Dying Days [Book 9]

by Armand Rosamilia

  Darlene knew he thought she was still too powerful. It made her smile to know, after all he’d thrown at her, he still wasn’t ready to fight.

  She tossed a fireball down the beach, pulling it back like it was on strings so it didn’t travel too fast. She shook it from side to side as it moved at waist level, setting zombies on fire.

  Those too waterlogged would have to be dealt with after.

  Most of the zombies in the front of the pack were ablaze and those behind kept coming, setting themselves on fire.

  Darlene was bored already.

  She kept looking around, expecting her son to appear. Maybe even try to get the jump on her and attack when she was busy.

  It was nothing but more zombies filtering in from all sides now.

  Thousands.

  All suddenly aware of her presence.

  Darlene laughed again. “You’re draining your own power calling them to attack me. The second you break contact they’ll go back to believing I’m one of them. As long as I keep destroying them, you can use less power to control. I get it. Guess what? I’m not playing this game.”

  She let the zombies get to within a few feet of her on the beach.

  Her son was using so much energy to control them.

  Was he using more than she was?

  Darlene waited until she could’ve reached out and touched a zombie before jumping up into the air and shooting down the beach, south, to an empty stretch.

  “Now do you want to face me or are you still thinking you’ll do it this way?” Darlene asked.

  The zombies down the beach turned and started coming in her direction.

  Could he really be this stupid, to waste all this energy? It made no sense.

  Darlene sighed.

  Unless it wasn’t his energy.

  He was controlling the smart zombies to do his bidding. They, in turn, were commanding the rest of the zombie population to attack her.

  Now it made sense.

  I used to wonder whether I got my smarts from, my mother or father. I’m beginning to figure it out.

  “Why are you scared?” Darlene asked.

  Fear is not an emotion I have. Most of my emotions are fabricated. I can switch them in and out at will. Would you like to see me cry? Feel joyous and sing? You do not want to see my full wrath and anger, mother.

  “I want to see you. I want to face you. Act like the man you’ll never be able to become. Throwing minions at me isn’t going to do much damage and you know it. You’re stalling. Why?”

  Because this is bigger than you and me, mother. I guess I also got your ego along with the smarts. My ultimate goal was never to simply defeat you; although, it is going to be a bonus.

  Darlene waited for him to continue but he paused.

  “I’ll play this game: tell me why you’re doing this.”

  I already told you. Several times. I’m setting into motion the end of the world.

  The zombies stopped marching down the beach in her direction and began to scatter.

  Out of the pack strode dozens of zombies, all with weapons and a look in their eyes Darlene knew too well.

  This was another attack and the smart ones were in the vanguard.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Bernie took the right side of the door and Profit was to the left, a few feet back and covering her.

  She stepped up to the door, expecting to get shot, and, at first, didn’t understand what she was seeing.

  A rotting body, skeletal hands still gripping a shotgun, was sprawled out inside the store.

  Mitch took a step closer and looked at Bernie. “You think it’s a trap? Check the door for explosives.”

  Bernie laughed. “Did I tell you I was a demolition expert? I worked in a mine?”

  “I don’t think so. I know I can’t tell.”

  She sighed. “Cover my ass.”

  “Gladly.”

  Bernie laughed. She got close to the door without touching it. She’d watched enough movies and TV shows to figure out wires taped to the inside of the door or a giant bright red brick of dynamite with ACME written on the duct tape holding it up was what she was looking for.

  “I don’t see anything that could go boom,” she finally said.

  “You don’t sound confident.”

  Bernie stepped aside and swept her hand at the door. “Please. Be my guest.”

  “If we knock out the glass, whoever is inside will hear us.”

  “Unless he’s the only one.”

  Profit shook his head. “I doubt it. This fool tried to rob them and they set him up as a warning.”

  “Then why give him a shotgun? I can see a box of ammo in his jacket pocket and see it’s full. Trying to scare people away is one thing but leaving perfectly good weapons and ammo so people will break in makes no sense.” Bernie put her hand on the door.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Before we go making a lot of noise…” She tugged on the door and for a moment she thought it as locked but it was just stuck.

  It swung open.

  “This is too easy,” Profit said.

  “Weren’t you babbling about good luck not too long ago? This is it.” Bernie took a step inside and looked at the door frame. “I don’t see wires or anything.”

  “Be careful with the body. It could be booby-trapped.”

  “You said booby.” Bernie was stressing and wanted to joke and feel safe for once. Right now she felt like her heart was going to jackhammer from her chest and fall on the dead guy.

  Bernie bent down and carefully pulled the shotgun from his hands. She searched his pockets and found shells as well as two large knives, a set of keys, his wallet, a flashlight that still had some juice and a walkie-talkie that had died. It looked like he’d been dead for at least a week.

  “I’ll lead,” Profit said.

  “I’m not a damsel in distress. Cover my six.” Bernie aimed the flashlight on the ground, scanning a few feet in front of her.

  If anyone was anywhere near the front of the store, they’d already know Bernie and Profit had entered.

  Bernie walked into the store and her breath caught in her throat.

  The aisles were full.

  Power had gone out a long time ago but it didn’t look like anything had been looted.

  She saw racks of clothing, melted candy bars at the registers, and empty shopping carts.

  “There has to be someone alive guarding all this. We need to find them,” Profit said.

  “We should do a loop around the outskirts of the aisles. Stick together, though. If we separate, one of us will get caught by a gun-wielding maniac and force the other to drop their weapon to prove they love them,” Bernie said.

  “You love me.”

  Bernie chuckled. “You have quite the ego.”

  “Clockwise or counterclockwise?”

  “Clock.” Bernie made sure she got ahead of Profit. Just because she also had an ego and she was also blushing because she’d said something about love.

  Bernie shone the flashlight ahead. The store was dark with all the doors and windows covered. She didn’t want to chance wandering down an aisle, light on the ground, and a zombie stepping out from between the new Fall coats.

  I need a new pair of boots and sneakers, she thought as she passed the shoe department. A bra and panties that fit would be nice, too. I hope they have my jean size.

  She could see Profit was also eyeing the shoes.

  While there were a few empty boxes, they were piled neatly at the end of the aisle. The store was clean. It looked like it had been swept not too long ago and, as they got the middle of the outer wall, she saw a full garbage can and a broom.

  The garbage smelled really bad.

  Profit moved a couple of rows away from Bernie as they walked so she shone the light back and forth.

  At the next intersection, they came to the fitting rooms.

  Profit nodded. They both knew they needed to check them. If there was someone hiding,
the worst thing would be to let them get behind them.

  The fitting room doors were all closed and locked.

  “Try the keys you found,” Profit said.

  Bernie went through the key ring and found a group of smaller keys. The third one opened the door.

  The fitting room was empty.

  No piles of clothing. No dead bodies. Not even a stray clothes hanger.

  Bernie checked the rest while Profit covered her but they were all clean and empty.

  Profit took the lead as soon as they started walking the perimeter again and he did it with a grin because he’d gotten ahead of her.

  As he walked, he stuck out his hand and swiped a pair of athletic socks from a rack.

  Bernie walked close to him and shone the light at a store that looked like it was simply closed for the evening.

  While there were certain displays that had been pilfered, for the most part it was full.

  They kept following the back wall through the entertainment section.

  Bernie nearly cried when she saw all the CD’s they could grab for the Jeep. DVD systems they should be able to plug into the vehicle, too.

  We can watch movies, she thought.

  The book section was also full and Profit slowed down, scanning the titles as Bernie’s flashlight beam skipped across the racks.

  “We’re set as long as we’re alone,” Profit whispered.

  At the back of the store, in the camping and furniture section, tents had been erected. It looked like dozens of people had once lived in this store.

  Now it was corpses.

  Something awful had happened to these people.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  By the time April recovered and ran back outside, she heard shots from above. Her mother was firing, too.

  Tosha was at the edge of the property, feet in the sand, shooting at hundreds of zombies.

  Hundreds.

  April opened fire, trying to clear the monsters on Tosha’s left. Mitch took out a few on her right.

  “Pull back,” Mitch yelled.

  Tosha took a step back, fired, and repeated the moves until she was next to them.

  April’s mother had taken down quite a few zombies but there were still too many.

  The house wasn’t secure. There was no way they could move her father without killing him. April knew, despite his joking and the smile, he was in a lot of pain and there was nothing to dull it.

  Mimzie met them on the back deck. “I’m not getting trapped in an upstairs room again. I’d rather face them like this.”

  “Agreed.” April fired until her weapon ran out.

  “We don’t have enough ammo to do a dent. We need to go before they surround us,” Mitch said. “We can even it up a bit inside the house but there’s only a couple of hallways, and even they’re too wide. No way can we stop them like this.”

  Tosha ran past them towards the front door.

  Mimzie ran to her husband, still lying on the floor.

  “Can you keep the noise down? I was trying to get in a power nap before my triathlon.” Mister Hand was smiling but he looked weak.

  April reloaded her weapon and stood between the back door and her father.

  Mitch came up next to her. “You know we’re all dead if we stay in this house.”

  “I can’t leave my father.” April tried to fight the tears.

  “Everyone do me a favor and go away. I need to sleep. Get lost. Go find another house to hang out in,” her father said.

  April turned back to see her mother, crying, hugging April’s father.

  Her dad made eye contact and smirked. “Don’t let this be another time you don’t follow my advice. I can’t move. If I live another couple of hours, I’ll be amazed.”

  “We’re not leaving you.” Mimzie wiped her eyes. “I’ll stay.”

  “And you’ll die and I can’t have that on my conscience.” Mister Hand coughed and turned his head, spitting blood. “Besides, I need you alive so I can haunt you.”

  “April and the rest are leaving. I’m not. Not up for discussion, either. You know you want me by your side to nag and tell you what you’re doing wrong,” Mimzie said to her husband.

  The zombies could be heard in the backyard, crunching through the weeds and onto the back deck.

  “It’s all clear out front but they’re coming down the street. We have about five minutes before we’re surrounded,” Tosha said from the front of the house. “We need to go.”

  Mitch looked at April. “I understand. I really do. But in a few minutes we no longer have a choice. I’m going and I want you with me.” He walked away and stood next to Tosha at a respectful distance.

  Mister Hand put up his arms and Mimzie and April gripped them.

  “You need to leave. Right now. No arguing. The worst thing you can do to me is be here when they enter the house. I need you both to promise me you’ll live. Go with Carlie and just run. Get away from this madness.” He started coughing again, a long fit. He turned his body to the side and grimaced as more blood trickled from his lips. “Promise me.”

  Mimzie checked her weapon for ammo and looked at April. “You need to go with Carlie. Make sure she’s safe. Go.”

  “I’m not leaving without you.” April could see the zombies entering the house from the back door. “I’ll stay and fight.”

  “Honey, there is no fight. There’s only death in this home. I’ll kill as many as I can but saving two bullets. I don’t want you to have to see this so go,” Mimzie said.

  April shook her head.

  “Give me your gun. If we raised such a stupid kid, I’d like to shoot her in the head.” Mister Hand wasn’t smiling anymore. “For once, do what you’re told. Live, April.”

  April turned to see Mitch staring at her, pleading with his eyes to hurry up so they weren’t trapped.

  “I love you both. You’re the worst and best parents ever.” April kissed her mother on the cheek and then her father. “What do I tell Carlie?”

  “The truth. I got to my feet and using only a pencil I took out fifty zombies before my wounds were too great. Write a ballad about me while you’re at it,” her father said.

  “Still a joker.” April stood and nodded.

  “Go before you over think this. We’ll be fine.” Her mother stood and stared at the zombies coming at them. “Kiss Carlie for us.”

  April walked to Mitch and Tosha, who both looked uncomfortable.

  She heard shooting behind her as they left the mansion, jogging down the long driveway.

  Zombies were in the road but the bulk of them weren’t close enough yet to get in their way.

  As April got to the end of the driveway, she didn’t hear any more shooting from inside.

  She turned back and heard two quick shots, and then silence.

  Chapter Forty

  The zombies had to know they had no chance against Darlene, but they still came at her like they did.

  She almost felt sorry for them. They’d managed to survive this long and had regained their thoughts and intelligence. They’d survived through cunning and not getting destroyed when they were mindless creatures who couldn’t dodge a bullet or run away from overwhelming odds.

  Like The Lich Lord, they wanted to carve out their own little kingdoms. Whether they were truly evil and trying to enslave what was left of mankind, or eventually seeing they needed man to survive, the smart zombies were evolving and becoming individuals again.

  Her son had rounded them up like a herd of cattle and tossed them in her direction, knowing Darlene would waste precious power to kill them.

  Ending their dreams.

  Darlene felt closer to these zombies than to mankind now. Their motivations and powers she could understand.

  It wouldn’t stop her from destroying all of them, though.

  They fanned out around her in a circle.

  Darlene let them.

  It really didn’t matter what coordinated attack they tried. In the end, she’d tak
e them all down. She needed to do it without using too much of her power. That was going to be the key.

  Darlene shot backwards, spinning at the last second and punching through a zombie’s skull with her fist. While it used up some energy, using her hands was the way to go for as long as she could.

  The zombies closed the gap and she felt the pinpricks of energy dancing on her spine.

  Darlene wasted more power putting up a shield as several zombies used their own meager powers to attack at once.

  She grabbed another zombie who was trying to backpedal and easily ripped off his head off.

  Two zombies grabbed her arms and she tossed them away like they were nothing.

  “What’s the point of this little exercise? You don’t honestly think they can defeat me. You don’t really think I’ll waste my powers on them, either,” Darlene said.

  She got her hands on two zombies, who were fast but not faster than she was, and slammed their heads together until they were nothing more than brain matter and gore in her hands.

  Before she killed the next one, she wiped her hands on its shirt.

  While you fight these minions, the rest of the zombie horde has found your last survivors.

  “Bullshit.” Darlene tried to remain calm as she danced back and forth, taking out a random zombie as they tried to toss energy at her. They were hurting her but not much.

  A million paper cuts, she thought. Eventually they’ll destroy me. It might take a hundred years but they all had time now.

  More importantly: was her son bluffing? Had he found survivors?

  The group you thought you’d led away. Down the beach. They split into two factions because, even in these dark times, humans can’t help themselves. They still try to dominate one another. Kill one another.

  “Forgive me if I don’t take your word on it,” Darlene said. She knew he wasn’t bluffing. Two groups? What had happened so soon after she’d sent them on their way, thinking they’d be safe?

  She imagined the Hands had gone one way and everyone else another, but who was going where right now? And how many zombies had been sent to kill them?