Love in the Age of Zombies (Book 2): Zombies in Paradise

by James K. Evans

  As it began to get light, Don peeled back a small part of the foil covering the back door window and looked out. He could see where the man had been digging. The place where he put some plants in the ground. A flat of sprouts made him think the man hadn’t finished the job. Don always finished his job. When the man came back, Don would teach him a lesson and then find Ms. Tracy. That was his job today. He always finished his job.

  He stepped back into the shadows and every few minutes looked out the window again, waiting for the man to come back. Matey prowled around the house, never far from Don.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Doc awoke to the sound of water being poured into the kettle. A few minutes later he heard Michelle pour hot water into the French press. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafted over him and he roused himself. Slipping on his jeans, he quickly folded his linens and leaned the mattress against the wall and out of the way before joining Michelle in the kitchen. She had a pensive look on her face.

  “Good morning my dear,” he said, pouring two cups of coffee and handing her one. “Sleep well?”

  Michelle took the cup from him and took a sip. “I . . . ” she paused and started over. “Something weird happened last night. I was worried about Kevin. You already know that. My intuition told me something was wrong. I woke up in the middle of the night and there was a man in the bedroom.”

  “Someone in the room with you? That’s impossible. He would have had to break in and get past me. I’m not a heavy sleeper. And I can assure you that I wasn’t in your room!”

  “He was sitting on the end of the bed. I could plainly see him even though the walls had lost most of their glow.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “He looked to be a teenage boy, maybe fifteen or so.”

  Doc took another sip of his coffee with a furrowed brow. “What did he do?”

  “He told me Kevin was okay and would be home today. He told me not to worry and to go back to sleep. I fell back asleep. When I woke up he was gone. But the strange thing is, I wasn’t scared when I saw him.”

  “Sometimes we have a dream so real we believe it actually happened. But they’re just dreams. Are you tempted to think it was a vision? I’m a practical man. I think you had a strange dream. It would be unwise for us to try and make anything more of it than that.”

  “But it didn’t seem like a dream. It felt real.”

  “It was a dream, Michelle. A strange dream, but nothing more and nothing less.” Doc’s tone was conversational, not authoritarian or condescending.

  “Normally I’d agree with you, but when I got up, this was on the bed.” She held her fist out for Doc to see and slowly uncurled her fingers. Nestled in her palm was a small and lovely Petoskey stone. “This is Kevin’s. He always keeps it in his pocket. He took it with him.”

  “What do you mean he took it with him? It’s probably a different rock. He has a lot of them, right? You probably just didn’t notice it before today.”

  “When I got up I made the bed. It was in the sheets. I would have felt it before now.” She looked at the fossil, trying to make sense of it.

  After a few seconds, Doc said “It does seem rather odd. I hope your elusive visitor was right. We can ask Kevin about the stone if he—when he gets here today. In the meantime, I need to check the grow room and then get the rest of the plants in the ground.”

  “I was thinking I’d grab a few more things from my old house today too, since you’ll be over there. I’d like to bring over the rest of the wine, more clothes and maybe some of my artwork. Kevin never was much on decorating, and this place could use some sprucing up. It needs a woman’s touch.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Doc said, finishing his cup of coffee. “Right now I’d like one more cup of coffee and maybe even a Pop-Tart if we have any strawberry left. It’s not bacon and eggs, but it’s breakfast.”

  He poured himself a second cup of coffee, warmed Michelle’s cup with the rest of the pot, then went into the storeroom to look for a box of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Even though Matey couldn’t see out the uncovered section of window, his other senses worked fine. His ears suddenly perked up and he gave a small growl. His tail was still and he stood at alert. Seconds later Doc entered Don’s narrow field of vision. Heart beating faster, he watched the man. He wanted to wait until the man was concentrating on the plants with his back to the door. Then he was going to sic Matey on him. He waited five, ten, fifteen minutes. He was reaching for the doorknob when he heard another low growl from Matey. Ms. Tracy entered his field of vision. Don stopped, his hand grasping the doorknob.

  As Kevin drove, he fantasized about a possible romantic scenario with Michelle. Having been sick, he desperately wanted a shower; perhaps that's the excuse he could use. And perhaps Michelle could, you know, help out in the shower. Make sure he was clean. He definitely wanted to get out of his contaminated clothes before coming into contact with either Doc or Michelle.

  He was cruising along, lost in thought, when he rounded a corner and ran smack into a zombie shambling down the road. As he ran over the body with a loud thump! he heard a scraping sound he didn't like. A half-mile later, he heard the telltale rumble of a flat tire and the steering wheel began to shudder. Shit, he thought, just what I need.

  He stopped the Jeep, got out of the cab and surveyed the fields lining the road. The only zombies in sight were at least a half-mile away, and they were on the other side of the fence. He could safely change the tire long before they were anywhere near, and he doubted they could climb the fence even if they got close. He walked around the Jeep; sure enough, the right rear tire was flat. The zombie must have had a knife or a screwdriver or something in its pocket. He opened the hatch and moved everything to get to the spare tire. Fortunately Doc had a full-sized spare; Kevin hated those little temporary tires that came with most cars these days. He remembered to set the parking brake and swapped the flat tire with the spare. He hadn’t regained his strength yet; changing the tire was exhausting.

  Looking around again, he saw he was right; no zombie had gotten even half-way closer. He put the flat tire back in the Jeep, then repacked and went on his way. Another half-hour wasted before I get reacquainted with Michelle, he thought ruefully. If I get another flat I’m screwed—or not screwed as the case may be.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Michelle was carrying a laundry basket. She joined Doc and he took a few minutes to explain his system. “Square foot gardening makes very efficient use of the space, much more than traditional gardening,” he finished. “But anyway, what’s with the basket?”

  “I thought I’d hang these clothes out. I haven’t done that in a while and it’ll be nice to let them dry in the open air. Downstairs is getting too stifling. At some point I’d like to open the house and get some fresh air downstairs. But meanwhile, once the clothes are hung to dry I’m going to go see how much stuff I want to bring over,” she said, nodding towards the house.

  Just inside the back door, Don stepped back as Michelle nodded in his direction. Ms. Tracy knows I’m here! he thought. But when she took the laundry basket over and began to pin clothes to the line, Don sighed in relief. He didn’t want to deal with her yet, just the old man. He stepped into the shadows of the living room and kept an eye on the back door.

  As Michelle hung the clothes to dry, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and a cold chill ran down her spine. She involuntarily shivered. Doc happened to glance at her just as she shuddered, and said “Getting cold? Would you like me to get you a sweater!”

  Looking around, Michelle said “I’m not cold. But something feels strange. It’s probably just my imagination, but it feels like we’re being watched.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Doc replied, “I’ve felt that way several times. I’m not sure we’re alone.” Michelle took a long look around, then went back to hanging up the clothes. Even as she concentrated on the task, she stayed awa
re of her surroundings. As she finished hanging up the last towel, she stretched and said “I’m going to take a look inside the house. If I need you I’ll let you know.”

  “Want me to go in in the house with you?” Doc said with concern.

  “It was clear when we left it and it doesn’t look like anyone’s broken in, so I can’t imagine how it could be unsafe. If I have any trouble I’ll holler.” She walked towards the back deck.

  Doc began loosening the soil with a spade, but his revolver kept getting in the way. He took off the holster and placed it on the grass, then spading.

  Kevin was now passing through Chelsea. Other than a few zombies, it seemed deserted. The Jiffy Cornbread silos stood mute, the colors of their once-bright logos having faded a bit since it was last painted. The town’s ornate clock tower indicated the time was 3:06, which was wrong of course. Kevin figured it would be 3:06 in Chelsea, Michigan for a very long time. Fifteen more minutes and I’ll be home, he mused.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Michelle stepped into the dim light of the kitchen. Coming in from the bright sunlight, the relative darkness of the house gave her pause. She stood inside the door for a moment letting her eyes adjust, briefly noticing the small patch of foil that had been removed from the window. That’s strange, I don’t remember doing that, she thought as she walked into the living room to consider the artwork hanging on the walls. I should have brought a flashlight! she realized. As she stepped into the room, she heard a low growl. Before she even had time to react, Don grabbed her from behind and wrapped his hands over her mouth as he held her head against his chest.

  “Shh . . . “ he said as she struggled to break free. He grabbed one of her arms and twisted it painfully behind her back. “You shouldn’t be here, Ms. Tracy,” he said. “You should be at school! In your room!” As Michelle squirmed and fought, his grip over her mouth and neck grew tighter and the pull on her arm more painful. Don suddenly jerked her arm much higher and she let out a muffled scream of pain against his palm. “That was just to show you how strong I am. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to know your secret.”

  He pulled her backwards into the kitchen and flung open the back door. “Sic ‘im, Matey!” he commanded. With a vicious snarl, Matey raced out the door and leapt down the steps toward Doc.

  Don dragged Michelle backward through the living room and into the bedroom. He roughly pushed her onto the bed, facedown, and then put his knee into her shoulders. With her face smashed into the mattress she couldn't breathe.

  “You shouldn’t be with that man. You should be at the school. You shouldn’t show him your secret. Last time I messed up my secret. I didn’t do it right. I want you to show me the right way, like in the pictures.” As he said this, he pulled off his belt and tied her wrists painfully tight behind her back. When he turned her over she could finally breathe and began to scream. Don backhanded her face, hard, stunning her into silence.

  “You need to be quiet, Ms. Tracy. Secrets have to be quiet. Nobody is supposed to know.”

  Through bleeding and swelling lips, Michelle whispered “Listen. I’m not Ms. Tracy. You’re confused. Let me go!”

  Don backhanded her again. “Mom always said a liar was the worst kind of sinner,” he said, “you shouldn’t lie, Ms. Tracy! You’ll go to hell! Or the gymnasium!”

  With a desperate look in her eyes, Michelle began to plead with him. “Listen, you have to believe me. You’re mixed up. I’m not Ms. Tracy. My name is Michelle. You’re confused. Think about it! I’ve never seen you before!”

  Don didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was staring at her breasts. “Your titties are a lot bigger! I like big titties!” he said. He pulled a knife out of the sheath attached to his belt and quickly sliced open her shirt, spread it wide, then sliced her bra up the middle. Her breasts came spilling out even as she struggled to get up. Every movement of hers caused them to move and jiggle. Don grinned. “Wow! I like them bigger!” He reached out and tentatively patted her nipples. His secret was hard. He felt strong.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  When Doc heard the back door open he turned with a smile, expecting to see Michelle. Instead, Matey came hurtling toward him. He leapt for his revolver, but before he could reach it Matey latched onto his left foot and wrenched back, trying to pull Doc to the ground. Doc knew if he fell he was in deep trouble. He swung the spade at Matey, striking the dog just behind the ears. Matey yelped and jumped back, teeth bared, barking and snarling. Doc backed away as Matey advanced toward him, angling for the maple tree twenty feet away. Keeping the spade between him and the dog, twice the dog feinted in and twice Doc repelled him. When he was ten feet from the tree, Doc flung the spade at the dog, sprinted the short distance to the trunk, and pulled himself up the lowest hanging branch. Matey was fast, though, and latched onto his left leg, tearing through the jeans and into the flesh of his calf. Doc let out an involuntary yell, then aimed his right boot squarely at the dog’s nose, connecting with a satisfying crunch. The dog yelped and lost his grip on Doc’s leg. Doc pulled himself up and into the tree, out of reach. Matey barked furiously, crouched at the trunk of the tree, blood dripping from his injured nose and over his snarling teeth. Doc thought Trapped like a treed ‘coon! His next thought was Michelle! Where’s Michelle?! He saw movement out of his peripheral vision and turned, fearful of what he would see.

  It was Doc’s Jeep. Kevin pulled into the driveway.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Kevin turned onto his street and spied his house six doors down. Home again home again, jiggity-jig he thought, a smile on his lips. It seemed like months had passed since he’d been home. Pulling into the driveway, he couldn’t help but wish he had a welcoming committee, but of course they had no way of knowing he’d arrived.

  He turned off the Jeep, stepped out of the cab and stretched. He was still weak, but felt much stronger. Mid-stretch he heard the very nearby sound of a dog barking, the aggressive kind of bark dogs make in a fight. Turning toward the sound, he saw Doc in the branches of Michelle’s backyard maple tree, blood dripping down his leg. What the hell?!

  Don put the knife back in the sheath and squeezed Michelle’s bare breasts roughly with both hands. Michelle’s eyes grew wide as he painfully pawed at her with a hungry, savage look in his eyes. Her legs were still free, so with all her might she kicked him in the crotch. Don doubled over in pain then looked at her through watering eyes.

  “Why did you do that?!” he demanded in a pleading voice. “I only want to know your secret again! You didn’t have to do that!” As he grabbed his aching groin, it was obvious the pain had not reduced his erection. All it had done was infuriate him. She aimed another kick at him but he caught her foot before it could connect. With his free hand he roughly unsnapped her pants and yanked them most of the way down, effectively immobilizing her as his knee pinned her legs to the mattress. Pulling her pants down had also pulled her panties past her knees, revealing her pubic hair and mons veneris. He forced her knees apart, and as she panicked to close them, he backhanded her again in the face.

  “Stop that! I want to have a secret with you!” He spread her knees again, then reached down, unsnapped his own jeans, and pulled out his hard member. Michelle was trapped, her arms bound painfully behind her, legs spread, her sex exposed and vulnerable.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Kevin reached inside the truck and grabbed Doc’s shotgun. He bolted down the side yard and through the open gate, releasing the safety as he ran. “Hey!” he shouted. Matey turned in mid-bark and launched himself toward Kevin, nostrils flaring and foam flying from his mouth. Within a split second he covered half the distance between them. Snarling, he leapt into the air. Kevin barely had time to raise the gun and fire. Never a good aim, his shot caught Matey in the shoulder, changing the trajectory of his flight. The dog landed roughly on the ground with a yelp, then jerked around and again launched himself at Kevin. Kevin fired the gun once again, but again his aim was off, striking onl
y the top of Matey’s head, blinding one eye in the process. Matey fell to the ground, yelping, badly wounded but not incapacitated. Kevin carefully aimed and pulled the trigger. Click! He was out of shells. Matey advanced with a snarl, blood dripping from his wounds, teeth bared.

  Inside the dim bedroom, Don heard the two shots from the shotgun followed by the yelping of his companion. Still kneeling between Michelle’s legs with his hand around his erection, he looked toward the sound. “Matey?” he called. “Matey! Here boy!” He jumped off the bed and pulled his pants up as he ran out of the room. He drew the knife from its sheath.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  As soon as Matey turned toward Kevin, Doc dropped from the tree, wincing in pain as he landed on his wounded leg. He rolled to his left and barely avoided being struck by stray shot. As Matey scrambled to his feet, Doc raced to grab his revolver lying in the grass. Kevin took his second shot, once again missing the mark but hitting Matey and slowing him down. Doc grabbed his revolver, aimed the weapon at the attacking dog and fired.

  Don raced through the door, shouting, “Matey?! Matey!” He saw the wounded and bloodied dog leap toward Kevin, who was aiming his shotgun. Doc fired his revolver and Matey fell to the ground with a heavy Thump! writhing in agony.

  “No! You leave my dog alone!” he bellowed, vaulting over the railing of the deck. He landed on the grass and stumbled, recovered his balance and raced to defend his only friend, knife at the ready. He felt a hard tug on the left side of his chest and his body spun around by the impact of the .22 caliber bullet fired from Doc’s revolver. He landed in a heap a few feet from his one and only friend. Blood poured from the wound in Don’s chest as he reached the dog and pulled him close. “It’s okay, Matey, we’ll be okay, please don’t die!” he cried, tears in his eyes. Don cradled Matey’s head to his chest, mingling their blood. The dog whined one final time, then lay still. Don looked up and tried to focus on the men coming toward him. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. A final breath escaped his lungs. He and Matey lay still on the cold Michigan ground.