Mail Horror Bride (One Nation Under Zombies Book 1)

by Lee, Raymond

“Of course,” Cruz said. “We don’t have much though.”

  “Oh you got a treasure here.” Kurt ogled Raven. “I’m usually not into blue haired punk girls but this one will do.”

  “Oh hell no,” Damian said, stepping forward.

  Cruz reached out an arm, holding him back. “Raven’s not shareable.”

  “Raven?” Kurt laughed. “Hell of a name. Hell of a woman. Oh, I don’t really want to share her with you. You see, she’s mine.”

  “Wrong again.”

  “Well, so much for us helping each other out.”

  “Come on, Kurt,” Carlos said. “Leave the women alone.”

  “Hey, I was leaving them the Chinese one. I just want the wild haired one.” He stepped closer and before Cruz could make a move, Raven unsheathed the katana and placed its tip at Kurt’s throat.

  Kurt immediately aimed his gun at her chest. Cruz pointed his at Kurt’s head as Damian pulled Cliff’s pistol free of his waistband and aimed for Kurt’s face as well.

  “Everyone relax!” Carlos reached out. “Elijah, give me that gun.”

  “Elijah, you don’t listen to your daddy,” Kurt growled. “You point that gun at this sonofabitch’s head.” He glared at Cruz.

  “Elijah, you know who I am,” Cruz said calmly. “You don’t want to shoot me.”

  “Put your gun down, Kurt.” Elijah’s voice shook but the tone was firm.

  Carlos pleaded with his son. “Elijah, get out of here. Go hide.”

  “I’m not letting Cruz Thomas or his friends die, Dad.”

  “Cruz Thomas?” Kurt sneered. “You think this rich fucker gives two shits about you, boy? Famous douche bags don’t give a crap about real people.”

  “I care about my friends and I will kill for them,” Cruz countered. “I’m not an actor now. I’m a survivor just like the rest of you. Nobody’s better than anybody.”

  “How sweet. Somebody write those lines for you?”

  “Enough of this,” Carlos shouted. “We have plenty of room. We can make this work. Kurt, you can not claim a woman. It isn’t right.”

  “Why the hell not? We’re giving them food and shelter.”

  “Because you can’t own another person like they were a possession.”

  “Oh yeah?” He grinned, looking at Damian. “My great-great-granddaddy owned a whole bunch of people.”

  “Sonofabitch.” Damian aimed between Kurt’s eyes and started to squeeze the trigger but a tall black man with facial hair stepped out from the shelves lining the aisle, the barrel of his gun resting flat against the back of Kurt’s head.

  “Everybody drop their weapons,” he ordered, his voice deep and brooking no room for negotiation as a young blonde girl covered in blood and stuff Damian didn’t want to think about stepped out from behind him, gun pointed.

  A woman then stepped out, petite and Asian like Pimjai.

  “Janjai!” Pimjai nearly squealed as she rushed forward. The women hugged and began talking in fast, excited tones, in a language Damian couldn’t pinpoint. Chinese, Japanese, it all sounded the same to Damian.

  “I said lower them,” the tall man said again.

  Slowly, they all lowered their guns. Raven kept her blade tip against Kurt’s throat.

  “You too, sweetheart,” the man said.

  Cruz placed one hand on her shoulder, using the other to grab her wrist and make her lower the sword. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he promised.

  “So that’s it,” Carlos said, finishing up his tour of Wally’s Club, which included a grocery with aisles and aisles of canned and boxed food, still good, and a whole aisle of bottled water. It also included a selection of guns and ammo and a small shooting range which they could use for training, a pharmacy which likely held the drugs Cruz needed, a camping section and furniture. They would have beds to sleep in, camp stoves to cook on and even a regular oven was hooked up, powered by the generators. Wally’s Club had an automotive department so they had gas, but they only used what they needed, knowing once it ran out, there went their power.

  “Kurt is a pain to deal with,” he went on, referring to the man who’d went off to fume after being stopped by the people Pimjai’s sister had been with, “but other than that, this is a good shelter. We blocked the front windows and the doors are kept locked. Those things aren’t smart enough to figure out how to pick locks, which I guess you all were, or land on a rooftop for that matter. You are all safe.”

  He frowned, looking at the young brunette girl. Raven frowned too. She favored Sky.

  “Was she bitten?” he asked the black man who’d entered the building with her and Pimjai’s sister.

  “I wasn’t bitten,” the girl said defiantly. “We had to fight off a lot of zombies getting in here. It got bloody.”

  “We all got a little messy,” the man said. Hal. He’d said his name was Hal. The woman was Janjai, Pimjai’s sister. And the girl was Angela. Not Sky. Sky was dead, like Jeremy.

  She’d failed both of them. She’d allowed the zombies to eat them alive, ripping them apart. They were probably walking around now, zombies themselves. Her beautiful sister could be walking around the streets of Hollywood, her face rotting off.

  Raven turned and ran. She didn’t care where. She just needed away from the group.

  “Raven!” Cruz ran behind her.

  She reached the furniture section and stopped, realizing she had nowhere to go. Her options were inside with people she didn’t want to care about or outside with dead people who wanted to eat her.

  “What’s wrong, Raven?”

  “Leave me alone.” She sat on a display bed, a full-sized bed with a dark blue flower-covered comforter, and pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around them.

  “Raven.” Cruz sat on the bed next to her. “I know you’re hurting. Jeremy was a good kid, but she wasn’t a survivor. It was just a matter of time.”

  “You’re so cold.”

  “No, I’m realistic. She was a child in a world not meant for children. It’s kill or be killed out there and she didn’t have it in her. You can’t blame yourself. Hell, if you want to blame someone, blame me. I’m the one who brought everyone here. We could have gone to the camp in Arizona. I’m sorry.”

  “I should have never helped her. The day I saw her outside the window, lost and crying. I shouldn’t have helped her.”

  “She would have died.”

  “She died anyway. Only now, it hurts worse because I knew her. She hated me.”

  “No she didn’t.”

  “Yes, she did. She had a crush on you. A stupid young girl’s crush. She thought I was competition. She died hating me. She probably thought I wanted her to die to get her out of the picture.”

  “Raven.” He attempted to take her hand and she flung him off.

  “Leave me alone. I’m done caring about people. I can’t anymore.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yes I do. I’m done. I wish I’d never met any of you. We will all die eventually and each death will take another piece of me with it. What I feel now is all I will ever feel and even that is too much.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “There’s a pharmacy here. Find what you need to make yourself better and protect yourself. I wish you well even if it doesn’t matter.” She looked him in the eye. “We’re all going to die horribly.”

  He shook his head. “No. We will not die. We’ll look out for each other.”

  “We can’t win.”

  “Yes, we can. We’re fighters, Raven. We will keep fighting until this thing is over. We’re going to survive.”

  “I’d kill myself right now if not for the fear of seeing my sister again. I led her to her death.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re just upset. It’ll get better.”

  She heard Sky’s scream clear in her mind but it was the image of Jeremy’s legs sticking out under a pile of zombies that haunted her. She fought back bile. “How could it possibly get better?�
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  “We’re still alive. You have me, Damian, and these new people. We can’t be the only people left. This whole thing will end and we’ll have normal lives again.”

  “I don’t know these new people and I don’t want to. I don’t want to know you or Damian. I just want to stop feeling.”

  “That’s impossible. I once thought my mother had beaten everything out of me. It’s how I was able to act so well. I became my character because I was just an empty shell with no feelings of my own, but I wasn’t as empty as I thought. Rage was always there, simmering just beneath the surface. Then I met you and all the feelings that had died in me, the good ones, came back.”

  “Stop.” She couldn’t allow him to go on. What was next, a declaration of love? She didn’t want or deserve such a thing.

  “We’re going to be fine, Raven. If anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll kill them. I’ll do that for you.”

  She looked at Cruz, the sincerity in his eyes, and what was left of her heart broke. “You’re turning into a monster and you don’t even know it.”

  He sat back, eyes wide with surprise. “Why would you say that? I just want to protect you.”

  “If I allow you to kill for me, then there’s nothing left of me to protect. I don’t believe you’re a bad person. Don’t let your confused feelings turn you into one.”

  “Raven.”

  “Go to the pharmacy. Get what you need. Now.” She lay down, turning on her side, away from him.

  “Those pills don’t help me. They numb me. I think clearer without them.”

  “You see and talk to dead people without them.”

  “They tell me things. They told me my mother was waiting for me in our old house and she was.”

  “You knew she was dead before we even got there?”

  “She was a zombie but she still waited for me. She wasn’t dead yet.”

  “She was dead, Cruz, and if you’d been taking your pills you’d have known that. You wouldn’t have beaten a corpse and freaked Jeremy out.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “And I don’t want to. I don’t even want to talk to you.”

  “Raven.” He sounded hurt, which gave her a twinge of guilt, but she had to help him because unfortunately she cared. It sucked.

  “Go away. Don’t speak to me again until you’re back on your medication.” She waited for him to leave but he sat there. She listened to him breathe, fighting the impulse to kick him off the bed. She just wanted to be alone.

  “Raven.” He placed his hand on her hip.

  Reflexively, she turned on him.

  “Leave me alone!” She screamed in his face. “Now!”

  His eyes registered surprise, confusion and hurt. She didn’t allow it to soften her as he stood and walked away, even when he stopped to look back at her with water welling in his eyes.

  She turned away again, giving him her back as she closed her eyes and raged inside.

  Angela hauled her loot into one of the bathrooms. Wally’s Club was large enough it had restrooms in the front and back. The others had chosen to clean up in the back so she chose the women’s restroom in the front, locking the door behind her. She needed privacy for what she had to do.

  The building had power thanks to the generator but it didn’t have running water so she’d grabbed a gallon of drinking water in addition to the soap, shampoo, and supplies needed for her wound, a wound no one else could see.

  She deposited everything on the counter and plugged the sink before pouring water into it. Her reflection in the mirror was nightmarish. Blood, dirt and assorted other filth clung to her skin, clothes, and hair.

  She removed her clothing first, biting her lip to keep from crying as her sleeve stuck to the drying blood from her wound. A few tears escaped as she looked at her forearm, taking in the increased size and the dark blue and purple discoloration surrounding the bite.

  They’d been camouflaged by the smoke bomb but the zombies could still hear. Four had surrounded her, drawn by the sound of twigs snapping beneath her feet or maybe her own labored breath as she ran down the hill. She’d killed them all, but not before one had sank its rotting teeth into her arm.

  The others hadn’t seen. The smoke hadn’t just camouflaged her from the zombies, but from her own people. It was scary for a moment but it had saved her life. Janjai may have let her live but Hal would have killed her if he’d seen the bite. He wouldn’t have allowed her the chance to turn.

  They had no idea she’d been bitten and she was determined they wouldn’t find out. Her dad had never had a chance. It wasn’t the bite that had infected him. He’d been infected the moment he’d slept with Elena.

  She had a chance. No one had proven the bites could definitely kill. Oh, they could infect. The zombie’s saliva was coursing through her blood now but she wouldn’t turn until she died. She didn’t plan on dying. She planned on fighting off any sickness the zombie bite caused and surviving until a cure was found. Surely there were a bunch of doctors and scientists working on a cure somewhere.

  Angela mixed some bath wash into the water she’d poured into the sink and gave herself a sponge bath, using baby wipes to get any grime she’d missed. She washed her hair, trying not to gag whenever her fingers touched blood or other gooey things that had come from the zombies. It took half a bottle of conditioner to get the tangles out.

  It had been hard finding something with sleeves since the weather had been warmer when the outbreak happened but she’d found a sweatshirt in the sportswear department. She pulled on the underclothes and jeans she’d found but left the sweatshirt for last. First she needed to take care of her arm.

  The peroxide felt like liquid fire as it hit the open skin. Angela nearly screamed but knew it was the worst thing she could do. She grit her teeth as tears swam down her face and waited for the pain to subside. Finally it did and she coated the wound with ointment before wrapping it in gauze.

  Once the wound was clean and wrapped she pulled on the sweatshirt, hiding the evidence. Her head throbbed and heat burned behind her eyes. She popped a few Tylenol for the headache and fever then cleaned up her mess.

  During their tour she’d seen a loft bed in the kids furniture area and it was calling her name. She had every intention of sleeping several hours. Maybe in the morning she’d have a nice bowl of chicken noodle soup and some ginger ale.

  Damian looked at the paper he’d been carrying in his pocket and compared it to the package he found on the pharmacy shelf. “Bingo.”

  He grabbed the box and headed to the front. Cruz stood at the counter.

  “Think of the devil,” he said, tossing the two boxes on the counter top. “There’s plenty of both your prescriptions.”

  Cruz looked at the boxes but said nothing. He made no move to pull his hands out of his pockets and take the pills.

  “Take them, Cruz. They’ll quiet all that noise in your head. You know you need them.”

  “Raven tell you to get these?”

  “No, but I imagine she would have if she was talking.”

  “Oh, she’s talking.” Cruz walked over to the small waiting area and sat down on one of the vinyl chairs. “And she said a lot.”

  Unease slithered through Damian’s gut. “What’s wrong, man? You didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

  The look Cruz gave him would have petrified a lesser man. “I would never hurt her. Never.”

  “Yeah, well, that shit that happened back there with your mother was some scary ass stuff. Take the pills, man. We need to stay strong and you aren’t right now. You may think you are but your mind’s messed up.”

  “You don’t know what’s going on inside my mind.”

  “You got that right.” Damian leaned against the counter. “I know I need you strong and healthy.”

  “Well, isn’t this cute?” Kurt clapped his hands. “Bravo! Homio and Juliet, live and in person.”

  “What’s your problem?” Cruz stood up.

  “Aw, don’t ge
t your panties in a twist, Hollywood.” Kurt smiled as he fondled his gun. “There’s enough bullets for both of you. You two lovers can go out together, holding hands even if you want.”

  “Kurt.” Carlos and Elijah walked up behind the redheaded jerk, guns in hand. “Let’s not do this again.”

  “No, let’s do it,” Damian said. “No guns though.”

  He stepped around the counter. “Why don’t you fight me man to man?”

  “Don’t you have to be a man first, princess?” Kurt sneered. “I know what you are. I can see it in your walk.”

  “Oh really? What am I? Man up and say it.”

  “I’m not scared of you.” Kurt stepped closer. “Faggot ass nigger.”

  Damian swung. His fist connected with Kurt’s jaw, knocking the man off balance. His gun fell out of his hand as he landed on his back. Seizing the moment, Damian followed him to the floor and delivered several sharp, fast jabs. When Kurt protected his face, he moved on to the racist asshole’s ribs, finding pleasure in the man’s grunts of pain.

  Hands pulled at him as voices shouted, but he ignored them. He’d dealt with racism and hatred his whole life. He wasn’t going to deal with it in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

  A gun went off, shattering glass, and he paused, looking up to see the tall black man, Hal, standing over them with the barrel of his gun pointed up. A light above them had been shot out.

  Cruz pulled him off Kurt and Carlos checked the man’s injuries, or tried to before Kurt shoved him away. “Leave me alone. All y’all stick together.”

  Damian lunged for the jerk again but Cruz tightened his grip on him. Hal stepped in front of him, holding up a hand. “Let him go.”

  Kurt spit blood at his feet and walked off, muttering about cheap shots and payback.

  “You hear what the hell he said to me? How are you going to just let him walk off, brother?”

  Hal lowered his gun. “If you kill him in a fit of anger, it’s not justified. It’s murder. An evil man must be smited, not murdered, or else the act is not righteous.”

  Hal walked off in the same direction Kurt had, leaving the four other men standing there confused.

  “What the hell did he just say?” Damian asked.