The Zombie Awakening (Complete 6 Volume Series, plus prologue)

by Melton, Cynthia

  Chalice ushered the distraught husband into the cab and went to perch on top of the supplies in the back. Eric bent and scooped car keys from the dirt. He and Rachel would drive the doctor’s truck.

  Colton scooped up the dead woman and carried her into the house. He couldn’t let her lie outside for the animals. He laid her on a bed now stripped of all its blankets. He smoothed back her blood covered hair. “Rest in peace, lovely woman.” He backed from the room and raced for the truck.

  The only sound on the ride back to the farm was broken only by Mr. Hooper’s sobs. Colton shed his own silent tears. He could imagine the man’s pain. He’d be the same if something happened to Chalice.

  Gunshots rang out from the west. Mr. Hooper didn’t look. Colton wanted to get as far away from the noise as possible. Hadn’t the fools figured out by now that noise attracted the freaks? There were other quieter ways to kill them.

  Chalice banged on the truck roof. “Lost some blankets. Hold up.”

  He stopped the truck and she jumped to the ground to race about twenty feet back. She gathered the blankets in a wad and rushed back toward the truck.

  Down the road and coming fast were two sprinters. Colton must have voiced his alarm because Mr. Hooper grabbed the spear and stepped out of the truck. He faced the coming threat like a veteran.

  Buster burst from the trees, another sprinter chasing behind.

  4

  Chalice dropped the blankets and ran for her life. Those things were fast. What happened to the good old days of zombie’s that only shuffled and moaned? She’d hated them, but detested the new growling menace.

  Reaching the truck, she grabbed her sword from its sheath and turned as the first sprinter knocked her to the ground. A pressure on her leg alerted her to the fact another one thought he’d found a tasty drumstick. She shoved the sword between the eyes of the one lying on top of her as Mr. Hooper bashed in the head of the one clamped to her leg.

  She struggled to her feet to see Colton pinned against the truck’s fender, fighting off a non-breather. The veins in Colton’s neck swelled with the strain. Chalice rushed to his defense as Buster latched onto the creature’s neck. Before the beast could sink its teeth into the dog’s ear, Chalice removed its head with one swipe of her katana. Rank blood splattered her, Colton, and the dog. Bile rose in her throat.

  She shoved aside her distaste as she and Colton rushed to help Mr. Hooper dispose of the last two. The old man bashed in one’s head and continued to hit until nothing but an indistinguishable mess remained on the ground.

  “That made me feel a little better.” He turned and did a home run hit on a newly arrived shuffler, caving in its skull. “This one is for you Lucy.”

  A truck appeared over the hill. Rachel and Eric to the rescue. Rachel stuck her head out the window. “When you didn’t appear behind us, we came back. Looks like we weren’t needed.”

  “You were needed.” Chalice wiped her sword blade on a handful of grass and leaves. The fact they’d come back to help and not driven off with the precious supplies, proved they could be trusted. “Let’s get home before more of those things make their appearance.” She retrieved the blankets. No way was she leaving them behind after all the trouble they’d caused, but she would never sleep under one of them.

  She climbed back on top of a crate of bottled water and settled back for the ride home. Off in the distance, a plume of smoke rose above the trees. “Where is that?”

  Mr. Hooper hung out the window. “Looks like the town. That’s a shame. Might have had some things left we could use.”

  A shame was right. The next time they had to make a run, they’d have to hit a larger city. Those were often suicide runs, and although they’d grabbed lots of medicines and food, the Hoopers hadn’t had anything for growing children.

  Chalice put her arm around Buster’s neck. Her hand came away sticky. “He’s bit. Buster’s bit.” She banged on the top of the cab and prayed dogs were immune to the virus from hell.

  “We’ll quarantine him for a few days,” Colton shouted back. “But, I’m pretty sure he’ll be all right. He’s been scratched before.”

  He was right. She scratched behind the dog’s ears. With all the wild game and livestock, animals seemed to be immune to the virus. She examined the dog’s wound. It appeared more like a cut than a bite as she’d first suspected. Zombies didn’t cut. She grinned and sat back, her arm around the dog, and waited to get home.

  Occasionally, Buster would stiffen and growl, staring toward the trees. Chalice kept her sword close at hand. As long as there weren’t any sprinters, the shufflers would leave them alone. None of them could keep up with moving vehicles.

  They pulled into the meadow the farm sat on. Several of the undead hung from the spikes through the fence like moving pieces of meat for some macabre fondue pot. Why were they showing up regularly now? For months, there’d been no sightings around the fence, now there were one or two every hour.

  Could the undead hone in on some sort of signal from the living? Were they traveling across the country searching for the group of survivors on the Colman land?

  Chalice shook her head. That would be impossible. Surely, they weren’t the only survivors on the continent. There had to be others holed up in safe places. People that could someday turn the world right side up. She wouldn’t give up hope.

  Mychal opened the gate and let the two trucks roll through. “It looks like y’all saw some action.”

  “Yep. Lost the doctor’s wife.” Chalice leaped from the truck. “We also ran across more of the new breed. They’re faster and stronger. What happened here?”

  He shrugged. “Just shufflers too stupid to stop before impaling themselves. One of the children are sick.”

  “No.” Her heart stopped, her blood draining to her feet.

  “The Wilson’s baby. Kendra quarantined the whole family in the storm cellar.”

  The new illness couldn’t have reached them. She glared at the backs of Rachel and Eric. If they’d brought a new horror with them, she’d kill them herself, trustworthy or not.

  *

  Maybe the doctor could help the Wilson baby boy. Mychal was tired of people dying. He wanted things back to normal with pretty girls, Playstation 3, and cell phones. His shoulders sagged as he resumed his lookout post. Things would never be that way again. Probably not in his lifetime anyway.

  The others emptied the trucks. Colton tended to a wound on his dog’s shoulder, saying it was a cut of some kind and most likely not from one of the freaks. Mychal grinned. In another couple of weeks they’d have a litter of puppies. Of course, there wasn’t anyone around to sell them, too. Maybe when they were old enough, they could take the puppies into the city and find some survivors to barter with.

  Stupid idea. Most people out there, if there were any people left, would probably want the dogs for food instead of pets. Civilization tended to break down when chaos reigned. He’d seen the movies, read the books, studied the subject in school. Human nature was human nature. Most people were good, but there were ones out there that made the non-breathers look cuddly.

  A shuffler moved along the edge of the meadow. Once in a while the woman would sniff the air like a dog. Mychal copied. With water rationing, baths were few and far between unless you were rank from a battle. Applied deodorant needed to last two days. Were they seeing more zombies because they smelled bad? The larger their group became, the stronger the smell, right? Something was drawing the undead to the living. Something other than aimless wandering until they wandered across a breathing person by chance.

  He aimed his rifle, wanting to pull the trigger, wanting to blow off the head of every undead he saw, but he couldn’t. Not without attracting anything with ears for miles around.

  Life had gotten so unfair.

  “Here’s some water.” Alyssah handed him one of those old fashioned tin dippers people used in wells.

  “Thanks.” He gulped it down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand
.

  “Do you ever get used to the smell?” she asked.

  “Of those things?” He shook his head. “How does anyone get used to the smell of death?”

  “I want to learn how to fight.”

  “Really? My sister and Colton would never allow it.”

  “We won’t tell them. You and Eddy can teach us older kids how to fight with the spears and knives. I won’t always be safely in a car or a house, stabbing zombies in the eye while I’m safe behind glass.”

  She was right. Everyone ten and over needed to know how to defend themselves. If the kids didn’t grow to adulthood, the human race would die out. Earth would be populated by the undead until they, too, disintegrated into nothing.

  “Gather up the ones who are interested,” he said. “We’ll meet behind the barn after evening chores.”

  *

  Colton didn’t know much about babies, but it seemed as if the Wilson baby just had the sniffles. Still, it didn’t hurt to quarantine the family. When Bill had led the group here, Colton had thought they’d finally found a place where they could be safe from the undead and the living who wanted what they had. One of the two had found them, and from the continuing plume of smoke coming from town, he feared the second wasn’t far behind.

  “What’s wrong?” Chalice wrapped her arms around his waist and peered into his face.

  “I’m worried about the smoke.”

  “Do you want to chance a run into town tomorrow? We could keep on the outskirts.”

  “Maybe. How’s the doctor?”

  “Immersing himself in checking everyone over. I think he’ll be okay.” She leaned her cheek against his chest.

  Love battled with worry as he wrapped his arms around her. Nineteen years old and he felt responsible for a group of people. What if he failed in the task set before him?

  Mychal passed and disappeared around the corner of the barn. Then Eddy, followed by his sisters, and several of the other children. Colton wouldn’t have thought anything suspicious of one or two heading into the shadows, but every child over the age of five?

  “Something’s up with the kids.” He set Chalice back. “Can you watch the fence?”

  “Absolutely. Yell if you need me.”

  Colton jogged to the opposite side of the barn and slipped through the door. If the kids were up to no good, the small window at the back of the tack room should afford Colton the privacy to spy undetected.

  “Not like that, Caleb.” Mychal’s voice drifted through the open window. “Balance your weight like this and lunge. The spear has to go through the head if you want to kill it.”

  Colton peered through the window. The children were lined up, sticks in their hands, practicing at ramming the stick through a bag filled with hay. Why did Mychal think it important enough to teach the younger ones to fight? Except for Mychal and Eddy, none of the others were strong enough to take on a full grown sprinter. Even a shuffler intent on feeding would be too much for them.

  If the little ones started carrying weapons, they’d need armor. Colton sighed and stepped from the barn. “What’s going on?”

  Multiple pairs of eyes turned in his direction. “I’m teaching them simple fighting skills.” Mychal squared his shoulders.

  “You really expect them to have to use these skills?”

  “Some of them have thrust knives out windows before. It’s a different world now.” Mychal waved his arm. “They need to be able to defend themselves to the best of their ability. I’m not saying they need to go on supply runs, but maybe there wouldn’t be so few children left if they could have thrust a sharp object into the brain of the zombie that tried to bite them.”

  “You’re right. Next run, I’ll look for weapons that can be handled by kids. In the meantime, I’ll see if someone can’t make some wooden spears.” He turned and headed to the back observation area where Bill smoked a cigarette.

  “Learning to fight, are they?” He blew a plume of smoke.

  “Yeah.” Colton leaned against the fence. Through the slit in the wood he could make out several shufflers pacing the perimeter of the trees. “It won’t hurt anything. Might even make them less afraid. It’s the living I worry about more.”

  “Those kids are a valuable commodity,” Bill said. “Not very many folks still living will want to hurt them. Without kids, the human race is a goner. Young’uns are as good as gold used to be.”

  Colton glanced over his shoulder. The children almost numbered the adults. If that was the case, their little commune was rich indeed. Only problem was…they’d soon outgrow the protected area behind the fence. And with the sprinters now in existence, expanding the fence was a difficulty they probably shouldn’t try.

  They needed a new place. One where their numbers could multiply.

  5

  Chalice glanced around the group headed into town to check out the source of the fire that doesn’t seem to burn out. Her, Colton, Mychal, Eddy, Rachel and Eric. Their usual group of six which left the older ones behind to protect the home place.

  The Wilson baby’s sniffles stopped the night before confirming the doctor’s words that it was a typical infant thing. So far, even with the arrival of Rachel and Eric, the group had been spared the new strain of flu. As an added precaution, those going on the run would be wearing gas masks. A wonderful addition to their arsenal, again thanks were due the doctor. The grieving man had stock piled most everything a survivalist would need, including much needed ammunition.

  Chalice checked her ammo pouch and gun holster. She still preferred her sword while fighting, but guns were a necessity, too. She added a long bladed knife to her arsenal as the others loaded themselves down with weapons.

  Mom placed a box of water and granola bars into the back of the van. “Be careful, Chalice. Look out for your brother.”

  “I will.” She ducked her head so she wouldn’t have to see the tears welling in her mother’s eyes. If Mom started to cry, Chalice would join her and she didn’t want to start the day with red eyes and a headache. “Mychal’s a good fighter. We’ll look out for each other.”

  Mom came to Chalice’s side and wrapped her arms around her. “I worry every time the two of you leave here.”

  “It’s necessary.” Chalice laid her head on Mom’s shoulder. Was it only a year ago she’d thought her mother dead and lost to them forever? Now, here she stood, scarred and strong, carrying a lot of the weight of running the farm along with its owner, Lana.

  Chalice pulled away, patted Mom’s cheek, then climbed into the back of the van. Weeks before, Bill had cut five inch by five inch holes along the van’s sides. Once a utility truck, it had been gutted and now made a perfect vehicle for runs that would last more than a day.

  The others followed suit with Eric driving and Rachel in the passenger seat. The others lined the van walls like soldiers going to war. Chalice shook her head. That’s exactly what they were doing. Donned in black leather and gas masks with weapons hanging from their belts, they were soldiers. They didn’t fight the living, but the dead. She’d never get used to that way of thinking.

  The van rolled out the gate and Mom closed it behind them. Chalice kept her gaze glued on the fence until they’d traveled too far into the forest for her to see. She switched her glance to those around her. Would this be the last run for one of her loved ones? They took the chance every time they stepped out from the safety of their refuge.

  Making runs were a necessary evil. Especially this one. They weren’t headed out for supplies, but to decipher whether another evil was encroaching upon them. If so, they’d have to do what they could to prevent it from finding its way to the farm.

  “We need to keep our eyes open for a better place to live,” Colton said. “One that can be fortified better than where we are. It’ll be hard. We need iron gates, lots of buildings, and a place to grow a garden and raise livestock.”

  “Hopefully a place not overrun with freaks,” Mychal said. “We didn’t bring enough people to clean out a pl
ace the size you’re talking about.”

  “What about a mall?” Eddy leaned forward. “There’re plenty of stores for living space.”

  “I like that idea.” Chalice shifted so the barrel of her pistol didn’t poke her in the ribcage. “Plenty of kitchen with food courts. If we broke up concrete and boarded up some of the entrances, we could plant a garden.”

  “There isn’t a mall in the town we’re headed to today,” Eric called back. “But there is one about twenty miles farther on. If all goes well, we could head there tomorrow.”

  “What about a gated community?” Rachel turned to face those in the back. “If the development has a six-foot block fence around three sides and iron bars at the entrance, we could fortify the fence with coiled barbed wire from a prison.”

  “I like that idea the best.” Chalice stared at the floor under her feet. The vibration of the engine tingled up her legs. Privacy of individual homes would be nice, but there was always the risk of someone not following the rules that way. If humans were to survive this new world, there needed to be a set of rules in place.

  “I know just the place.” Eric turned off the mountain road onto the asphalt. “There’s a small military outpost about a half a day’s ride. Barbed fencing all around and plenty of buildings.”

  “I like the mall idea the best,” Colton said. “If it hasn’t been cleaned out, there would be enough daily supplies to benefit growing children.”

  Maybe they needed to take a vote. Chalice glanced through one of the slits in the van wall.

  Shufflers paced the side of the road. They’d stop and sniff the air as the van passed, then go back to their mindless wandering. Chalice didn’t care where they decided to put down roots. She wanted a place to call home. A place they wouldn’t outgrow for a while.

  *

  Smoke filled the air by the time they reached the outskirts of a small town named Holly Point. The place looked like an apocalyptic town after a nuclear strike. Colton tightened his grip on his spear. A few undead, burned to the point where it was hard to tell if they were once male or female, shuffled between the shells of buildings. There would be nothing left here for the living.