A Time to Kill Zombies

by Jill James

  They grabbed the rifles and walked up the road to the deserted building. Jack taught as they moved to the doorway. “Stay away from windows, just in case. We have two ways to enter a building; stealth mode or hot and fast. Pick one and commit. No half-measures. That gets you killed. By zombies or the living.”

  “But, it’s deserted,” she complained.

  “Is it?” he asked with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Can you know one-hundred percent?”

  Swallowing any further words, she followed Jack as he turned the doorknob slowly and pulled the door open. He stuck his head inside and looked right and left. He pulled the door wider and she caught hold as he moved inside.

  The door gave a little squeak as she let it shut slowly behind her. Her feet shuffled over the grime-covered floor. A broken window to her left had let dust and debris pile up on the floor in wind-driven drifts.

  Jack moved down the hallway, beckoning with his finger for her to follow. She pointed the rifle to the ceiling and kept an eye on his back. Every few seconds she turned to make sure nothing snuck up behind them.

  An eerie silence filled the cavernous building. The silence of nothingness. No footsteps. No moans. No life; dead or otherwise. Jack silently opened doors and shone a flashlight beam inside before moving on.

  A door at the end of the hall led to an enormous open space. Marks on the ground and the greasy outlines of circles and squares showed where large equipment had been bolted to the floor. A flutter of wings drew her gaze upward as birds flew from the catwalks to the rusty beams in the ceiling. Large skylights showed wispy white clouds traveling across the sky.

  “No supplies here, but easily defensible and large enough for a group bigger than we are now,” Jack said, his gaze traveling the room.

  “You could even build sleeping quarters on the catwalks for somewhere to retreat if needed,” she added.

  He reached over and put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. His body’s warmth surrounded her. “That’s my girl. Thinking ahead.”

  Her face warmed at his unexpected praise. All day it had seemed as if he only told her what she was doing wrong and how inept she was at survival.

  “I wonder what Selena would have been like with you as her dad?” she mused. And just like that, his arm dropped away, he moved from her side, and his stoic soldier face returned. The one she’d seen at their rescue when he realized she was with her husband and child. The one she’d seen the whole time they’d been at the RV yard. The one shutting everyone out and making him a leader of people.

  “Selena is tougher than you think,” he muttered, moving away.

  I pray that you are right. Lila kept the wish in her head, holding it like a talisman.

  Chapter Seven

  Selena

  Selena’s Diary

  Apartment Complex

  Walnut Creek, California

  Spring, 1 AZ

  The old man said it would be a few days, but when I woke up there was a loud noise outside. Not the moaning of the skinbags, but man voices. Loud man voices. And hammering. I want my mommy.

  She found a crack in one of the boards on the window and pressed her face to the wood. Bright colors filled the parking lot of the apartments. Men moved all around. Some were talking in groups and some were laughing. A few women and girls stood with some of the men, but their hands were tied with rope. The same rope was around their necks and held by the men like dogs on a leash. A chill went up her spine.

  Spotting Juan and the old man, she watched as they hammered on a platform like the ones for her dance recitals. She racked her brain. She’d seen a scene like this before. On television. A movie she wasn’t supposed to watch. For adult audiences it had said.

  A slave auction.

  Selling men, women, and children.

  Her teeth started chattering. She was old enough and had seen enough since the Z virus started to know things weren’t the same as they used to be. No more playing outside. No more going to visit friends’ houses. No more junk food. No more lots of things.

  Mommy told her the rules had changed. She hadn’t understood then when her mother told her men were in charge now. It hadn’t been that way at the RV yard. The women there helped with all the chores, even zombie patrol. She glared at the platform.

  She understood now. Those with power ruled. Like the bullies at the playground.

  Auntie came up behind her and put her shaking hands on Selena’s shoulders. “They want you cleaned up and outside now.”

  “I could run away,” she spat. “Run far away.”

  Auntie hugged her. “You are old enough to know that is not true. The undead are out there past the barriers. A little girl would never survive. Your time will come, my strong one. But not today.”

  Her shoulders slumped. She had no way out except to be sold like a car or a horse or a basket of fruit. She tried to imagine she would be bought by someone nicer than Juan had been, but she shuddered as she remembered the looks the men in the apartment had been giving her.

  At the bathroom, Auntie gave her clothes and a washcloth. “There is a bucket of water inside. Wash all over and get dressed. Please, Niña. Don’t make them wait.”

  She nodded her head, at a loss for any words that mattered. Shutting the door, she put the clothes on the toilet seat lid and started pulling off her T-shirt and shorts. The water was ice-cold and set her teeth to chattering again. She washed quickly and put the washcloth in the sink.

  Picking up the shirt, she stared at the shape of her hand through the material. The shirt would be see-thru when she put it on. Her teeth ground as she clenched her jaw.

  “Hurry up, girl. Juan is coming.”

  She blanked her mind and pulled on the flimsy top and short skirt. Clean underwear was missing. She started to grab her old pair, but she realized they were left out on purpose. She was meant to only wear the shirt and skirt. She cried. Glad her mom was dead and not able to see her now. She took the washcloth and ran it over her tear-stained cheeks.

  Picking up her old clothes, she bundled them into a pile and clasped them to her chest and opened the door. Auntie handed her the knapsack and she tucked the clothes inside as Juan strode up with his smile that wasn’t a nice smile.

  “Stand up, turn around,” he ordered. “Excellent. Let’s go.”

  He grabbed her arm and yanked her down the hallway and out the door. She blinked at the sudden light after the time in the dim rooms. The noise of the crowd was deafening. A couple of girls already stood on the platform with their clothes in a pile at their feet. The men hollered and whistled as the sun shone down on the women’s pale skin and bowed heads.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and the blood left her brain. She tried to pray but no words came to mind other than no. She looked up at Juan.

  Don’t you remember being my daddy? Going to my dance recitals. Calling me your sweetie. Teaching me to ride my big girl bike. Why can’t you remember all those times?

  When they reached the platform, he put a hand on the back of her neck and held her there as the two girls above cried, led away with a rope on the neck and a man yanking them down the stairs.

  “Go,” he ordered, shoving her to the steps.

  Selena stared at the splintered wood, taking the steps one at a time. A big hand grabbed her arm as she reached the top. He placed her in the middle of the platform and moved to the front, directly above the crowd.

  “This is Selena,” he yelled. “The girl is nine years old and a virgin. Her father will guarantee that in writing. She isn’t a woman quite yet, if you know what I mean. So no babies for a while.”

  Several men laughed in the audience and she cringed. Her hands shook as she rubbed them up and down her arms. A breeze wafted over her and goose bumps broke out on her exposed skin.

  “I’ll give you a cow for her. A milk cow,” a voice rang out.

  Selena looked up and spotted the old man in the crowd with his hand raised. He smiled at her and his dark eyes lit up with his smile. A woma
n stood beside him with a hand on his arm and no ropes or ties she could see.

  “I’ll give you three hens and a rooster,” another voice called.

  Her gaze traveled until she spotted the man with the mean voice. His looks matched his voice. A scar traveled down his face, a bright white in his dark skin.

  Don’t let him get me. She prayed with all her heart, although God didn’t seem to be listening lately to any of her prayers. Or else, why was she here?

  Several other voices yelled out with calls of goods to offer for her. She stared straight ahead and let her mind wander. No one touched her. No one demanded her clothes be taken off. Maybe there was a God after all.

  Soon, the voices dwindled down to the old man and the mean man. Her head shot up as the mean man bid a car and twenty gallons of gasoline. The old man stood silence and dropped his head to stare at the ground. His woman grasped his arm and pleaded, but the man shook his head.

  Through a haze of tears, Selena watched as the mean man and Juan shook hands. The other man slapped Juan on the back and almost knocked him over. Her legs shook and her breath caught. He would kill her. She was going to die. Every lesson she’d been told about going with strangers flooded her brain.

  Juan signed the two papers and handed one to the man. The man’s head came up and his dark eyes glared at her. His smile revealed missing teeth and the ones remaining were yellow and disgusting. She stood still as the man she’d thought her father ran up the stairs and grabbed a handful of hair to yank her off the platform.

  “I hope your mother does show up. I can tell her all about Toby Hill who now owns you,” he hissed at her.

  “Daddy, please. Don’t do this. I’ll be good. I promise,” she cried as she stumbled in her bare feet.

  “I’m not your daddy,” Juan whispered in her ear. “I never was.”

  He shoved her into the man she now belonged to. What had Juan said his name was? Her brain was scattered. No thoughts stayed in the forefront for long enough to catch and hold.

  His large hands settled on her shoulders and squeezed painfully. “You can call me Mister Toby. Do you understand?”

  She nodded.

  He squeezed tighter. “Say it.”

  “Mister Toby,” she squeaked out.

  “You got shoes, girl?”

  “Yes, Mister Toby. In my backpack.”

  He smiled that evil smile again. “You’re a fast learner. That should make it easier for you. Get ‘em and put ‘em on. We got some traveling to do to get back to my camp.”

  Selena sat on the ground and dug through the knapsack, finding her shoes and putting them on as quickly as possible. Toby hadn’t hit her yet and she was not going to give him a reason to do it now, in front of Juan.

  As soon as she slipped on her shoes, he yanked her to her feet. “Get your pack. We are outta here. You try to run and the undead will get you. Follow along and you’ll be fine. Understand?”

  “Yes, Mister Toby.”

  She left Juan behind without a backward glance. The man had sold her as a slave. She would wipe all her happy childhood memories away. Standing tall, her spine straight, she wiped her childhood away, as well as her tears.

  Toby grabbed her arm and dragged her along toward a monster truck sitting on the road outside the apartment complex. The moans of the undead echoed in the woods to her left. She shook as they stood in the open with nowhere to run.

  The man grasped her around the waist and tossed her into the bed of a truck. He pointed to a box full of weapons.

  “Hand me a gun.”

  She grabbed a big one that looked like the ones soldiers used in the movies. Toby took it and started firing at a few skinbags headed their way. The moans grew in volume as more and more undead shambled out of the trees, some headed toward the truck, but the majority headed to the complex where the loud voices turned to screams and gunfire.

  “Sit down, girl,” he ordered as he jumped into the truck’s driver seat. “We are outta here.”

  Selena sat on a mattress in the truck bed. Over the side she watched as a horde of skinbags shambled, stumbled, and jogged into the apartment complex they’d just left. Sporadic gunfire still filled the air and smoke rose from several fires. An explosion rang out as they turned the corner and the buildings disappeared from sight.

  Chapter Eight

  Jack and Lila

  Lila stood with her back to Jack as he spray painted a large R-1 on the chemical plant’s front gate. The padlock and chain rattled as a breeze set it to swinging and hitting the metallic post. A large crow sat on the front and called to them in a rusty caw. She shuddered. The large birds had always seemed like harbingers of doom, like a scene from a horror movie. Sitting on fences. Their beady black eyes following you as you drove by.

  She thought back to Jack’s words inside the plant. Selena is tougher than you think. Prayers flooded her mind. Prayers to a silent God she’d given up on believing in. But old habits die hard as she whispered and crossed herself with a silent ‘amen.’

  The hiss of the paint can stopped and Jack walked up beside her. “Ready to move on?”

  “More than ready,” she replied back in a low tone.

  His hand settled on her shoulder and squeezed before falling away. “We’ll find her.”

  Her body warmed at his confident voice and the reassurance in his eyes. His eyes that had twinkled in the old way for just a second and passed. Almost too fast for her to notice, but she did. She also noticed the flush to his face and the look of forbidden thoughts.

  She shook her head at her random romantic thoughts in the middle of survival. Jack was her past. She’d blown it and married Juan. No matter what the man had done, he was her lawfully married husband. That she’d be a widow as soon as she got Selena back didn’t make a difference. Even if she were willing to forget her wedding vows, Jack wasn’t ever going to let her forget what she had done. He wasn’t the kind of man to come between a man and his wife, even if it was the apocalypse and vows of any kind didn’t matter anymore. They’d always matter to Jack Canida. He hadn’t needed military service to drill it into him. His values ran core deep.

  After a few hours of stopping to investigate a wasteland of deserted encampments looking for news, Lila was ready to believe there were no live people left in the world except for her and Jack. A woman’s shrill scream broke the unnatural silence, heard over the rumble of the car’s motor. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end at the desperation in the cries.

  They pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out, weapons ready. Jack held up a hand and stopped them beside a tree. The bark rubbed her arm as she pressed against it, wanting to be one with the tree and invisible. The sobs rose and fell along with the harsh laughter of men. Underlying it all was the growl of an undead.

  “Hold on to my belt and don’t let go until I tell you to,” he whispered in her ear.

  Her fingers wrapped around the webbed fabric as Jack moved forward in a hunched squat. The mean laughter grew louder as they reached a scrub bush in front of a clearing. Two men shoved an undead child between them while an older woman grabbed their arms, begging them to stop. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as they flung the young girl between them and cut her with their knives whenever she stumbled nearby.

  Lila gagged and swallowed the bile down. Hot acid burned her throat. She recognized the two men from her time at the Fruitful Harvest Church. Zeke and Grant had been among the worse of the men, raping young girls and tormenting the skinbags for their enjoyment.

  Tension swarmed up Jack’s back where her fingers grazed above his belt. He turned to her.

  “On three, grab the old woman. I’ll take care of the men,” he hissed.

  “What about the girl?” She looked into eyes of the darkest, coldest brown.

  “We’ll put her down once the woman is safe.”

  She nodded and loosened her hold on his belt. At the count of three she was off like a frightened deer, bounding around the bush and at the woman’
s side in seconds. She ignored the sounds of the scuffle, pulling the woman to her feet and dragging her away from the clearing.

  “Please. Kelly.” The woman stretched out an arm toward the undead child.

  Lila rubbed the woman’s hand. “We’ll take care of her.”

  The woman sagged in relief or exhaustion, she wasn’t sure of which, and crumpled to the ground at her feet.

  The silence from the clearing had her on her tiptoes to glance over the bush. Jack stood alone, wiping his knife and slamming it back into the sheath on his belt. The bright pink of the girl’s shirt glared from the ground a few feet away.

  She squatted beside the woman. “It’s over. The child is at peace.”

  “Thank you,” the woman whispered. “Now she is in Heaven with her mother.”

  “You’re the grandmother?”

  The woman smiled and looked even younger than Lila had thought at first.

  “Kelly is my only grandchild.” Her smile fell. “Was my only grandchild.”

  “I’m sorry for what Zeke and Grant did,” Lila started to speak.

  The woman scuttled back until she was up against a tree. Her body shook and her eyes darted as if looking for an escape route. “You’re with those monsters?”

  Lila shook her head. “No. I just knew them when I was trapped with them and a bunch of men just like them.”

  Even without looking, she felt Jack’s presence at her back. He strode around her and squatted by the woman. By degrees, the woman relaxed and took his hand. He stood and pulled her to her feet.

  “You’re safe now,” Jack said. He squeezed her shoulder and his hand fell away.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I’m Jack and this is Lila,” he said, pointing to her over his shoulder. “We are looking for a young girl. Blonde hair. Green eyes. Nine years old and traveling with a shorter Hispanic man.”

  “I’m Mary,” she said, looking up at Jack and shaking her head. “Kelly and I haven’t seen anyone in a week except for those two. We heard some cars on the freeway, but they were too far away to see the people inside.”