Seizures
by Sparrow Black
Copyright © 2016 Sparrow Black and Smuggly Books, All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
For this go around, I’d like to thank my parents, Lillian and Walter, for giving me a childhood full of books of every variety. You gave me a love that endures to this day, both from your selves and for books. Thank you! <3
Table of Contents
Seizures
by Sparrow Black
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About the Author
Chapter One
What do you do when the world ends just before Thanksgiving? Seriously, instead of taking pictures of yummy pumpkin pies and golden, steamy turkeys people are posting pictures all over the internet of their neighbors eating their dogs and children! I want my turkey, dangit! And yeast rolls! With mountains of butter melting all over them. Stupid apocalypse stole my cranberry sauce!
What do I have to eat instead? Vienna sausages and bread that I’m picking the mold off of. Gross! But it’s what I have. I’m not walking out of the front door until I absolutely have to. Not gonna happen. You can’t make me.
As you may have noticed, the worst has happened. There are zombies at the gate, lots of zombies. One week until Thanksgiving and some wandering comet brought cooties with it. Not just a make you sick and die cootie, either. A make you sick and die, then rise to eat your family and friends cootie. A ruin the whole holiday season, without the help of Christmas sale ads in October, kind of ruination. Totally fubard the whole event. No turkey, no Christmas, no presents. Just sitting in your house, watching the last remaining leaves fall off the trees as the perv next door, that used to come out in tiny shorts in a snowstorm to bend over in front of your dad, chases down and eats the old man that used to sit on his front porch cussing at the kids getting off the school-bus for being too noisy, then after said perv’s done with the old man eats another neighbor’s cat. Sometimes the apocalypse is funny.
At other times it’s sad. I cried as I watched the little old lady from the end of the street chase down her grandson. She was really sweet in life, making cakes and cookies for the whole neighborhood and never asking for a thing in return. I’d go visit her a few times a week, just to keep check on her. She even taught me how to crochet and knit, not that I’d done much of either lately. She was full of stories about growing up in Louisiana and how she’d somehow managed to get to North Carolina. That’s where we are by the way. Lincoln County, North Carolina.
Smack dab in the middle of the state, or thereabouts. Maybe a little more left than middle, but there’s not many people left that would argue with me. Well, the internet is still working so maybe there are?
I’ve not heard from any of my family. I figured my cousin, Amanda, would give me a call, at least. She never leaves her house. She’s agoraphobic, don’t ya know? My cousin Maria, now she was probably the first to be eaten. I bet she wandered out with a Bible on her chest, babbling about the coming of the Lord and asking what phone number she needed to call to make a donation to the megachurch spewing hate/the love of Jesus Christ, over the airwaves, as she was eaten. I wish I could have seen that. I’m awful, aren’t I? It’s the apocalypse though, the end, the finale, annihilation, don’t I deserve some levity?
I’m also kind of bored. Why am I bored in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, you ask? Why am I not boarding up the windows, fortifying the doors, and huddling in a closet with a nine iron? Fortunately, my house is surrounded by a tall, wrought iron fence. Not many zombies can get through that. They’ve been dead for days; they’re rotting, which leads to stuff falling off. How do you think they’re going to get through that? Ooze through?
At 21 I’m the proud owner of a Victorian-era palace on Main Street. No, I’m not a whiz kid doctor, or the owner of a genius idea that made me millions. I made my money the old fashioned way: I inherited it. My parents died three years ago and left me everything. Everything included two homes, three cars, and four bank accounts. They were successful at real estate before that all came crashing down with the economic downturn.
It truly gutted me when my parents died. I didn’t want the house, the cars, the money, I wanted my parents. How could two of the most super-awesome people in the world get in a car, drive to the mountains, and die in a pileup during foggy conditions when their kid was at home waiting for them? Sometimes I still find myself waiting to hear their footsteps through the house. Honestly though, I’m kind of glad they’re gone. They don’t have to witness the things I have seen. Sure, I’m joking about this stuff, making light of it, but I have to do something to make the world dying sound appealing. Otherwise, I’m going to crack up.
One of the reasons I don’t want to leave the house is: THERE ARE ZOMBIES OUTSIDE. There’s also the seizures to worry about. What if I have a seizure whilst fleeing from a horde of zombies? I can’t defend myself if I’m flopping around, totally unconscious of what is going on. I know, I’m supposed to turn into Super Woman now, gain powers that I never knew I had, and take out hordes with a machine gun that randomly falls into my lap while also magically gaining sharpshooter abilities but it’s the real world. I have a seizure disorder and I’ve never shot a gun in my life. I’d likely end up just shooting myself accidentally.
I’m going to have to go out at some point though. I have to get my medicine and food. I can’t stand much more of this foamy sausage crap. Just hearing the sound of the top peeling off the can is turning my stomach now.
I bet you’re thinking now, she has a ton of money, a big house, one of those fancy fridges with blue lights and buttons that make noise, expansive storage space, and a huge pantry, why does she need food? Because I was waiting for my friend, Lena, to come and take me to the store. Seizures mean no driving. Ever. So I have to wait on somebody to come by and pick me up. In fact, the only reason I even had Vienna sausages is because Lena bought them for me as a joke. She told me they’d hold me over if she ever couldn’t make it for our bi-monthly grocery run. I snickered when she said “bi” and put the canned meat away. I’m glad I have something to eat, don’t get me wrong, but that snotty jelly stuff really puts me off.
But I’m not going out yet. I found a can of turkey in the back of the pantry that had to have been there for years. I certainly don’t remember buying it. Thanksgiving is tomorrow. What a dinner it’s going to be! Moldy bread, some boxed stuffing, and a can of turkey. Mmmm, mmm, that’s good eating! If I tell myself that enough it’ll be true, right? Right??
No, it won’t be. Looking out the window seat in my bedroom upstairs, into the front yard with its line of cedar trees and ornamental shrubs, I wonder what I should do for the rest of the day. There’s only me and the world is ending, it’s not like I need to clean the house. I don’t have a gun so I can’t sit on the roof taking down the hordes. Okay, so there aren’t really hordes, more like a gathering. Maybe 15 people, um, zombies, are standing around outside. There aren’t really that many people left living on Main Street now.
Most of the houses are offices for lawyers or psychologists. The cootie-mongering started at night, so most people were still at home when they first got sick. They stayed home because the sore throat, fever, and blood dripping out
of their eyes made it kind of hard to drive. This wasn’t your run of the mill cold. Oh no. Within hours you knew where this sickness was headed. Most people didn’t even have time to get to the ER, it was so quick.
I’m not sure why I didn’t get it. Word on the internet is some of us are immune. And isn’t that strange? Countries have fallen, governments have been toppled, but the power is still on, the internet is still on. I guess it’ll go out in a few days, but I’m enjoying it while it lasts, for now. Friday is the day, by the way. The day I’m going to have to go outside. I don’t want to do it, but I’ll be out of medicine and this one finally seems to be controlling the seizures. I haven’t had any in a month, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that.
I’m going to have to drive I think. I have never done it. I’ve dreamed about doing it, watched others while they were driving, but I’ve never done it. I’ve never even driven a riding lawn mower. One of the local kids mows my grass with a push mower. We’ll see how it goes.
These things are slowing down now, as they “age”. I just saw Mr. Rocko’s right fingers fall off when he bumped into a lamp post. He of the bending over in the snow fame. Wow, I hope he croaks soon, those tiny shorts are looking even nastier as he rots.
There’s some fresher zombies out there to watch out for. The zombies are mean and fast for the first couple of days. They can run, bite ferociously, and hold onto whatever they grab hold of with an iron grip. As they age though, their bite turns into their teeth just bending right out of their heads as they clamp down on their victims, their fingers break off, and if they try to run, their legs just come apart at the joints and they end up slopping along on the ground. I was kind of surprised to see Mr. Rocko chomping down on Mr. Crown this morning. Mr. Crown was old though, he didn’t move quickly, and was a bit feeble. Total Zombie Bait.
Still trying to think of something to do, I browsed the web looking for ebooks I might want to read before the power went off and I lost access to some of the newer books out there. Ha! Like I wanted to read zombie books now! I had them outside my front gate. Reality isn't so fun. I downloaded the book about surviving things like this though; it might come in handy, later. If I could keep my devices charged. But I had a solar charger for that situation.
Videos? Hmmm. I looked at the popular websites for something to take my mind off of the real life horror movie taking place outside of my door and couldn’t find much. Oh, “Gone with the Wind”. That’s forever and a day long; I think I might just watch that!
Chapter Two
Why, I do declare! I think that zombie just ate that defenseless little billy goat!”
I actually spoke the words out loud and with a vacant expression on my face with my eyes wide, a hand over my chest, while staring out of the window as though I had been reborn as Scarlet O’Hara. Where is the goat from, you ask?
Um, yeah…a goat had come ambling up the street and Mr. Crown, the “get off my lawn” man, just took it down. I’d heard this strange sound coming from the street just as Rhett swept Scarlet up the stairs and I looked out of the window in time to see Mr. Crown slopping over the goat long enough to somehow manage to take a bite out of it. Closing my laptop, I sighed, and wandered to the bathroom. Maybe I should cut my bangs?
No, I’d done that so many times over the last week that I was in danger of looking like very light brown-haired version of Bettie Page if I kept at it. You don’t know who she is? Oh wow, hurry, before the internet dies! Go look her up! Now!
Yes, I know I’m pushing reality to the back of my mind. I’m perfectly aware of that, but you try it!
If I let reality intrude too much I’ll just sit here and cry over every creature that dies outside of my window I’ll never get off of my couch again. Not for a long time, anyway.
Anyway, I brushed my teeth, again, washed my face, and went downstairs to the kitchen in the back of the house. Looking out of the door, onto the backyard, I could almost pretend there was nothing wrong. Harvest colored leaves, some as red as blood, others lemon yellow, most the color of pumpkins, littered the back. I hadn’t raked the lawn yet. Maybe I could do that? No, no, I can’t go outside. It’s just too dangerous out there.
I longed to be outside though. I loved the autumn. The sounds the leaves made as I walked through them, the smell that came from them as my feet stirred them. The faint scent of smoke in the air, sometimes, and the way the cold air felt against my cheeks. And the softness of sweaters and scarves against my skin. I even enjoyed being cool enough to wear socks finally! I hated wearing socks in the summer, but in the winter, feeling socks hugging my feet was one of my favorite things.
I’m rambling aren’t I? Sorry, I did warn you I was bored. I thought about getting on my laptop again, but I knew nobody I knew was going to be on any of the social networks, or VOIP platforms. Most of them had disappeared days ago.
My stomach grumbled loudly, reminding me that I could seriously kill for an egg roll right now.
And that reminded me of the cold, foamy sausages in my future tonight. Maybe I could find some at the grocery store? Egg rolls that is. Not the same as the mouth blistering hot tubes of cabbage and pork goodness that I’d get at the local restaurant but they’d suffice. And some brownie mix. Oh man, brownie mix. Or maybe a chocolate cake?
These thoughts led me to a new thought. How was I going to eat in the future? If there were people left, some may have the same ideas as me and they’d be breaking into the stores, if they hadn’t already. Shaking myself I tried to talk myself out of the panic I was feeling. I could NOT leave the house today.
It was starting to get dark anyway. I didn’t want to go out after dark. I couldn’t see what was around me. There was a grocery store not far away though. Maybe a mile away. And they sold ice cream cakes. I didn’t want to let those melt into obscurity did I? Oh man, I was doing it again. I can’t go out, that’s final. It’s not happening. And then I thought of all the spring mix salads that were just sitting on the shelves turning into slop in their containers. Days of Vienna sausages had made me ravenous. I was going to have to go out. Maybe the dark would actually help me? Maybe I’d find a turkey! Oh man, where’s my flashlight?
Am I really going to do this? I found the flashlight, I’ve covered everything I could with thick layers of what I hope is bite-proof cloth, wrapped my head in several winter hats, and my neck is girded like a 5-layer burrito in scarves. I’ve also got on leather gloves.
Knowing I’m going to have to carry most of the loot I bring home, I’ve found an old school bag. I won’t be able to carry a lot, but I’ll get some of it. I’d just bring a shopping cart home, but the noise would have every zombie in the area following me. For whom the zombie dinner bell tolls!
I can’t believe I’m about to do this. But another thought occurred to me while I was getting ready. Devilled eggs. There can be no Thanksgiving without devilled eggs. Or potato salad. Then I remembered something else; the grocery store has a pharmacy inside of it. I can do my shopping and get my meds. Woohoo!
Just in case, I’m taking a screw driver and an old baseball bat of my father’s with me. Ya never know what might happen, right? So here I go, out the front door, through the gate…I swear, I’m about to open the front door.
Chapter Three
Ok, so I’m still sitting here. I’m going to do it, though. I really am. I’m just checking out the scene. Making sure there’s no lurkers around. When you have seizures you’re totally helpless and the thought of having one with zombies around is enough to freeze you where you stand. But I’ve not had any in a while and I want my turkey! Ok, here goes. I’m going to do it!
At the front door I notice my left hand is shaking as I reach for the door knob. I snatch it back, rub it to try and steady myself, square my shoulders, then reach out again. I grasp the knob and turn.
Oh good grief, it stinks out here! I don’t really see any bodies or anything, but the smell is rancid. I’m trying not to do that cough thing you do just before you throw up and
throw my left hand over my mouth and nose to try to block the smell. It helps a little, but not much. Why does it stink so much? Is it all the bodies in the houses? Is that it?
I can’t tell, but realize I’m stalling, standing on the front porch. I look around, and don’t see anything. Of course, it’s almost dark now; I’m not going to see much anyway. That’s the only thing I don’t like about the autumn, it gets darker a whole lot earlier than it does in summer.
As I walk towards the gate I realize something. The gate’s locking mechanism is going to make noise as I open it. I need to make as little noise as possible so I’m going to have to do this carefully.
Walking up to the gate, I reach for it. I try to put some pressure on it to keep it quiet and open it slowly. No sound! Doing a brief happy dance I walk out of the gate and start to shut the gate. The loudest screeching I’d ever heard came from the gate.
Oh no! Shut it, shut it! I slammed the gate shut and ran!
I ran straight down the sidewalk, hoping my speed would outpace the rotting remnants of people that used to be my neighbors. Well, I guess they’re still my neighbors, technically, aren’t they? I ran until I was out of breath, through the now flashing stoplight, past the used car lot, hey was that a snowflake? And into the parking lot of a gas station. Oh man, Mexican restaurant! How I wish you were open!
Looking behind me I could see a few zombies, looking a bit confused but not able to do much more than stumble into each other. Figuring I was safe, I started to run the rest of the way to the grocery store. One more stop light and veer to the right. I’m so glad I wore the soft-soled running shoes. There was only a gentle slap as my feet hit the surface of the road. Turning to go into the parking lot I couldn’t see anything or anybody standing around. Standing by the bank located in the parking lot, I peeked around the corners, trying to figure out how to get in.
Seizures: A Tale of the Zombie Apocalypse Page 1
