Zomblog

by T. W. Brown

  Zomblog

  T.W. Brown

  Samuel Todd is a regular guy: ...Failed husband... ...Loving father... ...Dutiful worker... ...Aspiring rockstar. He had no idea if anyone would care, or take the time, to read his daily blog entries about his late night observations. But what started as an open monologue of his day-to-day life became a running journal of the firsthand account detailing the rising of the dead and the downfall and degradation of mankind...

  Zomblog

  Book 1 of the Zomblog Trilogy

  TW Brown

  Cover art by Whitney Phu

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  Dedication

  For Denise, my wife and my strength

  And Ms. Bose, the teacher who said, “Write!”

  * * * * *

  Author’s Note

  Let me introduce myself…

  No writer of zombie fiction can pen an acknowledge-ment of thanks to everybody who helps or gave support without mentioning The Godfather of the American Zombie…George A. Romero. “All hail the king!”

  I’ve always been curious about those seemingly self-serving author’s acknowledgment pages. Now I understand. No writer can do this alone, and to not say “Thank you” is kinda rude. And I already know that I’ll miss somebody, so to you…the person I miss…I thank you first!

  Now…I have to thank Michael DeNoma for “one more proof reading”. Hopefully we caught most of the glitches. Ian Lohrman, for listening to his deranged “roommate” ramble on endlessly about zombies as well as doing his best to stay awake as I read my drafts out loud. All my readers and critics at Fanfiction.com and Fictionpress.com who encouraged and supported me and let me know that it was time to get this done. To “Mindy” and “Piggy” for being excited about this experience. To my favorite zombie writers who don’t know I exist but inspire me with their stories: Tony Monchinski, Rhiannon Frater, David Wellington, Brian Keene, and Kim Paffenroth.

  There are two people who really made this happen and deserve special thanks. The first is my college writing instructor, Ms. Mardel James-Bose. It was in her creative writing class that she told me to “just go for it and write what you love!” I doubt this is what she had in mind. The second is my wife, Denise. I save the best for last. I will never be able to express adequate thanks for all you do. Your belief never faltered, even when all I had were doubts. The editing, finding maps, “mood music” (Goblin and Future Sounds of London) and just listening to my endless yammering. This book is as much yours as mine.

  Now…enough of the real world

  “Please to enjoy.”

  TW Brown

  November 2009

  Email: twbrown@maydecemberpublications.com

  * * * * *

  Prologue

  Saturday, December 29

  Greetings. My name is Samuel Todd. I live in a suburb of a fairly large northwestern city. I am the guy who delivers your papers early in the wee hours of the morning and I gotta say...you see some pretty hairy shit in the middle of the night when all the “normal” folks are in bed.

  I’ve been a fan of the internet since Q-Link, that may give away my age but that’s cool. So, I finally decided to start a blog. With some of the stuff I’ve seen, hell...I thought about writing a book, but I don’t have the—

  What is it that writers have?

  (Besides talent smarty pants)

  Determination?

  Drive?

  Stick-to-it-iveness.

  Yep. That’s it.

  Instead, I’ve decided to just ramble on and share my odd adventures and observations. A few things about me. I’m single. Well, actually, I’m divorced. Twice. I have a daughter from marriage number two. Elizabeth Marie. She goes by Beth, has since she was seven. She’s an insane fourteen this most recent December 15th. Every year for her birthday, I get the guys in our little band “The Stupid Muses” together. We put the phone on speaker and I sing that KISS song, Beth. It’s cheesy, but I still get away with it due to it being tradition. The first three years I did it in our garage. Mine and Erin’s (Erin is Elizabeth’s mom). My daughter would sit on the washing machine with her little hands clasped under her chin and just beam. Her curly dark brown hair framed her perfectly oval face and those hazel eyes actually sparkled.

  I’m drifting off the deep end, aren’t I? Sorry, but when it comes to daddy’s little girl, I get a bit misty.

  In a nutshell, that is my life.

  Besides delivering the newspaper, I play guitar and sing in a small-time band. Mostly we do parties, reunions and stuff. It doesn’t pay much, but I make enough to get by and still keep up on my child support. Erin never trips if I’m late. She knows I’m good for it. She and I still get along okay. When it comes to Elizabeth, our little Beth, differences are set aside. It’s not our daughter’s fault that her parents couldn’t spend longer than an hour together without verbally shredding each other.

  Anyways, it’s getting late so I gotta get to the Center and get my load of papers. I picked today to start this blog because the craziest shit is on New Year’s and full moons. Check with me tomorrow and hopefully I’ll have something juicy..

  Chapter 1

  Tuesday, January 1

  Holy crap! What a night I’ve had! This is why I decided to start blogging...

  I arrived at just after 2:30 a.m. to pick up the papers for my route. We had two no-shows so Gabriel (this old Mexican who has been delivering papers for like 20 years!) and I split the routes which was kind of a drag. But it happens every year. That is one thing you folks who walk out in your jammies and scoop up your paper each day don’t realize. Even more than the mailman, we HAVE to deliver despite rain, sleet, snow...or drunken no-shows. Some folks say that the internet is killing the daily paper. I think that’s a load of crap. Nothing replaces flippin’ to your favorite section over a steaming cup of coffee. Plus, I love me some Get Fuzzy.

  Anyways, I load up and check the extra route list so I can economize my trip as much as possible. The cost of gas is what will kill the morning paper way before the internet does. I roll out and pass the annual DUI parade complete with flashing lights and circus clowns trying in utter futility to pass field sobriety tests. I pull into this apartment complex. Real nice sorta upscale place. I get out to unload about ten papers at the office/rec center and hear this noise coming from one of the covered parking lots. Sure as hell, one of our local television news team has herself bent over the hood of this shiny silver Lexus. I recognize her right away only because it is the station I always watch as I’m eating dinner. Her milky white skin practically glows in the dark! And the words coming out of her mouth are a drunken slur of everything she can’t say in front of the camera at 5 and 6:30 p.m.! I am tuning in tonight for sure with a whole new perspective!

  Other than that…saw loads of drunks pissing in dark corners, a good share of teenage kids puking (happy freakin’ New Year!) and one nasty accident that signaled the end of the line for at least one idiot.

  So here’s a question—what possesses folks after all the stats, stories and movies-of-the-week to still get behind the wheel of a car and crank it up after getting looped? If drunk drivers were charged with murder, would it deter anybody? People argue that murder has to be done with forethought. Ain’t nobody goes out and ties one on by mistake.

  Well, I’ve got a day of Bowl games to watch. My baby-girl, Beth, she’s bringing her new boyfriend over to watch the games with dad. That’s the closest thing to a date she’s gonna get…at least until she turns sixteen. I plan on doing a lot of cheering…and glaring.

  Wednesday, January 2

  Simple question. What the hell is wrong with kids these days? When I went to a girlfriend’s parents’ house… I was a damned saint. “Yes sir.” “No ma’am.” “Lovely house, Mrs. Cast
eel.” “How ‘bout them Blazers?”

  This kid was using his tongue like a dipstick in my daughter’s throat. ON! MY! COUCH! I stood there like an idiot for like ten seconds! Now I’m the asshole. Can you believe it? Is our society that far gone? If it is, somebody please hit the RESET button.

  Thursday, January 3

  I’m gonna have to pick a different channel to watch my evening news. Every time I see that woman...I get all worked up! As for my daughter’s “boyfriend”, I got a call this morning from my ex, she said Beth was totally embarrassed. But the good news is...not by me! Sure, she yelled at me and threw a fit, but it was because she was mortified that her boyfriend did what he did. She said that when I went into the kitchen to grab the snacks, he took that moment to just go for it. Now my daughter wants to come over on the 7th and catch the LSU vs. Ohio St. game with me...alone! Erin and I have raised a good girl even with a buster marriage. I think a lot of folks put blame on divorced parents for much of today’s problem children. I can see where a two-parent household has its advantages. But marriage does not make good parents.

  Our band has a gig tomorrow night at a company holiday party. That will give me enough for my date with my girlfriend-du-jour, Megan. We are going to dinner and a movie. It’s my turn to pick the movie. I’m set on the new I AM LEGEND flick. I love those end-of-the-world-apocalypse type films. However, that means she picks the restaurant, blech! Another fancy-smancy place with some bite-sized tidbit in the middle of the plate. I’ll have to down a burger before I pick her up. For our next date, I pick the restaurant…and I gotta find a place that loads up on the food without costing a month’s rent. Also, by the next time I get to pick a movie, I’m thinking CLOVERFIELD. Anybody out there got any ideas?

  Friday, January 4

  Guess I’ll be going to see I AM LEGEND alone. When I went to the gig this evening everything was roses. Did I not mention that it is Megan’s company where she works as an insurance adjuster that my band was booked to play? So we started at five and there was quite a spread at this little soiree. I notice Megan tossing back a few, which is fine. I mean, I don’t drink, but to each his own. During the second break I look for her. Mostly for an ego boost. You know, ask how we sound…she tells me we’re great. But I don’t see her anyplace. Now this office complex is kinda big. Nine-story building, lots of space. I figure if she didn’t want to get caught riding cowgirl-style on some desk-jock, she could of at least gone up a few floors. I had a lot of ways that I could have responded. I like to think I was classy. I waited until she came back into the big banquet room…and then I had the band kick into Roxanne by the Police. There was enough eye contact for her to know the score. I didn’t see her the rest of the night.

  I think I’ll go see my old high school buddy tomorrow. Soon as I finish my route tonight I’ll drive out to godforsaken nowhere, (which is where the prison he’s doing time in is located) and say “hi”. Nothing makes your problems seem small like visiting a guy in prison.

  Saturday, January 5

  I don’t have a lot of time to write this because I need at least a nap before work. I did go see I AM LEGEND. It was okay. Don’t take that as me saying it wasn’t worth seeing. Just had potential to be better. Maybe an actor without such a STAR BILLING would’ve given me more. He was just too…Will Smithy. I saw the movie after I visited my friend. For obvious reasons, I imagine most folks will be turned off by the whole “friend-in-prison” thing. Yeah, well, you guys don’t know Paul.

  Paul is a regular guy. He got caught up in a pretty nasty deal. See…Paul is in prison on a sex crime. I bet that perked your ears (or, I guess, eyes). He says he didn’t do it. Him and every other guy in prison, right? I want to believe him. He’s my friend. Has been for years…but a charge like he got always makes you wonder just a bit.

  Here’s what I can tell you. He divorced this girl who had three kids from three different fathers. Everybody tried to warn him, but he was trying to be Kaptan Save-a-ho. Anyways, he finally wises up and leaves. Problem is, he had legally adopted all three kids. So, now he’s paying child support (something those kids’ real dads never did).

  A few years later he gets re-married. Eventually, they have their own kid. The new wife starts bugging Paul about this child support bill. Paul ain’t seen that ex or those kids in five years by now, and calls to see if she’ll agree to less money. He finds out that two of the kids have gone to live with their REAL dads! What’s more, this broad is on welfare and draining Paul for support with only one kid at her house and a live-in boyfriend that welfare is unaware of. He threatens to turn her in if she doesn’t agree to modify the child support. A month later he is arrested and charged with sexually abusing two of the three kids. His public defender told him to plead down to only two of the ten counts and avoid a trial. When Paul asked why he should do that if he was innocent, the lawyer told him all those kids had to do was point and cry and he would do fifty years on all counts versus only ten years for two!

  That’s his story. I believe him because I’ve known him since we were ten. But for the rest of his life…he’s screwed.

  We had a good visit. He only has about a year and a half left, so we talked about him staying with me when he first gets out. He said it was a bad idea because I couldn’t have my daughter visit me with him living there. I told him I’d help any way I can. When I left he looked me in the eye, shook my hand, and thanked me for taking the time to come and see him. He said his family totally cut him off so he hadn’t had a visit in about six months (the last time I came out). His wife divorced him and took out a restraining order so he couldn’t call his son. That was almost nine years ago. I called my daughter as soon as I got to my car.

  Like I said, if you think you’re having a bad day…visit somebody in prison.

  Sunday, January 6

  My mind is still sorta flashing back on my visit with Paul. Tomorrow, I’m gonna spend a day watching a Bowl game with my daughter. I wonder what Paul will be doing. We played football together and I know he loves the game. Crazy.

  Megan has left about twenty messages on my machine. I really don’t care. I mean, I did. That was until I drove by her place last night after I did my route. She musta forgot that I’m out and about in the middle of the night. That car in her driveway behind her ugly little Prius was parked next to her ugly Prius at work just about five hours later.

  No, I wasn’t stalking. Just looking. I barely even slowed down as I drove by. Besides, she’s the one leaving messages on MY answering machine.

  Monday, January 7

  Last night was one of those nights that you only hear about. It becomes like an Urban Legend. I was almost done with my route and, as I am prone to do, I pulled into a 7-11 for a refill on my coffee. Sitting at the light waiting to turn left and then hook into the store’s parking lot, I can see inside the store very clearly. Two guys with hooded sweatshirts are at the counter…with guns!

  I flip my cell open and punch my emergency button. The 9-1-1 operator answers and I give all the information, including the make and model of the car idling in front of the building. I sat there on the line as the two guys run out, jump in their car and peel out in reverse. About the time they almost pull out onto the street, a pair of squad cars squeal in and block the parking lot exit.

  I watched the whole arrest. Then I ended up spending half an hour giving a statement. Mr. Singh, the guy who works the counter on the graveyard shift, told me my coffee is free forever! He even gave me this laminated card that I can use in any 7-11 for a free cup!

  Tonight, my daughter is coming over for the big game! All in all, I’d say this is a pretty good day. Only five messages from Megan on my machine when I woke up. Maybe she’s getting the hint.

  Tuesday, January 8

  Crazy world! I got a call from the regional manager for 7-11. They want to give me a reward. The company has some sort of policy. What kind of world is this that there is a ‘Company Policy’ for rewarding “people who assist in the apprehension of
the person or persons” who rob their stores?

  I had a blast watching the game with Beth. We each started with a stack of quarters and bet on everything from who would convert a 3rd and long situation to who would score last. She’s gonna make some guy a great wife one day.

  It’s strange how worked up fathers get over their daughter dating, yet gush over what a great wife or mother they will grow up to be.

  Wednesday, January 9

  There is a bit of a co-worker type relation with my fellow Muses. To be honest, music might take a lot of work but it ain’t “work”. I love it. I enjoy playing. Sometimes we get in a groove on a song and will jam for twenty to thirty minutes straight. Music is something you feel. A job is something you do. I respect all you folks who park yourself in that cubicle and grease the American Wheel. I just choose not to join you in your slow, death-by-boredom lifestyles. Sure, I may not be loaded, but I pay my bills, tend to my support obligations, and that is something a lot of those nine-to-fivers can’t say. I mean I just never got caught up in the “gotta have the newest, biggest, brightest toy” sickness that is so prevalent in our society.

  On more entertaining fronts, I’m going to watch my daughter’s basketball game tonight. Erin was sweet enough to warn me that her boyfriend, Brandon, would also be in attendance. I think she’s gonna marry the guy. He seems nice I guess. It is funny to watch him get a little irked when Erin hugs me in her normal greeting. If the guy paid attention, he would notice that Erin hugs everybody “hello” and “goodbye”. I do think that guy makes her happy, and Beth says he is a good listener and helps with homework…all that stuff.