Magic, Mystery & Zombies: YA starter set

by Elle Klass

  Bryce swallowed hard. “I can’t get hold of my mom either.”

  My eyes widened into cereal bowls. We were alone, alone in the world. “We need to make a stop soon too and load up on supplies. Mom’s been rationing everything and isn’t complaining but we’re getting low.”

  Jack snorted and asked, “How’s your dad?”

  The first time he asked we told him he was sore from the accident and suffering sea sickness. He cocked his head and arched his brows but seemed to accept it. Now he gave me a similar look as I responded, “He’s better but still weak.”

  “Hmm. We could use him, hope he’s over it soon.” Then he put his leg over the side and went down the stairs, leaving me and Bryce alone. Since we boarded the boat, with six of us and a cat, we hadn’t been alone at all.

  I sat beside him in the extra seat and propped my legs up. Darkness hung in the sky to the north. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Head south and hope to get close to Africa. The winds are giving us top speeds. Without weather or radar we can only assume the storm is coming from the US and heading east so if we continue south maybe we’ll miss it,” he stated, turning his head and gazing into my eyes.

  I shifted my gaze upwards and tilted my head back. “The storm looks like it’s coming from the north which means it’s heading south toward us.”

  He held his pointer finger in the air above his head. “The wind is blowing east.”

  I lifted the chain of the compass and peered at it then glanced at the strange sky again and tilted the compass so Bryce could see. “Then the storm is heading for us. There’s no way to escape it,” I said with a sigh, having no knowledge yet how small this boat really was in the huge Atlantic and how devastating a storm could be.

  He glanced at the compass then touched my hand. Changing the subject he asked, “How’s your dad really doing?”

  “About as good as the storm. His pulse has been steady at ten to fifteen beats a minute. His body is cold to the touch but staying at a steady sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. He has no color and is still drugged and tied. I don’t even know if it’s the drugs keeping him from turning completely or if his body is somehow finding a way to fight this,” I said with a long sigh.

  He wrapped his fingers around my hand and I wrapped mine around his as we stared into the dark sky above us. A tiny boat with six occupants, lost somewhere in the ocean, and a massive storm heading our way.

  “Did you get a chance to talk to your mom today?”

  “Nope, no service.”

  “How did we lose everything in a day and where did this zombie sickness come from? Why aren’t we affected?”

  He brushed a chunk of hair from his eyes. “I ask myself the same questions.”

  I shivered from the chilly wind the storm was bringing. He uncurled his fingers from mine and draped them around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I melted in that moment and hoped my mom didn’t come up the stairs.

  “Did I catch you at the wrong moment?” came a male voice and a maniacal chuckle. Maybe it wasn’t maniacal but just sounded that way to me as Jack stepped onto the top deck and joined us. The first large rain drop hit my head. Its cold tendrils rolled through my hair, taking a crooked path.

  Chapter Eight

  Over the next few hours the boat was tossed over the water’s surface and a huge wave nearly swallowed the lot of us. The boat sailed beneath its gigantic jaws as they closed above us. Jack steered the ship and we sailed across its tongue as if we were a surfer and came through the opening as its massive jaws clenched shut and sent us spiraling over the next waves. We managed to get the sails and masts down in enough time, but I worried as the waves pitched us across the ocean.

  A bout of nausea tried to sneak up on me, vomit resting in my throat, but I couldn’t be sick. So far the trip had been pleasant and, even though I lied to Jack, no one had suffered seasickness. Jack turned out to be great at steering us through the storm. At one point I held onto the rail, attempting to keep my dinner down, rain pelting on my head, and asked him where he learned to steer. He responded ‘the coast guard’; he’d spent twenty years with them. I think he said twenty, but it might have been something else, the pounding of torrential rain and smashing of waves rocking the creaking boat made communication difficult.

  After I stole back downstairs -- really I stumbled down the stairs -- the ferocious ocean tossing me into the cabin door which I grasped and turned, then literally fell down the steps. My mom standing at the bottom, her legs spread wide for balance and her hands on her hips. She glared at me. “I told you not to leave the cabin.”

  I gave her a quirky smile. “I uh…”

  She took her hands off her hips and placed a palm on the wall beside her for balance then handed me a small pinkish pill. “It’s a Dramamine. Take it; you’ll feel better.”

  Still on the floor by my mother’s feet I took the little pill, gathered up my saliva and forced it down with a ball of spit. “Thanks.”

  She offered me her hand and lifted. At that moment the boat hit a wave hard. The bow of Earnest Earl groaned as if it was about to split in two. My mom lost her balance and fell on top of me. Immediately she rolled off me and we shared a smile then crawled toward the sofa where Sarah sat with the cat. He was balled up in her lap with his head tucked beneath his body. I guess boats aren’t natural spaces for cats.

  I climbed onto the sofa and swept the curtain back, searching for any sign of Bryce, but didn’t see him. Rain beat so hard against the window it was impossible to see anything but the rivulets and splashes hitting the glass. I hoped he was OK. The three of us and the cat stayed huddled together on the sofa until the water calmed and the boat stopped rocking and swaying.

  The cabin door opened then and Bryce walked in. My heart pattered in happiness. He was alright, even though he was soaked from head to toe. His hair clung to his face and tendrils of water rushed over his wet body. I jumped off the sofa, feeling a bit guilty I was safe and dry, and grabbed him a towel. I wanted to pat his body down and strip the wet clothes off him but kept that little fantasy to myself as I tossed the towel nonchalantly at him.

  He patted his face. “Thanks, Zombie Girl. The worst of the storm is over. We’re in shallow water somewhere close to land, we think. We dropped the anchor and will check it out in the morning.”

  Jack walked into the cabin then and I saluted him. He saluted back. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

  “You two must be starved. Let me fix you a bite before you sleep,” offered my mom, jumping off the couch and rifling through the fridge.

  Jack nodded and grabbed a handful of dry clothes. He was about the same size as Dad so Mom had brought him a few of Dad’s things to wear. It wasn’t like Dad needed them right now. He slipped into the bathroom and Bryce into Sarah’s room. That’s where he kept his stuff, but slept on the sofa in the living room.

  All of us living this tight we learned to sleep through snoring and ignored the weird idiosyncrasies we each had such as Jack sounded like a jack-hammer when he slept and always rubbed his bald head as if he still had hair. Bryce always scraped silverware along his teeth when he ate and Sarah spent far too long in the bathroom.

  I snuck off to the bedroom and left everyone in the living and kitchen area. Dad lay on the bed. The pantyhose tie Mom used to keep him on the bed had ripped during the storm, but somehow Dad was still on the bed. I shrugged and checked the notepad. Mom last pumped muscle relaxers into him six hours ago so I took two more, noting two left in the bottle and crushed then stuffed them into my father’s mouth then poured water into it. Some trickled down his throat and a little trailed over the corners of his lips and down his chin. I watched the white pills dissolve with the water as he involuntarily swallowed them. After I closed his mouth I sank into the comfort of the trundle and drifted to sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Bright morning light streamed through the window. Not a sign that last night, between the ocean and storm, we almost died.

 
; I strolled onto the deck to survey the damage and heard voices. As I strode toward the voices something squished beneath my foot causing me to lose my balance and I slid forward into the railing. I glanced back and spotted the culprit -- a fish; its guts pushing out from beneath its scales. On close inspection it was dead -- dead as in dead, not zombified. His gills didn’t move at all. So fish could die. Maybe whatever the illness was it only affected humans. I grabbed a shovel and tossed his flattened, grotesque body back into the ocean.

  Finding the source of voices, it was Jack and Bryce, the sun reflecting off Jack’s bald head. The deck didn’t have any apparent damage, I noted as I looked around. I supposed they already cleaned it up. Their backs were to me as they stared ahead, their elbows resting on the side of the boat. I strolled behind them and pushed my way between them.

  “So what’s up? Earnest Earl sustain any damage?” I asked a moment too early; before us was land. Not island land but land as far as the eye could see -- beach and what looked like tiny little buildings.

  “Where are we?” I corrected.

  Bryce shrugged. “The boat is fine. It’s a seaworthy beast but we lost navigation completely. Your guess is good as mine, but I think Africa. Morocco maybe.”

  My mouth gaped open.

  “Let’s eat and go,” stated Jack firmly while glancing at Bryce. They’d become pretty cozy lately and that worried me. I also didn’t like being ignored and was darn good at slaying zombies.

  “I’m coming with,” I stated matter-of-factly as I followed them inside. Besides food, we needed medicine for my dad too, but I didn’t mention that.

  Jack shrugged. “You have skill, we can use you,” he said as he walked to the kitchen, pulled a mug from the cabinet, and poured coffee.

  Within the hour we checked the lifeboat for damage and verified it was seaworthy. Boarding the tiny vessel we were soon on it, paddling to the shore line, and pulling the boat onto the sandy shore. We left my mom and Sarah onboard the boat. So far, we hadn’t seen a soul in the water and were pretty sure there was no one else out there.

  I grabbed my ax in one hand, Bryce hauled his head-chopping shovel, and Jack carried the rifle which I thought was stupid. Once it ran out of ammo, which had to be loaded, it would only serve as a blunt, thunking weapon when using the butt to give the blow.

  I grabbed my knife just in case. We padded through the sand, our ears on alert, but heard nothing except the gentle rhythm of the surf. We made it further onshore to a street filled with shops; none were open. That wasn’t a good sign. However, still no zombies.

  Jack, who was in the lead, put his hand up for us to stop then he pointed to his ear and towards a shop to our left. He side-walked, holding his rifle out towards the building. On the other side a face pushed against it, bloodied, and dragged itself along the window, leaving a crimson streak. Jack, who wasn’t as brave as he thought, jumped back and screamed like a girl. Soon enough the shuffling started. Drip drag, drip drag.

  I was grateful they weren’t any faster here in Africa. No, I scanned the store signs and recognized Playa. We were in Spain? How the… my thought was cut off as the first zombie reached us. Its jaw missing a chunk so its tongue hung from the side of its mouth. It jerked and stumbled towards us, the one at the window still scraping and clawing to get out and eat us up. After the zombie dropped from Bryce’s leg to its chest he thrust the shovel into its neck and twisted.

  I jumped in as three more headed our way. Their bodies spasming as they jerked forward. “Shoot them,” I called to Jack as I thrust the hatchet into an old woman’s brainstem. She had bites all over her face which made me realize that all the zombies we’d seen thus far had more than one bite. I didn’t know how or if that meant anything.

  I spun and took down another, then glanced at Jack through my peripheral vision. He stood frozen to the ground as if a statue. “Jack!” I called, running towards him as a dark-haired man with a blood covered Speedo and several chest bites cocked his head to sink his teeth in. Yuck! His wrinkled, ashy skin hung in globs around the white band of the Speedo. I didn’t trust Jack for an unknown reason, maybe it was how we met. It didn’t matter; he was still alive and not becoming a zombie today!

  I kicked the dark-haired man in the ribs and he stumbled backwards and dropped, then I snatched Jack’s gun from his hands and smashed the zombie’s head until his brains coated the ground. I grabbed Jack by the arm and shook. “You were almost zombie food!”

  “What?” he asked, half dazed.

  I wondered how he survived the coast guard as I shoved the rifle back into his hands. “Use this to shoot them in the head.”

  He nodded in response as I swung my ax and caught the topless woman behind me in the neck, dropping her to the ground. Her head attached by jagged threads as blood pooled beside her.

  I turned my ax at the ready, searching for more, but we cleared them, the ones in the streets anyways. The ones in the buildings pawed at the glass, trying to get to us.

  “Were not in Africa, but that’s good because I can read some Spanish. That store over there is the US equivalent to a Jiffy store on the beach,” I said, ax in hand as I led the group.

  We stopped in front of the store and Bryce spoke, “Jack, you alright? We can’t have you freezing up. We need you.”

  Jack nodded and nervously switched the rifle to his other hand. “I won’t. I don’t know what happened but I’m here now.”

  “I’ll go in first; Zombie Girl, you come in after me. Jack, while we’re clearing the front, you check the back,” he paused for a second. “All you have to do is shoot their heads or jam the butt into their faces. They go down easy.”

  At that moment I felt bad for Jack. It was the second time I’d had sympathy for the man. I noted that as Bryce went inside to the left and I followed on his heels to the right. We swung and chopped while Jack went between us directly to the back.

  A loud boom rang through my ears as he fired the rifle. The front zombies cleared, I ran to the back with Bryce beside me. A large man with raw meat in his hands and face lay in a heap on the floor, next to him was the site of the raw meat.

  “H-e-l-p,” said a tiny voice from the source of the large zombie man’s snack. A girl, no older than me, dragged herself towards us with her only arm. The other had clearly been pulled from its socket. Only strips of bloody flesh and muscle hung from her shoulder. My heart was drawn to her, but with the multiple bites, missing body parts and a chunk of face flesh that included her right ear torn from her she would be a zombie in a matter of time.

  I knew what we had to do even though none of us wanted to do it. Our eyes shifted from one to the next and then back to her as she reached her one good arm upward, her head falling against the cement stock room floor.

  I pulled the knife out of my pocket. It was the best weapon for this compassion killing. I walked towards her, knife in my shaky hand. Bryce grabbed my wrist with one hand. “I’ll do it,” he offered.

  Sniffling a little, I handed him the knife. He quickly jabbed it upward into the girl’s neck beneath the hairline. My suppressed tears snuck to the corners of my eyes and fell over my cheeks. Bryce wiped the knife and handed it back to me. A single, sexy man tear dropped from his eye. I adored sensitive men. How sensual!

  Without words, we dragged the bodies outside because they reeked like the rotten flesh that they were. The big guy took all three of us. I turned to go back into the store and from the corner of my eye I spotted something moving. I whipped myself around to see a bottle had rolled out of the big man’s pocket. A little medicine bottle; my Spanish wasn’t good enough to read what it was for so I picked it up and stuffed it into my pocket and it gave me another idea.

  I went through all their pockets and personal items looking for anything of value. That sounded pretty stupid since I didn’t think anything had any real value in the zombie world except life. However, a couple gold rings, a few colorful euros, and two bottles of medication might add up to something, somewhere alon
g the way.

  Bryce and Jack were already collecting boxes and stuffing them with canned and boxed goods, shampoo, soap, water bottles, toilet paper, and anything else we thought we could use. I went up and down every aisle searching for any kind of medication but came up empty - not a single bottle of aspirin, ibuprofen - not even cough syrup. It puzzled me. Did grocery stores in other countries not have pharmaceuticals? I let the thought go. I’d keep my eyes peeled for a pharmacy.

  Jack made himself useful and found a flatbed. He rolled it towards us. Its wheels creaking as they moved. “That doesn’t look too sturdy,” said Bryce as he walked towards it and took the handle, rolling it to and fro.

  “I can fix it up. Beats walking it all by hand,” countered Jack. “Help me turn it upside down. I saw some tools under the front counter.”

  I sat on a box and popped open a water bottle, nearly guzzling the whole thing at once.

  “Thirsty,” chuckled Bryce, “can you hand me one… please?” He sat on another box and stretched his long legs.

  “Break time?” questioned Jack as he returned with a small box in his hands.

  “Yup,” I said, grabbing a bag of chips and pulling it open, “we killed the zombies, you get the cart.”

  “Deal,” Jack said with a smile. It was the first time I’d seen him smile and at that moment I started to like him.

  About thirty minutes later, Bryce jumped in and helped Jack with the cart. I took the liberty of stretching my legs and walked around the small store. I felt like a mall walker, one of the old people that stroll the mall every morning. Every mall in the US had some. I reached the frozen section and longed for the cool, smooth yet sweet taste of ice cream but what was there wasn’t ice cream and it wasn’t frozen anymore. The contents of flan and other delicious Spanish deserts spilled from their packages and pooled in the bottom.

  My mouth watered as my mind envisioned a chocolate shake with milk chocolate drizzled on top and whipped cream piled so high it dribbled around the glass holding it. A loud, shrill screech brought my mind back from milkshake heaven and made me jump.