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

by Zachary Stone

  “Tell your big fat momma to back off and let us pass or she’s dead,” Meredith stated.

  “You skinny witch,” the fat woman responded.

  The attention of the fat woman and her kin were now on Meredith. It was now my time to act. I hesitated, but then I thought of Jennifer. This might be my only way to see her again. If I got out of the van there is no telling what would happen to me. Even if I escaped them, I might not be able to make it all the way back to the church on foot.

  Jennifer was what mattered now.

  I had to think fast. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I had to do something to extricate us from this situation. A few yards away from where the woman was standing was a clothesline with sheets and clothes on it flapping in the There was no one standing near it – a perfect target. In an instant I turned the gun and aimed directly at the clothesline.

  A giant blast of flame poured out of the end of the barrel. I could see the light from the dragon's breath with my eyes closed; it was so bright it penetrated my eyelids.

  At the same instant I felt a burning sensation in my hand. The incendiary round had created so much heat the shotgun handle was scalding hot. I dropped the shotgun onto the ground and tried to open my eyes.

  “Go, go, go!” I heard Linwood say.

  I looked out the window. I saw people running as far away from the flames as they could, and the old woman who had challenged us had fallen backwards in shock.

  Her family members were clearing out of the road ahead of us, running from the flames. The moment the road was clear I hit the gas. I zoomed forward and tried to put as much distance as possible between the family and ourselves. However, the younger woman with the handgun had started firing at us. Most of her shots were missing, but one managed to make it into the cab. It penetrated the rear window and cracked the windshield.

  “Don’t shoot,” I shouted through the window to Meredith. “There are children back there.”

  I accelerated until I could no longer see anyone in the rearview mirror.

  We were back in a wooded area again. I slowed down as the road became narrow.

  “Where did you get that shell?” I asked Linwood.

  “I didn’t buy it, I made it,” he stated.

  “How did you learn to make it?” I questioned.

  “You can learn to make anything on the internet,” he said.

  I looked at my hand and realized it was slightly red; the first degree burns were obvious. When I got back to the church I would need to do something about it. However, I needed to find out how long it would take to get back to the church.

  “The main road is just ahead,” Linwood stated. “At the road just turn left.”

  Another freak appeared ahead of us, but it was quickly dispatched by Meredith's shotgun.

  As we made our way to the main road, I thought about Jennifer. I hoped she was alright and that the church had remained secure. Also, I thought of the little dog we had adopted. I wondered where it was and if it had been fed.

  When we reached the main road I saw a few abandoned cars and a few vehicles with bodies in them. A couple of freaks approached us, and I decided to put the bumper of the vehicle to the test. At a fairly slow speed I ran into one of the freaks and hit it with the front bumper. The freak's skull cracked and the creature fell backwards as I proceeded to drive over its legs.

  A few minutes later we were nearing the church. We passed by Robert's house on the way there. Only a few freaks roamed his yard.

  The remainder of the trip back to the church was uneventful. It seemed like the freaks had scattered and only a few stray ones remained.

  Finally, we were at the church. The patrols were outside again. There were bodies everywhere. It seemed like someone had decided to start fighting the freaks instead of waiting inside for them to wander off on their own.

  We pulled into the church yard, and I parked the truck near the gate to the fenced off area near the social hall. I thanked Linwood for the use of his vehicle, and tried to thank Meredith, but she didn’t want to talk to me.

  I grabbed my back pack filled with ammo, and I headed towards the social hall. Upon entering, I saw that the room was once again in chaos. Looking around I saw Ms. Teresa in the distance. She saw me as well and walked towards me. As she approached she reached for me and I jumped backwards.

  “No offense, but you’re not going to touch me this time,” I said.

  “I'm so sorry for the pain that caused you,” she responded. “But it was God's will that you receive the Holy Ghost.”

  “I want all the help I can get, but next time please ask before you pray for me,” I said.

  “Okay, but you should know your plan worked,” she said. “You lured away most of the dead folks from the church. The patrols were able to take out the rest of them.”

  “They were supposed to stay inside,” I said.

  “We couldn’t stop them,” she explained. “They were determined to go out there and defend the church.”

  “Have you seen Jennifer?” I asked Ms. Teresa.

  “Yes, she’s fine,” she answered.

  “Where is she? I want to see her.” I asked.

  “You’ll see her soon. My brother told me to bring you to him right away, as soon as I saw you,” she said.

  “That will have to wait,” I told her. “I'm going to see Jennifer first.”

  She could tell I was determined. “Well, if you must . . . but please make your visit with Jennifer brief.”

  “Where is Jennifer?” I asked.

  “She’s with Roy and Kay Bridges in their room. It is the third door on the left,” she answered.

  “Thanks,” I said as I headed to the hallway.

  I quickly opened the door to the room and found Jennifer on the floor, reading to one of their children. Roy and Kay were on the other side of the room resting on two separate cots. They sat up as soon as I entered the room.

  Jennifer looked up at me, and told the girl that they would read some more later. She stood as if to greet me, but instead of getting the hug I was hoping for, she slapped me in t

  “That is for leaving me,” she said. “You told me that we wouldn’t be separated again!”

  I was stunned, and said nothing.

  After looking at me for a moment, her face softened a little, “But I'm glad you have made it back,” she said.

  “I just wanted to let you know I am okay,” I said, still bewildered about this strange greeting. “I think the threat is gone, for the moment. How are things here?”

  “We’re all fine, but I'm afraid for the girl that rang the bell and the other teenagers. They have locked them into a room, and I heard that they may kick them out of the church all together,” Jennifer said.

  “The sorry tramp deserves being kicked out after threatening all our lives,” I said.

  “She’s just a kid,” Jennifer said.

  “But actions have consequences,” I said.

  There was a knock at the door, and Reverend McMann put his head into the room

  “Come in,” said Roy.

  “Reverend Sikes wants to talk with you, Hank” he said.

  I turned and looked at Jennifer.

  “I have to go for a bit,” I'll be back.

  “No, I'm going too,” she said.

  “I don't think that is wise,” I responded.

  “Try to stop me,” said Jennifer, glaring at me. I could still feel the sting of her hand on my face.

  “She can come with us,” Reverend McMann stated.

  Jennifer and I followed him down the hall and towards the room in which I had talked with Reverend Sikes before. It was also the room in which Oscar had killed his grandson, and then himself. I didn’t want to go in there, but it looked like I was going to have to.

  I remembered the bang from beneath the floor, and I wondered what was down there. Maybe we would find out.

  We reached the room and followed Reverend McMann inside. I saw that the brand new, blue carpet had been ro
lled up and pushed to the side of the room. On the floor where the rug had previously been was a kind of trapdoor. I guessed it led to a cellar or basement.

  A few chairs were set up near the trapdoor opposite Reverend Sikes who sat at a small table and Reverend McMann urged the two of us to sit down. As we did so we heard a muffled snarl.

  Chapter Seven

  It was obvious that the sound came from beneath the floor of this dusty room, which was now further tainted by the knowledge it had been the scene of a murder-suicide. As Reverend Sikes started to speak, I tried to ignore the sound.

  “You may have saved my church. I want to thank you for going out there and luring away the enemy,” he said.

  “I am glad to have helped,” I responded. “I hope my idea worked.”

  “Yes it did,” he said. “However, my Deacons couldn’t stop several of the patrols from going out and eliminating the remaining . . . deceased people. But it seems like your plan may have saved lives today.”

  “That's good,” I said.

  “It is good,” he said. “But it has been a bad day for my church.”

  He looked at me and stated, “In one day I have had a group of teenagers using drugs, a pair of youths sleeping together, a murder, and a suicide take place in my church. This is a church, not a hotbed of sin and death!”

  “I'm sorry,” I said to the Reverend.

  “It's not your fault; these events are my problem, and I take responsibility for them,” he said.

  “What did you want to talk about?” I asked. “Jennifer and I would like to get our van fixed as soon as possible and get back on the road.”

  The old, weary Reverend walked around and once again looked out a window.

  “I need a favor,” he stated.

  “What do you need?” I asked.

  “I have, or had, a wife, three daughters, and five grandchildren. Were you aware of that?” he asked.

  “No, I was not,” I said.

  “My wife and youngest daughter were living with me when the outbreak started,” he said. “Her two children were also living with us,” he said.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Well, I told the congregation that they died. It was a lie, but technically the truth,” he said.

  “What is the truth?” Jennifer asked.

  “The truth is that on the morning the outbreak started a sick woman, a member of my congregation came to my door,” he explained. “She was very ill and needed help, so we let her in. Over the next couple of hours she became even more ill. The woman developed a raging fever. We called a local doctor but didn’t receive a response. So we put her on the living room sofa and tried to let her rest while we made more calls.”

  “She turned, didn't she?” I asked.

  “Yes, she did. I was in my office when I heard my wife scream. The dead woman had attacked and killed my two year old granddaughter without us knowing. My wife came upon her consuming the child's flesh. By the time I entered the room both my wife and my two grandchildren had been bitten. My daughter tried to get the woman to release the body of the child and got bitten in the process. To make a long story short, they all eventually turned.”

  The pastor paused. I knew there was more to this story.

  “They’re now bound and secured in the cellar beneath this room,” he said, closing his eyes and putting both hands on his forehead.

  “Had they turned when you put them down there?” I asked.

  “No, they were just very ill, but I knew they would all turn eventually – if God didn’t intervene,” he said.

  “Who knows about this?” Jennifer asked.

  “Only Reverend McMann, Nurse Simpson, and now the two of you,” he responded.

  “You know they’re no longer human, right?” Jennifer asked.

  “Well, that is a good question. I don't know what to think about them, except that I still love them,” he said.

  “Once someone turns they’re nothing but a walking corpse,” I said. “They’re nothing but killing machines that want to eat our flesh. It is wrong and cruel to keep them alive like that.”

  “Well, I'm not sure of anything, anymore,” he said. “For all I know, their soul could still be in their body. Maybe it is what is enabling them to move and walk about.”

  “We think they may be demon possessed,” Reverend McMann added. “If we can exercise the demons in them it’s possible their violent nature could go away, and we could communicate with them.”

  “But they would still be dead,” I said. “Even if you could communicate with them, the person would be in a... zombie-fied body. It would be no way to live; I can't think of anything worse.”

  “You should put them out of their misery,” Jennifer said.

  “But what if they have a soul? Reverend Sikes asked. “I understand there is a need for self-defense, but I cannot bring myself to kill a person that isn’t putting my life in danger. In God's eyes, that might be murder.”

  “Listen to me,” I said. “I don't think a loving God would allow a person's soul to stay in one of these freaks. Once someone turns, I firmly believe that their spirit goes wherever it is supposed to go for all eternity. The idea that a human soul could be in one of these dead freaks is outrageous. I know you love your family members, but you need to honor their memory by putting an end to the abominations under this room.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Reverend McMann stated. “It would be a great thing if angels carried their souls to heaven before they turned, but we cannot end their existence. The risk is there that we might be murdering them.”

  “Well, you don't seem to be too concerned about the patrols outside killing freaks left and right,” I said. “Are you sure every last one of the killings were in self-defense?”

  Pastor Sikes began to pace the floor.

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am letting fondness for my family members get in the way of my better judgment. Perhaps I should hate the animated corpses below us as much as I despise the creatures that are trying to destroy my church. However, I'm not getting any answers from God Almighty. I have been praying almost nonstop for days and haven’t been given directions or guidance from the Lord. What happened to you was the first and only breakthrough I've had,” he said.

  “So you admit to having a double standard?” I asked. “You want the freaks outside dead, but you cannot do the right thing for your family members.”

  “I will admit to being a hypocrite. God forgive me, but even though I cannot bring myself to terminate what's left of my family, I would like to see all the other freaks dead.”

  “So what do you want from me?” I asked him.

  “I'm going to make you a deal,” he said. “I want you to pray over my wife, daughter, and two grandchildren.”

  “What kind of prayer do you want me to make?” I asked.

  “Prayer is powerful,” he said. “It says in the word of God that the prayer of faith can heal the sick. Also, a spirit filled person can cast out demons. I've seen it happen. I'm not sure how I want you to pray. I just want you to listen to the spirit and pray over my family members how you see fit.”

  “What do we get out of it?” Jennifer asked.

  “I’ll do everything in my power to assist in getting your vehicle fixed and back on the road,” he said. “Of course if you want to stay, you’re welcome to do so as well.”

  “What if I go down there, pray over them, and nothing happens,” I asked.

  I don't know,” Reverend Sikes answered.

  “Do you realize that I'm armed?” I asked. “Right now I have several weapons on me. If the prayer doesn't work, do you realize I could put them out of their misery and there would be little you could do to stop me?”

  “Yes, I realize that,” he said.

  “Will you at least try to pray for them?” he asked.

  “Of course he won't,” Jennifer shouted. “He isn’t going to go into your personal dungeon and pray over a bunch of freaks that should’ve been shot
days ago. If you think he’d do that, you’re crazy!”

  I looked at Jennifer and thought intently about the situation. I sincerely felt for the Reverend. If my mother had been infected, I don't know if I could have brought myself to kill her. Or, if Jennifer ever became infected, I'm not sure how I would respond. Almost certainly, the prayer would do nothing. I was sure of that. But what could it hurt? I still thought the pastor was wrong to keep them down there, but I did believe in God. If there was a tiny chance such a prayer could do some good, I should try.