Moms Against Zombies
Page 1
M A Z
MOMS AGAINST ZOMBIES
THE FIRST BOOK IN THE AGAINST ZOMBIE SERIES
ALATHIA PARIS MORGAN
This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to portray actual people, names, places, events or situations. The ideas were
from the author’s own imagination and any resemblance to
people living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright: 2017 Alathia Morgan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or
reproduced in any manner without written permission,
except in the case of quotations for articles and reviews.
Acknowledgements: Thanks so much to my editor. You
worked above and beyond. I promise to get it to you earlier
next time. I couldn’t have done it without you.
Rebel Edits & Designs
Book cover: All credit with the book cover design goes to
Nicole Paris, thank you. You did it again!!
Jackson Family Tree
Granny Earlene
Nana & Pop
Mason & Kathryn
Dawson & Hayley
Ginny
Brad & Emma
Nancy & Allen
Kelly & Clayton
Andi
Cole
Pierce
Child & Child
Levi & Owen
Chapter 1
Emma
I had my baby six weeks ago, and today’s the day for
my checkup. I’m waiting to get the okay for some hanky
panky with my hubby when he comes home. Well, it won’t
matter if I have a doctor’s note or not because my husband
is back from overseas with his unit. He was able to come
home for a week when the baby was born, but he won’t be
home for good anytime soon.
As I lay waiting in this flimsy little gown for the Gyno
doctor to come and check me out, I hear a commotion out
in the hallway.
Loud whispers and hurried footsteps down the hallway
make me get up and tiptoe to the door in my bare feet.
Cracking the door open, I look toward the reception area,
but all I can see is a stack of papers floating to the floor.
“What in the world?” I glance back to make sure
Pierce, my baby, is still resting comfortably.
Hearing a scream from somewhere toward the front, I
decide the best thing for me to do is to get out of here.
Flicking the lock closed, I get dressed in record time and
collect my stuff as I head back to the door.
Opening it cautiously, I don’t see anyone at all, so I
sling the diaper bag over one shoulder and my purse over
the other. Placing my phone in my back pocket and my
keys in my hand, I hook my arm through Pierce’s carrier
and walk out into the hallway, ready for anything.
It’s eerily quiet. There are no voices or sounds coming from the reception area that had been filled only a half hour
ago.
As I proceed out through the now empty building, I
wonder what could have caused an evacuation.
Opening the front doors, I’m hit with sunshine.
“Shoot, I forgot my sunglasses.” Placing the baby down
at my feet, I start to dig through the diaper bag when I
notice a sound at the side of the building. Looking up, I see a man walking toward me.
Wait, walking is a broad term for the way he’s dragging
his feet and lumbering toward me in a very aggressive
manner. That’s when I notice the blood dripping from his
chest.
It now makes sense. There must have been an
emergency outside of the building, so the staff came out to
deal with it. While I would love to help, I have a new baby
to protect and this guy is creeping me out, so I grab the
carrier and make a run for the car.
Punching the button to unlock and open the van’s
sliding door, I’m tempted to just place the carrier inside and buckle Pierce in a few blocks away, but it’s already so
ingrained, the need to secure him, so I go ahead, even
though it will take a few seconds longer.
Sure enough, the bloody guy is following me to my car,
so I close the side door, open the driver’s side door and
jump in. Hitting the locks, I pray he doesn’t have a gun on
him.
I place the vehicle in drive and screech out of the parking lot, which I’ve never done before because it takes
the tire tread off, and that’s just wasteful.
As I head home, I realize there’s a lot of traffic out on
the road, and people looking really panicked.
The highway is congested and I’m getting a really bad
feeling about this, so I decide to take the back roads to my
home, which is thankfully about ten minutes away.
-----------
My phone starts to ring as I pull into my driveway. I hit
the connect button when I see it’s my hubby.
“Hey, hon. Why are you calling at this time of day?”
Normally, he calls late in the evening, which is in the
morning for him, before he goes out on duty.
I navigate into the garage as I anxiously await his
answer.
“There’s been a situation and I need to make sure
you’re safe.”
“Well, of course I’m safe. I just got back from the
doctor’s office and I’m pulling into the garage. What’s
going on?”
I put the van into park and turn it off as I look around
the garage. Brad’s voice is making me nervous, so I push
the button to close the door.
“We’re not allowed to say much, but you need to get
my gun box out from under the bed and grab what food you
have in the house. You have to head to the mountain where
Nana and Pop live.”
“Brad, what the hell is going on? I hate that you have to carry a gun, but I don’t want to start carrying one too.”
“Emma, do you want to protect our child?”
Realizing that he can’t see me nodding, I say, “Yes, of
course.”
“There’s something going down in the next few days
and you have to make sure to stay out of populated areas.”
“Are you going to be okay?” I wait, but he doesn’t
respond. “Honey, are you still there?”
“Yeah, babe. Look, I don’t have long, but you have to
get to the mountain, then go to the store and buy enough
stuff to last several months. You’ll need to take the
handgun from the locked case and all the ammo you can
find. I’ll try to call you later, but remember, I love you.
Don’t go anywhere without your gun.”
Static fills the line after his voice fades out.
“I love you, too,” I say out of habit, the words lingering
in the silence.
I remain in the van, trying to decide what to do about
Brad’s instructions.
I don’t know why I’m sitting in the car waiting for an
answer. I already have one.
Most people would assume I don’t have any brains, or
that I couldn’t do anything without his approval. Bra
d is a
marine, and while I do enjoy the occasional alpha male role
in the bedroom, I know he has information others are not
allowed to know. So, if he says to pack and leave, then
that’s what I’m going to do.
I take Pierce into the house and place his carrier in the portable crib so he can continue to sleep while I load the
van.
Sighing deeply, I figure I need to get the worst part over
with first: loading my weapon.
I know how to use it, and I even have a thigh holster for
it, but I don’t like the idea of using it on a human being.
Pulling out the locked box, I lay it on the bed and stare
at the key in my hand.
“Geeze, Emma, you can do this.” I give myself a little
pep talk as I open the lock and pick up the 9mm Luger.
“Carrying it isn’t the same as shooting someone, and I
wouldn’t want anyone to harm me or Pierce.”
I load it with determination and check to make sure the
safety lock is on since that’s the number one reason
accidents happen.
Brad had mentioned the gun trunk under the bed, which
I haven’t moved before because I thought it was really
heavy.
On my knees, I look underneath the bed, hoping to
locate a handle to gain a better grip. Seeing one on each
end, I tuck the dust ruffle out of the way and pull with all
my might.
The trunk shoots out from under the bed, causing me to
land on my hiney.
Either I have more muscles than I thought, or the trunk
doesn’t have all the guns inside.
I recover and get back on my knees in front of the trunk. I’m really dreading this, but I open the lid and
discover a letter with my name on it in Brad’s handwriting.
“Babe, I know how much you hate guns. If you are
opening this, it means that terrorists, war, or the
apocalypse have happened and you need to move quickly to
a safe place with a small population.
“Nana and Pop have a fairly good stockpile and a
defensible position. Take our baby there and wait until you hear from me, in case the worst happens. If I don’t make it back to you after six months, Nana has a letter to give you.
It’s not the end because you are my rock, paper, scissors, and I can’t live without you.
“I love you, so use the guns for the protection of our
baby and stay safe until I can be there and take care of
both of you. Now, hurry!”
I swipe the back of my hand to stop the tears
running down my face.
If Brad thinks I can do it, then I will.
My gun box is right there on top so I open it and slip
the loaded clip into place, but leave the safety on as I place it carefully on the bed.
I fold the letter and slide it into my back pocket while
standing up. The trunk’s lid shut and locked securely gives
me a sense of peace as I open my dresser drawer and
withdraw the leg holsters Brad had bought me shortly after
our engagement.
The holsters were made as a gift for him so that he wouldn’t worry about where I would try to carry a loaded
firearm, since I was known for being clumsy.
The straps fit around the top of my thigh with a second
set securing the bottom, but mine were custom made to
include a knife holder on the backs.
While guns make me nervous, a knife is something I
can balance easily and play around with without hurting
myself. I have pretty good aim, so I’d chosen it as my
weapon, but we had compromised on my holsters, having
both available to me.
I throw an empty suitcase on the bed, then go to check
on Pierce before I get started on packing.
As a new mom, I’m constantly checking the poor baby
to make sure he’s still breathing. Sometimes, I even take a
chance on disturbing his sleep to make sure his little chest
is still moving.
A car barrels down our quiet street and zips past the
front window in the living room.
I glance down to make sure Pierce is still asleep and
peek out the window.
All up and down the street, neighbors’ homes that are
normally empty at this time of day are buzzing with people,
talking in little groups.
This is not good.
Everyone else will be trying to leave as well, and then
we’ll all hit the evacuation routes at the same time, which
could take hours before we’re truly away from danger.
The gun trunk isn’t that heavy, so I drag it through the house and make it into the garage. I wave my foot under
the bumper and scooch back so the trunk can open.
Bending at the knees, I lift with my arms and heft it into
the cargo area. Thank goodness, I didn’t have a cesarean, or
loading the van would be much more difficult post-baby.
Every time I walk past the baby, he’s still sleeping so I
try to work and pack as much into the van as possible
before he starts crying. I have a feeling I won’t be coming
back in the near future.
Diapers…check.
Wipes…check.
All the clothes from his drawers fit into two large
suitcases…check.
Bottles from the kitchen…check.
Oh, I’m going to need my stuff from the bathroom, but
what can I put all my clothes in? All the suitcases have
been used for the baby’s clothes.
Boxes from all the baby’s large items will be perfect to
pack my shoes, clothes, and our wedding albums.
I’m not really worried about how neat everything is
packed because I need to leave soon. Several trips later, I
only have the pantry to box up.
The only problem with this is that the big boxes will get
really heavy with canned goods, so I have to spread them
out over several boxes, making things take a little longer.
With the last box finally in the trunk, I move my foot
under the bumper again to close it.
A whimper alerts me that my little man is awake.
“Hey, baby boy. Let’s get you fixed up,” I coo as I
unstrap him from the car seat.
I hum while changing his wet diaper, then settle into the
rocker with him.
The plan had been to nurse him until his first birthday,
but with the current situation, he’ll have to switch over to
formula.
I’ve been giving it to him occasionally, but there’s no
guarantee that in the coming weeks I’ll be able to keep milk
pumped or refrigerated, so my baby will have to get a little
older much faster than I had planned.
Sadness settles in as I look around the room and realize
that the time we’d spent getting ready for the little guy in
my arms, he won’t be able to enjoy it in the near future.
Pierce bangs his little fist on my chest, indicating that
he’s finished eating.
His fuzzy head absorbs my kiss as I readjust him over
my shoulder to burp him. The walk through to the living
room is full of memories with Brad and family friends.
With Pierce content for the moment with sucking his
thumb, I hurry to close up the pack and play. One last
&nbs
p; check through the house and we’re ready to pull out and
head toward Nana and Pop’s place.
-----------
There are people gathering all over the neighborhood,
and I’m curious as to how people had managed to leave
their daytime jobs and rush home.
Everyone seems skittish and stops talking to stare at my van as I pull up to the stop sign.
Unnerved by my neighbors’ stares, I pull out into
moderate traffic, which thins out as I cross town and out
onto the highway leading to Tennessee.
The outskirts don’t seem to be congested yet as I pull
into a gas station, thankful they have a pay at the pump. I
hate the really small towns where I have to unbuckle Pierce
and take him into the store with me.
There are so many things I’d never considered before I
had a child. The small things take so much longer because I
have to strap Pierce in and out of the van. I can’t imagine
having several small children to take on multiple errands.
My stop doesn’t take long, and while I wait I look
around, but no one seems to be in a hurry. In fact, there
doesn’t seem to be a panic on this side of town at all.
Was the man I’d seen at the clinic the problem? Had he
been shot?
I walk around to clean the passenger side window and
realize why my neighbors had been staring at my van.
There’s blood all along the side with a handprint visible
at the start of the smear.
The man who had been shot must have found me and
tried to get in the van as I drove away.
I quickly use the wiper cleaner to scrub off the blood; I
don’t need the police stopping me for an explanation about
where the body might be that belongs to the blood smear.
The pump stops and I hurry over to disengage and replace the handle. I don’t worry about the receipt. I just
want to be back on the road and in the safety of Nana and
Pop’s home.
Hoping the radio won’t wake Pierce, I keep it low, but I
need to have something to keep my mind off the world and
focus on something else.
The local country station is playing and I breathe a sigh
of relief, that is until the news comes on at the top of the