Once outside, I slid my arms into the straps of my backpack, pulled it up onto my shoulders, and decided I would head for home and call Tiff when I got there.
Everything around me was chaos.
Cars were randomly driving off the street and into other cars, fire hydrants, and even houses at full throttle.
People were yelling…and screaming close-by and from distances.
I ran as fast as my legs would take me…trying desperately to dodge everything dangerous around me.
Two blocks away from my house I got a bad stitch in my right side. I stopped where I was on the sidewalk, gasped for air, and half-bent over at the waist. I closed my eyes, tried to stay calm, and breathed with focused control.
I heard moaning to my left, and opened my eyes to see four…people stumbling toward me from across the street. They looked really messed up. They were all bleeding. One guy was missing an arm, another’s leg was broken, and the one woman was missing half of her face. The fourth…I couldn’t tell if they were male or female, their body was so messed up.
I stood up, the pain in my side gone.
My mind argued with what I knew I was seeing with my eyes.
Zombies, I thought. Honest to God, zombies!
“This is so messed up…” I muttered, frozen in place while I tried to process what I was seeing. I couldn’t believe it was true, even though the evidence was right in front of me.
A car came careening around the corner, its tires squealing because of the high speed it was traveling at. It fishtailed, straightened, and plowed into the shambling four in the middle of the road.
They flew into the air, tearing more flesh from bone, and limb from body. They landed with a sickening squish as the car veered off the road and plowed into a tree.
Only then did I notice the car was John’s and he was behind the wheel…looking somewhat similar to the zombies that had been coming for me.
I glanced at the bodies that had flown into the air… They were still trying to come for me. Their hands were still reaching for me, clawing the air with fervor. The ones that still had a bottom jaw snapped their jaws and gnashed their teeth together. One was dragging itself toward me with one arm connected by nothing but bloody sinew.
Zombie-John screeched and tried to get out of the car.
That sent me into motion. I resumed running and headed off down the street to my house. I was determined not to stop until I got home, no matter how much pain I was in – the stitch in my side returned almost as soon as I’d started running again.
I whimpered with each meeting of my feet to the pavement.
It felt like it took forever to go two blocks.
I saw many more of the zombies on my way, and they fueled my resolve to move through my pain.
When I reached my house, I almost cried out with joy to see that the door was slightly ajar, because I knew I wouldn’t have to take the time to find the key that was hidden under one of the rocks in front of the house. I could go on in.
I slammed into the door, opening it wide, grabbed ahold of it, and slammed it shut behind myself.
I slipped off my backpack, leaned back against the cool, painted surface, and let my body relax. I sucked lungful after lungful of air into my burning chest while I held my right side.
My hand slipped down as I slid to a sitting position on the floor, and I felt my cell phone in my front pocket.
“Tiff…” I breathed, pulled it out, and dialed her cell phone.
The phone rang and rang until her voicemail picked up.
“Hey,” I gasped, trying to leave a message, “this is Chips. I’m at home. Call me when you get this. Bye.”
I pressed “end” and focused on breathing again. I hoped she was okay. I felt bad, just going and leaving school like I did, without making sure she was okay. But I knew it was dangerous to stay and try to find her. She could have been anywhere and it could have taken forever to find her.
I jumped, startled, when my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen, noticed the call was from Tiff, and answered it.
“Where are you?” a frantic sounding Tiff asked.
“At home,” I said. “Sorry I took off, but things got scary.”
“Scary? No shit!”
“Where are you?” I asked. I could tell she was freaking out, but she sounded like she was trying to keep her voice down.
“I’m still at the school,” she breathed. “I’m hiding in one of the janitor’s closets. This place is a living nightmare!”
I could imagine how bad it had gotten after I’d left. When I’d bolted, I didn’t know we were in the zombie apocalypse. It wasn’t until those four zombies came after me that I actually realized what was happening. And that meant Brad was a zombie, John was a zombie, and even Stacy was a zombie by now. It was possible that most of the people at the high school – students and teachers – were now zombies.
I was glad I’d left, but I still felt bad about ditching Tiff. I was scared for her.
“You have to get out of there and get somewhere safe…as safe as possible anyway,” I said. “Outside is chaos too. There are zombies everywhere!”
There was a long pause as I waited for Tiff to respond.
“Did you say zombies?” she finally asked in a small voice.
“Yes,” I replied.
“That’s not freaking possible!”
“I know, but that’s what I saw on my way home. Honest to God zombies!”
There was another long pause.
“It’s hard to believe is all,” Tiff said. “But, that does explain a lot of what I’ve seen going on around here.”
I heard a loud bang, and Tiff screaming. The sound was up close then far away.
“Tiff?” I said. “Tiff!”
There was no reply.
Tiff’s screams ended.
I heard distant grunting, slurping, and crunching.
I knew it was too late. My phone slipped from my shaking, numb fingers and hit the hard, cold marble-tiled floor I was sitting on.
There was no doubt in my mind Tiff had been attacked by a zombie…and she hadn’t made it. The loss of my best friend was as hard to process as seeing zombies earlier had been. I felt shell-shocked, like this was all a bad dream I would wake up from… But somehow, deep down, I knew it was all true and real. Everything was too vivid. Everything was too strong to be just a figment of my twisted imagination. Besides, I’d more likely have a dream about clowns taking over the world than zombies. Clowns scared me more than anything, until now.
Shakily, I pushed myself up from the floor and took a couple steps forward.
“Mom!” I called out.
I hadn’t heard or seen anyone or anything since I’d come inside the house, but that didn’t mean something hadn’t happened to my mom.
I heard a sound coming from the kitchen, like someone had bumped into the shelf that stood against the wall, leading to the archway that led to the foyer, where I was.
“Mom,” I said again, taking a couple steps toward the archway. “Are you okay?”
I stopped dead in my tracks when Mom rounded the corner and I could see her.
Her hair was wild, her eyes were milky white, her mouth and teeth were reddish brown from half-dried blood, and her chest and shirt were red from the same blood. One of her arms was half-missing; from the elbow down, there was nothing. Her other arm was intact, and the fingers were also coated in half-dried blood. Her legs were fully intact, and it took her mere seconds to reach me.
I gasped, turned, and tried to flee.
She was too fast.
Zombie-Mom’s hand tangled in my ponytail.
She yanked me backwards.
I screamed as her teeth clamped down on the back of my neck.
Without thinking, I grabbed out around me for a weapon. My hand made contact with a heavy, crystal vase Mom kept fresh cut flowers in. I dumped them as I gripped the cool neck of the vase and swung it up and around, to hit Zombie-Mom in the side of
the face.
She screeched as she unclenched her jaw from my body.
I twisted and broke her grip on my hair.
Once I was free, I threw myself at the hall closet door, opened it, jumped inside, and closed it quickly behind me.
I sat sobbing, clutching the doorknob, praying zombies didn’t remember how to open doors.
I screamed the first few times Zombie-Mom threw herself against the door in an attempt to get in. I could hear her screeching, growling, and banging on the door. After I realized she couldn’t make it through the solid wood barrier, I relaxed a little. That’s when I felt the throbbing pain in my neck, where she’d bitten me.
I giggle hysterically, which brought on a fresh bought of aggression from outside the door.
“Why am I hiding?” I whispered to myself. “I’m dead anyway…or at least I’ll be a zombie in a little while.”
With that acknowledgement of my fate, I gave up hope. I let go of the doorknob, laid back on the pile of shoes and the coats/jackets I’d pulled off the hangers during my rushed entry, and closed my eyes. I sobbed uncontrollably, thinking about Tiff, my mom, and myself…
Pretty soon everything drifted away as the oblivion of sleep drew me into a deep hug.
Chapter Five
“What the hell?” a male voice shouted, waking me.
I opened my eyes and tried to remember where I was and what was happening. I was in a small, dark room. I couldn’t see anything other than vague shapes.
I reached out with my hands to investigate my surroundings and found shoes and coats.
They instantly reminded me where I was.
The door opened a crack, spilling in light from the foyer.
The light was super bright after the darkness; I had to blink a few times before I could focus on the concerned face of my dad peeking in at me.
He opened his mouth to speak when the door suddenly slammed shut again.
“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed.
A growl followed his words.
“Dad, Mom’s a zombie!” I screamed as loud as I could in my weakened state.
He didn’t reply.
I heard grunting, screeching, and mumbled words; they were too muffled to make them out.
After a few tense moments, something hit the outside of the closet door, hard. After the initial blow, there was constant screaming from my dad and numerous thuds against the door. After a time, there were some less aggressive thumps and all went quiet.
A lump formed in my throat. I was scared my dad was dead, that Zombie-Mom had killed him and I was going to die alone in the closet.
I gasped as there were a few more thumps against the door, but sighed in relief when it opened to reveal my dad.
He had blood on him and he was clutching the crystal candy dish that matched the crystal vase I’d grabbed earlier; it was completely coated in blood and thick, black goo.
“Are you okay?” I asked, getting up on all fours to crawl out of the closet.
He nodded, panting – he seemed too winded to speak.
“Did she bite you?” I asked, crawling out of the closet and standing with his help. I wavered and fell back against the wall as my head spun.
“No,” he breathed, still panting heavily from the exertion. “Are you okay?”
“She bit me,” I mumbled, looking around to see Zombie-Mom lying on the floor with black goo seeping out of the side of her head.
He frowned. “Let me see.”
I used the wall to brace myself and stay standing as I turned so he could see the back of my neck.
“Aw, honey,” he sighed.
I knew it was bad. The wound hurt terribly, and from the way I was feeling, I could tell I’d lost a lot of blood. Or I was turning into a zombie. I didn’t know for sure. I’d never been a zombie before, and I’d never bled this much at one time before either.
“I’m probably dying,” I said, and giggled, trying to make light of things.
“Don’t talk like that,” Dad said, hooking one of my arms around his neck and leading me to the front door. “We’ll get you help. Surely something can be done.”
I tried to hold back, to not go outside with him.
“It’s dangerous out there,” I complained.
“Yes, honey, it is,” he said gently, “but we have to get to the safe zone I heard about on the radio while driving home. We can’t stay here and it’s a long drive. We have to get going.”
“But…a zombie bit me,” I muttered, too weak to physically fight any longer. “I’m gonna turn into a zombie.”
“We’ll see,” is all he said as he opened the back door of his sedan and laid me across the back seat.
I fought to keep my eyes open as he climbed into the driver’s seat, shut the door, started the engine, backed out of the driveway, and then start to drive down the street.
As my eyes finally drifted shut, because the lids were too heavy to hold open any longer, I heard the sounds around us: the screeching of tires, the crackling of flames, screams, and moans. It all blended together in the nightmare of a new reality.
Chapter Six
I remembered bits and pieces of things: images, smells, tastes, and sounds. They all wove together in my brain to form a slideshow of chaos that seemed to be my existence for…I don’t know how long.
I came back to the full awareness of myself in a bedroom, in a house that I was not familiar with. It was a girl’s room. A girl that was years younger than me. I was scared to move even though I heard nothing alarming around me.
I was thirsty. I would kill for a glass of water.
I heard the door to the room open, so I closed my eyes quickly and pretend to be asleep.
Someone walked over to the bed I was lying on and just stood over me.
I chanced a peek while trying to keep my eyes as closed as possible, and was relieved to see the person was my dad.
I opened my eyes all the way and smiled at him.
“Hi, Dad…where are we?”
His face lit up when I spoke to him. The frown of worry that wrinkled his brow a moment before smoothed out and he smiled broadly.
“Oh, thank God!” he breathed, and fell to his knees beside me.
“Where are we?” I asked again. “Are we in the safe zone you mentioned?”
He shook his head “no,” while stroking my hair away from my face.
“I ran out of gas and needed to find a new vehicle,” he said. “We’re in a house…safe for now.”
“What about the owners?” I asked, trying to sit up. “Are they zombies?”
Dad shook his head. “Don’t get up. Most of the owners are gone. There’s a young man still here… I think we can trust him. If all goes well, he’ll be going with us to the safe zone as soon as you can travel.”
“You’re still taking me…? What if I turn into a zombie on the way or when we get there?”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Dad said with tears in his eyes. “You’re going to be okay.”
“What? How?”
“Chad – the young man – he was bitten by a zombie and didn’t turn into one. He thinks you might be like him. He thinks you’ll get over being sick and stay human, just like he did.”
“Weird…” I said, frowning. “So, we’re like immune or something?”
Dad shrugged. “I guess.”
I tried to speak again, but started coughing instead.
“Here, drink this,” Dad said, picking up half-empty bottle of water from the floor I hadn’t seen. He unscrewed the top and held it to my lips so I could drink. “Better?”
I nodded after drinking all the water.
“Are you hungry? You want some soup? I’ve been spoon-feeding you off and on when you’d let me…” He helped me sit up a bit and shoved pillows behind me.
I nodded again and he dashed off to get me food.
When he opened the door, there was a young man standing outside, in the hallway. I tried to remember his name.
His eyes
were a clear, light blue. He was almost as tall as my dad, but thin and obviously young. His hair was dark brown and a little bit long. He looked like the stoner kids from my school that kept to themselves and didn’t care about much. I didn’t know if it was a good thing to be placing our trust in someone who looked like they couldn’t handle responsibility.
But, then again, our options were limited, so I guessed we didn’t have any other choice.
“Hi,” I said instinctively.
“Hi,” he said, staring at me for a long moment.
I felt uncomfortable and tried to sit up straighter. I was sure I looked horrible. I wanted to at least look like I was worth saving.
“Check these and see what you think,” the guy said, handing my dad papers. “One is for me and one is for you.”
“What are they?” Dad asked, taking the papers.
“Plans for tomorrow, it would seem,” the guys said, and turned his attention to me with a smile. “You can take a shower – we still have electric so there’s hot water – and feel free to go through my mom’s clothes to find something to wear.”
“Sounds good,” Dad said, before handing one of the papers back. “When do you want to do all this?”
He returned his attention to my dad. “Tomorrow morning. “We’ll get some rest, get Elaine ready, and do everything in the morning. We should get to Washington Center tomorrow before dark.”
“How about we get you in the shower?” Dad said, turning back to me after the guy left. “Then we’ll see about getting some food in you.”
I nodded. “Okay. A shower does sound nice. I stink!” I wrinkled my nose, realizing just how bad I did stink as I tried to sit on the edge of the bed.
Dad laughed, laid the paper down on a white nightstand with a frilly, pink lamp, and helped me to my feet.
I groaned. Every inch of my being ached. I hoped there was plenty of hot water like the guy had said.
“What’s his name again?” I asked as we headed out into the hall. I felt weird thinking of him as “the guy.”
“Chad,” Dad said. “Why?”
“I just couldn’t remember,” I said. “He seems…nice.”
Dad chuckled. “Yeah, he does seem nice. If he wasn’t, we’d both be dead.”
Zpoc Exception Series (Book 2): Re-Civilize (Elaine) Page 3
