The Dark Times: A Zombie Novel

by Dane Hatchell

  “Are we stopping?” Angie yelled into his ear.

  “Yeah, I can’t go on. I need to rest. I think I need a doctor.”

  “Well, I don’t think you’re going to have any luck finding one of those.”

  “Then I will settle for something to eat and some Advil.”

  “I can get behind that,” Angie said, squeezing him tighter.

  Rico groaned, trying to fight the pain. She relaxed her grip and he wondered if Angie had just shown him some affection and given him a hug.

  After a few miles, the rural view of trees and clear pastureland gave way to the outskirts of city life. Signs posted along the road advertised fuel, lodging, and the fast food places available at the next exit. Rico imagined himself hitting the next Taco Bell and scarfing down a whole twelve back of Supreme Tacos by himself.

  “What’s the plan—”

  Rico raised his hand, instructing her to wait. As he made the turn to the exit, civilization and its state of dismay presented itself. He killed the engine and coasted slowly toward the intersection until he braked to a stop.

  In a low voice, he said, “Look for a CVS, or a Walgreens, or something like that. And please, don’t do anything that will attract any attention.”

  “Oh, my God,” Angie whispered. Her fingers dug into Rico’s side.

  The area looked like an army had rolled through with a scorched earth agenda. Crackles and thumps of burning buildings collapsing interrupted the eerie silence. If things are this bad here, I can only imagine what the rest of the country looks like, Rico thought. Fumes from the burning debris stung against the back of his throat.

  The road in both directions was deserted. Abandoned cars littered the streets. A building to one side, a Chase Bank, was engulfed in flames. A gust of wind picked up and blew toward them. Heat reached out like gripping hands, beckoning them into the pits of Hell along with everyone else.

  In the distance, several other buildings smoldered and burned. Other structures had windows busted out. A car not far away was parked haphazardly on the sidewalk, a half mangled body hung from the driver’s side door. Streaks of blood covered the entire side of the car and pooled on the pavement below. Farther down, a lone fire hydrant gushed its water onto the street like a horizontal version of Old Faithful. The flood of water steadily worked its way toward them. It reminded Rico of the dead, building in number by the minute to flood the world. That thought brought up a whole new question. Where was everyone—the living? Where were the undead?

  The place was like a ghost town. It took less than 24 hours to turn an average city filled with every day activity upside down.

  Rico shifted his gaze up and down the road. There had to be people somewhere. Maybe they had taken refuge in churches or schools—large buildings where masses could huddle together. Safety in numbers sounded reasonable. Then, more people gathered together would require more resources. He remembered reading stories about New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina hit. Some humans quickly degenerated into animals. There was no way he was ever going to subject himself to a situation like that.

  No life. And no unlife, as it were.

  For the latter, he was thankful.

  “Which way should we go?” Angie whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Rico said. “That’s what I was trying to decide. We need to stay away from fire though, if at all possible. You know how that stuff can spread.”

  Just then, as if to make the decision for them, a cluster of undead ghouls shuffled into sight between some vehicles less than a block away.

  “Look there,” she said, and pointed.

  “I see them.” Rico turned his head, looking for the best way to avoid the crowd. “Uh oh, there are some coming from over that way, too.”

  The second pack of zombies was fewer in number but closer.

  “How do they know we’re here?”

  “Probably heard the bike before I killed the engine,” Rico said. He looked over his shoulder back the way they had come and then straight ahead. “Straight it is.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Angie sighed and wrapped her arms around Rico’s sore ribs as he brought the engine to life.

  ***

  Going straight down the highway bypass kept them out of harm’s way but didn’t put them any closer to a pharmacy. Rico turned right after a few blocks and then headed back toward the main road. He weaved in and out of abandoned vehicles and found his reward at the next major intersection.

  Angie tapped him on the shoulder, and he raised a thumb to let her know he got the message. The entrance to the CVS was just up ahead. Nothing was on fire for a few blocks. Rico killed the engine once again and coasted the bike as quietly as possible toward the store. The bike rolled to a stop near the door.

  It appeared so far no one dead or alive had taken notice of their arrival. Angie hopped off the bike, and Rico set it on its stand. He brought his pistol out from the small of his back and prepared for the worst.

  “It’s so strange to see a town deserted like this. Where are all the people? You don’t think they’re all dead, do you?” Angie whispered.

  “I hope not. Maybe they’re all hunkered down at home right now. Most people probably have enough supplies to last a few days.”

  “Did you see those two guys loading up a TV by that electronics store?”

  Rico crunched glass under his boot as he eased toward the entrance. “Yeah. One man’s zombie apocalypse of doom is another man’s winning lottery ticket. People never cease to amaze me.”

  Angie looked about as if she were afraid a wild animal was about to attack from her blindside. “Are we going in? I’m scared.”

  “Yeah, but I’m just as concerned as to what might be inside as I am out here. Just keep an eye out while I check things.”

  Angie stepped up behind him and grabbed onto an elbow. Rico pulled his arm away and shook his head. He moved inside the pharmacy.

  The doors in front had been taken out by someone who must have known what they were doing. Rico didn’t imagine a brick or a tire iron couldn’t have broken through without taking all day—if at all. He guessed it was possible someone used a vehicle like a battering ram to lay waste of the door. It certainly made entering easy, but it also left the pharmacy wide open for any stray zombies to wander in.

  The front counter was to the left and clear of any dangers. He had a good view of the right side of the building and it looked clear, too. A few steps later had him down the center aisle. He didn’t waste any time heading to the back, scanning each aisle as he passed.

  “I can’t believe this place is empty,” Angie said in a low voice.

  “It’s too good to be true. Almost feels like a horror movie, where just when you think it’s safe, something jumps out and grabs you.”

  “What are we going to do? Grab some stuff and leave? It’s getting dark.”

  “No, I’m thinking we barricade the front and stay for the night. There’s just no way I can keep going.”

  “I’m exhausted, too, but I feel like I might be too scared to sleep.”

  “We’re just going to have to try.” Rico stretched his elbows toward his back and yawned. “Tell you what, I’m going to find a back door and push the Harley around. We can store it inside. I don’t want to leave it out in the open.”

  “Okay.”

  Rico headed to a doorway with an ‘Employee’s Only’ sign above it. Angie followed closely behind.

  *

  Once the bike was safely stored away, the two walked to the back of the store where the pharmacy was located.

  Angie stepped behind the counter, turned, and faced Rico. “What kind of drugs are we looking for? Are there any drugs you’re allergic to?”

  “I don’t think I’m allergic to anything. Don’t really go to the doctor much since I got off my ADD medicine. If I get sick, I just take whatever the doctor gives me. Don’t pay much attention to what’s in the bottle,” Rico said, thinking for the first time that maybe bringing a junkie to a dru
g store probably wasn’t the brightest of ideas. “Something for pain. If I don’t get some relief soon, I think I’m going to pass out.”

  “How about something with opioids or NSAIDs? That should do the trick.” Angie turned and perused drug bottles lining the wall. She came to a stop, picked up a white container and shook it. “How much do you weigh?” She removed the top and poured a few into her hand.

  An insulated display that looked like a barrel had sodas floating in mostly melted ice. Rico reached in and grabbed a Big Red from the bottom—delighted it was still cold.

  “Honestly,” Rico said, popping open the can. “How do you even know what you’re looking at?”

  “My boyfriend… I mean, my ex-boyfriend, was a cook, remember?”

  Rico drank from the can and handed it to Angie. “I thought he was a pimp. He didn’t look like he had the brains to be a cook.”

  “Marcus had a cousin who was a pharmacist. His cousin taught him how to make meth—even helped with supplies when he could. Of course, Marcus had to give him a cut of the profits. Marcus isn’t as stupid as you think. He’s pretty smart. He just kinda loses his shit when he gets mad. He gets mad over money—and his women. You still didn’t answer the question.”

  “What was the question again? I keep trying to picture Marcus in a white lab coat mixing up drugs. All I get is Wile E. Coyote with a burnt face from exploding chemicals.”

  “How much do you fucking weigh? You want me to give you the correct dosage, don’t you?”

  Angie’s tone told him she wasn’t amused. It amazed Rico how people who suffered from abuse had some protective bond with their abuser. He had seen it firsthand way too many times when answering domestic disputes.

  “I’m glad you found something back there. I worried they might keep the pain meds locked under key. I’d take Advil or something if that’s all we had. I do feel like I need something stronger, just not too strong. I want to keep my wits about me.” Rico hobbled over to her with his drink in one hand and his other hand against his side. “I weigh a buck ninety.”

  “Then this should do the trick.” She handed him four small white pills.

  “You sure? This many?”

  “Uh, yeah. They’re for children and an adult dosage is four. I think I might take a few myself.”

  Rico popped the pills in his mouth and chased it down with a swallow of Big Red. He leaned against the counter, and said, “You need to be real careful about what you take. You don’t need to be treating this place like a candy store.”

  “What kind of person do you think I am?”

  “Really?”

  “I’ve got a problem. I admit it, okay? You don’t have to be so insensitive. Don’t worry, I’m not going to eat up all the meds when you’re not looking.” Angie stormed from behind the counter past him as she headed toward the restroom.

  He let her go by without protest. It would only make matters worse. Plus, he didn’t have the energy. He was starving, but at the moment felt too tired to eat. There was still a problem with the wide-ass open door in front. That was something that needed immediate attention.

  Rico turned around and leaned his back against the counter, taking in the lay of the store. There were sections in various aisles where items on the shelves were missing or upset. The cash registers in front were turned on their side and the drawers open. Funny, the cash registers at the pharmacy were untouched. Whoever broke in must have gotten all they could carry, or were spooked the hell out. The shelves in the liquor section were noticeably empty. Some items lay on the floor as if someone just walked by with their arm sticking out and knocked them off. A surprising numbers of shelves looked untouched.

  Rico walked toward the front, contemplating what to use to block the doorway. He came to the cold medicine aisle and looked across more empty shelves. Yep, the thieves were chefs who need ingredients for their next batch of goodies.

  At least there were basic medical supplies available. Rico thought, after he barricaded the door, he might try to wrap a bandage around his aching ribs. The crown to his back tooth was still in his pocket. He needed to find some superglue and cement it back on.

  One thing for sure, none of the undead had made it inside the building yet. No signs of struggle or blood anywhere. No spent bullet casings. Something did have the thieves’ hightailing it out before they were finished, though.

  There was a shit load of candy and gum for them to eat. There at least had to be something with better nutritional value—like nuts or something. The frozen food section should have something with meat, even if it was just pepperoni on a pizza. If the electricity held out long enough, they could use the microwave in the break room. All they needed was to lay low for a couple of days and heal a little before heading to Fort Hood.

  Rico sure as hell hoped their luck would hold out that long. He brought the can of Big Red up to his lips and threw his head back as he chugged the last bit down. That’s when his brain turned a double somersault and landed in a bowl of strawberry pudding.

  Angie walked from the back of the store toward him. The atoms making up her body moved around like busy bees on a honeycomb. “It’s getting dark. I take it the plan is to stay here tonight?”

  Rico nodded, rubbing his hand against his cheek. His head felt numb. It was his hand on his face, but it felt like someone else was touching him. Strange.

  “You okay?” Angie asked, stepping toward him, her words slurred and slowed in Rico’s mind. As if playing a record on its slowest setting, Angie said, “You feeling okay? You don’t look so…”

  Rico felt his knees buckle.

  The last thing that went through his mind before closing his eyes was that this crazy bitch drugged him. And for what—saving her life? Rico’s heart began to harden just a little bit more.

  Was there not anyone good left in the world?

  Chapter 17

  Rico awoke in a dark room with only a small glow of light on the wall near the ceiling providing illumination. What a surprise. His last thoughts placed him in the main area of the store and going weak in the knees. Angie had drugged him for some unknown reason.

  The back of his throat felt like it had been abraded by a sandstorm. Other than that and the aches and pains he had been living with, he was in decent shape. Angie had even been thoughtful enough to make his sleep more comfortable. A spongy pillow was under his head and a bed sheet of some type covered him.

  He sat up as his eyes adjusted to the light. A few bottles of water lay to one side next to his folded socks, boots, and belt. This had to be some back room in the store. Why would she bring him in here? Maybe he was now her prisoner.

  One thing at a time. He reached over and grabbed one of the water bottles. The top came off with a twist, and Rico gulped the entire thing down.

  The water was warm but not hot—at least it took care of the dry mouth. He popped open another bottle and took a few sips. Taking in the rest of the room, he surmised that he was in a storage room of some kind. A small slit of a window over his head on the far wall leaked in light. Shelves filled with cleaning supplies lined the walls on either side.

  Rico took in a deep breath and stretched out some of the soreness. His ribs didn’t feel much better, but at least his teeth didn’t hurt quite as badly as before. The water in his stomach churned and reminded him his belly was still empty.

  Patting at his midsection, he said aloud, “I could eat a horse and the rider.”

  “Angie?” he called out, without really expecting her to call back unless she was right there by the door.

  He called again.

  After a second attempt with no response, Rico put on his socks, boots, and belt and then he rose. Half expecting the storage room door to be locked from the other side, Rico reached out and hesitantly twisted the knob.

  It turned freely, and the door swung open.

  A few steps down the hall into the store had him right next to the weird machine that took pulse and blood pressure. That thing was about as u
seful as tits on a bull right now. It was daylight outside, but he had no real way of knowing what time or even day it was. He must have been out for a while, because Angie had apparently been busy. Some of the crap on the floor had been picked up, or shoved out of the way enough to clear the aisles. A good amount of supplies that would come in handy for the stay were stacked neatly over by the pharmacy counter. He guessed Angie wanted to stay close to the drugs. Bitch.

  That was the dilemma. Why in the hell did she drug him and then attempt to set up house? The girl didn’t sit on her ass popping pills while he was out. Most of the glass was swept out of the way by the front door. Displays and other items had been piled up to block the entrance.

  A warm breeze blew in from around the blockage with notes of ash and rotted meat that irritated his nostrils. For a moment, he thought he was going to dry heave.

  How that thin little woman had managed to move some of the things was beyond Rico’s imagination. Upon closer inspection, the array of junk merchandise, drink coolers, lawn chairs, small grills, and displays looked more substantial at stopping anyone from forcing their way in than perhaps they actually would be. Hopefully the makeshift wall would intimidate anyone or anything from trying.

  Rico called out again, stepping over toward the checkout counter, “Angie, you back there?”

  His peripheral caught movement from outside through an opening in the barricade right as the words left his mouth. “Oh, shit,” Rico whispered. A little voice inside told him he should have kept his voice lower. When he turned and peered through the opening, he regretted he had been right.

  A zombie loomed not far from the opening. Fortunately, its back was toward the entrance. Rico held his breath, anticipating the thing to turn around and follow his voice, but it didn’t. It just stood there, swaying back and forth, occasionally shifting its weight from one foot to the other. What the hell was wrong with it?

  He kept low and scanned the rest of what parts of the street he could see. So far, there was only that one zombie in sight. Although the sun was out, the sky looked cloudy. Some of the clouds were dark and gray enough to foreshadow rain.