Zombie Girl (The Zombie Girl Saga Book 1)

by A. Giacomi

  I leave the kitchen in search of Winston. I check the front room, but there is no sign of him, so I figure I will head upstairs. I have to unpack anyway.

  On the way to my room, I hear a whimper coming from my parents’ room. “Winston? Here, buddy…” But he doesn’t appear when I call.

  I follow the whimpering sound into my parents’ bedroom. I kneel on the ground next to their bed to take a look underneath, and sure enough, there is Winston.

  He is as far away from me as possible. The whimpering gets louder as I try to reach for him. He is afraid of me. “You know, don’t you, boy? You know there is something wrong with me.”

  I don’t want to scare him any further. I pick myself up off the ground and leave the room. I remember going to pick him out from a whole litter of puppies. He ran up to me and licked my face when I crouched down to greet him. He picked me, he picked our family, and I loved that damn dog! Now Winston doesn’t want anything to do with me. It feels like losing a family member; he’s been by my side for so many years. He is always the first one to greet me when I get home, by running to the door and jumping up on me as far as he can reach. I shut the door to my room so I won’t hear the whimpering anymore; I can’t stand it.

  I have every intention of unpacking but feel much too depressed at the moment. I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. There is my trusty Spider-man poster, but he brings me no comfort today.

  “Hey, Spidey, I’m too sad to talk right now,” I say out loud and then turn onto my side to face my window.

  My stomach growls so loudly that I think a demon might burst out of it. I hold it and tell it to shut up like it is a separate entity. I don’t want to be this.

  I get up and head over to one of my drawers to pull out a pair of scissors. They are sharp enough to slice through anything. I usually use them to cut fabric.

  I throw them on the ground and stomp on them. The two blades come apart, and I take the sharper blade in my hand. The blade grazes my wrist, and it feels good; it’s cool against my skin. I begin to slice at my wrist. I know I can’t actually commit suicide, but I want to feel something, anything!

  As soon as I make that first slice, it heals as quickly as I made it. I am so desperate to leave a lasting mark that I continue to slice at the wrist vigorously, again, again, again.

  It goes on for a good fifteen minutes through my sobs, but I can’t make a scratch that remains. I toss the blade on the ground; there is barely even any blood on it.

  I dig into my shirt and pull out my lucky locket. I hold it in my hands and rub it like it’s a magic lamp. I just wish I can be normal again.

  ***

  A few hours later, dinner is ready and I have to pretend that I love everything I eat. All foods taste the same now, sort of like ashes and dirt, not very appetizing. But people? They smell like turkey dinner, and they taste like candy. Sweet, sugary, addictive candy. My mouth waters at the thought.

  I mostly stare at my plate and take a few bites here and there. I can see my mother’s disappointment as she glances at my plate. She loves when I eat; it means that I enjoy the food. She is most likely wondering if it is any good, which I’m sure it is; she is a fantastic cook.

  “Mom, this is so good. The chicken is the juiciest I’ve ever had! I’m trying to savour every bite.”

  That makes her feel a little better, and we start up some dinner conversation.

  “So, honey, how’s school treating you?”

  I look at my mom and try to give the best impression of a happy version of myself. “It’s going really well. I love all my classes.”

  “Great to hear it. And how about the swim team?”

  Shit. I hoped she wouldn’t ask about that, but how could she not? I am captain of the team, aren’t I?

  “It’s going really well, too.” She knows I am lying as soon as I say it. She always knows.

  My dad chimes in at this point. “How come you haven’t invited us to any swim competitions yet? You usually do. I enjoy that. It’s like being at the Olympics.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” He looks confused and shrugs. “What?”

  I figure I should tell them the truth; they are on to me anyway.

  “Okay, listen. I’m not the captain of the swim team anymore.”

  My mom looks a bit upset. “Why wouldn’t they make you captain again? You are an amazing swimmer!”

  I shake my head. “No, no, they wanted me to be captain. It’s just…this year is really busy. I decided to step back from the swim team this year.”

  My mom and dad stop eating to look at me, absolutely shocked.

  “Eve, you love swimming, and in a year, you will be really out of practice. It will take you forever to get back to where you are now. Are you still training at least?”

  Cue my dad with the guilt trip. He means well but can be harsh sometimes.

  “No, Dad, I’m not training. I’m taking a year off swimming.”

  He drops his fork and sits back in his chair in disbelief. “But what about your dream of going to the Olympics someday? That won’t happen if you don’t show them what you’ve got. How could you just drop swimming altogether? That’s not like you, Eve.”

  I know that; he doesn’t have to remind me. Nothing is like me lately, absolutely nothing!

  I wish I can tell them the whole truth. That I can’t swim unless the team feels like swimming in shark-infested waters. That I am too busy eating people. That I am too busy trying to stay under the radar.

  My rising anger starts to make me hungry. I don’t like thinking of my family as a meal, so I excuse myself immediately. I don’t mean to leave them hanging, but I’m sure if the conversation continues I will only get angrier and can’t be responsible for my actions. It is safer just going to my room and locking the door.

  Almost as soon as I enter my room, my cell phone rings. Thank God, a distraction. The caller ID says it is Alex. “Hey, Al, what’s the news?” I answer.

  “Well, Cam met with the Coroner, and he said the autopsy is finished. The cause of death was deemed an accident. There have been a lot of bears spotted in the area, so they believe that is what happened. The marks on his body are very similar to a bear’s attack style.”

  I am relieved to hear there won’t be any further investigation into the matter.

  “Did Cam see the body? Was it there?”

  Alex hesitates for a moment. “Well, that was the hardest part. Cam had to go see for himself. He just had to know if his dad was dead, actually dead. Cam said the body was so mangled he couldn’t really imagine him ever healing and coming back to infect others. Eve, his dad was in pieces.”

  I feel so disgusted with myself. Did I really do that? I have no memory of it, but I was so mad about what Henry did to Cam that I wouldn’t put it past me. My anger seems to trigger my hunger.

  Since I don’t say anything more, Alex continues. “Eve, the funeral is going to be tomorrow. Let your family know. Cam wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. They are burying Henry at the local cemetery next to his wife.”

  “Okay, see you tomorrow.” I hang up feeling miserable. I want to hug Cam. What he saw must have been awful.

  ***

  The next is rainy as well. Perfect funeral weather.

  My mother and father are waiting for me in the living room, all dressed in black.

  “I’m ready. Let’s go,” I say, and we silently head towards the front door.

  Winston is blocking our way. He sits, staring at us with concern. When he catches sight of me, he growls and runs upstairs.

  “Winston has been so strange the past few days. It must be this weather. It’s making him crazy that he can’t go outside and play,” says my mother.

  “Maybe he knows about the funeral?” says my father. “Dogs are pretty intuitive.”

  I really just want to speak my mind an
d say, “No, it’s just your zombie daughter scaring the shit out of him.”

  It only takes us ten minutes to arrive at the cemetery. As we park, I can see Cam standing by the burial site with the priest. It tears me up inside that Cam is all alone; he has no other family standing beside him in support. His parents are gone, and he really isn’t close with his other family members. He has some distant cousins that he’s never spoken to, but that is it.

  I get out of the car and head towards Cam. I hope he will embrace me; I need to feel the warmth in his hug. Instead, he hugs me with as little force as possible, just enough of a hug that my parents won’t ask any questions. He then turns to my parents and thanks them for coming and for all their help. I can see the gratitude in his eyes.

  We take our places around the grave.

  Shortly after, Alex arrives with her parents and her younger sister Janna. I watch as Cam hugs Alex with the hug I hoped for. Their embrace makes me very envious. It almost looks as though they never want to let go of each other. I instantly feel ashamed of my envy. I deserve to be shunned, to be forgotten. We are all here today because of me; I won’t forget that. I should just be thankful that Cam hasn’t handed me over to CSIS. He has every right to do it.

  The priest begins the burial ceremony. I can’t listen; I just look at Cam’s face. He has the kindest face I’ve ever seen, but today it is stained with exhaustion and sorrow. It is at that moment that I realize just how much I love him and that he will never love me again.

  The priest asks Cam to say a few words. Cam takes a crinkled piece of paper out of his pocket and smoothes it out. He doesn’t look at anyone as he begins to read it.

  “Today, I say goodbye to my father. He was never the same after my mother died, so I hope he can be with her now. My father was a very flawed man, but he was still my father. My mother would always say give him a break, he had a hard life. I thought today would be a good day to do just that. I won’t mention his vices. Those will be left to God’s judgment today. I want to reflect on a few fond memories with my father.

  “I remember when my father surprised my mother and me with tickets to Disneyland. I was eight years old, and it was a dream come true. All my friends had been and I just kept begging and begging. I really didn’t think I’d ever go. That trip was one that I would treasure forever. It was the happiest my family had been together. It was perfect. I remember riding on my father’s shoulders so I could see Mickey Mouse in the parade. He was a different man on that trip. He was the father I wished he could have been my whole life.

  “When my mother died, he hugged me so tight. It was very comforting to know that we both loved something so much. It hurt us both equally and affected us forever after. I hope that he never feels that kind of pain or sorrow again. I wish my father peace. May his soul finally rest.”

  There is not a single dry eye to be found after Cam’s brief speech. He did very well considering there wasn’t much of anything positive to say about Henry Jackson.

  The cemetery staff begins lowering Henry’s casket into the ground. My mother’s sobs are the loudest. I know she considers Cam family; she always treats him like he is her own son. Her heart broke when she first found out about my friend Cam, whose mother died when he was young. She invited him over as much as possible, especially after learning that his dad was such a heavy drinker. She wanted Cam out of that negative environment as much as possible. I know deep down she hopes Cam and I will get married some day, but any possibility of that is long gone.

  Cam is offered a shovel. It is a tradition for a family member to deposit the first heap of dirt upon the coffin. A twisted tradition, if you ask me. But Cam accepts and then thanks, everyone again for attending.

  Everyone begins to head back to their cars; they want to give Cam some time to say goodbye to his parents. However, I can’t go; I can’t leave the day this way.

  “Mom, Dad, I’m going to go talk to Cam for a second. I will meet you guys in the car.”

  They nod and keep walking towards their vehicle.

  Cam is sitting on the grass watching each shovel throw dirt in the hole. I walk up to him slowly. I’m so nervous my hands are sweaty. Without any words, I sit beside him for a minute. It’s nice just to be in his presence.

  I take his arm and place it around me like a scarf on a chilly winter day. He doesn’t reject this. “Cam, I know you may never truly forgive me, and I accept that as a possibility. That doesn’t mean I won’t try to win you back, and you can’t blame me for that. You are so wonderful, and I’m so sorry for everything. I would take it all back in a second. I miss you.”

  I don’t wait for a response; I kiss him on the cheek, which is slightly moist. It takes everything I have to leave him, but I manage to get to my feet and walk away. I can feel his eyes following me as I leave. I hope that this is the start to fixing what I broke.

  ***

  When we get home, I feel emotionally and physically exhausted.

  “Mom, Dad, I’m just going to head to bed. I’m not really hungry for dinner right now.”

  They look at me understandingly, and they each give me a hug before I head upstairs.

  Once in my room, I change into my jammies. The soft fabric on my skin makes me instantly sleepy. I crawl under the sheets and soon afterward fall into a deep sleep.

  ***

  I am running so fast, through trees, through backyards. I’m not sure why I am in such a hurry, but something is driving me. I have a mission, a destination, a purpose tonight.

  I travel in the darkness, snarling like a wolf. I can feel my anger mounting. When I reach my destination, I am almost excited. Something is about to happen, but I’m not sure what. I just know it feels exhilarating.

  I glance through the bushes. There is a man standing outside of his house.

  Oh, my, God, it’s Henry Jackson.

  He is pacing in front of his house. Waiting for someone? My question is answered when a vehicle pulls up. There are two men. One is the driver; the other is a very big man. The big man is the only one to exit the vehicle. He heads towards Henry.

  Henry asks, “Do you have it?”

  The big man nods. “Where’s my money?”

  Henry’s hands shake as he digs through his pockets for cash. He pulls out many crumpled bills and places them into the big man’s hands. The man then counts the money and nods. “Okay, man here is your stuff. I would say you order from me too much, but that would be bad for business.”

  The big man passes him a little bag and winks at Henry before getting back in the car and driving away. Henry watches as the car drives off. He waits until the car is out of sight and then empties the pouch into his hand. He is now holding pills. I can’t be sure what kind they are, but I can’t help thinking what a selfish man he is.

  He drinks heavily, and now he does drugs? Maybe he should clean himself up so his son can have a father.

  My anger is reaching uncontrollable levels, and I’m shaking. I rustle the bushes in my rage. Henry Jackson looks my way. He can’t see me, but he knows something is there.

  He slurs his words when he speaks. “Get out of here, ya dumb dog. I swear I’d shoot you if I had a gun. Stupid neighbours letting you shit all over my lawn. Get out of here before I kick you dead!”

  He kicks up some dirt to show he’s serious. I am no dog, as he’ll soon find out. I watch a little longer, trying to control my rage. Henry downs the pills all at once. His eyes roll back into his head with pleasure.

  Good, I think. Then he won’t feel so terrible when I rip out his throat.

  I watch as his happy pills kick in. He’s laughing to himself. The laughter triggers something dark within me.

  I walk out of the bushes towards Henry. I want him to see me; I want him to suffer as he made his son suffer. I walk up to Henry as he opens his eyes.

  “Oh, hello you. What are you doing here?”


  I don’t respond. I just continue getting closer. He looks at me a little more closely and starts to become afraid. “What happened to your eyes?”

  He starts moving backward, but it’s no use. I can attack him in seconds, and he will have no time to escape. He knows this; he knows that I’m here to hurt him. He can feel it.

  He crumbles to the ground and pleads for his life. I can barely make out a word. I’m so hungry, and it’s all I can focus on. The sweat on his brow looks just as appetizing as the rest of him. The look on his face is pathetic.

  The last words I hear him utter before I tear into his flesh are, “Tell Cameron I love him, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

  ***

  I wake up in a pool of my own sweat. I want to scream, punch a hole in a wall, and cry all at the same time. I remember. I did it. I remember everything. Every detail floods back; even the taste lingers in my mouth. What is worse is I can remember how much I enjoyed it, how good it felt to rip him to shreds. I was fast, strong, and vicious. Whatever part of me is still human feels terrible after hearing Henry’s last words.

  I have to tell Cam the truth. He needs to hear that his father loved him, even if it is too little too late. Cam deserves that much and I deserve to lose him. I will never let Cam forgive me. I will never forgive myself.

  I cry into my pillow as Henry’s words play over and over again in my mind.

  “Tell Cameron I love him, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CAM

  I feel like I haven’t slept in months. I would say I feel like a zombie, but the word leaves a foul taste in my mouth, and I decide to banish it from my vocabulary.

  I sit in Alex’s guest room staring out the window. I didn’t leave this chair last night. I may have dozed off in it a few times, but there was definitely no solid sleep. My body throbs with exhaustion, but I don’t care about the ache. I feel little numb inside; something in me has changed.

  I long to be the old Cameron again, to be happy. I want to forgive Eve and just move forward already. I guess I’m just not ready yet. I have to respect the time it might take me to mourn this loss. My mother is long dead, and I never fully got over that. My father is dead; he was an abuser and an alcoholic, and I should hate him, but I don’t. I am just sad that I am alone. The last of my family. How has this whole family gone to shit?