The Loudest Silence_A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Novel

by Kate L. Mary

  “I know,” I said as I wrung out my own hair.

  Something pinged against the roof above us, followed immediately by more. The thuds grew in frequency and then in intensity, banging against the walls and windows, echoing through the otherwise silent house. I didn’t need to look outside to know it was hail, but I moved to the window anyway. Kellan did, too, and we stood side by side watching as little balls of ice bounced off the car and ground. Thankfully, they weren’t as big as the golf ball sized hail we’d gotten a couple weeks ago. These were closer to the size of my fingertip.

  “They’re not too big,” Kellan said, almost to himself. “Shouldn’t break the windshield.”

  “Let’s hope not,” I murmured.

  A burst of lightning lit up the dark room and a boom shook the house, rattling the windows in their frames. Kellan looked up like he thought the whole second floor might get ripped off, and I turned my gaze to the window. The hail had eased off, and only a few small balls of ice were visible, bouncing off the ground, but the rain was coming down harder than it had been. Between it and the dark clouds, visibility was poor, but whenever a flash of lightning lit up the sky, the outside became frighteningly visible. The trees shook from the rain and wind, while random items whose origins I couldn’t even guess at flew across the yard. The clouds in the distance had thickened and lowered, and even in the quick flash of light I could tell they were rotating more than they had been. And they were close.

  “Kellan.” It was all I could say because it felt like my throat was locked in the grip of an abnormally strong zombie.

  “There’s a cellar.” He turned away, heading deeper into the house.

  I turned my back to the window but didn’t move. My heart was pounding. My legs shaking. Tornados were common in Oklahoma, and growing up, I’d been rushed down to the storm cellar when the siren went off more times than I could count. But it had been years since I’d been in this position. We lived underground. We were safe from stuff like this.

  “Regan!” Kellan called from the back of the house.

  I took off, pausing long enough to sweep both of our bags up off the floor.

  “Regan!” he called again.

  “Coming.” I rolled my eyes, but my heart was pounding even harder.

  He was in the laundry room. At his side, the long ago useless washer and dryer sat, rusted from years of disuse, and the hot water heater next to it hadn’t fared much better. It was the open door that drew my attention, though. Or, more accurately, the stairs that led into blackness.

  An underground shelter that hadn’t seen human activity in nearly a decade could hold its own dangers. Oklahoma had poisonous snakes, and although they typically liked the heat of the outdoors, anything was possible. On top of that, we had spiders. Brown recluse and black widow, both were native to the area. Tarantulas, too, and even though they weren’t as big of a threat as their smaller cousins, they still scared the shit out of me.

  I took a deep breath. “Are we sure we need to go down there?”

  “You’re not scared, are you?” He gave me a quick and strained smile as he took his bag from me.

  “Of course, I am,” I muttered. “There could be all kinds of stuff down there, and we don’t have a single flashlight.”

  “I have a candle.” Kellan didn’t look my way as he dug through his bag. “Good thinking with the bags.”

  Another boom shook the house, followed by a gust of wind that made it seem like the walls might fall down around us at any moment. My fear of being crushed—or swept off to Oz like Dorothy—won out over my fear of creepy crawlies. The basement was our only option.

  Outside, the howl of the wind had taken on a deafening sound that reminded me of the roar of heavy machinery. The windows rattled harder in their frames. The house groaned. Something beat against the roof over and over again—a tree branch, no doubt—until it sounded like it was about to break through.

  “Ready?” Kellan passed me the small candle.

  It was only four inches long and maybe an inch in diameter. Not only would it do very little to light a dark basement, but it wouldn’t last long.

  Regardless, I held it dutifully while Kellan struck two pieces of flint together. He got a spark on the first try, but the wick didn’t catch. Thankfully, the second one worked, because at that exact moment something slammed against the wall in the other room. I felt the pressure drop. I couldn’t explain it; I just knew that was what was happening. My ears popped, and a window shattered in the other room. The roar of the wind tripled.

  A scream involuntarily ripped its way out of me.

  Kellan grabbed my arm, pushing me toward the stairs. “Go, Regan! Now!”

  I held the candle out in front of me, ignoring the trembling in my limbs as I hurried down. The stairs were wooden and old and gave a little with every step, but the walls on either side were cement. Their sturdiness comforted me even as another boom shook the house.

  Kellan pulled the door shut behind him. “Faster!”

  He pushed me, and I nearly stumbled, but somehow managed to both hang onto the candle and stay on my feet. Above us, the house sounded like it was being ripped apart, and the ceiling shook from the impact.

  I reached solid ground and had only a second to inspect the dark corners before the door to the cellar was ripped off. Wind swept into the room, muggy and damp, and deafening in its intensity. I ducked my head, wanting to cover it with my arms, but the candle prevented it. Not that it mattered when a second round of wet air burst into the room, extinguishing our only source of light.

  Kellan grabbed my arm and pulled. “This way!” he yelled over the howl of the wind. “Deeper! Away from the stairs!”

  I allowed him to pull me forward, no longer concerned about bugs or snakes. Above us, there was a crash, followed by a groan that seemed to shake even the cement walls. Kellan pushed me down, curling his body over mine as he forced me to my knees. I squeezed my eyes shut even though we were surrounded by darkness, and reached for him, desperate to hold onto something.

  “It’s okay,” he said, his lips right against my ear. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Somehow, my hand found his in the darkness. He wrapped his fingers around mine and squeezed, and I twisted my body so I was facing him.

  “I love you, Kellan,” I said, pressing my face against his chest. “I love you.”

  Another boom shook the house, and I screamed. Kellan’s arms wrapped more tightly around me. My eyes were still squeezed shut, my hand still in his, and I found myself holding my breath as the storm raged above us.

  The roar lessened, subtly at first, and then more until I was actually able to hear the sound of Kellan breathing. It faded fast after that, but Kellan and I didn’t move right away. My heart was pounding like mad, my breath coming out in short gasps, and my eyes were still squeezed shut when Kellan finally detached himself from the ironclad grip I had on him.

  “Regan.” Like me, he was gasping, and my name came out like a deep exhale.

  I pried one eye open to find light streaming into the cellar from behind him, and his brown eyes trained on my face.

  “You’re okay.” He grabbed my shoulders and looked me over, his fingers flexing like he wanted to hold me tighter but was trying to restrain himself. “You’re okay.”

  “I’m okay.” I swallowed. “Are you?”

  “Yeah.” Kellan didn’t let me go, but he did look over his shoulder, back toward the stairs and the light streaming into the basement. “Holy shit. That slammed right into us.”

  “It was a close one.”

  I was partly talking to him and partly trying to convince myself that I was okay. Yes, the tornado had come close. Yes, the house was most likely destroyed. But we were okay.

  Kellan finally released me, and the sudden loss of his warm skin on mine pulled my gaze from the stairs.

  He was still staring at me, but when my eyes met his, he looked away. “We should get moving.”

  Kellan got to his feet
, swiping the candle up off the floor in the process. He turned toward the stairs but didn’t move, and though he said nothing, I instinctively knew he was waiting for me.

  I pulled myself up on shaky legs. The rain seemed to have stopped completely, and above us the world was silent except the occasional groan from what was left of the house. Still, I hadn’t completely recovered from my near death experience, and when I took a step toward the stairs, my body began to shake harder.

  Kellan looked back at me. “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  It was a lie, but when he started walking, I forced myself to follow him.

  We paused to grab our bags, which we’d discarded at the base of the stairs, before heading up. The wooden steps were amazingly intact, considering not only had the door been ripped away, but part of the ceiling as well. The bright light shining into the stairwell made it difficult to see, even when I squinted and covered my eyes.

  Kellan reached the first floor and froze, not only blocking me from being able to see what was left of the house, but also trapping me in the stairwell. I touched his arm, and he jumped but stepped aside, and I was able to get my first look at the farmhouse.

  It had been obliterated.

  The second floor was gone, either scattered across the yard or carried away by the tornado, and only one of the four exterior walls of the first floor remained. Beyond that, there were a few walls still up, the ones surrounding the small bathroom and the one where the fireplace sat, but almost everything else had been reduced to kindling. The refrigerator was on its side, and even though the lower kitchen cabinets were miraculously intact, the upper ones and the oven had been carried away by the storm. I spied pieces of both scattered across the back yard.

  “Holy shit,” Kellan said, turning in a circle so he could get the full effect.

  I did the same, trembling at the sight of the flattened barn. In the front yard, the tree that had dropped a branch on the roof years ago was now uprooted and lying on its side, its limbs having submerged our car.

  “Shit,” Kellan said again then took off through the house, his sights set on the car.

  I ran after him, picking my way over debris left behind by the tornado. Pieces of the house littered the living room. Sections of the wall, two by fours split in half, and bundles of pink insulation. There were other items that hadn’t been in the house before the storm, too. Like a pink bike lying on its side in the middle of the living room, and a rusty old motorcycle upside down on the porch.

  As I picked my way through the debris, a moan made me freeze. It took a moment to figure out where it was coming from, but then I spotted a decaying hand sticking out from underneath a tangled mass of wood and wires. The tornado must have carried the poor bastard here. Since there was no way the zombie would be able to haul himself out from underneath the debris, I kept walking.

  Kellan was at the car before I’d made it out. Only the hood peeked out from between the tree limbs, dented in a few places but otherwise looking pretty good, considering what had just happened. Kellan pulled random pieces of debris off and tossed them aside before trying to squeeze under the branches. It only took one look at the mess to realize it was hopeless, but that didn’t stop him from attempting to wiggle his way through the tangle of limbs that had engulfed the car.

  “Kellan!” I jogged over and grabbed his arm. “Stop. You’re not going to be able to get in there.”

  “I have to. If I don’t, we’re screwed.” He brushed me off, glancing my way for only a moment before going back to trying to maneuver his way through the branches. “If we can’t get it out, we’re going to have to walk back to the shelter.”

  “Shit.”

  He was right, but I also knew I was right. There was no way he was getting into that car.

  He made it a little further in, gaining some access to the car, but the branches made it impossible for him to get the doors open. “It doesn’t look too bad.” He ducked lower and was engulfed in green branches. “The roof is a little beat up, and the front window is cracked, but that’s about it.” He popped into view again, looking my way. “If we can get it out, I think it’ll be salvageable.”

  I knelt and tried to get a look at the car through the branches. From what I could see, he was right. The heaviest part of the tree, the trunk, hadn’t landed on the car. If we could somehow untangle it from the mess of branches, we might still be able to drive it, but I didn’t think that was possible without a saw of some kind.

  “We need tools,” I called out to him.

  “Yeah.” Kellan ducked down and was once again out of sight. “A chainsaw would be nice.”

  “What are the odds we’ll be able to find one?”

  He popped up, grinning. “Do you know Jasper at all?”

  “You’re telling me Jasper has a chainsaw?” I found myself laughing because as soon as the words passed my lips I knew he would. Jasper was prepared for everything.

  “Yup.” Kellan pushed his way through the branches, emerging in a puff of green leaves. He brushed his hands down his shirt like he was trying to dust himself off, but it was pointless. We were both covered in dirt. “He’s never used it. I actually gave him a hard time about it.” Kellan shook his head. “I need to remember to give the old guy more credit.”

  “He did save all our asses,” I pointed out.

  “You don’t ever have to remind me of that.” Kellan let out a deep breath, and his smile faded. “Only problem is, it’s back at the shelter.”

  “Which means we have to walk.” I exhaled and closed my eyes. “How far is it?”

  “Five more miles, maybe.”

  “Okay. That’s not too bad.”

  I opened my eyes to find Kellan studying the sky. “Looks like the weather has passed for now.”

  Behind me, in the direction the tornado had gone, the sky was still dark gray, and the occasional burst of lightning could be seen, but behind Kellan the clouds had begun to give way to blue.

  “Thank God.” I turned to look at the ruined house. “We’re kind of out of options to take cover.”

  “The basement would still work if it came to it.” He headed for the house. “Let’s see if we can find any supplies.”

  17

  It was early afternoon and nearing the hottest time of the day when Kellan and I set out. Five miles wasn’t much. We could cover it in less than two hours if we had to, except we didn’t have a drop of water, we were totally exposed to the sun, in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, and we were low on ammo. Hopefully, we didn’t run into any trouble bigger than a zombie or two, which we could easily take down with our knives.

  “Be on the lookout,” he said, “and not only for zombies.”

  With the open road in front of us, and too many possible dangers to count, he’d reverted to natural born leader mode. For once, it didn’t annoy me. Instead, it made me think about what he’d said last night, and I found myself replaying all the times he’d been overly protective of me. It wasn’t just about me, I realized. He’d been doing it for himself as well.

  “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  Kellan glanced my way when I didn’t argue for the first time in probably forever, and I smiled.

  We’d been walking for only thirty minutes or so when the roar of an engine made my steps falter. I turned in a slow circle, while at my side Kellan pulled his gun. Like me, he was scanning the surrounding area, but thanks to the rocky terrain it was hard to see far. Plus, with the end of the drought, we’d lost the dust trails that used to give the location of other vehicles away.

  “Where’s it coming from?” I lifted my hand to my forehead, trying to shield my eyes from the bright sun.

  “I don’t know.” Kellan moved to my side, his gaze darting around. Unlike before, it didn’t look like he was searching for the car. “I want you to hide.”

  My hand dropped to my side, and I turned to face him. “Hide? We don’t even know who they are, let alone if they’re a threat.”
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br />   Kellan spun my way, grabbing my arm in a grip that was tight but not painful. His brown eyes were wide, panicked. “I won’t risk it, understand? I told you, Regan, if something happened to you, it would end me.”

  “Kellan, I—”

  “I’m serious, Regan.”

  The hum of the engine grew louder, and then it was too late for me to say or do anything because it was there, zooming around a hill right in front of us.

  The truck was old. The rusty, yellow paint was faded and dull, and it had tires taller than I was. Four lights lined the top of the cab, but it took only one look at them to see that most were no longer functioning. One was black, as if the bulb had burst and burned the wires, while two others looked like they’d been shot out. Hopefully, it wasn’t by someone trying to defend themselves from whoever was driving the truck, because before Kellan and I could react, it had skidded to a stop in front of us.

  We were frozen, waiting for the moment when the door would open and we’d know if the driver was friend or foe. The bright glare from the sun made it impossible to see through the windshield, meaning we had no idea how many people we were up against. Hopefully, it was only one. Kellan had bullets, and if it was only one person, we might stand a chance. If there were more and they were here to hurt us, we were screwed.

  When the door was thrown open, Kellan dropped my arm and stepped in front of me while simultaneously raising his gun.

  “Whoa!” a deep voice called out. “Just stopped to see if you folks needed a lift.”

  “Keep your hands where I can see them,” Kellan replied.

  “You think this is a fucking western?” The man jumped down but got lost behind one of the massive tires. “I’m not John Wayne, and you sure as hell don’t look like Clint Eastwood.”

  Feet scraped against the ground, and Kellan backed up until he was pressed against me like a human shield. His sudden fierce protectiveness made it impossible for me to think straight. Yes, he’d always looked out for me, but this was something different. The emotions I’d seen in his eyes were something different.