Zombie Attack! Box Set (Books 1-3)

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Zombie Attack! Box Set (Books 1-3) Page 6

by Devan Sagliani


  Chapter Six

  I was in the darkness, surrounded by hissing demons. I could smell them, but not see them. I could feel the dread they inspired, an irrational fear that climbed up inside of me and grew like a weed until it overwhelmed me. I was afraid to move, afraid I’d give them a direction to lunge toward. But I was also afraid not to move, knowing that if I didn’t do something to get away they would eventually find me.

  Zombies don’t sleep. They don’t get tired. They just keep coming until they get you. You cannot reason with them. You can’t plead with them. All you can do is run.

  My legs felt like they were made out of lead. I could feel the sweat trickling down my back. I could hear my own shallow breathing, but it sounded like it was coming from somewhere else outside of me.

  Something slithered through the darkness like a snake, only bigger and heavier. Every muscle in my body tensed up as I prepared for an attack of some kind. I felt a hand wrap itself around my right ankle, like an iron shackle, cold and hard. Electricity shot through me as a wave of panic crashed over me. Another hand wrapped around my calf, cold and unyielding, while the noise of a large creature dragging itself toward me intensified. The scraping across the ground sounded like mountains of sandpaper scratching inside my mind.

  Searing pain shot through me and I screamed as the zombie bit deep into the back of my leg. It was a crawler. I looked down to see tiny little zombie Sam staring up at me, blood pouring out of his mouth from the wound he’d just left in my leg. He was still in one piece but his legs didn’t seem to be working. He hissed at me and stared with dead eyes, like a large snake.

  Looking up, I saw zombies coming out of the dark mist on all sides. I was surrounded completely. There was no way out! I looked back down just in time to see Sam biting back into my leg. I screamed as loud as I could, filling my lungs with air several times in a row and yelling some more until I was hoarse. This was it for me. I was a goner now. They were going to tear me to shreds and there was nothing I could do about it!

  I shot up, panting and sweating. I was in a soft bed under covers. There was a poster of Felicity James, the child celebrity turned reality star, staring down at me from above the bed. Before Z-Day I used to think about her all the time, but having the dead reanimate and try to kill you tends to change your priorities.

  Where am I?

  For a minute I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. I pulled back the covers to examine my leg. It was fine. I noticed a scratchy tag had been scraping me in the same place I’d been bitten in my nightmare.

  Am I dead? I thought. Or better yet, maybe all this zombie stuff was just a bad dream. But this isn’t my room. Where am I?

  I got up and looked out the window, surprised for a moment to realize I was dressed in pajamas. Pieces of the previous night were coming back to me: the walk, the guns, and getting in the back of the truck. I pulled the shades to reveal a suburban neighborhood. Bright sun beamed down on rows of identical homes with well-manicured lawns. Armed guards in khaki uniforms roamed the streets. They were the only indication that anything was off and not like it used to be before Z-Day.

  Where’s my sword? Panic shot through me. I didn’t like being unarmed. One thing I’d learned since the end of the world was that it was better to have a weapon and not need one than need one and not have it. Moto said that’s an old cliché, but to be honest I didn’t recall ever hearing it before things went bad. Maybe it’s just universal wisdom. Who’s to say what’s old and what’s new now that the world as we know it was over?

  I scoured the room for my katana but came up short in my search. I did find my clothes at the foot of the bed. Someone had washed them, folded them, then set them in a neat pile for me. They were still warm to the touch. They smelled like fabric softener.

  Maybe it was the same person who changed you into pajamas while you were sleeping, I thought. At least they hadn’t changed my underwear. It was unnerving to think I had been so exhausted that I slept right through it. I didn’t like being at the mercy of other people, much less being completely helpless in front of total strangers.

  You need to pull it together. Remember your training.

  Cautiously, I cracked open the door and looked out. I could hear people walking around downstairs, glasses clinking, women laughing. Then it hit me full in the face—the smell of someone cooking breakfast. It was like a dream come true. I opened the door and walked out: down the steps, past the living room and into the kitchen. A large, older woman in an apron was cooking scrambled eggs in a cast iron skillet. On the table was orange juice, milk, a pile of buttered toast, and a plate overflowing with bacon. I could feel myself salivating and my stomach gave a loud rumble in response. The woman turned to me and smiled.

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” she said in a chipper tone. “Glad to see you’re up.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re in the safe zone in New Lompoc. You were out cold when the men got back last night. At first I was afraid of waking you up. By the time I got you changed and into bed I realized that wasn’t going to be a problem.”

  So she was the one who put me in these pajamas, I thought. I was grateful it hadn’t been one of the guys from the truck. There was a motherly quality about this woman that seemed to make it less embarrassing.

  “I’d ask you how you slept but I already know,” she continued. “Whole house could hear you snoring up until about twenty minutes ago.”

  God I hope I wasn’t screaming in my sleep, I thought.

  I didn’t know why but I wanted this woman to like me. She had a kindness that hung over her like grace. She wiped her hands on her apron as she took the eggs off the stove.

  “My name is Carol.”

  “I’m Xander,” I said. She stuck out her hand and I shook it.

  “Nice to meet you, Xander.”

  “How many people live here?”

  “Usually not more than the three of us,” she said, nodding her head toward the door where the two other women who had congregated to eavesdrop on us quickly scattered. One of them was around my age and cute as hell. She had soft brown eyes like melted caramel and long auburn hair tied back in a ponytail. She had lingered just long enough to make eye contact with me before vanishing into the house. “But on special occasions, when we rescue a group of kids off the highway, the number goes up a little bit.”

  I stood there staring at the food.

  “You hungry?”

  “Yes ma’am.” I could barely control myself. The smell of the bacon was driving me mad. I hadn’t had anything remotely as good as bacon since weeks before I saw my first zombie.

  “Go ahead and dig on in,” she said. “Eat as much as you like. Everyone else has already had their fill.”

  I sat down and began to tear into the bacon with both hands, shoveling it into my mouth. It was delicious. My fingers and tongue burned a little from the hot grease. Carol laughed.

  “Slow down and chew your food now,” she said softly. “You’re going to choke to death.”

  Ignoring her, I shoved a full piece of toast into my mouth. I poured a glass of orange juice and downed it in a single gulp. The sugary sweetness hit me like a jolt. I could feel the life returning to me. Carol brought the cast iron skillet over and scooped a hearty serving of cheesy scrambled eggs onto my plate.

  “Thank you,” I managed in between bites.

  “You are welcome,” she said, smiling. “We’re glad to have you here. We can use all the help we can get.”

  “Where are my friends?”

  “The little one slept here last night.”

  “Benji?”

  “That’s the one.” She nodded. “The twins stayed down the road.”

  “Where did Benji go?”

  “John came for him this morning,” Carol replied. “Benji wanted to check out the neighborhood and John said he’d take him around. I believe they’re at his house now.”

  “Which one is John’s house?”

  “It’s
just down the block and around the corner,” she explained. “Third house on the left. You can see for yourself when you’re done getting cleaned up. I know John wants to talk to you. He was asking about you this morning before he took Benji on their walkabout.”

  Suddenly I didn’t feel so hungry anymore. I didn’t know why but the way she said it made me nervous, like a kid being told he has detention. There was something about John I didn’t trust, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. After all, he had saved us the night before. He’d given us safe passage into a dangerous town. He had given us a place to sleep, food, water . . . what was not to like about this guy? Still, I knew I had to trust my instincts. They’d kept me alive so far while a whole lot of people I knew had died. That had to be worth something.

  “Where is my sword?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” she said, turning away and cleaning a dish. “You will have to ask John.”

  I pushed my plate away defiantly.

  “You finished eating so soon?” Carol turned back toward me.

  I nodded in reply. They had no right to disarm me. My katana was a part of me. The thought of someone else touching it made me uncomfortable down to my core.

  “Poor thing,” she cooed, touching my face. “You just ate too fast, that’s all. You probably haven’t had food this rich in some time. The way you were shoveling it in, I’m surprised you didn’t get sick.”

  There was no malice in her tone, only motherly concern.

  “You’re right,” I lied. “It’s been a while since I had any real food, much less bacon.”

  “That’s all right. You go on up and take a nice hot shower,” she said in a soft voice, taking the plate away from in front of me.

  “You have actual hot water?”

  I couldn’t hide my surprise. I hadn’t taken a hot shower since before I got to Vandenberg. The base only had group showers, like something out of physical education back in high school. We took turns with the girls. The girls always went first. Some days the water was lukewarm, but most days it was just a few degrees above ice cold.

  “You take as long as you need.” Carol smiled. “When you’re all dressed and ready, come back down and I’ll tell you how to get to John’s.”

  I stood up and walked out of the room in a state of near shock. My feet carried me back upstairs. I went into the room and found my freshly washed clothes on top of my now made up bed. Without questioning it, I picked them up and marched off to the bathroom, locking myself inside and turning on the water. Sure enough, hot water flooded out, steaming up the room quickly. I undressed and got under the beaded stream. Within seconds I felt like I was melting away. The pure pleasure of that shower was so decadent I felt a pang of guilt shoot through me. I could still taste the bacon in my mouth. What was this place? Hotel California?

  I didn’t get out right away. After all I had been through, the least I could do was enjoy one moment of peace and happiness. I sat under the water and let it run over my body for a long time, clearing my mind of all thoughts.

  When I came out of the bathroom, fully washed and in clean clothes, I could honestly say I felt like a changed man. For the first time in a long time, I had a belly full of good food. For the first time in a long time, I was clean. For the first time in a very long time, I felt fully human.

  I put the pajamas back on the bed in a neat pile then bounded downstairs. Carol was just finishing up dishes in the kitchen.

  “Thank you so much for the wonderful breakfast,” I said politely, finally finding my manners again. I looked down at my hands, surprised not to find dirt beneath the nails.

  “You are very welcome,” she said pleasantly. “You ready to take a walk then?”

  Carol gave me a long, thorough description of how to get to John’s, then wrote down his address for me on a scrap of paper for good measure. I walked out the front door, feeling three sets of eyes on my back even though I’d only seen one. I was curious about that cute girl, but I didn’t bother to turn and look back. There were far more pressing issues at hand.

  Walking down the street felt surreal. Armed guards paced up and down the concrete with automatic rifles and dark sunglasses, ignoring me. It reminded me of pictures I had seen of Israel back when I was still in school.

  I wouldn’t want to get on their bad side, I thought, feeling the hair on the back of my neck involuntarily stand on end.

  Other than that, things looked eerily normal—as in pre-Zombie normal. There wasn’t a biter in sight. I should have felt relaxed but I didn’t. A knot of muscles in my stomach contracted as I rounded the corner, passing a beautiful garden in someone’s front yard, and headed down to John’s.

  I looked at the slip of paper in my hand, then back up at the house and laughed. There was no way in hell anyone could mistake this place for anything but John’s place. Armed guards were posted in front of the residence as well as across the street. Two more guards stood watch at the door. I easily walked past the first set of guards, but was stopped by the guys blocking the front entrance.

  “Name?” One of them barked at me.

  You’ve got to be kidding, I thought. Like anyone here doesn’t know who I am by now? Apparently John had a flare for the dramatic.

  “Name?” he said again, growing more impatient, if that was possible.

  “Xander Macnamara,” I muttered through clenched teeth. Nothing happened for a minute, then both men stepped aside. “Hell of a way to greet people.”

  “John is waiting for you up in his office,” the guard answered, ignoring my taunt. “Go straight on up.”

  I stepped into the house and the door shut behind me, making me feel more and more like a prisoner. The place wasn’t all that different than the last house I had been in. The kitchen and living room were on the opposite side, but I had a feeling that when I got upstairs I would find two bedrooms and a bathroom, just like where I’d woken up. I heard what sounded like a video game going off in the other room. It all felt so familiar.

  Cautiously, I approached the room and saw a big flat screen television nearly the size of the wall. On it, Mario and Yoshi were flying through a rainbow star.

  “Awesome!” a small voice said from somewhere among the cushions. That could only be one person.

  “Benji?” I walked around the sofa to find him sitting in a pile of comic books with the Wii controller in his hands and a half chewed piece of red licorice sticking out of his mouth. He hit pause the second he recognized me.

  “Xander!” He jumped up and gave me a welcoming hug.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You fell asleep last night in the truck,” Benji said. “I guess the shock of it all just knocked you out.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck.

  “John brought us back here and dropped us off,” he explained. “He came by this morning, but you were still sleeping. He said you needed your rest and not to bug you.”

  “A woman at the house told me that John has been taking you around, showing you stuff. What has he been saying?”

  “You mean Carol?” Benji asked.

  I nodded, impatient for his answer.

  “Isn’t she great?” he continued. “And who ever thought I’d get to have fresh squeezed orange juice again in my life? And bacon? Did you get to have some of the bacon or was it all gone by the time you got up?”

  “I had the bacon,” I assured him. “It was good. Now spill. What does John want?”

  “Nothing.” Benji shrugged. “So far as I can tell. He drove me around and told me about the boundaries and which parts of the city the Unity Gang has already captured. Most of it is over to the west of here. Oh, and he took me to an old comic book store and stood guard while I scoured for some new stuff. I got an original Spiderman in pristine condition! I know you have no idea what that means, but it is a big deal. Well it would be a big deal, if anything still mattered in the world, but it’s still a big deal to me!”

  I hadn’t seen Benji talk t
his much since the base. I know it’s petty, but a small part of me resented John for that as well.

  “Where are the twins?”

  “They slept on the other side of Ocean Boulevard,” Benji said. “This street is for VIPs and stuff like that. John called it the Command Center. He says the twins were over in the soldiers housing.”

  “So you haven’t actually seen them?” I asked. “He just told you?”

  “Well, I watched as we dropped them off last night while you were sleeping,” Benji said, a note of sarcasm infecting his words. “But I haven’t seen them since then. No.”

  “What did John say about me?”

  “He talked a lot about you,” he said excitedly. “I think he really likes you. He asked all sorts of questions about you and your training and all about your brother.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Not much. Truth is, I don’t know much. All I know is the stuff about you looking out for me at the base. John said he thinks you are a natural born leader, a protector. That’s what he called you.”

  “He did?” I didn’t mean to sound so shocked. I just hadn’t expected flattery. Was I becoming so jaded that I couldn’t trust anyone anymore? This guy took us in and looked after us, but I was still looking for something wrong with him, some reason not to trust or like him. Maybe I was wrong.

  Give him the benefit of the doubt, I thought, relaxing a little again. If only for the hospitality he’s shown you, the hot shower, and the delicious bacon.

  “It’s just like you said it would be.” Benji smiled. “They’re taking back the city one block at a time. Once they get Lompoc turned around they plan on taking on other towns, cleaning them up too.”

  I was glad to see Benji happy again, even if I didn’t know how long it was going to last this time.

 

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