by Brown, TW
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kayla sighed.
“We have a long haul ahead, so we need to get going.”
I got to a crouch and looked back down the hill. The meeting was still going on. Also, apparently the person that had been captured along with Suzi had been deemed unnecessary. I could just barely make out the form of a body on the ground.
Kayla and I stayed in a crouch until we were over the ridge of the little hill. Only, now we had a new set of problems. There was a sea of zombies down below. They had reached the encampment and, now that I was not solely focused on what I’d heard at that meeting, I could hear the screams and cries as people below died terrible deaths. I could also see that, while some were trying to fight, most were running for their lives with whatever they could carry. A very fortunate few had managed to reach the area where the horses were allowed to graze and galloped away. Sadly, most of the horses had been on the fringe of the camp and gotten engulfed by the undead swarm.
Seemingly a million miles away to our left was Island City. I tried to find a way around that mob, but it seemed unlikely unless we wanted to move parallel to it and move around the tail end. That would not be a problem except for the fact that it would put us on a wide open stretch of land where we would have no cover and easily be seen. I was impatient, but this was no time to be careless. We would have to wait out the zombies.
***
“Let’s go.”
Kayla shook me awake. I had not thought that I would actually be able to sleep. Between everything bouncing around in my head, my desire to get to Billy, and the screams that seemed to never end coming from the encampment, I honestly thought that I would just lie in the grass under the interlaced branches in this grove of trees and churn things over in my mind.
Apparently not.
I’d let Kayla resume her nap while I took the first watch. When she woke and promptly scolded me for not letting her do her part, I’d relented. The next thing I knew, she was waking me up and it was almost dark.
“We have wasted the better part of a day,” I said around a yawn.
“Yeah, but that herd has finally cleared out for the most part. I think we can move right down into that old neighborhood area and stick to the shadows. We could make it to the walls and then use Island City as our cover as we make for the pass road that will take us home.”
That was as good of a plan as any. I got up and slung my pack over my shoulder.
“Oh,” Kayla said as she climbed over the fence that enclosed the junkyard, “I sharpened your blades. Also, you have my crossbow. Yours got messed up somewhere along the line. You are the better shot, so I figured it would be best if you were the one with the working crossbow.”
“Thanks,” I grunted as I landed on the ground and in the near perfect black of the shadows of one of those towers of old automobiles.
“I tell you because I think you should probably load that thing.”
It was then that I realized Kayla was talking in a whisper. A second later, I heard the rumble of a zombified dog. I saw a shadow that oozed along the ground and was just a bit darker than the shadows already being cast.
I was thankful for the bright moon just overhead; otherwise we might be in for a bit of trouble. I backed up a few steps and looked over at Kayla who was already up on the rear bumper of a car and trying to keep her eyes on the zombie dog while still doing her best to get out of range of its muzzle.
I lined up my shot and fired. There was a noise, and I thought for a second that I’d scored a kill. Then I realized I’d actually pinned the pathetic thing to the ground. Hopping down, I hurried over and ended its suffering—if zombie dogs suffer, that is.
“That is odd, don’t you think?” Kayla asked as we sort of jogged across the rest of the junkyard.
“What?” I was scanning for any more signs of trouble, so I was not really doing much in the way of thinking.
“Did you run across any zombie dogs when you came this way the first time?” Kayla asked, although I could tell she was starting to struggle with running and talking, so I slowed my pace just a little. Also, she made a good point.
We rounded the corner of a long row of those stacked cars and emerged in a relatively bright swath of ground that seemed to almost suck in the moonlight. I only took a few steps when the low moan of a zombie caused me to pull up short. Kayla actually skidded to a halt and ended up on her butt from trying so hard to not only stop, but reverse directions as well.
“Where the hell did they all come from?” Kayla asked.
Looking around, I saw zombies coming out from all over the place. Also, I could see a section of the junkyard where the wall had fallen. Zombies might be like electricity and take the easiest path, but when they are stuffed into a space too small to contain them, they have no problems making a new path.
“Just run, Kayla,” I urged, grabbing her arm and pulling her along.
She drew her belt knife and seemed to gather herself with a few deep breaths. We ran along together, making no style points at all as we pushed, shoved, and spiked our way to the other end of the junkyard. We finally reached the fence on the other side. It was no problem to jump, hook my leg over and be free and clear.
I turned and saw Kayla as she struggled to pull herself up and over as well. She just got one leg over and her face was an expression of triumph; then she vanished. It was like seeing somebody get pulled under water.
“No!” I screamed. I ran back and pulled myself back up just in time to see Kayla disappear under a pair of zombies.
She screamed and I threw myself over, landing on my feet and plunging my knife into the back of the head of one of her attackers. A trio of undead were all reaching for me and I only had a split second to think that it was lucky for Kayla, otherwise she would be under a pile of five instead of just the pair, one of which I had already ended.
I heard Kayla shriek and my blood chilled. That was not the sound of fear, it was a scream of pain. I kicked at the closest zombie of the trio approaching me and then grabbed the one that was on top of Kayla by the back of the neck. With a quick jab, I stabbed it in the side of the head.
Kayla shoved the body off of her and scrambled to her feet. I could hear her crying and I kept hearing the word “no, no, no, no” being almost chanted as she threw herself at the fence. I had to shove another of the trio away, this time angling my push so that it collided with the remaining one that was still coming.
I looked up to see maybe a hundred more of the undead advancing towards all this commotion. Turning, I leaped and caught the top of the wall and hauled myself over for the second time. Kayla was on her knees and I could see dark liquid dripping from her left arm and onto the ground in front of her.
“C’mon, Kayla,” I panted, finding myself out of breath after the repeated trips up and over that tall fence that had once sealed off the junkyard.
“Just go,” she whimpered.
“Umm, no.”
“I’m bit, Thalia.” She held up her arm to emphasize the point.
I was about to say something when more moans carried from close by. We needed to get to the relatively safe walls of Island City. This was not the time or the place for a debate.
“That does not mean a thing until we get you someplace and wait for a symptom to show.” I grabbed for her and she scrambled back and out of my reach.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried. “If I am infected, you can catch it.”
“I know how it is transmitted,” I huffed. “And I will not touch you, but you need to get up. If you are infected, I promise to take care of you.”
“You need to get back to warn the others, you don’t have time.”
“I can wait until we get someplace where I can get a better look.”
“But—” Kayla tried to protest.
“Shut up and get on your feet!” I barked. “You came this far. You have shown that you are not just another pretty face and that you can handle yourself. Don’t throw it all away now by acting
like a…a…a girl!”
Kayla sniffed and stood up. I blew a sigh of relief since I could now see zombies converging from all over. That herd had broken up quite a bit coming through here. I felt like an idiot for not realizing that this possibility existed.
I unzipped my coat and cut away a piece of my shirt, handing it to Kayla to use as a bandage. She wrapped her forearm quickly after she used her own knife to cut away the ragged section of the sleeve. It only took a moment, but in that amount of time, the hundred zombies coming our way had more than doubled.
We ran for the oasis that Island City represented. When we reached it and had gotten safely behind the walls, I sought the first house and hurried inside. Lighting a lantern, I did not really care if I gave away our location. I held my breath as I turned to face Kayla.
I staggered back and I saw her expression crumble. I had to shake off my emotions right away.
“No!” I said in a rush. “I am actually just relieved. No squiggles!”
“Really?”
She stood up and walked over to a mirror mounted on the wall and peered at her own reflection. She used her thumb and index finger to peel her eyes open as wide as possible as if she expected to discover something hidden that would reveal her to actually be infected.
Her face slowly broke into a smile and she turned to me. Her mouth opened as if she were about to say something, and then she simply collapsed.
“Kayla!” I ran to her, my heart suddenly in my throat. She had looked fine. What could have caused her to just drop like that for no apparent reason?
I reached her side and was relieved to discover that she was still breathing. I held my breath as I peeled her eyelids back again and re-inspected her eyes. They were still clear. However, I did notice that she felt warm to the touch.
I was at a loss as to what to do. For the most part, she appeared normal and healthy. I was beginning to feel myself fray at the edges. Seriously, I’d heard the stories of the old days when it was one stretch of bad luck after another. Hearing the stories, you did not understand how anybody had survived, much less been able to bring people together and create communities.
I felt it build, and then it was as if a dam burst. My eyes flooded with tears and I began to cry. I clutched Kayla tight and sobbed so hard that I started to feel dizzy. I guess I was making quite a racket. That is the only reason to explain how somebody (or a group) had made it to the porch.
When the door flew open with a crash, I was crying so hard that I couldn’t even scream as the lantern toppled from the table and landed with a crash on the floor. Flames raced up the curtains of the living room window and the splatter pattern from the oil in the lamp had caused the large couch to add to the conflagration.
Over everything, I heard the moans of the undead. Somehow, they must have been able to get inside Island City as well. They had followed me, and then, between my having lit a lantern in the first place, and then all my crying, I had led them right to us. Now I had to make a choice.
Die by zombie.
Or die by fire.
A moment with the author…
Finales can be so scary. After all, you have committed so much of yourself to a long-running series. And while you always knew that nothing could last forever, you tried not to think about it. After all, what new and exciting thing would you find to fill your time?
Believe me when I tell you that this book you are holding represents some agonizing moments for me as a writer. Take away the whole thing about this being the conclusion to a series that I have poured thousands of hours of my life into and simply consider that you hold a part of my dream in your hands.
When I was younger (like in junior high) I dreamed of being a writer. I had just finished Stephen King’s The Stand. Maybe it was simply because I did not want the story to ever end, but I remember thinking, Is that it? It just seemed so anti-climactic after the rollercoaster ride that the rest of the story had been. Still, I accepted it and, after a second, third, and tenth reading, I came to find peace in how Fran and Stu got to live “Happily Ever After” with Tom Cullen and a new baby in a world safe from Randall Flagg.
That was my first taste of something that would sink its hooks into me and never work free. The next thing was that fateful day when I first saw Dawn of the Dead in the theaters as part of a double-feature. That was another ending that made me yearn for more. Really? Peter and Francine taking off from the roof of the mall as the zombies reached skyward (don’t get me started on how they got up there or how some of those “feature” zombies seemed to regenerate—Nurse Zombie, Gun-toting Zombie and the one I named Chester Tate Zombie just to mention a couple).
How can that be the end?
I think we have all said that at some point in our lives when referring to the series finale of a book or beloved television program. I never appreciated the pressure of delivering a conclusion until now. Sure, I have the Zomblog series in my resume, but if you ask me for an honest answer, I don’t think I was really satisfied that I provided a finale as much as I did an end.
A finale just sounds like it should be spectacular. An end is just that…an ending. In my opinion, a finale should provide a sense of satisfaction for the person reading or watching it. The audience should read that last word and be able to lean back, sigh, and close their eyes in contentment.
I do understand that entertainment is a fickle mistress. What is one person’s “greatest thing ever” will be absolute drivel to somebody else. That is the nature of the beast. If that were not the case, we would all think that Michael Jackson’s Thriller was equal to Pink Floyd’s The Wall. I am not sure if I am making my point clearly, but what I basically want to say is that I know some of you will finish this and be prompted to write me a gushing letter of adoration, while others will (to put it bluntly) be pissed and rip me a new one. I’m okay with that. Although, it would be nice if you at least told me which one you were in the email subject line so I can be prepared.
Love it or hate it, I will always be okay with you telling me exactly how you feel. (Although, to that one young lady who wanted to be my “sugar mama” and keep me in luxury so that I could write twenty-four/seven, I appreciate it, but I really am happily married, and I do fear that you would find life with me far too boring since I hate talking to anybody when I write and can be very grouchy when disturbed.) I am a big boy and can accept criticism. I believe it only makes me a better writer. Case in point, I do feel that I really streamlined the Vignettes sections of these books by the time I finished DEAD: Fortunes & Failures thanks to the honest constructive criticism and feedback from a few dozen readers. Believe it or not, I almost killed the Vignettes section after that book. I would have if not for some wonderfully helpful input from readers who loved the Vignettes but had some suggestions on how they might be more cohesive.
All this rambling is my roundabout way of welcoming you to DEAD: End, the finale of the proper DEAD series. Proper? What do I mean by that? If you don’t already know, I will tell you in just a moment.
So, what can you look forward to in this (hopefully) Grand Finale? Well, I want to give you closure. Yes, the world will keep spinning after you reach that last page, but I want you to be able to feel good about or mourn the lives of the people you have come to know over the past few years. You know me well enough to know that anything can happen and nobody is promised a happy ending. However, not everything is bleak and dreary. I want you to have some moments where you can smile. That being said, this is still the zombie apocalypse.
Or is it?
That is the other thing you might have noticed as the series continued; zombies stopped being the focus a long time ago. Yes, the zombies will still be there, but we are now well into the post-apocalyptic era and they just are not the scary monster they were in the beginning.
I do hope that you will reach the last page of each story line and take just a moment to let it sink in. Say your goodbyes and then move on to the next one. I would be VERY appreciative if you perhaps c
ommitted some of those thoughts on paper and then shared them with a review at the end. Of course you are also welcome to drop me a line and let me know directly—good or bad.
Now, some have asked what I will do next. I can say very happily that I will take a few days to relax and soak it all in. After a few pats on the back (self-inflicted or otherwise) I will dive into my horror/comedy series, THAT GHOUL AVA. Also, the DEAD: Snapshot—{insert town here} series will continue until people stop buying them. I can reveal here that Kevin and Catie will get (at least) a three book series involving their travels and adventures. Additionally, Adam, the journal keeping vigilante, will be getting his own series at some point in the future as well.
I have rambled enough, and I know many of you just skip this to get to the story, but for those who have indulged me, I will step aside right after I give some thanks to those I would be remiss in omitting.
I want to start by thanking my wife, Denise. She has never wavered in her belief in me as a writer or author or whatever you want to call me. I want to thank my Beta Readers: Melena Stacey-Duff, Nelson Wilbanks, Niamh Clancy, Heather Burns, Kary Lawrence, Dawn, Spengler, Candice Douglas, Tammy Gaylord Beard, Jeff Shoemaker, Sophie, and Caron Hirst. You did the hard part. You helped make this book a better, cleaner read and pointed out my many mistakes. I may have still missed a few, but that number would be much greater without your keen eyes and helpful suggestions.
Vix Kirkpatrick. Buddy, you have been on board for a long time. You have never stopped being my friend even when the cool kids bailed. You probably know this story better than I do. Thank you for everything.
Wanda Beers. You may be anonymous to some, but never to the people in my house. Your secrets are safe, but my gratitude is public.
To the men and women who matter—those who serve in law enforcement, fire departments, hospitals, and last but not least, the military. You make the world safer and give of yourselves every single day. Thank you is never enough.
