Savage glared at the girl but she did not waver.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” he replied.
“She’s Chris’s grandmother,” Lisa explained. “It’s just she’s got a bad heart and she hasn’t got her pills and I know you’ve got the first aid kit and I thought—”
“Miss Snow.” Savage held up a hand to cut her off. “Look around. What do you see?”
Lisa looked left, then right, then right again.
“Uh, tables?” she suggested brightly.
“You see civilization on the brink,” he said, carefully enunciating each word. “But we still have the system, we have rules. And what does the system say we should do to survive?”
“Eat an apple a day,” Lisa replied confidently.
Savage shook his head. The girl was an idiot.
“Help one another?” she guessed.
He leaned in until she could feel his bristly beard against her ear.
“Prioritize,” he hissed before going back to counting the bottles of water in front of him.
“So you’re not going to help, then?” Lisa asked, her voice shaking.
“I am helping, Miss Snow,” Savage replied. “I’m helping the people who stand a chance. Now if you don’t mind, I’m rather busy.”
* * *
Savage looked up from his position at the front of the room where he was guarding the supplies. This wasn’t exactly what he’d planned to do with his Christmas break, but he had to admit, a crisis certainly brought out the best in him. He’d always suspected he was a born leader, and now it was confirmed. When this was all over, perhaps a run for local government was in order. Head of a local school was a waste of his talents. He owed it to himself, nay, the world, to take control. Besides, the way things were going, most of the kids were going to be zombies soon enough.
“The ones that aren’t already,” he said to himself, sniggering at his own joke.
Without warning, bright, white light filled the room, followed by an earsplitting explosion. It disappeared as quickly as it came, but the survivors in Little Haven High School began to panic.
“Stay calm, everybody,” Savage called as the whispers began to rise to a rumble. “Stick to your designated areas and let the army do their job.”
There was silence for a moment and then a rally of gunfire, followed by a blood-curdling scream.
“People are dying out there!” Julie yelled, clambering to her feet. Tony scrambled up right beside her, forcing a brave face. He squeezed Lisa’s hand as she wiped away another stray tear. Hope was fading fast.
“It’s going to be okay,” he promised. “You watch Bea, I’ll check the doors.”
While Savage continued to bark orders, Tony grabbed his toolbox and took himself off to test the barricades.
“You keep on talking,” he said under his breath. “It’s all you’re bloody good for.”
He could see things were taking a turn for the worse. People were starting to lose faith that anyone was coming. How could it be taking them this long? The army had guns, they had tanks, they had so many weapons. There was no way they wouldn’t win this.
“Just got to stay here,” he said, tugging on his DIY defenses, one after the other. The barricades held firm and so did he. “People are relying on you, you big daft idiot.”
But what about Anna…?
It was too much. He’d been holding it together for a whole day, and he had no idea where his little girl was, no idea if she was a zombie, no idea if he’d ever even see her again. He broke down, big juddering sobs taking over his whole body as he leaned forward against the wall and let the tears come.
“Mr. Shepherd, can I get a—”
He sniffed and straightened immediately, wiping his face on his sleeve. Lisa stood behind him, mouth hanging open and feeling extremely awkward.
“Can I get a pillow for Bea?” she asked quietly.
Better not ask if he’s okay, she decided. She knew he wasn’t, and it seemed cruel to make him pretend.
“I’ll be there in a minute, love,” Tony said, keeping his back to Lisa. “Almost done here.”
He checked the rest of the doors and windows; his cobbled-together defenses were as sturdy as they could be. Just as he was about to go back into the cafeteria, he saw a flash of gunfire in the near distance, someone running fast. Could it be Anna? Pressing himself up against the window, Tony squinted, closing one eye to get a better view between the boards he’d put up against the glass. Instantly, he wished he hadn’t. The world outside that window was not one he knew. Fires raged, cars were overturned, and there were tanks just beyond the school parking lot. Tanks! But even more disturbing than the heavy artillery were those creatures. He’d seen a few of them the night before, but there were more, so many more.
He pressed closer, trying to get a better look when one of them crashed against the window, nothing but a thin pane of safety glass and his own wooden barricades holding them apart. It thrashed wildly, snapping its jaws as though it might be able to chew through the window. Its skin was gray and thin, and one of its eyeballs was missing. Tony wasn’t much for scary movies, but he’d seen a couple in his time.
“It can’t be,” he breathed as the creature continued to bash its own head against the window over and over, patches of flesh and skin peeling away from its skull. “There’s no such thing as zombies.”
Regardless, he scooted away from the window and staggered back into the cafeteria.
“Tony?” Julie said as he sat back down on the floor, shaking. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied, bundling up his jacket and passing it to Lisa. “Here, it’s for Bea. It’s the best I can do, I’m afraid.”
Lisa took the makeshift pillow with a grateful smile and slid it under the old lady’s head as she whimpered quietly in her sleep. Turning his back on the room, Tony lay down and pressed the home button on his dying phone as the fluorescent lights flickered out again. A photo of Anna, looking back over her shoulder and smiling, lit up in the darkness.
* * *
Thunderballs was closer to the action than the school. Still surrounded by the bodies of the bachelor party from hell, John, Anna, Chris, and Steph gathered together around the snack counter. Somehow, John found the strength to chew on a stick of beef jerky while the others watched Steph refresh her internet browser over and over. Anna stared at John with a look of disbelief. “How can you possibly be hungry?” John shrugged and finished his jerky.
The same blindingly white explosion that had rocked the school blinded the bowling alley for a split second before fading away, taking the electric lights with it.
“That’s fine, right?” John said, through a mouthful of meat. His eyes adjusted to the dark far too quickly for his liking. He could still see the zombie that he’d impaled on a broomstick a couple of feet away.
“I mean, they probably need to blow things up.”
“Shut up,” Steph ordered, holding her breath as gunfire shattered the silence, followed by ear-piercing screams and more gunfire.
“I don’t think it’s fine,” Anna said, checking her phone. It was just a reflex now; she didn’t really expect to see any signal but she couldn’t stop herself from doing it.
“Guys, look!” Steph jumped up and waved them all over to her laptop. “I got a signal!”
The news pages on the computer screen flickered to life, refreshing slowly, each line of the stories stuttering into being. As the page filled with bad news, Steph’s face turned white. THOUSANDS DEAD IN MEXICO CITY. NORTH AMERICAN EPIDEMIC SPREADS. MARTIAL LAW DECLARED.
“Steph.” Anna put her hand on the other girl’s shoulder as the wifi signal disappeared again, filling her computer screen with a static image of chaos and despair. “It doesn’t mean—”
“Yeah, it does.”
She slammed the laptop shut as she cut Anna off. Brushing her hair out of her face, she pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers and walked a few steps away. Anna turned t
o John, who was busy tucking his sweater into his trousers. Without electricity, there was no heating and without heating, it was as cold as a meat locker inside the bowling alley.
“Give her a minute,” John whispered, nudging his friend in the arm as they stood side by side, staring out the tinted windows. Thankfully, it was difficult to make out exactly what was happening. Flashes of gunfire and occasional explosions lit up the scene, but even if they couldn’t hear, they could see. And it did not sound like anyone was going door-to-door singing Christmas carols out there.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Anna said, dropping her head on her friend’s shoulder. “Poor Steph.”
“Yeah,” John said, hardly daring to breathe. “I can’t imagine not knowing if my girlfriend was still alive. If I had a girlfriend. Which I don’t.”
“Isn’t it mental?” Anna asked, completely missing his awkward rambling. “Yesterday, I was so stressed out about going traveling. Now I don’t even know if there’s anywhere to travel to.”
“And I’m not nearly as worried about whether or not I got into art school.” John laughed. “So I suppose there’s even a silver lining to a zombie apocalypse!”
“I mean, there had to be at least one,” Anna said, cracking a smile before another sobering, blindingly white blast shook the building. She covered her eyes with one hand and grabbed John with the other. She had never in her life been so thankful for her best friend. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Steph with her arms around Chris, a tight smile on her face.
“You know what they say,” John said with a sigh. “You’ve got to hold on to what you’ve got. It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not.”
“Yeah,” Anna agreed before turning to look at her friend. “Hang on, aren’t they the lyrics from ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’?”
“Clever old fella, that Jon Bon Jovi.” John nodded.
“And I thought you’d already hit peak sad,” she said, taking his hand in hers again. “Impressive, my friend.”
She wasn’t alone and she wasn’t defeated. Just like John Wise and Jon Bon Jovi said, they had each other and that was a lot. Maybe there had to be a way out of this, and if there was, Anna would be the one to find it.
16
“OH SHIT.”
Anna jerked awake and saw balls flying everywhere. It took her a moment to remember where she was and as soon as she did, she wished she could forget again. She’d passed out in the ball pit, intentionally burying herself should more zombies somehow get into the bowling alley. Luckily, that hadn’t happened “What’s wrong?” she asked, rolling herself forward on all fours until she reached solid ground. Chris was glued to the tinted window at the front of the bowling alley.
“The snow’s gone!” he replied, genuine surprise in his voice. “I was hoping for a white Christmas.”
“Fucking hell, Chris!” Anna said as Steph and John yawned themselves awake in their respective spots. “What about the army?”
“See for yourself.”
He turned away from the window as Anna cupped her hands around her eyes to better see what was happening. John and Steph lined up beside her.
The army had lost. The number of zombies aimlessly wandering around in the parking lot had doubled, dozens of them wearing military fatigues. A tank stood in the middle of the street, its cannon pointing up into the sky with half of a human being hanging out of the top hatch.
“Everyone’s dead,” Steph said slowly.
“People will be waiting at the school,” Anna said with determination. “We just need to get there.”
“Look!” Steph jabbed her finger against the glass at the bloody scenes outside. “There’s no evacuation coming, Anna! Everyone is dead. Everyone!”
Anna couldn’t afford to start thinking that way. She just couldn’t. “So we’ll get your car and leave town,” she answered, kneeling down to tighten her shoelace.
“And go where?” Steph asked, still staring out at the bodies scattered around on the cold concrete. Tears slowly trickled down Chris’s cheeks as he turned his attention from the weather to the carnage in front of him.
“I don’t know yet but we’ll figure something out,” Anna replied. “I’ll come up with a plan.”
“Oh, of course, I forgot,” Steph said with her usual sarcasm. “You can do anything.”
It was all too much. The bodies, the zombies, the eerie quiet, Chris’s silent tears.
“I’m getting my dad, all right?” she shouted.
No one said anything.
“And my gran.” Chris sniffed. “And Lisa.”
Steph shook her head as she walked away. Maybe they were all the same age, but they were acting like clueless kids. The writing was on the wall, right next to the sergeant major’s small intestine.
“I wanna get my mum, too,” John said. The lights on his Christmas pullover had almost stopped lighting up completely. “But how do we get past all the zombies?”
“We can’t stay here,” Steph admitted. “We’re basically an all-you-can-eat zombie buffet.”
“Like at Pizza Hut,” Chris replied, his eyes glazing over at the thought of unlimited breadsticks. He flicked his hoodie up over his head and watched a few loose plastic balls fly out and graze Steph in the chest.
“I could go for a meat feast right now,” John rambled. “And a giant full-calorie Coke and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s and a desert island with swimming pool because I hate sand and preferably no zombies.”
“I’ve had an idea,” Chris said, a grin reappearing on his face. “And it’s the best idea ever.”
* * *
“This is the stupidest idea ever,” Steph muttered, minutes later. “I want to go on record as having said that before we get eaten.”
The streets of Little Haven were a living nightmare. Everything they knew and took for granted, turned inside out and set on fire. Everywhere they turned, there was a new nightmare. Soldiers ripped in two, their insides on the outside, random body parts scattered far and wide. In the distance, they saw the town Christmas tree burning like a warning beacon, telling anyone who might see it to stay away. And in the middle of it all, a bright blue overturned swimming pool / makeshift ball pit waddled down the center of the street on four pairs of very unsteady legs.
“We’re all going to die,” Steph said as they bumped into a wall for the umpteenth time.
Chris, at the head of the ball pit, held his phone out in front of them, scouting a clear route. It had charged a little overnight, but there was still no signal.
“Want to play a game?” John asked. “It always helps me keep my mind off of things when I’m car sick.”
“Because this is exactly the same,” Anna muttered, crouching low underneath the blue plastic.
“I’ve got it,” Chris replied. “Steph, you first. Marry, shag, kill. Zombie Miley, Zombie Rihanna, Zombie Beyoncé.”
“Kill all of them,” Steph answered without hesitation. “They’re zombies.”
“Play it properly,” Chris whined, guiding the gang around a stray arm.
Not for the first time, Steph looked at him like he was a complete idiot.
“Jesus, fine.” She blew out a heavy breath. “Marry Beyoncé…”
“Why are you killing Rihanna?” John asked in a high-pitched squeal.
“I didn’t say that,” Steph answered, even though she was absolutely about to say that.
“Well, you’re obviously shagging Mi—” John cut off mid-sentence as the ball pit thumped into something. The gang dropped to the ground, hiding their legs under the plastic pit.
“Is it a horde?” John whispered, all thoughts of his beloved pop princesses forgotten.
“How many would it have to be to count as a horde?” Chris asked, sliding his phone carefully out from under the plastic.
“Just check!” Anna hissed, tucking her hair behind her ears, scared to death but ready to fight.
He peeked at his screen. A goofy grin spread across his face. “You won’t believe it.
”
“I swear, if he says the snow is gone again, so help me God,” Steph mumbled.
“Uh, better!” Chris replied, turning to his friends and showing them the photo he had just taken. “Killer old people!”
They had made it to the Little Haven Restful Days Care Home, where the town’s senior citizens came to rest. Or be turned into the merciless undead with an insatiable hunger for living flesh.
One or the other.
The old-aged pensioner zombies surrounded them, hobbling along with canes and walkers. One legless creature pulled itself along the ground as its entrails dragged along behind, leaving streaks of red along the concrete. It sniffed at the air and turned, slowly, toward the ball pit.
“What. The. Hell.”
Steph gasped and then froze as a heavy lump pressed against her head through the wall of the ball pit. Chris angled his phone out the bottom of the ball pit and snapped a pic.
“Yeah,” he whispered, taking a look at the photo. “You have an old woman sitting on your face.”
He held up the phone so everyone could see. It was a particularly unflattering angle, even for a zombie. Anna peeked out from underneath her side, looking for an escape, but instead she saw the legless creature, crawling toward them, picking up pace. It snapped its teeth, the scent of fresh meat driving it along the cold ground. Anna whipped the ball pit back down onto the ground.
Steph was equally keen to get away. Drip. Drip. Drip. Not rain. Not now. A dribbling sound ran down the side of their cover and liquid ran right past her face.
“Wait? Is she pissing?” Steph hissed in horror.
A zombie grandma was urinating on her face.
“You’re fine,” Anna whispered back, far more concerned with the legless threat outside and trying to stifle a giggle at the same time. “It’s plastic.”
“It’s warm plastic,” Steph snapped back. “This is the worst. Wet, warm, undead old person piss. It cannot get worse than this.”
“Pretty cool,” Chris said, tucking his phone away as they held the plastic cover down to the ground as tightly as possible. “Who knew zombies still needed to go for a wee?”
Anna and the Apocalypse Page 10
