The Creeping Dead: Book 2

by Edward P. Cardillo

  Nancy pulled away from him, her expression fierce. “There’s no need to panic. One swallow doesn’t make a summer. I’m sure it’s just an isolated incident.”

  “Nance, this girl was going around biting people. The police are trying to round up those who were bitten for quarantine. The chief appears to be one of them.”

  This saddened Nancy. She liked Holbrook. He was a man of action. When the shit hit the fan two years ago, he took charge and kept them safe until the authorities arrived. She respected that.

  Officer Becky ran over to them. “Nancy, you’re going to have to close down the pier.”

  “Is the chief all right?” asked Nancy.

  Becky knew what she was asking. “We’re just taking the proper precautions.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” demanded Nancy.

  Becky frowned. “I need you to close the pier. We need to send a hazmat team in. I need you to do that right now.”

  Nancy looked like she was ready for an argument, but Mike grabbed her by the arm and spoke softly but firmly. “Nance, we need to close the pier. Chief Holbrook needs us to close the pier.”

  Nancy shook her head and swallowed her protest. She knew he was right. There would be time for a formal inquisition later.

  “Okay, let’s back this crowd up,” Becky instructed the other officers. “The pier is closed until further notice,” she announced to the crowd of cell phones and tablets.

  * * *

  Marie overheard two customers talking in her shop.

  “Did you hear that the police shot a little girl on Blackbeard’s Pier?”

  “I heard she was only six years old.”

  “These cops are too damned trigger happy.”

  “It’s already on social media. There’s a bunch of videos up. It’s horrible. Absolutely horrible. She fell into the water, poor dear. They never found her body.”

  Marie walked around the counter and approached the two ladies. “Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but overhear. You said a little girl was shot by the police?”

  One of the women, a fifty-something clad in a loose-fitting sun dress, pulled off her sunglasses and shot a nervous glance over at Alessandra, and then at Salvatore, both managing the clothing racks. They had also heard the conversation and were watching. Marie nodded for them to leave the store.

  Alessandra understood and grabbed Salvatore. “C’mon.” She pulled him outside onto the boardwalk.

  This satisfied the woman. “A six-year-old. Shot in cold blood.”

  “That’s strange,” said Marie.

  “Well, she attacked the police,” said the other woman, pursing her lips. She kept her shades on and gazed at Marie under the wide rim of a huge straw sunhat.

  “She’s a small child,” reprimanded Sundress. “They didn’t need to use deadly force.”

  “She was covered in blood, howling at them,” insisted Sunhat.

  Sundress gasped. “You don’t think…”

  “That was no little girl,” said Marie.

  Sunhat looked around, as if she was about to ask something controversial. “You don’t think the little girl was one of those monsters…?”

  “It’s been two years,” said Sundress, dismissing the idea. “Why would one reappear now?”

  “Why would the police shoot a little girl?” insisted Marie. “Where’s the body?”

  “Chief Holbrook was cuffed and led off the pier at gunpoint,” said Sunhat. “He had a yoke around his neck.”

  “Was he bitten?” asked Marie, her tone urgent. “Was the chief bitten?”

  “No one knows,” said Sundress. “The police are being real hush hush about it.”

  Marie snapped her fingers. “Christ Almighty! I knew it! I knew it wasn’t over.”

  “I’m sure that if it was another attack, the police would’ve provided some instructions,” said Sundress.

  Marie shook her head. “No, not yet they would. First they have to notify the Department of Health.”

  The two women shot uncomfortable glances at each other.

  Marie chortled. “What, you never went to the town meetings after the attack? There’s a protocol that needs to be followed. They’re not going to make an official announcement yet.”

  “Well, I think all of this talk about…them is a bit premature,” said Sundress.

  Apparently, the two women no longer felt comfortable continuing the conversation and excused themselves, leaving the store. Salvatore and Alessandra drifted back in.

  “What’s going on, Mom?” asked Alessandra.

  “Remember what I told you? What I said would happen?”

  “You don’t know for sure…” began Salvatore, knowing where she was going.

  Marie cut him off. “What else would it be? Chief Holbrook must’ve been bit. That’s why he was taken away. Don’t you see? He’s going to quarantine.” Marie’s eyes were wild. She looked crazed, like a person who had been told she was delusional but had just been vindicated.

  “Chief Holbrook?” asked Alessandra in disbelief.

  Marie nodded. “That’s right. I told you they’d be back. This time, we’re ready. This time, we won’t let them take our town.

  “This time we fight back.”

  * * *

  Nancy paced back and forth inside the Blackbeard’s Pier Arcade, looking out the locked glass doors facing the pier, watching the Hazmat team sanitize everything. The arcade was crowded with spectators earlier, but it was now almost empty. “Goddammit. I can’t believe this.”

  “Take it easy,” said Mike, pacing as well, but for an entirely different reason than Nancy.

  “How am I supposed to take it easy? It’s the beginning of the season, and we’re already off to a bad start.”

  Mike turned on Nancy, eyes fierce. “All you care about is money! Jesus, there are worse things going on here? The dead are back, and they’re going to infest the Bay again!” He braced himself for a nasty retort.

  However, Nancy’s expression was that of disappointment. “You old fool. Is that what you think I’m worried about? Money?”

  Mike threw up his hands. “Well, aren’t you?”

  Nancy took a few steps towards Mike and stopped, fists clenched at her sides. “For your information, mister, I actually care about this town. You prance about with all of your sentimentality, thinking Smuggler’s Bay is all cotton candy and memories.

  “The last two years have been rough. People have been getting by on insurance money and side businesses. Those who don’t have any other revenue lost everything. They’ve closed up shop and left.”

  “What’s your point, Nancy?”

  “My point is, if there’s another attack, this town is finished. No one will come here anymore. There won’t be any more children riding the carousel, laughing, and having a good time with their families. After the attack, we’re lucky anyone comes back at all. If it wasn’t for other outbreaks along the coast two years ago, we would be singled out as Zombie Central.”

  Mike calmed down. “I think we’ve adopted that identity on our own. Look at all of the businesses who went zombie themed.”

  “That’s exactly why I won’t do it,” said Nancy. “I want the Bay to continue to be known as a family destination. I love this town, which is why I’ve sunk every penny I have into this place when other business owners have run away with their tail between their legs.

  “And you…you should know me better. I resent that you picture me as this Scrooge who only cares about her bottom line.”

  Mike was stunned. Never before had he heard Nancy express this. Not in this way, anyway. But, it was an indication of sentimentality, of sorts. He stepped towards her. “I’m so sorry, Nancy.” He reached out to embrace her. He was relieved when she let him.

  She kissed him. “We need to be strong, for each other. For the Bay. And being strong means staying in business.”

  “I have a confession to make,” said Mike.

  “Uh oh. What is it now? Do I need to get my baseball bat?
”

  Mike smiled. “I know you think I won’t move out of the Bay and in with you because I’m dragging my feet with our relationship.”

  Nancy crossed her arms, her face stern. “Go on.”

  “I don’t want to leave the Bay either. If I moved in with you, it would be as if I was giving up on it.”

  Nancy narrowed her eyes. “I thought it was because of Mary.”

  “It is, partially. She was part of my decision to move out of Brooklyn and come here. Coming here was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

  “I see,” said Nancy, her demeanor softening. “I had no idea it meant that to you.”

  Mike smiled. “See, we’ve both learned something about each other.”

  “I’ll tell you what…I won’t pressure you to move out just yet, and you don’t balk at my business sense.”

  “Deal. Except for one thing.”

  “What now?”

  Mike paused, unsure if he should even broach the subject. “Are you really going to protest the rave tonight at the town board meeting?”

  Nancy huffed. “Why wouldn’t I? You know how I feel about it.”

  “You said so yourself. We need to keep people coming here. This rave would be huge for the town.”

  “It would be a huge liability.”

  “It’ll keep things going, at least for a bit,” insisted Mike.

  “Once again, families don’t go to raves. Teens do. Teens who do drugs.”

  Mike waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, you don’t know that.”

  “You’re so out of touch. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Teens play arcade games,” reminded Mike. “They go on rides.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “C’mon, Nancy. I think you know what I’m saying. Maybe, if this town is to survive, it needs to reinvent itself.”

  “I like Smuggler’s Bay just the way it is.”

  “Now who thinks the Bay is all cotton candy and memories?” Mike walked away, leaving her with food for thought.

  Nancy clenched her jaw. She hated it when he was right.

  * * *

  Chief Holbrook sat on a metal chair with his hands cuffed behind him and his feet shackled, quarantined in one of his own jail cells at the police station. Dr. Hickey sat in a chair outside the cell. Becky stood next to him, leaning against the wall, her hand resting casually on the handle of her gun. Becky had her phone hooked up to a portable speaker, playing hits from the eighties to ease the tension and pass the time. Loving Every Minute of It by Loverboy was playing in the background.

  “How did Lena take the news?”

  “She was upset,” said Becky, “but she understood.”

  “Was Robbie there?”

  “She asked him to go upstairs so we could talk privately.”

  Holbrook smiled. “Good.”

  “How do you feel?” asked Dr. Hickey.

  Holbrook paused to take stock of himself. “Okay, I guess. No different, really.”

  “Your vitals indicate as much, thus far.” As per Protocol Z, for a live subject suspected of being infected, vitals were taken every hour and recorded in an official log that was part of the subject’s medical record.

  Holbrook smirked at Becky. “I bet when you left AC, you didn’t expect any of this.”

  Becky returned the smirk. “I don’t think anyone expected any of this.”

  “Imagine my surprise when bodies started rising from my table,” said Dr. Hickey.

  They all shared a joyless laugh.

  “Your sister was a good cop,” said Holbrook.

  Becky smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I know. She always spoke highly of you.”

  “Joann saved my life at the expense of her own.”

  “I’m surprised you put into a transfer into this town,” said Dr. Hickey to Becky. “Even AC couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “My sister cared about Smuggler’s Bay. I guess I felt I was carrying on her legacy, or something.”

  Holbrook shook his head. “You know she wouldn’t want you to be here.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “How does your husband feel about it?” asked Dr. Hickey.

  Holbrook knew the answer to this.

  “As long as we don’t live in the Bay,” replied Becky. “Greg didn’t like it, but that was my compromise.”

  Hickey nodded. “You weren’t worried about another attack?”

  “The thought crossed my mind. The first attack took everyone by surprise, but I figured we’d be ready for it this time. It still took us by surprise.”

  “This was only one zombie,” said Holbrook, “and we neutralized it and quarantined the bite victims.”

  “One that we know of,” said Becky. “And we don’t know if we got all of the bite victims.”

  “That’s why we have increased patrols,” said Holbrook. “We’re on high alert.”

  “The DOH is getting involved,” said Hickey.

  “The mayor brought in State Troopers and County Police,” added Becky. “I’ve been tasked with discussing rapid response at the town board meeting tonight with a rep from the DOH. There’s even an acronym for it: R.E.C.—Recognize the symptoms, Evacuate to a safe distance, Call 911.”

  “Sounds about right,” said Holbrook.

  There was an uncomfortable silence.

  “How long has it been?” asked Holbrook.

  Dr. Hickey checked his watch. “Only a few hours.”

  “Jesus, if the Z Virus doesn’t get me, I’ll die from boredom. I wonder how the bite victims are faring.”

  Dr. Hickey frowned. “The DOH doesn’t expect many of them to make it.”

  “If they’ve all been bitten, none of them should make it,” said Becky.

  Dr. Hickey shrugged. “The DOH never speaks in absolutes.”

  Holbrook smirked. “Fewer lawsuits.”

  “There’s not a ton of information on rates of transmission and infection,” said Dr. Hickey. “We don’t know if there’s a one-to-one relationship between being bitten and infection. Your case is even less certain.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it, Doc?” said Holbrook.

  Hickey nodded. “We don’t know if the fluids you were exposed to were absorbed by the mucous membranes on your eyes or in your nose and mouth. So, we wait.”

  Holbrook turned to Becky, changing the subject. “Who’s relieving you when you go to the meeting tonight?”

  “Martinez.”

  “Good. If I turn, he’ll definitely pull the trigger.”

  Becky chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t think he likes me.”

  “What are you talking about? Everybody likes you.”

  “Do me a favor?”

  “Sure, Chief.”

  “Check on Lena and Robbie for me.”

  “I will, and then I’m coming right back here.”

  Holbrook shook his head. “No, I’m feeling fine. Go to the bonfire. People need to see you there, especially since you’re Joann’s sister. If you’re there, they’ll feel better about things.”

  She shot him a dubious look.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Holbrook insisted. “Martinez will take care of me, if it comes to that.”

  “So what do you think about the rave?” asked Becky. Now she was changing the subject.

  “I think it’s going to cause many problems,” said Holbrook. “Drugs, date rape, property destruction. But, the town’s going to go ahead with it anyway. It’ll bring in much-needed revenue.”

  “The mayor will have to approve overtime for that,” she said.

  “We’ll see. This might make zombies look tame by comparison.”

  “That’s not funny, Chief.”

  “I know.”

  * * *

  The day passed quickly, and Vinnie sat on a wooden bench waiting by the east end of the sky ride for Tara. He saw her strolling down the boardwalk. When she saw him, she smile
d.

  He stood up as she approached, not sure of what to do with his hands. He decided to extend his right hand, feeling awkward. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  Tara shook his hand and laughed. “Why so formal, Vinnie?”

  His face flushed. “Sorry. It’s just that…”

  “You’ve never been to see someone like me before.”

  “Right.”

  She gestured for him to sit back down. “Well, I assure you that I don’t bite.”

  Vinnie sat as instructed, wincing at her choice of wording. “Did you have to put it that way?” His tone was more sardonic than rebuking.

  Tara arched an eyebrow. “You know what I meant. I don’t normally meet clients on the boardwalk. I have an office for this sort of thing on Poseidon Avenue, right above the bike rental place.”

  “Did you hear about the little girl on Blackbeard’s Pier?”

  “Yeah. So sad.”

  Vinnie swallowed hard. “Some say the girl was one of them. You know, a…zombie.” He hesitated in uttering that word, as if saying it aloud would bring them back to Smuggler’s Bay.

  “If it was, it sounded like an isolated incident,” said Tara. “We don’t know anything definitive yet. No need to panic.”

  “You see Lenny on the boardwalk,” said Vinnie, changing the topic.

  Tara shook her head. “He’s an exception. He only feels comfortable on the boardwalk.”

  Vinnie smiled, looking sheepish. “So do I. It doesn’t feel like therapy this way.”

  “I’m not sure if this is therapy. As long as you don’t mind the lack of privacy.”

  “That’s just it,” he said. “It’s the only place I can be amongst everyone, yet be by myself. No one’s looking at us or listening to what we have to say.”

  Tara looked around. The passersby went about their business walking, licking ice cream cones, laughing—none paying any mind to Tara and Vinnie on the bench. “What made you call me?”

  Vinnie looked uncomfortable.

  “Is this about the little girl?” asked Tara.

  “No. I mean yes. Kind of. Ever since the attack, I’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

  “The attack was two years ago.”

  “Yes. At first, I was just going to bed later. Then it was becoming later and later. Then I was getting nightmares. Now I jump out of my skin every time I heard a loud noise.”