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

by Zachary Stone

I proceeded to walk towards a far corner of the room and write down everything that happened. It took quite a while. About an hour into writing, I was brought some coffee. I guzzled it down, and continued to write.

  When I was done I turned around, and Jennifer let my little Chihuahua dog out of her arms. It ran towards me, jumped, and started to go wild as I petted it.

  “Where has the dog been?” I asked.

  A woman in a blue dress spoke up, “The dog has been in the nursery the whole time. He has been fed and cared for. The kids love him.”

  “Why don't you let the kids play with him a bit longer and let them say their goodbyes?” I asked.

  “I kind of hoped that you might consider letting us keep him, but I can understand why you like him so much,” she said.

  “He’s part of the family,” I said. “We adopted him in Sandy Hills, and we’re not going to abandon him or give him away to anyone.”

  “I would never ask you to do so,” the woman said.

  At that moment, Reverend Sikes appeared. Apparently, he’d just come inside from giving a quick burial to his family members. He asked me what had happened in the cellar. I briefly recounted the events that had transpired, and I handed him the tablet. He wanted me to talk with him in more detail about the events, but I declined.

  “Everything that happened is written here on this tablet,” I said.

  I then asked the pastor for something I had been hoping for for some time.

  “Reverend Sikes, can I address everyone in the room please?” I asked.

  “Certainly,” he answered.

  I stood up, and everyone in the social hall stopped talking and looked at me.

  “I don't know what you’ll think about what's on this tablet, but it's what I recall from the events in the basement. Please be aware that I am not a prophet, messenger of God, or even a church member. I'm a meat cutter from Sandy Hills. I scrape pork chops and grind beef for a living. Remember, I'm just an ordinary guy. I just happen to be pretty good at killing freaks, and I had one brief, extraordinary experience in the basement of this church. Do not turn this tablet into gospel, but try to use the information to help you survive. If you want to do anything for me, just pray that I find my mom and that Jennifer finds her sister.”

  I turned around, and I walked to the restroom. Jennifer followed me.

  “You can't be in the men's restroom,” I told her.

  “I don't care,” she said.

  Suddenly, she embraced me.

  “Let’s get out of this place,” she said.

  “I need to get washed up a little and check on a few things,” I said.

  “Would you ask if someone could go get some clean clothes from the van?” I asked. “But please don't go outside yourself.”

  I hated to ask anyone to go outside. I should have taken the risk myself. But I was exhausted, and I needed to have some time to myself. Before long, clothes arrived at the door of the men's bathroom. They included pants, sock, underwear, a new t-shirt, and even a button up shirt. It felt great to wash up and change into totally new clothes.

  After leaving the men's room I saw that the social hall had emptied just a bit, but a large number of cots were being set up. Jennifer was sitting at a table looking at a map with a number of other people, including Meredith. When Meredith saw me she smiled, then ran over to me and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you!” she shouted loudly.

  “Check this out,” she said while peeling off the bandage on her arm.

  Interestingly, the infection looked like it was receding, slightly.

  “Nurse Simpson thinks that it might not be whatever infection has taken over the freaks,” she said. “She now thinks that it might just be a staph infection that the antibiotic we found might cure. Staff is still a bad thing to have, but maybe I won't turn into one of them.”

  “Thank you for encouraging me to take those pills,” she said, hugging me again.

  “Oh, you’re welcome, but it wasn’t much,” I said.

  “Come over here, Hank,” Jennifer called.

  “I think we have found where the relocation center in Dublin might be located,” she said.

  For the next half hour we carefully examined a series of maps various congregation members provided. We not only looked at a general highway map of the area that showed a tiny dot for the facility, but also a recently printed local map that someone happened to have in their vehicle. The detailed map showed us what we hoped would be a good route to the relocation center. It was a fairly direct route, but it also avoided most of the populated areas.

  “This is great,” I stated. “It looks like we have almost a straight shot.”

  “The trip should take you and Jennifer about three hours,” Meredith stated. “That is of course if the road is clear and you can go anywhere close to the speed limit.”

  I sat at the table with amazement in my heart. It just seemed like we were finally make some progress towards finding my mom and Jennifer's sister. Hopefully, we would also reunite with Ms. Suzy and her family at the relocation center. With the van fixed, more weapons, and a spare tire I was certain we would be successful.

  “I would like to go with you,” said Meredith. “If you would let me.”

  “Do you want to stay with us after we find our relatives, or do you want come back here after we reach the relocation camp?” I asked. “We may not be coming back to the church, depending on what we find there.”

  “I don't know,” she said. “I have a couple friends, but no family here at the church. Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “It sounds alright with me,” I said.

  “Is it okay with you Jennifer?” I asked.

  “Sure, you can come along. We would appreciate it very much,” she said. “But just remember, you’re only allowed to hug him once a day. You just went over your limit earlier.”

  “Thanks,” laughed Meredith. “I’ll try to respect his personal space.”

  “I would like to go too,” I heard a voice say.

  I turned around and saw Robert Gardner.

  “I think you could use me,” he said. “I can fix anything.”

  “Why do you want to come along?” I asked. “Aren’t you a church member here?”

  “I am a church member, but I want to find out if there are more survivors elsewhere. They need to find out about what happened here today. I have no family here, and I’ve been out of any “real” work, other than what I’ve been doing out of my garage for the last three years since the recession hit. If there are cities that are still up and running, I might be able to find work.”

  “I'll follow your van in my truck,” he said. “I have a lot of tools already in it.”

  Jennifer seemed a bit overwhelmed by the goodwill we were experiencing.

  “Thank both of you so much,” she said.

  “So when should we leave?” I asked.

  “Why don't we rest tonight and leave first thing in the morning,” Jennifer said. “It's getting late.”

  “I'm tired and could use some sleep,” I said. “That sounds fine.”

  Chapter Ten

  That night I slept on a cot next to Jennifer for the second time. Our little dog, leashed to my cot, slept between us on a blanket. I slept hard; it was very much needed. Waking up in the social hall yet again, I smelled coffee.

  Sitting up I realized that Jennifer was still asleep. I walked over towards the kitchen and the Chihuahua let out a single bark at me.

  “Be quiet,” I whispered. “Don't wake everyone up.”

  The little dog lay back down and placed a paw over its face.

  Breakfast was still being prepared, but I talked the cooks into letting me prepare a plate for Jennifer and myself early. I carefully walked back and forth carrying the plates of food and our cups of coffee to a small table near our cots.

  “Wake up sleeping beauty,” I told Jennifer as her eyes slowly opened.

  “It's breakfast time,
” I said. “Will you have the first meal of the day with me, dear lady?”

  “Sure Hank,” she said. A moment later she pushed herself up to a sitting position on the cot.

  “Here is your breakfast and right here is some fresh, hot coffee,” I said.

  I didn't want to remind her that this might be the last fresh, hot breakfast we would have for a while.

  “If you want seconds just let me know,” I told her.

  “You’re so sweet, Hank,” she said, diving into the plate of food.

  I took my plate off the table, sat on my cot, and began to eat. It was fun being nice to her. I realized I was not in a relationship with her, at least not a “real” one, but having someone to be nice to and care about made me feel more human. It made the apocalypse, at least for a moment, feel a bit more bearable.

  I told myself to be careful not to let myself take this further. She never really had loved me and she didn’t now care for me in that way. She never would. If things changes and the situation improved she’d leave you for the first bad boy, macho acting guy that tried to pursue her. She’d always be my friend, but that’s all. Respect it and live with it.

  After finishing breakfast, I walked over with Jennifer to sit with several church members, and a number of friends and acquaintances we had made. We went over our plans with Meredith and Robert and rechecked the route we were going to take. Everything was a go. There had been only one freak enter the church yard all night, and it was easily dispatched.

  Talking to Roy and Kay I was informed that their daughter Lucy had two drawings for us. Lucy smiled as she handed us the first piece of artwork. It was a drawing of Jennifer with our dog, made with magic markers that read, “My Pretty Friend and her Sweet Dog.” Jennifer hugged her and told her that she hoped to see her again one day, but until then to be good and stay safe.

  Then, Lucy handed me the second drawing. Looking at it I almost fainted. I didn’t want to show it to Jennifer.

  “Let me see it,” Jennifer said.

  “No, please no,” I said.

  “Seriously, I want to see it,” Jennifer said loudly.

  “Alright,” I said to Jennifer, handing her the drawing.

  I then turned to the little girl, while turning red in the face with embarrassment.

  “Thank you Lucy for the drawing. You’re wonderful little girl and I appreciate the drawing very much. Please take care of yourself. Not matter what, always listen to your parents. They love you very much and are trying to protect you,” I told her.

  She smiled and then walked away to be with her mom.

  I then walked away, nervously. I knew that Jennifer had seen the drawing. It was stupid of me to be so shy, but due to my history with Jennifer I couldn’t help but be a bit unnerved.

  I was in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee when I heard Jennifer walk up.

  She held the drawing in her hands that depicted me with a zombie's head in one hand and a steak in the other. Without warning she read the title.

  “Hank, the zombie killing meat cutter,” she read out loud.

  Then she finished reading the text below.

  “Likes Jennifer,” she read.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” she stated.

  “You know there is,” I stated. “Let’s forget she wrote that.”

  “Okay,” Jennifer said. “But I'm not going anywhere. We’re stuck together.”

  “Yes we are, Jennifer Audrey Allen. But as friends. Only as friends. Forever, but only as friends, nothing more. Remember that,” I said.

  “However I can have you,” she said before walking away.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jennifer and I were in the van. Everything was packed and we were ready for the journey to the relocation center. Behind us, Meredith rode with Robert in his truck. For some reason, freak activity seemed light as we traveled the pre-planned route.

  For the most part, Jennifer and I didn’t talk too much. The events in cellar were so overwhelming we wanted to forget about them, for now. The issues between the two of us, in regards to any possible romantic relationship, would have to be put on hold. I had already made my feelings clear, and I knew where she stood on the issue.

  The sky was sunny and bright, despite the air being crisp. I had the map memorized in my head, but Jennifer kept the physical, printed version in her lap.

  “Please keep an eye out for freaks,” I said. “That is the best thing you can do right now.”

  “I can do both,” she said. “I'm keeping a lookout, don't worry.”

  On a few occasions we had to fire our weapons at small groups of slow moving, sluggish freaks. However, due to the intense sunlight, they seemed to be almost completely blinded. In such a state they were easy to dispatch. Now I knew the freaks didn’t have souls and were truly dead in every sense of the term, I felt no guilt whatsoever in killing them.

  “I wish we had Linwood's truck,” I told Jennifer. “We could just run the freaks over in that thing.”

  “This vehicle will do well enough,” she said.

  Around lunch time we found a seemingly safe spot near a long abandoned homestead and ate lunch together. The sandwiches the church ladies packed for us were tasty, and the plastic bottles of water were refreshing.

  Our guard was down somewhat, so we were taken by surprise when a freak appeared from around a corner. I took out the freak with one shot of my trusty revolver, and then we rushed into our vehicles. We didn’t want to wait until more of them appeared, so we cut our lunch short and continued driving.

  With a few hours remaining before nightfall we had reached the relocation center. The directions we had been given were very good. We could see the facility was well guarded, as there were military personnel patrolling the perimeter fence of what looked like a large school.

  Since a lot about the facility, and what to expect, we decided that one of us would go on foot to investigate. The rest of our group would stay behind until the person returned.

  I insisted that person be me.

  Jennifer didn’t like my decision very much, but there were tough calls I had to make. I honestly felt that I was the best person in our group for the task. Also, my trust in Robert and Meredith had become much stronger. I knew they wouldn’t hurt Jennifer, and if they needed to they would fight to defend her.

  Parking in the back of an old, abandoned city works I stepped out of the van. I saw a couple freaks in the area, but they too seemed slow moving and sluggish.

  I peered into Robert's window and asked him to take out the freaks, very quietly, with his sickle. In addition, I told him that if I was not back by nightfall to head back to the homestead where we had lunch earlier in the day. If I didn’t make it there by noon of the next day, he should head back to the church. But no matter what, he was not to put the group in danger.

  Walking back towards the van I motioned for Jennifer to roll down her window.

  “I'll be back soon. Don't worry about me,” I said. “Just stay alert and don't let any freaks get too close. Robert is going to use his sickle to take out those freaks in the distance, but don't get out of the van unless you absolutely must do so.”

  “I'm going to worry about you, because you’re my friend, Hank,” she said.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I'll be back.”

  I proceeded towards the relocation camp. The road to the camp was filled with pot holes and the sides of the road had bits of litter, cups and aluminum cans, strewn about. However, I continued walking down the road until I saw two soldiers in the distance.

  “Halt,” one shouted at me with a megaphone. “Stay where you are. We will come to you.”

  A minute later, a Humvee was approaching. Three soldiers with US Army insignias on their shirts approached me with a dog.

  “Just stay still,” they said. “Let the dog smell you.”

  The dog approached me and started to sniff my pants.

  I worried he might smell the Chihuahua on me and go nuts.

  I
nstead of going crazy, the dog sat before me and seemed to smile.

  “You’re not infected, at least according to Tybalt,” the soldier said. “Now what’s your business here?”

  “I'm trying to find my mother. I'm Hank Harper. Her name is Arlene Harper,” I said. “I was told she evacuated from the library in Sandy Hills. It was used as a relief station before it was evacuated.”

  “Let me look her up,” the soldier said.