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

by Flint Maxwell

  I am under its spell. Worlds are building themselves in my head, knocking at the roof of my cranium, begging to come out and be shared.

  “Jack?” Jacob says.

  I shake my head and blink stupidly. “Uh, yeah, sorry.”

  “Down, boy,” Darlene says, hands squeezing an imaginary spray bottle.

  “You okay?” Jacob asks.

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s just I haven’t seen one of those in a long time.”

  “That old thing?” Jacob says, following my pointed finger. “I found it in a small town antique store about ten miles south of here. Grady wanted someone to type up meeting agendas, and I said I’d do it.”

  “Jack was a writer before…” Darlene says.

  “No bull? A writer like an author?” Jacob asks. His bushy eyebrows are almost stretched up to his hairline.

  “Yeah, I had a few books in print,” I say.

  “Anything I would’ve read?” he asks.

  “Probably not. I wasn’t too popular, but it paid the bills.” In hindsight with the zombies and all I think I should’ve spent more time learning weapons and defense. It’s 20/20, right?

  “All you need to do,” he says.

  “Jack even wrote a zombie novel,” Darlene says, saying zombie like it’s a bad word, and I guess it kind of is nowadays.

  Jacob shudders. “No, I wasn’t a fan of those horror books. Mainly, I liked war stories and the occasional romance.”

  “No way!” Darlene says. “I loved the romance books.”

  Jacob shrugs. “What can I say? My wife got me into them and I have a soft heart.” He smiles.

  Let’s hope that’s not the case tomorrow when we’re in D.C.

  Darlene looks at me with one of those why-can’t-you-be-more-like-him looks, then says, “You ever read Kane’s Sweet Sorrow?” Darlene asks.

  “All sixteen of them!” Jacob says. He’s beaming now. Next thing you know he’s going to start jumping up and down and squeeing like a girl. “I got the last five in my closet.”

  “Where they should stay…” I mumble.

  “Pardon?” Jacob asks.

  “Oh, nothing,” I say, smiling.

  Darlene gives me a new look, this one called the stare of death. I will not be getting lucky tonight.

  “Right,” Jacob says, “don’t knock it until you try it. What’s zombie literature to romance? A step above, maybe? But I digress. If you want to use the typewriter, knock yourself out. But on one condition, if you use all the ink or paper, your ass is making a supply run and getting more.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say.

  “Good, good,” Jacob says. “Well, I suggest you guys get some shut-eye. It’s been a long day and we got a longer one ahead of us tomorrow.”

  “Thank you again,” Darlene says.

  “Yes, thank you,” I say, half-heartedly, my mind on the typewriter.

  Jacob leaves, and Darlene shakes her head. “You’re not gonna get any sleep tonight, are you?”

  I’m grinning. “Maybe.” I sit at the desk and run my fingers over the keyboard.

  Darlene sighs. “Johnny Deadslayer says otherwise.”

  26

  I got a few hours. I wrote a lot, mostly crap, but that was expected. It takes awhile to get back into the flow of things, and eventually my exhaustion won out.

  Now, the dark sky glittering with stars is gone, replaced with a bright sun. Darlene is up and in the bathroom. The shower runs, the sound enough to jolt me to total awareness. A shower? Hot water? The only thing better than that would be bacon and eggs.

  I jump out of bed and into the shower with Darlene. The warm water sends chills down my spine. Then Darlene rubs my chest. We smile and kiss each other over and over again.

  Luckily, the sounds of the running water drown out her moans.

  I hope.

  We get dressed and head out into the living room where Norm and Herb are still sleeping. Margie boils coffee over the low flames of the stovetop. She smiles at us and says, “Good morning. Jake’s out in the back, if you’re looking for him.”

  I’m too busy looking at Norm and Herb to answer back.

  Darlene does for me. “Thank you,” she says.

  “Would you like coffee?” Margie asks.

  “Yes, that would be lovely,” Darlene answers.

  Norm looks like a stuffed toy next to Herb. Herb holds him in one arm while his other arm rests on his own chest, his thumb in his mouth. I burst out in laughter.

  Darlene laughs with me.

  Norm opens his eyes wide and he looks around like he has no idea where the heck he’s at, then he looks down at Herb’s massive hand and brushes it away as if it were a giant spider. “Get off me, you big dummy!”

  Herb stirs and rolls over on Norm whose scream of surprise is cut short by the steamroller that is Herb’s shoulder.

  I’m beside myself, almost on my knees.

  Herb wakes up, starts, and says, “Oh, Norm! So sorry! So sorry!”

  Norm coughs and crawls up off the floor. “I told you to sleep with your head by my feet.”

  “I-I got scared,” Herb says. “So sorry.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you buffoon. I forgive you,” Norm says.

  I’m wiping tears from my eyes because seeing the two like that is too much.

  Margie brings a steaming cup of coffee to my face from the kitchen. It smells delicious, like something brewed in the finest coffeehouses, and all thoughts of Abby’s injury, the mission ahead, or of Norm and Herb spooning together are gone.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  We sit in the living room, silent, drinking our coffee. I’m mentally preparing for the day ahead.

  After I’m done, I go outside and find Jacob.

  “Sleep well?” he asks.

  “Like a baby,” I say.

  “Good.” He is in a equipment shed, unloading shovels and tarps. “A sad, sad day,” he says.

  I reach for a shovel and say, “Here, let me help.”

  It’s the least I can do to pay my respects.

  He draws it back, away from me. “No, sir. Thank you kindly. But you go right on over and check on your gal. I heard she woke up last night.”

  “Really,” I say, reaching for the shovel again, “I don’t mind.”

  “I know. It’s great that you want to help, but you’re new here. No one really knows you. They’ve heard of you, don’t get me wrong. We’ve all heard of you, but the wounds are still fresh.”

  I nod solemnly. “I understand,” I say.

  “You seem like a good man, Jack Jupiter.”

  “Thank you. Give them my condolences.”

  “I will, Jack. Now get on to the med center. Spend time with the ones you love.”

  His voice is uneasy, and that bad feeling I felt last night creeps back and it makes it hard for me to speak, but I do. “I will, Jake. I will.”

  Darlene is out on the front porch of the cabin wearing a light jacket, her mug of coffee in hand. It is not cold here somewhere south of Washington D.C. Not like Ohio. Winter is on its way out the door and Spring is standing at the threshold, waiting. Darlene sips from her mug with a smile on her face, and as she sees me walking up to the porch, she smiles wider.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hey, lover,” she says. “This morning was nice.”

  I give her a wink and say, “As it always is. You’re getting better.”

  She elbows me playfully. “Oh, stop it, Jack Jupiter before I lock you in the shower again.”

  “With that logic, why the heck would I stop?” I say.

  I lean in to kiss her just as the door opens, interrupting us. It’s Norm. Go figure.

  “Man, I’m just bad luck for you two, huh?” he says, draining the last of his coffee. He fakes a shiver and says, “It’s getting chilly. Glad I get to stay inside where it’s warm.”

  “Yeah, lucky you,” I say.

  “I need the rest anyway. I’m not mad, not mad at all that you’re leaving me behind. There comes a time w
hen the pupil becomes the master…” he stifles a fake sob, “and I guess that time has come for us, little brother.” He walks by and gives me a punch on the arm that I think is meant to be playful but winds up hurting pretty bad.

  I rub the wound. “Yeah, yeah, I guess it is. Go get Herb and we can all go down and see Abby.”

  Norm snorts.

  Behind him, I see Darlene grinning. I wonder why, but then it hits me, almost harder than Norm’s playful punches, and I start to feel like a royal asshole.

  “Look at that!” Norm howls. “Jack Jupiter, bossing us around. I love it!” He cups one hand around his mouth and yells, “Oh, Herbie! Time to go!”

  Yeah, right. Me, a boss.

  Herb’s rumbling steps dart across the living room and he bangs the door open, causing Darlene to move out of the way. Still, she’s smiling.

  “Really? What, are we playin?” Herb asks.

  “No, big fella, just needed to pry you away from Margie’s cookie jar,” Norm says.

  “Oh, not nice, Norm!” Herb says, then he swipes away smeared chocolate at the corner of his mouth with the back of one mammoth hand. “Not nice at all.”

  We move from the porch to the beaten dirt and rock path and head out to see Abby, our hearts and smiles lifted. I drop back away from the three of them, taking a mental image of the people who are closest to me, thinking, Man, I really hope nothing goes wrong in D.C.

  27

  Abby is up when we walk into the med center. Brittney sits at the desk, looking the same as she did the other times we saw her in here, happy, bright-faced, reading a fantasy paperback.

  Phyllis’s shadow can be seen through the veil surrounding the patient next to Abby’s bed, one of the men or women who suffered injuries during last evening’s attack. I hear the person cough and Phyllis say, “It’s going to be okay, just rest,” in a soothing voice.

  The curtains part, rattling along the metal bar dividing the room, and out steps Phyllis. She is wearing the part of doctor much better today. The white lab coat, the glasses on a chain, the slicked-back ponytail, and in her hands is a clipboard. She is looking down at it as she almost crashes into Herb’s broad chest.

  “Oh,” she says. “Hello, all. Unfortunately, visiting hours are only from — ”

  “Oh, stop it!” Brittney shouts from the front room. “Let them see their friend!”

  Phyllis puts on a fake smile. “Well, I guess you can as long as you make it quick. The funeral is about to start and I can’t leave you in here with all my equipment and medicine — ” She chuckles. “Actually, there’s not much of either anymore.”

  Norm pats her on the shoulder. “No need to worry, the Great Jack Jupiter is going to fix that for you.”

  “I heard,” Phyllis says, still smiling, still fake. “Mighty brave of you.” Then with all the feigned enthusiasm of an old housewife shaking a veteran’s hand, she says, “Thank you for your service.”

  I roll my eyes. “Cut the crap. How’s Abby doing?”

  Now Phyllis is smiling for real. “See for yourself,” she says.

  We do. Darlene is the first one to walk over to Abby’s ‘room’ and part the curtains.

  My chest swells with excitement as I see Abby lying there, her head propped on a pillow, a somber smile on her face. “Took you long enough,” she says. “You guys are too polite. If it were one of you in here and me out there, I would’ve kicked the door down and ripped the curtains off their rod.”

  “Abby!” Herb says. He rushes over to her and hugs the right side of her body, the side with a full arm.

  “How ya doing, kid?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I’ve been better. I’ve been a helluva lot better.”

  “Yeah, I bet,” Norm says. He walks over to where Herb is kneeling. “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

  “Never thought I’d hear you say that,” Abby says. She looks at me. “Thank you, Jack. Seriously. I remember it all like a hazy dream. The bastard came down on me, I thought I got him, but I slipped in the mud. Of all things that got me in the end, it was the damn earth.”

  “I thought we lost you. It wasn’t just me. There was a man from here who helped, too. He was the one who — ” I point at her wrapped stump and seeing it is almost physically painful for me. “He was the one who did that.”

  “He had to,” Abby says, bringing the arm up and examining it. “I understand that. I’m lucky to be alive, lucky not to be a zombie.”

  Darlene’s face is wet, she wipes fresh tears away. “Yeah, you are.” And she hugs Abby around the shoulders.

  Abby groans. “Easy there,” she says, grimacing.

  I pull Darlene off of her. “Don’t wanna her hurt anymore than she already is.”

  “I’m all right,” Abby says. “Don’t want to puke though.”

  Darlene chuckles. “I missed you.”

  “It’s only been a day,” Abby says.

  “Felt like a lifetime,” Darlene says.

  “Yeah,” Herb says. “Thought I’d never get to see you again, Abby.”

  Abby looks to me, rolling her eyes like a girl almost in her twenties would do. I think she’s thinks I’m going to back her up. I don’t. Instead, I shrug and say, “They’re right, it did feel like a long time.”

  “Puke,” Abby says, shaking her head. “Norm?”

  “I’m sorry, Abby,” Norm says, “but I gotta agree. We were all worried.”

  “Yeah, Norm gets extra douchey when he’s worried,” Darlene says.

  “Amen,” I say.

  “Real nice, guys,” Norm says.

  The doctor comes in and clears her throat. “Uh, excuse me, I think it would be best to let Abby rest. The funeral is starting in ten minutes and I really don’t want to show up dressed like this.” Phyllis motions to her outfit.

  I give her a nod. “Okay, guys, let’s pack it up and get out of here.”

  “Thank God,” Abby says. She fakes a yawn.

  Everyone leans down and gives her a hug. Darlene kisses her on the cheek while Abby makes a disgusted face.

  As we turn to leave, Abby calls for me. “Jack?”

  I stop and motion everyone to keep going. “Yeah?” I say.

  Phyllis is the last one to clear the room, letting out an exasperated sigh. Whatever, I think, sigh all you want.

  “I hear you’re going with these people on a mission to D.C.,” she says.

  I nod.

  “You think you’ll be okay?”

  I nod again. I hope I’ll be okay.

  “I mean, without us and all. We have a pretty good team dynamic. Don’t want to mess that up…” Her eyes drift toward her bandaged hand. “Actually, probably not anymore.”

  I grab her good hand and say, “Abby, you will still be the meanest, roughest, toughest son-of-a-bitch, zombie-slaying expert in what’s left of this broken world. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine and you’ll be fine. I’ll go get whatever the doctor needs to help you and I’ll find Doc Klein and get him whatever he needs to save this world.”

  “Jack…you can’t do it all.”

  “Watch me,” I say, and I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. “Get better, Abby. I’ll see you soon.”

  28

  After the funeral, the sun is high in the sky and it is no longer chilly outside. The wind blows and it’ll bite you, but otherwise you wouldn’t know that winter is barely in the rearview. You would think summer might happen tomorrow.

  I am walking to the armory with Jacob. Darlene shouts out behind me. “Jack!” she says. “Wait up.”

  We have already said bye to each other, careful not to make it goodbye because Darlene says that’s forever and that’s not going to happen. Though, we both feel like there’s a chance it is goodbye.

  The armory is already in sight. Jacob says, “I’ll just go ahead without ya,” smiling. Then he leaves.

  Darlene jogs to me and jumps in my arms. “I needed another kiss. I’m sorry — it’s just — ”

  “Don’t apologize,” I say. An
d I kiss her.

  We part looking into each other’s eyes, trying to hide the sadness with smiles.

  The group is waiting for me as I enter the armory. The first thing I notice is not the array of weapons and ammunition, but their faces. There is four of them. The only ones I recognize are Grady and Jacob. The others are young men. Jacob is the oldest of the bunch, with his gray, bushy beard and many wrinkles on his brow. They are smiling. One of the younger guys nudges the man next to him.

  “Girls,” he says, then he gives me a wink.

  “Gentlemen,” Grady says, walking toward me. “This is Jack Jupiter. Jack, this is the boys.”

  The two men nod. They look oddly similar. Like they could be —

  “The fellows to your left are the Garfunkel twins. The one with the beard is Billy and the other one with the cigarette is Sean — Sean, what I tell ya about lighting up around here? Mother doesn’t like it.”

  Sean takes one long drag and flips the butt to the floor, stomps it out with his boot heel. “Good to meet you,” he says, blowing smoke out of his nose.

  “Yeah, man, welcome aboard, but leave them feelings about girls at the door,” the bearded one says, Billy. “When you’re out here with us, it’s not every man for themselves, it’s not fuck everyone and run back to your woman. No, man. None of that shit. We stick together and we fight together and if one of us gets in a pinch, we get out together, capisce?”

  “Yeah,” I say. Can’t argue with that.

  “Go easy on him, Billy,” Grady says. He comes up to me and pats me on the back, and whispers, “Shit goes down, he’s the first one we let go,” and he gives me a wink.

  I offer him and uneasy smile then look back to the Garfunkel twins. “I’ll do my best.”

  Billy shakes his head. “Don’t do your best, just be fucking smart, that’s all we ask. Croghan wasn’t smart. The dumbass — God rest his soul — walked by the forest without sending scouts. If that was me out there —”

  “C’mon, Billy, he didn’t think they’d be so close to home,” Sean says.