The Darkening (A Zombie Awakening)

by Cynthia Melton

“What do we do?” Chalice leaned on his seat and stared through the window. “It doesn’t seem wise to stay here, but driving this back road at night doesn’t seem much safer.”

  “You’re the captain.” Colton cut the head lights, leaving the zombies as eerie shadows.

  “No, I’m not.” She sounded shocked.

  “I’m just the tagalong.” Colton sighed. They couldn’t stay there. The zombies were starting to get nosey and several headed their way. “We have to go. Folks, hold on, I’m backing out on a very long road.”

  A zombie growled at his window. Broken teeth and blackened gums bared and pressed against the glass. Colton shouted and stepped on the gas. The motor home raced down the roadway. He fought to keep control of the wheel.

  “Go left.” Mychal lurched down the area between the table and the front seats. “There’s a tree.”

  Colton fought to serve and scraped the side of the motorhome along the rough park of a pine. Lights came to life in the substation.

  The gate rolled open, and an armored truck roared onto the road. Immediately, bullets riddled the zombies, dropping some and pissing off others. While most of the undead lumbered toward the armored truck, a few stayed behind to pound on the still motor home with enough force to set the vehicle rocking.

  “Crap!” Chalice grabbed her gun and fired out the window, splattering the brains of an undead across the glass and on the front of her shirt.

  Mychal immediately started stabbing again with the skewer. If they kept up this type of pace at slaughtering the monsters, the motor home would soon be covered in zombie guts. Already the smell, a cross between spoiled meat and rotten vegetables, was enough to gag a person.

  Colton grabbed his gun and shot through a slit in his window. Maybe with the other shooters, they could clear the area and have a safe place to spend the night behind a locked gate.

  The truck pulled alongside them. A heavily bearded man yelled through his barely opened window. “Get inside the gate. We’ll cover you.”

  Colton didn’t waste any time following the man’s orders. He set his gun on the floor and pressed the gas pedal, scraping the motor home again against the tree, then roared into the enclosure. After turning off the ignition, he grabbed his rifle and bolted from the vehicle. Chalice and Mychal did the same.

  They could at least cover the retreat of those who had helped them. Raising his rifle to his shoulder, Colton stepped against the fence and pulled the trigger. A zombie fell, a bullet between its eyes. The next one, a little girl in a stained ruffled dress was harder.

  She growled and stuck her skinny, graying arm through the links of the fence. Colton hesitated. This was someone’s little sister once. A child more interested in playing than wandering the world as an undead.

  Chalice didn’t have the same hesitation. She grabbed a sharp stick and shoved it through the zombie’s left eye. The girl fell in a heap of pink fabric and black blood.

  “You can’t stop to think about it.” Chalice left the stick in the zombie and aimed her rifle. “It’ll kill you if you do. Both physically and mentally.”

  She was right. Colton could have made a fatal mistake. Yes, a fence separated him from the zombies, but from the way the fence bowed under the little girl’s pounding, he suspected they possessed an almost inhuman strength when presented with the opportunity to get food. He sighed. She might have made the perfect experiment.

  Hanna screamed.

  Colton turned to see the hem of her shirt clutched in the hands of an old man zombie. Inch by inch, the creature pulled her closer to the fence. Saliva dripped from its chin.

  Before Colton could reach her, Junior dashed from the motor home, clutching one of the axes. With two hard whacks, he chopped the zombie’s hand, freeing Hanna. The younger ones should never have come outside, but this moment of disobedience could have been what saved Hanna’s life. “Get inside.”

  Fifteen minutes later, all the zombies lie dead, and the truck returned to the inside of the enclosure. Colton turned to welcome his saviors.

  9

  “Damn, you’re just a bunch of kids.” The bearded man leaned against his truck.

  “I’m almost eighteen.” Colton squared his shoulders. “Old enough.”

  The man shook his head. “Well, you proved yourself today. I’m Bill Colman. This is Fred Williams and Sarah Harper. We’re all that’s left of our group. We had ten originally. We’ve built a bunker under this abandoned substation. You’re welcome to come rest a spell, but I got to warn you, we’re getting low on food.”

  “We have food.” Chalice stepped forward. “I’m Chalice Hart, sixteen. My brother is Mychal, my sister, Hanna. We found Junior and Sissy about 80 miles back.” She motioned her head at Colton. “He’s Colton Morgan. We’re happy to share what we have.”

  “Can we come inside?” Bill asked, craning his neck to see in the motor home.

  “No, sir.” Colton stepped between him and the vehicle. “We’ll bring the food out to you but we’re not excited about letting strangers into our home.”

  Bill laughed. “Suit yourself, son, but if we wanted your supplies, we would’ve just waited for the zombies to kill you then we could’ve taken it.”

  “True.” Colton stepped aside. He wouldn’t be an ass to the folks who’d risked their necks for them. If they planned on robbing them, there wasn’t much any of them could do.

  The motor home seemed claustrophobic once three full-sized people climbed aboard. Colton took the seat farthest away from their guests, the driver’s seat, and kept his eyes peeled. Especially on the tall, skinny man. Colton didn’t like the way the man watched Chalice.

  She opened and dumped cans of stew into a pot while the younger kids sat and stared at the newcomers. Clearly Chalice felt relief at the presence of adults. Despite his reservation at letting them onboard, Colton had to admit to a degree of relief, too. They might be strangers, but they’d taken care of a large herd of undead that would have quickly overwhelmed the motor home.

  Maybe they’d consider joining the younger group. Wouldn’t there be safety in numbers? Or would a larger group just make them a more visible target?

  Bill glanced in the closet of a bathroom. “Looks like you need to empty your tank. There’s a KOA not too far from here. We could show you in the morning.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Chalice smiled as she stirred. “It’s nice having a toilet but with a bunch of kids, it filled up fast.”

  The man took the liberty of looking in cupboards and under beds. Colton stared him down. “What are you looking for?”

  “Actually, I’m impressed at how prepared you are.” Bill straightened. “How long y’all been on the road together?”

  “About a month.” Colton crossed his arms. What was the guy getting at?

  “I’m thinking if we pool our supplies, we might do all right. We’ve ammunition and little else. You’ve food and little ammunition. It’s time for us to move on. We heard tell there’s a safe zone at the army base in Colorado Springs. Interested?”

  “Nothing closer?” Colton’s shoulders sagged. “I was hoping for Tyndall. We can’t be but a hundred miles from there.”

  “Last I heard, Tyndall was over run three months ago. I reckon Colorado will be the same, but we’ve got to chance it.” Bill took a bowl of stew from Chalice. “The more populated the area, the more zombies, of course. We wouldn’t ride in here with you kids. We could still take the truck.” He grinned. “From the blood splatters on the front of this box, I’d say y’all have seen some action.”

  “Yeah,” Mychal said. “It’s good for running over zombies.”

  “I’m really impressed with you kids. A lot of adults haven’t made it and here you are, sitting pretty with food and water.” Bill perched against the table. Yep, I’m right impressed.”

  Chalice met Colton’s gaze, then looked at Bill. “We appreciate your offer and would be happy for you to join us. But,” She narrowed her eyes. “I take care of the children. Not you.�
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  Chalice woke the next morning and glanced out the motor home window. There was no sign of the three newest to the group but five zombies paced the fence, filling the air with their unearthly moans and growls. No doubt brought on by the previous day’s carnage. Maybe they had a sixth sense about a large number of their own being killed.

  The adults had seemed nice enough last night, especially the woman, Sarah, but Chalice wouldn’t trust them to be alone around the younger kids until she knew them better. Sure, they came to the rescue when they were being overrun last night, but they could have any number of motivations. Plus, feeding them took away an entire meal that could have gone into the kid’s mouths.

  She dropped the thin curtain, a couple of inches too small for the space, back into place. She’d slept in her blood-encrusted clothes since there was little water to be wasted on laundry and a short supply of clothing, not to mention a private place to change. Maybe if she drew the curtain she could have just enough time before the others woke.

  Yanking the curtains closed, the best she could, she disrobed and dropped the smelly clothes on the floor. She grabbed a container of wet wipes and sponged down her skin before dressing in the last clean pair of pants she owned, camouflage cargo pants and a white tank top.

  She turned to pick up the dirty clothes and glanced out the window.

  Fred Williams stood and stared, obviously watching her bathe and dress. The frigg’n pervert.

  She stuffed her pistol into her waistband, tempted to put a bullet in his brain. It was most likely as tainted as the zombies growling outside the fence.

  When she shoved back the privacy curtain, the others were eating dry cereal. Colton held the box of Cheerios out for her. She grabbed a handful and bent to glance back out the window. Fred had disappeared. Hopefully, to tell the others they were ready to leave.

  “We need to let Bill know to stop for gas,” she told Colton.

  “What’s the point?” Hanna spoke up from where she sat at the table, face buried in her hands. “Get gas and drive, drive, drive. It’s only a matter of time before every one of us is zombie food.”

  “I have a theory about that.” Colton passed the cereal box to Mychal. “Think on all the zombies you’ve seen. Some look relatively normal, with minimal signs of decay, while others look like walking corpses. I think their bodies deteriorate over time. Once we settle somewhere, I plan on catching one and keeping it in a cage.”

  “Like a pet?” Chalice crossed her arms. “I think that’s a great idea.” She glanced at the dogs. “We also have to keep the dogs quiet somehow when zombies are around. They bark, and the zombies come.”

  “We need a muzzle,” Mychal said. “I can work on making a band of some sort out of a pair of socks. I can do that while we’re driving today.”

  A knock sounded on the door. Chalice turned to see Sarah.

  “Here’s some extra weapons and ammo.” She stepped inside. “Do you think you could spare us some water for the truck?”

  “Take a bottle a piece.” Chalice pulled three from a cabinet. “We only allow ourselves one a day unless we find water somewhere else.”

  Sarah smiled. “Thanks.”

  When she’d left, Chalice pulled out another handgun. She preferred them to the rifle. Now, Mychal could have the rifle along with his bow and arrow. True to her word, Sarah had supplied them with ammo for their guns. In Chalice’s mind, the water was an insufficient trade. For now. She’d change her mind when water was hard to find.

  “Looks like we’re leaving.” Colton hurried to the driver’s seat.

  Chalice rushed to the passenger seat while Mychal scurried around making sure the doors and windows were latched. “All the way to Colorado, huh?”

  Colton shrugged. “Looks that way, unless we find something sooner.”

  They burst through the fence, sending zombies exploding like watermelons. Body parts flew. A leg bounced off the front window.

  Colton laid on the horn and followed, the motor home bumping over zombies too stupid to move and adding more of the black congealing mess they had for blood to the front bumper.

  It amazed Chalice that the sight no longer sickened her. She thought no more of body parts flying than she did of eating or sleeping. What did that mean? Did she no longer have any value for human life? She looked over her shoulder at the children.

  What if one of them was bitten? Hanna or Mychal? Could she shoot them? She honestly didn’t know. She did know that should she be bitten she would want someone to shoot her. The thought of feeding on humans grossed her out.

  She thought about Colton’s theory of zombies dying over time. What if they cut off the arms and took out the teeth of a zombie? Then they could find any type of enclosure and not have to worry if it broke free. She’d keep her eyes open.

  “You’re the toughest girl I know,” Colton told her, cutting her a sideways glance. “Most girls wouldn’t grab a gun and face down one zombie much less several. I’m glad to have you by my side.”

  Chalice’s face heated. The words of admiration from Colton meant a lot. Not once since they’d met had he ever seemed to falter in what needed doing, except for the little girl yesterday. Knowing that he thought her as tough and capable as himself left her speechless. She gave him a nod and stared out her window, feeling every bit the geek she’d always been.

  What would it feel like for someone to think her pretty rather than tough?

  Someone ran through the trees. They ran with much more coordination than any zombie she’d ever seen. The person stopped and grabbed another person from the forest floor. “Stop. There’s someone out there.” She looked back in the direction the two ran. “And there’re a lot of zombies chasing them.”

  “We shouldn’t stop.”

  “We have to. We can’t not help anyone who needs us. If we make it quick, they’ll be inside before the zombies catch up.” She grabbed her weapons and stood by the door. “Close the door and don’t open it until I’m ready to step inside.”

  “I’ll go with you.” He reached out to stop her.

  “No. Take care of the others. Lock the door. Have Mychal stand watch for when I’m ready to come in.” She took a deep breath and stepped out. “Here!” She waved her arms.

  A man and teenage girl raced toward them. The girl glanced repeatedly over her shoulder, slowing them down. The zombies were quickly gaining ground.

  “Hurry.” Chalice’s heart beat faster. What if they didn’t make it? What if she had to watch a person ripped apart and devoured? Just the thought made her sick.

  The truck with Bill and the others stopped up the road and slowly backed up. Bill sat on the frame of the open window, rifle aimed at the mob chasing the man and girl.

  They reached the motor home, and Chalice pounded on the door for someone to open up. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” The zombie’s groans and growls increased in intensity.

  “No, Mark is out there.” The girl tugged against the man’s hold.

  “Get in.” He shoved her inside and followed.

  Chalice turned. A young man sprinted for them, mere feet from the herd chasing him.

  “Get in.” Mychal grabbed her arm and yanked her inside before slamming the door and locking it. “We can’t help him. It’s too late.”

  “No.” Their new passenger plastered herself to the window.

  Colton started the motor home moving forward. The boy outside raced alongside, pounding his hands against the fiberglass sides. Then, he fell, and the zombies were upon him.

  Chalice wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. The girl screamed, the dogs barked, and tears streamed down her cheeks as an undead ripped into the boy’s throat. Blood gushed from his jugular, splashing the window. Why was Colton driving so slow? They needed to get away. Nobody should watch such a display of violence.

  Despite the gruesomeness of the sight, Chalice walked along the windows, crying as the zombies ripped the boy’s stomach apart and grabbed handfuls of his intest
ines while he was still alive. Steam rose from his entrails. The boy’s screams pierced her ears, shrill and not like anything she’d heard before.

  She had to do something. Anything to halt his suffering. She cracked her window and aimed.

  One shot through the eyes, and the boy stopped screaming. Chalice fell back on the bed as the truck in front of them sped up, and Colton followed.

  Sobs shook Chalice. They’d left someone behind. Maybe they could have gotten him inside, maybe not. Now, they’d never know. Chalice rolled over, hiding her face in a pillow and let the tears flow.

  10

  Chalice didn’t get out of bed until the motor home stopped again. She couldn’t. Not if every waking moment meant fighting for her life.

  Through the window, she spotted an empty gas station. A plastic bag blew across the cracked pavement. The place appeared as if it had been deserted for a very long time. There probably wasn’t any gas left in the tanks, but a few vehicles sat in the bay awaiting repairs that would never happen.

  Their new passengers sat at the motor home’s dinette table, the girl wrapped in the man’s arms. Chalice sighed and introduced everyone.

  “I’m Bruce Whitetower,” the man said. “And this is my daughter, Sadie. Thank you for stopping. A few more minutes and…”

  “The boy?” Chalice’s stomach lurched.

  “My boyfriend.” Sadie swiped long raven hair from her face. “We met him three months ago while hiking through some Podunk town in the middle of nowhere. A zombie tried to bite me, and Max stuck a rebar through its head. Now, he’s dead, too.” Her crying started again.

  “We’re looking for gas, then headed to Colorado. Someone said there was a safe zone there.” Chalice moved to the door.

  “Maybe.” Mr. Whitetower untangled himself from his daughter’s arm and stood by Chalice’s side. “Let me go. I owe you that much for saving us.”

  Chalice smirked. “A wasted effort if you get yourself killed, isn’t it?”

  He grabbed an axe from the counter. “My ancestors are Apache. I taught myself a long time ago how to use one of these. I’ve won competitions. Let me come.”