Z1N1: The Zombie Pandemic: 2012 Was Just the Beginning

by Mitchell Layne Cook

  Barry and Corbin quickly discussed a plan as daylight waned. Corbin mentioned the three stores that he had seen in the tour guide. Barry knew the area well and offered to lead them to the stores, but he quickly informed Corbin that the stores on Central and Grand had been demolished during the riots – only the clothing store on their original list of places to go might still be viable. A decision was made to round up what supplies they could from that store and then make their way to an old hotel to wait out the storm. Barry and his crew entered their van and pulled out of the lot. Corbin, Kara and James entered the Impala.

  “We will follow them,” Corbin said. “They know the area. I think those guys may have grown up here.” Corbin started up the finicky V8 engine and entered the main highway a good distance behind the van, but not too far back; he didn’t want to lose them in the limited visibility. After about twenty minutes of driving (which equated to only about two miles), the van pulled off onto Spring Street where a clothing store waited anxiously for the first shoppers it had seen in more than six months.

  The maroon van skidded sideways across the parking lot and onto the sidewalk running around the small store. Corbin eased the Impala slowly into the parking area and stopped the vehicle a few yards from the van. Booger jumped out of the driver’s side of the van, without shutting off the engine, obviously ecstatic by his driving finesse…

  “Holy shit, did y’all just see that?” Booger inspected the gouge marks in the icy snow mixture on the ground. He walked around the front of the van to see how close he was to the wall; the van had stopped mere inches from smashing into the brick structure. Barry glared angrily through the windshield at his friend. He was unable to open the passenger side door, so he quickly climbed across the seats shutting off the engine on his way out of the van.

  James, Kara and Corbin exited the Impala. Nikki stayed behind with baby Megan. It was always a delicate balance on how to proceed in the new world with the baby. Was she safer staying in the car? That meant splitting up the group whenever it came time to investigate new areas. Was she safer coming out of the car? The second choice would keep the whole group together but could potentially endanger the baby. Most of the time over the past few months, the group would choose option one - split up and clear the inside of wherever they were going. When it was determined the area was safe, whoever was watching Megan would bring her out of the car. Usually Nikki would stay behind with her baby. This pleased Corbin for the most part because he felt it kept his loved ones safer.

  “This is it,” Barry said as the three passengers from the Impala approached the van.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Rodney said.

  James heard the man’s voice for the first time and knew for sure now that he already hated the man. Rodney’s somewhat effeminate voice instantly infuriated James; the skinny man sounded like a snotty bitch. James could tell Rodney was a whiner, a user and most likely a manipulator. James could read people very well. If he had to bet on it, he would have guessed that Rodney was a used car salesman or something very similar.

  “Rodney,” Barry began. “Stay out here and watch for trouble.”

  “Why do I have to stay out here? I hate this weather. I’ll die of pneumonia or some shit!”

  “Good,” Booger said as he walked to the front door of the store.

  “Ten minutes tops, guys. We are going in to find some clothing and then we are off to the hotel.” Barry didn’t show it, but he was becoming increasingly nervous that his two imbecile partners would be unable to hold it together long enough to get what they wanted or needed from their new acquaintances. Barry had already devised a plan that in two day’s time, he and his partners would have all of the other people’s supplies and maybe their women too.

  “I’ll stay out here with Rodney,” Corbin volunteered.

  Kara handed out a second flashlight to Barry. James, Kara, Barry and Booger entered the dark store. It reeked of moldy fabrics and wet dog hair. The group moved slowly through the cluttered store surprised that anything was left on the racks after the rioters had bull rushed the place. Each person grabbed a few items here and there and stuffed them into a large duffle bag that Barry had brought with him. They would split up the items later once they reached the hotel and settled in for the evening.

  The group worked together as they collected salvageable clothing, but soon Booger’s ADHD got the better of him. He meandered slightly away from the group towards the checkout counter. Behind the checkout counter was a closed door with a “manager” sign across the wooden lower portion; the upper quarter of the door used to be a glass window but had long since been busted out. He laid his .357 Magnum on the glass counter and began pushing the buttons on the old timey cash register that sat on a small elevated box above the counter top. The old register keys became stuck in the depressed position.

  Matt soon became frustrated as he was unable to open the cash drawer. Sure money meant nothing now, but old habits were hard to break. In a mild fit of redneck rage, Booger smashed his fists down on the keys; the machine dinged loudly and the drawer shot open – startling Booger to the point that he fell backwards still holding onto the register. He pulled the machine from its slightly raised pedestal and let go of the heavy device as he fell. The register crashed loudly through the glass counter top and Booger landed hard on his backside.

  “Damn it, Booger – what the hell?” Barry was not pleased. He worked his way over to his simple, man-child of a friend and helped him to his feet. “Would you please concentrate, Matt?”

  Matt nodded his head and walked over to the counter to retrieve his weapon. Angry clawing footsteps scratched across the stone floor; four gigantic feral dogs shot into the air from out of the manager’s office leaping through the door’s only opening and over the counter. The smallest of the dogs hit Matt squarely in the chest knocking him back down to the floor. Matt rolled to his side knocking the dog off of him; the beast skidded across the smooth floor winding up next to the rest of the vicious pack.

  Kara shined her flashlight onto the feral dogs. Three of the animals appeared to be some combination of German Shepherd and Rottweiler mix; the biggest canine possibly a wolf. The powerful beam of Kara’s flashlight highlighted the scowled faces and bared fangs; thick drool streamed from their mouths. Their grayish brown fur was matted down with dirt and blood. Their synched up panting fogged the cool air. But their eyes…the group had all seen before. Each of the dogs stared out angrily at the world through the same soulless, bloody eyes common to all zombies. Two of the dogs on either side of the largest wolf-dog growled angrily; the alpha dog tilted back its head howling at some unseen moon.

  “Fuckin’ shoot them!” Booger yelled.

  Two dogs split off from the pack leaping into the air towards Kara. James pushed his sister out of the way as he pulled the shotgun’s trigger; one dog fell limply out of the air, both of its front legs blasted off at the chest. The injured beast fell to the ground and began to push itself towards James using its hind legs only. James aimed the weapon again and fired – the dog’s head exploded into a deep red mist like firecrackers lighting up the night sky on Independence Day. The second dog crept around to the backside of James and came at the old vet sideways; the mutt clamped down forcefully on the barrel of the shotgun and James failed to shake off the enraged beast. Kara bashed the end of her flashlight down on its head until the beast fell flaccidly to the ground.

  The runt of the pack, the original mongrel that had knocked Matt down just moments ago, rushed across the floor towards him. The redneck felt around for his gun forgetting that it was in the glass shards of the broken counter. He reached down and pulled out his Bowie knife that was tucked snuggly into the side of his boot. The southern hillbilly and the infected bitch circled each other for what seemed like an eternity. The dog lunged but Matt was ready; he delivered a deep, penetrating blow - the thirteen inch steel blade entered the top of the dog’s head and exited out its throat.

  The dog collapsed to
the ground growling angrily; it kept trying to stand back up despite the skewer wedged deep into its skull. Matt smashed his foot down on the dog’s muzzle for leverage; through brute force alone, he snatched the knife out of the dog’s head like King Arthur removing Excalibur from its famous stone prison. In one final slashing cut, the large redneck separated the canine’s head from its neck. “All dogs go to heaven, my ass,” Matt said to himself as he moved to retrieve his gun from the glass shards.

  Rodney and Corbin both stepped into the store at the first sounds of gunfire. The large wolf-like beast turned its attention towards the new intruders and accelerated towards them. James and Barry fired off one shot each at the last remaining dog but both missed. The dog leapt into the air over Corbin and Rodney – both men dropped to the ground instinctually. The wolf-dog slightly lost traction on the last remaining slick tiles of the floor closest to the door; its body jackknifed like a semi out of control bashing its side on the exit door as it made a dash for freedom.

  “What the hell was that?” Corbin asked as he stood up.

  “Zombie dogs…” Kara responded a bit unsure as the words left her lips.

  “Let’s get out of here,” James said as he walked over to his sister. They both walked out of the store with the rest of the group close behind. No sign of the dog outside except footprints leading off into the snow-blinded distance.

  No one was injured. Somehow Fate had smiled on the small group this day. Barry tossed the duffle bag of clothing into the van as he sat behind the steering wheel. Rodney and Booger entered the van. Barry started the engine and pulled up next to the Impala. He rolled down his window. “Follow us to the hotel.”

  Kara hopped into the back of the Impala with Megan and Nikki. James and Corbin stood outside the vehicle. The old vet shook his head showing his utter disgust for what had just transpired. Corbin knew they had gotten very lucky. Corbin slid into the passenger side seat and handed the keys over to James when he had entered the car. James started the engine and followed the maroon van to the hotel.

  Whining and whimpering could be heard back inside the clothing store. Stuffed behind an old bookshelf in the manager’s office lay a spastic litter of puppies. Each of them rolled around on the cold floor - their red eyes swollen with hate. They were hungry and could wait no longer; the puppies made their way to the back corner of the room where they began chewing on the stringy, gray flesh of a zombie’s torso…

  Chapter 21

  December 2, 2013: Monday, 5:55 PM – The Historic Gemini Hotel - Hot Springs, Arkansas…

  Barry looked up from behind the van as James pulled into the garage area. Before the plague, valets would have patiently waited side-by-side in this area quickly parking cars for the arriving guests and receiving hefty tips – but not anymore. Bellman carts lay tipped over near the large oak entry doors; orphaned clothes hangers dangled awkwardly from the aluminum carts. Ravished, empty suitcases littered the walkway as sole remnants of their fleeing owners. Horse racing forms fluttered along the ground – the city, a once proud host to a famous horse racing track, no longer had use to advertise such events. No tourists visited this town (or any town for that matter) for leisure – only arrivals to this now barren southern cityscape were those passing through to some other equally ailing destination.

  Barry had just finished unloading some items from the van when James pulled up beside him. Rodney and Booger darted from car to car on the other side of the garage searching for supplies; the cars had been left by guests as they checked into the once famous hotel. The zombie plague must have swept through the hotel with violent speed; the guests more than likely never had time to check out – if they made it out at all. Rodney knew the cars belonged to hotel guests because all but three of the cars had square beige tickets hanging from their review mirrors indicating the owner’s last name in heavy black marker. The non-tagged cars must have belonged to other survivors stopping by the hotel after the onset of the undead apocalypse. Rodney stopped what he was doing and watched Kara get out of the old muscle car.

  “You like that don’t you, Rodney?” Booger impudently mentioned as he looked the women up and down as they exited the car. “Yeah,” Booger continued in a taunting whispering tone, “you like that a whole bunch don’t you? Well this is about as close as you are ever going to get to touching that piece of ass.”

  Rodney didn’t respond, but he knew his redneck companion was right. Rodney tried to focus on the interior of the car he was searching but Kara traipsed whimsically naked through his mind. Oh the things he imagined doing to her when he was finally alone with her…

  “I’d like to give those girls a cup just to see what they would do with it,” Booger chuckled.

  “Go screw yourself you sick, fucking hillbilly,” Rodney blurted out angrily. “Do like Barry said - finish searching these cars, asshole.”

  Across the garage area near the front doors, Corbin reached into the back of the car and gently lifted Megan. She cooed excitedly as her daddy hoisted the chubby, freckle-faced little girl to his shoulder. Nikki and Kara, shivering in the cold winter air, stood beside the driver side door. James swung open the car door and stepped out, his bandolier of shells draped across his chest, the leather strap of his shotgun suspending the weapon from his shoulder. As was his routine, James quickly assessed the area for signs of danger. This time, however, he felt the danger had already presented itself to them – the trio of failure that had arrived at the hotel just before them. He felt undeniably confident that these men would be dead before he parted ways with them.

  Rodney and Booger returned to the van. They hadn’t found many useful items except for an undisturbed package of twenty four plastic bottles of water and some sealed cheese crackers. Finding items of value, especially food or water, bordered on miraculous. As the many months pressed on after the initial outbreak, evacuees and survivors pillaged everything left out in the open as they tried to escape the dying cities. Rioters had burned and looted most businesses and homes as they randomly moved about the crippled cities. With cars boxed in by the congested roadways, people gathered what they could carry in small bags and satchels and made a break for the open countryside hoping to find safety.

  The two groups merged at the backside of the van. An uneasy tension pervaded the area as the strangers struggled against their recently acquired fear of people. It was easy to know where the zombies stood when encountered. There was never any second guessing their intent – they would always – ALWAYS – attack you. With people, a whole different duplicitous storyline often presented itself. Most people on the roads were solely interested in self-preservation. Groups of people, whether they were better armed or more in number, had a well-earned reputation of being untrustworthy – most of those groups preyed on the weaker more unassuming travelers.

  “Booger hand out some water to our friends,” Barry said breaking the awkward silence. Matt did as instructed. Each drank the water quenching their parched throats. Corbin allowed Megan to sip from his bottle as well.

  “Let’s go inside it is cold out here,” Nikki said.

  “I’m sure there are some vacancies,” Matt snorted pleased tremendously with himself.

  James pumped his shotgun and cut his eyes briefly towards Rodney. “He and I will go in first.”

  “Fuck you – who made you boss?” Rodney spit out the words defiantly.

  “OK. OK – calm down,” Barry instructed. “I know we are all a bit uneasy here but we need to work together. It’s our best chance of making it through this whole ordeal in one piece.”

  “I agree,” Kara said. “Let’s try and be civil.”

  “You’re right,” Rodney acquiesced as he looked over at his mental play toy. He deeply hated the old military bastard already but would do just about anything to please the man’s sister maybe increasing his chances to be with her.

  Rodney’s rifle slung over his back, he reached into his waistband and pulled out a 9MM pistol. He moved to the right side of the oak d
oors and James moved to the left side. Barry and Nikki stood at the back of the van, each wielding their firearms in the ready position. Corbin and Kara stood farther back next to the Impala; she readied her rifle and Corbin held his baby closely. Booger stood at the front of the van with his .357 aimed at the door or Rodney – it was hard to tell which his true target was.

  Rodney stepped back to kick open the door but James halted him with a condescending look that screamed: Try the fucking door handle first before you kick open the door alerting anything and anyone to our presence. Rodney reached down for the handle and pulled the door open with ease. James just shook his head and moved inside the half-opened door. Rodney gritted his teeth to keep from shooting the old bastard in the back of his head as he passed by. Rodney moved inside the foyer as well and stood next to James. Each man quickly checked the corners and sightlines to see if trouble waited for them. The coast was clear. Rodney peeked back through the door and motioned the rest of the group inside.

  Matt, like a giant five year old quickly succumbed to the alluring metallic domed ringer sitting on the front desk. It called out to him – even beckoned. He walked over oblivious to the possible consequences of ringing the bell. He reached out his hand, but Barry – who knew Matt’s weakness…stupidity – slapped the man’s hand away from the metal dome just before he made contact. Barry disapprovingly shook his head as Matt rubbed his stinging hand.

  The first floor of the hotel was dimly lit by the sun passing through the many windows and glass doors around the entire building. Chairs and tables were overturned and thick layers of dust blanketed those pieces of furniture that somehow remained upright. A thick, wet scent of decay mixed with sewage and rotting wood drifted through the air. Two large marble staircases ascended the east and west walls leading to a mezzanine area perched above the first floor. Barry pointed towards them and each group cautiously walked up opposite sides.