“Who is it?”
He looked up at Miranda, the color draining from his face. “It’s Kumara.”
“Kumara?” Her eyebrows drew together. “The telemarketer?”
“This guy doesn’t give up!”
“Answer it.” Tyler shifted on the edge of the couch. “I gotta hear this.”
Swiping to the right, Finn answered the call and put it on speaker. “Hello?” No one replied, much like telemarketers often do at the beginning of a call. “Hello?” he tried in a louder voice, stiffening when a ghostly moan slithered across the line, rising and falling in pitch. A long, haunting sound that sent goosebumps rippling across his flesh. “Kumara?” he barely said, looking between Miranda and Tyler. “You okay, buddy?”
Miranda sharpened her gaze and the moaning grew louder, longer. Somebody screamed in the background and the call went dead. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Finn looked up from the screen. “That just got weird.”
“Jeezum crow, is everyone out there dead?” Tyler asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Oh shit,” Finn said, tapping at the screen. “I forgot to call my mom back last night.” After a few rings, his mom appeared on the screen, face still heavy with sleep.
“There’s my boy,” she said, sipping on some coffee. “You should call or text me back within five minutes, Finley, or else I start taking it personally. You know that.”
“Mom,” he panted into the phone. “Are you and Dad okay?”
Her eyebrows dipped. “Yes, why?”
“Listen to me, something happened.”
Her eyes got big. “Oh dear lord, Miranda’s pregnant! Isn’t she?”
“No, Mom, listen…”
“This is wonderful news! Roger,” she yelled out. “Miranda is pregnant!”
“Mom, Miranda’s not pregnant.”
Her face fell, the light vanishing from her eyes. “She’s not?”
He flipped the camera around and Miranda gave a halfhearted wave. “Hi,” she said, glancing at Tyler. “Not pregnant.”
“Where on earth are you?”
“We’re in a trailer in southern Iowa,” Finn told her, turning the camera back around. “Listen to me, zombies started rising from their graves in Des Moines and we had to leave the city last night. That’s why I couldn’t call you back.”
She stared blankly at him, mouth hanging wide open. “Excuse me?”
Finn’s Dad came up behind his mom, smiling from ear to ear. “Congratulations you two!” he said into the camera, face beaming with pride. “I am going to be such a great grandpa! You will not regret this.”
“Dad! Listen to me, Miranda isn’t…”
“She’s here! She’s here,” April’s voice cried out, followed by footsteps racing down the hallway.
Springing from the recliner, Finn pulled back a curtain and peeked out a nearby window, hope blooming in his chest when a cop car pulled in and parked next to the truck outside. “It’s Mac!” He looked down at his mom and dad frowning back on the phone in his hand. “I’ll call you back later!”
April swept past them and spilled outside, leaving the front door hanging wide open. Gasping for breath, Clark limped by as fast as his stilted legs would take him, the Remington clutched in both hands. “Bailey’s home!” he panted, hurrying through the living room.
Everyone followed him out into the morning sunshine breathing life into a lifeless world. It was already shaping up to be another hot one and not even nine in the morning yet.
“You made it!” Clark cried, galloping down the front steps and nearly falling flat on his face.
Mac pulled apart from her mother’s warm embrace, her police uniform tattered and soiled. “Daddy!” she cried out, running over and hugging him around the waist.
He rubbed her back with one hand, the shotgun wrapped in the other. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she sobbed into his chest, squeezing him tight.
“You should’ve called; we were worried sick.”
“I’m sorry.” She looked up at him, tears painting her cheeks. “I lost my phone and things got crazy.”
“What happened in town, Bailey?” April asked, toying with a silver cross hanging from her neck. “How is everyone?”
Drawing apart from her father, she cleared her tears, smearing blood and dirt across her face. “Gone.”
“Everyone? What about your coworkers? Or The National Guard?”
Mac pressed her lips into a thin, grim line. “When I left town, nearly everyone had either bugged out or…turned.”
“Turned?” Massaging the cross, April searched the group for understanding.
“Jason got bit while we were hiding out in an elementary school,” she reported, blowing a loose lock from her face. “Somewhere along the line, the janitor got bit and jumped out at us in the kitchen. It took Jason around five minutes to turn into one of those things and then I had to…”
“Oh, my word,” April whispered, clutching her chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I tried to save him…” Mac broke down and fell against her father’s chest, crying into his overalls. “But there was nothing I could do!”
“There, there, Care Bear. Everything is going to be okay,” he said, patting her back and trading a grim look with Finn. “You’re home now and that’s all that matters.”
A banging sound came from behind them. Spinning on their heels, Finn and Miranda drew their weapons on Mac’s squad car. “Is someone in your backseat?” Finn asked, squinting against the sunlight glaring off the glass.
Mac blazed past him and opened the backdoor. Reaching inside, she helped a handsome man with spiky hair and a black bomber jacket out of the vehicle. She shut the door and roughly spun him around to face everyone. “Mom, Dad, you remember Jake.”
Inhaling sharply, April covered her mouth. “Bailey MacMillan!”
“She’s crazy, April!” Jake said, hands clasped behind his back, face sewn with worry. “You have to help me.”
“What is going on here Bailey? I thought you two broke it off last month,” Clark barked, gesturing with the shotgun. “Why is he handcuffed?”
Taking his elbow, she ushered Jake over to the group. “He was going to hurt himself if I didn’t step in and help.”
“Bullshit!” Jake spit back, yanking free of her grip. “I wouldn’t come with her so she kidnapped me from my apartment!”
Mac drove an elbow into his side, pushing a winded grunt from his lungs. “You would’ve died if it wasn’t for me.”
Straightening up, he glared at her through teary eyes, words coming out in a choked whisper. “That’s bullshit.”
“He just needs some time to cool his jets and he’ll be fine.” Mac straightened the bloodstained duty belt wrapped around her waist. “In the meantime, he’s a danger to himself and others.”
Tyler traded awkward glances with Finn and Miranda, shifting in his unlaced boots. “So, hang on a second,” he started, stroking his red beard. “You two ain’t together no more?”
“We’re engaged,” Mac told him, staring up at Jake with a fond look softening her eyes.
“No, we’re not!” Jake snapped, dancing from foot to foot. “I’m already seeing somebody, Bailey. Get it through your thick head; you and I are done!”
“Jake,” she smiled, running a gloved finger down his cheek, “we had one bad night but that’s behind us now.”
“One bad night?” He furrowed his brow. “You slept with my brother!”
“Bailey,” April gasped.
“That’s not true, Mom,” she countered, taking Jake’s elbow again. “It was all just a misunderstanding but we cleared that up, didn’t we Jake?”
Jerking free of her grip, he glared defiantly at her. “Let me go,” he growled through his teeth. “And I mean right fucking now.”
“Jacob, if anything happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself but you’re safe now. Everything’s okay.” Sighing, Mac’s eyes moved across the land, soak
ing in the lush fields dancing with the wind. “We should get married here. It’s so beautiful.”
“Bailey,” April said, coming around and standing at her husband’s side. “You take those handcuffs off him this instant.”
Clark rapidly nodded. “Your mother’s right. This is no way to treat someone.”
Ignoring them, Mac turned to Finn and smiled. “I see you found the place okay.”
Arching an eyebrow at her, he cocked his head to one side.
She winked at Miranda. “I’m glad,” she said, craning her neck to see around them. “Who’s your friend?”
“This…is Tyler,” Miranda tentatively replied, glancing back at him.
Tyler tipped his cap to Mac. “Ma’am.”
She gave him a warm smile and held a hand out to Finn. “Can I get my ring back now?”
His eyes jumped between her and Jake, confusion tugging on his jaw with both hands. “I gave it to your dad.”
“Your ring is inside, sweetie,” Clark told her. “Now, take off the handcuffs.”
“Listen to your dad, Bailey! I have to pee,” Jake scowled. “How many times do I have to say it?”
Rolling her eyes, she ushered him over to the cop car and pulled him to a stop. She hesitated, glancing back at everyone with a heated glimmer burning in her eyes, and then unzipped his jeans. Wiggling around with his hands cuffed behind his back, Jake made a weird grunt when she pulled him out.
“Bailey,” April grumbled, trading a mortified look with Clark, who could only shake his head in exasperation.
The tension tightened in Finn’s face as he watched a thin stream appear between Jake’s legs, turning the gravel dark. “What the hell is going on here?” he whispered out the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know, man, but this is all kinds of weird.” Tyler pulled his cap down tighter against the wind. “Like some reverse 50 Shades of Grey shit right here.”
Miranda looped an arm through Finn’s. “He’s right,” she whispered, shivering despite the humidity. “Something’s not right.”
“Champ!” Clark yelled, making Tyler nearly jump out of his boots.
Everyone turned to the black lab sprinting through the soybeans off in the distance, a trail of dust blowing out behind him. Breaking through the green leaves and fertile soil, Champ bolted across the open yard and skidded to a stop at Clark’s feet. Panting, the lab’s tongue lolled out the corner of his mouth, tail excitedly dusting the gravel driveway.
“Where’ve you been, boy?” Clark asked, petting the dog’s shiny coat. Frowning, he pulled back and examined his palm, rubbing a dark sticky substance between his fingers.
“What’d he get into this time?” April asked, stepping closer for a better look.
“It looks like chocolate syrup or…some kind of motor oil,” he replied, bringing it to his nose and screwing his face up. “Smells like shit!” His eyes fell to the dog. “Are you okay, Champ? What happened to you, boy?”
“I think I know,” Finn said, gut sinking. “That’s zombie blood.”
“Zombie blood?” Clark furrowed his brow. “Well, where in tarnation did he…” The words died a quick death on his lips and the wind quickly swept them away. “Oh, dear Lord.”
Everyone followed his thin eyes out over the field, squinting against the rising sun. At first, Finn thought Clark was staring at a cluster of trees off in the distance. Then he realized the trees were slowly moving towards them. It wasn’t long before the wind carried a faint symphony of moans their direction and the smell was quick to follow. “Oh shit,” he whispered, resting a hand on the butt of his sidearm.
Mac zipped Jake up before hurriedly retrieving a black M16 from the cop car.
“We should get inside and hide,” Tyler panted, pulling his silver cannon from the small of his back and staring out over the field. “I got a bad feeling about this.”
“What is that?” April asked, using a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Deer?”
“Those aren’t deer,” Finn replied. “It’s the dead.”
“Oh my God,” she panted, backpedaling towards the trailer. “They’re here.”
“How far?” Mac asked, taking Jake’s arm.
Finn shook his head. “Maybe a mile.”
“Less,” Clark corrected, pumping the Remington.
Jake tried jerking free of Mac’s grip as she marched him to the trailer, his face red with anger and humiliation. “You unlock me right now or I will start screaming and draw them right to us.” His chest swelled beneath the bomber jacket. “I mean it, Bailey, I’ll fucking do it!”
Pulling the machinegun strap over her head, Mac stopped and stared at the distant horde shambling closer.
“Un-fucking-lock-me, you psycho…”
Gritting her teeth, she jabbed the buttstock into his stomach, doubling him over.
“Bailey MacMillan!” April cried, curling her hands into fists. “You stop hitting him right now!”
“Help me get him inside,” she said, grabbing his elbow. Faces strained with worry, April and Clark hesitated before rushing over and helping her drag Jake inside.
Finn turned back to the group of dead people steadily limping closer, the wind running its sticky fingers through his messy hair. “Hide or flight?” he wondered aloud, weighing options inside his mind.
“Maybe they’ll miss us,” Tyler replied, nervously stroking his beard.
“They’re heading right for us.” Miranda stopped between the two men, blond hair flying out wildly behind her. “I say we leave.”
Tyler blew out a slow breath. “If we leave, we could run into cannibals.”
Screwing his face up, Finn slowly turned to him. “Cannibals?”
“Yeah, they always block the road with a couple pickups parked nose to nose during the zompac. Don’t you watch TV?”
“This isn’t TV, where windows never have screens and people take aspirin without water. This is real life, and guess what, Tyler? In real life, people don’t just turn from good to bad in the blink of an eye like that.”
He grunted. “Yeah, this coming from the guy who thought I was Negan.”
Finn exhaled through his nose. “Look, people come together in a crisis and this is definitely a crisis, so don’t start thwarting our options with bullshit talk about cannibals.”
“I don’t know, man, you’re putting a lot of stock into the American public.”
“You’re goddamn right I am!”
Tyler wiped sweat from his brow. “I watch too much news for that shit.”
“All I know is, there’s something very weird going on with Mac.” Miranda looked between them. “And I don’t like it.”
“No doubt. Talk about beautiful crazy.” Tyler glanced back at the trailer. “You know what? You’re right, Miranda, I say we get the hell up out of here.”
“My shotgun is inside,” Finn dully replied.
Tyler blew out a long breath. “So’s my rifle and guitar,” he glumly admitted.
“What if she doesn’t let us leave?”
Finn looked over at his wife. “Who? Mac?”
“She’s obviously crazy!”
“No doubt.” Tyler nodded his head in full agreement. “She reminds me a lot of my ex-girlfriend.”
Finn and Miranda turned to face him.
“Well, outside of the good looks and super-hot body anyway,” he clarified. “Guys like me don’t get the hot ones, but trust me when I say, I know crazy when I see it. Crazy transcends all walks of life.”
A squeak rang out behind them, drawing their eyes to the trailer where Mac stood holding the screen door open with a foot. “You guys coming or what?” she asked, gripping Jason’s M16 in both hands.
Trading an uneasy look with the others, Finn cleared the smell of rot from his lungs and started walking. “Come on,” he said, making a rash decision that could cost them their lives.
Mac held the door open, staring out across the field as they filed inside. Gathering in the living room, they caut
iously peeked out the windows, holding their racing breath.
“Damn,” Tyler whispered, clutching his rifle. “I don’t know about this, man. Look how many are coming.”
“Clark?” Finn said, watching the dead trudge down the road and soybean field, staggering and stumbling.
“I’d say around a couple dozen,” Clark whispered, holding a curtain back. “At the rate they’re moving, we’ve got around five or six minutes until they sweep past us.”
Turning from the window, Finn took a quick head count, lips barely moving as his eyes bounced around the room. “There are seven of us, which means two cars.”
“If we’re going to leave, we have to move now.” Miranda looked away from the dead, the color fleeing her cheeks. “Why chance it? Let’s go.”
“I say we hunker down and quit talking,” Tyler suggested, glancing at the couch where Jake sat with his hands cuffed behind him.
“Yeah, that’s a good plan,” Jake grinned, shooting him a coy wink.
Mac raised the back of a hand to him and he flinched into the couch.
“Bailey,” April whispered, toweling off the dog. “Stop hitting him.”
“I’m not hitting him.”
The air-conditioner turned off and it got so quiet, they could hear the moans slipping in through the cracks in the aluminum. The hair went up on Finn’s arms and legs, spreading like a wildfire. The dead were so close now, he could tell which ones clawed their way out of their graves – their dress clothes muddy and torn – and which ones got caught in their path of destruction. One such broad-shouldered individual sported a thick mustache and a bloody Sheriff’s Department shirt, an empty holster jiggling around on his hip. He shambled closer, a bruiser of a man who’d spent his entire life in the gym, now reduced to hollow moans and chasing something he could smell on the wind. The older zombies brought up the rear of the ragged pack, dragging their skeletal limbs through the dirt, desperate to keep up with the others.
Looking away, Finn dug his cellphone from his jeans. “Turn off your ringers,” he said, ensuring his was still off.
Everyone silenced their ringers and looked up from their phones, eyes quietly meeting around the room.
“And tie your shoes.”
Tyler followed Finn’s gaze to his boots and startled. “Oh shit,” he whispered, hurriedly lacing them up.
First Zombie Page 9