Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4

by Zachary Stone

  “Alright,” I said.

  Jennifer and I walked into the crowded social hall. The scene was one of barely controlled chaos. Men were having heated conversations while women were trying to console their children. Towards the kitchen, I saw two women arguing. One of them had her finger in the other woman's face. In the direction of the corner in which we had slept the night before, I saw a man in a chair hurriedly loading a rifle.

  We waded through the swarm of activity as we tried to find someone in authority. In the far corner of the room, I saw Reverend McMann and a few other men in dress shirts and ties. They were standing around a small, circular table. As we approached, one brought his fist down on table violently and then stormed out of the room through the doors to the hallway.

  “What's the plan?” I asked as we reached the table.

  “Who are you?” one of the men asked in a derogatory voice.

  “I'm Hank and this Jennifer. We’re just curious what the plan is because we want to help,” I responded.

  “Well, this is a meeting of the board of deacons and I must ask you to leave,” the man stated.

  “Let them stay,” Reverend McMann interjected. “We could use their help.”

  A man with the blue tie took his hands off the table and took a step backwards.

  “By all means, please continue,” he blurted out sarcastically. “We would all appreciate your valuable input.”

  “We don't have a plan yet,” Reverend McMann informed us, while looking angrily at the deacon who had mocked us.

  “But we need one, fast. Do you have any ideas? What would you suggest?” Reverend McMann asked.

  My mind raced. Memories of being holed up in the grocery store, finding Jennifer at the barbershop, finding the relief station at the library, and escaping Sandy Hills flooded my mind. We had made it this far, and I was not about to give in to despair.

  I realized that to have any hope of escaping the onslaught of the freaks we needed to do what we had successfully done before.

  “We need a decoy to lure them away,” I stated.

  Before I could continue explaining the plan I had quickly formulated, everyone in the room heard gunfire from outside. It brought a temporary silence to the room.

  “What do you mean?” Reverend McMann asked.

  “The freaks are attracted by sound. This is especially true during the daytime, when their vision is impaired,” I said. “They’re all headed this way because they heard the church bells. What we need to do is lure them away with another noise.”

  “And just how do you propose we do that?” the sarcastic Deacon asked.

  “Who has the best, loudest stereo system in their vehicle?” I asked. “We can use it to lure away the freaks.”

  “Linwood South,” Rev. McMann stated. “He has a huge truck.”

  “Okay, then. We need to find him, ask for his keys, and get me to his vehicle,” I said.

  “Go get Linwood as fast as you can and bring him here,” Rev. McMann told the Deacon to his left. “Tell him it's an emergency!”

  A series of additional gunshots interrupted us again. Normally I would have run outside to see what was going on, but we had to make plans fast.

  “Now, this is the important thing. We need to get everyone inside. As long as there is gunfire and shooting going on outside at least some of the freaks are going to hang around. Everyone needs to get inside, stay inside, and stay quiet – not matter what,” I said.

  Rev. McMann barked orders at another of his Deacons to tell all the patrols to retreat and regroup in the social hall. I continued laying out my plan to the Reverend as Jennifer held onto my arm. A few moments later, the Deacon returned with Linwood.

  The short, wiry man with a long braided looked up at me and put his hand out.

  “I'm Linwood, I hear you need to borrow my truck,” he stated.

  I shook his hand and was taken aback by his appearance. His long beard was braided in rubber bands and extended down to the middle of his abdomen. His blue jeans looked torn and his short sleeved shirt had an image of a motor cycle riding through hell's flames. I couldn’t read the lettering on his hat, because it was adorned with all kinds of fish hooks and what looked like a lure of some kind.

  “Yes,” I responded to the man. “I need to borrow your truck to distract the freaks. Does it have a loud sound system?”

  “The best in Marlow county,” he stated.

  “Do you have any CDs in the truck?” I asked.

  “Yep,” he said. “You don't have to worry about that – prolly have fifty or so.”

  “Okay, can I have the keys?” I said. “I'll do my best to bring back your truck.”

  “Hey wait a minute, I'm not going to let you go alone,” he responded. “I've spent too much money on that truck to have some city slicking yahoo crash it in a ditch somewhere.”

  “I promise I'll be careful,” I said.

  “No, I'm coming with you,” he said. “You’ll need me to operate the sound system while you drive.”

  “Okay,” I conceded.

  At that point I felt Jennifer's fingernails dig into my arm.

  “I’m coming along,” she said.

  “No, you can't,” I said. “Not this time.”

  “We’re not splitting up,” she said. “I'm not going to go through that again. Hank, I love...”

  She paused. I couldn’t believe what I had heard.

  “Listen,” I said. “If you’re with me I’ll be distracted. You have always distracted me. I’ve never been able to take my eyes off you since the day I met you. But right now, getting distracted by you, while going out there, could get me killed.”

  She looked at me with exasperation; she clearly was not happy with me.

  “I think it's going to be safe in here. They have the place barricaded pretty well. Just go find Roy and Kay and stay with them until I get back and this is over. They seem like good people,” I told her.

  She started to speak, but I interrupted her.

  “I don't have time,” I said. “We have to go.”

  I quickly pulled her towards me, embraced her, and let go.

  “Now go! Find Roy and his wife,” I commanded.

  I felt like I was being rude and bossy to her. It was not like me. Normally, I wouldn’t speak in that tone of voice to her or anyone else. But this apocalypse was changing me; it was changing lots of things.

  “Keep everyone quiet,” I told Reverend McMann.

  Turning towards the exit to the fenced off perimeter, I saw a number of patrols entering the social hall. They were obeying the orders the church leadership had given them. There was no more gunfire outside, and the room was quieting down.

  “Do you have a firearm?” I asked Linwood.

  “Does a fish swim in water?” he quipped before pulling out a pistol from his pocket.

  “Wait until you see what I have in the truck!” he exclaimed.

  “Okay, good. Let’s go!” I said.

  As we walked out of the social hall, I could see dozens of freaks lumbering around the church yard. More were wandering the fields, and there would surely be more arriving soon.

  “We need to hurry,” I told Linwood.

  As we rushed towards the gate we saw Meredith standing beside it. She was the only patrol who had refused to obey Reverend McMann's order.

  “You need to get inside,” I told her.

  “No, I'm coming with you,” she said.

  “So you heard about the plan?” I asked.

  “I got the basics,” she said.

  “There’s no reason to risk your life,” I said. “The two of us can handle this.”

  I watched as she started to unwrap the bandage on her arm.

  “It's infected,” she informed us. “I don't feel bad, but look at the red lines.”

  The wound did look infected.

  “If I'm going to die, I want to go out my way – doing something meaningful,” she said. “Let me help!”

  “You’ll have to sit
in the back with all my fishing equipment,” Linwood said

  “Fine,” said Meredith.

  I unsheathed my long, stainless steel butcher knife. Meredith's blade was already in her hand.

  “Let’s move,” I ordered.

  We exited the gate and secured it behind us. I followed Linwood as he led us to the left, around to a side of the church I hadn’t examined closely before. Positioned on a series of wooden mounts were two long rows of solar panels; they were obviously the source of electricity for the church. A wire ran out from the array and into a hole drilled into a window frame. Next to the panels was a small play area for children with a couple of slides and a swing set.

  We had run between the parked vehicles to avoid the freaks that were coming in increased numbers now. Luckily we were all quite nimble and were able to dodge their flailing arms and menacing snarls.

  Linwood was soon standing next to a vehicle that towered above the parked sedans and station wagons. Flaming red with giant tires that seemed to reach up to my chest, the truck seemed like it would be the ideal vehicle for the mission.

  “Go get the truck started, but don't turn the music on until yet,” I said. “We will cover you.”

  Linwood lowered a step ladder on the driver’s side and climbed into the truck. Meredith and myself turned around as we heard the engine crank up.

  Two freaks were approaching and they needed to be dispatched. As the first freak approached, I carefully looked for a safe opening to attack and drove my blade into its skull. I retracted my blade and watched as Meredith kicked in the knee of the second freak. It collapsed to the ground, and she proceeded to drive her machete into the back of its neck.

  “That felt good,” she said.

  I looked around and saw another freak approaching from behind a small, yellow vehicle. The lower jaw of this freak was shattered and hanging loose. It had a number of teeth missing as it slowly staggered towards me. Without a moment of hesitation I ran towards the freak and took its head off with one smooth stroke of my butcher’s knife.

  With no additional freaks in our immediate vicinity, we looked back towards the giant truck we were supposed to climb into. Linwood had backed the vehicle up so that it was now positioned in the lane between two rows of parked vehicles. He was now sitting in the passenger seat, and the driver’s side door was open.

  “Come on, get in!” Linwood called out.

  “You go first,” I told Meredith.

  She proceeded to climb up the step ladder on the driver’s side and maneuver her body into the back. I then climbed into the driver’s seat and folded up the ladder. I closed my door, locked it, and rolled down the window.

  “Can you drive a stick?” Linwood asked.

  “It's been a while, but yes,” I said.

  “Hold on, Meredith,” I called out. “Don't fall out of the truck.”

  I slowly let off the clutch and pressed the gas pedal. The vehicle moved forward as I drove the vehicle out of the parking area.

  “So what do we do now?” Linwood asked.

  “Turn on the music,” I said, “and make it loud.”

  “What should I play?” asked Linwood digging through his seemingly bottomless glove compartment. “I’ve got Patsy Cline, Kenny Rogers . . ."

  “No, something that will get their attention!”

  “Hey, I got it – ZZ Top!” beamed Linwood. It was the first time I had seen him smile – he was missing a few teeth.

  “Perfect – put it in the CD player, and crank it up!”

  Linwood put the disc in the slot and pressed the play button. Nothing happened.

  “Just wait,” he said, “it won’t take long.”

  I was driving slowly around the parking lot was careful to avoid hitting any of the freaks, although if I did, it would probably not be a disaster. The truck had a large front bumper that would probably be impact resistant and the tires were so large, the truck would probably not be damaged by running over any freaks crawling on the ground.

  All of a sudden the opening riffs of “Sharp Dressed Man” blasted out of the speakers behind our seats, drowning out all other sounds. My bones were literally rattling from the sound as I noticed we had gotten the attention of the freaks. There were now dozens of them coming towards us from all directions.

  Trying to ignore the pain in my ears, I drove the vehicle onto the driveway of the church. A couple of the freaks were only a few dozen feet away; they were getting too close for comfort. I put the vehicle in reverse and started to slowly back up towards the main road. Swinging the vehicle around, I dodged one of the petrified creatures and then another.

  Through the rear view mirror I could see Meredith was still in the back, standing in the bed of the truck holding onto one of the railings.

  “DOES SHE HAVE A GUN?” I yelled at Linwood through the loud music.

  “I DON'T KNOW!” he yelled.

  He reached up behind us and pulled a compact shotgun that had been secured to a gun rack.

  “IS IT LOADED?” I shouted.

  “WHAT?” he asked. I realized he couldn’t hear me well with the music playing.

  “I-S I-T L-O-A-D-E-D!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  “YES!” he confirmed.

  He handed me the semi-automatic shotgun. I doubted the barrel was of legal length; it seemed to be less than eighteen inches long. Despite its illegality, I accepted it graciously and reached out the window with it.

  I quickly turned down the volume for a moment, and I shouted at Meredith to take the gun.

  “Take out any freaks that get close,” I said.

  She took the shotgun and nodded.

  I drove onto the main road and turned east. There were a number of freaks ahead of us on the road. But as we approached each of them, Meredith would take them out with the shotgun. At close range, their heads would almost explode from the buckshot.

  We slowly made our way down the road. Freaks were following the sound of the music blasting through the trucks speakers. I hoped that we had lured away most of them from the church, but I had no way of knowing how many had followed us.

  “HOW FAR SHOULD WE GO?” Linwood asked.

  “I DON'T KNOW!” I answered.

  I scanned my surroundings for any feature that might seem useful or helpful. Mostly, we were in farm country. In the distance were fields of cotton and soybeans. What I needed was a safe place to park the truck. However, the vehicle was so large it would be difficult to hide.

  I heard a slapping on my window and looked at my rear view mirror. It was Meredith. I turned down the volume enough to hear her ask if we had any more ammo. Linwood reached under his seat and pulled out a small cardboard box. He opened it and removed the two red cartridges, and then handed me the box.

  “Tell her to load up with these,” he said.

  I handed her the box as I saw a freak approaching us from the side of the road. I quickly pulled out my revolver, reached out of the vehicle as far as I could, and fired. The shot hit the decaying body of the old, woman directly in the face.

  “Keep going,” Linwood said.

  I turned the volume back up. ZZ Top echoed through the countryside.

  I accelerated and continued down the road. We were now at least three miles from the church. However, we had a long trail of freaks following us.

  “LET’S GET OUT AND MAKE SOME NOISE!” I shouted.

  We stopped and got out of the truck. My ears were still ringing from the loud music.

  “I'll take the rear,” I said. “Linwood, you cover the left and the front. Meredith, cover the right.”

  “Shoot every freak you see, but don't let them get too close to the truck,” I ordered.

  One by one I fired at the freaks that approached us from behind. Out of the first five rounds I fired, I took out five of the freaks. I quickly reloaded and continued firing. Their dead, decaying bodies began to litter the road behind the vehicle. As I continued firing, the pile of corpses only grew higher; it created an obstac
le course for the freaks and slowed them down. Every time a freak stopped to step over a body, it gave me a perfect opportunity to aim and fire.

  Meredith had decided to take out a few freaks that were coming at the truck from what looked like a classic, southern home with a wraparound porch. She had no problem eliminating the monsters with her machete.

  Linwood fired at the freaks as they walked out of some nearby trees towards us. He was also a good shot, but he would occasionally miss. Every miss was followed by a curse, and when he fired again he’d always hit his target.