Zombie Overload (Book 4): Determined To Live

by C. M. Wright

  "Stop it, Will. It's ok. You're ok. We're all ok. That's all that matters now."

  "I'm sorry, Canada. Jake." Will's apology to Jake isn't even close to being as sincere, or as heartfelt, as his apology to me was.

  "Forget about it. We got bigger things to worry about now," Jake says.

  I grab my phone off the dash and notice a missed call from my sister. But first I dial my brothers and all the others that are out looking for Will. They're all relieved he's been found safe and alive, but my brothers threaten to kick his ass when they see him. They're only half-joking.

  Then I dial my sister.

  "Hey sis. We found Will and are now on our way to Hill City. I'll call when we get there to find out where you are. You did all get away safely, right?"

  "That's what I tried calling you about." Her voice sounds strange, and it makes my stomach dip.

  "What's wrong? What happened?" I ask her. Terrified someone, a family member -My kids! - were hurt.

  "Well, I went to the barn to tell Sara to get her ass out of there, and get into a vehicle," she pauses.

  "And?" I impatiently ask her.

  My interest or concern for Sara, after all she's done, is sorely lacking.

  "Well, seems she was beaten," Rose responds.

  "Yep. And? What the hell did you think was going to happen when I went out there?" I ask her.

  "Well, she was also dead."

  My body turns cold and my mind stops working for several long moments.

  How can that be?

  I didn't kill her!

  She was beaten, sure. But I didn't kill her!

  She was moaning in pain.

  She was moving when I left.

  "Rose, I didn't kill her. I swear I didn't! She was still alive when I left her!" I desperately need her to believe me.

  "You know, sometimes it takes awhile for a person to die after a beating. And a gunshot to the head usually ensures it," Rose sounds cold, hateful almost.

  "But I didn't shoot her! I never pulled my gun!"

  "Is it possible - in the condition you were in - that you did shoot her, and just don't remember it?" she asks me.

  "No! No, I remember it all," I insist.

  But then I become unsure.

  I tell her I'll talk to her when we meet up, then I end the call before she can say another word.

  Will and Jake ask me what's going on, but I tell them to just give me a minute.

  I need to think!

  I climb over the backseat with Will's help and refuse his offer to get in the back with me.

  "Just...please! Give me some time alone for a little while. Please?" I beg him.

  He nods and turns toward the front, giving me my privacy. I sink down in the seat, then decide to lie down and let my memories of what happened in the barn play out.

  I remember opening the door, the darkness, following the sounds in the stall, finding Sara making the stall her little home. I remember entering the stall and Sara's shock at seeing me. I remember her raising her arms to protect her face and head, the screams and moans from the pain of my fists pounding into her. The utter joy and satisfaction I felt with each blow. And then...

  I remember washing the blood off myself at the pump. Lots of blood. But I also felt a burning pain in my hands when I washed them, and when I checked, I could see half moon-shaped holes in my palms. Not hard to figure out I did that myself. And then the blood that came from my own nose. So the majority of the blood was mine then, right?

  Wait.

  What happened between beating her and washing myself off?

  What happened?

  I can't remember!

  Oh, Holy God!

  I just can't remember!

  Confused and angry - and beginning to accept that I did kill her - I punch the back of Jake's seat and scream in frustration and fear. Startled, Jake slams on the brakes, swearing until he gets the truck stopped. Not yet ready to admit what I did aloud, I squeeze my eyes shut - as if that will keep them from questioning me.

  Chapter Four

  I finally open my eyes to see both of their faces looking down at me in concern. Sucking in a deep breath, and letting it out slowly, I open my mouth to speak - finally telling them how Sara was found.

  "They think I shot her," I finish.

  "Oh bullshit! You didn't shoot her. Someone else must have. You couldn't have done it," Will insists.

  I love Will - and his loyalty - but this time, I wish he would just accept the truth.

  I murdered Sara!

  "After what she did, I can't see how anyone can be upset at you for doing it. We all, at one time or another, wanted to," Jake says.

  "Yeah, but no one actually did. No one but me," I tell him. "What the hell is wrong with me? And why can't I remember? Rose thinks the bi-polar just took over and I blacked out while I was with Sara. I guess that's probably how it happened, considering I can't remember leaving her."

  "That, or maybe all the head trauma you've had. Don't beat yourself up over it, Canada. It's not your fault. You had no control over it, so just stop. They're your family, they'll understand. They love you," Jake tells me.

  I look at Will, who's become silent. He's just staring at me; no real expression on his face.

  "Will? What about you? Do you still love me? Do you still want to be around me?"

  Will places his hands on each side of my face. "Of course I do. I'll always love you. And I still don't believe you did it." He lightly shakes my head with his hands when I open my mouth to protest. "No! Don't even try to change my mind. I mean it, Canada, I don't believe it. And even if I did, it wouldn't change how I feel about you."

  I give Will a weak smile, but keep my mouth shut. Jake climbs over the seat, starts the truck back up, and gets us moving again. I sit up and give Will room to sit beside me. He wraps his arm around me, and we say nothing.

  Will is certain I'm innocent. Me? Not so much.

  I try my best to not think about it.

  There's nothing I can do about it now anyway, right?

  I mean, it's done. I can't bring her back.

  But...oh my God!

  I killed someone!

  Killing zombies is one thing, but a living human being?

  How could I have done that, even as mentally screwed up as I am?

  Stop it!

  Just forget it.

  There is absolutely nothing you can do about it now!

  Easier said than done.

  But I'm going to do my best. I need to stay focused, I need to get my kids back.

  I need to keep us all alive.

  Chapter Five

  Just before we cross the highway and enter Hill City - technically I wouldn't even go so far as to call it a city, more of a town - Jake pulls into a gas station and then up next to the pumps. There are half a dozen undead stumbling around in the parking lot, and about the same amount inside the store - that I can see, anyway. Jake and Will both get out of the truck, but I stay inside. Not as if my handicapped ass can do much to help anyway.

  I keep my attention on Will and any undead that's an immediate threat to him. These are the original - the "normal" - zombies. I never thought I would be grateful to see these hideous things, but the new and improved version is much worse because we don't know a damn thing about them - and they're fast!

  Did I mention they're fast? Just making sure.

  Will walks around the truck and meets Jake by the pumps. Jake inserts the nozzle into the truck, and lets out a few swear words when he remembers it has to be approved and turned on by someone inside.

  I lower my window halfway and watch as the guys shoot their way to the front door. I roll it back up when a zombie notices me and heads in my direction. His body jerks and sways as he makes his way to my window, where he presses his face against the glass. I just sit there on my own side and watch him with disinterest. I realize that just a few weeks ago - Days? Damn, I don't even know! - if some man had come up and started licking my window like this, I would
have been terrified.

  But now?

  I roll my window down enough to get the barrel out.

  I just shoot them.

  BANG!

  Bye, bitch.

  My God! Why the hell did I ever think this zombie shit would be fun? I know I've told you before, but this really sucks.

  Yeah, yeah. Bites.

  Whatever.

  Headlights coming down the highway from the overpass jerk me out of my depressing thoughts. I lean forward and stare hard at the rusty white truck filled with men in the front and in the bed of the truck, all of them holding shotguns. I watch as they shoot every undead they get near. Their yells and hollers attract the zombies to them in groups.

  Oh, this can't be good!

  A car with a woman and a man pull up to the stop sign on the ramp from the highway, waiting for the truck to pass so they can safely turn. To my horror, the men in the truck swing their shotguns at the car...and start shooting!

  I see the woman's head slam back against her seat before banging against the dash. The man is lying over the steering wheel. The truck stops, and the men jump out of the back. They run to the car and start taking stuff out of it, throwing it in their own vehicle. One of them grabs the woman and flings her out of the car and onto the ground. Bile rises to my mouth as I watch, unable to turn away.

  Until now.

  I turn and look inside the store, watching as Will shoots the last of the undead. Jake is already at the console turning the pumps on. I look around and see no undead paying attention to me, as all their attention is on the fools from the truck. Jake and Will come out of the store and I open my door.

  Frantically, I wave to get their attention. When I have it, I put my finger to my lips to signal them to be quiet, and then again frantically motion them to get over here. They both stay quiet and run to me.

  "What's wro―"

  "Shh! We gotta problem. Those guys in the truck just killed two people and are stealing their stuff. Two living people!" I tell them as fast - but as quietly - as I can.

  "Are you kidding me? Those son of a bitches! I'm gonna kill 'em!" Jake says.

  "Jake, no! We have frikken gas pumps right next to us. It wouldn't take a whole lot more than one bullet to blow us the hell up! We've got to come up with something better, but what?" I ask, my voice shaking with fear.

  The assholes up the road are even worse than the zombies, because these assholes can think - not intelligently, obviously - and have weapons in their hands. Those two combined make a highly dangerous - and deadly - situation.

  Will speaks up with rare authority, causing both Jake and I to jump before we give him our full attention, "Here's what we're going to do. Canada, get in the front and be ready to drive, but stay down until I tell you. Jake get inside the back and scoot over to the passenger side; duck down, but not all the way. I want you to watch out the window and keep an eye on them. I'm gonna pump this damn gas."

  I'd already started climbing into the front seat before he could finish, but a flaw in his plans causes me to stop and whip my head around to him.

  "Damn it, Will! What about the undead? Who's going to protect your ass from them?" I ask him.

  "I will. Now do what I said, damn it!"

  Yes, sir! Have I ever told you how sexy this man is when he gets mad?

  I nod to him and get beneath the wheel, then lean to the side with my upper body on the seat. It's just starting to turn to dusk outside, when I suddenly think of the light on the inside roof of the Hummer. Realizing that the light could give us away as more than just an abandoned vehicle, I grab my gun and use the grip to bust the interior light, then fling myself back down. Jake and Will both jump and let out a few cuss words, but after they realize what I had done - and why - they both tell me "Good girl."

  Yea, me! See me panting and drooling as you pat my furry little head?

  Eat shit, assholes.

  It seems like forever, but finally I hear Will remove the gas nozzle and twist the gas cap back on the truck. Jake had been giving us updates on the idiots from the other truck. Since the moment he informed us that one of the guys was doing unthinkable things to the dead woman's body, my anger has steadily increased until things start getting fuzzy for me again. I decide then and there that these men will not live. It takes everything I have to force myself to wait for Will.

  When he gets in, he tells Jake and I the rest of his plan; that we're going to try to make it to the back of the store - headlights off, even though it's not nearly dark enough for us to use the blackness as cover - then we're going to hide, because they may come here to get fuel.

  Hide? Seriously?

  Jake agrees with every bit of Will's plan.

  Guess they should have thought this through a little better before putting me in the driver's seat, huh?

  Chapter Six

  I sit up and start the truck.

  Will leans forward, whispering into my ear, "Ok, honey. Now, slowly ease the truck on this side of the abandoned cars until you get to the back. That's it. Nice and ea―Whoa! What the hell are you doing!"

  I slam on the gas, turning the wheel toward the morons standing around the truck and car - smoking and drinking beer, frikken celebrating - and the one who had turned my fear to fury. Will and Jake both scream at me, and Jake throws his upper body over the front seat, making a grab for the wheel. An elbow to his face takes care of that, and he sinks into the back seat, now screaming about his "broken" nose. Will is smarter than Jake. He just sits in his seat, eyes wide with fear and confusion; probably wondering how he lost control so quickly.

  Poor guy.

  As I tear out of the parking lot, the other men look our way and raise their guns. Will finds his voice again as he and Jake scream at me to stop and turn around, and ask stupid questions like, "Are you crazy?"

  Why, yes. Yes I am.

  The other men start shooting, and the pings of the shots against our Hummer are loud.

  Jake and Will scream even louder, and I start getting one hell of a headache.

  "Shut the bloody hell up! This truck is bullet-proof, you idiots!" I scream back at them.

  But they don't listen; maybe they're incapable of listening.

  As I near the men, my conscience tries to stop me by reminding me that I'm against killing living people. I put my nagging conscience in its place by reminding it I've already killed a living human being. And who could honestly call any of these disgusting freaks human?

  With even more determination, anger, and an "I don't give a damn" attitude; I press even harder on the gas. The morons make it easy for me by staying together in a tight group, still shooting. The only one not in the group in front of me, is the one apparently too involved in the pleasures of the unresisting woman's dead body, confident in his buddies' ability to handle whatever problem has come their way.

  The one I want dead the most.

  I'm now close enough to stare right into the eyes of the apparent leader of the freaks, and I watch with wicked fascination as his eyes widen, just before I slam the Hummer into him and his buddies.

  Throwing my door open after a few passes back and forth over the men, I tell Will to give me my crutches. He refuses at first, but when I aim my gun at him, he changes his mind. I jerk the sticks out of his hands and start forward. Both men get out, but stay behind me - protecting me or scared of me, I don't know which. At each body I come to, I take one of my crutches and slam it into their crotch. None of them even flinch, although I hear Jake and Will gasp each time, feeling sympathy pain in their own crotch as most men do. Satisfied that the others are dead - at least for now - I start for the one I really want.

  I come up behind him and wait. From the noises he's now making, I'm sure it won't be much longer.

  I bet you're wondering why I just don't shoot him, huh?

  Well, I could.

  But I'm not.

  Things are different now.

  I'm different now.

  He finishes, then unsteadily gets to
his feet and pulls his pants back up.

  "Hey fellas! Y’all need ta git ya some of this shit," he yells drunkenly over his shoulder to his buddies, still unaware his buddies won't be enjoying things like that, ever again.

  He fumbles with his belt, and when no one responds to his call, his voice takes on a slightly worried, but annoyed tone, "Dammit, guys! Where'd y’all go? You better notta left my ass. Damn belt!"

  He finally stops fumbling with his belt and just leaves it unbuckled. He turns...and comes face to barrel with my gun.

  He pinwheels his arms a few times, and takes a few staggering steps back.

  "Far enough, you sick bastard," I tell him, my voice as cold as the night air.

  He raises his hands out in front of himself and waves them back and forth. "Hey now, come on." He chuckles, nervously. "Don't shoot. I'm on you all's side. I'm a livin'. Not one of dem freaks!"

  I look pointedly down at the woman, whose body he had just violated in the sickest ways possible.

  "What! Her? She were done dead. I prolly shouldn't have done that, but I'm justta man, ya know? And we men gots ta do things like that ta release the fus-ter-ation, ya know?"

  "Will? Jake? Would either of you ever have sex with someone who's already dead?" I ask.

  In disgust, they both very strongly say, "Hell no!"

  I watch as the other man looks from both of my men back to me. He gives another nervous laugh and says, "Come on, now. Just let ol' Grit go and let's forget about this. Whaddaya say? Remember, I'm on your side."

  "I'm pretty sure you're on the zombies side, Grit," I tell him.

  "Huh? No. Really! I'm alive, ya know?" he insists. "Look at me! I can talk. I have a heartbeat, ya know? I'm alive!"

  "For now...ya know?" I tell him just before I slightly move the gun and shoot his left leg.

  His massive bulk falls to the ground as his leg gives out. He grabs his leg and screams in pain as I stand above him, smiling down. His eyes bulge when he sees the wicked smile on my face and the coldness in my eyes.

  "Please! Please, help me. The zombies will get me! Please!" He stretches his hand out to me, and I stare at it for a few seconds before I shoot through the center of his palm.