Scattered
A Zombie-ish Apocalypse Story
Shannon Mayer
Copyright © 2011 Shannon Mayer
Electronic Edition
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Cover Art: Ryan Bibby- Novel Branding
Scattered
A Zombie-ish Apocalypse Story
You are what you eat.
- Ludwig Feuerbach, German philosopher
“The zombies in my video games don’t run this fast!” Dustin panted as we skidded around a corner and scrambled over a low fence.
I didn’t bother to point out, yet again, that they weren’t zombies. Not exactly, anyway. I glanced over my shoulder to see the three Nevermores still on our trail, their yellow hued skin glistening with sweat; freaky sideways rectangular pupils dilated and easily visible. Mouths hanging open, they snarled as a unit, then sped up, their arms and legs pumping hard. They were gaining on us.
Grabbing Dustin’s empty backpack, I jerked him to the right, yanking him after me as I ran for a house; slammed my shoulder into the door, busting through the light wooden frame.
“Get something to block the door,” I said as I kicked the door closed behind me.
Dustin ran deeper into the house, grabbed a chair and dragged it back. We jammed it under the handle as the Nevermores hit, shaking the frame.
“Annie,” Dustin whispered.
I turned to face him, pressing my back against the faux wooden panels.
“We’ll be okay, buddy.” I gave him a smile and a wink. Normally he would have believed me, but with only a thin barrier between us and the monsters, his face remained drawn. Afraid. He knew as well as I did that we were in a serious pile of shit.
With my body being shoved off the door with each slam of the Nevermores, I wracked my brain for an idea. Something, anything.
It was so hard to believe that only a few short weeks ago, I’d considered taking the miracle drug, Nevermore. It turned out to be a lucky twist of fate that my apartment was robbed; my credit cards stolen. No money, no drug for me.
Our parents hadn’t been so lucky. Mom had breast cancer, and as the drug touted a cure along with so many other fantastic claims, she was one of the first to take it. Dad took the shot because it also was reported to prevent cancer, Parkinson’s and a host of other diseases. The rest of the world, well, one of the side effects of the drug was that you lost weight without changing anything. It seemed too good to be true; we should have known better. Mom and dad had gone on vacation right before the outbreak; we hadn’t heard from them since. I didn’t expect, now, that we would.
My body was thrown off the door and I hit the green shag carpet, my hands and knees taking the brunt of the fall. Dustin helped me to my feet. We sprinted through the house and out the back into a small yard. There was no time to think, we just ran.
We burst out onto the road, doubling back on our own trail, slowing down for breath as we watched the three Nevermores who’d been chasing us break into the house. They would search it before getting back on our scent trail. This wasn’t the first time we’d been chased and I doubted it would be the last.
“Annie, we have to get food still,” Dustin said, keeping his voice low, adjusting the yet-to-be-filled bag on his back. He hadn’t let go of my hand yet. He was fourteen, but with the shift in the world’s food chain, he was no longer embarrassed to be seen with his older sister. Not that there was anyone to see us.
“Right. Let’s go down to the Safeway. We can see what’s left and then . . .”
“We can’t go home, can we?” he asked, his blue eyes wide, his lower lip trembling.
I shook my head, a mixed strand of purple and blond hair falling in front of my eyes. “No. We can’t.”
“I wish I never got that radio working.” He muttered, his fingers tightening over mine and then letting go.
I motioned for him to follow me and we ducked in and out of the shadows of buildings, finally making our way to the front of the Safeway store.
“Do you really think there might be food?” Dustin whispered as we crouched between two rows of shopping carts.
“I hope so. Once we get a little bit, we’ll head to the water and find a boat.”
Our plan was simple once we heard the radio announcement. Get food, get to a boat and get across the Georgia Straight to the mainland. There was a small group of people holding down the Vancouver airport and they were able to fly survivors out. It—the announcement—had come as we were down to our last three cans of food. The answer was obvious; we had to go. Whether Dustin wanted to or not.
“I hate water, Annie. You know that,” he whined as we crept toward the store. I ignored him. Broken glass and signs hanging askew were not a good indication that there was food left, but we had to try.
A single barking cough flattened us against the wall of the building. Again, Dustin reached for my hand and I took it, as much for myself as for him.
Carefully, I eased toward the door, my clothes catching on the brick façade; the scratchy sound seemed to echo down the street announcing our presence.
I peeked in, but didn’t see anything. Against the dark red brick I felt like we were a neon sign screaming, ‘Here we are, come and get us!’
Being in the open was not good. I took a breath, gave a tug on Dustin’s hand, and we crept into the shadowy building. Crouching in the corner closest to the door, we scanned the interior of the room.
Dustin started to pant, and I was afraid he would pass out, his breathing was so rapid. I put my mouth to his ear.
“Easy, buddy. There might not be anything in here but a stray dog. We don’t know what the noise was,” I whispered.
Not that we’d seen a stray dog since the second week of the outbreak, but that was beside the point. I needed him to calm down.
We sat in silence for nearly five minutes, long enough for my skin to begin to itch from the lack of movement. The fear of being in one place for too long ran hot in my blood.
Standing up, I led the way down the aisles. The produce section had a few rotten pieces of fruit, there was nothing left in the bakery and the next two aisles were cleaners and toiletries. Not exactly edible. A scent permeated the store, growing stronger the further in we got. It tickled my nose, not in a good way; I couldn’t put my finger on it.
We came around the corner from aisles 3 to 4 and froze. Crouched over a body was a smallish Nevermore, his back to us as he feasted.
We stepped back as a unit and hid in aisle 3. Dustin started to shake and tears welled up in his eyes, quickly spilling over onto his cheeks. I wiped them away and gave him a hug, all in complete silence. We knew too well not to make a noise with a Nevermore that close.
I pantomimed sneaking behind him with my hands and Dustin’s crying increased. I grabbed his arms and gave him a shake. This was not the time to break down. We needed food if we were to get out of here. I didn’t know how long it would take us to get across the water and we needed to
be prepared. Even if it was terrifying.
I went first, creeping along the pale linoleum floor, the scent of blood and eviscerated bowels assaulting my senses; that was what I’d smelled earlier. I put my hand over my mouth and pinched my nose; tried not to gag as the Nevermore slurped up something long, wet and stringy.
Dustin, trembling so hard I wasn’t sure he would make it, slowly inched his way behind the Nevermore. Mid way, his running shoe hit a patch of moisture and let out the softest of squeaks, freezing all three of us.
The Nevermore let out a low growl and began to turn his head back toward our original hiding spot. I motioned for Dustin to jump, run, something but he just stood there, shaking.
There was only a split second for me to make a decision. I reached out and grabbed him, yanking him with me down the next aisle. The Nevermore let out a querying grunt and I held my breath. The shuffle of feet, the slide of a body on the linoleum floor. He was dragging it away from us.
I let out a breath.
“Sorry,” Dustin whispered.
I glared at him, my fear turning into anger. He was going to get us both killed. We worked our way in and out of the aisles, managing to pick up a little food. Some baby food (mashed peas and carrots), a few cans of tomatoes, and a single box of no-name cereal. It wasn’t exactly a feast, but it would have to do for now.
We reached the far side of the store, listening for the Nevermore dragging his kill, but hearing nothing.
The last aisle was bread and jam-we hit the jackpot. There were four cans of jam and two containers of peanut butter. I clamped down on the urge to squeal. We hadn’t eaten anything sweet or that rich in protein in at least two weeks. Subsisting on the local berries that had come into season and a large bag of rice had left us craving something of substance.
Stuffing the jars into the knapsack, I took the now heavy bag from Dustin. He smiled up at me, the corners of his lips trembling. I ran my hand over his head, the blond hair ruffling under my fingers.
A massive screech followed by a thunderous tumble of something heavy snapped us both low and into a crouch. We scuttled forward and peeked around the corner. There stood our three hunters, the Nevermores who’d chased us for the last few hours.
“Damn.” Apparently I’d said that aloud because their heads snapped toward us. Our eyes met, fear suffused my whole body as their eyes filled with an intensity that made me flinch.
I pulled back and Dustin followed me. Then the howling of the hunting pack began, echoing through the store, reverberating in my skull. Dustin was panting beside me and a quick glance showed his face tight and pale. We ran.
Passing each aisle, I could see flashes of the Nevermores running to where they’d last seen us. After the third one flashed by, I spun and ran down the nearest aisle, filled with cooking utensils and spices, heading toward the open doors at the front of the store.
“Annie!” Dustin screeched, and I slipped in some canola oil as I tried to turn, my hands reaching out for him as I fell. My eyes could barely take in what I was seeing, my heart pumping with fear.
The largest of the males had Dustin by the back of his shirt with his mouth, a low growl rippling around the fabric.
“Slip out of the shirt.” I screamed. There was no point in being quiet now. They knew we were here.
Dustin squirmed and wiggled and the male Nevermore wrapped an arm around my little brother’s middle. I was on one knee, my feet and hands slick with oil. Very slowly I stood, taking even, careful steps toward them. A second Nevermore and then the third appeared behind Dustin and his captor. I slipped off the pack and slowly unscrewed the lid on one of the peanut butter containers.
Dipping my fingers into the soft paste I pulled them out and stuck them in my mouth. My saliva glands kicked into overtime as the salty sweet peanut flavour stuck to my teeth and tongue. The smell quickly filled the small space around us and the Nevermores lifted their noses in the air.
“You want this?” I asked, smacking my lips together. The two smaller Nevermores let out low whimpers. I waved the jar in front of them and they followed it, like dogs after a bone in their master’s hand.
One last wave and I threw the jar, over their heads to the back of the store. The two of them went scrambling and snarling after it, but the male who held Dustin didn’t loosen up an inch.
“Dustin, I’m going to . . .” I didn’t get to finish my sentence. A crack resounded through the store and something whizzed by my right ear, the heat of it searing my skin. My hand clamped on that side of my face and I dropped to the ground. The male who held Dustin loosened his grip, a perfect round hole in the middle of his forehead appearing, as if by magic.
“Come on, you two.”
Dustin leapt toward me and I caught him, his arms tightening painfully around my neck. “Come on, buddy, we’ve got to go,” I said.
He loosened his grip and we slid down the rest of the aisle toward our rescuer.
She was a big woman in a bright orange and yellow muumuu that had perhaps fit her tighter at one point in her life. The swirl of colour contrasted with the black rifle she carried and it was all my brain could take in and process in that moment.
“Come on then, you two. Unless you want to stick around for the others to show up? They really are drawn to gunfire; seem to know it’s a kill of some sort.”
We followed her without a word outside to a large station wagon.
“Get in if you’re getting in then. Crazy world, all these people taking shots, turning into monsters.” She grabbed my arm and put her face into mine, taking me by surprise. “I told them this would happen, no one listened. They threw me out of every medical center. I tried to convince them.”
She was spitting on me by the end of it and I squinted my eyes to keep them clear of the foamy white spray. She let me go and I wiped my face.
Dustin stood trembling and I pushed him into the car. The woman was obviously not in her right mind, but she had a vehicle and she was shooting the Nevermores. At this point, we couldn’t take another chance on our own. We needed help to survive this mess.
She started the engine up just as a pack of Nevermores came around the corner of the Safeway, drawn by the noise of the gun. She revved the engine and started to laugh as the pack rushed us. Dustin let out a whimper and buried his face in my arms.
“We’ve got to go!” I yelled at her, clinging to Dustin, my fear spiking as the pack drew close.
She didn’t answer, just threw the car in gear and hit the gas, peeling out of the parking lot. The pack howled their anger and frustration, but quickly gave up.
A few moments passed in silence before I mustered up the strength to speak to our rescuer.
“I’m Annie, this is my brother Dustin.” I paused. “Thank you for saving us.”
She grunted but didn’t say anything.
I tried again. “Did you hear about the airport? People are getting flown to safety. We’re going to find a boat and cross the strait. You could come with us if you want.”
I cringed even as I put out the offer. We would have to find a much bigger, sturdier boat if she decided to come along.
She didn’t answer me. Just focused on her driving, scooting around any debris or parked vehicles as she made her way North up the island toward Nanaimo.
Dustin tucked his face close to my ear. “I think she’s crazy.”
I nodded. If she hadn’t been nuts before, the strain of the outbreak had sent her over the deep end. My stomach let out a growl and I pulled the backpack around, opening up our bounty.
“Would you like something to eat?” I asked. Again there was no response. I shrugged, and Dustin and I dipped our no-name brand cereal—each individual flake—into our now only peanut butter jar. It was divine, the sweet sugary starch of the would-be cornflake with the salty thick paste of the peanut butter left me nearly moaning with pleasure.
As we entered the southern outskirts of Nanaimo, she began to slow the car down.
“Is something wron
g?” I asked. I motioned at Dustin and he screwed the lid back on the peanut butter and tucked the remains of our meal into the back pack.
She didn’t answer me, just pulled the car to the curb and turned the engine off.
“Excuse me, are you okay?” I reached forward and touched her shoulder.
That was a mistake.
She let out a snarl that would be the envy of any Nevermore and I found myself staring down the long black tube of the rifle.
“What are you doing in my car?” She screamed at me, her face purple with rage.
The blood drained from my face, I could feel it slide down through my body and pool in the pit of my stomach.
“You asked us to come with you,” Dustin said, and even though the words were not exact, it was close enough.
“LIARS!” She screamed and the gun swung into the air as she seemed to have a fit or a seizure of some sort, screaming and frothing at the mouth.
Without another thought, I grabbed the handle and flung the heavy panelled door open, tumbling out into the street. Dustin was right behind me, the woman in her brilliant muumuu screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Run.” Was all I said as the first shot of the rifle echoed around us.
We stumbled and lurched toward the closest building—a gas station—ducking inside just as a pack of Nevermores crept forward, surrounding her station wagon. She screamed and the Nevermores answered back with their hunting howl that raised the hairs all over my body.
En masse, they launched at the vehicle and the prize within. A few shots rang out, then she began to scream, and then laugh, and finally, there was silence.
We slid back through the dim interior of the building and crouched behind the counter. We were far from safe, but I was exhausted and needed to rest.
“We’ll stay here for a bit. Then we’ll go looking for a boat,” I said. Dustin nodded and curled up next to me, his eyes drifting shut immediately.
But I couldn’t sleep. The horror and fresh fear still thrumming through my veins made my blood pump too fast. Every little sound, scrape and shuffle of movement snapped me to attention. After two hours, I woke Dustin up; I couldn’t sit still any longer.
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