Jack Zombie (Book 5): Dead End

by Flint Maxwell

  He rests his head on my thighs and starts wagging his tail whenever I look at him. Darlene is on my left, leaning her head on my shoulder. Norm lay on the ground with his pants rolled up in a makeshift pillow, looking at the stars. Abby is sitting across from us, her arms wrapped around her knees.

  “I wish I had a smoke,” Norm says.

  “You don’t smoke,” I say.

  “I don’t care,” Norm says.

  “Then why the heck do you want a cigarette?” Abby asks.

  Norm doesn’t turn his head toward us as he answers. I see the corners of his mouth curl up into a sly smile. “Because,” he says, “this is the first perfect night we’ve had in a long time. And I think the only thing that could make it better is a smoke. You know, like how they do it in the movies after a nice meal or good sex,” Norm says.

  Darlene snorts.

  Abby shakes her head.

  “What?” Norm says accusingly. He turns toward us.

  “Nothing,” Darlene says.

  “No, what?” Norm says.

  “Perfect for you,” she says. “That’s all.”

  “What are you talking about?” Norm says. “We traveled far today. Barely any zombies. No crazy bastards. No — ” I give him a look that tells him to shut up. “Oh, right,” he says, his eyes going distant. “I’m sorry, Darlene.”

  “It’s okay,” she says. “It could’ve been worse.” I hear the hitch in her voice. It’s small but there.

  “Yeah,” Norm says, “it could’ve.”

  “And there’s a chance my mom and sister are out there,” she says. “That’s all I need.”

  I nod and kiss her on the top of her head.

  “Well — ” Norm starts to say.

  Darlene cuts him off. “Don’t get my hopes up. Yeah, yeah,” she says.

  Norm smiles. “Not what I was going to say at all,” he says. “I was going to say, ‘Well, we got a big day ahead of us with saving your mom and sister and all so we better get to sleep.’”

  I chuckle, but the look on Norm’s face doesn’t indicate he was joking at all.

  “Thanks, Norm,” Darlene says.

  “Yeah, he’s really turning into a big softie,” Abby says. She looks at Darlene cautiously. “And I’m sorry about your dad, Darlene.”

  Darlene smiles, but there’s nothing in it that says happiness, not like a smile is supposed to.

  “I’ll take first watch,” I say once an awkward silence settles over the group. My voice is barely louder than the crackling of the low fire.

  “You and Fido are more than welcome to,” Norm says as he rolls over on his side.

  “Cupcake,” I say, correcting him. Cupcake’s tail wags at the sound of his newly given name.

  “Whatever,” Norm says, “Tomato, tah-mah-toe. A dog is a dog, and pets are just future heartbreaks…especially when you can’t take the poor bastard on walks without worrying about zombies.”

  I don’t respond, just pat Cupcake’s head as he looks up at me with those almost-human eyes. Norm is just jealous. Or he has too much of our mother’s way of thinking ingrained into his brain.

  Abby gives him one of her famous eye rolls then says, “Good night. Wake me up in a couple hours and I’ll take over.”

  I nod.

  She sprawls out and yawns.

  Darlene leans in and kisses me first then she kisses Cupcake, much to his amusement. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, but I’m so tired.”

  “Just try,” I say. “Sleep as long as you can.”

  She smiles, again with no happiness. “Thank you, Jack. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  I kiss her again. She lays down and about two minutes later she’s snoring. Not long after that, they all are.

  I cradle Cupcake closer to me and whisper, “Well, boy, I guess it’s just you and me.”

  He wags his tail slowly and closes his eyes.

  Norm and Darlene were both right in their own way: It’s not a perfect night, but it’s pretty damn close.

  23

  I let them all sleep for much longer than normal. They need it. I, on the other hand, probably do, too, but it’s fine.

  The night sounds are both loud and quiet at the same time. Crickets chirping and bugs buzzing. The steady blow of a soft breeze, with the breeze, the smell of freshness, of a world resetting itself. It may be a long time before we’re free of zombies, but it’s happening. That’s why people like my family and I have survived, I think. We’re here to make sure the world still has a chance. We’re here so the humans can have a chance.

  I stroke Darlene’s hair. The sky gets the bruised look of early morning. Somewhere the sun is meeting the horizon. My eyelids are heavy.

  Cupcake’s fur is dry now. He smells…somewhat better. The wet dog scent lingering in the air beats a dirty wet dog scent. He doesn’t flinch as I move to stand up. He’s snoring softly, his paws twitching with some doggy dream. I like to imagine it’s a pleasant one where he’s chasing rabbits or cats and not running from zombies.

  Abby opens one eye as I approach her. Her reflexes are good. She seemed sound asleep as I was getting up. Now, it’s as if she’s been awake this whole time.

  “You’re too nice, Jack,” Abby says, whispering.

  “Huh?”

  “Letting us sleep this long. You need to sleep, too. You haven’t slept since when?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer, shrugging. “I doze off here and there. On the car ride up here, I think.”

  She shakes her head. “You look terrible. A little better since you found the dog, but terrible.”

  “Thanks,” I say, offering her a fake smile.

  She pulls her gun free from beneath the jacket she had balled up as a pillow, stands, and stretches. Her back pops. “Not as bad as a cramped backseat,” she says. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll keep watch. Fair warning on the hard ground though, sure as hell ain’t a bed.”

  “I’m sure it’s gonna be heaven,” I say, smiling genuinely now. The exhaustion hits me all in one tsunami wave. I lean back and yawn.

  Abby looks up to the sky. “I say you got about three hours before Norm wakes up.”

  “I’ll take three minutes,” I say.

  I lay down. Darlene and the dog’s warmth beats any blanket, and I’m asleep as soon as my head hits my arm pillow.

  24

  Norm shakes me awake. There’s a great weight on my chest, and I’m not talking metaphorically. It’s Cupcake. My face is soaked with dog slobber.

  “Aw, Darlene’s gonna be jealous,” Norm says.

  I blink at him, my vision blurry. The sun is blazing. Not only am I wet from the slobber, but I’m also wet from my own sweat. It’s looking like it’s going to be a hot one today. I guess that’s what spring in California is. Hell, that might be how California is year-round. My body is stiff and aching. I grimace as I sit up. Cupcake rolls off of me and simultaneously awakens with a jolt. His nails dig into my stomach, which has toned up a bit since the apocalypse happened, but is not hard enough to withstand the jagged claws of this dog. Then Cupcake shakes his head, floppy ears clapping with the movement. In the sunlight, I get a better look at the dog. He’s really a pretty thing, sores, mangy fur and all. His ears are long and droopy as if he’s mixed with Beagle. That brings a funny image of his parents to my head and how the whole mating thing worked with two breeds that vary pretty well in size. Not exactly the thought I figured would cross my mind first thing in the morning, but hey, the world is weird now, I guess.

  Darlene is already up, standing in the lake wearing her bra, scooping handfuls of water onto her face. I can see her ribs poking through her skin. I’ve never noticed that before. The apocalypse has hit us all in our own way. It hurts to see the physical transformations.

  “Wake up, princess!” Norm shouts.

  I turn my head, cracking my neck. “Geez, man, not so loud,” I say.

  “Big day ahead of us,” Norm says, scanning the horizon. From where we
’re at, we can see the hazy skyscrapers of the San Franciscan skyline. “The blonde one is counting on you, buddy. Won’t get nowhere if you sleep all day.”

  I offer him my best fake smile and stand up. Cupcake makes his way to the smoking remains of the fire and lifts his leg. He pees for what seems like two hours. Another thing I didn’t think I’d see first thing in the morning.

  Norm laughs. “Too bad you didn’t save it for the zombies, pup.”

  Cupcake looks at him with an ear perked up.

  “Yeah, that’s right, pooch, I’m talking to you. Zombies. We piss on those bastards, don’t we?” Norm says.

  Cupcake barks approval, or so at least that’s what it sounds like.

  I smile. This day is already off to a weird start.

  Abby comes out of nowhere. She has her hair tied back in a ponytail. Her face looks fresh and clean. Her stump’s bandage is not. Last time she wrapped it had to have been a few days ago. I hope it’s healing right. We don’t have Doc Klein around to fix it like he did last time. I had to kill that son of a bitch.

  Cupcake bounds offs to greet Abby, who stops in her tracks, eyes getting wide. The black fuzzball barks once and jumps at her, knocking her down. Abby makes an oof sound, and Cupcake climbs her chest, licking her face.

  “Down, boy!” I say.

  Abby giggles, moves her head back and forth. I see Norm smiling out of the corner of my eye.

  “Guess he likes you,” I say.

  “No,” Abby says, managing to push him off of her and to sit up. “He likes breakfast.”

  Cupcake barks his approval. Abby pulls a few apples from her bag.

  “Found them up there,” she says, pointing behind our little campsite at a large tree.

  “Gimme!” Norm shouts. Abby tosses him one. He chomps into it faster than Cupcake chomps into his.

  “Thanks, Ab,” I say as she tosses me a couple. “I’ll go take one over to Darlene.”

  Abby arches an eyebrow, looks past me at the water where Darlene still stands. “Good luck,” she says. “Tried talking to her earlier while you were sleeping and she was about as conversational as Cupcake here.”

  Cupcake barks, wags his tail.

  “Really?” I say.

  “That dog is pretty damn talkative if you ask me,” Norm says behind a mouthful of apple. “Doesn’t know when to shut up.”

  “You know what I meant,” Abby answers.

  “Come on, boy,” I say, and Cupcake obeys me as if I’ve owned him for years. Time to cheer Darlene up.

  25

  Cupcake sees Darlene’s feet splashing in the water and he takes off after her. I think he’s about to dive in and I’m really hoping he doesn’t. Right at the last minute, he pulls up short. Darlene starts as he tears up grass next to her.

  “Hey, boy,” she says. Cupcake wags his tail.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She turns around, that smile that’s not really a smile on her face.

  “How are you?”

  “Good,” she says.

  “Really, Darlene? I’ve known you for almost six years. You can’t fool me.”

  “How do you expect me to be?”

  I don’t say or do anything. She’s got me. She’s right. I don’t know how I expect her to be. I know how I want her to be. Strong, sure of herself, ready to fight, and on and on. But I know we also don’t get what we want.

  “Are you ready to move out?” I ask instead.

  Flies buzz around the reeds near the bank. Cupcake takes to following the insects with first his eyes and then his whole head. When one gets close enough, he snaps and makes a motion like he’s chewing. Dogs, man, I think, shaking my head.

  “Are you ready?” she asks me.

  “Honest?” I say, smiling a little. “No, I’m not. I’m never ready.”

  “But you always seem so,” she says. She looks confused, then she turns her head and looks out at the calm water and the landscape beyond.

  “Well, I’m not,” I say. “I’m scared shitless all the time. I just act like I’m not.” There’s some truth to the statement. I’m scared, but I’m not as scared as I used to be. Not as scared as the first time I saw the zombified cop at the Woodhaven Rec Center tear apart Toby the manager as if he was made of newspaper.

  “Me, too,” Darlene says.

  Cupcake has curled up to her. She puts an arm around him and his tail thumps the ground. He looks up to her with those human-esque eyes and a love only certain people can understand.

  “I’m not as scared when I’m with you guys,” I say, looking over to the campsite where Norm and Abby busy themselves with packing their belongings. “Being on your own is the worst.”

  “Being without you is the worst,” Darlene says.

  I lean in and kiss her. Cupcake barks.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about that again,” I say.

  I’ve lost her twice before. She’s lost me once. Never again. She’s not leaving my sight, and I’m not leaving hers.

  26

  The road ahead is lonely, but I’m not alone. Darlene is on my right and Cupcake is on my left. We walk behind Norm and Abby, who are telling jokes back and forth. Pretty tasteless jokes — I keep catching the tail end.

  “…that’s not my dog, that’s my wife!” Norm says, and Abby nearly doubles over with laughter. I can only shake my head.

  We walk for nearly an hour before we see any sign of life — or death.

  What we see stops us in the middle of the road we are traveling up. I wouldn’t call it a highway — it’s too narrow for it to be that — but it’s certainly not a residential street despite the neighborhoods and houses branching off its sides.

  Cupcake growls, low and throaty. It’s almost vicious. The laughter coming from Abby and Norm is cut off abruptly. I feel my pulse quicken and my blood pressure spike. Darlene’s hand in mine squeezes tighter.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  It’s a car. A shit-brown Mercury. I can see the flakes of rust under the bottom from where I stand. The only thing different from all the other cars we’ve normally seen in this dead world is the fact that this car is running and it’s blasting the radio. But the car isn’t moving.

  Norm looks back at me, his hand instantly going to the holster on his hip. Mine does the same. I free my pistol, liking how the weight of the weapon feels in my hand. Abby is next, but Darlene doesn’t draw hers. She’s leaning forward, trying to pick up what’s coming from the stereo. I can’t make it out. Not from here. The wind is blowing, but not in our direction. It’s taking the sound elsewhere. I’ll tell you it’s not music. It’s talking. Like a radio talk show. This is weird. Too weird. I get the sudden urge to turn around and make a run for it. That whisper of doubt speaks in my head, telling me to get out before it’s too late, before I lose one of them again.

  I drown it out. I drown it out with a different voice, one much braver and adept at handling odd occurrences in the apocalypse.

  “Off the road,” I say.

  Norm jumps at the sound of my voice, but he gets the idea. I drag Darlene over to the sidewalk, where we hunker down next to a dented post office box. Cupcake follows at our heels, his eyes weary, ears perked at the Mercury. He’s a smart dog. I’ve already fallen in love with him.

  Abby and Norm go to the other side of the street and hunch down by a stone bench. Norm and I exchange a glance. We both know what we have to do, and it’s not make a run for it.

  It’s wait. Listen. Watch.

  Someone is driving around this ghost town, but for what reason, I have no idea.

  Do I even want to find out?

  27

  About fifteen minutes go by before Norm starts getting antsy. It’s funny, really. The dog can stay still and a thirty-something Norman Jupiter can’t. He stands up and I don’t feel any fear because nothing’s happened. The radio continues to blare, not playing music but voices. No zombies are attracted to the sound, no humans come to claim the car as their own. Abby tries to grab
at Norm, but her one hand has her gun in it and she misses the tail of his shirt.

  I lean down to Darlene and whisper, “C’mon.”

  She gives me an uneasy look. She’s scared, I can see. So am I. Cupcake stands up with us and we go back out into the middle of the road.

  Norm looks back at me and shakes his head. I can only shrug. I’m not sure what to do now. We can continue waiting, or we can move on and make something happen. I don’t like the idea of burning any more daylight than we have to. So we walk on.

  “What is it, you think?” Norm asks me.

  “Probably some unlucky bastard got caught in a passing horde, left his car right there in the middle of the intersection,” I say and grab my gun a little tighter. Or probably it’s a trap and someone has their gunsights on us unlucky bastards.

  “Yeah, I bet we turn the corner and see a bunch of zombies munching on his bones like a dog,” Abby says.

  Cupcake perks up at that.

  Abby sees it and says, “Not a good dog like you, Cups.”

  He wags his tail and looks up to her, understanding.

  As we get closer, moving wearily, our eyes scanning the dead streets all around us, I start to make out the words.

  “It’s almost high-noon! Greetings, all you listeners. Forecast’s looking pretty clear. No chance of rain. Traffic is light. Things are bright!” a man says.

  “You bet!” a woman answers. “Just another day in paradise!”

  We all look at each other, our eyes wide.

  “What the fuck?” Norm says.

  “Reminder,” the radio man says, “curfew is in effect at 7:00 p.m. A horde was spotted near the park!”

  “Oh, no!” the woman answers.

  “You bet, Frannie! You bet! And, folks, be sure to watch out for those red robes. Possible sightings near Broadview and Haxan.”

  “Don’t forget to come on down to the White Cloud for a special performance Thursday night. You can find Frannie and I at the WSLD Booth, and if you can’t make it, we’re broadcasting the show for all you out there, so just give us a listen”