Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary

by Scott, Joshua Jared

The stranger spun and fired a round into the face of Laura’s initial attacker at near point blank range. The naked body, all but decapitated, crumpled to the ground.

  “Bizarre.” He began to reload his weapon, taking shells from his pocket. “What’s your name?”

  “What?”

  “Your name?”

  “Oh, it’s Laura Johnson.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He extended an arm. “I’m Justin.”

  Laura shook his hand, more out of habit than any sense of politeness. “What’s happening? What was wrong with them?”

  “No idea. I heard some screams and came outside and saw some of them rip a little kid apart.” His craggy face held a grim look. “I tried to get there but was too late. They tore the girl’s arm loose, right from the body, and started taking bites out of her.”

  “That’s enough.” She held a hand up, bile rising within her stomach. “I don’t want to hear.”

  “Well, darlin,” began Justin, as he gently tapped her shoulder and guided her to the side, “you are going to be hearing and seeing a whole lot more since they’re coming for us. Slow. Can barely even walk straight.”

  “Are you going to shoot them? Now, please.” Laura paused, unable to believe she just asked someone to commit murder.

  “Hang on there darlin. They’re still far off, and I want to take a good look first.”

  “Stop calling me darlin! My name is Laura.”

  “All right Laura.” Justin was oozing rustic charm, and it didn’t seem he was aware of it. “I don’t think these people are right.”

  “They attacked me. You said they killed a little girl. They get shot and don’t die, and you say they aren’t right! What’s wrong with you!” Her face turned red.

  “Calm down darlin and try to breathe. Now, I just don’t want to be shooting folk willy nilly. If they get up close I’ll protect us. Don’t worry about that.”

  “I don’t… There!”

  A door opened, and one of her neighbors shambled out into the early morning sunshine. There was blood on his face. A moment later, his wife followed. There were scratches across her cheek and a pair of large bite marks on her throat.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Darlin, I’m hoping very much that the fellow up above has nothing to do with this.” Justin lifted his shotgun and stepped forward. In short order he put the couple down. They were clearly the same as the others he’d killed.

  “No challenge at all. They come right to the gun.”

  “You weren’t grabbed from behind, were you?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, can’t say that happened to me. Came close, until you warned me of the naked fellow. We’ll have to keep an eye out and pay attention.”

  “Do you have lots of bullets?” she asked. More and more of the things were appearing, with many heading straight for them.

  “Not bullets darlin.”

  “I said to call me Laura.”

  Justin bowed his head, just a tad. “My apologies. It’s difficult, you see, not calling a pretty little thing like you darlin.”

  She didn’t know what to say, at first. “Wait, are you trying to be nice because you’re out of bullets and we’re about to die?”

  He laughed. “I’m just being me, and I have no bullets, which is just as well since this shotgun doesn’t fire them. Now, as to shells, I have quite a few, several hundred in my truck over there.”

  There were screams, and both swiveled toward the sound.

  “They are not getting another kid,” snarled Justin, his voice going hard. He strode forward to intercept the zombies that were pursuing the teenager. “Over here boy.”

  The youth darted for him, and as soon as he was past, Justin began to drop the dead around them.

  “We,” gasped the boy, breathing as hard as Laura had been, “need to get inside. They’re everywhere.”

  “More likely to see an angel in a strip club than get me to head indoors right now.”

  “What?” Laura couldn’t believe this.

  “Come now darlin, you really want to be cornered by those things. Better to stay out here where you can see them coming and deal with them easy enough, but I think we should relocate to my truck. It’s in the intersection, and we’ll have more choices.”

  That made sense, in a terrifying, barely understandable manner, and Laura wasn’t about to leave this very capable man. He might be annoying, but he was also in far better control of his emotions than she. So, she allowed him to lead her and the kid, Tommy, back to his pickup where the two of them climbed into the bed so they’d be out of the way.

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for more survivors to gather about them, and by nine o’clock they had a half dozen in or around the pickup. The key addition was Roger. Justin apparently knew him since he greeted the man by name. Roger lacked Justin’s charming personality however. He just nodded once and drew a pistol from a worn leather holster and waited. Apparently feeling secure, Justin set his shotgun down on the hood of his truck and rubbed his shoulder.

  “Justin,” began Laura, “what are you doing?”

  “Nothing darlin, nothing at all.”

  “Shouldn’t you be holding your gun or something?” The panic was again rising within her, and Laura vaguely recognized how close she was to losing all semblance of self-control.

  “Because darlin, Roger is here. You wouldn’t know it, seeing how he drove up in a Volvo, but he’s one of the best marksmen I ever met. We’ve rattled off thousands and thousands of rounds at the range together, and Roger’s won more than one competition, several dozen at last count.”

  Almost as if he wanted to prove the statement, Roger opened fire, one handed, at a distance of nearly fifty yards. He killed all the zombies that approached. None took more than a single shot.

  “Shit,” said Tommy, softly and to himself.

  “Watch your language kid,” snapped Laura.

  “But I…”

  “Quiet.” She turned her attention back to Justin. “You sure he’s okay without you helping?”

  “Roger, you need any help?”

  The man shook his head.

  “All’s good darlin.”

  “My name… Oh, never you mind.” She looked over at the newcomer. “Roger, are you sure?”

  He did not respond, but he did wave for some people to head toward them.

  “Roger can’t talk,” explained Justin. “Born that way. Good guy, though a bit reserved.” He looked over at his friend. “Let me know when shooting your neighbors starts getting to you, and I’ll take over.”

  “How can you act like this?” sobbed a woman. Laura didn’t know her.

  “I’ve decided that these aren’t people anymore. Demons have gotten into them. At least, I sure hope that’s the case. Don’t much like the alternative.”

  * * *

  They spent the first night in Roger’s house – he lived in the neighborhood that would later become the center of the survivors’ world – with Roger and Justin taking turns sitting up on the roof, so they could keep an eye out. For her part, Laura spent much of her time comforting others. She wasn’t a caregiver by trade or personality, but it seemed to calm her own nerves. They had no idea how many others were alive in the town – hundreds were dead; no doubt about that – or how many zombies were still around. Remaining emotionally grounded was essential.

  And they now knew the infected were indeed zombies. While Justin and Roger created the safe haven in the intersection, others had caught the news and heard enough to get a rough idea of what was happening. One of these was Edwin who had gathered a second group of survivors and herded them into the town hall, which was easily secured. A third bunch had been found that afternoon hiding in a drug store.

  All three bands quickly united under Edwin’s leadership. He was known and well liked by nearly everyone, and no one had complained to his taking charge. Justin outright said he preferred acting to thinking and planning, and a whole lot of planning was going to be necess
ary in the days to come.

  * * *

  “Justin,” asked Edwin, “can you and Laura check out the supermarket? Make sure it’s clear and that all the doors are locked. It has a generator backup system, so the food will keep for a while, but turn off all the lights to save on that. We’ll be needing those supplies, and I’d like to keep as much of it fresh as we can.”

  “Sure thing,” replied Justin amiably.

  Laura nodded. She didn’t like leaving the relative safety of the group, but Justin had proven himself more than capable the day before.

  “Roger,” continued the town’s former mayor – the current mayor did not survive the change – “take a few others and keep on getting rid of the zombies. We’ll use the dump truck and load the bodies into that. We can bury them a few miles out later.”

  The mute nodded his assent and hurried off.

  “Come along darlin.” Justin plopped his cowboy hat atop Laura’s head. “Keep the sun out of your pretty eyes.”

  “I’m going to either kiss you or kick you, possibly both.”

  He laughed as he led the way to the grocery store. “I suppose I can tolerate either one, but let’s keep an eye out now. Tell me if you spot any of them things.”

  She was doing just that, with a great deal of paranoia driving her actions.

  “Not as many today,” he observed.

  “You and Roger shot them all.”

  “Yeah, that was distasteful, much more so after the moment passed and I had time to think on it.”

  She patted his arm. “You did right. They would’ve killed all of us.”

  He smiled down at her. “You’re a good woman darlin.”

  Laura laughed. “I don’t know about that. I’m lazy. I’m fat. I work at a truck stop. And don’t tell me I’m not fat. I hate liars.”

  “You might be a tad overweight,” he said slowly, “but running for your life is sure to be good exercise. You’ll be fitter than an aerobics instructor in a few days.”

  “Very funny.” She shrugged. “Maybe you can find me some carrots. I need to eat healthier anyway.”

  * * *

  The grocery store was brightly lit and apparently empty. Even so, they entered cautiously. Laura had no gun of her own and didn’t really want one. She’d never been comfortable with weapons, and while she understood this was not conducive to staying alive, the woman simply couldn’t bring herself to take one. Still, she was more than ready to assist others however she could.

  “Nothing here,” he observed, glancing down the aisle where the spare shopping carts were stored. Let’s check the offices first.”

  Those were right inside the entrance. The doors were unlocked and the rooms empty, although there was some blood on the floor. The locker room and employee restrooms were likewise devoid of people.

  “I don’t think anything’s in here,” whispered Laura.

  The pair began heading for the rear, toward the storage rooms and butcher’s shop. They could just make out the soft hum of the generator.

  “I think any that were inside already went out to the streets darlin. That seemed to be the general pattern.”

  They passed the produce aisle, and Justin took a short detour so he could give Laura a bundle of carrots. She put all but one back. The piece she kept, she began to munch on.

  “We should come back later and get rid of the ice cream and things like that. The generator won’t last too long, and those will melt right away, as soon as it turns off.”

  “I’m sure Edwin will move the generator before it runs out of gas,” replied Justin. “They’ll probably set it up in the town hall. Plug normal refrigerators and freezers into it, and you can keep some basics fresh far longer than if you let it burn through gas trying to keep all this powered up. Bound to be other generators in the town as well, though those’ll likely be small personal ones.”

  “That makes sense. How long do you think it’ll be before we’re back and moving it?”

  “I’d say a few hours. We check it now while the others gather up the living. Then when we have more people handy we can move it and the food we need more easily. Of course, I could be wrong on this. Maybe Edwin isn’t planning on taking it at all.”

  “Well,” said Laura, “if not, you need to suggest it to him. It’s a good idea.”

  “In that case darlin, you make the suggestion. I would…”

  Justin screamed and dropped his shotgun. Spinning, Laura spotted the zombie, a child no more than six or seven that had clamped its teeth around his leg, biting through the fabric of his khakis into the soft area behind the knee.

  “Damn monster!”

  He lashed out with a hand striking the zombie in the side of the head. The thing rocked back with the blow but didn’t lose its grip. Laura then jumped forward and grabbed the long ponytail. A solid jerk pulled the little girl away from Justin.

  “Scoot,” he ordered, through clenched teeth.

  Pulling a pistol from his belt, Justin shot the zombie in the forehead. The bullet pierced the skull and blasted out the back, spraying gore across the white tile floor.

  “Damn, that hurts.”

  “Let me see.” Laura pushed his hands away and lifted the pant leg. “Not too bad. You’re bleeding, but that’s about it.”

  “Do you think their bites are infectious?” he asked. “I remember that movie, Night of the Living Dead, and these are zombies after all.” He did not sound hopeful or confident.

  Laura hesitated. “That was television. This is real. We… We just need to get you back and bandaged up. Can’t believe it got past us.”

  “Not your fault.” He pointed at the gap between some displays. “Right through there. I never even thought to look.”

  With her help, he hobbled over to the pharmacy section.

  * * *

  Laura was crying when she related what happened next. Justin became sick almost immediately, and a nasty infection developed. This grew steadily worse until it appeared gangrene, or something similar, had set in. The skin around the wound began to stink as it shriveled and died. They pumped Justin full of pain killers, as much as they dared, but those did little to alleviate his suffering. There was no doctor, not even a nurse or pharmacist, available, and no one knew enough about other medicines to try any. They might have made the attempt to treat him regardless, except Justin was adamant that he was dying and didn’t want anything else wasted on him.

  Three days after being bitten, he expired. Seven minutes later he rose again, and his friend Roger put the zombie down for good. Laura, who had never been religious, said a silent prayer over his grave.

  Laura also informed us that those who died without being bitten did not reanimate, matching Edwin’s statements. There had been two suicides in the first week. A man hung himself and was found several hours later, cold and still. There was also a woman who overdosed on her heart medication, swallowing everything in the bottle. She was found while still alive but didn’t last long. Edwin had her watched for nearly six hours before she was taken off and buried.

  One other piece of information Laura provided was that zombies are weaker than when they were alive. She had wrestled with a zombie that first morning, and, based on its size, the thing should have been stronger. Several others in the town had similar experiences. The consensus, with no science or research to back it up, was that the muscles continued to operate but not as effectively.

  Chapter III

  We left the survivors in Anadarko, Oklahoma on the morning of the ninth day without seeing Edwin, Laura, or any of the others we’d come to know during our brief stay, but Briana did wave goodbye to a few kids whom we passed on our way out. They were playing under the watchful eye of several heavily armed adults. Hopefully my predictions would prove wrong, and this tiny settlement would somehow hang on.

  The next few days were pretty dull. We took a series of back roads heading west through Oklahoma until we re-entered Texas, on the far north end of its panhandle. This should have taken on
ly a few hours, but the roads turned out to be worse than expected. To begin with, there were far more wrecks and abandoned vehicles than you’d expect in such an empty, isolated region. I have no idea where they came from or where the people were going, but many had run out of gas, making our own refueling more difficult. We found no trace of the stranded motorists.

  Adding to the confusion was the extensive road construction. Huge sections had been torn up by road crews just before it all began, and in some cases the construction equipment was actually blocking the remaining lanes. We stopped briefly to check out a bulldozer, but neither of us could get it to work – the intention had been to push some obstructions to the side. I’ll also point out that if anyone feels the need to stock up on orange road cones, then this is the place to go.

  Between these two problems, we spent nearly more time off road than on. Fortunately, I have, as I’ve already stated, a 4X4 trail rated Jeep Wrangler. The terrain was mostly flat with few trees, which made locating safe routes relatively easy. I shudder to think what it would be like in the mountains if the roads were completely blocked. Actually, I know the answer to that. It’s to turn around and go back the way you came.

  We only encountered one other group of survivors during this stretch of our journey, a band of six. We told them about Edwin and indicated the location on their map. They said they would check it out on their way to Louisiana. A few had family down south and wanted to find them. The odds of their loved ones being alive, much less okay, were slim, very slim since they lived in the middle of Baton Rouge, but there was always a chance. Briana and I wished them luck.

  I also spent some time teaching Briana how to properly use the 9mm Edwin had so generously given us, to supplement the quick lessons and explanations I’d previously offered. Then I had her fire off a few rounds at some empty cans. Her aim was acceptable considering her inexperience. My tolerance for Briana whining about the lingering smell of gunpowder on her clothing, not so much.