Zombpocalypse (Book 1): Contingency

by Mariah Lynde

  I wondered if I had finally lost my mind – I mean, really, I was worrying about something that had not even happened. There were no news stories outlining a massive outbreak or medical emergency. If anything, it seemed things in the world were relatively quiet.

  There were no facts in the mainstream to reinforce my belief that things this time around were serious. If anyone were to ask for my proof, all I could give them was telling them that the sickening feeling in my gut as warning that everything I’d seen and heard in the last day was different than anything we’d faced before.

  It was that sinking feeling in my gut that had me trekking to the bedroom closet. It had been years since I’d felt the need to dig out the plastic case which held the compound bow. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for the idea that these last few days were but a mere glimpse of what was coming our way, I likely would have never touched the thing again.

  I actually felt a sense of urgency as I pulled the case out of the closet and slid it across the floor to rest in front of me. The black plastic was scraped and dinged up, indicating the amount of times it had been moved carelessly from one location to the next. Satisfied that no real damage had been done to compromise the case, I moved to open it.

  There it was, in all of its camo painted glory. Settled among the fitted interior of felt was the weapon that had been the bane of my existence for a whole summer. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl and pulse, a reminder of those first days learning to shoot when the string would snap back and bite into the soft flesh of my arm.

  While I did not relish the idea of experiencing said pain once again, it wasn’t exactly something that could be avoided. If I had any hope of surviving an apocalypse of the undead, then there would be times when I had to delve straight from the frying pan and into the fire. That meant pain, frustration, and no small amount of cursing would be in my future.

  That small realization left me little time to waste. Pulling the bow out of the case, I turned a critical eye on its surface just to be sure it seemed to be in working order.

  As far as a compound bow went, it was nothing special. Unlike many females who would have insisted on some gaudy color, I happened to be completely at ease with the stock version my parents had acquired. The bow itself was carbon steel, painted with a black base before later being filled in with varying shades of green and brown to create the camouflage effect. It really was an almost perfect weapon of choice. If only I could be a crack shot with it and be a complete bad ass, then all my problems would be handled.

  Giving a small sigh, I let the bow rest in my right hand and exhaled at the familiar weight of it. Even now, several years later, I could feel the grip in the palm of my hand, and for a moment I was a teenager again. Unsure, unhappy, and groaning at the weight of the task ahead of me.

  What could it hurt to forgo this little foray outdoors to practice shooting a weapon I haven’t even held in over five years? The longer I considered the matter, the more I was leaning towards the idea I might just be neurotic and taking things a little too far. In a week, all of this could be some giant laughing stock with my friends hooting and hollering over my episode of manic preparation for the end of the world.

  So, what if I was right? What if all of these events in the last twenty four hours were only a glimpse of what was to come? Could I honestly justify not practicing with the bow now in the calm before the storm? What if things got bad and the world exploded in a mess of blood and brains that had me fighting for my life sooner rather than later?

  The part of my brain that knew this was a life threatening scenario refused to let me entertain the idea of putting this off. My fingers tightened their grip on the bow as I sighed and grabbed the small plastic bag that served a quiver with my free hand.

  “What could it hurt? If I’m wrong, I’ll just have gotten some practice in. Nothing wrong with that.” Muttering to myself, I truly considered the idea that maybe I had gone a little bit crazy. Okay, maybe a lot crazy, but still… At that time, I only had my gut instinct that something big was going on.

  Making sure the front door was locked, I strode through the living/dining room and stopped in front of the couch. As you can well imagine, my furniture was pretty old and kind of ratty looking. Being the penny pincher that I am, I had opted for taking hand-me-down furniture for most things rather than spend my own money on new stuff.

  In light of that, when I had moved here with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, we had accepted a couch from his sister. I suppose I should be grateful he left it behind when we parted ways, but looking at it now, I couldn’t see any reason to be happy about it. The thing was horrendous. A patchwork display of pea green and orange, the small water spots and stains actually gave it that whole Exorcist look that creeped me right the hell out. To be honest, it also did nothing to accentuate the room with its tan colored walls and the hodge-podge of wooden tables and chairs situated around the room. In the almost bland color of the room, the abhorrent color and that stuffy, mothball-like smell I could never quite scrub out of the rough fabric just made me want to rip the thing to shreds. Sadly, even after the ass had left I’d left well enough alone, knowing if I did anything reckless to destroy that couch in full public view, the good Ms. Hawthorne would be right up my ass about it. God knows the woman would have likely used such a situation to get me kicked out of the complex, and that had never been something I was willing to risk.

  So, I’d have to settle for the next best thing to destroying that eyesore. Grabbing one of the pale green throw pillows, I headed for the back door. Stepping out onto my little concrete patio, I took a deep breath. For a moment, I reveled in it. The scent of fresh pines and their sap carried heavily on the wind with a small hint of honeysuckle weaved into the mix. One had to love the late summer/early fall transition in the South. Much as I wanted to enjoy it, now was not the time.

  Opening my eyes once more, I peered out over the trappings of my ‘backyard’. As I stated before, the complex was surrounded by a gate of red brick and iron. What I didn’t tell you was just how large the fence was. Initially, they had closed off the whole of the area they intended to develop, but the company had gone bust before they could begin the next expansion. That particular circumstance is what had left me with a makeshift wooded area behind my unit and the others on this side of the complex while the new owners got their bearings and decided just what they were going to do with the rest of the property.

  For me, this was a blessing since I could sneak into the relatively safe area and practice my targeting without the ever watchful eyes of my neighbors. Oh, I was well aware of the fact someone might have noticed me, but it seemed very unlikely. Hell, if they didn’t see or say anything about the kids that snuck out into the thick wooded area, I pretty much assumed I’d receive the same courtesy or lack thereof.

  Sadly, I would still be limited in the area I had to work with. At most, I had about two acres of wooded seclusion before I ran into a cleared area intended as a parking lot or building foundation, and that was being pretty generous. It was likely a whole lot less than that. Still, I had to work with what was available to me.

  I knew I should be grateful to have even that much to work with, but my mood at the moment would not allow for that. In the course of a single morning/afternoon, I had been reminded of how much I hated where I lived, from the people around me to the society as a whole. It didn’t help matters any that thoughts of the end of everything that had become the status quo for my life would be coming to a quick and abrupt end rather soon. As much as I hated this place and my situation, dealing with these kinds of problems were far more appealing than the end of the world.

  Being lost in those very thoughts happened to be exactly what led to the single most mortifying and embarrassing moment I could remember having in years.

  Trailing towards the tree line, my mind was focused on cataloguing and siphoning through the supplies I had acquired in my recent shopping forays. As I tried to figure out the best way to separate and sto
re said items, I was paying very little attention to the world around me.

  As I stepped into the heavily overgrown patch of woods, I was turning over thoughts about plastic, waterproof containers to store some of my foodstuffs, which made me oblivious to the soft rumble of an engine around the front of my apartment. When my mind spun towards breaking down portions of flour into individual Ziploc bags, I missed the sound of a car door slamming and the muted knocking at the front door to my unit.

  There were so many details to consider that it was proving hard to keep my mind focused on the task at hand. I had come out here with the intention of practicing my archery skills but somewhere in the mix my mind had fractured to focus on anything other than that.

  Had I been paying attention, things might have been different. Unfortunately, as I moved further into the trees, I was turning over thoughts of cooking in possible ‘what if’ scenarios that I might encounter in the future, I walked straight into the thick, damp web of some spider that had made its home between two trees.

  That was my limit.

  There are very few things on my personal freak out list. I mean, think about it. I had beaned a zombie chick that still had a warm body with a fire extinguisher, so squeamish wasn’t exactly my thing. In most situations, you could count on me to hold my shit together and get things done.

  Burning building? Okay.

  Blood and gore? I’m all in.

  Hairy, eight-legged creature that spun webs out of it ass…? Nope.

  Done.

  I do not do spiders. Not one iota of me was capable of coping with them. Arachnophobia is a very real thing, like…mine was to the point of severity that logic went out the damn window when I happened to see one. It is no small thing for me to admit that when it comes to spiders, I am that idiot that will use a hairspray can and a lighter to kill one of those little bastards. Sure, there is a possibility I’ll burn down my home, but I would consider such a thing acceptable collateral damage.

  So, there I was, walking distracted when I step into the web of death that had me instantly swinging around. In the space of 3.5 seconds I became a kung fu master. My hands flailed up wildly in an attempt to de-spider myself as I swung the pillow in my hand up as if it were a samurai sword that would slice my small eight-legged assailant in two.

  Just then, the sound of a twig snapping just behind me had me shrieking again. I didn’t even stop to think is that pillow in my hand went sailing in the direction of the sound as I spun and stumbled, seeing a dark shadow standing just to the side. As the pillow went flying my hand snapped back, karate chopping and slapping my hair, my face, my neck, anywhere that my little arachnid foe could have ended up. Ridiculous as it may have been, it worked as I saw the scurrying little bastard hit the ground and move.

  I didn’t have time to rejoice in my victory, or go chase that eight legged freak to crush it into dust. I still had my new assailant to handle. Whoever…or whatever it was, I had no clue. Considering the fact that no one should have been coming up from behind me, I could only assume this was all sorts of bad. One way or another, I was getting away from this creep and back to my apartment.

  Without a second thought, the hand holding the bow swung up and the string caught me across the chin as I spun. Extending my arm to swing back behind me, I was hoping to catch whoever it was that had snuck up on me with one of the limbs of the bow. I gave my best Xena Warrior Princess yell as it made contact and I was rewarded with an answering grunt.

  Coming to a stop, the bow was brought down in front of me almost like a shield (not that it would do much in the way of defense). Narrowing my eyes to try and see what I was up against, I braced myself for the worst.

  Expecting to see a brain munching, salivating pile of crazy, it took me all of five seconds to realize this was actually so much worse. Standing in front of me, with a red personnel file in hand as he rubbed his welted red cheek, was none other than Cal Mitty.

  Chapter Fifteen – Crazy Train

  What could have been hours, but in reality happened to be mere seconds, I found myself staring at a wide-eyed Cal Mitty. Here I was, in the middle of a wooded area holding a compound bow in front of me like it was some kind of ultimate weapon, and staring at someone who had no business being here.

  As if that weren’t bad enough, panic and a severe case of post-traumatic stress had my pulse racing and my eyes dilated to wide black saucers as I struggled to breathe. Watching him, I could feel my skin heating with a blush that had nothing to do with physical exertion and everything to do with embarrassment.

  So…what do you do when you have just gone all kung fu on a spider web in front of someone you then attacked in a panic? Some would say you offer an apology and graciously try to excuse yourself from the situation. Sadly, I forgot that part.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” The words came out as a near snarl while I remained poised and ready to strike should the situation require it.

  “I came by to talk to you after reading over your file.” Gray eyes narrowed on me, and for a moment I completely forgot that I should be ready to beat the hell out of him.

  The man really was too good looking by far. While he’d been impressive in his suit, today he was dressed in a simple pair of jeans and an Avenged Sevenfold t-shirt. Even still, the clothing only helped to define the broad shoulders and muscular build. And those jeans? I was briefly reminded of the bumper sticker ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy’. If Robbie could have seen me ogling the guy in that moment, he’d have been proud. While I was in mid-admiration that Cal continued and I found myself almost shocked by his reply.

  “Forget what I’m doing here. Why the hell do you look like I should be saying something along the line of ‘may the odds be ever in your favor’?” Cal took a couple of steps back, peering down on me with something close to condescension in his eyes.

  “Ha-ha. How long did it take you to come up with that one?” Any other time, I might have laughed and been impressed by the reference – sadly, today just wasn’t that day.

  “It’s a gift, what can I say?” Cal said. “So, you still haven’t answered my question: Why are you traipsing off into the woods of a development with a weapon? Are you about to eliminate the other tributes? Seriously, I’d like to know if I’ll be answering questions to the cops for the second day in a row.”

  “I promise, no cops.” I grinned up at him then remembered just why I had been out here in the first place. My brows drawing together as I scowled and shook my head, “What I do away from work is no one’s business but my own, so your turn. So, again I ask, what the hell are you doing here?”

  As I asked the question, I saw Cal’s eyes move over me. I felt naked, exposed...vulnerable. At work, it was easy to hide in a sea of red polo shirts and khakis. Now I could only shy away as he seemed to be taking in every single part of my appearance. My own gaze dropped to see ‘Don’t Blink’ emblazoned across the front of my shirt as one hand moved to self-consciously tug at the hem to pull it down past my waist. My hand smoothed down over my shorts, continuing the action of righting my clothing as I avoided Cal’s appraisal. My cheeks flamed red as I tried to find a way to break the uncomfortable silence and get his attention on something other than my attire.

  “Well, I got your address from your personnel file.” He began, holding up the red folder. Relieved to have something else to focus on, I looked to the file and then back to him as he continued, “There are several things I’d like to talk to you about, if you don’t mind.”

  Eyeing him for a moment, I considered the options. I could just tell him to go away, but…on the off chance this apocalypse thing didn’t go off, I needed my job.

  “Are you going to approve my pay raise or something?” I asked.

  “We’ll get back to that in a minute. I find myself intrigued and to quote the rather memorable Hannibal Lecter: ‘quid pro quo, Clarice’. So, I propose this, you ask me questions about what I found in your file, and I ask you about…all this.” He said as he waved
a hand in my direction.

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed at the mention of Silence of the Lambs. I had to admit, Cal Mitty was proving to be slightly amusing, even with me in a foul mood. Still, as far as deals went, this one didn’t seem so bad. The idea of sharing anything about myself, however, was not something I was totally on board with. Still, it seemed reasonable.

  “Fair enough.” I replied. Noting that Cal was watching me so intently, that feeling of uneasiness started kicking up into overdrive. What about me could he possibly find so interesting? Shifting my weight a little, I adjusted the quiver on my shoulder and peered up at him once more, “What would you like to know?”

  “Why the archery get up?” His question was direct and to the point. Let it never be said that Cal Mitty wasted time.

  “Since I had the time off from work, I figured I would spend it doing something useful. Target practice seemed as good a choice as any other.” It may not have been the whole truth, but it would suffice. I didn’t know Cal Mitty from Adam, so spilling my brand of crazy all over him was not exactly a viable option. “Now that I answered your question, you can start with one of mine. Why come to my personal residence for this? Couldn’t you have waited until Monday?”

  “That’s two questions, Miss Everdeen, not one.” Cal chuckled. I frowned as I noted the look of amusement that caused his eyes to twinkle. Honestly, as appealing as he might have been, he was starting to look like a viable subject for target practice. “To answer one of your questions, no. I came here today because what I had to say couldn’t wait until Monday. Now, why are you trying to work on archery?”

  I couldn’t help it, while he seemed to be nothing but curious I felt as if every word was some kind of judgment. That may not have been true, but I could feel my sense of calm slipping away moment by moment in Cal Mitty’s presence. I hated this. No matter what I tried to do, something about this man’s attention made me feel inferior. Besides, if I told him the truth, he’d probably think that I was battier than a belfry.