I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  “I hate to be selfish here,” I started. “I have a four season sleeping bag in my pack. Would you …”

  Ratchet laughed. “Dude, I am wearing two base layers of Carhart’s finest. I work in a garage year ‘round. The cold is afraid of me.” He looked over and smiled. “Get yer damn sleeping bag out, ya pussy.”

  I didn’t hesitate. The second I had that baby unzipped and over me, my last remaining first world problem eased away.

  As I munched on a Payday, Ratchet asked, “So … what’s it like, being a rock star?”

  “Before or after the apocalypse?” I returned.

  Ratchet laughed and said, “Let’s start with before and work our way down.”

  I laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Ratchet.

  “Of all the questions I’ve been asked over the years, no one has dropped that one into my lap.”

  “Hell yeah, I popped a rock star cherry.”

  “Wow. Believe it or not, that’s a hard question to answer. You probably want to hear that life is all sex, drugs, and rock and roll.”

  It was Ratchet’s turn to laugh. “No man, the honest answer is always the best answer.”

  “Righteous,” I answered and then gave the question some deep through. “It depends on when you ask me. Some days it’s the most awesome fucking existence. I mean seriously, I get paid to play music ─ not just any music … metal. I get paid to rock. Every night I look out into a crowd of rabid fans and know that my words have touched them in some way. I fucking move people.”

  Ratchet held up his can of Diet Coke to me and nodded. “I’ll drink to that.”

  I clinked my can against his and took a deep swig.

  “So,” Ratchet drawled out, “what if I asked you on the wrong day?”

  I sighed … so long and so loud.

  “Sounds serious.”

  I laughed and answered. “I have a fiancé. She’s one of those beautiful mind types ─ her brain thinks deeper and faster than most. Erica is fucking brilliant, sexy, funny, quirky, honest … she’s everything to me. So when we’re out on tour, it tears me apart to be away from her. The only thing that gets me through is knowing how incredible my welcome home will be. There’s also the never ending days. It’s exhausting.”

  A soft silence drifted over the moment. As the peace settled in, I felt the tension release from my body. I sank into the driver’s seat like butter.

  Ratchet finally broke the quiet. “So being on tour isn’t much different than the apocalypse.”

  “Only the fans are still alive.” I paused. “At least I think they are.”

  Ratchet unleashed a monstrous laugh. “I’ve been to a few metal shows. Some of the fans state of being could be called into question.”

  We shared another clink of cans and a laugh.

  With the drinks emptied and the snacks devoured, I could feel the sweet tug of sleep beckon me from some other dimension. I was desperate to comply.

  Just as I was about to drift off, a hideous scream tore through the surrounding darkness. I jerked up. “What the hell was that?”

  Ratchet’s voice was distant, dark. “That is what’s called a Screamer. They’re the opposite of most of the zombies you’ve seen. With those bastards, if you’ve seen the whites of their eyes, it’s too late. Don’t worry, judging from the sound, that mother fucker is nowhere near us.”

  I dropped back into the cradle of the passenger seat and begged sleep to come soon.

  “Wait until my sister hears I slept with Trey Hawkins. She’ll beat the shit out of me.” Ratchet laughed. “Oh fuck, man. You gotta let me take a selfie with you. I can send it to her and I swear we’ll hear her scream clear across the country.”

  God, I just wanted some sleep.

  “Sure man,” I said and leaned in so he could snap the shot. I tossed my best late-night devil horns and smiled wide for the shot.”

  Ratchet tapped away on his phone. “You’re one of the good guys, Trey. One way or another, I’m gonna get you back to your fiancé.”

  “Thanks, man. I cannot begin to tell you how much that means to me.”

  I snuggled back under my bag and pulled my phone out. Erica’s last text read, At Concordia, waiting for Syl. Love still a constant. Not sure about dinner. I suppressed my laugh, and replied, Have a new travelling partner. He’s promised to return me to you, safe and sound. Going to sleep now so I can dream of you. I adore you. I miss you. Our reunion will be the sweetest ever.

  I closed my eyes. My heartbeat slowed and my breath grew shallow. I placed the image of Erica’s beautiful face in my mind, just before sleep finally took hold.

  To be continued …

  About the Author

  Jack Wallen is a seeker of truth and a writer of words. Although he resides in the unlikely city of Louisville, Kentucky, he likes to think of himself more as an interplanetary soul … or so he tells the reflection in the mirror. He’s also the author of:

  I Zombie I

  My Zombie My

  Die Zombie Die

  Lie Zombie Lie

  Cry Zombie Cry

  Fry Zombie Fry

  Buy Zombie Buy

  Zombie Radio

  T-Minus Zero

  The Last Casket

  Teenage Wasteland

  Kiss & Hell

  Punk Ass Punk

  Suicide Station

  Frankenstein Theory

  Hell’s Muse

  The Nails of Calvary

  The Dark Seduction

  Screampark

  Klockwerk Kabaret

  Tick Tock Girl

  Shero

  Shero II: Zombie A GoGo

  Shero III: Death by Cosplay

  A Blade Away

  Gothica

  Endgame

  Control

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  A Tale Of Two Reapers, please consider leaving a review at Amazon, even if it’s only a line or two; it would make all the difference and would be very much appreciated.

  Contact Jack!

  To get more information about Jack, stop by his web site, Get Jack’d, and learn more. You can also send Jack an email to jack@jackwallen.com.