Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watched Brooke, noticing how her breasts rose and fell as she took each breath. Focusing back on the road, he tried to stop thinking about her and start thinking about survival. He was serious when he’d said they hadn’t seen the last of them; it was hard to tell how far the outbreak had reached.
Before long he saw the lights of the first store. Slowing, he turned into the parking lot. There weren’t many cars in the lot, but that wasn’t unusual for the time of night.
“You awake?” Sam asked gently as he pulled into a parking space.
Brooke smiled. “Yeah. Do you really think I could sleep right now?”
He laughed. “No, but I wasn’t sure.”
She sat up and looked out the windows at the almost empty lot and brightly lit store. “Do you think we’ll have any trouble here?”
“Not sure.”
“Well, I can’t go walking in there with this,” she said, holding up her gun slightly.
Sam frowned. He hadn’t thought of that. If the outbreak hadn’t made it this far, they would look strange wandering around with loaded guns, especially with blood on their clothes.
“What if I hide the pistol in my waistband? Do you even have any more ammo?”
Brooke dug in her pocket and pulled out a single shell. “Last one. How many shots do you have left?”
He frowned and slid the clip out, counting his bullets. “Two. That’s three shots between the two of us. We’d better make this a short trip.”
She nodded consent and got out of the truck, laying the shotgun down on the seat, thinking that if worse came to worse she could use it as a club. Joining Sam in front of the truck, she noticed his gun was now out of sight.
Together they walked to the store; the glass doors slid open with an electric hum to allow them entrance. An easy listening station was playing on the store’s intercom system. Other than that, the store was still and silent. Glancing at each other apprehensively, they stepped inside.
“I think they have ammo in the sporting good section,” Sam said in a hushed voice. “But it’s in the back of the store. If we encounter any zombies, it could get complicated.”
“Do you think we should split up? One of us could go for food and water, the other for ammo?”
He shook his head no. “I think we should stay together. We have a better chance that way.” He didn’t want to tell her that he was scared to let her out of his sight, not knowing if he would ever see her again. It had taken him too long to find a woman like her for him to take what seemed like stupid risks now.
She nodded and pulled a cart free from the row sitting inside the entrance.
“Let’s grab food and water on our way back to the sports section. Then if something does happen we’ll at least have what we need.”
They didn’t encounter anyone – or anything – as they progressed through the store, loading the cart full of things they thought they would need. They assumed the store was abandoned until they came to an aisle where the floor was completely covered with blood; hand prints and drag marks marred the otherwise perfect coating of dark red fluid.
Sam reached behind him and withdrew his pistol from his waistband, holding it in front of him at ready.
“Should we leave?” Brooke whispered anxiously. “We have what we came for. I think we should just go.”
Spinning in a circle and scanning around them, Sam shook his head.
“We haven’t seen anyone or anything yet – maybe they’re gone. I want to get some more ammo in case we need it before we get to my house. Without it we could end up dead.”
“We could end up dead if we push our luck here, too,” Brooke hissed, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.
Sam glanced at Brooke and observed her agitation.
“We’ll try really quick and then get the hell out of here, okay?” he asked, trying to do what was best for them and still try to consider her feelings about the situation. “I’d like to at least try.”
With a deep sigh and a pleading look, she nodded.
“Okay, but I hope we aren’t pushing our luck,” she said, glancing around nervously.
The quickest way from the part of the store they were in, to sporting goods, was to go past the meat counter. They didn’t think about it until they turned the corner and came face to face with fourteen zombies ripping through cellophane to get at the raw meat beneath, shoving it into their mouths by the fistful. Luckily the zombies were so intent on their meals that they didn’t even notice the humans standing a few feet away.
Slowly, trying not to make any noise that would draw the attention of the walking dead, Sam and Brooke backed up. They froze, their eyes going wide with panic, when a wheel on the cart squeaked. But at that exact moment, two of the zombies started fighting over a particularly juicy beef roast, growling and hissing at each other angrily, allowing Sam and Brooke to get out of sight before they were noticed.
“Shit!” Sam breathed. “Now we’ll have to go the long way.”
Rushing down the aisle and away from the zombies as fast as she could, Brooke looked back over her shoulder at Sam.
“You still want to try for the ammo?” she asked in disbelief.
“Why not?” he asked. “We know where they all are now, so we don’t have to be as careful.”
“I don’t like this,” she pouted. “I want to leave.”
Despite everything, Sam couldn’t help but notice how cute she was when she pouted and how much he wanted to suck on her soft pink lips.
“How about this . . .” he said, putting a swift end to his wayward thoughts. “We’ll leave the cart by the door and you can find something to use as a weapon. Then we’ll hustle to the ammo and get what we need and get out of here!”
Brooke huffed and her bottom lip stuck out even further.
“Fine,” she said, “but if we die it’s your fault!”
Sam growled from frustration. Not only was he becoming more and more sexually frustrated, but he was now frustrated at the logic of women! Of course she would have to throw that last comment in just because she could.
Sure, blame the man, Sam thought testily.
In no time at all they were on their way through the store with Sam holding his .45 in front of him like a cop clearing a building, and Brooke holding a can of aerosol spray and a lighter. While it wasn’t the best or safest form of self-defense, it was the deadliest combination at the front of the store. They’d looked for baseball bats and hockey sticks, but realized they too would be in the sporting goods section.
To their surprise, they made it to the back of the store, retrieved what they needed, and got out of the store and back on the road with no problems. Sam had been right. The zombies were all back at the meat counter.
“We’ll be at my place in ten minutes,” Sam said, ripping open a candy bar and taking a bite.
Brooke didn’t answer. She stared out the window watching the world go by while thinking about how everything had changed in such a short amount of time.
“You okay?” Sam asked, chewing loudly.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I know things are really messed up,” he said, swallowing. “But at least we have each other and aren’t facing this alone.”
Brooke shrugged and said, “I’m just having a hard time facing it period. Everything happened without warning; I wasn’t prepared.”
“Understandable,” he said. “You’ll feel better after you’ve had a shower and we come up with a plan.”
“I hope so,” she sighed.
Sam turned onto a back road and from that road turned onto another, weaving his way deeper and deeper into the woods. If there hadn’t been zombies everywhere Brooke might have been scared that he was going to do her harm, but since she knew being remote was safe right now, the darkness and uninhabited area gave her comfort.
They pulled up outside a nice double wide trailer with a small wooden deck, and came to a halt. Brooke looked out at the woods, scanning
for any movement that might give away a threat.
“It’s okay,” Sam said, laying his hand on her thigh, making her jump. “Nothing’s out there. We’re safe here.”
Brooke took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“You’re right,” she said. “I’m just paranoid. I guess my survival instincts are on overdrive!”
“Why don’t you go in and take a shower and then we’ll talk about what we’re going to do. I think we’ll be fine for tonight, but we might have to take turns on watch if we stay.”
She nodded, got out of the truck, went into the house, and found the bathroom. Quickly stripping, she stepped under the hot spray of the shower and tried to forget the last couple of hours.
Sam stayed outside while Brooke took a shower; he didn’t trust himself to be in the house while she was naked. While he was waiting, he walked around the perimeter of his property, checking to make sure they were indeed as safe as he’d assured Brooke they were. Everything looked fine and normal until he found Diane’s car parked a little ways from his house on a dirt road.
What the hell is she doing here? he wondered, hurrying back to the house.
He stepped through the front door and was half-turned to shut it when a flash of blonde hair caught his eye. He spun sharply to see Diane lunging for him from behind the grill on his porch. He hadn’t seen her before he’d left to check the perimeter, so he assumed she’d found her way there while he’d been gone.
He tripped over his own feet in his haste to defend himself, falling on the floor. She landed on top of him. In the distance, he heard the shower turn off and breathed a sigh of relief knowing Brooke was still safe.
Looking up at the zombie on top of him, it was hard to believe she’d ever been a beautiful woman. Parts of her face were missing and her lips were pulled back in a hostile snarl. She was stronger than he anticipated and while he tried to reach his gun that he’d again tucked into the waistband of his jeans, she managed to scratch his wrist – it was a deep scratch. Blood shot out from his ruptured artery and sprayed all over the living room as they rolled and tussled.
Diane purred deep in her throat while she bent forward and sucked at the wound.
Sam grew weak and he knew he was going to meet his end soon. He wanted to warn Brooke and tell her to get out of the house, but blackness soon overcame his vision and he felt cold as his spirit left his body.
***
Hunger burned within Sam as his eyes opened. The world looked different somehow. He smelled blood. Fresh, hot blood and he wanted it.
Shoving his fellow zombie off of him, he sat up and pushed himself to stand.
Sniffing the air, he located the source of the first meal he would enjoy in his undead life.
Stumbling down the hall, he surprised the woman who came out of the bathroom.
Grabbing her roughly by the hair he sank his teeth into her warm flesh.
She gasped and something about the smell and sound of her caused a distant memory of another hunger to course through his dead brain, but it was forgotten as her sweet blood ran down his throat. Nothing else mattered. Only the blood, only the flesh, only the meal.
About the story from Rebecca Besser:
“My Kind of Woman first appeared in the Book of the Dead 6 anthology in 2010, from Living Dead Press. I wrote this story for my husband. I mixed aspects of our personalities and lives into the characters and other details of the story. I also based the story in the area of Ohio where we live.
My husband was upset that I didn’t give the story a happy ending.”
EVIL MOUNTAIN
By Rebecca Besser
The darkness thickened as Hinun moved deeper into the forest. There was no sound except his steps and panting breath. He’d been on the trail for days, searching for his missing father, hoping that he’d find him alive. But, with each passing day, his hope slowly died.
Yesterday he’d found Father’s bow. It had been lying beside a tree. The bow was broken, the wood splintered and scared with teeth marks. Hinun didn’t know what might have made the marks, as they were large and deep, almost going completely through the handle of the long bow.
There had been blood on the string – dried blood, dark brown from the passage of time. If it had been red and wet, Hinun would still have some expectancy of finding Father alive, but not now. It had been too long.
After searching for another day, finding nothing more, Hinun headed home. When he arrived, he would tell his mother and his sister that all hope was lost.
***
Kilna watched for her son’s return. She was cared for him and for his father, whom he’d gone in search of. She’d been against the whole thing. If her husband wasn’t coming back she didn’t see any point in risking her son as well.
She hung wet laundry out on the line, the thick woven cord scraping against her palm and chaffing her fingers. The cold wind that was blowing down from Evil Mountain didn’t help. Winter would be upon them soon and they weren’t ready. It seemed each year the cold season was coming sooner. Everyone blamed the witch. She lived high in the snowy peaks of Evil Mountain, and she was evil herself. But she wasn’t the only creature of evil intent that lived in that harsh environment. There were many strange beasts that dwelled there. That’s how the mountain got its name.
Catching a movement by the path that lead to the forest, Kilna turned her head sharply, her heart leaping with hope. But it fell again as she saw that it was only five-year-old Duna chasing a cat around the yard.
“Duna,” Kilna called gently, “don’t play so close to the woods. It’s not safe, darling.”
Duna looked up with a defiant light in her dark blue eyes. “I want kitty.”
Kilna smiled. “Yes, I know you want the kitty, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Duna looked from her mother to the cat and huffed. She turned and stomped back into the yard, toward the cottage. She plopped her butt on the sandstone step in front of the door.
Kilna bit back a grin as she watched her daughter pout. When she crossed her little arms and frowned, Duna looked like her father. Thinking of Jotan brought a frown to Kilna’s brow as well; she wondered once again what misfortune had befallen her husband and caused him not to return.
Kilna and Duna feed the chickens, the goat, the cow, and the pig before heading to the cottage for the night. It was wise to be inside before dark, you never knew what would be lurking in the shadows of the woods.
***
Hinun had made it halfway to his farm before he noticed the faint noises behind him. There was definitely something following him. But, whatever it was, it was staying far enough behind him that he couldn’t see it.
When he started walking, he could hear shuffling behind him. He could hear low moans on the wind that sent shivers down his spine.
After crossing a shallow river, Hinun decided to see what was there, if anything. He sometimes thought it was his imagination playing tricks on him. There were many tales of men driven mad by spending too much time in the shadow of Evil Mountain.
He made his way up the steep, fern-covered bank, and paused as if looking for a deer path in the foliage in front of him, and heard a moan.
Without looking behind him, Hinun advanced into the forest, letting the branches of the trees hide him with their leaves. He walked a good ten yards before he hopped over a bush, off the path he’d been following, and circled back to the river. Whoever or whatever was following him had been keeping their distance, so he knew he had time.
Hinun sat between the roots of a large weeping willow a few yards up the bank from where he’d crossed earlier. The fronds cast enough shadows to conceal him, but they were far enough apart that he could see through them clearly.
Sitting still like he was hunting deer, he waited and watched, ignoring his body’s discomfort.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Not twenty minutes after sitting down, the brush on the opposite side of the bank began to shudder, like there was a s
trong breeze. There was no wind that day, so Hinun knew it for what it was. Something was out there, making it move.
He sat tense, holding his breath and drawing his bow, ready to let an arrow fly as soon as any threat presented itself.
A pale hand came through and held the bushes and ferns aside, as a hunched over man came stumbling out of the woods. His head was bent at an odd angle and he moaned and winced with each step.
Hinun watched the man stumble down the bank and fall into the water. He struggled to stand once again. Something about him was familiar. He finally figured out that it was the man’s clothes. They were his father’s clothes!
Pulling to full draw, Hinun almost let go of the bow string when the strange man turned and he got a glimpse of his face.
“Father,” Hinun breathed, relaxing his shoulder. The bow went limp in his hands and the arrow fell to the sand at his feet.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His father was alive.
After the shock passed, Hinun jumped up and went running, splashing through the water to his father.
“Father!” he yelled, throwing his arms around him.
***
Jotan didn’t respond at first, when a young man embraced him with enthusiasm. His mind was cloudy. Ever since the battle he hadn’t been able to think straight. The strange wolfman and the staggering ghoul had seemed to come out of nowhere and he wasn’t at all prepared for what had happened next.
He’d just made camp for the night when the strange pair stepped into the light cast by his small cooking fire. He’d grabbed his bow and shot the ghoul with it, but it didn’t seem to bother him, he just kept stepping drunkenly forward.
The wolf, standing on its back legs, at least ten feet tall, had taken his bow and broken it. Jotan had bent down to retrieve his hunting knife from his boot and the ghoulish creature had bitten him, ripping off a chunk of flesh.
He remembered stabbing the ghoul in the mouth with his blade as it dove for another bite; it had fallen limp and dead to the ground. But, there was still the werewolf.
Zombies Inside Page 6
