Kyler slammed the brakes on to come to a skidding stop. He opened the door and jumped out of the truck. The scoutmaster slid into the front seat and fumbled around until he fell face first on the concrete of the road. Kyler was already running around to the passenger side of the truck. He grabbed the passenger door to open it. The damned door was locked. The scoutmaster came around the side of the truck and let one of those eerie screams out. It was answered by one of the Zombies in the pack running along after the truck. That answering scream was way too close for comfort. Kyler jumped into the truck bed as the scoutmaster tried to grab him.
He’d dodged the scoutmaster, but he’d landed on the corpse of the man he’d hit head on. He scrambled up and over that body and jumped over the side of the truck to land on the ground on the driver’s side. He jumped for the open door but was tackled from behind and thrown to the ground. He rolled on the concrete a few times with his attacker and came out on top. He fumbled for his knife as he looked down at the face of the demon who’d jumped him. It was his mom. Her eyes blazed with hatred. She slobbered and spit and gnashed her teeth. Kyler had his knife in his hand but instead of plunging it into her he jumped up and tried for the door again.
The scoutmaster intercepted him this time. He’d ran around the car and been approaching Kyler from behind as he was attacked by his mom. Kyler grabbed the scoutmaster’s shoulders and shoved him backwards. A giant flap of skin on the man’s face was bouncing around revealing the bone underneath. Kyler almost froze on seeing that. It would’ve been the end of him if he had. His mom had crawled along the ground and was reaching for his leg and the fastest of the group giving chase had almost arrived.
Kyler swung the knife as his dad had taught him. He swung it the same way he’d practiced in the mirror in his room thousands of times. It was something his dad had taught him how to do so he’d practiced it over and over again. It was another of those little habits he kept up to feel close to his dad and keep those memories and that love wrapped around him like a security blanket. He swung, and he connected. He’d hit the scoutmaster full force in the temple with the hilt of the large combat knife. It put the scoutmaster on his ass and he didn’t look like he was getting up any time soon.
Unknowingly missing the grip of his mother’s hand grasping for his ankle Kyler leapt into the truck and slammed the door shut. Looking around wildly to figure out which way he needed to go he saw he was right at the access road he needed to turn on to get back to the troop. He slammed the truck into drive and made the turn onto the access road. He accelerated recklessly in an attempt to make the best time possible and put plenty of distance between himself and the people chasing him. He needed to get back to the camp and convince everyone that he’d just experienced what appeared to be the beginning of a full-on Zombie apocalypse. He couldn’t think of another way to describe it.
He figured he’d have about five to ten minutes to explain it to them before the Zombies started showing up to the party. He considered turning around and going the other way instead of leading the Zombies straight to the troop. If he didn’t warn the troop though then they’d be blissfully unaware of what was going on. They’d probably stroll on up to the road to be eaten all on their own. Thinking of the time he’d have to convince them and what would happen if he couldn’t convince them Kyler put his foot down a little harder on the accelerator.
Behind him the shell of his mom slowly rose back to her feet and started following the sounds of the truck accelerating. All around her, the other Zombies were doing the same. She hadn’t recognized her son. All she’d seen was an uninfected human. Uninfected humans filled her with rage. They filled her with a blood lust to rend and tear their flesh. She was driven by an insatiable hunger for uninfected flesh. She wasn’t his mother anymore. That woman was dead. She was just a walking tower of flesh with a single purpose. Infect the rest of humanity. The virus had owned her since she’d first been bitten.
Chapter 4: Date Night
“What do you mean we’re not going anywhere? Why didn’t you tell me before I got dressed up?” Kelly was standing in the bathroom door with a towel wrapped around her body. She’d done her makeup and hair though so as far as she was concerned, she was dressed for a night out.
Randy still had on the same clothes he’d been wearing all day. He was feeling a little ripe at this point and had been looking forward to getting some shower time. Kelly had finished in the shower about thirty minutes ago, but he’d known better than to try and slip in. The slightest bit of mist making her sweat or hiding parts of the mirror from her could ruin an otherwise fun night. Deciding it was the storms fault and not his he started kicking off his clothes. Kelly looked around the corner of the bathroom to see what he was doing and arched an eyebrow.
“Let me take a shower and we’ll throw some clothes on and hit the happy hour downstairs. This is a super nice hotel that’s used to catering to spoiled rich people, so they’re bound to be able to whip up some caviar sandwiches or something.”
“What’s the dress code for an ultra-exclusive lounge where everyone’s eating caviar sandwiches while a hurricane tries to kill them?” Kelly was torn between a comfortable pair of jeans or the sexy looking black dress she’d been planning to wear for their first night out on the island. Ignoring Randy’s attempt to figure out what type of clothes should be worn she decided on the dress. Her mom had always told her it’s better to be overdressed than underdressed. She took the dress into the bedroom and told Randy to go take his shower.
He was in and out of the bathroom in ten minutes. Fully dressed and ready to go. He stopped as he was running gel through his short hair and whistled. Where he looked like he was headed to the office for the day with some dress pants, a white shirt, and a sports coat Kelly looked like she was on her way to a televised awards show. The black dress looked sensational on her.
“Does this look ok?” Kelly asked him. It was a new purchase but based on how he couldn’t take his eyes off of her she knew she’d successfully avoided being quizzed on the cost of the dress. Which was a good thing because the price tag had made her pause, even after she fell in love with the dress.
Randy held out his arm and Kelly grabbed ahold of it. He escorted her out of the room and down the hall. They’d switched from the arm holding thing to just holding hands by the time they got to the staircase. Walking down the stairs they heard laughter drifting up from the restaurant below. There was also the aroma of delicious food wafting its way up the stairs. Randy realized he was drooling a little bit. They hadn’t stopped for lunch today as they’d been trying to make it to the ferry on time. He’d grabbed a hotdog on the ferry, but Kelly had skipped eating because she’d wanted to have room for a nice fancy dinner.
Based on the smells drifting up to them he thought she may have had the right idea. At the bottom of the stairs a waiter in formal clothing held a silver tray with some sort of little appetizers on them.
“Caviar sir? Ma’am?” The man asked them as they arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Classical music drifted down from the overhead speakers. Randy took the offered cracker with the caviar spread on it. Mostly to gross out Kelly who was disgusted by seafood. Another waiter walked up to them and handed them both a flute of chilled champagne.
“This is more like it.” Kelly said as she sipped at the champagne. They kept walking towards the lounge looking area. Once they’d reached the lounge, they realized it was actually a full-service restaurant. The entrance had looked small, but it opened up into a decent sized space. The Maître D’ greeted them at the entrance and walked them to a cozy table in the corner. Once there he shook out a white napkin into Randy’s lap and a black napkin into Kelly’s before handing them both a large piece of paper with the dinner options on it.
“Fancy. Seems like I did ok for our first night after all.” Randy said while looking through the dishes listed on the paper. There was a lot of seafood but fortunately there was also a couple of steak and chicken options, so Kelly would be
happy.
“You did ok. Order us a fancy bottle of expensive wine and don’t chow down on Nemo and you might get to sleep in the bed tonight.”
“If the hotel doesn’t get blown into the ocean.” Randy joked as the howling wind outside became audible over the low-key music and casual conversation in the dining room. There were only a few other couples who’d ventured out to eat this evening. Randy assumed they were all guests at the hotel as well since driving in the mess outside would’ve been horrifying. “Although if it does at least we won’t have to pay off the credit cards after this bottle of wine. I wonder if they offer a financing plan for dinner?”
“Shut up and find something that doesn’t have a screw top on it. Have you noticed how all the servers keep hanging out over by the bar staring at the TV?” Kelly was looking curiously towards the servers and other staff who were all over by the bar checking out something on the TV. At least they were all looking towards where the TV should be. Randy couldn’t see anything from where he was seated.
Their waiter walked over to fill up their water glasses and drop off a basket of freshly baked croissants. He asked if they’d picked out a wine yet and Randy asked for a bottle of the house red. Mostly because it was the only one under a hundred dollars that he could find on the list. The waiter started to walk away when Kelly asked him about what everyone was watching on the TV.
“Some kind of revolts going on all over the world. They have footage of some cities in South America where the people are just charging the army bare handed and the police forces and attacking them. Pretty crazy stuff. I’ll grab your wine and be right back.” The waiter walked away while Kelly proclaimed the croissants to be absolutely worthy of the carbs she’d absorb while eating them.
“I caught some footage earlier of the riots he’s talking about. They were saying on the news up in our room while you were in the shower that the rebels were charging the police forces and just getting mowed down but they kept on coming. No telling what’s really going on in those countries.”
“As long as the crazy stays outside the border of the US we’re good. I’m going with the chicken. How about you?” Kelly pointed out the chicken she was ordering and made sure Randy ordered something she could eat if it turned out she didn’t like the chicken.
They wrapped up dinner and were getting ready to pay the bill and leave when the waiter asked if they wanted dessert. Both of them were trying to avoid desserts so they could avoid the treadmill when they got back from vacation, so they declined. Five minutes later the waiter walked back to their table with their bill, which would just be billed to their room, and a small tray of miniature tortes.
“Chef’s compliments!” The waiter said. Beaming as he stood there holding the tray full of calories. Abandoning all pretense at avoiding the desserts Randy and Kelly dug in. Once they’d finished off the tray of deliciousness they wandered over to the bar.
The scenes on the TV were barbaric. The bartender saw them watching and asked if they’d like him to change it. They told him no and ordered a couple of drinks to walk around the hotel with. The hotel was a lot more spacious than they’d thought based on the rather confining lobby where they’d checked in at. The storm kept them from exploring the grounds or doing anything else, so they decided to go back upstairs and get ready for bed.
They passed out early after having spent the day traveling. Neither one of them was used to drinking that much. They fell asleep with the TV still blaring on the news channel. It kept repeating the same footage of the riots. Occasionally the riots would go off the air while the talking heads discussed how the violence was all a result of the leadership of certain countries embracing socialism. A few of them blamed it on the war on drugs. None of them had a clue what it was really about.
Chapter 5: The Pantry
Brenda stood over the preacher. He looked up at her with fear in his eyes. She looked down at him with revulsion. Casting aside her desire to beat the tarnished holy man senseless she went to check on Doreen. Doreen was her grandbaby who’d had her arm smashed when the preacher tried slamming the door shut to keep the Zombies out. It would’ve also kept Brenda and the little girl she’d just rescued from getting back in.
Brenda squatted down next to Doreen and held the crying girls’ arm. Doreen pulled away from her. Brenda patiently sidled back next to Doreen again and started rubbing her head while the little girl sniffled and held her arm. The sobs were breaking Brenda’s heart. She fought down the urge to get up and go beat the preachers head in. His cowardice had broken her grandbabies arm.
“I found some first aid stuff.” Caitlyn whispered the information to Brenda and waited to see what should be done. Despite being almost old enough to drive Caitlyn was still the kind of girl who asked permission for everything. She was super helpful and great with the children, but the lack of initiative could be annoying at times. Everyone hoped she’d outgrow it because outside of that she was an angel.
“Anything we can use to set a broken arm?” Brenda asked her.
“There’s plenty of tape and I’m sure we can find something straight then we can make a sling out of gauze. Did Pastor Methot try to close the door on you?” The pantry was dark. Brenda hadn’t really seen too much of what was in here yet. She’d been completely focused on making sure her grandkids were all safe. Now that she knew they were safe for the moment it was time to start making plans.
“He did. Don’t trust the coward. I’m sorry I’ve been bringing you to hear his sermons all this time. I thought he was godly, but I guess he’s just a good actor. We’ll figure out what to do with him later. For now, let’s get Dorie fixed up and comfortable then we’ll figure out what comes next.”
Brenda and Caitlyn worked on finding something straight to use to MacGyver a cast for Doreen. Brenda was shocked at all the supplies they found in the closet. Stacks of bottled water and canned food filled the shelves. First aid supplies, vitamins and medicine were arranged in orderly rows. The closet they were hiding in must be the repository for all the charitable drives the church conducted throughout the year. Brenda became angrier as she worked on securing Doreen’s arm using the tape, gauze and a ruler they found. There’d even been a handful of school drive type supplies.
“When were you going to let everyone know about this closet full of supplies? Pastor?” Brenda asked loudly through clenched teeth.
Pastor Methot sat up to answer her. “I was saving this closet as a last resort to let everyone – “
“You mean you were saving it to save yourself you coward. You know you broke my little girls arm right?”
“I didn’t – “
“Just shut up. Just shut up. I hear you talk again. I think I may have to bash your face in. Sit there and don’t talk. You get near one of my girls or try to offer any advice I will hurt you. When I ask you a question you answer it. You don’t add anything to it. Just answer my questions. Do you understand?”
“Just let me explain – “
“Do you understand?” Brenda roared out. Her raised voice was heard by the Zombies in the hallway. They started beating on the heavy wooden door. Doreen and Zoey both started crying. Brenda immediately felt sorry for the outburst in front of the kids.
“I understand.” The pastor said in a voice that failed to conceal his terror at having the Zombies beating on the door right outside this last sanctuary.
“What’s this closet we’re in?” Brenda asked the disgraced pastor
“It’s the closet we use to store the supplies we collect for families that need help. It’s mostly for after hurricanes and that sort of thing. We pull out of this stock when we need to for the other charities we partner with too. Like if the battered women shelter needs cases of water or food or something like that.”
“What about battered three-year-old girls? When you’re break their arms trying to keep their grandma from rescuing another little girl who’s fixing to be killed. Just shut up now. I don’t want to hear your voice for a while. I can’t be
lieve I brought my grandchildren to listen to your fake services.” Brenda was fuming. She was so mad she’d almost forgotten about the Zombies beating on the door trying to get in.
“I’m sorry. I hope one day you can forgive me. The other end of this pantry has a door to the courtyard. It’s how we distributed the supplies. I was just thinking it may be a way for us to escape.”
Brenda made sure Doreen was ok and then got up and walked over to where the pastor was sitting at. She turned on her phone, so she could have some light to see the slime ball by. The pastor looked up and gave her the smile she’d seen him give the parishioners so often from the pulpit. She swung the can of baked beans she’d picked up off one of the food shelves at the side of his head as hard as she could. She felt the shock of connection all the way up to her shoulder. The pastor fell over sideways with blood tickling out of his mouth. He tried to sit back up and she hit him again with the dented can. He slumped to the floor in a lifeless heap. Brenda reached over and made sure he was still alive then walked away from the man before her anger took over and she finished the job.
Brenda went back to looking after her grandbabies and trying to figure out the best course of action for them. She just hadn’t been able to abide the fact that the lying bastard who’d hurt her granddaughter had been sitting over there smiling. That same smile he’d used to lie to them all these years from the pulpit. A smile that had hid his cowardice from his flock. Brenda had sensed it somehow. She’d known to watch him when the end was close. She’d known he’d have a hole to slither into to save his own skin. Snakes always did.
A Small World Page 4