DEAD: Snapshot (Book 3): Liberty, South Carolina

by TW Brown

  “If you gentlemen will follow me?” Jamie extended an arm towards the middle entrance on the front of the school building that sat by the north parking lot.

  As she passed Jonathan, she saw a look that was part shock and part scowl etched on his face. She chose to ignore it and escorted the four men into Sophie’s makeshift office.

  ***

  Jonathan watched Jamie walk away. He suddenly felt like he was back in high school all over again. Despite being on the football team, he had never really felt like he fit in. He was husky (which most people simply just called fat) and a bit socially awkward. He doubted that Jamie even recalled they had been in the same graduating class. She’d even sat two seats in front of him in AP English.

  There was just something about those four guys that screamed the Tom Savini-led biker gang at the end of the original Dawn of the Dead. Hell, if that one guy had black hair instead of damn near being a ginger, he would fit the bill perfectly as Savini’s taller brother. He even had a goofy smile on his face all the time like he had just thought of something funny and decided not to share it.

  Part of him wanted to follow Jamie and the new arrivals to the intake office, but he had an idea forming in his mind and wanted to work out the details. With the power out, it was going to be a bit more difficult to pull off, but he saw this as a chance to draw from the power of his inner geek.

  Besides video games, one of Jonathan’s hobbies had been playing with electronics. He’d been the one to rig a motion activated camera at the Domino’s store when the product inventory sheets started coming up with discrepancies. They’d caught the culprit the second day he set up the camera. That had actually been the thing that earned him his promotion to assistant manager and gave him his own shift to run.

  After one more glance at Jamie and the newbies as they disappeared into the building, Jonathan headed for the gym where his cubicle waited. Of course, what he needed wasn’t in the cubicle, he would need to venture outside the perimeter to his abandoned house, but the patrols were reporting that zombie encounters were rare, and even when they were discovered, it was in singles or just a few at most.

  A small voice in his head told him that he was being an idiot. Wandering out all by his lonesome was bad enough. The fact that he only had the full use of one hand did not increase his chances. He quickly shut that voice up as he reached his cubicle and opened his footlocker. One good thing about this zombie apocalypse (he laughed whenever anybody used the media phrase “zombie event”) was that it did not draw any attention if he walked past with a pair of pistols on his hips, a shotgun over his shoulder, knives strapped to his thighs and his prized replica of a Roman Centurion’s sword.

  He slipped through the gym and exited on the side that faced where the track and field events were held in the spring. Sticking in the shadows, he kept his flashlight shut off until he had cleared the school grounds and reached the clearing under the massive power line towers that bisected the countryside. Once he reached the woods, he flicked on his powerful headlamp and started making his way north.

  Shortly after he reached Peachtree Street, Jonathan encountered his first zombie. The woman was naked and her blond hair looked silver in the moonlight. Her lower jaw appeared to almost be completely torn off. He briefly wondered how she might be able to bite in that condition and then quickly decided that he didn’t care. A zombie was a zombie.

  He let his shotgun slide off his shoulder and set it against a tree before drawing his sword. This was going to be the first time he used his Roman sword. A giddy tingle turned in his stomach and his mouth went dry as adrenaline flooded him.

  He waited until the zombie was almost in striking range. She was now fully lit up by his headlamp. This gave him a better look at her terrible injury. He also saw several very small bite marks all down her legs. Pieces of flesh hung in strips in a few spots, but the wounds looked old. While they still seemed to ooze a little dark fluid, they had dried considerably. What hadn’t changed was the terrible smell.

  As soon as she took two more staggering and unsteady steps closer, Jonathan reared back and swung at the top of the zombie’s head. The sword dug into the skull with a violent ferocity. Bits of bone and brain splattered up from the broken skull and the body collapsed in a heap. Wiping off his blade, he put it in its scabbard and then picked up his shotgun.

  He was already regretting taking so much gear. It seemed like a great idea to be on that “better safe than sorry” train, as he left the safe zone, but things were starting to feel heavy. It was as if they were gaining weight with each passing minute.

  He hadn’t gone another ten feet when he heard the sounds of a low moan coming from his right. He turned and staggered back a step when three children emerged from the brush. It took him a moment to shake off the shock and get his mind to register that these were no longer kids.

  They were monsters.

  He started towards them and then paused. He had to have been imagining things. He took another step and gasped. Sure enough, the three children stepped back. One of them even moved behind the other two as if trying to put an obstacle in his path should he decide to attack.

  For just a moment, Jonathan had a very difficult time seeing these three for what they truly were. His logical mind knew them to be the walking dead. Yet, they were acting as if they were afraid of him. Did this infection or virus or whatever the hell it was that made people into zombies react differently in children? Was there some part of their humanity still intact?

  He’d heard a few stories about the children, but he had simply been too far into his own pain—both emotional and physical—to pay it any attention. He thought that Mr. Deese had mentioned something and even used one to show some of the others that this zombie stuff was real.

  Kneeling, Jonathan reached out a hand towards the children. So far, this was not turning out much like any of his favorite zombie books or movies. A thought occurred to him. Perhaps the children were only partial zombies. Maybe for some unknown reason they didn’t quite turn all the way. What else could account for them acting so different? They weren’t attacking. That had to mean something. Perhaps he could redeem his huge blunder of not sharing those videos. If these children were special, perhaps they could be used to help the community somehow.

  “Hey,” he whispered, making his voice as calm and inviting as possible, “are you able to understand me?”

  The trio continued to stay put. Their only reaction was the occasional shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. The one that had ducked back behind the others might have actually taken another step away.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he called. This time, he made a “come here” gesture with his outstretched hand. As soon as he did, all three took another step back as if he had spooked them.

  One of the children’s head twitched, and its undead gaze went to his left and over his shoulder. Jonathan heard the twig snap in the nick of time and lunged to his right. The move was awkward, and getting up was not easy, but he made it to his knees as the zombie soldier staggered towards him with its arms outstretched.

  He was in an awkward position and could not draw his sword and so had to resort to one of the knives strapped to his leg. Pulling it, two things happened almost simultaneously. The soldier zombie lunged, in what was more of a flop due to the zombie’s lack of coordination, and the children suddenly began to come for him just like a regular zombie.

  Catching the soldier by the chin, he shoved the head up and to the side so that he could drive his knife into the side of its head. He shoved the body away and rolled back just as the first child zombie tumbled forward and landed on his right leg.

  Jonathan grabbed it by the hair and drove his blade down. His aim was just a bit off and he initially feared that he’d missed as the blade tip scraped a little to the side, gouging a chunk of hair and scalp, then it caught and pierced the head just above the right ear. The body went limp and the head was at such an angle that he could not free his weapon.


  There was no way that he would be able to draw his other knife before both of the remaining child zombies were on him. Steeling himself for the pain that he knew was coming, Jonathan clenched his teeth. The two children both fell on him practically in unison.

  ***

  Kevin dried his hands on the towel that had been handed to him by some guy who he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of when he’d entered a communal wash room. Mark and Joe were both finishing with getting cleaned up. Bob had vanished at some point and was nowhere to be found. He hoped the man didn’t jump the gun. This place was a gold mine.

  He’d noticed all the big rigs being pulled in and parked bumper-to-bumper as a sort of barricade. If he was inclined to settle down, this place would not be the worst choice. The problem rested in the fact that he had no desire to just settle in. He’d already seen enough to know that these people were putting in farmer’s hours. He wasn’t about to spend the zombie apocalypse busting his ass from sunrise to sunset every damn day.

  He did notice that Jamie chick checking him out when they’d first met. If things went well, he might be able to get a little of that before he and the boys hit the road. He doubted it would take much convincing on his part considering how she was blushing like a school girl every time he looked at her. And he would convince her. Kevin Staley might be a lot of things: brawler, robber (he hated the label of “thief” because he felt it sounded sneaky and cowardly), and killer. One thing he wasn’t was a rapist. None of his boys would do anything like that. They might kill a girl for saying no, but they wouldn’t take pussy by force.

  Walking out into what had once been the high school’s main gymnasium, he saw rows of portable dividers that acted as four foot high walls for the residents of what amounted to a massive open dorm. That was the other thing that made him certain there was no way in hell he would be staying here for any longer than was absolutely necessary. They would find the supplies—hopefully this town had created some sort of central armory—grab what they wanted, and get the hell out of here.

  “You got any ideas how we do this?” Mark sauntered up and rested against the wall, his huge arms folded across his massive chest. Somewhere, he’d found a toothpick and had it jutting from the corner of his mouth.

  “We need to find out where they’re storing shit,” Kevin said, after being certain that nobody was close enough to overhear their conversation.

  “Always making it harder than it needs to be,” Mark chortled.

  “And I suppose some sort of amazing idea managed to chisel its way into that giant square head of yours,” Kevin said with unveiled sarcasm.

  “Actually,” Mark turned to Kevin with an arched eyebrow, “I think I know exactly how we do this fast and get gone before these hillbilly bumpkins know what hit ‘em.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “These folks all abandoned their entire town. There are restaurants and I bet at least one grocery store just sitting there. We join up on one of the salvage teams or whatever they are calling them and head out. If we can all get on the same team and have the numbers, we just kill the locals on the team once we find someplace worth emptying. We load up and are out of here before these folks even realize we’re gone.”

  Kevin thought it over. He caught sight of the back of Jamie’s head as she ducked into a cubicle. This place was a gold mine, that much was for sure. He wanted to get loaded out to the max and be out of here before Joe or, God forbid, Bob, do something that put an end to this little vacation in an ugly way. That did not mean he felt they needed to leave in the next day or two. He wanted a little time to work on that Jamie girl. Who knew how long it would be before he had another chance at a bit of soft and squishy companionship.

  “Sounds like a solid idea,” Kevin finally agreed. “But let’s hang here for a few days. No need to be in such a hurry. Besides, the longer we hang around…” He saw Mark open his mouth and hurried out the next bit. “Within reason, of course…the more detailed information we can come up with. Can you imagine if this place has gathered up ammunition and put it someplace central? Since I doubt they are worried too much about anything beyond the zombies, I would be willing to bet we only have to kill maybe one person.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” a voice whispered behind Kevin causing both him and Mark to jump.

  “Jesus, Joe!” Kevin snapped.

  “Nope…just regular Joe,” the man replied with a devious smile. “And you may want to put those eyes back in your head, Kev.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The way you are eye-humping that little blonde number…the welcome committee girl?” Joe leered at Kevin who returned the look with his best attempt at a scowl.

  “Man, you gotta work on that,” Mark snorted. “You look like you’re constipated.”

  To emphasize his point, a young man in perhaps his twenties was emerging from the communal wash area. Mark leaned forward and gave the kid a fierce scowl. The guy almost tripped trying to swing wide of the muscular man.

  Mark turned back to Kevin and Joe. “See? That’s how you sport mean face. Maybe if you didn’t smile so damn much. I bet your scowling muscles are flabbier than zombie tits.”

  The three men all headed for their individual cubicles. Kevin sat down on the cot that was going to be his bed. He lay down for a moment and tried to get comfortable. It wasn’t bad; he’d slept on hard pans in county jail that were much less enjoyable. Still, he just could not bring himself to relax.

  Finally, he sat up, peeked around and then rose up to peer over the wall of his cubicle. He staggered back when he came face-to-face with Mark.

  “Dude, just go nail the broad and be done with it.” For emphasis, the big man waggled his eyebrows.

  Kevin knuckled the man lightly on the forehead. “Don’t wait up.”

  Exiting his cubicle, he had to pull up and dodge a pair of kids who were maybe eight or nine as they raced past. One of them was screaming something about “I gotcha!” while the other called over his shoulder “No ya didn’t!”

  “Dead within a month,” Kevin muttered and then headed in the direction he remembered Jamie being when he last saw her. It didn’t take him long to locate her. She was having a conversation with the woman who had given him and the others their check-up. He thought her name was Sophie, but since he wasn’t planning on staying very long, he decided that he didn’t care.

  He waited until there appeared to be a pause in the conversation before speaking up. “Hey, uh, Jamie…right?” He knew her name, but he wanted to come off as casual and non-threatening.

  “Kevin.” Jamie’s face broke into a huge smile which she quickly forced down to merely happy and pleasant after a gentle elbow nudge from her friend. “Getting all settled in?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Look, I was talking with my guys and we really want to do our part to help. You folks have been so great. And bringing us a hot dinner while we were seeing the doc here was a real pleasant surprise.”

  “I’m not actually a doctor, Mr. Staley,” the woman with the mocha colored skin said with a polite smile. “I was a nurse.”

  “Well you’re about the closest thing to a doctor that I’ve seen in a while,” Kevin said with an appreciative chuckle in his voice.

  “Sorry it was just soup and sandwiches, but the kitchen is shut down for the night and that is usually what the men and women coming in from patrol get before hitting the sack. But I think breakfast is pancakes, so…” Jamie’s voice trailed off and her cheeks turned a warm, rosy pink. It was obvious that she knew she was stammering and rambling. It was also very clear that she’d perhaps had a nice buzz going. This was almost too easy.

  “I think I’m still a bit strung out from the road.” Kevin winced inwardly at his cheesy line from an old song he loved. “You wouldn’t mind showing me around, would you? Maybe point out which work teams will likely need the most help tomorrow so we can sign up and get to doing our part?”

  Jamie shot a look at her friend
and Kevin was almost certain that his chances were about to be shot down in flames when the woman gave a slight shake of the head. He practically held his breath until she looked up at him and gave a nod despite her friend’s apparent disapproval.

  “Sure, I am actually going to be working one of the sign-up booths tomorrow,” she said as she pulled away from the nurse who was still trying to keep Jamie from leaving. “I was outside the perimeter today so I get to stay inside for the next few.”

  “Out hunting zombies?” Kevin flashed his best smile.

  “No, nothing quite so bold or dangerous. Actually, I was out trying to find supplies. I had been hoping to hit that Walmart Super store, but the stupid thing was burned to the ground.”

  “Wow, that sucks.”

  “Jamie?” the nurse called after them as he opened the door leading outside.

  “I’ll be fine, Sophie,” she called over her shoulder. “I’m sure Kevin here can handle anything that might stumble our way. Besides, we’re just going right outside.”

  Kevin was glad he’d already been smiling or he might have ended up giving himself away. As he escorted her outside, his mind flashed back to the Walmart that Jamie had mentioned. He and the crew had torched that place. Actually, most of the fault had been Joe’s. They had rolled in and gassed up, filled their extra emergency tanks, and then drove up to the big store front.

  The doors had been busted and it was obvious that the place was a hive of walking dead. Mark had been disappointed. He’d really been looking forward to some clean underwear. They were discussing if there might be any possibility that they might be able to slip inside, but since none of them knew where the underwear aisle might be, they (meaning Mark and Kevin since the other two had remained silent on the matter) had decided to skip giving it a try.

  No sooner had they made the decision when Joe had hopped off his bike with both of his five gallon gas cans. He’d actually dashed in through the busted door as he unscrewed the nozzles on both containers.