalice jumped back and screamed as one exploded between her and the house. Mychal tried to push past her, and she shoved him back. “Stay down there.” She stared at the house and willed her mother to emerge as more missiles fell.

  Mom ran from the house, ducking as a meteorite landed inches from her feet. Then another spark caught the hem of her dress on fire. She beat the flames with her hands. “Get in the cellar and close the door.”

  Chalice shook her head. She couldn’t leave her.

  She took a step farther on the lawn. Another fireball struck her mother in the back, knocking her to her knees. She screamed and struggled to her feet before running toward Chalice with her arms outstretched. She resembled a whirling inferno. With a mighty lunge, she grasped Chalice’s arm then tossed her into the cellar. Her touch seared Chalice’s skin.

  “For once in your life, do as you’re told.” She slammed the door. Soon, her screams increased, then died, leaving Chalice’s heart chilled.

  She crawled, sobs racking her body, and slid the lock into place. Like a crab she scuttled backward and wrapped her arms around her stomach while the sky fell in thundering slabs around them. The ground over their head vibrated.

  “Where’s Mom?” Hanna scooted next to her.

  “She’s not coming, is she?” Mychal fell onto the bed. “She’s dead. We’re alone.”

  Chalice shuddered. They were alone. The thr
ee of them shut into a growing darkness. And her last act had been one of disobedience. But how could she have scattered like a frightened mouse when her mother raced toward her with brimstone falling around her? Hiding in the cellar wouldn’t have saved her mother’s life. “Light the lamp, Mychal, please.” She couldn’t bear the dark. Not yet.

  The ground around their sanctuary shook. Blasts exploded, and they clapped their hands over their ears. Grey light, shattered by flashes of fire, pierced the tiny window in the door. Chalice grabbed the cloth of black fabric their mother had set aside as a curtain and moved with wooden steps to the door. Her heart pounded with the force of the raining rocks outside.

  Their shelter under a small hill wouldn’t survive a direct hit. Would it even survive the smaller ones dotting the landscape? A tornado was nothing compared to what she witnessed going on outside.

  Black clouds, streaked with flaming balls of orange swirled in the sky. Dust, kicked up from the ground, rose to further block her view. What if someone came tomorrow, or next week? Would they be able to tell Chalice and the others were down here? She glanced at the curtain in her hand. “Mychal, is that black paint still down here from when you painted your bike?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Paint this window. I don’t want anyone to know we’re here. Paint will work better than fabric.” As the oldest, she needed to take charge. It was up to her to care for the others, now that their mother was gone.

  “Then how will we know when we can leave?” His voice trembled. “We’ll be in the dark all day. We can’t waste the oil and candles.”

  “We’ll leave in a month. No sooner.” Chalice dried her eyes on her sleeve, avoiding the burn marks in the shape of her mother’s fingers. “Mom died making sure we were okay. We’ll stay until no one knows we’re left here.” Then they’d emerge into what was left of their world.

  Chalice made her way to her bunk and drew her brother and sister close as they let the tears flow in earnest.