Zombie Oasis
Page 20
He fell into a more conversational tone. “Yeah, sorry about that. We were at the church all night.” I could hear his smile through the radio. “Some temporary replacements are showing up.”
He said this for the benefit of The Oracle. I turned to see my husky friend grinning as if he already knew this. I asked into the radio, “Replacements for who?”
“Bob showed up. And we have a preacher and a new sheriff.”
I was happily surprised. “I knew Bob had to make it.” Shit, I kind of want to go back now just because Bob’s there. “Why were you at church last night? It wasn’t Sunday.”
He didn’t seem to catch my sarcasm. “Brother Brown was elected as the interim pastor. He gave us quite a story.” My dad’s choice of wording told me that he didn’t believe the story was true.
“‘Gave?’ I take it you considered it was bullshit?”
I could tell he thought so. “Meh. There were a lot of holes in it.”
“But you voted for him anyway?”
He shot back immediately. “No. Neither did your mother or Bob. But everybody else seemed to be in love with the guy.”
He continued telling us about how this charismatic speaker was immediately accepted by almost every resident of the island. Charismatic, huh?
I thought about asking if this guy could become The Dictator, but knew my dad had probably already been thinking about that. After a pause, I spoke into the radio. “We’ve gone through a few dams. Most have been quiet. No losses.”
My dad added on to the end of my sentence. “Yet.”
I begrudgingly reaffirmed, “No losses yet.” It’s like he wanted us to barely make it. If we made it to the Gulf he probably didn’t expect three of us to be alive. I know as The Hero I would have to be included in the three, but he would only accept that because it’s the way things are supposed to be.
He waited a long moment. “How’s Easy?” I knew it was coming.
“I’m here.” My brother was sitting across from me.
“How’s Aka?” Daddy asked.
“She’s here, too.”
She immediately chimed in, “Hey, Randy.” She, like everyone else I’ve ever met, has already taken to calling my dad by his first name. I was guessing my mom would be “Mrs. Collins.”
Speak of the devil. My mother came into the room and entered the conversation with Randy, Ezekiel, and Akambiya. They managed to talk to Smokes and every other member of the crew. Shit, even Crow got some air time! I sat in lonely silence like an unloved stepchild.
Eventually, my father remembered that I existed. “Hey Mo, your cousin is going to do a few flyovers of the county and look for more survivors.” It was great Guntersville now had a big plane with a trained flight crew. I was glad Benji’s skills were being put to use.
I was about to speak when he started again. “If he sees any hordes, he’ll drop some 120s on them.” I was hoping he would do just that.
My mother chimed in. “Elmo, Ezekiel, watch out for one another on your trip.” I cringed at her use of my full first name. We both smiled and nodded then realized we needed to verbally answer. We both sounded back that we would.
“Well, good talk. Buzz you tomorrow night.” Daddy was winding down the conversation.
I laughed. “You sure about that? You don’t want to start making them bi-nightly?”
He fell back into his usual radio stance. “Mo. Yes, I’m sure. And no, we will continue with our set schedule.” Ugh. “Gray Fox over and out.”
Well, this carefree adventure is going to be business as usual, no twists, no surprises. Don’t expect to read about any clashes with the evolving peevies.
Their northward push started over a month ago, so the damn creeps have to be in New York by now. At least in DC. I can imagine the monsters trying to bite Nancy Pelosi and getting silicone poisoning. Shit, never mind. You can’t really kill something that’s already dead, plus she was only at work four days a year anyway!
We won’t come across a single living person. If we do, of course they won’t have any ill intent. We are all just people trying to avoid becoming naked cannibals! Dammit. I don’t remember coming across any incarnations of The Villain or The Dictator or even The Betrayer in this journal.
Tomorrow I will start a new journal. It will detail my boredom and our uneventful, short trip as we travel to find The Cure. You can expect absolutely, positively nothing to happen on our zombie river run!
TO BE CONTINUED
☠☠☠
LOOK FOR BOOK FIVE IN THE
STILL ALIVE SERIES
COMING SOON!
The Following Is An Excerpt From
Book 5 Of The Still Alive Series:
Zombie River Run
ELMO “MO” COLLINS, The Hero, and his brother, Ezekiel “Easy” Collins, The Protector, slashed and slammed blue, cannibalistic, naked scourge after yellow-eyed, starving, undead monster. The former humans were infected with some sort of bioengineered sickness that turned them into rabid apes. These bloodthirsty animals had no bowel control and a craving for human flesh. One bite resulted in immediate infection every single time. Though the casually coined “peevies” would ignore a newly bitten human, the person could expect to become a zombie, chomping at the bit to get a taste of person, roughly within eight hours. Primates and humans were the only known species susceptible to the virus. The Medicine Man was currently investigating an avian relation.
The pair of main protagonists weren’t all that worried about being bitten at this particular moment. Mo and his bodybuilding brother were armored and in Battle Star Galactica Cylon armor and the Iron Man suits, respectively. Mo wielded a Klingon bat’leth while his massive sibling carried a giant Warhammer 40,000. The endless wave of revenants swarmed the brothers. They had switched from rifles to melee combat when the departed drew too close for projectile weapons to be effective. The monsters paid no attention to the fact that they couldn’t bite through reinforced plate armor or the piles of bloody, eviscerated, dead and dying zombies all around the couple of survivors. They only wanted the taste of succulent, raw meat!
The brothers were defending Akambiya Ngona Collins, the only crew member of the Viva Ancora with the knowledge to successfully operate a hydroelectric dam. The replica pirate ship had passed through and they were now returning from the control room. Easy and Aka had recently married back in Guntersville. The newlyweds had spent most of their honeymoon slaughtering peevies. She stood behind them wearing her Storm outfit, ready with her demonic-looking, onyx halberd. She was prepared to slice the creatures with her razor-sharp blade, but they seemed only to be seeking out her husband and brother-in-law, never once attempting to get to the ebony goddess behind them.
The group moved at a snail’s pace, gaining no more than a few inches with each defeated enemy. The Hero thrust one end of his blade into the face of a former middle-aged man with a receding hairline. “This doesn’t make any sense! Why are there so many?”
“Damn right it doesn’t.” Iron Man chose to blame his older brother for the horde. “There’s never this many of them unless I’m with you!”
Mo tried to shake a yellow eyeball from the end of his bat’leth. “What? It’s not my fault. They must come after some of the others. The script wouldn’t be entertaining otherwise.”
“The fuck it ain’t! You just don’t know how few of them there are because they are at every dam you go into.” The Protector slammed the head of his hammer into the back of one of the creatures, shattering the spine and ripping all the way through the ribs. “I’m not coming with you anymore!”
Mo acted insulted. “Fine! Fuck you, too.” He spoke solemnly, remembering the words of The Oracle. “We were paired randomly. I had nothing to do with it!” He lowered his voice and said, “Do you really think I want to smell your fucking cologne?” He continued at his earlier volume. “Besides, this is just how it’s ‘post to be.’”
After destroying a zombie’s legs with his mallet and stomping its head into a p
aste, Easy turn to his brother and scoffed condescendingly, “Well, I ain’t ‘post-to come off the boat with you anymore.” He tacked on to respond to the insult in an equally low tone, “It’s Neiman Marcus. Eat shit.”
The Hero shot back stubbornly, “Good. I don’t want to be with you anymore, either!” He dropped his volume once more. “And I don’t care what it is. I would rather bathe in the ass batter of peevies than wear that stuff.”
Uncountable numbers of shit-covered nudists littered the ground around them. Reeking diarrhea masked the scent of everything beyond the coppery blood at their feet. They were relieved to finally see the exit door. Peevies had been nocturnal until around a month after May Day when they suddenly became tolerant of sunlight. The undead’s eyes had evolved to be able to withstand UV rays, but they still were not fans of the bright afternoon. They normally preferred to hide in dark, damp, musky enclosures soaked in a wet coating of feces with the color and consistency of boiling asphalt. Stepping into the midday sun would hopefully end the majority of the undead assault.
Finally. Peace. The onslaught immediately ceased, as if it had never happened at all. Perhaps it’s all a figment of my imagination, thought The Hero.
Slinging the bloody filth from his two-handed blade, The Hero let out a weak chuckle. Met with sunny warmth and sweet silence, Mo mangled an old Bruce Springsteen song, “I guess they were revved up like a deuce. Cannibals are just runners in the night. Thank God peevies are blinded by the light.”
☠☠☠
Follow Mo and His Fellow Survivors in the
STILL ALIVE SERIES
BOOK ONE:
ZOMBIE LAKE
BOOK TWO:
ZOMBIE ISLAND
BOOK THREE:
ZOMBIES ON A PLANE
AND COMING SOON!
BOOK FIVE
ZOMBIE RIVER RUN
Available on Amazon, Coming to B&N, and
Other Book Outlets in Multiple Formats Soon!!!
☠☠☠
ALSO CHECK OUT
JAVAN BONDS
DYSTOPIAN SERIES
BOOK ONE
FREE STATE OF DODGE
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About The Author
Javan Bonds is the author of the apocalyptic zombie series STILL ALIVE, and the bestselling Free State of Dodge. Bonds has had to overcome numerous obstacles in writing as well as just living his daily life. Diagnosed at the age of 11 with Friedreich’s Ataxia (FA), (a progressively degenerative neuromuscular disease under the umbrella of the Muscular Dystrophy Association), he has slowly been robbed of his physical abilities through the years. Bonds became wheelchair bound in 1999, but that was only the beginning of his setbacks. His sight began to diminish in 2010 and he is now legally blind. His hearing began failing to the point he now can’t distinguish individual voices in a noisy room. In spite of all of this, he continues to consume three to five audio books a week as well as work on his future novels.
Bonds never lets his disability rule him; he has lived fully, loved, and laughed often. Reading and writing has long provided Bonds with both pleasure and a creative outlet. He began blogging at a very young age and has published articles and letters for his local newspaper. In 2010, he discovered a passion for writing novels and with help of Nuance’s Dragon Naturally Speaking, he writes every day.
In late 2015, at only 28 years old, Bonds was told he may have only a short time left due to the ravages of FA on his heart. Since learning this, his goal has been to complete a significant, lasting body of written work before his time in this world runs out.
In mid-2016, Bonds published his first full length novel: FREE STATE OF DODGE, the first in a dystopian series about an America in decline and its rebirth.
He is currently working on future books in his zompoc humor series, Still Alive. The series is currently set for twelve books. Javan and his publishing team hope you enjoy his work and all of the upcoming books in the Still Alive series.
Javan has these words of wisdom to offer others stricken by a life-shortening illness:
”Live your life. Light your candle on both ends and let it burn. It may burn out faster, but your flame will burn brighter than some who live much longer”
Keep an eye on his flame, watch it burn!