Living Dead (Book 1): When The World Flipped (For The Living & The Dead)

by Volante, KT

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, the box truck went out with high hopes. Sid and I left mid-morning in the van.

  “Sid,” I said, “according to the map, we can drive through this park and avoid downtown streets. Make the next right turn.”

  We entered the park. LDs were wandering through the park. Sometimes as many as a dozen in a group. Soon we came upon a small camp under a picnic gazebo. There were rolled up tarps on the sides, which we imagined were lowered in the evening. Inside were two propane barbecue grills with numerous tanks scattered in the grassy area around the gazebo. Multiple wires with tin cans were tied around trees about eight to ten feet from the gazebo. It was someone’s version of a home security system—simple but effective.

  A child, maybe eleven or twelve, sat at the table alone. I would be surprised if he had done all of this. I was worried he was alone.

  I still had nightmares about the children in the school playground when we took Patricia to look for Jeremiah and Calley. I prayed most of those children were still alive, but I knew they were likely either dead or LDs.

  Sid slowed down the van.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  I looked at him, but I didn’t know what to do.

  Then I said. “Slow down and wave; friendly people wave. If he doesn’t wave back, then we won’t stop. If he waves, we can stop and chat. He may be just fine. His people may be out and about.”

  “Fine? Living in a gazebo with no walls is fine? Maybe they should put up a sign, ‘Free BBQ.’ I’m sure some LDs would love to visit. If the LDs don’t get them, the weather sure will,” he said in a worried tone.

  “Let’s just wave for now.”

  The young boy saw us and started to wave. We waved back.

  “Stop the van. I’ll get out. A female is less threatening than a man. If this goes south, don’t wait for me get out of here,” I said.

  I heard Sid’s mumble and then he grinned as I got out of the van.

  I walked from the van toward the boy—not too fast and not close enough to be a threat.

  “Hi there. I’m Lacey.”

  “I’m Simon. So good to see other people.”

  He walked toward me and stopped a few feet from the wire.

  Simon was thin like the rest of us, with curly brown hair.

  “Hmmm, are you here alone?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  I nodded again.

  “Good, good.”

  I couldn’t think of anything else to say except, “Okay, well, we are on a supply run. We’ll pass this way again. If any of you want to talk with us, that would be great. I guess we’ll be back in a few hours.”

  I laughed to myself and thought, You want us to pick something up for you? I slowly walked back to the van.

  “And?” Sid motioned his hand in a big circle to tell me to explain more.

  I drew a deep breath. “Let’s get to the store. Return home this way. If the others are there, we talk. If not, we go home.”

  “Since they know we’re going on a supply run and returning this way, any concerns for a trap?”

  His voice got louder as the words came out of his mouth.

  I made a funny face. “Yeah, I did set us up for a trap, didn’t I? They’ll expect us to be heading back on this road. What if we circle around and come into the park again like we are now? That may give us an edge.”

  * * *

  The store was small and had very little. Other survivors had cleaned it out. If all these stores are this empty, I thought, there must be a lot more survivors. I don’t think the number of empty stores equals the number of survivors we have met.

  * * *

  We drove the long way around the park and entered it as we had before. We saw a man with a rifle and a young woman with a pistol. Simon was under the picnic table. Neither of us saw anything in the surrounding woods. We drove up, and both of us got out of the van.

  “We just want to say hi. Like Simon said, it’s nice to see others!” I yelled. Then added, “We mean you no harm.”

  Sid started to walk away from me. I looked at him and ever so slightly moved my head to instruct him to move closer to me. I didn’t want this guy to think we were splitting up.

  The man with the rifle nodded. He was handsome and in his late thirties, muscular. I guess we had all developed muscles since The Flip.

  The woman was young, maybe twenty. She had long blonde hair and was thin, but her clothes didn’t hang off her like ours did. She must have been slender before The Flip. She had a nice smile.

  “You got supplies we can trade for?” the man asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, what do you have to trade?”

  He spoke in a no-nonsense, but not harsh, tone. There was something about him that I immediately liked. I felt good about him.

  The young woman whispered something I could not hear.

  “We have some clothes—fit her. We’re willing to trade for food.”

  I thought, Sid was right; they are barely getting by.

  “Well, we can use clothes, but I don’t think I could fit into her size.”

  Their heads dropped.

  “But we have more people at our home who might fit into those clothes.”

  “More people?” he said.

  “Yup; we’ve been meeting people and joining together. How many are you?”

  “Only the three of us. Would you consider letting us join you?”

  I smiled. “Yes, we would.”

  It didn’t take long for them to pack their things in their truck.

  “We could really use those barbecue grills,” said Sid.

  * * *

  They followed us home. Once we had driven inside the compound, everyone came out.

  Mother asked, “Did you find them in a store?”

  She pointed to our new friends.

  “No, we met them on our way to the store,” said Sid. “This is Tom, Rachael, and Simon.”

  “Mother, look; they brought their grills,” I said, pointing.

  “No more cooking in the fireplace!”

  “Mother is our chef,” I told them. “Yes, Mother is her name. The other intros can wait until supper. Brittany, you and I will show our new friends to the bedrooms. Luke, Jeff, can you bring their supplies inside?”

  As we stepped inside, I made more introductions. “Brittany, this is Tom, Simon, and Rachael, and this is Brittany. Kids, would you show Simon around?”

  “Sure!” said Jeremiah.

  Simon was happy to see other kids.

  I turned back and continued, “We’re a friendly bunch, so don’t be afraid to ask questions. We’re also pretty upfront and blunt. We found this compound about a week ago, so we’re still fixing things up. It was a temple of some kind. Upstairs are classrooms we made into bedrooms.”

  Tom and Rachael just nodded.

  “Overwhelming?” I asked.

  They nodded again.

  We walked into the women’s bedroom.

  “The kids are still a little scared at night,” Brittany explained. “When they sleep next to us, they’re better. We’re hoping to get more mattresses soon.”

  “We’ve been sleeping on the cement floor in a sleeping bag. Sleeping indoors is better,” Rachael said with a smile.

  Tom and I walked down the hall into a men’s bedroom.

  “Here’s the men’s bedroom. Same set up.”

  Tom put his and Simon’s sleeping bags down.

  “This is good,” he said, nodding. “Thank you.”

  “We have camping lanterns up here. It gets hot up here so we keep the windows open. When the windows are open, don’t turn on any lights or use them only if needed. As you know lights, noise, and smells attract the LDs.”

  “LDs?”

  I giggled and explained it to Tom.

  Simon and Jeremiah ran up the stairs to us.

  “Supper’s ready. Tom, it’s pretty good here,” said Simon.
r />   “Lacey,” said Jeremiah, “the other kids and I took Simon around the compound and explained everything to him.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  Our family had just grown by three.

  Chapter Eight

  Luke’s group returned with two solar-powered panels. Luke explained that the solar power charges a battery. Once connected to the building’s electrical panel, we would have electricity.

  “Tom, Jeff, and Betty, would you go out on a supply run tomorrow?”

  Jeff shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Tom, up for a supply run?”

  Tom chuckled. “It’s been a few days since I made a run, but I think I remember how to do it.”

  “Tomorrow, Sid, Brittany, and I will go out to search for more solar-powered panels.”

  * * *

  It was early morning when both groups left. Before The Flip, the solar-panel signs seemed to be all over, but we drove around for hours without seeing one.

  “Maybe we’ll have more luck in towns,” I suggested.

  We headed toward the nearest town and, within a few miles, saw a sign. We had just gotten out of the box truck and started to get it ready to move when we heard someone calling us.

  “Hello! Hello! Can you help us?”

  We searched for this voice. Then we spotted someone on the third floor of a brick building.

  “I’ll go and check it out,” I said.

  I raised my gun and walked cautiously toward the building.

  “Don’t shoot me!” the young woman yelled.

  Frustrated, I yelled back, “Quiet!”

  I stopped, listened for noises, and took a deep breath. Nothing. I started to walk again and entered the grounds through an old broken-down gate. I stood under the window and said, in the quietest voice she would hear and hopefully the LDs wouldn’t, “First, noise attracts those things, so unless you’re on fire, inside voice please.”

  “Sorry. We’re scared and hungry. We haven’t seen anyone or eaten for a very long time.”

  “How many are you? Are the other floors empty?” I asked.

  She looked into the room; then turned to me.

  “There’s one of them on the first floor. As we ran up here, we closed and locked the doors behind us.”

  “Ok, anyone hurt? Do you have any guns?”

  Shocked at the questions, her hands went to her throat.

  “Heavens, no; we don’t have any weapons. No one hurt, but we are hungry.”

  “I’m going inside. No yelling.”

  “But there is—”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll be fine. No noise.”

  I walked to the front of the building. A sign on the building read St. Martha’s Convent.

  “You gotta be kidding me!” I muttered under my breath.

  Slowly, I opened the screen door. It squeaked like it hadn’t been used in years. I listened for noise. Nothing. I turned the doorknob and gently pushed it open—another squeak. I said to myself, “Serves me right to get bitten.” But I couldn’t leave these people here. The door opened to a sitting room with a small overturned table and three chairs. Books and papers were scattered on the floor. When I took a deep breath, the LD smell was strong. I stepped into the next room, a kitchen, and heard LD growls. I gasped when I saw this LD. He wore a priest collar. He was tall and thin. I took the broom that rested against the wall and pushed him against the same wall. With my knife, I ended his life as an LD. I took the tablecloth off the kitchen table and covered him. I slowly walked up the first flight of stairs. Not that I didn’t trust the woman, but other LDs could have entered the building without her knowing it. The door to the second floor was locked, so I banged on it.

  “Hello. It’s me. Open the door. It’s safe.”

  I heard footsteps, but the door didn’t open.

  “If you want my help, you need to open the door,” I said in a calm voice.

  I heard whispers and then the lock turned. The door opened a crack, enough to see one eye.

  “Hi, I’m Lacey. It’s safe. Open the door.”

  The door opened wide and there stood three women of various ages in the same mid-calf black skirt, a white button-down shirt, a black sweater, a black veil, and a very large wooden cross necklace.

  “Hello,” I said. “Is everyone okay?”

  They looked at each other, and then the youngest walked over to me.

  “Do you have any food, water?”

  “Let me go to the window and signal my friends. They’ll bring some.”

  They nodded and I walked to the window. I found paper and a marker. I wrote in big letters, “Bring food and water.” I waved toward Sid and Brittany. They saw the sign, walked to the van, and then toward the building.

  “How long have you been up here?” I asked the women.

  “Weeks, we think. We started to bring food and water up here when Father Johnson fell down the stairs. He was hurt. Father was so heavy we couldn’t carry him upstairs, so he stayed on the couch in the living room. We took care of him, but he wasn’t getting better. Then we heard him growl, and he looked so gray and strange. We knew he had become one of them. We ran up here and locked the doors on the second floor. We hoped he couldn’t break the door down.”

  “So he wasn’t bitten or scratched by another one of those things?”

  “No. He fell down the stairs.”

  “Interesting. We know people become one of those things if bitten. But now you are telling me people change when they die. I have to tell Jeff this,” I said.

  Just then, we heard footsteps downstairs.

  “That must be my friends. Let’s go downstairs,” I said.

  The younger nun stepped forward.

  “Ask them to come up here please. We don’t want to go downstairs.”

  “Okay.”

  I walked down to the top of the stairs and said, “Sid, Brittany, up here.”

  Sid carried the water, Brittany the food. The nuns ran toward them and reached for the food and water.

  The oldest nun said, “We thank you, Father, for the help you have sent us and the food to nourish us.”

  The nuns said “Amen” in unison.

  They tore into the food.

  “Slow down; there’s enough for all of you,” said Sid.

  After a few bites, the oldest nun instructed the youngest to bring food to Sister Agatha.

  “Is Sister Agatha hurt or sick?” I asked, very worried.

  “No, just old,” said the oldest nun.

  I looked at Sid and Brittany.

  “Is the solar panel loaded into the van?”

  “Yup,” Brittany said. “And we should think of getting out of here.”

  “Are they coming with us?” asked Sid.

  “We can’t leave them here. They can’t survive on their own. They’re starving.”

  I turned to the nuns. “Ladies, I mean Sisters, this is Sid and this is Brittany. We’re part of a larger group. It’s safer where we live than it is here. We have food and water. You can join us. It’s getting late and we have to leave, but it’s your choice.”

  The youngest looked at the other nuns. One nodded and said, “We have to discuss this.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay, but don’t take long. We can’t stay much longer.”

  They walked off and whispered.

  Sid looked around. “Nuns? You found nuns?” He chuckled.

  “Hmm. Yeah, I guess I did.”

  I walked over to the nuns. “Sisters, we have to go. It’s not safe here. If you want to come with us, we’re happy to have you; if not, we’re leaving.”

  “Can we bring our things?” asked the young one.

  “What are your names?”

  “I’m Sister Bernadette. This is Sister Margaret and Sister Frances. We are Sisters of Mercy. Sister Agatha is in the bedroom.”

  “You may bring clothing, medicines. Remember, we have to fit it in the truck. If there is any food downstairs, we’ll take that with us. So let’s get things together.”
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br />   As they went into the bedrooms, I told Sid, “Go downstairs; see if there’s anything we can use.”

  Brittany looked at me and said, “Lacey, try to remember these are nuns, somewhat isolated from the real world, and God is the center of their universe. Be a little patient with them.”

  When the nuns came back, Sister Frances said, “We will accept your invitation. But we are nuns and expect to be treated as such.”

  “With all due respect, our group includes doctors, executives, housewives, kids, and tradesmen. Everyone is treated with respect and we expect you to treat us the same. It takes a lot of work to keep the community going. Everyone has chores.”

  Sister Margaret stepped up. “We are used to hard work and prayer. We want to join you, but prayers and devotion to God are our primary mission.”

  “We would never forbid you to pray,” I said and turned to Brittany. “Get Sid to bring the truck close to the door. It’s time for us to go. Sisters, let’s bring your things downstairs.”

  Each nun had a small piece of luggage. I took two downstairs. I heard, “Step…Step…Step.”

  I turned back at the stairs. Sisters Bernadette and Frances held the arms of Sister Agatha. They had told the truth; she was old. She had to be in her late eighties. She was a small, fragile woman with many deep wrinkles, and the bluest eyes I had ever seen, and the warmest smile.

  “Hello, little girl; are you the one saving us?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  I reached out to her, and Sister Agatha let go of Sisters Frances’ hand and took mine. Her hand was cold, the type of cold from old age and poor circulation.

  “Did they take your medicines?” I asked.

  “Yes, they did. They take good care of me.”

  As Sister Agatha stepped onto the floor, she straightened up and said, “Let’s get a move on!”

  Sid walked into the house and said, “It’s going to be a tight fit in the truck.”

  Sister Frances replied, “We have a car, but Father Johnson has the keys.”

  “Where’s the car?” Sid asked.

  “In the garage, but—”

  Sid held up his hand. “I’ll get the keys. Everyone stay here. Figure out who is going into which vehicle.” He went into the kitchen and returned with the keys.