Zombies in Paradise (Love in the Age of Zombies Book 2)

by James K. Evans

  “I consider myself a very lucky man,” Doc said graciously. “Please, allow me!” He took the corkscrew and popped the wine cork. “To answer your earlier question, Kevin, no I didn’t walk. I drove my Jeep.”

  “I didn’t see any Jeep outside! Where is it?!” Kevin protested.

  Doc held up his hand, signaling him to stop. “Ah-ah-ah! One step at a time! I drove my Jeep until I ran out of gas about fifteen miles from here. I walked the rest of the way. It took me about five hours, and I was walking at a brisk pace. I hoped to drive all the way here, but didn’t quite make it. There were a few distractions along the way and it took me longer than I’d anticipated.”

  “You guys scared the hell out of me!” Kevin said, turning to Michelle. “I saw Doc go through our side door and thought we were under attack again! And you!” he said, turning to Doc, “I’ve been trying to reach you on the radio for days! Here I was worried about you and all along you’re playing a trick on me! I might have killed you!”

  “Were you surprised?” Doc said.

  “Yes!”

  “Are you glad to see me?”

  “Of course!”

  “Then why are we talking about it?”

  Kevin’s initial surge of adrenalin subsided and he found himself very glad to meet Doc in person. He stepped in and wrapped his arms around the older man. “You crazy old coot,” he said, “you’re so ornery you remind me of Dr. McCoy. It’s no wonder they call you Bones!”

  “They don’t.” he replied testily. “No one but you.”

  “Welcome to the new reality,” Michelle said, as she drew close and was drawn into their group hug. “He makes it up as he goes. Doc was supposed to get here in a day, two at the most. I was getting worried, too, but didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  “So it took you four days? Why so long?!” Kevin persisted in asking.

  “Like I said, there were a few distractions,” Doc again said vaguely. “For now, I want to enjoy a very worthy bourbon in the company of two of my favorite people in the world. To us!” Doc raised his glass in a toast.

  “Amen!” Michelle said.

  “Cheers!” Kevin added, as they clinked their glasses together.

  Over the next few minutes Doc gave them a bare-bones account of his trip. “When Michelle told me she was pregnant, I thought it was great news, but I could tell she was worried. When she explained why, I understood. I was going stir-crazy in the cabin by myself and offered to make the trip. There was plenty of gas for the Jeep and while I didn’t know exactly what to expect, I didn’t think the trip would take so long.” When pressed for details, he lifted his empty highball glass and said, “Please, not when I’m empty.” But by the time Michelle refilled his glass, he’d steered the conversation away from his trip by asking about their living arrangements.

  They showed him around their home. He was impressed with the hydroponic grow room and was very happy to learn he could take a hot shower; his leg muscles were stiff after his long hike. Kevin promised he’d show him the rooftop solar panel array when it was a bit warmer outside. They were glad they’d kept the extra mattress, because now Doc could use it in the living room while they continued to use the inflatable mattress in the bedroom.

  Michelle and Kevin had to change some of their lovemaking habits—not only were they not in the habit of being quiet, Kevin used to encourage her to be loud. But being quiet was kind of fun, too, like they were sneaking around, getting away with something.

  So began their time with Doc. They had met over the shortwave radio not long after the Collapse and had become friends. Michelle, a nurse practitioner, valued Doc’s input while caring for Kevin’s bullet wound, and he’d become a father-figure to them both. Kevin and Michelle were fairly new lovers, having been thrown together by circumstance. She’d moved in next door just before society collapsed, and it then became obvious Michelle would not survive unless she moved into Kevin’s survival bunker/basement. Kevin hadn’t been with a woman in years, and between her intelligence, sense of humor, innate beauty, and his obsession with her large breasts, he’d quickly become infatuated.

  Kevin initially resisted Michelle’s overt invitations because he still carried pain from the loss of his wife and baby, Tammy and Jason. He spent many restless nights in bed, wondering about the woman sleeping in his living room. Eventually his attraction overcame his reservations, and soon they were not only bedmates but deeply in love. Living in a small shelter, effectively surrounded by zombies and unaware of any survivors other than Doc, they both had to deal with long-buried hurts and fears caused by past relationships. The emotional upheaval caused Kevin to experience paranoid jealousy that defied logic. But they talked their way through it and eventually his delusions faded. When Michelle discovered she was pregnant, their relationship became even stronger.

  With the rising temperatures, the ugly, putrid zombie tissue on the lawn and in the street became a problem. Kevin was taken aback when he saw a crocus shooting up through the fetid remains of a zombie torso. The intact bodies had been hauled off, but there were pieces and parts of bodies scattered around. Kevin didn’t have the stomach to try to remove any of it, and hoped Mother Nature would completely reclaim the remains soon, either through scavengers (ugh!) or through decomposition. In the meantime, the smell outside was unpleasant enough to keep them indoors most of the time.

  About a week after Doc joined them, he officiated their wedding. It was a sweet ceremony. It felt right having him live with them, and even though Kevin already considered Michelle his wife, they both wanted a ceremony. It was short and sweet. They both said I do and Kevin kissed the bride. Doc graciously spent the night upstairs so they could have a brief, overnight honeymoon. They enjoyed the freedom to make noise and walk around naked.

  A few days later, Doc wanted to retrieve his abandoned Jeep, so he and Kevin went to the carport to see if the Civic would start. It wouldn’t. The battery was deader than a zombie. They spent about an hour trying to discover a way to recharge the battery with solar power, but even after rerouting the power from the solar cells and letting it charge for a day, the battery was still dead. They checked Michelle’s BMW; it was as dead as the Civic. After eight idle months, the batteries were ruined. The men talked it over and reached the same conclusion: if they were going to get the Jeep, they would have to make the trip on bikes. It would be faster and safer than walking. Kevin’s bike was in good shape, but his late wife’s old bike needed a lot of work. They took it apart and used a steel brush to get rid of the corrosion on the chain and gears, then soaked them in penetrating oil. Fortunately Kevin had replacement tires and inner tubes, so they replaced the dry-rotted tires and tubes and tightened the spokes. While letting the chain and gears soak, they planned their trip using a map spread on the upstairs kitchen counter. At one point, Doc said, “You know, Michelle might not like the idea of us going, especially without her. You’d better talk to her.” They put the bike back together and Doc took a quick ride around the block to make sure it was road worthy, then they went downstairs to tell her their plans. She didn’t take it well.

  “Why do you need the Jeep? Why risk getting it? Just stay here where it’s safe,” she implored. Doc explained that his medical kit, weapons and survival gear were in the Jeep, and he wasn’t about to abandon it. Then she wanted to know why the men were taking bikes and not a car.

  Kevin explained that his Civic and her BMW were both dead, and even if one started it wouldn’t be much good. Passenger cars were built for smooth paved roads, and it was very likely they’d have to go off-road. Plus, even if the batteries would hold a charge, the gasoline was stale and the car probably wouldn’t start. If it did start it wouldn’t run well and wouldn’t run long. Bikes were the best alternative.

  “The Jeep is just northeast of Dexter,” Kevin reminded her, “about fifteen miles away. We can get there and back in a three or four hours.”

  She looked back and forth between them, realizing their minds were made up. They
talked it over some more and she reluctantly accepted their decision with a resigned look in her eyes.

  Doc and Kevin quickly planned a gas run. “We should look for luxury sports cars, Hummers, and high-end Jeeps,” Doc said. “We can siphon gas from their tanks. Guys who own Jeeps like mine can pleasantly obsess over them, constantly adding off-road accessories and using gas stabilizer with every tank. I haven’t run a tank of normal gas in ten years. Most engines weren’t designed for regular gas which contains ethanol, and the few times I used it the Jeep had less power and worse gas mileage. Owners like me sought out stations selling alcohol-free gas, or used stabilizers like me.”

  “What’s going to happen a few years from now when all the gas is gone or bad?” Michelle asked.

  “Unless someone knows how to pump oil and refine it, internal combustion engines may be a thing of the past. You can run cars on pure distilled alcohol, but synthetic seals and gaskets weren’t made for alcohol, so they’d break down in no time. Plus it would take a huge amount of grain to distill that much alcohol. Unless you had an overabundance, chances are you’d use the grain for food. Grain alcohol would be an extreme luxury.”

  Kevin could tell Michelle wasn’t happy about their trip. She made a good argument for going with them, but Doc and Kevin were firmly against that—Kevin’s pregnant wife was not going to take any unnecessary risks, and besides, they only had two bikes. In the end she acquiesced to staying home. Doc was right about her not liking the idea, and that night she was not in the mood for loving. She barely even snuggled. Earlier she had complained of having a headache, and during dinner said she was feeling kind of woozy. She had also started complaining about feeling nauseous and her ankles swelling. All of these are normal during pregnancy—Kevin’s late wife, Tammy had made some of the same complaints—but even so, Kevin noticed Doc watching her closely. He was thankful for Doc’s vast experience in treating pregnancies; Kevin wouldn’t know which complaints of hers were normal and which were serious.

  Chapter Three

  Kevin and Michelle started the day off making love, then Kevin got dressed and made coffee. Kevin told Doc about the upscale neighborhood nearby and they decided to scout for gas. He also told Doc about seeing the man and his dog as they scavenged supplies. Doc asked questions Kevin couldn’t answer—the guy’s age, his demeanor, did he look healthy, was he military, etc. Kevin couldn’t tell him much, but they agreed to watch for the man. Michelle stayed downstairs, complaining again about morning sickness and having a headache. Since becoming pregnant she’d gained weight, too, and Kevin wondered if it was normal for a pregnant woman’s face to swell as much as Michelle’s.

  The third house they broke into had a four-car garage, and they were thrilled to find one bay held a very nice deck boat. The boat tank was nearly full, and there was a full five-gallon can of gas as well. After they siphoned the gas, Kevin said he hoped they could figure out a more pleasant way of doing this than sucking gas out of a garden hose.

  The gas tanks on these boats typically hold about fifty gallons, and they agreed to round up more empty gas cans in the next few days to siphon off the rest of the gas.

  They headed home without seeing any sign of the man or his dog. As soon as they opened the trap door, the aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted them. Michelle had slow-cooked one of the canned hams, and had gone so far as to put a layer of canned pineapple over the top and a brown sugar glaze had caramelized on top. It was delicious. Doc and Kevin were in a good mood and ate heartily, but Michelle was a bit subdued.

  Kevin imagined she felt left out. They were going on a grand adventure (even if it was only a thirty mile round trip), and she had no choice but to stay home and wait. Kevin had only known her for seven months, but he’d learned she resented being treated as a member of the weaker sex. She definitely does not fit that description—she’s as strong as anyone I’ve ever known, but she’s warm and soft, too, Kevin thought. If you didn’t notice her flashing eyes and haughty tone when she thinks she’s being put down, her bright, cheerful humor might make you think she agrees with you. I imagine she’d be a fierce enemy. Just when a guy lets his guard down, hypnotized by her ample breasts, WHAM! He’s toast. Hey, wait a minute. Did that happen to me? I know I was hypnotized by her breasts and still am! That night in bed she was responsive but quiet. Her orgasm was intense, and as she sometimes did after a hard climax, she wept in his arms. Kevin wondered if there was more to it than just a great orgasm.

  He woke up early in the morning and made coffee. It roused Doc and Michelle, and they had a quick but quiet breakfast of energy bars and coffee. Doc and Kevin put on an extra layer of clothes, grabbed a few supplies, and they all headed upstairs. They loaded the bikes with their scant supplies, then Kevin gave Michelle a big hug and Doc gave her a peck on the cheek. “We’ll be back in a few hours,” Kevin promised, and they pedaled down the driveway. Michelle waved goodbye before turning on her heels and going inside. Kevin figured she still wasn’t feeling well. It felt good to be on his bike again, but he didn’t like waving goodbye to her.

  The neighborhood was largely free of zombies. During the winter Kevin and Michelle had expanded their hunt and eliminated a couple hundred of the creatures. Kevin knew it was only a matter of time before more zombies migrated near.

  Because they were only going fifteen miles or so, they didn’t pack much; a few bottles of water, two gas cans, Kevin’s revolver and Doc’s rifle. Doc also had a baseball bat he’d picked up in the boat garage. Kevin was wearing a bandana on his head and Doc had on a kind of hunter’s fedora.

  It was amazing how fast houses had deteriorated. Some of the front doors were open, warped from the weather and hanging crookedly. The Ann Arbor winter had taken its toll. Nothing in the neighborhood looked neat and orderly. It was unnerving to see formerly clean roads, driveways and manicured lawns littered with leaves, fallen branches, and the occasional remains of the dead.

  Once again, he was struck by the silence. Who knew civilization was so loud? With no machines, no near or distant sound of traffic, and no airplanes droning overhead, it was easy to hear the songbirds—but even easier to hear the silence. Kevin used to get irritated at night, hearing the sounds of traffic when he wanted to hear sounds of nature as he fell asleep with the bedroom windows open. Now it was too quiet.

  Passing one house, Kevin could see at least a dozen dead zombie bodies scattered across the yard and in the street. As they threaded their way around the bodies, Kevin noticed their heads were separated from their bodies and they were very decomposed; from dust they began, to dust they return, he thought. The decapitated zombies meant survivors had been here at one point. Were they still around? Had they finally succumbed to zombies, or run out of food and starved? Were they watching even now?

  He felt ill at ease. They were not far from the elementary school where the guy and his dog were holed up, and he pointed this out to Doc. Kevin could tell he, too, felt something was amiss. Riding their bikes through these streets felt like riding through a haunted neighborhood. It felt like they were being watched. Perhaps not with malicious intent, but with something not too far removed. He knew death had been here and was still nearby. He must be on his guard and be cool, but it was hard not to let his feelings spook him.

  They made good time once they were in a more rural area without as many zombies to contend with. About an hour later, they approached North Lake and found Doc’s Jeep where it’d run out of gas. Doc began emptying gas into the tank while Kevin walked around the Jeep, checking it out. It was absolutely filthy. Mud was splashed back on the body, obscuring much of the paint. The passenger side of the windshield was cracked with dark gore residue smeared around the impact zone. The inside of the car was packed with supplies, from fishing rods to a tent to a bed pillow. Not being an outdoorsman, Kevin didn’t know brands, but the equipment looked very well-made.

  “Your turn, Kevin,” Doc said as he finished emptying his gas can. Kevin took over transferring gas into the tank.
Doc walked around his Jeep, inspecting it. Kevin saw him look at the broken fog light and shake his head in anger, and when he checked out the messy, smeared spider web of cracks in his windshield, Kevin heard him mutter under his breath, “Goddamn it!”

  After Kevin finished with the gas, Doc got inside the cab and cranked the engine. It turned over a few times before it started, but the engine sounded strong and healthy. Doc let it warm up while Kevin opened the cargo area to make room for the bikes. Doc revved the engine a few times, looking relaxed and at home. Kevin could tell he was glad to have his Jeep back. Doc got out the map and they checked their route. They agreed to go back through Dexter, as the route looked a bit shorter. It was already after noon and they wanted to be home before dark.

  Doc pulled onto the road. The sensation of going fifty miles an hour was both exhilarating and frightful for Kevin who hadn’t traveled faster than bike speed for the past six months. It was also familiar enough for him to relax after a few seconds. As they approached an underpass blocked with a vehicle pile-up, Doc stopped in the middle of the road and got the map out again. “Don’t you think you should pull over to the shoulder?” Kevin said. Doc just looked at him and laughed good-naturedly.

  “We know we can’t get through the underpass, but look at the empty area around us,” he said, pointing at the map. “It looks like we could go off road here, just to the southwest.” Damn, it must be nice to have a vehicle that can go off road! I’ve always driven sensible, fuel efficient cars, Kevin thought. Choosing to color outside the lines—that is, going off-road—gave Kevin a sense of empowerment.

  A few hundred feet before the overpass was the scrubby beginning of a tree line. Doc engaged the four-wheel drive and pulled off the road and into the field. Just as Doc said, it was wide open, flat, and empty other than a solitary zombie standing stark still in the middle of the field. They drove across the field, between two saplings, across the railroad tracks leading to the underpass, and into the parking lot of an A&W. Kevin’s mouth watered as he recalled the flavor and sensation of a frosty mug o’ beer. “Man, I could go for a mug of root beer right now!” he exclaimed.