The last house I cleared before lunch had a bedroom which had obviously been once occupied by a couple of teenage girls. There were pictures of them in a cheerleading outfit and pom-poms fastened to each corner of the dresser mirror. They were two very cute twins. I went through their dresser drawers. It looked like most of their clothing was left behind. I wondered what had happened to them. Were they twin cheerleading zombies now? I opened one drawer and found a bunch of bras and panties. They were all very sexy looking. French cut or thongs, lacy, silky, various colors. I looked at the sizes. Very petite, but the bras were c-cups. Nice. I held up a pair of panties and felt the silky smoothness. I realized I was becoming aroused and had the sudden urge to masturbate with them. I looked at the picture again. They were blondes with pretty hazel eyes, cute little butts and nice muscular legs. They were wearing sweaters, which prevented me from assessing any opinion about their breasts. They reminded me of Macie. I thought about her too much. I muttered a curse and threw the panties back in the drawer.
I had almost gotten myself in a good mood, now I was getting depressed again. Over a woman, a woman who had hurt me deeply. It seemed like I’ve met a couple of those lately. I should have bent Julie over and diddled her brains out when I had the chance. Or Janet. No, scratch that idea, not Janet. If I had made a pass at her, Rick would have been hurt. The thought reminded me of something I needed to do. Anyway, I squashed any teenage urges and walked out in front of the house. It was a fairly large two story with white vinyl siding. I spray painted the standard FEMA symbol on the front door, and then affixed rule number three on the white siding in large block letters for everyone to see: RULE #3 THERE ARE NO RIGHTEOUS ZOMBIES! Z.
“That one’s for you Rick.” I said sadly. I admired my work for a minute then headed on to the next street.
Moe and I worked through a few more houses. The results were limited. Several of the houses had decomposing bodies. Those were the houses which had no food, but they still had their most prize possessions hidden. You know what I mean, expensive jewelry hidden in the freezer, guns stored in the attic with insulation piled on top of them. Sounds good, right? All I found were a couple of diamond necklaces and a twenty-two caliber revolver with a suppressor attached to the barrel. I thought the necklaces were basically worthless but took them on the chance I could use them for barter. The revolver could come in handy for quiet work, but I had no ammo for it.
About midday I had to take a break. I sat on the tailgate of my truck deeply inhaling the icy, but fresh air. The houses which were occupied with corpses and/or zombies reeked of putrescence. I tried clearing a house while wearing a mask, but it made me feel claustrophobic and restricted my peripheral vision, so I left it in the truck and suffered the stench. It was getting a bit nauseating.
In spite of the foul odor, I was hungry. I cleaned my hands and then got a couple of sandwiches out of the cooler. Moe whined and began giving me his poor pitiful starving dog expression. It worked, I gave him one, and the two of us ate in silence. Suddenly, Moe started growling. I praised him and then quickly shushed him. The zombie was down Old Hickory Boulevard a little over two hundred yards away. I was certain it had not seen me. It was shambling down the road with no particular destination in mind. I watched in halfhearted amusement, wondering how close he needed to be before he finally spotted us. Suddenly, the zombie made a beeline over to a car parked on the side of the road. He never stopped his shambling gate and literally bounced off of the car. Regaining his balance, he then started slapping and clawing at the windows. It was almost comical to watch if you ignored the fact any physical contact with him could be potentially lethal.
I retrieved my binoculars and looked him over. This one, a man, could have been in his twenties or his fifties. It was hard to tell. He had apparently sustained a harsh act of violence. It looked like one of his arms had been torn off. His stump consisted of torn flesh and jagged pieces of bone sticking out. There was no blood flowing out of his stump. Was it due to no circulation system? Or does zombie blood coagulate quickly? I did not know. His lips had rotted off, or maybe another zombie had chewed them off. The rest of him looked awful, advanced decomposition, tattered blood stained clothes, eyes almost rotted out. I wondered how it could still see, but apparently it could. It definitely saw something in the car.
I contemplated my options. Kill the zombie or drive on to another neighborhood? I needed more gas. The truck was down to a quarter of a tank. I did not want to take a chance of driving too far, not finding any, and running out before I got back home. There were plenty of cars around here I could siphon from. I had been experimenting with different siphoning methods. Most of them were laboriously slow. I ended up with a battery operated drill I rigged up to a small mechanical pump. I attached a three foot piece of garden hose connected to each end. Voila, I could stick one end into the gas tank, the other end into the truck’s tank. It was quiet and efficient. So, the decision was made. I would kill him and continue with the scavenging in this neighborhood.
I did not want to make a bunch of noise. After all, attracting more zombies would defeat the purpose. I still had not found a compound bow or crossbow, nor did I have any bullets for the newly acquired silenced revolver. It then occurred to me, I had brought a machete. It was in the bed of the truck. Hmm. I quietly opened the door and put Moe inside. He would probably attack the zombie, and I did not know if he would become infected. Getting the machete, I started walking and approached as quietly as I could.
I got to within ten feet before he heard me. He turned and looked at me as if I were some type of apparition. Imagine a zombie with a decomposed face and rotting eyes looking frightened. It was so odd, I laughed. I then lunged forward with a sweeping arc of the machete.
A skilled martial artist could have easily ducked or moved out of the way. But zombies aren’t martial artists. His head came off somewhat cleanly, fell to the ground, and was still rolling when the rest of the body collapsed.
I checked myself quickly for any harmful fluids which might have gotten on me, and retrieved my ever present bottle of waterless antibacterial soap. I cleaned the machete first and wiped it down in the snow before cleaning my hands and face. It reminded me back to when I killed Jasper. I had been splattered with blood from head to toe. If a police officer had stopped me, I would still be sitting in a jail cell. Whether or not I would have been alive, dead, or zombified was anybody’s guess. I guess I was lucky. I was still smiling at the thought when I peered in the car to see what had captivated this thing’s attention.
There was somebody lying down in the back seat.
Chapter 16 - A Reunion of Sorts
I recognized Julie immediately. Skinny, petulant Julie. Even though she had her oversized coat zipped up and the collar pulled up to her face, there was no mistaking those blue eyes with the green speckles, the splash of freckles across her cheeks, and her tousled chestnut brown hair. She was looking up at me in sheer terror.
Shit, this was not good. I dropped the machete and drew my Glock as I backed up and looked around. I scanned every nook and cranny but did not see anyone else. If Julie was here, Don and Janet had to be nearby. I walked back to the car and watched her hands as I tried to open the back door, but it was locked. I motioned for her to come out. She shook her head. “Come on out, it’s okay.” She shook her head again. I was not going to break out the window, nor was I going to beg. I shrugged. “Have it your way.” I had too much to do and she was not on the agenda. I retrieved my machete and got about halfway back to my truck when I heard the car door open. She ran toward me until she saw the gun. She stopped suddenly. “Where’s Don and Janet?” I demanded.
“Don’s dead.” She said. How many teenagers do you know call their grandfather by their first name? I suddenly recalled Janet calling him by his first name as well. I did not find it odd until now. I filed that tidbit away.
“Where is your mom?”
Julie’s lower lip quivered. “She’s not here. She…we met some pe
ople. Mom said we should join in with them.” She looked at me. “They’re not very nice.”
I walked closer to her and suddenly reached out to frisk her. “You got a gun on you?” She shook her head quickly. I squeezed the pockets of her jacket, felt around her waist band, and wasn’t shy about grabbing her crotch for any indication of a weapon. She flinched, but did not protest. Satisfied, I stepped back. “Tell me about Don. What happened?”
She had a familiar expression on her face, like she was about to say something smart about me grabbing her crotch, but then thought better of it. “Zach, it was so weird. After we left you guys, Don started acting really strange. We drove around in circles for half the night before mom finally convinced him to stop until daylight. He’d mumble stuff to himself and was just kind of zoning out. He kept insisting we go back to downtown Nashville. He said he saw real people and there had to be a FEMA camp around there somewhere. When the sun came up Don somehow figured out how to get to Nashville. We got to somewhere around Vanderbilt. Don got out of the car with the shotgun and started looking around. A zombie came out of nowhere. He actually ran up to Don and jumped on his back. He started biting him and clawing at his face before any of us could do anything.”
I held up a hand. “Wait. The zombie was actually running? Are you sure?” She nodded. Wow. I had heard of this during the initial stages of the outbreak, but did not realize a zombie still had the capability of running. “Did you note the amount of decomposition?”
Julie gave a halfhearted shrug. “There wasn’t much at all. That may have been why Don didn’t react right away. His eyes were crazy looking and his face was reddish, like he had a fever or something, but otherwise he almost looked normal.”
So, a freshly turned zombie can run. Interesting. Even more interesting, if what she was saying was accurate, this person had turned at a much later time than everyone else had. Did I say it was interesting? A more appropriate word would be alarming. “Okay, what happened next?”
“Don was fighting with it, trying to keep it from biting him. And mom…” I could tell she did not want to tell me, but I needed to know. I held my hand up and made a swishing motion - tell me. “So mom got into the driver’s seat and drove away. She left Don. He didn’t deserve that.” She brushed some hair out of her eyes. It had gotten longer since I last saw her. I had to admit, it enhanced her femininity. Mine had grown out as well. I started keeping it tied back in a ponytail. I really hoped it did not enhance my femininity.
Julie continued. “After that, we just drove around aimlessly. We’d park in obscure areas and sleep in the van at night. Sometimes we’d find something to eat and Tommy got pretty good at getting gas. He’d crawl under the car and knock a hole in the bottom of the gas tank. Then he’d fill up empty milk jugs.” She smiled proudly at Tommy’s ingenuity. I had thought of this technique as well, but once you’ve done it, the automobile was inoperable unless you fixed the tank. I did not feel it was prudent thinking and did not do it.
She continued talking. “Mom even talked about coming back to you and Rick. She seemed to think she could smooth things over. You know, blame everything on Don. That’s my mom. Nothing is ever her fault, always somebody else’s.” She paused a moment, I guess she was thinking of the character that her mother was. I was pretty sure I knew how she felt. Everyone wants their parents to be perfect. When you figure out they’re not, or worse, when you figure out that they are majorly flawed, it hurts. Deeply.
She then flipped her hair back and continued. “We had been just kind of driving around avoiding zombies, no real destination planned. Then the van broke down. We didn’t know what was wrong with it and we couldn’t fix it. I made a comment about how Don could have probably fixed it and mom threatened to lock me out of the van. It was getting late in the day when we saw them. They were in one of those Hummer limos. There were six of them. They were riding around and they were standing out of the sun roof like stoned idiots taking pot shots at zombies, or anything that looked like zombies. Or windows, Darius seemed to be fascinated with shooting out windows. They were smoking weed, drinking, and just having a good old time. Mom stepped out of the van, smiled real big, stuck her chest out, and waved at them. Long story short, they invited us to join them.”
“Where are they now?” I asked.
She pointed back over her shoulder. “They’re staying in someone’s house back that way about ten miles.”
It seemed like she was being truthful, but I was still suspicious. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
She shook her head, like she was trying to shake away a distasteful memory. “Yesterday, two of us decided to go out looking for food and stuff. I thought Darius was a good guy, but he pulled over on the side of the road and tried to, well you know. I convinced him I had to pee first. I got out of the car and made a big deal out of finding a good place to squat. I took off running and managed to hide from him. He drove around for about an hour looking for me. Then I guess he gave up and left. I’ve been walking ever since. I was doing a pretty good job of hiding from the zombies. They don’t move so good in this cold weather, but then that one found me sleeping in that car.”
She gestured at Mr. Headless. His mouth was opening and closing slowly. It still was not quite dead, even without anything below the neck. “That was pretty cool, what you did with the machete.”
She reminded me of the zombie. I walked over and looked at his neck where the head used to be. There was some kind of black goo slowly oozing out of the neck. It may have been blood, but it did not look like any blood I had ever seen. Okay, so if there is no blood, or I guess I should say no red, oxygenated blood, the circulation system must be compromised. I thought maybe that also applied to the respiratory system. It answered some questions, but seemed to create more questions as well. I then tore open the shirt and looked at the armpits. There was distinct swelling of the lymph nodes. So much so, it looked like cantaloupes were stuffed under each arm. I straightened, used my waterless soap again, and focused my attention back on Julie.
“Alright, so this guy tries to rape you and you escape. Where did you think you were going to go?”
She shrugged and stuck out her lower lip. I was not sure if it was a natural mannerism or if she were putting on an act, like her mother had. “I was hoping you and Rick would let me stay with you.” I scoffed and started to shake my head. “Please? I’ll be good, I promise! I’ll cook, clean, feed the chickens. You name it, I’ll do it.” I had several responses on the tip of my tongue, but we were interrupted by Moe barking. I looked down the road. There were three figures. They were kind of standing there. Well, that was being a bit subjective. They were hunched over, definitely not standing erect.
“Wave at them.” I said. Julie looked at me like I was crazy. “You said you’d do anything, was that a lie?” Much to her credit, she immediately started waving vigorously. No response other than the distinctive shambling walk. “Zombies don’t seem to wave back. So that one you saw running, he wasn’t doing that?” I pointed at the trio.
She shook her head. “The one that attacked Don, he definitely ran. And he was pretty fast too.” I thought about what she said. I wondered if one of them would still be able to run in cold weather.
They were still a good distance away, but getting closer. “Are you going to shoot them?”
I shook my head as I holstered my weapon and retrieved my machete. “This is a scavenger mission, not a go out and kill zombies mission. I’ve got to get at least twenty more gallons of gas and anything else I can find. Time to leave. Are you coming?” I trotted back to my truck without waiting for an answer. She followed.
“Did you bring any clothes with you? Food, toothbrush, female stuff, anything?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t think that I’d be running away. Well, let me change that. I had planned on running away when the opportunity was right, just not right then. So, it was either get raped or take off empty handed, and that’s exactly what I did. I think I cou
ld eat a horse right now I’m so hungry.”
I nodded my head in understanding as I retrieved the spray paint can. I still had time to paint some rules.
RULE NUMBER 4: FRESH ZOMBIES CAN RUN, OLD ZOMBIES CAN’T. Big block letters so everyone could see it. I added two more.
RULE NUMBER 5: THE COLD SLOWS THEM DOWN.
RULE NUMBER 6: DON’T LET THEIR BLOOD GET ON YOU!
RULE NUMBER 7: HIGHER BRAIN FUNCTIONS ARE DIMINISHED, BUT THEY’RE STILL DANGEROUS.
I finished it off by signing a Z underneath.
Julie looked at it and smiled. “Nice. Are you putting these everywhere?” She said.
I nodded. “Everywhere I can. Maybe it will help other survivors.”
When we got to the truck, Moe instantly attacked Julie with devastating licks to the face. He barked, jumped, and spun around in the truck the way excited dogs will do. I had no idea that the two of them had bonded in the short time that she had been with us. He apparently missed female company too. Julie hugged him and shortly spotted the cooler sitting in the back seat. I had no doubt she was as hungry as she claimed. I cocked my thumb at it.
“I got some food and a jug of water in there. Help yourself. Now let’s see if we can get you some clothes.” She quickly turned in the seat and dived into the cooler. “Whoa, whoa, hang on.” I reached into my jacket pocket and retrieved the waterless hand sanitizer. “Always use this or some equivalent. We don’t exactly have ready access to antibiotics and doctors.”
She looked at me funny. “I never thought of it like that.” She squirted her hands liberally and rubbed them together before looking in the cooler. I made a U-turn and headed back to the cheerleaders’ house. I ignored all of the stop signs and we arrived in short time. I parked and pointed. Julie had already finished the sandwich, and was wolfing down a Twinkie as I parked. I cleared my throat. She looked at me with a dirty mouth. “I’ve already cleared this house. There’s a bedroom upstairs that looks like two sisters lived in. There are some clothes that I think will fit you. Go up and grab what you want. Don’t waste your time on the frivolous crap like high-heeled shoes, focus on the practical.” I handed her some of my newly acquired trash bags for her to put her clothes in.
Zombie Rules Page 12
