Zombie Games (Uncut) Boxed Set

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Zombie Games (Uncut) Boxed Set Page 16

by Kristen Middleton


  “Well, Bryce could stay here,” interrupted Eva. “Keep us safe.”

  Over my dead body, I thought as she twirled her long, red hair around her fingernail and stared at him hungrily. Bryce, as usual, remained impassive.

  My dad shook his head. “No, I need Bryce to cover me at the dealership. Unlike Austin, his shoulder isn’t injured and things could get pretty nasty. Cassie needs to accompany us so that she can drive the Sierra back. I might need that truck again.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to change my clothes,” I said tightly, leaving the kitchen. I didn’t trust myself around Eva, especially with all the loaded weapons sitting on the table.

  2

  When we stepped outside of the house, several zombies greeted us with open arms.

  “Stay back, honey,” ordered my dad, raising his gun.

  “Oh crap, dad,” I motioned toward one of the zombies. “Look, it’s Schmitty.”

  My dad groaned at the sight of our neighbor, who was now among the undead. They’d been semi- friends, and to see him walking around with half his torso ripped apart, was unsettling.

  “Sorry, man,” he told the zombie as it lumbered toward us with its mouth open wide. “I hate to be the one to rub it in your face, now, err… what’s left of it, but, guess I won our little gun debate.”

  Schmitty had always been dead-set against firearms. He was always berating my dad about having them in the house, especially when there were children present. But, we’d always kept them in our safe down in the basement, until now.

  I turned away from the sound of my dad firing his rifle and watched as Bryce shot three zombies, who couldn’t have been more than fourteen when they’d changed. I recognized them as well; they’d also lived in the neighborhood. My sister, Allie, had actually started crushing on one of them, a boy named Jason. He had always been a troublemaker with a smart mouth, which hadn’t sat well with my dad. In fact, earlier this spring, Jason had ridden his skateboard around the cul-de-sac, showing off, when my dad had arrived home from work. He’d purposely been in my dad’s way and had taken his own sweet time moving. Then, later that evening, my dad had found him trying to kiss Allie and had really blown his top. He’d yelled at Jason, who’d only smirked and taken off on his skateboard.

  “Dad,” I said, as we got into the truck.

  “What?”

  “Bryce killed the zombie who was trying to kiss Allie a couple months ago.”

  “He was a zombie, huh?”

  I nodded.

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “Well, she’s definitely not dating that boy now.”

  “Ha-ha,” I said.

  Bryce jumped into the truck, looking very pale. “I just can’t get used to killing these kids.”

  “Remember, they aren’t kids. Not anymore,” said my dad.

  “Still, it doesn’t make it easier,” said Bryce.

  “Hey, dad?” I asked, looking across the street.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why don’t we just use the Hendrickson’s van? They won’t need it anymore.”

  He shook his head. “Hell no. I’m not touching that thing, he bought it used and didn’t buy it from me. For all I know it, could conk out any minute.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “I also know for a fact that one of the Hendricksons wore adult diapers. Allie told me she saw them carry a big box in one day. From the urine smell in their house, they didn’t get changed often enough.”

  Bryce and I cringed.

  “I much prefer that ‘new car smell’, not the ‘old crotch smell’, you know what I’m saying?”

  I looked at him in horror. “Oh, my God, dad! That’s so gross!”

  He smiled innocently. “What?”

  Bryce laughed and I reached over and smacked his shoulder. “Don’t encourage him!”

  My dad, who was still chuckling at his own gross humor, started the engine and we left for the dealership with Bryce riding shotgun and myself in the back. The Sierra’s club cab was a little tight for a full-sized adult, and I could see why we definitely needed something roomier. Especially if everyone was going with us to Atlanta.

  As we began driving, I noticed most of the roads were deserted and there were only a handful of zombies in the vicinity of my neighborhood. We shot the few that were shuffling lifelessly down the road to lessen the chance of them finding their way back to our house.

  “Check that out,” said Bryce, pointing toward a small group of zombies near the local movie theater. They were about two hundred yards away and moving pretty quickly. As their gaunt, white bodies lumbered closer to us, we slowed down to study them.

  My dad pulled out a pair of binoculars. “These guys are pretty emaciated. I’m surprised they’re moving this quickly.”

  “Dad, I’ve heard they get more aggressive when they’re starving,” I answered.

  “These guys must be famished, because they’re coming in strong.”

  Bryce turned to me. “Wild, do you have any weapons on you?”

  “No,” I sighed. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” I wanted to kick myself for being so careless. I’d set the war hammer down on our patio in the backyard while taking Goldie outside to pee. Like a moron, I left it there.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m sure we’ll be fine with our guns. Damn, get ready to fire, Bryce,” ordered my dad.

  Bryce raised his rifle, and as they moved closer, started blasting away. When he hesitated for a moment, I noticed the young zombie girl in front leading the pack. She was scampering toward us, her brown hair bouncing in the air behind her. The zombie couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. It was disturbing, to say the least.

  Bryce’s lips curled in disgust. “Another kid, this is just sickening,” he mumbled.

  As the little girl got closer, I could see the features of her face and it was a mask of terror.

  “Wait!” my dad and I yelled, simultaneously. He then tossed his binoculars aside, threw the truck in park and flew out the door, cussing. I watched as he ran toward the frightened girl with his gun raised, firing at the closest zombies, trying to reach for her. When he made it to the child, he lifted her into his arms and started running back with four zombies closing in quickly.

  Bryce hopped out of the truck and continued firing at the zombies. One of them caught up to my dad, threw himself forward, and would have taken both of them down if Bryce’s shot hadn’t been so accurate. He quickly took care of the last three and I was able to breathe again.

  “Take her,” said my dad, opening the cab door.

  I grabbed the girl, who was sobbing, and held her in my arms. Her body was trembling as she clung to me like I was some sort of life preserver.

  My dad and Bryce jumped back into the truck.

  “She okay?” asked my dad, still out of breath.

  I somehow peeled the little girl off of me and looked into her small face, which was dirty and flushed from running. Her lips were dry and she looked very frail. I still couldn’t believe she was alive.

  “She’s terrified,” I said, staring into her haunted blue eyes.

  “Give her some water,” said Bryce, handing me a bottle.

  The little girl took it from me and began drinking greedily. When she started choking, I patted her gently on the back. “Slow down,” I murmured.

  “Great shooting, Bryce,” said my father as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, using the back of his hand. “Damn, those zombies are getting more agile.”

  “Yeah, I was getting a little worried back there. That one almost took you both out,” replied Bryce.

  “Well, if it wasn’t for you, things would have gotten much uglier. I appreciate your good aim.”

  “Seriously, though, can it get much uglier?” mumbled Bryce, looking at the girl. “Bunch of zombies chasing down a little girl for a quick snack. How she’s still alive is a mystery to me.”

  “It’s definitely a miracle,” answered my dad.

  My heart sw
elled as I thought of Bryce and the way he’d saved my dad and the little girl. Sitting in the backseat, I had the most incredible urge to run my hands through his dark, wavy hair and nuzzle the side of his neck. He was so damn sexy and I was already missing his incredible mouth. Right now, it was a struggle to keep my hands off of him; instead, I tried to focus on the child in my arms

  I cleared my throat. “Honey, what’s your name?” I asked the little girl.

  She stared at me silently, her eyes like a frightened rabbit. When she didn’t respond the second time I asked, Bryce turned around and gently touched her curly brown hair.

  “It’s okay, you’re safe with us. We won’t let anything happen to you,” he said softly.

  The little girl’s eyes grew round and filled with tears. She then threw her arms around my neck and began howling in terror again.

  He lifted his hands and gave me a bewildered look. “What?”

  I gave him a reassuring smile. “She’s obviously traumatized, Bryce. Don’t take it personally. If anything, you’re her hero.”

  Our eyes met and held. Remembering the passion in our kiss the other day, I felt the heat creeping up to my cheeks. He must have sensed my thoughts, because he smiled devilishly and licked his lips.

  My father spoke up and broke the spell. “We’re almost there, guys. Let’s hope the zombies aren’t shopping for cars.”

  I snorted. “Hey, you were the one complaining about lack of customers the other day. I’ll bet they’d be an easy sale, dad.”

  With a wry smile, my dad said, “Some of them zombies are so passive. I could probably sell them on extended warranties, too. I wonder if they can still hold a pen even with rigor mortis?”

  “They’d probably just sign it in your blood,” I replied.

  Bryce interrupted us. “You know, I’ve been thinking, if we keep picking up extra passengers, we might need two vehicles.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. And, if one breaks down, we’d still have the other as backup,” replied my dad.

  “Let’s do it then,” smiled Bryce.

  “I have access to any car I want. This could be very interesting.”

  I looked at my dad. “Just don’t take that corvette you were eyeing last week, dad. That thing is only a two-seater.”

  My dad sighed and rubbed his stubbly chin. “Thanks so much for bursting my bubble, daughter dearest.”

  “Corvette, huh? That would have been a sweet ride,” said Bryce.

  “You’re telling me, Bryce. The one the showroom floor is a ZR1 with 638 horsepower.”

  While they talked cars, I looked down at the girl in my arms. She’d stopped crying and was now asleep. Her little blue sundress was ripped to shreds and because she was shoeless, her feet were torn up and bloody.

  “I can’t believe this little girl survived out there with those things,” I said.

  Bryce turned around again. “Someone must have been taking care of her at one point.”

  “Maybe,” I sighed, laying her down on the seat next to me. She suddenly reminded me of how much I missed my younger sister. Although Allie was already twelve, it seemed like just yesterday when I used to carry her around in my arms. She’d idolized me, but, like most siblings, I’d taken it for granted. If I ever got the chance to hold her in my arms again, I probably wouldn’t want to ever let go.

  We passed the exit leading to St. James, the hospital where my mother had taken Austin. Several severely decomposed zombies were stumbling down the frontage road we’d taken previously.

  “I wonder how St. James is holding up,” I murmured. If it hadn’t been for Austin’s grenades, I still don’t know if we’d have made it out alive.

  Bryce looked back at me. “I doubt they’re holding up at all. There had to be close to five hundred zombies surrounding that hospital when we left.”

  “Well, I guess I do owe Austin for helping to protect you,” said my dad.

  “Austin’s a nice guy. He’s just trying to fulfill an obligation he feels he owes mom. It’s a little irritating, but I guess I sort of understand it,” I said.

  “That and the fact that he has the hots for you,” snickered Bryce.

  “What?” asked my dad.

  I snorted. “He doesn’t have the hots for me, Bryce.”

  “I don’t think you even know when someone has the hots for you, Cassie,” answered Bryce.

  My dad looked at Bryce, his eyes narrowing. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  Bryce cleared his throat. “I’m just saying that Austin obviously likes her and she doesn’t even see it.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he likes me,” I replied. “I’m not interested.”

  “Good,” replied both Bryce and my dad at the same time.

  3

  After navigating around several abandoned vehicles on the freeway, and killing some curiously alert zombies, we finally pulled into my dad’s car dealership. Thankfully, it appeared both lifeless as well as deadless.

  “Okay,” said my dad, parking in front of the large glass entrance. “Cassie, you jump into the driver’s spot as soon as we exit the truck. When we find a couple of suitable vehicles, we’ll pull around with them.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  Bryce glanced at me and I thought for a brief moment that he was going to kiss me, just like he did the last time we were getting ourselves into a dangerous situation. Instead, he pursed his lips and jumped out of the truck.

  “Wimp,” I muttered. He was definitely staying cool around my dad. I knew it was a matter of respect, but it was also very boring.

  I watched both of them as they entered the dealership. Carrying the rifles, they reminded me of two outlaws getting ready to rob a bank, and I was their nervous getaway driver.

  I heard a whimper from the backseat and turned to see the little girl, now awake and sitting up. She still looked very frightened and her eyes darted from window to window.

  “Hi,” I tried again. “I’m Cassie, what’s your name?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Can you talk?”

  She stared at me for a moment then stuck her thumb into her mouth.

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me in this big truck,” I reassured her. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  The little girl’s face suddenly turned white and she began to shriek so loud, I thought my eardrums were going to burst.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to reach her hand.

  She pointed to my side window and when I turned, I screamed at the horror just inches from my face. A tall zombie with maggots crawling from open sores all over his mottled face was staring hungrily at me. One eye had been ripped out, and his dark black hair hung below his shoulders with large tufts missing from his rotting skull.

  “Fuck!” I shouted and then cringed. I turned to the little girl and smiled sheepishly. “Um, sorry; that’s a naughty word, don’t ever repeat it.”

  To my surprise, she smiled.

  The zombie began to make demonic growling sounds outside of my window again. Before I could react, he’d found the door handle and was jiggling it as if attempting to get in. When the door actually began to open, I gasped in shock then jerked it back hard.

  The zombie shrieked in anger and tried again, this time without success, only because I’d locked it.

  I stared at him and shivers ran down my spine; these zombies were intelligent enough to open doors now?

  “No!!!” cried the little girl. She was pounding on the inside of her door and scratching at the windows, trying to escape.

  “Hey, it’s okay, honey. The doors are locked. You’re totally safe in here,” I said, trying to calm her down. “The guys will be back and they’ll shoot this thing. They have big scary guns.”

  She must have understood what I was trying to say because just like that, she quit crying and stuck her thumb back into her mouth.

  “Good girl,” I said, smiling.

  Then the frustrated zomb
ie started throwing a tantrum. He began pounding on the windows, growling and shrieking, wrecking what little progress I’d made with the terrified girl. When she opened her mouth and began to sob hysterically again, I completely lost it. I unlocked the door and slammed it hard against the salivating zombie, who in turn, lost his balance and toppled to the ground. I hopped out of the truck, raised my foot, and kicked him hard in the head with my mountain boot. When he lifted himself back up to try and reach me, he was met with a hard swivel kick, which sent him flying backwards.

  “You couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?” I snarled down at the stunned zombie. “You just had to freak the poor child out all over again. Well, dumbass, you asked for this!”

  I kicked him several times in the head as hard as I could while he tried desperately to grab my leg. This went on for several seconds, me kicking him in the head and him asking for more. When he finally stopped moving, I came to my senses and my stomach rolled with nausea; the zombie’s face was one big smear of gore.

  Someone cleared their throat and I turned around.

  “Honey?” asked my dad who’d pulled up in a brand new Yukon during my tantrum. He tilted his head and smiled wryly. “Is it your special time of the month?”

  “Ha-ha… you’re next, old man,” I said with a sneer. He was always giving my mom, my sister, and I crap about our moods during a certain time of the month. Yes, he walked a very fine line in a household of three women.

  “Wow,” said Bryce, who suddenly appeared, driving some kind of souped-up conversion van with tall, meaty tires. “I guess we know who won the battle. Good going, Wild!”

  I looked at the carnage I’d caused again and sighed. “Hate to say this, but these zombies are learning some new tricks.”

  “What do you mean?” asked my dad.

  “This one was able to open the door to the truck,” I said.

  “Shit,” said my dad, rubbing a hand over his face. “Next they’ll be learning to pick locks.”

  “Hey, get back in the truck!” yelled Bryce. “There’s more heading this way!”

  I turned and saw about ten zombies rushing through the lot of new cars and they were coming straight for us. I scrambled back to the Sierra, got inside, and locked the door. As they drew closer, my dad and Bryce shot them all in the head.

 

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