Apoc Series (Vol. 1): Whispers of the Apoc [Tales From The Zombie Apocalypse]

by Wilsey, Martin (Editor)

  I gritted my teeth. “I don’t know about you, but being with someone 24-7 is a little stifling. I’m sure I’ll manage to shop on my own.”

  “Emma—”

  “Jed!” I snapped. He winced at the echo. “I’m not a kid anymore. I haven’t been a kid since the day I killed my parents, when I stove their skulls in and left my swimming trophy matted with brain matter and hair. I can look after myself.”

  “Please, I—”

  “Just give me some space.” I spun on my heel and rushed by the tills. My footsteps were loud on the waxed floor. I carried on running, up the aisle that would have been full of pet supplies. Even that had been picked clean; survivors would do what they had to when in desperation.

  I rounded the corner as I reached the top of the aisle and stopped to take a breath. He hadn’t followed. Everything was quiet and suddenly, I became very aware of how it would be to live alone in the world now.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, my chest sinking and my shoulders dropping. Tears pricked my eyes. I hadn’t argued with Jed since meeting him, which was quite something, considering how stubborn I could be. He was different. Mostly. And even now I knew that he was just trying to look out for me and what had I gone and done? Thrown it in his face.

  I wiped my eyes, feeling ashamed. What if he left me? He might take my outburst as complete hatred and leave me here. Or at least take off for a few days. If he did, could I really do it? Could I survive on my own? Although I’d survived five months without him, I got along mostly by sheer luck. I hadn’t come across big groups of survivors or if I had, I had managed to hide long enough to wait them out. I had only come across walkers in small groups and managed to fight them off. But now? Yes, I could probably do what I had to do, but I was only one person. Pushing Jed away, getting angry at him for everything that was happening, was going to do nothing to help either of us.

  I took a deep breath and I was about to spin back around and head down the aisle to apologize and work the supermarket alongside him, when I heard a voice.

  “I saw them come in here.” It was male, low, whispering. “They looked pretty well kept.”

  “You think they have a place nearby?” A second voice, gruff.

  “Probably. And a base means a stash.”

  “Let’s find them.”

  I froze on the spot as my heart hammered against my ribs. We’d been followed. And it didn’t matter that we had nothing of value in our caravan half a mile away. Whoever these men were, they wanted something and just listening to them brought me to the understanding that they would do whatever it took to get whatever they thought they deserved.

  Jed. I have to find him.

  We were safer together. Without him, I was vulnerable and without me, he was unaware. Stealing a look back down the pet aisle, I saw the coast was clear and began to tiptoe back down the hard floor, skirting around a bag of cat litter that had been strewn across the floor. I made it to the end, pressing myself against the metal shelving, and peering around the corner. I couldn’t see them but I could hear them as they muttered. Readying myself, I was about to head into the main aisle to go back to the tills when I saw Jed. His head popped up over the register and then he motioned for me to stay put. Nodding, I shrank back. His eyes were wide as he surveyed the scene. Clearly, he was as anxious as I was.

  I waited there for what could have been hours, time dragging as the breath caught in my throat and I switched between looking at Jed and searching the aisle I was in. I was stuck between utter terror that they’d sneak up on me or that Jed would get caught. As of yet it seemed there were only two of them and that meant we were equal.

  Jed’s eyes flicked back to me. Then in a burst of movement, he waved his arm, beckoning me over. I didn’t need telling twice. I took off, rushing across the huge expanse on my tiptoes as quickly as I could without making a sound. It felt like I was slogging through a vat of marshmallow and that at any moment I’d be cornered and captured. Instead, I made it to the till, ducked down and was immediately folded in his arms.

  “Are you okay?” he mouthed.

  I nodded, letting out the breath I’d been holding. I was okay now. I realized my stupidity in being so hasty, in being so angry with the world. I could have been caught and then what? Jed would have rushed over to save me and he might have been hurt. I shook my head. I couldn’t have that. “I’m sorry.”

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  I was happy to oblige. The supermarket was just across the road from us and we could come back another time when we knew the coast was clear. Until then, we’d have to spend the day without.

  Taking my hand, Jed took another peek around the shop, a meerkat searching for prey, and then he stood to a crouch and together we began to make our way back towards the door. Our hands lost contact but we stayed close, Jed constantly checking the aisles just to make sure we weren’t about to be spotted but it looked like we were in luck; the two men must have gone the other way.

  As we reached the end of the checkouts, we hurried back through the silent alarms and rounded the corner to head towards the door.

  Jed pulled up short and I ran straight into him, cursing as I straightened beside him. His arm was out, his palm flat to hold me back. I sensed a change in his body and wondered just how many walkers we’d stumbled into. When I finally came fully to my feet I saw that it wasn’t walkers. It was men. Survivors. Four of them. They all stood with weapons in their hands; I saw a machete and several knives. I swallowed hard. My heart was already drumming but my palms were beginning to sweat as my fingers twitched next to my belt.

  The man in front shook his head, pointing the machete at me. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

  I dropped my arm. Jed never removed his gaze from the men.

  “What do you want?” he asked, challenging with a soft voice. It was a delicate situation. I glanced through the dirty windows, past the parking lot to our caravan and I knew that we’d have to leave. It was no longer a safe spot for us. The home we’d made disintegrated before my eyes and I felt a twinge of sadness before shoving it away. There was no room for grief at the end of the world.

  “Me and my boys here,” he paused and motioned to the men behind him. They all stood with stony faces. I saw a scar on one man’s cheek. Another was missing a finger. “We saw you coming across here.”

  “Where are you from?” Jed asked. His arm was still tensed, forming a protective barrier between me and the men.

  “Where are we from?” He grinned. “Well, here. This is our base.” His arms spread wide and I knew he meant the supermarket. It had been claimed as their spot, which meant we were trespassing.

  “We didn’t realize. We’ll leave.” Jed straightened, his shoulders losing some of their height.

  “Oh, no. Not yet. Won’t you join us for tea?”

  “We should be getting—”

  “I said, you’re coming with us.” His whole demeanor changed, smile fading as he motioned the men forward. “Jack, Russ, get the man. Harold, take the girl.” They rushed past him, two of them taking Jed by the arms, another grabbing me.

  “Hey!” I tried to wrench my arm free but Harold had a firm grip. I kicked out but all it got me was a smack across the mouth.

  “Leave her alone!” Jed shouted. My cheek stung but I was angry. Angry that he dared restrain me, that he raised his hand to me. I bit my lip and straightened. I would do as I was told. For now.

  “Max,” Harold shouted, his grip tightening on my arm.

  Stepping forward, Max, the leader of their group, held his machete under Jed’s throat. Immediately he stopped struggling. “There’s no reason to be like that. If the girl didn’t lash out, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Max moved closer to me as his arm dropped, his eyes devouring me from head to toe. I shuddered under his gaze.

  “You don’t have to hurt us,” Jed pleaded. I realized his fear was for me. “We just want to leave.”

  “It’s not going to ha
ppen, fella. Let’s go.”

  At his words, Jed and I were forcibly turned to face the supermarket again. My eyes moved over the aisles and I saw the two men whose voices I’d heard as I hid in the pet food aisle only moments ago coming to join their men. I stumbled and almost tripped over my own feet but I was kept up by the man still gripping my arm.

  “Where are you taking us?” Jed asked behind me. His voice was tinged with anger. I’d seen Jed angry and it was a pretty neat spectacle to behold. I just had to hope that these guys angered him enough to unleash the beast.

  “Home,” Max answered.

  We were led up the empty fridge aisles. Their power had long since gone off and the smell which would have lingered was faded. I saw a set of double doors. I was marched right into one, my hip and my face connecting. Protesting, I used my free hand to check I hadn’t broken my nose, while beside me my captor laughed. Anger bristled inside me.

  “Take it easy,” Jed called as he was brought in behind me.

  We were inside the stock room. Huge shelving units towered over me, now almost empty. I was led around to the left and then the right and that’s when I realized that not all of the shelves were empty. A canopy had been erected on the outskirts to provide a meagre cover and it seemed that some of the units had been moved. Now in the center of it all, I saw their camp. A gas stove took up the center, bottle still connected, and the shelves that surrounded it all were lined with tins of food, bottles of water and a few other amenities. They’d done well to find this place.

  Sleeping bags lined the floor, six in total. I was thrown into the center of it all, Jed flung so roughly he stumbled and hit the deck. It was followed by laughter.

  “You okay?” I helped him up. A gash had opened on his forehead and blood oozed through the wound.

  “Don’t worry about me.” He came to stand at his feet, turning to look at our captors. “Are you?”

  I nodded, but it was a lie. I wasn’t all right. Neither of us were. This was all my fault. If I hadn’t insisted on searching the supermarket, if I hadn’t marched over here, forcing Jed to follow, we’d be in the caravan, hungry but safe.

  “So I want the real story.” Max stepped forward. “Why are you here?”

  “We told you,” Jed started. “We’re looking for food.”

  “The shelves have been picked clean. And what’s left is ours.”

  “Fine.” He held his hands up. “So you can let us go and we won’t bother you.”

  “See, here’s where the problem lies.” Max cocked his head to the side. “There are only two of you now, but how do I know that you don’t have a whole tribe to go back to? I need to keep my men safe.”

  “There’s just us.”

  “I need proof.”

  Jed sighed. “We’ve been living in the caravan. Just across the way. You can see it from here.”

  “You have?” He turned to look at his men. “Have we not searched the tin can?” He was met with a few shaking heads and mumbles of unwilling answers. “Okay. It seems my men have lacked a certain thoroughness I want to see in the ranks. For now, we’re going to check out your story. Jack, Russ. You two go and search the caravan and hurry back.”

  The two men who had thrown Jed to the floor turned to leave.

  “Now we wait.” Max smiled.

  “Can I at least sit down?” I sighed. I’d hit my hip harder than I thought when we crashed through the door earlier and I knew I’d have a wicked bruise already forming.

  “You can share my bed.” Harold stepped forward, licking his lips. I backed up a step, almost tripping over a sleeping bag.

  “Stay away from her.” Jed’s fists were balled in an instant as he stepped between me and the leering man.

  Max’s grin widened. “I take it she’s your daughter.”

  “As good as.”

  My heart would have swelled if we weren’t in the situation we were in.

  “My men haven’t had a woman in a long time.”

  The muscles in Jed’s back tensed. “And they won’t have one now.” His voice was low, gravelly. I knew we were almost there, at the point of rage.

  “I’ll have you know they take what they want. As do I.” Max took a step forward. “Now stand aside.”

  Jed stood his ground, planting his feet. I swallowed.

  We’d had worse odds than this. The only thing was that last time it was walkers. Live people were harder to deal with.

  Max rolled his neck on his shoulders. “I’ll give you one more chance to—”

  Jed lunged, peeling the hunting knife from his belt and plunging it straight into Max’s chest. Max’s eyes widened as blood spurted from the wound. A gurgle escaped his lips and he staggered backwards. Jed stayed on him and twisted the knife. Then his body slid down from the knife, dropping in a heap on the ground.

  I already had my knife in hand and I took the advantage, spinning to the left and slicing Harold’s throat. His hands went to his neck, trying to stanch the flow of blood, but it spurted high and fast, coming to land on my boots in a red spray. As I turned to look at the last two, the ones who had first followed us into the supermarket, I saw Jed had already downed them both. Now his knife protruded from the eye socket of one. When he turned to look at me I saw blood spray covering his face.

  “We have to get the other two.”

  I nodded. Four down, two to go.

  Together, we crept from the holding room and out into the supermarket. I knew that they would have walked freely, without any fear, and we could use that to our advantage now. Creeping down the aisle directly towards the door, Jed paused at the end, indicating that I should follow his lead. The two men were just disappearing around the corner. We’d taken those four down in a matter of seconds.

  “I’ll take the one on the left,” Jed whispered.

  Following his lead, we too rounded the corner and with knives ready, we snuck up behind the two. I slid my blade into Jack as Jed garroted Russ. Sounds of strangled words and shock broke the quiet and both men slumped to the floor.

  Jed straightened and sheathed his knife. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  It had been a long time since I had killed. Jed had been the leader, the killer. Whenever we dealt with walkers he was the one to use his knife unless I absolutely had to.

  I’d never killed a person before. I’d never wanted to. Until now.

  I nodded. “I think so.” Those men were going to hurt me. They were going to hurt both of us. And that was enough. It was kill or be killed in this world. And I chose to kill.

  Jed slung his arm around me and pulled me close. The blood from the men we’d brutally murdered coated my skin and soaked into my hair, but as I slung my arms around his waist and squeezed, I shut it all out. None of it mattered. I was with Jed, and that’s all that mattered.

  “We had to do it. It was them or us.”

  Jed smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  5 Otis Island by Kelly Carr

  “Alexa, stop,” Georgia said.

  Annoyed at her daughter’s habit of putting strands of her long, dark hair in her mouth, she added a “mom stare” to punctuate her point. Alexa pouted, but did as she was told. Georgia chuckled a little at how differently she had used that phrase just a few months ago, in her kitchen, directed at a small electronic device that played music, a device that her daughter wished they could rename! My, how life has changed, she mused, less than happily. She hadn’t seen her home, much less her kitchen in three months—three long months. She had been “trapped,” or rather “safe” on Cape Cod since the day the bridges fell.

  ***

  It was the weekend after Labor Day. The two of them had driven to the Cape to spend time with her mother on her seventieth birthday. Alexa didn’t really want to come along—what seventeen-year-old would give up a beautiful fall Saturday—but she did love her grandmother. On the drive down, they heard news radio stories about a rapidly-spreading virus reaching the DC area. The word pandemic was being used. Georgia hadn’t tho
ught much of it when she first heard the stories just two days ago, but now it was beginning to worry her. Like every other virus that made the news, it struck the elderly and children most easily. But what virus didn’t? She was sure that there’d be a vaccine by Thanksgiving. Yet, in a small way, it sharpened her need to spend time with her mom. Moms was a former staff sergeant, and very capable in spite of her seventy years. But she was a heart patient, and since Dad’s death last year, lived alone.

  They’d had a nice brunch at the Daniel Webster Inn. Moms loved their Belgian waffles. As they were leaving there was some commotion in the parking lot, but Georgia hustled them into the car before Alexa wandered over out of curiosity, or Moms went over to take charge. As much as she would normally want to help, today she just avoided it and headed back to the house. No need for that kind of excitement. She and Alexa helped Moms take in the awnings, and readjust the woodpile in anticipation of the midweek delivery of wood that was coming.

  They said their goodbyes briefly as always. They lived so close, it didn’t make sense to linger. It was nearly dark as they turned onto Route 6 heading off Cape. Just as they started down the final hill, they heard a strange screeching sound in the air like a fast-moving plane that was about to crash. In anticipation, Georgia slowed down from her normal 70 mph. A few seconds later, as they rounded the corner where the Sagamore bridge and the Christmas Tree Shops windmill came into sight, they saw it—a fast-moving trail of smoke in the sky, coming from behind and the left of them. It hit the bridge and exploded right in front of them.

  Georgia hit the brakes and steered hard right, nearly off-roading the Jeep. She made it off the last exit, barely, and headed onto 6A to get back to Moms’ house. A moment later, she heard a second blast, a bit further off. She knew instantly that the Bourne Bridge had fallen. She headed back toward Moms’ house at breakneck speed, thinking that the local PD would be too occupied with the explosions to worry about her speeding.

  Oh crap! We’re trapped. Who did this? Was it the Russians? Koreans? It wasn’t nuclear, or we’d have been vaporized. Could it have been someone on the base? Why? She recalled stories of how her great uncles had accidentally fired ordnance (which was, fortunately, unarmed) that landed on the road just shy of the Sagamore bridge back in the sicties. The memory provided her with no comfort for she knew that was not what had happened.