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

by catt dahman

  “Well, hello there,” one drawled, “I knew that trail led somewhere interesting.” They had come from the direction of the lobbies and where the team had met the raiders.

  “Where did you come from?”

  “My mama’s womb, originally, but lately, we followed a blood trail from out there. Someone hurt my buddies; shot them and threw them to the zombies.”

  “You’re with them?”

  “Not now, seeing as they’re dead,” he said it like, Day-id, “I’m Frank.”

  “They did it…killed your friends.” Paul pointed.

  “Did they? The ones all of you are kicking the shit out of?”

  “It was a cheap attack,” Bryan said, “using boards and pipes, not wanting to fight like a man fist to fist, cowardly fuckers.”

  “We came over here and split off of that group, so we aren’t with the military,” Paul said, wiping his bloody nose.

  “That so?”

  Roy nodded, “That’s true. We broke away from them.” He didn’t like this at all, but it was done. The situation had gotten way out of hand after some insults, and his crew had used weapons and not fought fairly, but it was much too late for regrets.

  “’Cause they’re chicken shits,” Mike bellowed back, despite his mother’s warning looks.

  “Well, I ain’t,” Frank fired at the boy hitting the floor. Mike, inexperienced, went for his gun, and Frank dropped him with a shot to the chest. The other two men with him, Hank and Dave, had guns on the rest. If they moved, they would be shot. Diane screamed, throwing herself over her son.

  “Not Mike, no,” she wailed hysterically.

  Beth and Maryanne stood at the doorway. Hagan was behind them.

  “You bastard.” Diane flew at Frank, and he stepped to the side, shooting her in the face, taking her beauty. Several cried out. Even Roy blanched, regrets almost smothering him.

  Dave jerked Julia to her feet with his gun at her head. “She one of them?”

  She didn’t curse for once, but stood, dark eyes full of fear and dread.

  “Yes,” Paul said. “All those wearing army clothes.” Steve and Bridget, Wanda the schoolteacher, Chad and Roy, and Richie and Danny stood together now. Roy moved closer to them. Unfortunately, he was in this crew. If he could do it again…

  Richie threw the board at Bryan, and his gun went sliding away, “Sneaky son of a bitch,” he sneered. “Don’t try anything, smart-assed.”

  “Good aim.” Frank laughed. “You ain’t so smart, are ya?” he asked Bryan.

  “Guess not.” Bryan waited to be shot, locking eyes with Len; when Bryan was shot, Len needed to act and use the distraction.

  “Come here,” Frank ordered Beth.

  “No.”

  Dave ground the barrel of the gun into Julia’s temple. “Do you think we’re joking, bitch?”

  “No.” Beth stepped closer to them. It was like being right back with the original raiders only this time, Kim, Johnny, and Big Bill weren’t hiding, waiting to take them out. “Your friends shot first and took hostages. They tortured our friend.”

  “I don’t care,” Frank said. “You care, Hank?”

  “Naw.”

  “Hank don’t care.” Frank waved the gun around, pointing at each person he saw.

  “There’s no need for this; we can work together like Roy did with us,” Len tried.

  “You, Roy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You in charge of this group here that ain’t military?”

  “I guess so.” He shrugged.

  “They’re trying to run things?”

  “Yeah,” Steve said. He didn’t like the killing, but he thought it best to be on the winning side now. The sight of Mike bleeding out and Diane’s face a mess of skull shards, broken teeth, and bloody skin made him sick. They had survived together. But he was scared for himself and Pat. The others had beaten them pretty badly, despite not using weapons. He felt three loose teeth and a broken nose, lips shredded, and a broken rib.

  “He, her boyfriend?” Frank asked Steve about Beth and Kim.

  “Don’t know, they all chase each other.”

  “What’s your name?” he asked her.

  “Beth.”

  “And who is that?”

  “Julia.”

  “Okay, Beth, you wanna behave so Julia and your boyfriend don’t get shot, m-kay?” Frank was deadly; he had done a dime and a nickel for killing. Had the world not offered this beautiful chance to raise hell and for him to enjoy himself, he would have eventually been charged with the beating death of his girlfriend, a meth whore, when the police finally found her remains in a garbage dump.

  “Sure,” she said, “I can behave.”

  “You ever want a real man, Beth?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Frank laughed. “I bet you do. You like things dangerous and dirty?”

  “I don’t know. Never tried that.” Beth shivered.

  “Maybe we should try it; you’d love it. I’d give it to you like a real man.”

  “I bet so,” she said, “I do know I’d be more fun if you didn’t kill all my friends.”

  “Come over here, and get on your knees.”

  Walking closer, Beth dropped to her knees. Her legs were so weak it was easy. She could feel her friends worrying, but her fear was fading as she accepted what was going to happen. In this new world, men wanted to rape her and her girlfriends, and they wanted to torture and kill the others. She hated that they were watching her humiliation.

  “Beg me not to kill your boyfriend.”

  “Please, don’t kill Kimball.”

  “Say, ‘please Frank’.”

  “Please, Frank, don’t kill Kimball.” Despite herself, tears rolled down her cheeks. She wasn’t sad, but angry. Furious. If he did as she thought he would, she would die, but she would die only after biting his dick off.

  Frank teased, pointing his gun at Kim.

  A gunshot exploded beside Frank’s head.

  Kim rolled as Bryan flopped down to fire. It was unexpected, but they took advantage. They both moved for cover. Dave’s head popped open, spraying fine mist all over Julia as she dove to the ground. “Gotcha,” Bryan yelled.

  Hagan fired, catching Danny as he skittered to safety, and the man’s arm was blown in half. He missed Steve and Paul as they zigged and zagged to their own cover. Len shot at Frank, missing as Mark crawled over and tackled Beth to the ground, his body covering her.

  Chauncey fell back as Hank fired at them, using Frank’s gunshots to try to get the upper hand again. Moaning, Chauncey clutched at his stomach, his face showing confusion, as Johnny fell across him, trying to stop the blood flow. He was hit right above his waistband.

  Bryan and Kim both shot a man who was with Roy, one of the quiet ones who had not gotten to safety, two bullets spinning him around, dead. Len aimed at Hank, taking him down with a shot to the chest. He added a few more hits, angry with them all.

  The rest were gone, vanished into the hallway and through the lobby where they had fought zeds. Some must be hurt because they left blood spots.

  “Dios,” whispered Julia.

  “What’s happening now?” Maryanne cried, dropping the pistol she had grabbed from the floor. It was Bryan’s and was the one he dropped when he had been hit with the board.

  “Hang on. We’re checking,” Hagan said, taking the gun and putting his arm around Maryanne.

  Sally and Doc came running in as the others gathered to watch.

  Kim had bruises on his arm and ribs but was okay, as was Bryan who, Sally said, had a concussion. Johnny had deep bruises all over and maybe a hairline fracture of her arm. Julia and Beth sat, hugging each other for a minute. Misty fell into Mark’s arms, but he winced, bruised, and beaten. Doc sadly shook his head as he checked Chauncey; he had bled out, and Johnny had not been able to save him.

  Mike and his mother, Diane, were both dead. Angie, whom they had spent time with in the bar and had rescued, caught a bullet from a ri
cochet. Doc and Sally got her to the medical bay, but the bullet was in her head, and they weren’t equipped for that kind of injury. They had three dead and one critical; the enemy had three dead and an unknown amount injured.

  “Who shot?” Len asked, as they began to move the bodies.

  “Hagan?”

  “It wasn’t me,” he said. “I wish I could have, but they were watching me.”

  “It was from your direction,” Bryan said, “who was it then?” He stopped working, puzzled.

  “Maryanne,” Beth whispered.

  Len dropped Dave’s feet as he spun. “What? No f-ing way.”

  “I just shot. Did I do right?” Maryanne asked, crying.

  “You saved us.”

  “Not some though,” she said.

  Julia hugged her, “Maryanne, Hon, many more would have died? You did great.”

  “How…how did…” Len looked to the rest.

  “He means how did you do that?” Kim asked.

  Maryanne sniffed, holding on to Hagan tightly. “I just could see in my head where to shoot. If I didn’t, I saw Kim dying, too, and Mark and Beth, and Julia, Johnny, and Bryan. I saw you all dying.”

  “You are amazing,” Bryan told her. How had a blind woman fired at just the right time and with accuracy?

  Exhausted mentally, she leaned into Hagan and fainted. He scooped her into his arms and said he was headed to Doc and Sally with her. He didn’t want to leave her side, despite Sally and Doc telling him to go.

  “She’s magic,” Hagan said quietly.

  “Well, let me take care of her now,” Sally demanded, “Go.”

  He went back to where the bodies were. The raiders they threw out in the pharmacy with the other corpses. Their three friends went down to the morgue. People pitched in and sealed off the hallway so that they couldn’t be reached through any of the other lobbies. The pharmacy doors were now the only way in and out.

  Kim pulled Beth aside and sat with her, “Are you alright? God, you keep getting threatened, and I can’t do a damned thing to save you.”

  “I’m fine. I was scared for you.”

  “You begged on your knees; it made me sick.” Kim buried his head in her neck. Strangely, she felt an odd fluttering in her stomach. Beth gulped and tried to control her feelings. If she turned her head, would he kiss her?

  She felt his lips against her neck and the fluttering became warmth all down her body.

  “Kim, we need some help,” Len called from far away.

  The moment faded, and she looked at Kim in the eyes. There was a promise there that death had not taken.

  28

  Falling Apart

  The night after the attack, Beth went to Kim to check his bruises as per Sally’s orders. It was almost bedtime, and he was in his small room. For days, Beth had been more conscious of his eyes on her or how they always sat close together and walked guard duty together. So busy surviving, she had forgotten to notice the world around her was still turning.

  With his shirt off, Kim grimaced a bit as she ran her hands over each discoloration. “Sorry it hurts.” He was doing better, but they had taken a severe beating in the fight.

  “Feels nice.” He smiled.

  “My hurting you feels nice? That’s sad.”

  “Just your hands,” he hung his head, embarrassed, “I like it.”

  Beth paused. “Me, too.”

  “I don’t care if the world goes to hell. I met you.” He looked at her again, watching her eyes, and then gently reached to pull her close, kissing her softly. She moaned, desire hitting her full force with so many feelings she hadn’t wanted to admit. He began to kiss her more urgently, and she yanked her tee shirt off to feel his warm skin on hers. It should be just them; there wasn’t room for anything else, but what they had released.

  As Kim made love to her, he whispered, “It’s always been you.” Even joined like this, Kim didn’t feel close enough to her; he wanted more.

  “Always,” She promised him.

  “I love you, Beth.” And he showed her over and over that night until they fell asleep, exhausted. He held her tightly against him to sleep.

  She moved into his room.

  Len insisted on heavier guard duty now, and they took in a few more survivors, despite the people’s having to come in through a landscape of hell: the pharmacy. While they had moved most of the bodies, they were still close enough to reek; Benny was right in that fewer zeds came around now that the smell was so thick.

  Without Wanda to teach the children, another woman took charge.

  Angie, her head ruined by the stray bullet, died two days after being shot.

  The inactivity might make them safer, but they were restless, and depression was thick in the air.

  Dirty water, oily and grey, seeped in now, pouring and trickling everywhere from above, pooling around the rooms on the floor. A few ceilings came tumbling down, one tossing a rotting, severed arm out among the debris. With eyes on the above, they feared the whole thing would come plummeting down on top of them.

  Some of the rooms, such as the cafeteria, were still stable as were many other parts, but the medical area was looking less safe.

  One of Sally’s patients was developing thick keloid scars from the burns and should have been doing better by now since she had been there over three weeks, but some of the burns looked infected in a way Sally was unsure about.

  Doc said he wondered if the blast had thrown the Red infection into the air, and if it had, did it have a long incubation. If so, then this was what was happening, and if so, any injury might lead to becoming a zed.

  She watched the infection closely and waited for it to take on the tell tale smell that would indicate Red.

  Likewise, Bart the lawyer, whose hand she had removed after it was crushed, should have been doing better by now even though he had lost a lot of blood and had been very ill with normal infection, but he was still very sick. Sally almost cried as she saw a trickle of water soaking his bed. In disgust and pity, she began moving his bed away from the flow of water. She would have to get him dry, put on clean sheets, and change the bandages. To her horror, the trickle became a full flow, like that from a water hose. She yelled in frustration.

  “Sally?” asked Bob who had been coming in to pray for the patients.

  “We’re getting soaked,” she said.

  Across the room, the other man was getting splashed as well. Some bricks, a few pieces of concrete, plaster, wet and gluey, and boards fell, sliding into the room with a deluge of water.

  “I need to get them out of here,” she yelled, pulling at Bart’s bed.

  Calvin’s bed was on the other side of the room, and now debris was between her and him; it would be a bitch to get his bed moved with the trash in her way. Bob was calling for help. But Sally would soon have her patients back, clean and dry.

  Conner and Juan rushed in to help. Conner grabbed Bob’s wheelchair, and they both lifted it backwards and sent him rolling back down the hall, as Conner called for more help.

  The men yelled to Sally to get out as chunks of debris fell, several pieces leaving bruises on the men. Sally was frozen, between her patients, her face terrified. “I have to get them out,” she called as pebbles pinged down in a constant rain now. A chunk of concrete fell, slashing her head open, and she bled onto Bart’s bed, the water turning it pinkish grey.

  Conner tried to get into the room, but a barrage of snapped boards fell in front of him, causing him to back-step back out. “Sally, now, get out.”

  Sliding, roaring, like a landslide, the above debris fell into the medical area, burying everyone and everything to the top. Sally screamed once. Conner and Juan barely stumbled to safety, falling back into the hall beside Bob’s wheelchair.

  “Who? What?” Johnny yelled, running to them.

  “Sally, Bart, and Calvin.”

  “Oh, hell.” Doc and Tink saw the damage.

  “Let’s get them out.” Johnny reached for a brick. “I need help
.”

  Bob wheeled over. “Johnny, hey…”

  George stepped in and took Johnny’s arm, “They didn’t make it, Hon; they’re gone.” The rubble was solid, compacted, and huge. No one could have survived, and it was best to let the dead rest.”

  “Oh, Sally.” Johnny sat back.

  “My father was a contractor,” Len stated, “some of this place will stand for a hundred years and be perfectly safe; then, some of it is so weak; it’s crazy.”

  “Is it all falling in?” Misty asked as she arrived with Mark.

  “No. I don’t think so. We should have moved her and the patients out.”

  Doc looked sick. “Too late for them.”

  Len said they would move the rest to a safer place with all the medical supplies they had gathered; it took all day to move everything and everyone. During, the next few days, they went over all the rooms, moving supplies and people if the ceilings looked unsafe.

  The rain finally stopped, and everyone again grew restless with nothing meaningful to do.

  “One day, it’ll be time to go out,” Bryan said.

  “No way,” Misty declared, “you wanna go out with the zeds that are out there hunting us and everything else?”

  “We can’t stay forever; the food will run out, and I bet the generator is very, very close to being empty of fuel,” Kim said. “We’re running out of time.”

  “There’s nothing out there.”

  George nodded, “It seems that way, just monsters wanting to bite us, but there’s more, there are people like us, and we’ll see sunshine and find a safe place, grow fresh fruits and vegetables, gather animals to raise…rebuild.”

  “With no running water, electricity, or Internet?” Alex frowned. “How do we do that?”

  “We have gasoline though,” Hagan said.

  “It ruins in a few months, so no, we won’t have that either,” Len said.

  Alex sat back in his chair, “Then, how do we survive?”

  George laughed, “Believe it or not, man has survived far longer without those things than with them.”

  “But those were the old days.”

  George patted Misty’s hand, “And what was old is new again. We have to rebuild the world the old way.”