Gen Z Boxed Set

by Baileigh Higgins

  “Do you think we should check it out?” Dean asked.

  “It’ll be dark soon. We need shelter for the night,” Vanessa said.

  “What if we get mistaken for zombies and shot?” he answered.

  Emily snorted. “Don’t walk like one, that’s all, dummy.”

  “Don’t call him a dummy,” Vanessa replied with a frown.

  “It was a dumb question,” Emily protested.

  Chas sighed. This is why I’m the leader. Because I’m the only one who can keep the peace between these two hotheads, and Dean is too nice to do it. “That’s enough, you two. Besides, he has a point. We might not get mistaken for zombies, but that doesn’t mean the owner is friendly.”

  “If there is one,” Emily said, folding her arms with a huff.

  Chas pointed at the padlock. “Those chains are brand new. Someone’s home, all right.”

  “Oh,” Emily said, taken aback. “I didn’t notice that.”

  Vanessa looked like she was about to say something nasty, so Chas interrupted. “Either way, I say we take a look. If we keep our hands up and make it clear we’re friendly, we should be okay.”

  “Why not just keep going? If there’s one farm, there must be more,” Emily said. “Places that aren’t occupied.”

  “To be honest, my leg hurts, I’m tired, and at least this place looks safe enough to spend the night,” Chas said, finally admitting that she wasn’t feeling so hot.

  Concern washed across the three faces in front of her.

  “What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m light-headed, and I’m starting to sweat. I think…I think the infection is setting in.”

  “In that case, let’s have a look at the house,” Emily said. “I’ll go first. I’m the smallest and least threatening. Vanessa, stick behind me. No weapons. Dean, you should wait here.”

  “That’s smart,” Vanessa said in a lighter tone, indicating she was ready to make peace.

  Chas nodded. “I’ll wait here with Dean. Whoever’s up there might shoot first and ask questions later if they see I’m injured.”

  “I’ll…explain the situation if I can,” Emily said, her eyes shadowed.

  “Good luck,” Chas said before slumping to the ground as her two best friends scaled the gate and made their way uphill. “And don’t get shot!”

  “I’ll try!”

  Dean wandered over and sat down next to her, picking at the dry grass that grew all around them in clumps of gold. He chewed on a stalk, his eyes flitting from her leg to the sky and back again.

  “I know you’ve got something on your mind. Spit it out,” Chas ordered.

  “It’s nothing. I just…I can’t believe it. That we might be losing you so soon,” Dean admitted, a flash of grief crossing his features. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  Chas looked at the bandage wound around her calf, the blotchy blood stains a deep rust-red in color. “Me neither. I thought…I really thought we’d find Grumps and Alvarez and Julia. I thought we’d put together a plan to save the camp, and everyone would be happy and safe. Together again. A family, you know?”

  “I know, and we’ll still do it. We’ll find everyone, including my parents. We’ll unite, and we’ll save the camp. I promise. That’s the one thing I can do for you, Chas,” Dean said. “The only thing, perhaps.”

  “Thanks, Dean. You’re a really good guy, you know?” Chas said as tears dripped from her eyes. “Look after Vanessa and Emily for me too, please. And Lala.”

  Dean’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away. “I’ll do my best.”

  “There’s one other thing,” Chas said before leaning back against the fence.

  “What’s that?”

  “When the time comes, make sure I don’t turn into one of those things. I don’t want to live like that, be like that.”

  Dean sighed, and his shoulders sagged. “I get that.”

  “Promise me,” Chas insisted. She needed him to say yes. To agree. She couldn’t do it herself, and she didn’t want the burden to fall on either Emily or Vanessa. “I know it’s not fair to ask that of you, but please.”

  He nodded. “All right. I promise. As long as you promise not to give up too soon. There might still be hope. A cure. Something.”

  Chas nodded her head, agreeing to his terms even though she knew the chances were slim to none. There was no going back for her, but it was what he needed to hear, and so, she said it. “Okay. I won’t give up.”

  “Good. You’re a fighter, Chas, and people trust you. That’s why I’ve never tried to take your place. Vanessa is tough, but she’s impulsive, and Emily is clever, but…” Dean said.

  “She can be a know-it-all at times,” Chas said with a giggle. “Not that I’m perfect either. I’ve got my flaws.”

  “You said it, not me,” Dean said, raising his hands in self-defense. “But, you’re our leader, and I respect you for it.”

  Chas chuckled weakly. “Aw, shucks, Dean. You’re making me blush.”

  He grinned. “Don’t get all big-headed on me now!”

  “I’ll try,” she said, plucking a strand of grass from the ground. A ladybug crawled along its length, and she recited the nursery rhyme of old. “Ladybug, ladybug fly away home. Your house is on fire, and your children are gone.” The little insect flew away with a whirr of its wings, and Chas smiled. “Silly little bug.”

  “I’m just glad they can’t turn into zombies,” Dean said with an exaggerated shudder. “Just imagine zombie cockroaches!”

  “Ugh. Now there’s a nasty thought. Or flies. Or spiders,” Chas added with a laugh. It was fun to joke, but she couldn’t shake the hollow feeling inside. Was she turning into a zombie even as they spoke? Is that what the burning sensation in the bite wound and the tingly feeling in her body meant? Once again, she had to fight back the tears as a simple realization hit her. I don’t want to die.

  Chapter 10

  Chas and Dean waited at the bottom of the hill for about twenty minutes before Emily and Vanessa came back. They scrambled over the gate again, their cheeks flushed with either exertion, excitement, or a combination of both.

  Chas climbed to her feet with a pained grunt and leaned against a post. “And?”

  “We found the house,” Emily said. “And the owner. It’s an old lady. A widow.”

  “Yeah, she almost shot us,” Vanessa added. “It took a lot of sweet talking to get her to listen to what we have to say.”

  “But, we explained everything, and she agreed to let us stay the night,” Emily concluded.

  “Does she know I’m infected?” Chas asked, her eyes flitting from one to the other. “You didn’t leave that part out, did you?”

  Emily hesitated, and she and Vanessa exchanged nervous looks. “Well, I said you fell and hurt your leg.”

  “Darn it, Emily. I’m infected, therefore dangerous. You of all people should know that. If she lets me into her house, I put her at risk, and she deserves to know the truth,” Chas said as frustrated anger stirred in her chest.

  “I’m not convinced you’re infected, or a danger,” Emily cried, her hands curling into fists. “We need to look at this logically. Examine the wound first.”

  Chas sighed. “Emily, I am looking at this logically. You’re the one who isn’t.”

  Emily stamped her foot. “I’m not letting you give up, Chas. I won’t.”

  Chas looked at Emily, and the years fell away. They’d been friends since kindergarten. Emily the bright one that read too many books and Chas the anti-bully who protected her friend from harm. Thousands of memories, some good, some bad, bound them together. The time they snuck out to a party and got caught, the time they watched a horror movie and had nightmares for days. Sleepovers, birthdays, exams, and homework, all forming a tapestry of undying friendship. She knew what Emily was feeling. Knew why she wouldn’t listen. Because it was exactly the way Chas would’ve felt.

  “All right, Em. Let’s meet this old lady and see what she�
��s like. Deal?” Chas asked.

  Emily stared at her from narrowed eyes. “Really? You’re not fooling with me?”

  “Really,” Chas agreed. “Let’s go.”

  Together, they made their way up the hill with Emily supporting Chas while Dean and Vanessa carried their stuff. The ground curved up and away in a steep bend before leveling out into a large clearing. In the middle sat a quaint two-story house surrounded by green grass and tall trees. It immediately reminded Chas of her grandparents’ home.

  Longing stirred in her heart, and she had to blink sudden tears away. How she missed both Lala, Vivienne, and Grumps. They’d spent peaceful evenings sitting on the porch drinking sweet tea while waiting for Vivienne to return from a late shift. She’d return in a cloud of disinfectant, and gratefully accept a cup of tea at the kitchen table while Chas rubbed her swollen feet. It hadn’t been much, nothing rich or fancy, but it was home…and it was her family. Now it was all gone.

  An old lady stood on the porch wearing a flowered dress and men’s boots. A stained apron covered the front of her skirt, and her white hair was pulled back into a messy bun. Twinkling blue eyes surveyed them from a wrinkled face with a button nose. She looked nice. Like anybody’s grandma. The cookie baking type.

  There was nothing friendly about the shotgun in her hands, though, or the gigantic dog that stood by her side, its lips pulled back in a warning snarl. To top it off, the barrel of the gun was pointing straight at Chas. “Hold up, young ones. Don’t come any closer.”

  Chas and the others stumbled to a stop. Emily spoke up in a wounded voice. “But…I thought you said we could stay the night.”

  “That I did, and I’ll hold to it if you tell me what really happened to your friend. That was no fall that did that,” the old lady said in stern, uncompromising tones as she pointed at Chas’ leg.

  Chas looked at her friends before stepping forward. “I’ll tell you what happened, ma’am. I’m no liar, and I believe you should know the truth.”

  “Did you get bitten by a zombie?”

  “Kinda,” Chas replied.

  “What do you mean, kinda? You either did or you didn’t.”

  “It was a coyote, ma’am.”

  “A coyote? Since when do they attack humans?” the lady asked.

  “Since they’re the undead kind, ma’am. They attacked us, and I got bitten by one of them. I’m not feeling too good either, so I guess I’m infected,” Chas added in subdued tones, fully expecting to be either shot or chased away on the spot.

  “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Come on in. I’ll get some hot water and towels, hun. We’ll get you fixed up in no time at all,” the lady replied, stepping aside and waving a hand at the front door. “I’m Sandy, by the way. Sandy Dennis. The dog’s name is Henri. Don’t mind him, he won’t bite. Welcome to my home.”

  Chas stared at the woman, wondering if she’d heard right. “Um, are you sure, ma’am? I mean, I’m infected with the zombie virus. I’m dangerous.”

  “You’re infected all right, but not with that zombie sickness. I saw it all on the television before it cut off,” Sandy explained as she hustled the little group into her home. Locking both the screen and the wooden doors, she sat them down around a table and poured each of them a glass of sweet tea. “Poor dears. You must be starving. Let me fix you all a sandwich before we take a look at that leg. If it’s gotten you this far, it can wait a few more minutes.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Chas said, staring at the glass of tea in her hands. It was cold. Taking a cautious sip, she almost groaned with pleasure. It tasted just like Lala’s. She still didn’t know what was going on, but she needn’t have worried as Emily immediately began quizzing Sandy.

  “Why did you say she doesn’t have the zombie virus, ma’am?” Emily asked.

  “Because according to that man on the television, you know, the one from the CDC, you can’t contract the virus from animals,” Sandy replied.

  Emily frowned. “You can’t?”

  “No, it carries over from human to human or animal to animal. Either one can contract it from contaminated meat as well,” Sandy said.

  “Huh?” Dean said with a confused frown.

  “It means that you can get the infection from bad meat and so can your dog,” Emily explained, “but you can’t infect your dog and your dog can’t infect you.”

  “Why not?” Dean asked.

  “I guess that once infected, the virus adapts to the host, making it impossible to cross over to different species,” Emily said. “It makes sense, actually.”

  “To you, maybe. It’s all Greek to me,” Dean said with a snort. “But, as long as Chas is going to be okay, I’m happy.”

  Vanessa smiled and reached for his hand. “She’s good, babes.”

  “Actually, your friend is not doing so well,” Sandy said, placing a plate full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the table. “She might not be turning into a zombie, but she does have an infection.”

  Dean and Vanessa sobered, their smiles falling away, while Emily nodded. “I thought so. She’s got the symptoms of a bacterial infection. Fever, pain, trouble walking on the leg. I’d bet the wound is all red and swollen too.”

  “You’re clever friend here is correct. Animal bites carry a high risk of infection. If you add in the rotting flesh from the coyote’s mouth your chances are tripled,” Sandy said.

  Chas felt ill just thinking about the rotting flesh part and stared at her leg. It was throbbing and painful, had been for a while now. Even though she was happy to hear she wasn’t going to turn into a zombie, worry of a different kind now consumed her. “What do we do now?”

  “You’ll need antibiotics,” Emily said. “Strong ones. The kind we don’t have.”

  “This is bad,” Vanessa said. “Where do we get that? The hospital? I seriously don’t want to go back there.”

  Chas shuddered. “Neither do I. A clinic or drug store, maybe?”

  “Luckily for you kids, I have everything you need right here,” Sandy declared. “Now, eat up. The sooner you’re done, the sooner I can treat your wound, hun.”

  “How?” Chas asked, confused yet again.

  “I used to be a nurse before I retired, and I still have a fully stocked kit in the cupboard,” Sandy said. “It’s the one thing I always made sure was up to date.”

  “I guess I’m a lucky girl then, coming across you,” Chas said, relief flooding her veins.

  “You have no idea, hun. Without treatment, it’s unlikely you’d have made it very far,” Sandy replied, patting Chas on her head. “Are you done eating yet?”

  Chas hurriedly swallowed the last of her sandwich with her tea and nodded. “I’m done.”

  “Follow me,” Sandy said, leading the way to a small bedroom with floral wallpaper and bedding. She indicated the bed. “Sit.”

  Chas obeyed, and Sandy propped up her leg on a cushion before leaving to fetch hot water, towels, and her medical kit. Emily was put to work removing the bandage and helping Chas out of her boots and jeans. Dean and Vanessa were told to wash the dishes, mop the kitchen floor, and chop wood, much to Chas’ amusement.

  “It’s more to keep them out of the way than anything else,” Sandy whispered with a smile. “Besides, I’m an old woman and could use the help.”

  With a sponge dipped in hot water, she bathed the dried blood from Chas’ leg until the wound was properly exposed. It looked as bad as it felt. Four puncture wounds and a tear decorated the shin while the flesh was bruised and swollen. It had stopped bleeding but now started leaking again as Sandy continued to cleanse the area.

  Chas bit on her lip as Sandy dug in deep, flushing out the holes and the cut with disinfectant until her whole leg was on fire. Once satisfied, Sandy put a fresh dressing on and bandaged it.

  “It’ll leave a scar,” Sandy said as she worked, her hands quick and practical.

  Chas didn’t mind and quipped, “Better than being a zombie.”

  After a tetanus and antibiot
ic shot each, Sandy handed Chas a few painkillers with a glass of water. “There. That should do it, hun. Now close your eyes, and get some sleep. You’ll be right as rain in no time at all,” Sandy commanded, and Chas, exhausted after everything, could do nothing but obey, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 11

  When Chas woke up, she was all sweaty, and no wonder when she was covered in several blankets despite it being summer. Tossing the covers off, she drank in the cool night air, her gaze taking in the faint moonlight streaming through the beige curtains. Faint snores emitted from a bulky figure sleeping in a chair next to the bed. She tried to push herself upright, but a wave of dizziness hit her, and she fell back down with a cry.

  The snores stopped abruptly, and a questing hand lit a lamp on the bedside table. It was Sandy. “What’s wrong, hun? You feeling all right?”

  “My leg,” Chas whispered, clutching the sheets as her eyes swiveled around the small bedroom. “It burns.”

  “Well, let me have a look.” Sandy unwrapped the bandage covering the injured limb. The flesh was all black and blue while the holes oozed a foul-smelling liquid. “Well, I told you yesterday, this is to be expected. Coyotes pack a nasty bite full of terrible bacteria, especially the zombie kind. I’ll just clean this up and give you another shot of antibiotics, okay?”

  Chas nodded. “Thanks, ma’am.”

  Sandy cleaned the wounds once more and wrapped the leg with a fresh bandage. Afterward, she gave Chas another injection of antibiotics and painkillers. “Can I get you anything else, hun?”

  “Can I have some water, please?” Chas asked, her mouth feeling like sandpaper.

  “Of course.”

  Sandy handed Chas a glass and helped her upright to drink it, her manner warm and motherly.

  As Chas lay back down, she looked at Sandy and asked. “Do you have any kids?”

  “I do, hun, but they’re all grown up and gone now, living their lives like God intended.”

  “You’re all alone? What about the zombies?”

  “Oh, they don’t bother me. Nobody even knows I’m up here, and I make sure the fence is strong and the gate locked. Besides, I’ve got protection. That’s what old Bessie is for.”