George's Terms: A Zombie Novel (Z Is For Zombie Book 1)

by catt dahman

  Sally slid into her seat and gratefully downed a glass of spiked fruit punch. “I had the worst day.”

  “What’s up?”

  “John, the guy who was flash burned and blinded, died. I think he just gave up and didn’t want to live; he was bad off emotionally. Bart, the lawyer, his hand was so crushed; the wrist was shattered, and both were getting infected. I gave him local shots, and then we loaded him up. Doc removed the hand above the wrist, and Bart woke up a few times, crying out and fighting us. We had to get help to hold him down.”

  “How is he?”

  “Dunno. He needs blood, and we have no way to give it to him. I don’t know if he’ll make it because of that, but I think…maybe…he is beginning to respond a little to the antibiotics. Could be my wishful thinking, but he might be.”

  “And the girl with the smashed foot?”

  “Tina. Her whole foot is mangled. I don’t think emotionally she can survive our removing her foot. She’s sick, too, drank bad water. I tried to set the bones, you know, today; I removed the bad tissue, but she needs grafts. If she survives and the foot stays, it will be little more than a locked up stub…and painful at that.”

  “Will the liquor help?”

  “Ah, it helps very much.” She sipped more punch and smiled thinly.

  Len laughed. “I meant, will it help patients?”

  “It may, thanks.”

  Benny came over. “Rita is getting the hang of the radio, too; she’ll be able to spell me when needed.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Did you know Roy and his group are in the other hallway now?”

  “Yeah, Benny. I can’t say I like the division, but he’s good so far on supply teams. I don’t know what to think.”

  “Me either. That man Paul and his wife keep fighting; she doesn’t wanna be there, I guess.”

  They turned to the couple arguing who stood close by. It was escalating. Bryan walked over, “Everything okay?”

  “None of your business,” Paul snapped.

  “It is if you two are upsetting the children and everyone else by screaming.”

  “We’re working it out.”

  “We are not,” Donna yelled back, “I don’t like you deciding everything for me; I’m sick of it.”

  “Everyone here has a voice in the group,” Bryan stated.

  “Then my voice says I don’t want to be down that other hallway. I want to be with the rest,” Donna said.

  Roy shrugged, “Donna, it doesn’t matter; we all work together. Doesn’t matter where we sleep. We just aren’t part of the pseudo military.”

  “You have a gun, but we don’t. I get nervous,” Donna said. “I don’t like being ordered to sleep somewhere; I want to decide where I am and what I do in the group; and maybe I want to be in the military search and rescue.”

  “Hell no. You’re my wife, and you‘re not toting a gun and playing soldier.”

  “Just like that? I have a right to decide. I am not owned.” Dramatically, she jerked away from his hand.

  Julia, Alex, and Beth were watching, trading knowing glances.

  Bryan reached out, and Paul violently moved back. “Don’t touch me, you son of a bitch.”

  “Newcomers’ seeing this isn’t good,” Beth whispered.

  “Hey.” Len stood, and around the room, Hagan, Kim, Mark, and a few others began to stand.

  “Donna, I’m trying my best to take care of you; now come on, or I’m finished,” Paul said.

  “I’m staying. Please, Paul, stop fighting me on this.”

  “It’s her choice,” Bryan said.

  “Damn it.”

  Donna cringed behind Bryan.

  Johnny went to her feet, “Let’s all knock this shit off. Enough, personal shit needs to go behind doors, not out here, making people nervous.”

  “Damned right, Johnny,” Julia whispered.

  “Just let me go, Paul,” Donna whined, making Paul tense again and making Bryan react with an offensive posture.

  “Just get your stuff, Donna, and stop the scene; it’s over,” Beth called.

  She had seen too many women cause dramatic issues when they should have handled things, simply and easily. It looked as if Donna liked an audience and was pulling Bryan’s strings for attention. Donna glared at Beth and Johnny, confirming Beth’s opinion.

  “My, God, what are you doing, Donna? Are you fucking him yet?” Paul yelled at her.

  Roy chuckled.

  Bryan was in Paul’s face now. Len and several others walked over to keep Bryan from fighting. Hagan suggested that he cool off.

  “You have something to say about me?” Bryan demanded.

  Paul narrowed his eyes, “Just wondering if my wife were whoring.”

  “She isn’t with me.”

  “I find that hard to believe; she goes for smart ass dicks like you.”

  “Maybe she just misses a dick, period,” Bryan snapped.

  With a curse, Paul swung wildly; Bryan neatly grabbed his wrist, twisting him around so his arm was against his own back. He howled.

  Len shouted, and he and Hagan grabbed Bryan while Kim pushed Paul back towards Roy. Roy stroked his gun nervously but didn’t raise it.

  “This is over,” Len stated. “If you can’t work as a team, then get out.”

  Beth watched Donna watch them with spider-cold eyes.

  “You can have her,” Paul spat at Bryan. Cursing, Roy, Paul, and a few others moved towards their hallway but still close to the rest. Donna moved over to cry against Bryan; he patted her back absently watching the others.

  Paul wasn’t finished. He looked at Beth, “She’ll screw anything in pants; you’re losing your boyfriend.”

  “Funny. I don’t have a boyfriend,” Beth said as Julia laughed.

  “I think that’s enough,” George added.

  “Didn’t ask you, old man.”

  “They all stick together, don’t ya’ll? Queers, Spic chick, lesbo.” He pointed to Beth.

  “Hey,” Alex protested.

  Juan stood up. “Knock off racial remarks.”

  “I’m not a lesbian; you just said Bryan was my boyfriend; you just name-called like Roy…like some stupid parrot.” Beth fumed. She was angry with Donna for starting this drama-fest in front of everyone.

  “He can have you both then,” Paul muttered, “carry guns, all of you, like some bullies on a playground. Stealing men’s wives and shooting injured, sick people; what the hell is wrong with you?”

  Steve the man they saved the day before walked over by Paul, “We wanted to go help our friends on the ground floor.”

  “Your friends were zeds,” George told him.

  “Shot two more today, I heard,” Steve added. Paul shook his head in disgust.

  “Infected who asked to be saved from turning into one of those things,” Julia said to them.

  Conner looked at Pat and Richie who had walked over with Paul, “That how it is? These people save our lives, and you turn on them like this?”

  “Not turning on people, just picking my side. I don’t like the military shit,” Steve said.

  Paul and some others agreed.

  “Military shit saved our lives,” Jeff stated. He was echoed by Conner, Diane, Mike, Angie, and Earl.

  “Bitch,” Paul said to Beth, “couldn’t you keep your big mouth out of this?”

  “What did you call her?” Kim came over, face flushed with anger. Beth put her hand out and told him it was okay. She wasn’t sure why Paul was blaming her now.

  “I called her a fucking bitch,” Paul screamed, moving right up into Beth’s face, she tripped backwards, barely catching herself.

  Kim swung, cold-cocking Paul on the side of his jaw. Paul snapped around and hit Kim, who dodged and landed a blow to Paul’s stomach.

  Len and Hagan came flying across the room with Mark and Julia right behind them.

  Hagan grabbed Paul, Mark grabbed Roy who was going in to fight, Len grabbed Kim, and Julia and Johnny stepped
close to Steve. Len yelled, “Okay, everyone, knock it the fuck off. Now.”

  Both sides stepped back.

  “We’ll police our own area and come over to help with meals and to eat,” Roy stated. “We’re done with supply runs until this blows over. There’s too much bad blood now.”

  “Then you better hope you don’t need anything but food and water. If you don’t help, you don’t get the profits,” Len said.

  “Fine. We don’t need you,” Paul spat.

  “You get attacked; don’t look for my help,” Len added, “show’s over.”

  Roy took his people and left the cafeteria, going to the far lobby and hallways; he looked unsure if he were glad this had happened. Len told Kim and Bryan to cool off.

  “We had ‘em.” Julia grinned.

  Kim looked at Beth. He was normally very dependable, calm, sure of himself, but he was still angry now, and Beth wasn’t sure he looked fully stable with fury in his eyes. “Oh, it’s okay for now, but it’s a matter of time before I kill that bastard.” He walked away, leaving Beth stunned.

  “Holy shit,” Julia said. Alex hugged her.

  “I think he’s a bit pissed off.”

  “It isn’t normally like this,” Alex told the three newcomers. They chuckled.

  Earl whistled, “Beats television, huh?”

  “They’re assholes,” Angie declared.

  Len motioned everyone to continue on as if the argument hadn’t happened. He noted that Rae had been stroking the trigger on her gun the whole time as she watched Roy and his crew with cold eyes.

  He really needed to hear her story now.

  24

  Victims

  Deanna watched the bomb hit, fear gripping her. She had used all of her energy caring for the sick family, finally burying Karen and Nelwyn in the garden as best she could. In her short life, she had seen hell in the prostitution and porn business, only being freed when she was fourteen.

  How many times had she wished Ed would have taken her home so she could have been in his family? But, now, he was dead of a gunshot. She had tried to honor how good he had been to her, treating her like a human and not a sex toy for hire, by going to her family and helping them. His kind eyes and smile had changed her life.

  She had nursed Karen and daughter, Nelwyn, who was Deanna’s age. Emptying bedpans and vomit bowls, changing sheets and washing them, and cleaning blood from faces had all been part of her new job. During all that, she also had taken care of Karen and Ed’s youngest child. She had read the Bible to Polly.

  Nelwyn had gone into a Red coma first, and then Karen had slipped away. Deanna had cracked each in the head before they could come back as monsters, crying as she had done it.

  Worrying about the state of things, Deanna filled jugs with water and left the home to shop or scrounge for food. When the earth shook and things fell, Deanna put everyone in the bedroom, then had begun pulling supplies to them in a basket, dumping load after load, carrying everything at a dead run. She put the family cat, Mr. Doody, inside the bedroom with Polly. Her muscles screamed, but she continued making trips with the supplies. Luckily, she moved most before the bomb hit.

  A mattress from another room was put over the window, and Deanna had moved the dresser and more furniture over to block it. She closed the door, and never had she been so exhausted before.

  “What is that?” Polly asked.

  “I guess a bomb of some kind.”

  “That’s bad.”

  “Yes, it is, but we’re safe here. I don’t know about this stuff, but I think we have to hide in here for a little while until the poison from the bomb goes away in the rain. I think that’s how it works, like in Japan.”

  “It’s poison?”

  “Yes, it causes cancer, I think.”

  Polly hugged her stuffed bear, “My Granny died of that.”

  “We won’t die, but we have to stay inside a while.”

  “Mr. Doody and I don’t like dark.”

  “Well, we have to stand it ‘cause we can’t open up the window and we don’t have that many candles. We’ll figure it out as we go.” She slid to the floor to rest, “We’re okay; just let me rest a bit, and then we can get organized if I can ever move again.”

  They slept a lot; Deanna slipped a part of a sleeping pill into Polly’s drinks so she would sleep instead of crying for her mother and sister. Deanna cried when she had a few minutes alone.

  The bucket for waste smelled bad.

  One morning, when Deanna had awakened, stretching her arms and legs and then going cold, she found that was alone with Mr. Doody; Polly wasn’t there, but she never had gotten up alone before. So Deanna did a quick search and found that her charge had left the rooms.

  Deanna searched all the rooms downstairs, and then ran upstairs to look under beds and in cabinets. Nothing. With dread, she went to the back door, opened it, and found Polly sitting on her swing.

  Back and forth, she went in the dirty grey rain and cold. Trees were shriveled, some lying on the ground. The grass was brown. Around them, a few houses were partially rubble, but the damage was less than Deanna had feared. “Hey. How long have you been out here?”

  Polly shrugged. “Don’t be mad. I had to see.”

  “But how long?”

  “Dunno. The trees look ugly.”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “People look ugly, too.”

  “What people?” Deanna felt scared again.

  Polly shrugged again, “Monster people were bloodied and going, ‘Grrr’ like that. I hid from them, and they went away.” She looked at Deanna finally and said, “One man chased a nekid woman.”

  “That’s horrible. You shouldn’t be out here.”

  “I know, but I had to see.”

  “Those people are like the ones on TV. They are all crazy; they will try to take our food; they will try to take you away and eat Mr. Doody.”

  Polly’s eyes filled with tears, “Nooooo.”

  “Then you do not come out here at all.” She stood, and the two headed back into the house. At the door, she paused while sending Polly inside.

  Suddenly a huge weight knocked her to the dirty ground; a hand slammed over her mouth. Fear for herself and Polly filled her as she hit at the hand, fighting like a pissed-off cat.

  “Shut up, and don’t scream, or you’ll alert the zeds,” a voice whispered. “If I move my hand, will you stay quiet?”

  She nodded and sat up.

  He looked like the most popular boy in tenth grade, handsome and smart, witty and charismatic. A jock. He was the one all the girls would swoon over. Deanna hated him at first glance.

  They heard moaning.

  “Let’s get inside.”

  “You’re not coming with us,” she whispered angrily.

  “Yes I am. I am exhausted, and I don’t wanna be their next meal.”

  Deanna could have killed him. “Then go to another house and hide.”

  “It’s only until I can rest a little bit. Then I’ll gladly go,” he snapped.

  “You promise?”

  “Yes,” he said, as the moaning got closer. She motioned him to follow her as they ran inside, locking the door. Then, once into the big bedroom suite, she locked that door. Polly stared with big eyes.

  “He’s just here until the monster people go away.” She glared at him, “If they find us, it’s your fault, asshole.”

  “Bad-word jar, Nanna. You owe a dollar.”

  “She’s the one who was out there swinging; it would be her fault,” the boy said. “You’re Nanna?”

  “Deanna. That’s Polly.”

  “I’m Josh.” He sat. “Thanks for letting me in. It’s bad out there.”

  “Like what?”

  He told them, skimming over parts, spelling some words, or just looking at Deanna so she understood and Polly didn’t.

  Polly went to play, and Josh was able to speak. He had watched his family ill with Red, then comas. They vanished one day, leaving bloody footprints a
nd nothing else. In his search for them, he was chased by zeds. From then on, he hid and ran a lot from the creatures but never saw his parents and brother again.

  “Why are you alone?”

  “Well, our father, Ed, was killed a while back. He was a policeman, and a teenaged hooker caused him to get shot and killed ‘cause she distracted him while he was doing his job,” she said, remembering. It was her story, and she could make it up anyway she pleased. “Mom, Karen, died, and so did our sister, Nelwyn. I buried them.”

  “How did they die?”

  “Red.”

  “Did they,” he shrugged, “umm…turn?”

  “No.” That part was true anyway.

  “They all turned,” he said.

  “They didn’t turn.”

  “Sorry. I may be paranoid, but I feel as if they’re all after me, those outside. I’ve been running for hours.”

  Deanna wasn’t sure what the word ‘paranoid’ meant, but she nodded anyway. She hated his good education, too. “Just go, soon.”

  “Most people would want to find others.”

  “I’m not most people. I’m fine alone with Polly.”

  When Polly awoke from a nap, later, she was feverish. She showed Deanna the blisters in her mouth. Deanna looked to Josh.

  “I don’t know; she should be okay unless she drank the rain water; it has some radiation.”

  Polly smacked her lips, “It was yummy water in the bird bath. When I used to lap it like a puppy, mommy always laughed.”

  “Oh, my God, Polly, did you lap water from the bird bath?”

  “Yes.” She pouted.

  In a bit, the little girl was racked with stomach cramps that caused diarrhea and vomiting. Deanna stopped asking Josh to leave and sat with Polly, praying, and cleaning her.

  While Polly slept, they traded life stories, and Deanna made things up she had seen on television about how she had been a cheerleader and had been in a contest with mean cheerleaders who cheated in the competition. How she had given her friends makeovers so they could win the most popular boys in school, and about her best friends, Rosalie, Emmitt, Alice, and about the truck Deanna owned. How her school had banned dancing, but had won it back by Deanna and friends fighting the school board. She wove deep webs of fantasy, and Josh listened, asking what Edward thought of such and such and how did Jake react, and he laughed at Bella’s antics as Deanna wove tales.