State of Emergency

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State of Emergency Page 15

by Hallberg, Mary


  Sam didn’t join them in the field, only saying he was going upstairs. He didn’t come out for the rest of the afternoon, and nobody protested. Dallas didn’t even want to think about what she might be like had she just lost Talia.

  Just before six, they stopped for the day and ate dinner on the front porch. Afterwards, they sat in wooden rocking chairs and drank sweet tea. “I feel like I’ve just time travelled into the fifties,” Dallas said. “Except for the zombies.”

  Uncle Jack laughed heartedly. “This is the life, huh?” He slumped in his seat and closed his eyes. The crickets had begun to chirp. Other bugs had come out too — Dallas swatted away more than one mosquito — but she didn’t even mind.

  After drinking an entire pitcher of tea, they still had about an hour of sunlight left. Dallas and Talia went back out to the field, but not to work.

  They walked for nearly half a mile, so far out they could no longer see the cabin. They sat on the pier by a catfish pond in a wooded area. Talia took off her shoes and dipped her toes in the water, but Dallas was leery of the pond and kept her feet tucked in. It was mercilessly humid, but tolerable compared to the heat earlier that day.

  “I’m kind of having fun out here,” Talia said. “Building fences and whatnot. This time last week I didn’t even want to suffer through P.E. Who knew.”

  “Well, you didn’t get to take P.E. with your awesome big sister,” Dallas said.

  Talia snickered. “Seriously though, I feel like I just finished a marathon or something. A marathon where I would get eaten if I didn’t go fast enough. We literally went through hell to get here.”

  “Well we’re here now,” Dallas said. “And it’ll be good and we’ll be happy. At least I hope so. But it’ll be different.”

  “I feel like I’ve grown up so much in the past week.”

  “I do too, Tally,” Dallas nodded. “I really do.”

  Talia laid her head on Dallas’s shoulder, something she hadn’t done since they were little. Dallas started to sing an old, familiar gospel hymn they used to sing in church. She sang softly at first, but Talia soon joined in, and their voices grew stronger and louder until Dallas was sure even the fish were listening.

  It was almost dark when they decided to head back to the cabin. As they reached the back porch, there was a high pitched scream from the front.

  Talia gasped and she and Dallas took off running. The screaming continued for a moment before cutting off abruptly. There was a male voice from the front — Uncle Jack’s voice.

  “Uncle Jack?” Dallas called. “Hello?”

  “Dallas?” It was another male but more familiar voice. Dallas bounded through the back door and into the kitchen, where her father stood in the front doorway, staring directly at the blood stain on the floor.

  “Dad!” Talia cried from behind her. She ran to her parents and threw her arms around them. Dallas followed suit.

  “I knew you guys would make it,” Talia said against his shirt. “I just knew it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As of Thursday, October 20, the so-called zombie virus has affected over 10,000 people. The virus spread rapidly through New Orleans and the surrounding Mississippi and Louisiana coasts. Many government officials fear there is no hope and only encourage residents not to drink unfiltered water. The virus causes victims to slip into a coma, then wake up hours later and attack those around them. Symptoms include spots, graying skin, and a white film over the eyes. If a family member or other loved one contracts the virus, it is advised that you keep them comfortable and indoors. There is no known cure.

  “Dallas? Dallas!”

  Dallas’s eyes popped open. The sun was halfway below the horizon, but still shone bright in her eyes. She sat up and fumbled for her sunglasses. “What is it, Tally?”

  “Mummies or ghosts?”

  Dallas blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Sam and I are having a debate,” she said. “Now that everyone knows zombies are real, we need a different monster to occupy pop culture. Since vampires and werewolves have already been done, it’s down to ghosts and mummies. I say mummies, because they’re kind of like zombies, but Sam says ghosts — for the opposite reason.”

  “Well, think about it,” he chimed in. “People have already seen all the damage that zombies can do. They’re going to want something completely different. And even though zombies were possible because of science, not everyone believes in the supernatural. So it’s not like ghosts would be a real threat. They would provide a safe measure of escapism.”

  “Hear that?” Talia said. “He sounds exactly like you, Dal! You guys have been spending way too much time together.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Sam said. He winked at Dallas, whose jaw was hanging open.

  “Are you guys freaking kidding me?” she said. “I thought we were in actual danger, and you guys want to talk about ghosts and mummies? You’re insane. Don’t wake me up again unless someone is bleeding.” She lay back down on her towel. “Besides, mummies are zombies.”

  “No they’re not,” Talia argued. “Not really. They come back to life because of a curse, not a virus, and they don’t eat human flesh.”

  “But they’re still the living dead.”

  Talia sighed. “They’re not zombies. But if any mummies find their way in here, I’m still shooting them.”

  There was a shout from the front yard. Dallas’s eyes widened, and the three of them pulled themselves up and ran toward Uncle Jack’s deer stand.

  Dallas’s parents and uncle were huddled over the edge of the deer stand, gazing at the ground ahead of them, just outside the perimeter of the fence. “Would you look at that?” Uncle Jack shouted. “It fried the bastard!”

  Dallas scrambled up the deer stand and peered over the edge. Sure enough, a body lay at the base of a tree about twenty feet from the fence. Its skin was blackened and singed, and its legs were twisted like Tatum’s at the House of Blues.

  “It works!” Dallas smiled as she felt Sam’s hand on her back. “Does this mean we don’t have to worry about zombies anymore?”

  Uncle Jack shrugged. “I still think we should keep a lookout. Some of them might find their way past the barrier. System’s not perfect, you know. Plus someone needs to make sure they only fry the right people. Wouldn’t want them to kill something that isn’t already dead. But it definitely works. ”

  “How often should we keep a lookout?”

  “Right now, I’d say ‘round the clock. But we’ll play it by ear. You know, see if these zombies can learn to stay away.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Do you want me to get some more flowers?” Talia said. “The lilies in the front yard would look good with the purple. Or anything, really.”

  Dallas shook her head. “Nah, I’m fine with these. Do you have the camera ready?”

  Her mother tapped her bag. “Fresh batteries,” she said. “Haven’t used any since we got here.” Dallas couldn’t remember the last time she had used batteries. They only had a limited supply, and solar energy eliminated the need for them in most circumstances.

  Her phone battery died shortly after their arrival in Chattanooga. She found a charger in the farmhouse that fit it, probably left behind by one of her cousins, and used it for basic things like calls and text messages. The internet was spotty, and most of the news was repetitive anyway. Two weeks before the wedding, she sent text messages to a few friends and family members, telling them about the farm, but got no responses. A week later, phone service stopped and hadn’t come back since. Cable and internet soon followed. Unless they wanted to leave the farm and seek someone out face to face, any communication with the outside world was now impossible.

  Dallas turned back to the full length mirror and adjusted her white dress. It formerly belonged to her grandmother and originally came with godawful poofed up sleeves. Her mother had kindly removed the poofy parts, leaving Dallas wi
th tiny straps that showed off her shoulders, tanned and toned from weeks of working in a field. Her hair was curled to perfection with heatless rollers and pinned back with one of her grandmother’s old butterfly clips.

  “I’m going to get some flowers anyway,” Talia said. “They’ll look good by the hot tub. Since, you know, we don’t have a flower girl.” She headed out, leaving Dallas and her mother alone.

  “Are you nervous?” her mother asked.

  Dallas shrugged. “A little. I don’t think it’s quite sunk in yet. I’m still trying to process everything that’s happened.”

  “It’s a lot to process, isn’t it?”

  “Too much. You didn’t even believe me when I first told you.”

  “Sweetheart, it’s not that I didn’t believe you. It’s just that...well, okay, I didn’t.” Her mother laughed. “But it’s not because I thought you would lie to me, especially about something so serious. I just thought with you liking zombie movies and not liking Tatum that you only saw what you wanted to see.”

  “Apparently everyone else thought that way too,” Dallas said. “We all see what we want to see. Even Sam and I did. We wanted to believe that Ali and David were coming...anyway, I’m so glad I seem to have made the right decision.”

  Her mother made a noise and hugged Dallas’s almost bare shoulders. “Sweetheart, I am so proud of you. Even if you’ll never become some teen singer like Tatum...well, you’ve done something much better, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess I have.” Dallas’s earlier jealousy of Tatum seemed pointless now. She had finally managed to get something she wanted through hard work. Even though her life plan had turned around almost as fast as Tatum’s shallow desires had been fulfilled, Dallas was alive and Tatum was not. Dallas had found someone to share the rest of her life with, and Tatum would be sixteen forever. She could still picture her former rival lying on the floor of her dressing room, her legs contorted and her manager’s body sprawled on the couch a few feet away. Even Tatum didn’t deserve an ending like that.

  Talia came back in with a fistful of flowers. “Think these will do?”

  Dallas nodded. “They’re perfect. Thanks Tally.”

  Talia set the flowers down. “I was thinking about learning to garden. Not just food, but flowers too.”

  “Talia, I’m impressed!” their mother said. “You didn’t even like growing lima beans in third grade. I didn’t think you’d ever want to garden.”

  “Neither did I. Or I didn’t think I would. Until we got here, anyway.”

  “It’s really not so bad, is it?” Dallas said. “We have solar power and plenty of food, as long as we grow it. We haven’t seen a zombie in weeks. Even if they did get up here, the electric fences would probably take them out.”

  Their mother nodded. “I have to say, Dallas, you made a pretty good decision.”

  “Let’s just hope your choice of husband turns out the same way,” Talia said.

  Uncle Jack nudged the bedroom door open. He was dressed in a black tuxedo and his hair and beard were neatly combed. “Ready for this, kiddo?” he said.

  Dallas lifted her dress. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  Dallas had always secretly wanted to get married on the beach, so they set up deck chairs by the hot tub. Close enough, she decided. Uncle Jack presided over the ceremony, which started right on schedule.

  “I suppose everyone knows why we’re here,” he began. Dallas giggled; the ceremony consisted of Talia, their parents, and a few horses that had wandered up to the edge of the fence. They stomped their feet impatiently as Uncle Jack continued.

  “In all my years as a pastor, performing ceremonies for hundreds of couples, I have never been as proud to marry these two kids. Okay, maybe I’m a little biased, seeing as how one of them is related to me. But these two really have been through a lot. Especially my niece Dallas. She risked life and limb to come here, and went to hell and back before she made it. But not only did she risk her own life, she risked her sanity. She couldn’t have known if her hunch would be correct or what all she’d need to do. But she trusted her gut, and it paid off. I know I might be sounding a little corny here. But Dallas, trust me when I say this — and I say it both as your pastor and your uncle — if anyone deserves happiness, it’s you, kiddo.”

  Dallas’s eyes drifted to the edge of the field. She and Talia had carved four makeshift wooden gravestones — one each for Ashleigh, Pierce, Ali, and David. It was the closest she could get to them being there to celebrate with her. She paused a moment when she looked at Pierce’s grave. Just like her rivalry with Tatum, everything she had been through with Pierce suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

  They really had been through a lot, Dallas and Sam and Talia. But it was time to move forward, and this wedding was the perfect opportunity to do so. They might not be completely safe here — after all, several acres of land behind them stood unfenced. But they were all together now, and they would stick together no matter what happened. Especially she and Sam.

  Unlike most people, Dallas would always remember what she was doing when the first seeds of the Apocalypse were sown. Most would remember them as earth’s darkest days, but she would remember them as her finest hours.

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  Thanks so much!

  - Mary

  Acknowledgments

  I know thanking God goes in and out of fashion, but I never cared much for trends anyway. Thank you God, not only for giving me a passion I can turn into a fulfilling career, but for the tenacity needed to make that happen.

  To mom and dad: Thank you for being supportive, even when I said crazy things like “I want to attend an arts school at sixteen” or “I want to quit my job to write, even though I barely make enough money writing to pay for gas.”

  To my writer’s groups, both in person and online: Having a community of crazies just like me has been invaluable over the years. Special shout out to anyone who has read and critiqued my work over the years, even if your critique made me want to curl into a fetal position with a bottle of vodka.

  And finally, thanks to all my other family and friends for your support. Especially to Jess, my closest writing buddy who was there for me when nobody else was. We’ve had over ten years of fun, and I hope we have at least fifty more.

  About the Author

  As a child, Mary Hallberg’s mother wanted her to read HEIDI and CADDIE WOODLAWN, so she grew up reading Goosebumps books under the covers. As soon as she was old enough for a Blockbuster card, she graduated to horror classics like Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, and The Evil Dead. Her parents still wonder where they went wrong in raising her. She lives in Mississippi. Visit her online at www.maryhallberg.com.

 

 

 


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