She’d heard a victim: not a monster. Had the zombies heard the sound, too? Was that where they’d gone? Velvet felt sick as she realized that whoever was out there had drawn the attention of the zombies. While the infected people had been hanging out around this building looking for Velvet, they’d done what zombies always did: they’d gotten distracted.
Zombies could stay focused for hours if nothing else demanded their attention, but if another person seemed easier to eat, they’d leave.
They had no loyalty when it came to what they were going to eat.
The sound came again, and this time, she was certain. It was a scream, but not one of the hungry, wild screams that the infected liked to make. No, this scream was something else. This was the scream of a person in trouble – no, it was the scream of a child.
How could there be a child?
Velvet couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a child. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done a lot of things. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone on a date or even had sex, but that was how most people felt. It was the end of the world, so it wasn’t like you could fall in love or find someone to share your future with because no one really had a future.
Instead, sexual experiences were perfunctory and often necessary to stave off boredom. They were something to do to pass the time and they were a way you could actually feel something.
Getting pregnant though...
That wasn’t a risk Velvet was willing to take. It wasn’t a risk most people in the apocalypse were willing to take. Luckily, there were ways to avoid getting pregnant.
So, who had delivered a child?
Had someone just had a baby during the apocalypse?
Or was this a child who had been alive before the zombies?
Before the infection?
Now they were in trouble. Whoever the kid was, Velvet knew that time was of the essence. This kid was in serious danger.
Why else would they have risked screaming?
Velvet climbed out on the fire escape and looked down, trying to get a clearer look. Even from outside of the apartment building, she couldn’t see very much. There was enough light from the moon and stars for her to see the shamblers still wandering around, but nothing else.
So, where had the scream come from?
“Oy! You good?”
Velvet looked up sharply. Across the road, on top of the opposite building, was a person. No: three people. Three people who were alive, and three people who were looking at her.
Had one of them screamed?
“I’m good,” she said, trying to remember how to speak to other humans. When was the last time she’d seen another person? When was the last time she’d actually encountered a human to talk with?
It had been a long time. Lately, Velvet had just been talking to Dennis. She’d tried to speak out loud every day, so she didn’t go crazy. She’d come across survivors who didn’t. She knew what happened when people didn’t make it a habit to practice their speaking. She knew that if someone didn’t speak, they’d soon forget what it meant to be human.
Not talking was the first step.
After that, it was only a matter of time before you completely lost your ability to do anything that didn’t involve chasing food.
The three survivors stared at her. Even though it was dark, she could see enough of their faces to know that they were confused by her presence. She felt uncomfortable. The stars were bright enough that Velvet could make out their features.
It was a woman standing there. One woman who was all on her own, like Velvet was. The other two people stood close enough to one another that it was obvious to Velvet they were a couple. You didn’t stand that close to someone you didn’t love.
You didn’t lean into them for protection unless you really cared about them.
A strange feeling settled in her stomach: something she hadn’t felt since the before days. She felt this uncomfortable, twisting sensation deep in her gut. It was the same feeling she’d experienced when she’d had to give a speech in front of her class in the third grade; the same feeling she’d had the first time she’d kissed a girl.
Awkwardness mixed with fear.
What if they told her to get lost?
Velvet didn’t usually carry much of a weapon. She definitely didn’t carry anything she could use at a distance. When she had to fight, she liked to be up close and personal with whatever it was that she was going to kill.
She’d known, ever since she was a kid, that killing wasn’t something she wanted to be a part of. Now that she had no choice, now that the world was kill or be killed, she still liked to kill the zombies face-to-face. She didn’t like the idea of people dropping bombs or just firing with bullets.
That was easy.
That made it simple to pretend none of this was real.
It was real, Velvet knew, and she never wanted to forget.
“Did you scream?” Velvet called out, swallowing. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry. If it had been them, they were idiots. If it hadn’t, there was going to be trouble.
It wasn’t them.
Even as she asked the question, she knew it couldn’t be this group of survivors. Mainly, that was because there weren’t any zombies hanging out around the street between the two buildings. If they’d been the ones yelling, wouldn’t they have attracted the zombies?
“We thought it was you,” a woman yelled back. Even in the darkness, Velvet could tell that this woman was the leader of the little group. She had that sort of energy about her. She seemed strong, determined. She seemed comfortable.
Velvet wished she felt that way.
Even though the group of survivors was staring at her, trying to figure out who she was and what she was good for, Velvet didn’t think they were going to hurt her. She thought that this group seemed like they were protectors: not predators.
She couldn’t really pinpoint why she felt that way aside from the fact that none of them were holding guns. Anytime someone had a gun, it was obvious that something bad was going to happen, but these people weren’t holding weapons to fight humans. Their weapons were obviously meant for the dead.
“It wasn’t,” she told them.
The scream came again, and they all turned toward the sound. It was coming from down the road: from near the university. Velvet remembered the campus well, but she knew that things now were different.
Changed.
Things now were messier and wilder, and even the layout of the campus would be different from how she remembered. The buildings would be rundown. Ceilings would be falling in. Roofs would be collapsed in places. They wouldn’t have to actually go onto the campus, she suspected. There were enough apartment buildings between them and the college that they wouldn’t have to wander through the abandoned library or any dilapidated classrooms.
But even if they did, someone was in trouble.
And Velvet didn’t need anyone to tell her not to go.
She was going to go.
She grabbed her backpack from beside the couch and called for Dennis. So much for relaxing overnight at the apartment complex.
At the same time, Velvet and the other survivors started climbing down the fire escapes. She knew without needing to arrange things with them that together, they were going to go find out what the scream was all about.
They were going to go find out who needed to be saved.
And then they were going to do it.
Chapter Seven
The scream sounded again.
It was close.
Too close.
The chances of a human wandering this close to their place was low. Yes, they were located near a park and their apartment building was close to the college campus, but neither one of those things really held any sort of special significance to people anymore. Even if someone entered the city, they’d come in to look for food: not shelter. Humans wanted to be out of the cities, which was why Eshe and her crew liked staying directly in one.
“Where’s it coming from?” Ambrose asked. She kept looking around, trying to locate the exact source of the sound. It was going to be difficult to do that in the dark.
“I don’t know,” Ryan said. He sounded nervous, though. Maybe he was just excited. They didn’t often go off in search of little kids who were trapped or in trouble.
Correction: they never went off in search of little kids who were trapped or in trouble.
Eshe was silent as the three of them climbed down the fire escape. They probably should have gone through the interior of the apartment building first, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to hurry and get to whatever or whoever was in danger.
It was a kid, she thought.
It had to have been a kid.
Only, it didn’t make a lot of sense. There weren’t exactly a lot of other survivors in this city. Eshe knew there were a few scattered around, but they all kept to themselves. They weren’t exactly the type of people who met up for high tea. They didn’t live in that sort of world.
“And who was that across the road?” Ambrose asked, still somehow having time to talk despite the fact that they were trying to actually hurry down the exterior escape. That was a question that Eshe had, too, but she wasn’t going to ask it out loud.
Who was the mysterious stranger across the road?
Why was she in the apartment building?
As far as Eshe and her friends knew, that building had been empty for months, so the newcomer must have just arrived. Eshe felt a bit bad and slightly pathetic for not noticing the person sooner. Usually, she prided herself on keeping their little community safe, but she’d failed.
She’d let everyone down and she hadn’t meant to.
It was her job to protect them all. It was her job to make sure that nobody got hurt: that nobody felt like they were in danger. What if the girl across the road had been dangerous? She wasn’t, obviously, but what if she had been?
Eshe should have noticed that she was there, but she’d let herself become distracted. She’d had other things on her mind, which meant she hadn’t been as vigilant as she should have been.
“I don’t know,” Eshe finally said out loud. She glanced over at the other building. Their new friend was climbing down her own fire escape. She could probably hear what they were saying, so Eshe didn’t want to be completely rude and keep talking about her as though she weren’t there.
Once more, the scream sounded, and Eshe kept moving, scurrying across the rusty metal platforms of the fire escape. Once upon a time, this place had been state of the art. People had fought to get an apartment in this building, and now it was just...
Well, now it was the same as every other place.
Where the hell had a kid come from? She was certain – certain – that this was a child. There wasn’t another explanation. A kid was the only kind of creature who could make a noise that high-pitched, and that was part of the reason Eshe didn’t mind going after the little thing.
Usually, she’d leave survivors to fend on their own. Eshe was a leader, but she didn’t consider herself to be much of a do-gooder. The type of person who was obsessed with doing good and helping others was the kind of person who could get hurt when everything went to hell.
That wasn’t her.
She was far too cautious, but it was a good thing. Being careful was how she’d managed to survive for this long.
Finally, the three of them reached the lowest part of the fire escape and dropped down onto the road. One by one, they hopped down. Their feet hit the pavement loudly, and Eshe cringed as she twisted her ankle slightly. Okay, so maybe she was more out of shape than she thought. Either that, or she was just getting older. Turning thirty had really sneaked up on her.
Fortunately, despite her age, she wasn’t a poor planner. There were several bats that had been decked out with nails and other assorted decorations resting carefully against the apartment building. Eshe liked to keep weapons nearby for when they needed them. There was a crowbar, too. Ryan grabbed that, while Eshe and Ambrose each grabbed a bat.
She knew that the other guys didn’t like them keeping weapons just out in the open, but people so rarely came to Fossilwood Grove – especially this area of town - that it didn’t matter. The last time someone came through this part of the city, they’d asked politely if they could take a bat, and Eshe had been more than happy to oblige.
It had been an easy way to show kindness, and she didn’t care.
“Three incoming,” Ambrose said, striding ahead of Eshe and Ryan. Sure enough, there were three zombies in the road between the two apartment buildings. Although Eshe thought this part of town looked like it probably should have alleys between the buildings, the reality was that there were roads on all sides of each apartment building.
This meant there were still a couple of parked cars between the buildings. Once, Eshe and Ryan had gone through and tried to move all of the cars, but they’d only managed to get two moved. Now the rest of the vehicles sat empty unless someone wanted to get some “alone time.”
“Coming,” Ryan said, and he hurried up to fight with Ambrose.
Eshe didn’t worry. She knew that the two of them had this completely under control. No matter what happened next, Ryan and Ambrose were both very experienced fighters, and they’d be able to handle the three infected that had wandered over here.
It was strange that they were here, though. There had been a disturbance a couple of hours earlier. Eshe had noticed several zombies moving toward one of the other buildings – the one where she now realized the stranger was in. At the time, Eshe had wrongfully assumed that there had been a squirrel or another small mammal wandering around.
Why else would zombies be loitering?
Now she wondered if it was the visitor, who was almost down the fire escape on her side of the road. Eshe walked over.
She looked up to see the newcomer. Cautious, stealthy, and wearing good gear: this was the type of woman who had been on her own for a little while, Eshe guessed. Why else would she be so particular? The woman climbed down easily and swiftly, but she also moved in a way that was very methodical.
“What’s your name?” Eshe called out.
“Velvet.”
“I’m Eshe.”
“Nice to meet you,” the woman dropped from the fire escape and looked over at Eshe as she started walking in the direction the scream had come from.
Eshe wasn’t sure what was happening at first. It was a strange sort of social interaction, but then again, it wasn’t exactly a good time to stop and chat. Was it?
Eshe started moving, trying to catch up with her new friend. Her scuffed black combat boots were loud against the concrete as she scurried to keep up with Velvet, who didn’t seem to have any sort of interest in hanging out and chatting before they ran off to save the child.
“Where are you from?”
“Around.”
“When did you arrive?”
“Earlier today.”
“Is it just you?”
Velvet stopped walking and turned to look at Eshe. She looked her up and down, and then she cocked her head. Eshe got the distinct impression that Velvet was like her: in charge. Unfortunately for Velvet, this was Eshe’s territory.
“No offense, but you’re asking a lot of questions. I’d like to go figure out who’s in trouble,” Velvet said.
Eshe bristled.
“No offense to you,” she said, “but this is my place. My world. You’re in our territory, so you need to tell us who you are.”
“I’m not a threat,” Velvet said, suddenly backing down. Why was she backing down so fast? “And I’m not staying long. I’m just passing through. I just need a place to stay for the night.”
“Fair,” Eshe said.
“I’ll help you find this kid, though,” Velvet turned and started walking again.
“We don’t know who it is,” Eshe offered.
“No?”
“No.”
“Is it just th
e three of you?”
“No,” Eshe said, but left it at that. There were five of them in total, actually, but she didn’t feel like telling Velvet everything about their little group. She didn’t need to reveal too much information, did she?
Velvet nodded.
“All right, then. What do we know?”
They reached Ambrose and Ryan, then, who had finished slaying the three shamblers. The zombies were dead on the ground. Ryan turned and looked at Velvet.
“Who are you?”
“Velvet.”
“I’m Ryan. This is Ambrose.”
Ambrose nodded curtly, and Velvet did the same.
“Nice killing,” Velvet nodded toward the zombies. “Do you burn them?”
“Not usually,” he said, “and not now.” Ryan looked over at Eshe for guidance. “You ready to go find this kid?”
“Yeah,” Eshe nodded. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Eight
Before the apocalypse happened, Velvet had big dreams for her life that included a lot of different things, but none of the potential paths she’d seen for herself included killing things.
At no point during her childhood or teen years had she imagined that one day, she’d know exactly how to use a bat to bash in a zombie’s head.
She hadn’t imagined that she’d learn how to create traps to catch the undead.
She’d never once dreamed that when she grew up, she’d know the best ways to break into buildings, how to move stealthily, and how to hurt the undead who lurked inside.
That was her, though.
That was what she could do.
That was who she was.
And now she was with other survivors. She was with other people who knew the same things that she did. They knew how to stay alive, how to move. They understood what it took to kill and how to avoid getting blood on themselves.
One thing that these particular survivors could do that Velvet couldn’t, though, was access the different parts of this particular city. They knew the ins and outs of this place because they lived here, and they probably had for a while.
They weren’t new the way Velvet was. They weren’t beginners in this survival world. Even if they didn’t know the kid they were going to look for, these people knew what the different buildings were, how they were laid out, and what the style was.
Beautifully Undead | Book 1 | The Chasing of Zombies Page 4