The Good, The Bad, And The Undead : A zombie Apocalypse (The Wild Wild Midwest Book 1)

by Gill, Bonnie

  "You did the right thing by turning him in," Dean says.

  "Did I? He probably would've forgotten I existed after a couple weeks. I know him, and when he gets out, he'll kill me. He's that vindictive."

  "I wish you would've told me about this sooner."

  "How could I? I stole a car. You would've kicked me out."

  "No. I would've done more to protect you. Does he know where you are?"

  "Who knows? He had a huge entourage of hoodlums. I have a friend who was going to let me know when he was let out, but she's probably dead, or a gabbie, now."

  "It's the zombie apocalypse. I think Seth will have other things on his mind, like trying to survive." Dean squeezes my hand.

  "Thanks, Dean. Thank you for everything." I do feel a little better getting that off my chest.

  Sheriff Brophy sits up on the sofa. "Raven, You're a car thief?"

  11

  My stomach is knotting up inside itself. I just confessed to a crime in front of the sheriff. I try to swallow the wad of guilt stuck inside my throat, but it won't dislodge. He can’t arrest me. My biggest fear is being locked in a cage.

  The sheriff gives me an easy smile. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to haul you in. I really don't think we're going to go back to the way things were. I have a feeling law, and law-abiding citizens, are a thing of the past. You have the ability to steal vehicles. A skill which could end up saving not only your life, but the lives of others as well. What if those monsters are chasing you, and your truck breaks down? You can hotwire a car and escape. You already saved my life with your quick thinking and selflessness. You could've left me there for the gabbies. For that, I want to thank you." He's trying to placate me and ease my guilt. This is only one of the many reasons why I like Sheriff Brophy.

  "I couldn't just leave you there. The gabbies would've eaten you." I stand up and pace to the other side of the room. The uneasiness makes it hard for me to stay seated.

  "Sure, you could've. But you didn't. You have a good heart." He winces when he shifts his position.

  I look up with surprise as Daria runs into the room with Vinny right on her heels. Her excitement seems ready to burst from her tiny body as she bounces on the balls of her feet.

  "You guys," she says. "I hacked the CDC's server. It turns out this whole epidemic was started by rats."

  "What?" Daria hacked into the CDC? I don’t even recall having seen her on a computer since she's been living in our house except for the other day. "How'd you know how to do that?"

  She sits down and bites her lower lip. "I, um... I was busted a few years ago for hacking into some government files. I was on probation and couldn’t touch a computer.” Well, that explains a lot.

  "Wow. I guess today is the day for confessions," Dean says.

  Daria looks at me. "You told him?"

  I give her a nod.

  "Good. Now he knows what we might be dealing with. I also checked on Seth's status, and it's true. Cook County Department of Corrections freed their prisoners. He's out there. Somewhere."

  I was telling myself over and over that maybe Seth's facility somehow didn't get the memo. That they didn't free everyone. Hearing Daria confirm Seth is out makes it hard to breathe. My lungs feel like they’re filled with water. The room is getting darker, and I swear it’s closing in on me.

  Dean stands and lays his hand on my back. "Put your head between your knees. You're going to hyperventilate."

  The room begins to spin, so I do as Dean says. I hug my ears with my legs. Soon my breathing slows.

  Everyone is quiet, and I can feel their eyes on me. I hate being the center of attention.

  The soft buzzing in my ears fade. I finally sit upright, worry still gnawing its way through my stomach lining.

  "Good," Dean says. "Feel any better?"

  I nod, unable to say anything. I'm not good, but at least I can breathe now.

  Daria starts back up. "Sorry, Raven. Anyway, I hacked into the CDC, and I read that they knew about this a few weeks ago. They found that rats from China carried the disease over here on boats. Those bastards kept this whole fiasco quiet."

  "Why would they do that?" Dean asks.

  "Think about it. If they let everyone know a virus that turns people into zombies was loose in the city, it would cause mass hysteria. People would panic and the government wouldn’t be able to control the chaos," the sheriff says.

  "Just think of how many lives could've been saved," Dean adds. "Everyone could've prepared better."

  Daria continues, "They warned all the big wigs in Washington to go hide in a secret location. I've been trying to hack into different databases and emails to find out where that location is, but I haven't had any luck. I'll find them though."

  I'm still blown away that Daria is a hacker. "What are you going to do when you locate them?"

  "There's nothing we really can do," Dean says.

  "I know, but I'd love to send them a message saying ‘I know where you guys are and what you did’ just to scare them." Daria smiles a sinister grin.

  A thought dawns on me. "Where's Helga? How'd she know about the rats? I know they had a theory about it on television, but it was just a guess."

  Vinny speaks up, "She's cooking breakfast with Maria and Ben."

  Maria. I've always called her Mrs. Garcia. I don't know why, maybe out of respect. She's like a grandmother to me.

  "When is it going to be ready? I'm starved." Dean rubs his stomach. Even though he's super thin, he's always hungry. He must have a tapeworm or something.

  Joey's voice comes over the radio. "You guys have to come up here and see this."

  Everyone except the sheriff runs up the stairs.

  Star and Joey are peering through the curtains.

  I take a look. There's a group of four zombies stumbling down the block, stark naked. They have red and blue body paint covering them. "What the heck? How'd that happen?"

  They shuffle closer.

  Joey's eyes are buried in his binoculars. "Look, they have bite marks. Whatever they were doing, they were interrupted."

  Two more gabbies come into view. They’re much shorter with big bows on their heads. It’s the creepy twins.

  "Check out the pint-size zombies," Joey says.

  "Talk about spooky," Vinny says under his breath.

  They close in on the four painted ones. Almost as if they are stalking them. I don't want to watch, but I can't help it. It's like when you're driving down the road, and there's an accident. You have to sneak a peek to see if anyone is hurt.

  The twins split up. The four adult gabbies open their mouths. You can almost hear them hissing at the little girls.

  "Oh no. They're going to eat the little creepy girls," Star says.

  I really don't know how I feel about this. On one hand, they're little kids, and no one wants to see children hurt. On the other, I’m getting some serious heebie-jeebie vibes from these two. Like something isn’t right with them, even worse than them being undead. I just don't know how to explain it.

  One of the twins jumps up onto one of the female’s backs and rips out the throat with her teeth. Strips of muscle and other stuff hangs from her mouth. The assaulted gabbie stumbles and falls. Evil twin jumps off. The other adult gabbies pounce on the wounded one, gnashing their teeth while taking chunks out of her arms and legs.

  The other twin tears into the neck of one of the males biting the grounded female. Dark brownish blood, flesh, and other gross stuff flings into the air.

  "That's disgusting," Star says.

  "What's really odd is that the adults aren’t attacking the children zombies. It's almost as if the little girls dominate them," Dean adds.

  “They dominate in creepiness, that’s for sure.” I take a step away from the window.

  "I can't watch anymore." Star hands her binoculars to Vinny.

  He takes them from her and pulls them to his eyes to get a closer view. "It's almost as if they coordinated the whole thing."

 
True. They move like they know what the other is going to do next.

  "What are we going to do about them?" Daria asks.

  No one wants to go outside and smash a little girl's head in, even if they're freaks.

  They're huddled over the adults, tearing and shredding them into bits.

  "Should we shoot them?" Vinny asks.

  Joey opens the window and pulls out his rifle, taking aim. It still has a silencer on it, so we won’t have to worry about attracting unwanted attention

  Before he can squeeze the trigger, the little gabbies look up at the window and take off running.

  "Now that's weird. Not only did they somehow know we were about to shoot them, they also move incredibly fast." Joey lowers his weapon and shakes his head.

  "Those two are at the top of my kill list," Vinny says.

  "Who's going to go out there and clean up the mess? It might attract other zombies," Daria says.

  "Breakfast is ready," Mrs. Garcia says over the radio.

  The last thing I want to do is eat bacon. All that gabbie grizzle and muscle is turning my stomach.

  "We’ll leave it for now. We don't want to be out there if they come back. I don't know why those two move with more speed and coordination than the others, but now we have to be even more careful," Dean says.

  "What if children are like super zombies? What if they can plan attacks?" I ask.

  "Well, if they are, we're going to have an even bigger problem," he says.

  12

  What a freakin nightmare. Mrs. Garcia sets the table with a china place setting for each of us. The table could pass for a holiday meal. She's worried about her family. She hasn't mentioned her children or other grandchildren. Sometimes I see her and Ben sneak off to another room. Maybe to comfort each other. I'm lucky, everyone I care about is here.

  Star and Joey are still upstairs, keeping watch for the gabbies and the bad guys. Before they went up, I promised we’d bring them each a plate. They're still on the clock until the next shift because someone has to keep watch at all times.

  The kitchen is filled with delicious scent of eggs, biscuits and gravy, and pancakes Mrs. Garcia has prepared for us. The woman is a whiz in the kitchen, even with limited resources. She has two pots of rich coffee waiting for us. I pour orange juice into my mug. I'll need to sleep after this, and caffeine will keep me awake. I fill my plate and sit down at the large dining room table.

  Dean sits next to me. He douses his pancakes and eggs in syrup. Yuck.

  "What's on the agenda today?" Dean asks as he shovels a spoonful of food into his mouth.

  I chew my eggs before I speak. No one wants to see a mouth full of half-eaten food. "I think we should go to Summer Hill and see if Clark and his family made it. I wish he'd asked me to help them search for Claire.”

  "The sheriff wants to go," Dean says.

  "That's fine. He'll be able to relax and heal there." I take another bite. For some reason, I'm ravenous today.

  "I thought you are against refugee camps?"

  "From what I've seen in movies and books, they'll be a target and probably go down quickly. We've discussed this. But, if people want to go there, we can't stop them. I’ll let the sheriff know what I think before we drop him off. It's a false sense of security. I get it. But I want to be the one protecting myself and not have to depend on someone else while I’m unarmed.”

  "You always speak your mind" Dean says.

  "Of course. Would you want it any other way?" I give him a devious smile.

  "No, I guess not."

  I finish my breakfast and scoot my chair back from the table. "I'm going to get some sleep."

  "Me too." Dean turns to the others still eating. "Wake us up if something happens."

  "Don't worry. We will," Daria says.

  "I'll bring Star and Joey some food while it's still warm," Mrs. Garcia says.

  I take a quick shower and snuggle into a bed with fresh sheets. I breathe in the crisp smell of fabric softener. If I didn't know better, I'd say this was a normal day. But the world is far from ordinary. I finally doze off.

  I startle awake when Star runs into my room. "The electricity just went out," she says.

  And so it begins. "Already?" I rub some of the sleepy seeds from my eyes.

  "It flickered for about fifteen minutes, and now it’s completely off."

  "Okay. We knew this would happen. Did you pull out the solar phone chargers and panel?" I thought we'd have at least a week. This is happening way too fast.

  "We did. We also unpacked your small generator." She raises her chin.

  "Okay. Did we fill the coolers with ice?"

  "Yes. Mrs. Garcia has stayed on top of that. It's enchilada night again. I can't wait." Yum. Her enchiladas are the best. The tender chicken, creamy cheese, and her spicy red sauce are to die for. Poor choice of words.

  "How long did I sleep?" It feels like I just closed my eyes.

  "You've been out for five hours. Dean is up." She pulls my covers back. "Rise and shine."

  Five hours? I drag my sleepy butt out of bed. The sun is still up, so that's a good thing. I dress in my zombie combat gear. Mrs. Garcia had washed, folded, and laid out my clothes at the foot of my bed. The soft leather made it through the wash okay. It must be synthetic.

  Dean and the sheriff are downstairs playing cards. They look up at me when I walk into the living room.

  "I'm glad you were able to get some sleep," Dean says.

  "Hey Raven." The sheriff nods at me.

  I sit down and watch them play war. The sheriff wins.

  "Ready to head out?" Dean asks.

  "I'm ready as I'll ever be," I say.

  Joey helps the sheriff into the back seat of my truck. We take out some of the items in the truck bed. I don't want to parade my stash through the town. We could get ambushed and lose everything.

  Dean slides into the passenger seat and buckles his seat belt.

  Summer Hill Estates is a subdivision and only a couple miles away, but when there are bad guys and gabbies around, those couple miles can feel like hundreds.

  The stop lights are off, due to no power, and the streets are abandoned except for the dead. They huddle around a clump of something on the sidewalk. I don't look. I don't want to see the poor soul who didn't make it. I need to stay positive.

  Finally, we pull up to Summer Hill Estates. The subdivision is surrounded by an eight-foot brick border. A newly constructed twelve-foot chain link fence stretches across the entrance. As I drive closer, I notice four armed guards, talking in front.

  I roll my window down. "Hello. We have the sheriff here. He's been shot and needs medical attention."

  They're dressed in Kevlar vests, helmets, and carrying rifles. Suddenly, Kevlar seems like a better idea than just leather. We'll have to check out some motorcycle shops and look for some.

  "Step out of the truck please," the taller one on the right says as he keeps his rifle trained on me.

  I turn to Dean. "Let's do this." We get out of the truck. I leave my pistol and knife inside.

  Dean helps the sheriff out of the back seat. He can barely stand and balances on his good leg.

  "Are any of you sick or bitten?" the guard asks.

  We shake our heads to say no.

  "Okay. Here are the rules. You will be unarmed and checked for signs of the virus. Once you come in, you will stay inside until we say you can leave."

  And that's why I won't be going inside. I'm not relinquishing my weapons. It's always the same in all the books and movies. They think they can protect us right up until they get overrun by zombies or crazies, and then you're left unarmed with your thumb in your butt. "I'm not coming in. We're just dropping off the sheriff."

  "Ma'am. It's too dangerous to live out there. We have intel that says there's a group of men terrorizing the citizens of this town." The soldier looks about eighteen. His name tag reads, Private Honey. Boy, could I have some fun with that. I decide not to push my limits, he has a weapon af
ter all.

  "We know. That's the group who shot the sheriff." I stand up straighter.

  "We highly recommend you come inside," he says to me. His rifle isn't pointed at me, but his finger twitches next to the trigger. It makes me nervous.

  "No, thank you. We appreciate the offer, but we're going to take our chances out here. Please help the sheriff into your camp." I need to be firm so they don't get any ideas about forcing us.

  One of the other soldiers moves toward Sheriff Brophy. He wraps his arm around his waist and helps him toward the gate. He stops before they enter. Another soldier pats him down and takes his sidearm. They walk him inside.

  "We also would like to check on our neighbors if possible. They were headed this way. Their last name is Washington. There's Clark, Claire, and their three sons."

  Soldier Honey pulls a clipboard off the fence. He traces his finger down the list and stops halfway. "I see their names. It looks like they all made it."

  "Including Claire?" Dean asks.

  "Yes. Her name is right here." He shows us the register. All five of them are listed.

  A huge weight is lifted from my shoulders. I'm so glad they're all okay. "Can we leave them a note?"

  "I don't see why not." He hands me a pen and paper.

  DEAR WASHINGTONS. WE'RE HAPPY YOU ARE ALL OKAY. WE MOVED BECAUSE IT WAS TO DANGEROUS TO STAY AT THE MOBILE HOME PARK. HERE IS THE NEW ADDRESS.

  I wrote down Joey's address and signed all of our names. I handed the note to the soldier. "Thank you."

  "No problem, Ma'am." He tips the front of his helmet to me, and it makes me feel old.