Friggin Zombies

by N. C. Reed

  The news was at least as bad this morning as it had been last night. Riots were still happening everywhere with looting, shooting and random violence in almost every major city, our nearby neighbor being no exception. I looked for any news of a Martial Law declaration or a travel ban but there was none.

  I didn't understand that and I still don't. It didn't make sense then and I've seen nothing since to explain it. Why did we not have a travel ban at the very least? Anything to keep the virus from having a way to spread like this? As it was there were no restrictions at all in place. Now I'm the first to admit that those restrictions would probably not have slowed down the rioting and what have you, but it might, might have helped in other areas. Since it wasn't done, we'll never know.

  I moved to the kitchen with my laptop and used it to watch the latest news stories while I finished breakfast. My lovely doctor was determined to go and see her patients so she needed a good breakfast to start the day and eating breakfast 'out' this morning might be dicey at best. I heard her alarm clock sound and then shut off a moment later. It wasn't long until I heard water running and smiled. She had gone to 'her' bathroom to get ready. Made sense since her things were still there. She'd sooner or later 'move' into my bathroom I was sure, which meant I'd probably be using the hallway bathroom more. I didn't have a problem with that, considering that. . . .

  My ruminations on my newly acquired domestic bliss were interrupted when my phone rang. My home phone, no less. At least we know it's working I thought as I crossed to check the number. I was surprised to see my office number on the caller identification. I checked my watch. Six-twenty a.m. Strange. I picked up the phone.

  “Hello?” I made no attempt to sound asleep. No point in it.

  “Drake did you know about this?” My boss/partner Jimmie Melton all but screamed in my ear.

  “Uh, I'd have to know what 'this' is before I can answer that,” I replied carefully. “And I'm feeling better, yes. Thanks for asking.”

  “You know what I mean!” Melton screamed again. “You knew all this shit was coming, didn't you?”

  “If by that you are referring to the riots and looting that I just saw on television, then no, James, I did not know. I still don't understand what they're protesting over.”

  “I mean the zombies you bastard!” Melton continued to scream. Oh me. What to do now? Yes I had known. No I had not told anyone else other than Connie and I hadn't planned on telling her. Considering how that had worked out I was still very, very glad I hard. Had. I meant had. Swear I did.

  “No, I did not,” I said evenly. “I knew there was some kind of sickness in Europe. Heard it at the doctor's office in fact. Was supposed to be some kind of avian flu derivative.” All of that was technically true. Connie had told me all that as I sat in her exam room. “I even got an extra shot because of it, right in the ass,” I added. Also technically true. I got the shot because I was in a room full of sick people and I would not have been there if not for the 'sickness' in Europe. So technically I could say with a clear conscience that I had gotten a shot because of what was happening in Europe at the time.

  If lying were an Olympic sport, I'd be a medal contender. If we still had Olympics.

  “Drake, I know you keep up with this end-of-the-world shit,” Melton sounded a bit calmer now. “You had to know something.”

  “I know just what was on the television, Jimmie,” I replied truthfully. “I haven't actually heard the word zombie except from locals and on the web either,” I added.

  “You've seen them,” Melton snorted as if that was all the answer he needed. And it was.

  “What can I do?” he asked suddenly.

  “Uh, what do you mean?” I asked cautiously.

  “There's at least a little time left so what can I do?” he asked again. “There's got to be a way I can help my family and escape this.”

  “Look, I don't know what to tell you James,” I admitted. “How much food do you have stored?”

  “Not much,” he admitted. “My wife shops week to week and we eat out a lot. There won't be much.”

  “You live in the city, don't you?” I temporized.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Well, getting out would be the best thing you could do if it's possible,” I told him flatly. “Do you guys have any relatives that live outside the city? Maybe on a farm for instance? Somewhere you could make room for yourself and be able to at least grow a garden to feed yourselves if this doesn't stop?”

  “Garden?” Melton sounded pissed. “I'm surrounded by a burning city and you want to talk to me about gardening?”

  “You asked what you could do, James,” I replied as Connie came walking into the kitchen. She was Doctor Hottie today and looked gorgeous and I admit my attention might have strayed a bit from. . . .

  “Drake are you listening to me?” James Melton's voice brought me back to the phone.

  “Look, you asked what you could do,” I repeated. “You need to get out of the city if you can and get somewhere off the beaten path. A remote cabin, a family farm, somewhere with family if you can find it. You need to prioritize what you take with you. Drain one car of gas to carry with you and use in the other. Pack food, clothes, shoes, medicines, first-aid supplies, blankets and water. Anything that will carry water fill it from the tap before the services stop.”

  “What?” Melton was back to screaming. “Who said anything about the water stopping?”

  “James look around you,” I was about to scream myself. “Do you seriously think that the city will be able to keep services on in this mess? Hell, the guys who run the plant may not even be able to get to work? What happens if the power dies? No way to clean water, man, or get it to you. You need to find a place with a well if you can.”

  “Do you have one?” he demanded.

  “No, I don't,” I admitted. “I tried twice to drill one but. . .nothing. I've got two barrels of water in my garage and. . .well, that's it,” I admitted. “If the utilities stop working I'll be forced to drink out of the creek behind my house. Assuming it has water in it, which it doesn't always.”

  “So what are you doing?” Melton demanded.

  “I'm hoping this goes away,” I replied, meaning every word. “I don't have any options. No family to go to and no friends living on farms. All I can do is hope it rains regular and that my little garden can feed me.”

  “Some survivalist you turned out to be,” Melton snorted.

  “Hey, in my defense I was prepared for an earthquake or something like that. How was I supposed to know there was going to be a zombie outbreak?” I tried to sound a little miffed but basically I was trying to sound like I was on the edge of survival myself and water was my Achilles' Heel. James was right on the cusp of asking me to let him come to my place, and that was out. He and his wife were so snobbish that it hurt to be around them and their two kids were spoiled monsters.

  And I flat didn't have enough water for them. Period.

  “I should just come out there and make you take care of me,” Melton said almost as if he were reading my mind.

  “I doubt you could get here, James, and that wouldn't work anyway,” I tried to keep my voice even. “I don't have the water. And I can't get it, either.”

  “Surrounded by guns and nothing to drink,” James snorted again and I was starting to get tired of this.

  “Surely you or your wife one have some family around,” I told him. “Someone further out of the city that you are. A place where you can hole up until this blows over.”

  “My wife's family have a farm,” he admitted. “But they hate my guts. They'll demand that me and my kids help work their damn farm and I'll be damned if I will.”

  “Then you'll probably be hungry, James,” I said bluntly. “If this doesn't straighten out, only hard work and toughness will get you through. You may not like it but that's the way it is right now. I'd make good with the in-laws and start teaching my kids to farm, just in case. If all this dries up you can always just co
me home and tell the folks to shove it and thanks for the memories,” I joked, and he laughed a bit.

  “Yeah, that might work for a while,” he said and I relaxed a little. “Well, I better get going. Thanks for the info.” The dial tone was the next thing I heard. I hung up the phone, shaking my head as I did so.

  “Who was that?” Connie asked, still standing nearby, hands on her hips.

  “My boss. Partner. Whatever,” I waved the title away. “He wanted to know if I knew about all this. I played a little dumb and maybe lied a little but only by omission,” I added, hand raised in virtue.

  “I don't care if you lied to him just as long as you never lie to me,” she stressed and kissed me.

  “I would die first,” I told her without thinking and she blinked at that, eyes wide.

  “I would,” I shrugged, repeating it. “There's no way I would lie to you. You mean too much to me to risk in any way for any reason.” I figured it was truth time here and that was the honest truth if I've ever told it. She almost teared up at my declaration and hugged me tightly for a minute. I finally pried her away and pointed to a chair.

  “Take a seat, Doctor Hottie,” I said before I thought and she looked at me, startled. Damn my traitorous tongue.

  “'Doctor Hottie'?” she asked, eyebrows raised. I blushed a bit and hurried to get her food.

  “Slip of the tongue,” I told her. “I . . . it's a compliment, promise,” I added when the first didn't seem to work.

  “Have you ever, and I remind you of the promise you just made to me,” she pointed to where I had been standing when I promised not to lie, “ever, called me that to anyone else, ever?”

  “Not that I can think of,” I admitted after a moment's thought. “It was just how I always thought of you, that's all. I mean, you're a doctor and you're hotter than the Fourth of July so it just seemed. . .what?” I asked as she started laughing. “What is it?” I demanded.

  “Oh, that was priceless!” she wailed in laughter once again at my expense. “You looked like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar!” I let her laugh for another few seconds before I replied;

  “That would be technically accurate,” I told her with my own eyebrow raised. That shut her up as her face went beet red and she was suddenly fascinated with her breakfast. She murmured something.

  “What?” I asked her and she looked up, smiling sheepishly.

  “I said that was a good one, and thank you,” she told me.

  “For what?” I asked, frowning.

  “For playing and laughing and making me smile,” she replied. “For helping me forget, even for a few minutes, what may be happening all around us. Thank you.” I moved to where she sat and pulled her into a bone crunching hug which she returned just as hard.

  “I'll always try to make you smile,” I whispered. “And, idiot that I am, I'm sure I'll keep you in stitches for years to come,” I added after a few seconds and felt her shake with laughter that she was trying to contain. I released her and stood back looking at her, at which point she burst into laughter again.

  “Sit and eat!” I demanded. “We'll have to start in soon.” I left her still laughing and eating while I went to get a shower and get dressed. By the time I got back she was all but ready to go and placed Ram in the garage along with his toys and food and water dishes. I checked my inventory and decided I had all I needed. I grabbed my remote and followed her outside.

  We exited through the garage with Ram still yapping his indignation at being left behind. I helped Connie into Baby's front seat and then crawled into the driver's seat. I started the engine, and while it warmed a second I held up the remote.

  “Observe,” I told Connie and pressed a button.

  Metal shutters slid into place over each window and door, including the garage doors, slamming shut with enough force that we could hear it over Baby's rumble.

  “Holy shit,” Connie exclaimed. “That's amazing!”

  “Thank you, my Queen,” I bowed slightly. “Your Nerd lives to serve.”

  She was still laughing as we pulled out onto the road and the gate closed behind us.

  *****

  If town had been a madhouse on Saturday it was an asylum on Monday. I will admit in hindsight we should have expected it to be worse. All I can say is that I had thought perhaps things might have calmed a bit once the initial panic was over. Clearly the initial panic was not over when we got to town Monday morning.

  Baby didn't have any trouble negotiating the mess since most sensible people yielded to her in traffic. I managed not to smirk about it but it was difficult. Riding in Big Baby also gave us better vision in traffic since we were so high off the ground.

  “I have to admit this monstrosity has its uses,” Connie grudgingly complimented. I'm assuming she was just miffed about having the climb in and out. Better a little difficulty than sorry though, right?

  “She's awesome,” I nodded, weaving in and out of traffic as we headed for her office. There were three wrecks along the way, the drivers having abandoned the cars that were damaged too badly to continue driving. Apparently the police were no less busy today than they had been Saturday night. That couldn't be good.

  Despite the traffic issues we made it to Connie's office without any real difficulty. The difficulty started when we got there.

  The glass entrance door to her practice was shattered and the picture window in the waiting room was broken.

  “Aw, hell,” Connie sounded more pissed off than anything. “That's a mess,” she sighed. She opened her door but I grabbed her arm before she could step out.

  “Calmly now,” I warned. “For all we know whoever did it is still in there.” I could tell by the look in her eyes that she hadn't thought of that. “We'll check it out together and then see if we can get the police out here,” I told her. She nodded and reached into her bag, pulling her pistol. I hit the kill switch on my Baby to prevent anyone stealing her and climbed down, drawing my own pistol. The same one I had used to kill Methie with in fact. That was a sobering thought.

  “Let's try not to have to shoot anybody,” Connie said as she met me in front of the rig. I nodded, starting to wonder if she could read my mind. I took a deep breath and stepped through the broken door frame, cutting the room with my pistol. The waiting room was empty and there didn't seem to be any damage other than the door and window. The security door to the patient exam and records area was hanging on the bottom hinge.

  I nodded to the door and made my way over there, Connie following where she could cover me. That almost sounds like cop shit doesn't it? Truth is this was one of the things we trained for at the club once in a while. Even though we weren't professionals we knew enough to get the job done.

  I entered the hallway and reached for the light switch. The lights flared to life in the hallway and Connie groaned at the destruction visible.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” she muttered. “What the hell do I pay the alarm company and taxes for?” I agreed but stayed focused. I'd been down this road once already. I made my way down the hall, checking each room as I went while Connie kept the hallway and our backs clear. It was slow going with office furniture and equipment laying everywhere. Whoever had done this had thoroughly trashed my doctor's office.

  It took nearly ten minutes of careful checking to ensure that the clinic was clear and we were alone. As soon as we were sure of that Connie made a beeline to her drug safe. I imagined it had began it's life as a gun safe and been modified for medical use by the look of it. Set into the wall and anchored in concrete, the robbers had not been able to get inside the massive thing.

  “Well, there's that, anyway,” she sighed, leaning against the safe. “Damn what a mess,” she added, looking around despondently.

  “I'd guess that's why the place is trashed,” I told her, holstering my pistol. “They couldn't get what they were after and decided to tear the office up instead.”

  “Bastards,” Connie muttered. “Look at my records!” she almost w
ailed. “This will take days to straighten out!” I sympathized with her but it was time to call the police in on this. I tried an office phone and was surprised to get a dial tone. I called the police direct instead of 911.

  “Police,” a voice dulled by exhaustion answered after maybe seven rings.

  “This is Shelton Drake,” I said. “I'm at Doctor Kane's office on Temple and she's had a break-in. Can you send an officer?” I wasn't expecting to get anyone to be honest and I wasn't disappointed.

  “Inventory what's missing and we'll generate a report from here for the insurance,” the dispatcher said tonelessly. “I'm sorry, sir, but with everything that's happening that's about all we can do.”

  “I understand,” I replied politely. “I assumed as much to be honest but decided we needed to call in to make sure.”

  “Thank you for understanding,” the dispatcher said, her voice softening a bit. “Please be careful. Now that you're in the office they may return, especially if they think you have access to drugs.”

  “We'll watch ourselves,” I promised and hung up. I looked at Connie who was still languishing over her medical records.

  “No dice on the cops,” I said evenly. “And the dispatcher warned that whoever did it might come back since they couldn't get the drugs. If they think someone's here who has access they might try again.”

  “I hope they do,” Connie muttered dangerously. She was seriously pissed off and I couldn't blame her.

  “Are your records backed up on disk?” I asked and she shook her head.

  “No,” she sighed. “I was going to transition into a new computer system later this year. Already had the set-up for it, just hadn't had the time. It's a lot of work to get all that turned over into computer records.”

  “If things straighten out I'll help you,” I promised and she smiled at that.

  “My very own computer nerd,” she said softly and I laughed.

  “I need to do something about that door and window I guess,” I sighed. “Look, I don't want to leave you here alone but I'll need to go and get some plywood to close that up,” I indicated the broken window and door. “I suppose we might get lucky and get them replaced but I wouldn't hold my breath.”