Savannah's Only Zombie (Book 1): A New Death

by Josh Vasquez

  Jeremy knew he was right. And he was glad to be alive. He just didn’t know how to handle all of this. People freak out when they lose loved ones in normal situations. Watching dead people fight over and rip apart your mother’s body was not a normal situation.

  “I tried to save her…” Jeremy choked out, tears beginning to slide down his cheeks.

  His emotions were beginning to take control of him. He had cried at the house earlier, but those tears were different. Earlier, all he felt was anger and the rage. But it was just now hitting him he’d never see his mom again. She believed in heaven, but Jeremy always thought that was just wishful thinking.

  You just die, he thought.

  And besides, if how she believed you got there was true, then Jeremy definitely would not be seeing her again. Too much bad stuff in his life. Too much anger towards God. And believing that some man two thousand years ago died for his sins? That was too much for Jeremy. He played around with the idea when he was younger, but as he grew older, it became harder to believe in that.

  “I’m sure you did try to save her, hijo,” the Padre said. “Sometimes the circumstances are beyond our control and we have to trust in Go-”

  “Yeah? And where was God in all this?” Jeremy angrily cut him off. “Where was God when I was trying to save her? Where is he now Padre? Huh? What’s he up to right now? Just chillin up there in the sky, watchin the show?”

  The Padre took his hands off of Jeremy’s shoulders as the boy ranted. He very casually leaned back against the desk and listened.

  “I mean, what is all of this?” Jeremy continued. “Some sort of sick cosmical joke? ‘Let’s watch those humans eat each other.’ Yeah, good one God! Very funny! ‘Let’s watch Jeremy try and save his mother, only to fail and let her die.’ What kind of sick prick would do that? Huh, Padre? Where is your God now?”

  The man just watched as Jeremy flipped his lid. His expression was set; his face never changing. There was a hint of sadness in his face as he patiently listened to the boy’s lament.

  “You finished hijo?”

  He asked very calmly. His calmness was in stark contrast with Jeremy’s off the cuff frustration. This only added to Jeremy’s frustration.

  “Hijo? What does that even mean anyways?” Jeremy barked.

  The man smiled.

  “Sorry,” he started. “It’s Spanish for ‘son’. You can take the priest out of México, but you can’t take the México out of the priest.”

  Jeremy quickly grew embarrassed. If he had calmed down and thought clearly, he would have remembered that from Spanish class. A class which he actually did well in. His head hung low. The priest paused for minute, processing all of what Jeremy said.

  “To be honest with you hijo,” Padre began. “I don’t fully understand what is going on here. I don’t know how this all came to be. But I do know one thing: God is good. And loving. This disease or whatever it is making people act this way, this is just me thinking, but I have a hard time believing it is from God. Too many times has man tried to play God and met disastrous results. This, this reeks of that. I don’t think this plague is from God, but yet more likely, God has allowed it to happen.”

  “Yeah,” Jeremy said. “Well, why would He just allow this to happen then? That doesn’t seem very loving or good.”

  “God works in mysterious ways. I know that has become quite the cliché here in the states, but that doesn’t change the fact that the statement still rings true. He could have very easily stopped all of this. Without breaking a sweat. Do you honestly believe that an all-powerful God couldn’t stop this? Easily he could. I don’t know why He allows certain things to happen. But I do know the book of Romans tells us that He allows us to pursue after the lusts in our hearts and He turns us over to our debased minds. In a sense, God says, ‘Fine, if sin is all you want, then go get it. Go chase the wind.’ It may sound harsh, but he does that because he loves us. He wants us to know that we can chase things, money, sex all day, but in the end, we will be incomplete without him.”

  Jeremy nodded slowly, digesting every word the Padre said. Flashes of old felt-board, Sunday School lessons came to mind.

  “Also, it says in Ephesians, that we are dead in our trespasses and sins. We think we are alive, but in reality we are spiritually dead. Sound familiar? These things out there, they are not so much different from us. I’m not saying that God allowed this to happen to teach us that, but you have to admit the irony is amazing.”

  Jeremy again nods.

  “You see, Jeremy,” he said. “These dead are a great picture of us. We are dead and our only desire is to consume, no matter what the cost. For us it can be anything, money, fame, or even good things. But for these dead, it is flesh. And they will consume it no matter what the cost. We have all rebelled against God and pursued His creations more than Him. We have desired the creation over the Creator. And then we have the audacity to say that He owes us! That God is unfair! God owes no man! Everything in the universe is His! We stand there and point our fingers to the heavens and say, ‘Where are you God? Why have you done this to me?’ When all the while we are the ones running and rebelling against Him, the One who created us and gave us breath.”

  The Padre stopped. He did not mean to preach to the boy, but something moved him to say all this. Maybe it was frustration, maybe it was concern. Or maybe, maybe he was preaching this to himself. Reminding himself of the truth he knew to be true.

  “Jeremy,” he said, taking a deep breath before starting again.

  “Everyone wants to blame God for when the world falls apart. Never stopping to think that maybe it’s us who are tearing it apart and it is Him who is holding it all together.”

  The words hung in the air as Jeremy let them sink in. Ever since his parents divorced, he had held a chip on his shoulder when it came to God. But if what the priest was saying was true, then maybe it wasn’t God’s fault for his parent’s failed marriage. Maybe, it was just theirs.

  “So,” Jeremy began, still working out what he was going to say in response. “Then God is just gonna leave us here to our own devices? He’s just gonna leave us here with these freaks? Just let us destroy ourselves? Or I guess now, eat ourselves?”

  He noticed the man light up and a big, warm smile crossed his face.

  “No, hijo!” Padre said, beaming. “That’s nowhere near the end of the story! The Father has set in motion a plan of redemption for us long before the creation of the world…”

  There was a crash from downstairs.

  Both men’s heads snapped in the direction of the door. The Padre held up a finger to his mouth, signaling to Jeremy for silence. He received no argument as Jeremy froze. He reached over to the desk and picked the shotgun up, slowly and quietly. There was shuffling and other noises heard from the other side of the door.

  “Hijo,” the Padre whispered.

  Jeremy turned to look at the priest. He was holding out a set of keys.

  “There is a small, blue pick-up truck in the parking lot. Use it to escape.”

  “But what about you? Where are you going?” Jeremy stammered.

  But it was too late. The Padre had already flung open the door and started firing into the crowd of zombies.

  Chapter Six

  Boom. Splat. Boom. Splat.

  The Padre laid out the dead with a steady rhythm of shotgun shells and brain matter. How a group that size got into the building without alerting them both was beyond Jeremy. Perhaps he was so focused on what the Padre was saying and the Padre was so enwrapped in saying it, that the two of them had simply just missed the noise. It was almost as if the zombies had snuck in.

  Boom. Splat. Boom. Splat. Click. Click. Click.

  Padre’s gun was out of shells, but that didn’t stop the priest from his attack. He took the butt end of the gun and swung it into the head of a girl whose left eye was hanging from the socket. The blow threw her head back and the eye flew off into the crowd.

  “Hijo! You need to run now!
” Padre yelled.

  Jeremy realized that he had frozen to watch the man of God deal a massive blow to the dead onslaught. He moved with such speed and precision. For a man who was called to peace and love, he moved like a trained warrior. Jeremy watched as the man connected a fist with the face of zombie, sending the thing recoiling back into the group, clearing a path. It was time to run.

  Jeremy pulled the machete out from his backpack and ran into the fray. The Padre had cleared the path down the stairs, but Jeremy would have to hack and slash his way through to make the path wide enough for him to slip by. He did, as the Padre followed behind him, pushing the boy forward. They fought their way down the stairs and into the reception area. Jeremy was just about to open the door, when a zombie hand reached out and grabbed him by his backpack. He spun quickly, fixing to bring the machete down on the rotting arm, but watched as the butt end of the shotgun came crashing down onto its skull.

  “Run for the truck,” the winded man said.

  Jeremy did. His feet hit the asphalt and took off in the direction of the blue pickup. The herd of zombies outside was larger than the one inside. The gunfire from earlier must have attracted them to the church, because it was quickly being overrun. How they were getting in around the fences was a mystery to Jeremy. There must have been an opening somewhere. Jeremy looked towards the truck and counted five zombies in between him and his escape.

  No biggie, he thought.

  He ran with all he had, refreshed from the short break. His backpack bounced against his back, propelling him forward. He zipped past the first zombie with no problem. It was slow. He turned to see if the Padre was behind him. He was not.

  “Where is he?” he asked out loud.

  There was a small group of dead massing near the door; some were kneeling down over something. One of them stood up. It was holding something near to its mouth. Jeremy squinted, trying to make out what it was. It was a blood stained white collar.

  “No!” he yelled.

  The dead in unison all looked at him, losing interest in the meal they had before them. They were now setting their sights on something new to consume. One moaned, thus causing the others to moan in reply as they shambled in Jeremy’s direction.

  He turned and began to run towards the truck, but came face to face with one of the living dead. Its eyes were grey and dull, void of any life. The smell of decomposing flesh filled Jeremy’s nostrils; he would have thrown up, but the danger was too imminent. Its wilted arms reached out, not for a friendly hug, but trying to grab a hold of its prey. Jeremy swung the machete up into the air and then brought the full force of it crashing back down onto the zombie’s skull.

  Its grey, dead eyes rolled back into its head, thick, brown blood pouring from where the blade split through bone and tissue. Jeremy went to yank the blade back. It didn’t budge. It was stuck. He tried again. Stuck. The other dead approached quickly.

  Fuck it, he thought and ran, pushing over the zombie who stole his only weapon.

  When he got to the truck, he did not become the girl from the movies again. He did not fiddle with his keys and drop them over and over again. He got in, slid them into the ignition, and roared the truck to life. The brights came on when he cranked the truck on. The dead did not seem to like the sudden change of light, because all caught in the beams of the truck threw up their arms, shielding themselves from the light. The dead do not like the light.

  Jeremy threw the truck into drive and floored it. He took out one of the zombies in the process, sending its dead body tumbling under the pick-up. As he drove towards the exit, he saw what looked like the Padre’s lifeless body still lying over by the building. For being mostly intact, he still had not gone through the transformation into one of those things. He was still dead.

  He should be up by now. They have been coming back quicker than that. Maybe some take longer.

  Jeremy turned his attention back to driving. He reached the exit gate, ran out and swung open the large gate. Quickly, he returned to the truck as the dead were trying to catch up to him across the parking lot. He pulled the truck out onto the street and took off in the direction of his father’s house. The roads were eerily clear of any traffic. The problem was the abandoned vehicles. They were everywhere. Savannah streets could be narrow enough, but add derelict cars to the equation, and you were looking at a tight squeeze. It was like people tried to leave, but just abandoned their vehicles and made off on foot. He swiftly, but carefully guided the truck down the road.

  As he came a few blocks short of the neighborhood his father lived in, the blocked roadways became too clogged for the truck to get through. He was going to have to make the rest of his journey on foot. Now the reason for all the abandoned cars was beginning to make sense. He did not like the idea of walking. Especially, since he didn’t have his machete anymore, but what choice did he have?

  Looking around to see if he could find anything in the cab that would be of some use, he came across the Padre’s bible. Much like his mother’s, the cover was cracked and worn, the pages creased and nearly falling out. Page after page was filled with markings and notes. This book had seen much use.

  “I already have Mom’s,” he said, setting the book down on the seat.

  He picked up another book, a worn, leather covered notebook. He flipped it open to see handwritten pages crammed full of tiny writing, both in English and Spanish. It was the Padre’s journal. Now that the Padre was gone, Jeremy could still get to know the man through his journal. He decided to read it later, tucking the book into his bag, next to his Mother’s bible. A last quick scan of the truck and the only thing he found to replace his machete was a Phillips head screwdriver.

  Better than nothing I guess.

  He quietly closed the door and began to walk towards his father’s house. The street lights were still on. This area still had power. This somewhat comforted Jeremy. The shadows the light cast across the road, however, did not. They played tricks on Jeremy’s eyes. Every dark corner seemed to hiding a zombie. They might have been.

  Normally, you would need to have a pass to enter the gated community, but today, the gates were wide open. One of them hung broken from its hinges. The guard shack was abandoned and the light was still on inside. Jeremy gripped the screwdriver tight to his chest. He had to be ready for anything. If those things could sneak up on him and the Padre at the church, very easily one of them could get the jump on him here.

  It was empty. He breathed a sigh of relief. Jeremy felt himself getting tired and he needed to rest. The whole incident at the church was beginning to take its toll on him, the adrenaline not pumping in him as it was then. Plus, he was getting hungry.

  What was the last thing I ate?

  It was an energy drink and a bag of chips on his break at work.

  Work… I guess I don’t have to go back to that place.

  He began to think about the shopping carts. He thought about Brian the douche yelling at him about the shopping carts. He thought about Ashley, giggling at him as he struggled with the shopping carts.

  Ash…

  She was probably the only reason he still worked there. He had thought of quitting several times, but the fact that she was there, made him stay. And he never worked up the courage to ask her out. They had talked several times, shared their breaks together, and she probably even considered him a friend. There was one time when Brian was being extra-douchey to everyone and was yelling at Ashley for something. Jeremy brought up the fact that he messed up one woman’s coupons just to take the heat off Ashley. Brian fell for the bait and ever since, Ashley had been nice to Jeremy.

  Until now, he thought. She’s dead. Brian’s dead. Mom and the Padre are all dead.

  There were no dead here. It seemed that these rich people made it out alive. Four car garages were left open. Light in 14,000+ square feet houses were still on. Some of these houses were on deep water. Jeremy wondered if anybody tried to escape by boat.

  Not a bad idea, he thought. Except th
at you would have to return to land eventually to get food and drinkable water. On second thought, maybe not such a good idea.

  He reached his destination without any problems. The lights were not on in the house. Looking at his cell phone, he discovered the screen had cracked.

  Probably when I flew off the bike.

  It was still readable though. It was only 11:17. It had been seven hours since Jeremy was at work. Much had changed in seven hours.

  The house was empty. It looked like his father wasn’t here. Normal.

  “Hello?” Jeremy called out into the darkness. “Dad? You home?”

  There was no answer. No moans either, so he pressed on into the house. He flipped on a few light switches, his eyes taking some time to adjust from coming in out of the dark. The house was clean and in order. It didn’t even look like someone lived here. Jeremy wandered up to his father’s bedroom, turning on lights as he went.

  The master bedroom was also empty and very clean. The bed was made, clothes were off the floor and put away. This wasn’t like his dad. The man lived his life like the extravagant bachelor he was. After the divorce, his father won a huge pile of money in Vegas. So, on top of the man’s money as a plastic surgeon, he now had a few million more. Meanwhile, Jeremy’s mother was left working two jobs and other side work just to keep the bills paid. Even Jeremy would pitch in from his paycheck.

  His mother wanted nothing to do with his father, so she wouldn’t accept a dime from the man. Jeremy didn’t care for the man either, but he wouldn’t have minded having a little of the man’s cash. Birthdays were normally nice. They were one of the few times his mother allowed him to accept money from his father.

  The only thing that seemed out of place in the room was a video camera set up on a tripod. It was pointed directly at the bed.

  Probably don’t want to see what’s on that thing, he thought with a grimace.

  His father always had some new piece of arm-candy that was more attracted to the man’s financial status than his personality. His father was probably a close second to Brian in doucheness. Being a plastic surgeon, the man had his options of “female companionship”. Just one more reason Jeremy disliked his father. He left the room and headed towards the kitchen. His stomach was growling. He had to get something to eat.