Chronicles of the Undead | Book 1 | Urban Gridlock

by Hernandez, Jaime

  She decided to try the back door of the house rather than risk the sound of crunching glass if she went through the broken picture window. Damn it if the door wasn’t locked. She looked around for a hide-a-key and noticed an out of place rock about a foot away from the door. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the key inside. As quietly as she could, she slid the key into the lock and slowly opened the door.

  Emily looked to see if there was a key rack hanging near the door even though she knew it wouldn’t be that easy. A quick glance at the kitchen counters revealed nothing but canisters, knickknacks, a breadbox and small appliances as well as a generous amount of smeared blood. She heard faint noises coming from at least one of the bedrooms and from the front of the house. Knowing she had no choice if she wanted to find the keys, she quietly made her way through the kitchen into the small dining room. To her right sat a small hallway with a bathroom visible from where she stood and two bedrooms sitting to either side.

  She decided to approach the living room first, thinking it was the most likely place to find the car keys. She cringed at the noises coming from the darkness. A persistent, repetitive thump came from somewhere near the couch. She looked around the corner and saw the old man lying on his side on the floor wedged between the couch and coffee table. Blood covered what she could see of his arms and chest. One arm kept reaching upward then falling back down to hit the coffee table. The hand of that arm was missing most of its fingers.

  Another noise drew her eyes to the broken picture window. A zombie stood at the open space reaching out with both of his arms as if trying to figure out how to navigate his way out the window. As quiet as Emily tried to be, the slight creaking of the wooden floorboards under the soles of her shoes drew its attention. It turned and opened its mouth letting out a raspy moan. Knowing that the old man was stuck and couldn’t get to her, she focused all of her attention on the dead man slowly shuffling toward her from the window.

  She pulled her weapons from her sweatshirt pocket, holding the knife in one hand and the pair of scissors in the other. She was nearly overcome with fear but forced herself to focus on the dead man. As he took a step closer, she charged at him. Her knife bounced off the side of his head, slicing a small chunk of flesh just above his ear. She tried again and the knife wedged itself in the top of his head without doing any real damage. His teeth snapped as his jaw continued to open and close. She moved the long pointy pair of scissors from her left hand to her right and plunged them at his face. A little bit of blackish blood appeared where they had stabbed into his cheek. As he reached for her, she thrust the scissors again, plunging them into his eye and using her full weight to push them in as far as she could. His eyeball popped with milky, putrid fluid spilling down his face and he dropped to the floor.

  Emily took a few breaths to calm herself and to listen for any new sounds. The dead man’s body hadn’t fallen silently on the hardwood floor. A glance out the broken window didn’t reveal any zombies headed her way, so she concentrated on the noise inside the house. The old man on the floor continued to thump the remains of his bloodied hand on the coffee table, so she rushed over to him and quickly thrust the scissors through his ear and deep into his brain. His hand fell with one last thump. She was about to bend down to check his pockets for car keys when she noticed a little table next to the front door. There was a square wicker basket that held mail hanging just above and on the table itself was a decorative bowl. She instinctively knew that the keys would be in that bowl.

  Shuffling footsteps from the bedroom slowly made their way to the dining room. The old woman who had lived in the house was walking toward her in an achingly slow fashion. Her feet never left the floor; they simply shuffled forward one at a time. Emily could grab the keys and go but was worried that if she didn’t kill the old woman she might follow her and gather the attention of others as she did so. Emily sighed and quietly walked over to the dead woman, grabbed her by her tufts of white hair, and thrust her scissors through the woman’s ear.

  Emily hurried to the bowl and grabbed the car keys within. Looking outside, the street was about the same as it had been when she first came in. She walked to the back of the house, slipped out the back door and crept down the driveway stopping to crouch by the car. She retraced her steps all the way back to her own back door, went inside, and let out a huge sigh of relief.

  She wiped the pair of scissors clean and placed them in her duffel bag on the bed. She lay down fully dressed and ready to go at a moment’s notice. She was a light sleeper and knew she needed to get some rest, so she dozed fitfully for the remainder of the night.

  The next morning, she looked out various windows to check the dead activity outside. There were a few shamblers in the middle of her street and in a couple of the front yards. The main road to her right was nearly the opposite of what it had been last night. Three cars had rear ended each other just before the turnoff to her street but the section she could see of the road itself was nearly clear of zombies. She wondered where they had all gone and figured that some noise or movement had driven their attention elsewhere.

  The smell of smoke hung in the air as some unknown place or places burned. In the dark, the dead may have been drawn to the flames. Whatever had happened, she didn’t care because she finally had her opportunity to escape. She downed a quick smoothie and ate a granola bar. She cleaned and re-bandaged her feet then dressed in clean clothes. She grabbed her small duffel bag with one hand and held the hard won set of car keys in the other.

  Two minutes later she was in her neighbor’s car turning onto the main road. She’d decided that she would make the five minute drive to her brother’s house to see if he was there before hitting the road and heading west toward farm country. She drove past the church and saw that it was surrounded by a large crowd of zombies that stood at least ten deep. There were hundreds if not a thousand of the dead pressed against the brick building.

  She wove through scattered zombies along the road, several times bypassing larger groups by taking shortcuts and sometimes longer routes down various side streets. She was surprised by the number of abandoned vehicles stopped seemingly at random in every area she passed.

  It only took about an hour to make what would normally be a five minute drive to her brother’s house. The huge crowds of zombies that surrounded buildings throughout her little suburb left fewer of the dead on the streets or else it might have taken a day to get there. Emily slowed as she approached his house looking for any sign of the dead or any damage to the windows or front door. Seeing nothing, she pulled up to the curb. As she started walking up the driveway, the front door suddenly opened, and her brother hurried out with a small bag slung over his shoulder. He motioned her back to the car and didn’t speak until they were both inside with the doors shut.

  “For fuck’s sake, Emily,” Matt started. “Whose car and how the hell did you get here?” Then he laughed with relief and reached over to hug her. Emily immediately noticed the small square of gauze taped to his forearm. “Were you bitten?” she asked, terrified of hearing his answer.

  “No, one of the dead caught me off guard this morning when he pushed through the back window of the sunroom. He was nearly inside the house when I took him out. He grabbed my arm and tried to bite me but just barely grazed the skin. It didn’t even bleed, but I cleaned it and covered it just to be safe.”

  Chapter 27

  Day 2

  “A half hour later, he turned, and he tried to bite me. That’s when I ran into you,” Emily said with tears in her eyes.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” Michelle said and gave her a hug. The woman’s story was traumatic, and she felt compassion for her. They had all already been through so much and it had only been two days.

  Anna was caught up with thinking about how horribly vulnerable Emily must have felt running through the streets nearly nude. “You are welcome to stay with us,” she said kindly, knowing that Emily had no other plans and presumably no other family nearby.


  Emily nodded her thanks as she wiped her tears. “I’m sorry. I know everyone has suffered since this thing started.”

  The three women bonded over what Emily had been through and continued talking for a while, occasionally watching the news on TV. They could hear Camille and Lucia as they talked and giggled from the direction of the kitchen. They weren’t the greatest cooks, but they did well with the basics. They couldn’t really mess up baked chicken and hamburgers. More importantly, it kept them busy and spared them from watching the graphic scenes of death and chaos on the news.

  Lucia had already seen enough during their trip to Anna and Max’s house. It was good for her to be with her best friend, laughing and having fun together. Camille still held more of her innocence as she hadn’t been exposed to the dead the way Lucia had. But Michelle and Anna both knew that the time for innocence was short and they would both be forced to grow up over the coming days and weeks.

  Outside, Damon and Joey were cutting small holes in the boards that covered the windows. “Let’s do three by three inch openings in the upper right and lower left of each window. That should give us enough visibility from inside and it will be easy to match the measurements on the inner boards,” Damon suggested.

  “Sounds good. Let’s get this done so we can eat. I’m starving,” Joey replied.

  “Hope you really are hungry. Just remember, we’ve got to eat our sisters’ cooking,” Damon laughed.

  “We’d better be starving.” Joey laughed with him and wondered what horrible concoction the girls would come up with.

  They started at the front of the house and made quick work of the windows there. They left the enclosed patio alone, as it wouldn’t benefit them in any way to cut holes there. As Damon looked at the front of the house, he had another idea. There was a simple screen door that opened outwardly leading to the inside the enclosed porch. Directly behind the screen door, set back about six feet was the front door of the house. They had already put a few iron bars across the front door that allowed them to climb in and out but would make it more difficult for zombies who moved awkwardly and clumsily. He decided to add three iron bars on the inside of the doorway of the screen door.

  “Hey, I’m going to add some iron bars here,” he pointed out to Joey. “Gives us one more little layer of protection.”

  “Good idea. Let’s go grab them now then we’ll finish the rest of the house,” Joey responded. They walked around the side of the garage to the detached garage Damon’s dad used as a workshop. Joey grabbed the heavy bars while Damon looked for the tools he needed.

  As they walked back around to the front, Damon decided to tell Joey about Mr. and Mrs. Wright and their granddaughter. He watched Joey’s expression closely as he spoke of how he killed them and why he did it. How he knew he didn’t have to do it, but felt it needed to be done to keep his family safe.

  “It all just keeps replaying in my mind,” Damon said as he was having trouble processing everything. He looked down for a moment for fear of seeing judgment on his best friend’s face. When he looked back up and met Joey’s eyes, he knew that he understood.

  “I would have done the same thing, Damon,” Joey said. “Whatever it takes to keep our families safe.” He recognized the look of relief on Damon’s face and how vulnerable he’d felt telling Joey about everything.

  “Look man, the world’s changed. It’s the fucking apocalypse. We do what we have to do and later we can always talk it though if we need to. But I think pretty soon we’re just going to get used to it,” Joey added.

  “That’s kind of what I was thinking, but I also felt like a monster for doing it,” Damon admitted.

  “You’re not a monster, bro. You manned up and took care of things. I killed some of them on our way here. Up close and personal, but mostly with one of my dad’s guns,” Joey said. “A fucking dead guy broke through our windshield and I beat him and pushed him off with the butt of a shotgun until my mom pulled her handgun and blew his head off.” Joey wasn’t showing off. He was just letting Damon know what it was like out there.

  “Wow. You know, I’m a little afraid of your mom. She’s pretty badass,” Damon said. “I never want to get on the wrong side of her temper.”

  “My mom? Shit, your mom’s the crazy one,” Joey said and they both laughed. “Now quit being a pussy and let’s get this shit done. I’m hungry.”

  An hour later, they were done with the bars by the screen door and the outside of all of the windows, but still needed to cut the holes on the plywood covering the insides. They were hot, sweaty and starving and ready for a break. They walked into the house, pleasantly surprised by how good the food smelled, considering that their sisters had cooked it.

  “Yuck,” Lucia coughed as they walked into the kitchen. “Shower much?”

  “Yuck,” Joey retorted. “Cook much?” Lucia wore a fake pout then they both laughed. Camille and Damon just smiled. They were used to Joey and Lucia trying to one up each other with insults pretty much all the time.

  The kitchen counter was full of food. A couple dozen cheeseburgers, a whole bunch of baked chicken, steamed corn, and even homemade fries. “Wow,” Damon said. “When did you two learn to cook?” He ducked as Camille swiped her hand at his head.

  All four teenagers piled their plates high. “Mom,” Lucia yelled. “Food’s ready!”

  Michelle, Anna and Emily walked into the kitchen and looked suitably impressed at what the girls had accomplished.

  “Alright, listen up,” Michelle said in an I’m not fucking around tone of voice. “No more yelling. No shouting. No rough housing. No horseplay. Keep your voices down. Keep your laughs quiet…”

  “No running with scissors,” Lucia couldn’t help herself, but she did say it quietly to the soft laughter of everyone else. Michelle couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I’m serious. We have safety here. But it has vulnerabilities and it’s not permanent. The dead are drawn by sight and sound. What if one of them was up against the side of the fence next door and heard you guys making fools of yourselves in here? We could end up with a crowd of them beating on the fence. Next thing you know, the fence is down and they’re beating on the windows. Take this shit seriously,” Michelle admonished, her temper rising.

  “Careful mom, you’re getting loud,” Joey said in an exaggerated whisper. Her glare silenced him.

  She was met by a chorus of I’m sorry from the four teenagers. She hadn’t meant to get so worked up. The stress of the day and of not hearing an update from Jesse or Max was getting to her. Anna placed a calming hand on her shoulder and Michelle let out a long sigh. “Okay, let’s eat,” she said to everyone.

  “See, I told you your mom was scary,” Damon whispered to Joey. They both stifled a laugh, wolfed down their food and went back for seconds.

  After dinner, Michelle and Emily in turn took showers while Lucia cleaned up the kitchen. Joey and Damon set off to finish the cut-outs on the inner boards of the windows. Anna had decided that it was time to do a perimeter check, and she wanted Camille to go with her this time.

  Camille hadn’t seen any of the dead in person yet. She’d watched plenty of the horrors on the news, but Anna felt she needed to start preparing her for the real thing while in a relatively safe environment.

  “When we go out there, you keep quiet. Whispers only. If the dead see you or hear you, then our house will be in jeopardy,” Anna said. “Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” Camille said, her face betraying her fear. Her expression broke Anna’s heart, but she knew that Camille had to do some growing up fast.

  “I’m giving you a knife, because you need to get used to carrying one and get used to the feeling of it in your hand,” Anna said. “We will never, ever fire a gun out here unless it’s life or death, if the dead are trying to overtake the house.” Camille nodded.

  They removed the lift bar from the front door and opened the door slowly. Once the boys were done cutting holes at the windows, they’d be able to c
heck the area from inside before opening the door. Anna expected the enclosed porch and the yard to be clear, or she wouldn’t have opened it at all.

  They carefully stepped between the horizontal iron bars and pulled the door closed behind them. Anna was impressed when she saw the bars across the opening of the screen door. Damon certainly was resourceful. She propped the door open then they climbed through those bars as well. She made sure the door closed quietly behind them.

  “We’re going to cut right over to the fence. We walk the fence all the way to the front, check the front gate, and continue on to the other side until we’ve covered the entire perimeter front to back.” Anna said.

  She deliberately set out on the garage side of the house first. She wanted Camille to see Mrs. Wright dead on the ground next door. It would be a shock, but she wanted Camille’s first shock to be of one of the dead who was truly dead rather than one still walking around.

  “Every now and then, we pop up to look over the fence. Go ahead and climb up that branch,” Anna instructed. She scrutinized her daughter’s face as Camille hopped up and got her first look at Mrs. Wright. Camille gasped quietly but made no other sound. Her eyes grew large and her mouth formed an O, but she handled herself well. Anna hadn’t given her any warning about the dead neighbor being on the ground.

  Camille tore her eyes from the dead woman and looked at the front the house, her eyes drawn to the broken picture window and open front door. Seeing nothing moving, she looked to her left to see deeper into the wooded front yard. She could hear distant noises but saw nothing. She climbed back down from the tree and went to her mom’s side.

  “I saw Mrs. Wright,” she whispered. “I didn’t see anything else in the yard. I could hear some noises but they’re kind of far away.” Anna nodded and they continued toward the front of their property. As they reached the brick wall, Anna popped up quickly to see if there were any zombies visible on the street. She wanted to look for herself before she had Camille do it, because for all she knew, there could be one on the other side of the wall. That kind of shock might make Camille scream before she could help herself.