Dead Nation: A Zombie Novel (Jack Zombie Book 3)

by Flint Maxwell

  “Don’t forget the town Jack single-handedly destroyed,” Norm says, brushing away the crumbs from his shirt.

  “I had to,” I say, but why do you have to keep reminding me, Norm? “Everyone had turned anyway, those who weren’t had been eaten. It needed destroyed.”

  I had to put Woodhaven’s ashes behind me and move on.

  Grady smiles and practically jumps off the floor as he says, “Exactly! That’s what we need. Mother, as you may have picked up on already, is sensitive to these certain things — I wouldn’t call it being psychic or special or anything like that — but she senses the goodness in you all. Hell, I sense the goodness in you guys, and that’s becoming harder and harder to do when schoolteachers and mothers are reduced to putting bullets into zombies like savages. I want you all on the team, but if I can’t have that, I’d take at least one. Anything would help us, really. Without the medicine, your friend could die. I hate to say it, but it’s true. A lot of people could die.”

  I look to Darlene and Norm and Herb (who is busy studying the pictures of Christ on the walls, not paying attention). Norm looks like he’s salivating. Yeah, he’s definitely back. The incident at the top of the hill has seemed to bring him out of his funk. Darlene is another story. She’s fed up, I can see it plainly on her face. The way her arms are crossed and her brow is furrowed. The dark glare. If I could see her outline, I reckon it would be blazing red. She knows me, she knows the look on my face. She knows my answer.

  I have to do this. I know it won’t be easy, but if Darlene wants this to be over, if she wants the world to go back to normal like I do, then she will let me go.

  I look to Grady then to Mother. “Can we discuss it first, as a group?”

  “Yes, sugar,” Mother says. “We’ll let you be. Take your time.”

  22

  Mother and Grady leave the room. In fact, they leave the cabin altogether.

  Darlene is the first to speak up. “No,” she says, her voice as final as a fatal gunshot.

  “Hey,” Norm says, “let the man speak his mind before making a decision.” He has both arms out to his side as if to say Who me?

  “Not when it comes to life or death,” Darlene says. She stands up quick, pushing her chair out from behind her. Norm has to catch it before it falls over. Darlene brushes her hair out of her face. Some of Abby’s blood has stained her shirt, and I’m brought back to the gruesome scene in Jacob’s living room.

  “Darlene, please,” I say, knowing if she leaves the room there’s no convincing her. “It’s for the greater good.”

  “Forget the greater good! I’m sick of being on the run. I’m sick of hiding. I want to settle down. I want to live my life, not fear for it. Eden was supposed to be that. We survived. God knows how we survived, but we did. And now we’ve found this place and it feels like home to me, Jack. It feels like the place we could finally get married and have children, where we could do what we were supposed to do. Where we could live.”

  I know. I know. I know all of this, and each time she reminds me, my heart breaks. It’s not my fault. I didn’t bring this plague upon us. But I can help stop it. I can finally be someone, not just some hack writer who was once too afraid to send his food back to the kitchen if the waitress put the order in wrong. I can make the whole world safe. Not just a section of it, but the whole world.

  “I don’t know why you or anyone would wanna have children in this fucked-up society,” Norm says. “Of course, I’d been saying that long before there was such a thing as zombies and crazy cowboys.” He chuckles. “Never thought I’d say those two things in a sentence again.”

  “Shut up!” Darlene says.

  “Stop it!” Herb booms. “Stop it all of you!”

  Norm and Darlene exchange a guilty look to one another. Norm whispers, “Sorry,” to no one in particular.

  “You are right, Darlene. You are always right, and it hurts me to know you’re right about this, but it’s something I’ve got to do. You don’t have to — ” I say before she cuts me off.

  “That’s even worse, Jack!” she says. Her eyes water now. “I would rather die with you then you die alone.”

  “Don’t say that,” I say. The thought of Darlene dying is one I live with everyday — I can’t help thinking it the way the world is now — but it’s also one I push to the back of my mind.

  “It’s true!” she says.

  Herb is sobbing.

  “Oh, geesh,” Norm says. “It’ll be a simple operation. And it’s the least we can do after Abby. You don’t need to worry, Darlene, really.”

  That’s not true. We always have to worry. It’s part of life.

  She rounds the table and wraps her arms around me, her face nestling in the crook of my neck, wet tears against my skin. “I-I just don’t want to be without you again, Jack. Woodhaven was torture. That small span of time in Eden was torture. Haven’t I been tortured enough?”

  “Darlene — ” I say.

  She cuts me off again. “Just hold me,” she says. “Just hold me like you’re never going to let me go.”

  That’s not fair. We’ve all been tortured. Then there’s a long silence as I listen to her and do what she tells me. Even Herb’s sobs have stopped.

  Norm interrupts the silence. He says, “Geez, I feel like you two should — ”

  “Get a room? Yeah, yeah, I know,” I say.

  “Not what I was going to say at all,” Norm says. “I was going to say you two should grow a pair.”

  Darlene flips him off without turning her head from the crook of my neck. Norm grins.

  “Aw, Darlene! Bad, bad!” Herb says.

  Then we all share a laugh. Hearty laughter only good friends and family can share. Because that’s what we are. We may be one short for the time being, but we still have each other. For now.

  “Darlene, I have to go,” I say once the laughter tapers off. “I can help. Not only this compound, but the entire world. Abby won’t survive — this entire place won’t survive — if they don’t get what they need.”

  “I know,” Darlene says. “I know you are going to go and you’re not going to let me go with you. I just wish it wasn’t like that.”

  Me, too.

  “I’ll be with him,” Norm says, standing up and sticking his chest out. “I’ll keep him safe. You won’t have to worry. I may be minus a finger, but that’s just one less thing my brain needs to focus on, you know?”

  “No,” I say.

  Norm’s head flinches back slightly. “Um, what?”

  “No. I need you here. I need you all here. You have to watch out for each other. What if Abby wakes up and we’re all gone? That can’t happen.”

  “I think what you really mean,” Darlene says, “is what if these people can’t be trusted?”

  She’s right, but I try not to show that she’s right on my face. Better safe than sorry. I think this place shows promise, but then again I thought the same of Eden.

  “I’ll go. I’ll be safe, Darlene, I promise. Norm has taught me well and I’ll be with Grady and the rest of his crew. You saw how they mowed down the zombies at the hilltop. They are as experienced as anyone.”

  “Jack — ” Darlene says, but it’s my turn to cut her off.

  “That’s final. If you want to stay here, if you want the best life possible in this world, then you’ll let me go.” I kiss her. “And I’ll be back. I’ll be back with supplies and maybe a way to help everyone.”

  She nods, eyes shiny.

  Herb says, “Group hug!”

  And none of us resist — in fact, Norm is the first person to wrap their arms around me.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I say. “It’s going to be okay.”

  23

  Mother and Grady are in the grass, their eyes turned up to the glittering stars above. Mother hums a song. The sound is beautiful and it carries on the wind. It’s a sound that could change fear into courage.

  She turns around as I walk up to them, Norm, Darlene, and Herb be
hind me.

  “Have you decided?” Mother asks.

  “Yes,” I say, feeling that fear creeping back up my throat. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t be afraid. It’s just a routine supply run. I’ll be with experienced fighters who have big guns. I’ll be okay. But there’s that small voice in the back of my mind telling me I won’t. It’s a voice telling me things will go wrong because they always do. Woodhaven, Indianapolis, Chicago, Sharon, Eden, and now D.C. That voice is screaming.

  What choice do I have, though? I have to do this. “We’ve decided that I’ll go with you, Grady. The others will stay back and be with our friend, if that’s okay,” I say.

  Grady is grinning. It’s an odd sight considering the news.

  “God will be with you all upon your journey,” Mother says. “That I know.”

  Grady walks over to me and shakes my hand. “I wish I could take everyone, but if not, I’ll take you, Jack.” He looks to Mother and gives her a wink. “The world famous Jack Jupiter.”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, we move out after the burials tomorrow. You can stay at the Hartford’s house. Jake and Margie got room for you and he said he’d loved to have ya. Jake’s a good man. Anyway, we’ll discuss plans tomorrow. That all right, Jack?” Grady says.

  I nod.

  “Great. Get a good night’s sleep,” he says. “I’m beat myself. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” He bends down and kisses Mother on one wrinkly cheek.

  “Good night,” she says.

  And Grady leaves.

  When he is out of earshot, Darlene speaks. “Do you really think so?” she asks.

  “What’s that, dear?” Mother replies.

  “Do you think God will see them on their journey?” Her face is wet with the tears she had shed in the cabin. I walk over to her and grab her by the waist.

  “Don’t worry,” I whisper.

  “Look up,” Mother says.

  Darlene does and I follow her gaze.

  “Do you see that?” Mother asks. “Do you see all those beautiful stars shining white light down on us?”

  The black canvas sky looks as if it has been filled with diamonds. It is beautiful and seeing it gives me hope. There’s a lot of ugly in this world. I like the change.

  “Y-Yeah,” Darlene says.

  “Pretty,” Herb says.

  “That’s God, children. That’s God and he is watching over us now,” Mother says. She wheels closer and takes Darlene’s hand. “He’ll be okay, and so will your friend Abby. You needn’t worry. Jack and Grady and the rest of the men have a tough road ahead of them, but he will make it. That, I am sure of.”

  “How can you know?” Darlene asks.

  “When I have doubts, darlin, I just look up at the sky and the doubts disappear,” Mother says. “You do the same thing, honey. You do it whenever you’re feeling lonely or scared.”

  Norm chuckles behind me. I shoot him a look over my shoulder and he shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

  Darlene says, “Thank you,” and bends down to kiss Mother on her cheek. “Thank you.”

  We leave her there in the grass, staring up at the stars.

  24

  The med center is the only building with electrical lights on in the circle of structures that make up this village’s downtown area.

  Brittney sits at her desk reading a paperback fantasy novel. Something I’ve never heard of but with great cover art. She looks up as we walk in. I’m expecting her to give us a grimace or some kind of look of despair and for her to say Abby didn’t make it.

  I’m relieved when she doesn’t. Instead, she’s smiling and it causes me to smile, too.

  “She’s doing fine,” Brittney says. “She opened her eyes and talked about an hour ago. Phyl says she’ll pull through if all goes well with Grady’s supply run tomorrow.”

  As if I needed to hear that. More added pressure to this job. But I can’t show that.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “We’ll get what you need.”

  “Oh, you’re going?” Brittney asks.

  “Yeah, just Jack here,” Norm says. “The apocalypse’s very own superhero.”

  This makes me cringe. I’m no hero. Just a guy trying to survive, trying to do what’s right.

  “Well, be careful. We only have so many hospital beds here,” Brittney says, winking.

  I laugh nervously. Morbid.

  “I kid,” she says. “Grady is one of the best. I actually came here with him, and if it wasn’t for him, none of our group would’ve made it. We lost a couple, but it would’ve been dozens without him. So you have nothing to worry about.”

  I highly doubt that. Like I said, there’s always something to worry about.

  Darlene smiles, a false smile to cover the sadness. I want to grab her and tell her it’s going to be okay, but I know she won’t listen to me. So she changes the subject. “Can we visit Abby?” she asks.

  Brittney tilts her head back and forth. “It’s probably best to let her rest, but if you’re quiet and you don’t wake her up, I don’t see the problem. Just don’t tell Phyl. She’ll chew me out again.”

  “Thank you,” Darlene says.

  “Yes, thank you!” Herb says. He starts around the desk to give Brittney a hug, and Brittney backs her chair up into the wall.

  Norm grabs Herb by the back of the shirt, stopping him. “Nuh-uh, buddy. You gotta buy her a drink first.”

  Herb scrunches his face up. “Huh? I don’t got no money. You know that, Norm!”

  “Me, neither, pal,” he says, pulling his empty pockets inside out. It’s actually quite comical. Norm just saved Brittany a few fractured ribs from one of Herb’s big bear hugs.

  We head to the door where Abby is.

  Darlene is the first one into the operating room that was once a garage. All the blood has been cleaned up. The smell is something like bleach and disinfectant and possibly singed meat. The bunched up curtains are now drawn, separating another hospital bed. There is the steady beeping of machinery, the whooshing of labored breathing. Darlene draws Abby’s curtain. A hunk of gauze is wrapped around her arm. On the arm is no longer a hand. It’s gone from about three inches above the wrist. Abby’s hair is dry, no longer clinging to her forehead and face. It’s brushed and lying in waves, covering the pillow. Her chest rises and falls serenely.

  “She looks peaceful,” I say.

  Darlene sniffles. “Thank God you were there, Jack. Thank God you carried her.”

  I smile. “I would never leave her. I would never leave any of you.” I turn to look at Norm, but he turns his face away from me and brings his hand up to his eyes. “Norm…are you crying?” I ask in a shocked whisper.

  “N-No,” he says. “Just a lot of dust in here.”

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Herb says, patting Norm on the back.

  “I’m not!” Norm says.

  He is. He definitely is. God, I never thought I’d see my tough older brother cry. This is a day that should go down in the history books.

  Then Abby stirs, and we all hold our breath, but she doesn’t open her eyes. She will be okay. I’ll make sure of it.

  25

  After we leave the med center we head to Jacob’s cabin. The blood has also been cleaned up here. Where Abby’s hand is I have no clue, nor do I want to know. Jake greets us holding a candle. He wears blue and white striped pajamas. His wife snores in a room down the hall.

  “You two can stay in the living room and crash on the floor,” Jacob says, pointing to Herb and Norm. “Unfortunately, I don’t got a bed big enough for Herb here.”

  “Not many people do,” Norm says.

  We all share a laugh.

  “That okay?” Jacob asks.

  “Do you have pillows and blankets?” Norm asks.

  “Yes, sir,” Jacob says.

  “You could stick me in a kennel and I’d be fine if you gave me a pillow and a blanket. Anything beats the cramped backseats of a Jeep or a crappy van,” Norm says.

  “Amen,�
� I say.

  “And you two lovers can take the spare bedroom. It was originally meant for my coin collection, but I couldn’t save them all when we had to move camps a few months back. So don’t mind the big ledgers. You can look if you want, just don’t take any out or anything like that.” Jacob offers us a wink. “Got a bed and a spare bathroom.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Don’t mention it. Just make sure you have my back tomorrow,” he says.

  “You’re going?” I ask as we walk down the hallway. There’s large paintings on the walls. Mountains. Sunsets. Serene beaches swallowed up by deep, blue oceans.

  “I never miss a supply run. It’s a way for me to…unwind,” Jacob says.

  Darlene looks at me and rolls her eyes. I can almost hear her saying Men in her best feminist’s voice.

  Jacob opens the door to the spare bedroom. It’s small, but pleasant. The bed is barely large enough for us to share, but we’ll make do. There is a window on the opposite wall where we can see the stars settled into the night sky almost perfectly. On the walls is a painting of a huge tree, like the kind I helped bury the Richards family beneath. Vibrant greens. Rich browns. It almost feels like home.

  I step in, the carpet feeling wonderful on my bare feet, and what I see almost brings me to my knees.

  Tucked away in the far corner on a small table is a typewriter. It’s pale blue. The metal shines. The keys sit tall and proud.

  “Yeah,” Jacob is saying, “there’s spare blankets in the closet. The toilet doesn’t always flush on the first go-around. You might have to jimmy the handle…”

  His voice fades away. Faintly, I hear Darlene saying, “Uh-huh, uh-huh.”

  I am too enamored by this simple piece of technology. It’s not a computer or a laptop or a tablet; it’s just a fine piece of writing machinery. Something my grandfather might’ve written many years ago when he was trying to publish sci-fi and horror shorts in magazines like Weird Tales and Ghastly. My heart swells to the point of me having to look away. It’s been so long since I’ve written. I didn’t know how much I missed it until now.