ONSLAUGHT_The Zombie War Chronicles_Vol 1

by Damon Novak

  Georgina stared at me for a second, and I thought she was wonderin’ what kind of sick puppy I was. Then she said, “One last poke before that. A big one.”

  She picked up the screwdriver, placed the tip against the strangely undulating heart muscle. She pushed the blade through it.

  Black ooze ran down the exterior of the muscle, and into her chest cavity. As for my part, I noticed an absence of movement in her right side. Her left leg still wanted to walk and move, and her left hand did the same. The right hand was perfectly still, as was her right leg.

  “Before you say anything, I see it,” said Georgina. She reached down to touch the creature’s right hand. She lifted it and squeezed it. No movement whatsoever.

  “The puncture seems to have interrupted blood flow – as minimal as it is – to her right side.”

  She raised her head. The zombie was very much alive, her mouth gnashing and jaws snapping. “Still hungery and aware of what is needed to satisfy her cravings.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Sonya.

  “It means that with some good heart damage, we can immobilize them, but not take them out. We can limit the movement of their extremities, which could prevent them from getting to us.”

  “Head shot, brain shot, ‘bout the same talent involved, and I ain’t preservin’ it for a wall mount,” I said. “Head shots for me.”

  “And that said,” Georgina muttered, pulling the screwdriver out. “The coup de grâce.” Rather than jab the blade into the she-thing’s brain, she pushed it in slowly, watching the thing’s eyes as she did it. I was impressed as hell with that woman’s composure.

  As the screwdriver bottomed out against the grip, the zombie’s eyes, if it was even possible, went even deader. Its body stopped strugglin’ against the restraints, and she slumped over in the chair.

  “You guys back up,” I said. They did. I kicked the chair and it tumbled off the dock and into the water, zombie and all, sinkin’ beneath the surface. We watched the thing sink down, and it really hit home when I saw there were no air bubbles breakin’ the surface of the water afterward. The thing wasn’t human anymore.

  One more thing struck me.

  I never wanted to see that bitch – or anything like her – ever again.

  I don’t need to tell you, but just like the Rolling Stones said, you can’t always get what you want.

  Ω

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  We stayed inside most of the rest of that day, tweakin’ the radio knobs, tryin’ to see if maybe Micky Rode was still broadcastin’, but I guess he’d already hit the pavement, makin’ tracks to Lebanon. We picked up a few scratchy communications on the ham, but nothin’ that set our minds at ease. Just bits and pieces of folks out there pleadin’ for help from anybody.

  I was hopin’ Rode might’ve taken a ham radio along, to keep up with his broadcasts. Maybe he did, but we hadn’t come across him yet.

  The dog, Nokosi, was settling in, and even approached me a few times for head scratches and rubs. It felt good to be around a dog again. I wished I was as ignorant to what had happened to the world as she probably was.

  Somehow, seein’ her gave me a little hope. I’d begun to believe all the animals had died in that black rain shit, and it was good to know I was wrong. If she made it, there were others.

  We were about to call it a night, but this time we agreed to sleep in shifts. It was Georgina’s suggestion, but I’d already decided it was a good idea, so I said I’d take the middle shift. We were lettin’ Georgina skip watch duty. She’d done enough cutting into that thing earlier today.

  I didn’t offer to take the middle shift because I was tired; not at all. I was so jacked up from the crazy world unfoldin’ around me that I figured some Dramamine might be on the menu to knock me out. We always kept it on hand for folks who got motion sickness.

  Lilly was on duty first. First watch is always easier, ‘cause all you gotta do is just not go to bed, which is a helluva lot easier than rousin’ your ass out of a deep sleep. Last shift is easy, ‘cause you already got your chunk of sleep. So, I took the shift I figured was hardest, because you had to get your sleep in two sessions.

  We said our goodnights around ten o’clock. I was scheduled to get up at 1:00 and watch until 4:00, and Sonya was bringin’ up the rear, coverin’ the 4:00 to 7:00 shift.

  Somehow, we got through it. No other monsters showed up at Baxter’s that night, but we still felt good about stayin’ up to be sure.

  Ω

  It was day four of zombie world. I’d smelled the bacon in my sleep I think, and I don’t think I could’ve pulled my swim trunks on fast enough. I threw on a white tank top and walked out, seein’ Lilly workin’ the pan on our little propane stove.

  It was the last of the perishable food, and takin’ a mental inventory of the other edible stuff we’d taken from the houses, I knew we wouldn’t be self-sufficient for long.

  “Got enough for five strips each,” said Lilly, lookin’ up at me as I walked in. Her 30.06 leaned up against the windowsill, and there were about ten boxes of bullets stacked on top of one another just beside it.

  Looked like Lil had been polishin’ that gun; the brass and chrome on it gleamed, and the stock looked oiled as well.

  Georgina sat in one of the lobby chairs, her feet propped up on the small, wooden coffee table, a paper plate balanced on her legs. “Morning, Cole,” she said, offering me a slight smile.

  I understood why it was only the hint of a smile. As a doctor, Georgina Lake probably had to tell a few families that their loved ones didn’t survive whatever had plagued ‘em. I hadn’t had time to sit down and really weigh what had happened. The crisis was still in full swing, and probably would be for some time to come.

  After I ate, I checked the windows to make sure nothin’ outside was huntin’ for humans, and stepped out the door. “Hey, Lilly, would you fire up that gen so I can get wet real quick?”

  “Sure, but make it fast. The gauge says we’re going to need more propane pretty soon. Meanwhile, we have those damned cans of gasoline on the back of your Rover.”

  I turned around. “I can skip the shower if you want, but with this heat, I’m gonna be so nasty ripe that no deodorant could conquer it.”

  Lilly shook her head and grabbed the generator’s remote control panel. I heard it fire up and smiled as I let the door slam shut behind me.

  I pulled my shirt off and reached up to yank the chain connected to the ball valve. There was a small cabinet mounted on the buildin’ next to it, and I opened it up and pulled out the oldest bottle of Prell shampoo the world has ever known. I’m guessin’ it was from around 1975. Maybe older. It still had a picture of a chick with a beehive hairdo on it.

  As I worked the suds into my scalp, I heard the door close. I tried to open my eyes, but the sting of shampoo stopped me.

  “It’s just me,” came Georgina’s voice. “I’m next.”

  “It’s warm, anyway,” I said. “I’ll just be a sec.”

  “Take your time,” she said, and I swore I heard a smile in her voice.

  I reached blind for the Dial soap and slathered it all over my chest and arms. Next, I bent down and cleaned whatever crap had built up on my lower half. Then I turned around and reached down my shorts to get my other parts clean.

  “Modest,” said Georgina. “I didn’t call that.”

  “Just because I exude confidence, doesn’t mean I’m a damned show-off,” I said. “The shorts stay on.”

  I finally rinsed all the soap out of my eyes and opened them to see Georgina standin’ there in bra and panties. And yes, while bikinis are basically the same thing, there’s somethin’ to knowin’ when they’re not.

  I turned around, givin’ her privacy. “Sorry, Georgina,” I blurted.

  “Please, call me Georgie. And don’t worry. I’m not.”

  I smiled. I liked this woman. She was smart and pretty, and now I knew she was funny.

  “I figured as quickly as we can get
it done, the better for fuel consumption,” she said. “Now, move.” She elbowed me out of the way and pulled the chain down to start the water flow.

  I plopped down in the plastic chair a few feet away and toweled off my hair, then dried off as best I could. It was already past 80 degrees, and I knew today would be hot and humid. The towel had its work cut out for it.

  “I’ll leave you a clean towel here,” I said, and Georgina looked up as I stood to go back inside.

  “Thanks. Would you keep me company?”

  I looked at her, hesitated for a second, and said, “Sure. Let me grab my shotgun. Might as well be prepared.”

  “Good idea,” she said, tiltin’ her head back to wet her hair, at the same time, unintentionally pushing her breasts forward. I ran into the doorframe.

  “Ouch!” I said, tryin’ to recover. I hoped she’d already had shampoo in her eyes, but no such luck. She laughed, and I took aim for the door again.

  That time I made it in.

  When I came back out, she was covered in soap, and was just beginnin’ to rinse. I left Lilly inside with the ham and the other radio on, scannin’ different channels, or frequencies, or whatever the hell they are.

  “What’s the plan today?” asked Georgina.

  “Survive, I guess,” I said. “But yeah, we sure as hell need a plan.”

  “What about Lebanon?” she asked. “Still considering it?” She poured shampoo into her palm and rubbed her hands together, then ducked beneath the stream, wetting her hair. She started washing her hair, the soap runnin’ down her neck, chest and back.

  My mind was so taken with her glistenin’ wet body that I was confused for a time. Finally, it struck me; Lebanon, Kansas. Where the disc jockey was headin’.

  “Yeah, it’s definitely on my radar, but I’m only one out of four. You guys get a say, too.”

  She made quick work of her hair and rinsed the remaining shampoo out. “Personally,” she began, turnin’ off the water and picking up the towel I’d set out for her, “After we get Roxy, I would like to wait another few days. I have to hope our military is mounting some kind of offensive against these things.”

  “Not accordin’ to that Micky dude,” I said. “The word decimated sticks in my head. That’s how he described our police and military. Hell, Sonya’s about proved that already.”

  Georgina sighed and toweled off her hair, then wrapped the towel around her like women do. They all know how to make a little dress outta those damned things, and I can’t even keep one on my waist for three or four steps before it falls off.

  She sat in the chair beside me. “What’s today?

  “It’s day four,” I said. “It was Thursday when our last tour went to shit with that black rain. That makes it a workday. Monday.”

  “I can’t stand to think what’s happened at the hospital,” she said, her eyes distant. “I know you were there. Those poor patients. The staff. Everyone.”

  I thought about it for a bit. “Let’s give it until maybe the end of the week sometime. If we’re still alive and those things out there are still runnin’ amok, I’m all for grabbin’ your daughter and headin’ out west.”

  “Thank you, Cole.”

  “No problem. Florida’s a great state, but escape options are limited if you don’t have a boat,” I said. “Get on I75 and head north, and that’s pretty much it. At least we have a whole compass worth of options from Kansas.”

  Ω

  Two more tense days slipped by, and we kept the ham radio on as much as we could. We never caught another peep from Micky Rode, travelin’ DJ. I assumed that if he had taken off, he was a whole bunch of miles away by now, and we’d have to get just a bit luckier to pick up his transmissions.

  I saw our pre-packaged food beginnin’ to wane, and nobody wanted to risk a trip to Publix, our local grocery stores. Mainly it was because we’d likely have to kill things along the way. Don’t get me wrong, I like shootin’ shit, but when that shit is shaped like people, it sours it for me a bit.

  The only thing we had a lot of was gator meat, and while it can be tasty when prepared right – and yeah, I know how to do that – we had enough to spare.

  So, this is where I come back to the first part of my story where I decided it was time to head to Denny Jessup’s place; not just to check on him, but to trade some of our plentiful gator meat for some more propane. We still needed to make it to Thursday and beyond, and it didn’t look like much was gonna change with the world. Plus, we’d probably need more fuel as the trip to Key West would use its share.

  Together, we’d made the call. We were headin’ to Lebanon, Kansas, suspected asscrack of the good ol’ USA, but pending solid confirmation of that suspicion.

  I figured a run to Denny’s place to stock up on necessities would be a good break in the boredom of the waiting game. The strange gators kept us on edge, but there weren’t many of the human things around us.

  Keep in mind, I’m not bored of Georgie. I don’t know if it’s the situation or what, but I feel a genuine attraction to her, and I like her. A whole lot. If I was left to my own devices any other time except for a zombie a-fuckin’-pocalypse, I’d be fine just sittin’ there talkin’ to her all day and into the night.

  Other stuff would happen, too, but that’s private. As Clay used to say, that’s nunya. When I’d ask, “Nunya?” He’d say, “Nunya fuckin’ business.”

  Anyway, I told my sis, Sonya and Georgie to stay at the house. I could go faster alone, and if I needed to haul Denny back with some supplies, I’d need room in the boat. If Denny was at his house, I figured I’d offer him a spot in the Rover.

  Okay, now. Back to me crawlin’ out from under that low boardwalk.

  Ω

  “You fucked our boat good, didn’t you?” asked Lilly, as I slogged through the water and she took out two more dead heads amblin’ toward me.

  “I have no goddamned idea how long I’ve been under that boardwalk,” I said, climbin’ out of the waist-deep water and rollin’ over the port rail, into the boat.

  She put her rifle down in the seat behind her. She wore jean shorts and white, canvas shoes, with a plaid, button-down shirt tied at her midriff. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

  As she fired the motor and pushed the throttle forward, she said, “Georgina was about beside herself when you didn’t come back or radio in. Have you been screwing her?”

  I stared at my sister. “First of all, if I had, you’d know it from Jessup’s place for all the screamin’. Second, head this boat over to Denny’s. Just because I fucked up doesn’t mean he should suffer.”

  “You read my mind,” she said, holdin’ up two large freezer baggies filled with gator meat. “I figured you never made it to Denny’s, or you’d have radioed from there. I also figured you’d flipped the boat and lost what you had to trade him for the propane.”

  “Shit,” I said. “Didn’t realize you were a psychic.”

  “It’s called critical thinking,” she said. “I think what you’d do, then I do the opposite.”

  “I’m too tired for this shit, Lil,” I said. “Hope Denny’s okay. He seemed pretty messed up when we saw him the other day.”

  “You and your fuckbuddy?”

  “Jeez, Lilly. I’m startin’ to think you’re jealous.”

  I’d been glad she’d brought the skiff rather than the one of the airboats, but seein’ as how the conversation was too snarky for my likin’, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  “We’ve got more important shit to deal with, Cole. Those damned things are everywhere, and now they’re making their way into our swamp. Who knows how many cars crashed and flipped up on the Alley. There were only like ten of those things. Do you realize how many tourists can fit into one of those tour buses?”

  “Add four or five more. Standin’ in the swamp when I came around the corner. That’s what flipped me. I didn’t have time to turn.”

  Lilly made three more turns and I saw Jessup’s house ahead, in the wanin’ da
ylight. I couldn’t help but look over at the stiffening body of his dog, Jax, as she coasted by his dock. A thick swarm of flies now hung over the carcass along with the growing number of maggots, and I wondered if he’d found his old friend yet.

  I grabbed the dock line and jumped off, tying the bow off, then the stern. Lilly hopped out, her rifle in her hands.

  “You got another gun?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she said, pulling a 9mm pistol from beneath the helm before jumping out. She gave it to me and I checked the magazine.

  “It’s full,” she said. “Here.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out another full mag. “And an extra.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t need it.” I looked at the house. It didn’t look any different than it had, but not seein’ Denny made me nervous.

  “Hope he’s alright,” said Lilly, as we walked along the dock toward the path leading up to Denny’s house.

  “He said somethin’ about goin’ to find Sally, but I told him not to.”

  “I know you’re not married, but if someone told you not to look for me, would you listen?”

  “Hell no,” I said, holdin’ up my hand. “I don’t hear a gen runnin’.”

  “Lights are all out,” she said, eyein’ the sky. “It’ll be dark in a few minutes.”

  We approached the door, which was closed. I spotted somethin’ on the stoop. “Lil, look.”

  She did. “Those drops. Blood?”

  “Looks like it,” I said, my voice low.

  She reached out and put her hand on the doorknob. “Ready?” she whispered.

  “Should we knock?”

  “Not sure why, but it doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, a little stealth. Go on.”

  She turned the knob and eased the door open. Nothin’ moved or otherwise jumped out at us.

  “Leave it open, it’s too dark,” I said.

  “I was going to,” she said. “You know where the generator is?”

  “Good thinkin’,” I said. “It’s over by the garage. Stay on the porch until I get back or come with me.”