Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel

by P. A. Douglas

  Steve stood empty handed, appearing dumbfounded. “No . . . I don’t have everything.”

  “Well, what are you missing?”

  “You think the coffee is still warm? I sure could use some coffee,” Steve said.

  “You are fucking worthless.”

  The clatter at the door prevented Steve from giving a quick rebuttal. The dead were hungry and they sensed that food lay beyond the coffee shop’s entrance. Steve dropped the half-eaten bag of chips and picked up his bat. He turned and briskly made his way around the coffee bar.

  Two, then three, then five ghouls appeared at the busted window, their snarling teeth eager for flesh. They started climbing through once more.

  “I love rehashing old memories, but let’s get the hell out of here,” Chris said, pulling the gun back out.

  No one protested.

  They wasted no time and made it out the back door. Bloody handprints and grime stained the door. Chris slammed it shut and grabbed an old chair used for smoke breaks to hold it shut. He propped it up under the door handle, just as it began to vibrate with the thumping of dead knuckles.

  “Come on! Let’s go!” Stephanie shouted from the car, as it came to life.

  Steve climbed in the front passenger seat with the bat still in his hand. “Come on, Chris!”

  Several zombies in the distance shuffled in their direction, each one brutally mangled. Steve reached back and unlocked the passenger door, frantically waving for Chris to get in. As Chris leaped for the door and pulled it open, the dead boy who attacked them earlier caught him by the ankle. It had never gotten to its feet and was dragging itself around on the ground, its bloody entrails trailing around the back lot from its belly.

  The back door of the shop swung open and three zombies spilled out. They were heading straight for him. The boy’s frail little arms pulled and tugged, but he was too weak to overpower Chris. A trail of the boy’s bowels and entrails stained the cement as Chis pulled it along.

  Chris aimed his gun at the boy’s head and muttered a soft prayer.

  The shot rang out, slamming the undead child onto the pavement; its pink oozing brain and bone fragments spread across the ground. Chris’ heart raced ninety miles a minute as he fell headlong into the backseat of the car. The car raced off, and careened down the street and past a cluster of ghouls, before he even tried to close the door. More zombies filed out the back of the coffee shop, as he gave it one last glance.

  “Take a right!” Chris shouted, still shaking.

  “My house is the other way!”

  The loud sounds of unfamiliar hip-hop blared through the speakers as he shouted. “Take a right! I need to see something.”

  The car veered sharply to the right, just past the backside of the gas station.

  “Stop the car! Stop the car!”

  “Fuck that!” Stephanie shouted back. “We need to get the hell out of here. It’s murder central out there, in case you haven’t noticed!”

  “Stop the fucking car, NOW!” Chris jabbed the pistol beside Steve’s head. “I said stop!”

  “Stop the damn car, Stephanie!” Steve sobbed out loud with both hands in the air.

  Stephanie slammed on the brakes. Chris jumped out the car and jogged up the block a short distance. He searched the ground for a second and scanned the surrounding buildings.

  “What the hell is going on?” Stephanie asked looking on from inside the car.

  “Just give him a minute, woman.” Steve opened his door and began to step out.

  “Where the hell are you going? Get back in the car! Let’s leave his ass!”

  “No, wait. Just wait here for a second.”

  “What the hell do you mean, wait? He just had a fucking gun to your head, Steve.”

  “Just hold on a second, I said. I think I know what’s up,” Steve said getting out, but not before snatching up his baseball bat. Just before closing the car door, he said, “This is the same street we came down with Mark.”

  “Steve, he was going to shoot you.” Stephanie pointed out at Chris standing in the middle of the street.

  “No, he wasn’t. He did what he had to. It got you to stop, didn’t it?” Steve jogged off and met up with Chris, not bothering to shut his car door.

  “Well, I’m not about to sit in the car alone.” Paranoid, Stephanie looked in the rearview mirror and in the backseats before deciding to get out. She left her door open and the car running. “What is the big fucking deal with you two?”

  “He was right here! He was right effing here, I know it.” Chris pointed to a puddle of dried blood on the sidewalk. A familiar building lit up the night in an orange and white glow. The building blazed on.

  Steve stood and let Chris purge his emotional system.

  Chris could tell by Stephanie’s expression that she understood. Mark had died right where they were standing, but the body was missing.

  “He’s one of them, Steve. He turned into a zombie!” Chris fell to his knees and began to cry. He buried his face in his palms and felt his strength ebb. He had reached his end. “Mark…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

  “Hey man, it’s not your fault. All right?” Steve said, and placed a hand on Chris’ shoulder.

  “Why? Why?” Chris’ emotions flooded to the surface. The gun slipped from his hand and fell to the sidewalk.

  “I hate to break the moment, guys, but Chris is being a little loud and we’re getting noticed.” Stephanie pointed toward the end of the street.

  Zombies stepped out of the shadows and into the streetlight. Their moans echoed out into the night calling for more to join their ranks.

  Chris ignored her.

  “Steve,” Stephanie said. “We’ve got to go!”

  Chris choked back his heavy sobs and wiped his eyes dry. Chris whispered, “I saw him, Steve. I saw him before we went back to The Beanery. He’s a zombie. He’s one of them. Going to walk the earth forever eating people. We can’t let that happen, Steve. Mark hated meat. He was a vegetarian.”

  Stephanie chuckled under her breath.

  Steve glared at her and then looked back down at Chris.

  “We have to help him. You wouldn’t want to be one of those things either.”

  “Man, I think you’re losing it, dude.”

  “No, I’m not. We have to help Mark!”

  “Hell no we don’t,” both Steve and Stephanie said in unison.

  Chris took in a deep breath, retrieved the pistol, and stood up, looking at them through bloodshot eyes. “He would do it for me, and you know it.”

  Chris turned away from his two friends and started back down the road toward the convenience store.

  “Chris! Chris! You’re going to get yourself killed!” Steve pleaded.

  “Do something!” Stephanie yelled.

  With a heavy sigh, Steve said, “It’s not my job to be the hero.”

  “Go after him!” Stephanie said.

  “All right, get the car and catch up with us. I’ll go get him. This is freaking ridiculous.”

  Stephanie smiled and ran back to the car. Up ahead, Chris had managed to stumble forty feet or more down the street, heading straight into a patch of ghouls at the end of the road. Steve caught up to him. A second later, so did the car.

  “You’re not going to stop me, man. Mark needs us.” Chris’ eyes reflected madness, as he stomped forward.

  “Listen, dude, right now you’re putting lives in danger; yours, Stephanie’s, and mine. That’s not cool, so just get in the car, please?” Steve opened the car door, hoping that Chris would come to his senses.

  “No!”

  “Okay, man. Then you leave me no choice. Either you get in the car or I’m going to make you.”

  In only a few brief moments, the street ahead had crowded with over a dozen undead corpses and they were walking straight for Chris. He was so consumed with his loss that he no longer cared about his own safety.

  Steve was too selfish to let anything get in the way of self-preservation. Th
e stench of rotted meat and entrails reached his nose. Stiffened arms of the lumbering dead were reaching toward the car. Time was running out.

  “Last chance, Chris.”

  “No, you can forget it. I’m not leaving a band member behind. He needs us, man.”

  Steve waved the bat and gave Chris a glancing blow to the head.

  * * *

  Chris awoke to the soft hum of a steadily cruising car engine. His head throbbed as he attempted to gather his wits. With blurry vision, he focused on the overhead light on the car’s headliner. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his head spiked. His fingers gently explored the back of his head and he found a tender lump the size of a golf ball. It felt wet, but when his hand came away, there was no blood. What the hell happened? Where am I? Had all of this been a dream? He considered the idea that Steve had gotten him really drunk again. The last two times that happened, the band lost the gig and they were kicked out of the bar. Faint chatter of conversation came from the front seat, too low for him to understand.

  “Where are we?” Chris managed to say. “What the hell happened?”

  “Well, it’s about time. The superhero has opened his eyes. How you feeling, man?” Steve turned around in the front seat, not restrained by the safety harness. “Sorry for the bump. No hard feelings?”

  “Hey Chris, glad you could join us,” Stephanie said from behind the wheel. “So like I was saying, then she just totally dumped the guy right there in front of everyone.”

  “Man, I bet that dude was pissed.” Steve said, returning his attention to Stephanie.

  The two laughed and then Stephanie continued her story.

  Chris realized where he was, and figured out what happened for him to end up in the backseat of a car instead of meeting his end with teeth of the walking dead. As much as he hated busting a perfectly good show after too many drinks, it would have been better than waking up to the nightmare he was now living.

  He sat up and wondered how long he had been unconscious. It couldn’t have been long. Stephanie said she lived twenty minutes away. The power was still on in the neighborhood, but most of the houses had their lights off. Vehicles littered the street making Stephanie slow down to avoid the obstacles. Water shot into the air from a busted fire hydrant. The car that crashed into it had a body sprawled out across the hood.

  Chris sighed. At least that person had died a somewhat natural death, unlike Mark. On closer inspection of the neighborhood, windows were broken out of houses, fences were busted and mailboxes were obliterated. Every house told the same tragic tale; destruction. At least, he didn’t see any of them lingering out in the street.

  However, that didn’t last long; a battered zombie shuffled out from behind an abandoned home. Drawn by the noise of the car, it reached its arms out in hopes of catching a prize.

  My freaking head, Chris thought, rubbing the sore lump again.

  “Dude, you were out like almost an hour,” Steve said.

  “I was just about to ask that. Ahh . . . my head is killing me. What the hell happened?”

  “Well, man…,” Steve started, but Chris cut him off.

  “An hour? I thought Stephanie’s house was pretty close.”

  “The highway is blocked,” Stephanie said.

  “For real,” Steve agreed. “It was a wild mess for sure. Took us thirty minutes just to turn around and get off the interstate. We’ve been hitting all the side streets trying to get there. Shouldn’t be that far now.”

  “Yep, just the end of the block,” Stephanie confirmed. “Had me worried for a minute, there kid. You were zonked the crap out.”

  Chris reached for the gun in the back of his pants. It wasn’t there.

  Steve saw Chris searching his body and he asked, “Looking for this?” He waved the gun in the air.

  Chris reached out to grab it, but Steve yanked away. “Now, you don’t get this back unless you learn to chill the hell out. We cool?” he asked, holding the gun just out of reach.

  “Yeah, we’re cool,” Chris said, feeling ashamed; not for pointing the gun at Steve earlier, but for failing Mark when he needed him the most.

  Stephanie looked at Steve with concern written in her expression.

  “It won’t happen again, I promise. I know I lost my cool, but can you honestly blame me?”

  “No, I guess not,” Stephanie said.

  “Mark was one of my best friends and now he’s gone. Honestly, I don’t think it has really even sunk in yet either. Probably won’t for a while. I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have put you guys at risk like that.” Chris sat in silence a moment, thinking about that stupid man playing the lotto and how self-interest got someone else killed. He realized he wasn’t any better. He endangered Steve’s life, as well as Stephanie’s, and he knew it.

  Steve handed Chris the gun. He looked at it for a while. He knew he needed to keep his head on straight no matter what happened from here on out. His friends depended on it. They needed him just as much as he needed them.

  “I’m sorry, Mark,” he moaned under his breath. “I’m sorry.”

  For a while, the car rolled on in silence, before coming to a stop at the back of a narrow dead end road. “This is the place.” The house was small and all the lights were off, just as she had left it. The driveway leading up to the front door was well lit from the neighboring streetlight a few houses down and nothing seemed out of place. It was the typical one story home with all the trimmings and a nice sized backyard. Chris was actually impressed. For a barista, she seemed to be doing well for herself.

  A few of the houses on the block had obviously been looted, yet Stephanie’s house had been left unscathed from the random acts of violence and thievery. It was most definitely a surprising turn of luck; something they all noticed with unspoken agreement. The house to their right also seemed to have been untouched by the chaos. Chris couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reason. He could only guess that the looters had either given up, taking only what they needed from the other houses or that something made them turn back before hitting the end of the street. The later of the two made sense, because her house was one of the last ones on the block.

  Stephanie killed the engine and started to get out. The door latch clicked, breaking the silence. “Wait, wait a second.” Chris reached up and pulled her back into the seat by the shoulder.

  “What?” She looked around in the night for possible threats, but saw nothing.

  “I don’t know if you noticed, but those things are attracted to sound,” he said.

  “Yeah, so? We just need to be extra quiet,” Steve said, picking up the bat from the floorboard.

  “No, you don’t get it. Any noise at all could attract attention for blocks. You guys saw what happened at the gas station. When we went in the store, the streets were mostly clear. It wasn’t until those stupid rednecks showed up that things got crowded.”

  “So, what? Note to self, don’t go shouting and shooting,” Stephanie said, as she started to get out again.

  “Look, that’s not what I’m saying at all here. I’m talking about the car,” Chris continued. Steve and Stephanie just looked back at him trying to understand the point. “I would just feel better about staying here tonight if nothing, not anyone, dead or alive knew that we were in there.” Chris pointed across the front seats at the dark house. “I just think it would be a smart idea to park the car somewhere else. The sound of the engine and your headlights could have already given us away.”

  Stephanie looked in her side mirrors, hoping that wasn’t the case. She didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there. “Well, how far are we talking then?”

  “I don’t know. Two blocks at best. If they really are attracted to sound, I say we give ‘em a show. Possibly draw them away from the house. Then, God willing, we sneak away unnoticed. Any attention we would be getting would be blocks away.”

  “Dude, that’s freaking brilliant. I knew I was keeping you around for something,” Ste
ve said.

  “I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell would feel better about things,” Chris smiled. “And no, you’ve been keeping me around because I’m the one who gets us shows, remember?”

  “This is true,” Steve agreed.

  “All right, then. Let’s get this show on the road. I’m driving!” Chris got out of the car. It wasn’t until he stood to his feet that he remembered his throbbing head. The pain shot from his knees and up his back, like a swift kick to the face, and he almost fell.

  “You all right?” Stephanie asked, while getting out of the car, the keys still in the ignition.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just stood up too fast,” he said while swapping places. “My head still hurts pretty bad.”

  Steve looked at Stephanie with a raised brow. “He had it coming.”

  She smirked.

  The engine cranked to life and its high beams lit up the house in front of them. Chris turned the car around, laid on the horn, and slowly cruised down the street. It took less than a minute for the zombies to start trickling out from behind houses, bushes, and backyards. The car’s light showed their grotesque and mutilated features, burning the images forever in the back of Chris’ mind.

  “What the hell are you waiting for, man. Let’s jet!” Steve shouted.

  Chris’ grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Just give it a second.”

  As soon as he said that, a zombie reached out and slapped the hood of the car. It was a female wearing a white nightgown now stained with dirt and ash. She snarled wide showing missing teeth. One eye had burst from its socket and was hanging limp at the cheek by rancid tissue. The other eye was missing. The nightgown had a bone jutting out the back and a trail of blood ran down her legs. As she pounded relentlessly to get inside the car, her fingers twisted and broke.

  Chris noticed her hands. He was amazed how relentless she was in her pursuit of fresh meat. Without the sense of pain, she would scratch at the metal until all her fingers broke off. It made him feel sick to the stomach again, but this time, he managed not to throw up.