POW! (Book 1): The Zombie Days

by Wonder, Peter

  "There were more of them, but I just saw each and every one of them out there while you were busy playing dog catcher," Vincent answered.

  "Well, shit. I must be either really good luck, or really bad luck. Every place I've been to on this trip I’ve left with no survivors behind. The only ones who’ve lived are the ones who would stand beside me. Back at the camp, they’re all dead, except for Mac who came with us. In the town where we found Bully, they’re all dead, too. Even here, everyone is dead except for the two of you . . ."

  "Let's just hope we still have a home to return to, alright, Pete?" asked Kyle.

  "No kidding. I can't help but feeling like one of the riders of the apocalypse right now."

  "That's a pretty badass thought, homie. Can that be our team name? 'Riders of the Apocalypse' is pretty fucking fitting, if you ask me. You even killed a horse!"

  "Kyle, I didn't kill the damn horse. The explosion did."

  "An explosion caused by . . . ? That's right, it was you, bro."

  "Are you trying to make me feel bad right now, man? 'Caus-"

  "Come and get it, boys! Dinner is on!" Evelyn saved us from the horror of having any kind of conversation and feeling any of our girly emotions. I followed the pack to the kitchen table, but stopped to give Evelyn a kiss before entering.

  "Everything smells so good. Thank you so much! The guys have been talking nonstop about how excited they are for a nice sit down meal," I lied.

  "Really? I'm excited for all of you! There wasn't a lot to work with, but I think you’ll all be quite satisfied by the end of it all!" she said.

  "Well then, I guess we should wait no more."

  "After you, my hero."

  Epilogue

  Six Months later…

  So, nowadays Kyle, Mac, and I all own a bar and grill back up the hill. Remember that cabin in the woods I found that was stocked full of liquor and ammo? Well, when we got back home we converted it into our own little place of business. We ended up calling it The Riders of the Apocalypse Bar & Grill. Yeah, it was kind of Kyle’s idea to call it that, but it’s really kind of catchy. Also, I may have been convinced that it was, in fact, an apocalypse that we’d endured. But, if they could call zombies deadites, then I could say that it wasn’t an apocalypse. And opening a bar was totally my idea. People come and visit us from all over the place to meet with us and hear us tell our story. We’re real heroes now, I guess, but we still make up a whole bunch of shit to make the tale sound even more badass. The actual story gets a little bit old after you've told it for three straight months, so it’s kind of fun to spice it up a bit after a while.

  But, of course, we weren't the only ones who were doing the talking. We'd get visited by all manners of people; scientists among them. According to some of these scientists who actually knew of the doctor and his previous work, it turns out that he likely had such a powerful mind that he was able to connect his brain with every zombie on the planet, as far as anyone could tell. There hasn't been a single deadite sighting that I've heard about since it all went down. And, yeah, the name deadite kind of started to spread around the land as we incorporated it into our story. I guess a lot of people didn't like calling them zombies. They thought it implied that they were evil or a product of voodoo or something. I don't know why they surfaced in the first place but, then again, I never really asked about it. I guess that it really could have been the work of the Devil or some voodoo that kicked all that shit off. In the end, I didn't really care too much as to why it happened; it wouldn't change anything that happened. As far as I was concerned it was useless information.

  ***

  Little did I know, today would be a special day. It was a beautiful, warm spring day and I was sweeping up outside of the bar when I saw my old friend walking up the path to the restaurant.

  I dropped the broom on the ground and walked out toward him to greet him properly.

  "Vincent? Nah, it can't be. I heard that dude was fucking RICH! There's no way he'd come all the way out here to a shit hole like this."

  Vincent dropped his cigar on the ground, grabbed my hand, and, pulled me in for a bro hug.

  "Petey! How the fuck have you been, man? How's business? Looks like a madhouse in there."

  "Oh, bro. It's non stop wall-to-wall packed in there. Everyone wants to hear about the guys who killed all the zombies in the world. I came out here and grabbed a broom just to escape for a little while. What about you, dude? What have you been doing?"

  "Since they got the power up and running in some of the major cities, I've sold the device to the government. They're going to try to make some kind of crazy mind control weapon for the military. Good old one track minded Uncle Sam. I think your 'God-King' would have fit in pretty well at the Pentagon. It's unreal that that place is still in one piece. I'm not sure how far your visitors have traveled, but I can tell you that I haven’t seen a single deadite since that day. We really did it, man. I still can't wrap my head around that fact."

  "Well, it happened, Vin. Maybe it'll help you out to head inside and give the fine patrons in the Apocalypse your side of the story. Plus, I'm sure you won't have to buy yourself a single drink. You start jabbering and they’ll just start throwing booze at you. Come on, bro, follow me."

  I turned and headed back up the steps to the bar. Before I could grab the door, someone else inside swung it open for me.

  "Welcome back, hero," said some creepy dude as I entered the building.

  Everyone was looking at me, so I made use of the attention.

  "Ladies and ghouls, I present to you: Mr. Vincent, the guard from the research facility!"

  Applause and cheers erupted from the inside bar.

  "I thought you said it was a chemical plant?!" shouted out a faceless voice in the crowd.

  "Hang on, guys. Before I start running my mouth about how we saved the world, I want to say hi to my old pal Kyle! But that doesn't mean you can't buy me a drink in the meantime!" Vincent addressed the happy faces. There was further applause and whistling.

  "Kyle should be back in the back office, I think. Let's go give him a surprise."

  We walked through the gauntlet of people slapping our backs and saying thank you. One guy even reached out and handed Vincent a beer. We walked around the bar and back to the office.

  I swung the door and what I saw was like salt in my eyes.

  "Oh, shit, Pete. Tell me that he was performing the Heimlich Maneuver on her while naked for some reason." Vincent retched as I slammed the door. He chugged his beer and dropped the empty bottle on the floor.

  "God, how I wish that was the case. After we got back up here and you took off, Kyle took it upon himself to be there to console Carolina. One thing led to another, and eventually it became the abomination you just witnessed. And let me be the first to inform you that it doesn't get any easier to see it. It's just revolting every single time."

  "Yeah, I kind of got that impression." He let out a belch.

  Kyle swung the door open wearing only a pair of pants, and it seemed that Carolina had disappeared in the background; presumably to get dressed.

  "Vincent?! You've come to slum it with us regular old poor folk? What's the special occasion?"

  "Uh, nothing man. How's things been goin' with you?" he asked with the look of disgust he hadn't been able to shake from his face.

  "Oh, man. Things just could not be better. I don't think I've ever been happier in my whole life! I'm a hero, there are no more deadites, and I'm with the woman I love. Plus, I get a surprise visit from one of my fellow Riders. Life is amazing."

  "Whatever makes you happy, brother. I just wanted to pop in and say what's up. I'll be sure to knock next time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I’m going to go mingle with the party people while trying to drink that horrible image out of my mind. I'll catch you guys later."

  "You know what? I think I'm going to go ahead and take the rest of the day off, too. Suddenly I'm not feeling so well. You got this, Kyle?"

 
"For sure, man. I think my break is just about over, anyhow. If I need any help, I can always pull Mac off the grill. Take it easy fellas. And feel better, Pete."

  I followed Vincent out to the bar, where he got set up at the stool in the center of the bar as drinks lined up in front of him. I looked up at the picture of the camp covered in blood that I’d had an artist draw for me when they made a trip to the bar. It was their small token of gratitude to the men who saved the human race. I proceeded to the door and headed outside as Vincent cleared his throat and began to tell his tale.

  I decided that I hadn't checked on Bully and Marcus in some time, so I headed off in their direction. They were living with Andrew since they all moved up here and had to figure out living arrangements. It turned out that Andrew had indeed lost a little brother in all the horribleness that had taken place what seemed like so long ago, so he was more than happy to have someone to watch after again. And the kid had gotten along with the dog so well I just couldn't keep them separated, so I had to let him go stay at Andrew's place, too.

  When I got over to the house, I was greeted by Marcus jumping up on me and licking my face. He was outside, running around the yard playing with Bully. The kid still didn't talk, but it didn’t matter. That kid was awesome. He could say more with his facial expression than you could with any simple sentence. The expression he had now was one of joy.

  It had been a couple of weeks since I’d been able to come around. After all, the bar was always busy, and I couldn't let Kyle run the whole show all the time. It was kind of necessary for me to be there. That's what I let myself believe, anyway. I suppose the others could do a fine job without me.

  "Hey, LB, how have you been? Have you been keeping this mangy mutt good company?"

  He ran up and threw his arms around me. I gave him a couple slaps on the back before I pried his little arms off of me.

  "That's enough of that, kid. What have you been up to? Did you teach Marcus any awesome new tricks yet?"

  The boy's face lit up as he nodded. He took a couple of steps back and snapped his fingers to gain the attention of Marcus the dog. The two locked eyes. Bully stuck his arm straight out and then bent it upwards 90 degrees in a crisp motion. The dog sat down.

  "Oh, wow. You taught him to sit? That's awesome, bud."

  The kid held up a finger and wagged it back and forth to tell me that there was more to come. He snapped at the dog again and his ears perked up as he licked his chops. Bully pointed at the ground and Marcus lay down. Bully made circles with his fingers and the dog rolled over in response. He clapped his hands together one time and the dog got to his feet. When he gave the dog two thumbs up, he stood up on his hind legs.

  "Hot damn. That's really something, little dude. Are you sure you don't talk to the dog?" I asked with a smile.

  Bully rolled his eyes. A while back, we found out that the kid had never talked. He was born a mute. We don't know why, because he couldn't exactly tell us. But, as long as I'd known the kid, he had never let a simple thing like speech get in his way. He excelled at everything he tried. He even took up guitar after I gave him a couple of lessons.

  "Hey, man, is Andrew inside?"

  He nodded, and I headed to the door. I gave a knock and the door swung open.

  "Oh, hey there, Pete. To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked around a mouth full of some sort of food.

  "Just thought I'd come by to let you know that your old buddy Vincent is at the bar visiting. Thought you might want to go say what's up or something."

  "Yeah, man. Thanks, I think I will," he said with a slight nod. "How long has he been here?"

  "He just arrived not too long ago. I'm sure the kind folks at the Apocalypse will keep him busy for a few hours, so there's no need to rush over there."

  "Right on, thanks again, Pete. I'll probably head over in a little while. This pie is amazing."

  "You got that from Carolina, right?" Andrew nodded. "Well, she's down at the bar, too. So you'll be able to thank her in person. Well . . . as long as she's available, that is."

  "She and Kyle are still going at it, I'm guessing?"

  "Big time," I said. I could taste the vomit rising in my throat.

  "I heard about you and Evelyn. I'm sorry for how things went down, man. That really sucks."

  "Yeah, well . . . What are you gonna do, ya know? I wasn't going to leave everything I had going on here, and she couldn't stick around and be reminded of her loss, day after day. I really don't blame her for leaving this place. If I were in her shoes I probably would have done the exact same thing. You know what they say: If you love her let her go. Maybe something will work out someday in the future. Who knows?"

  "Well, you are a better man than I, sir."

  "Yeah, tell me something that everyone doesn't already know," I said with a fake laughed. "Alright, bud. I think I'm going to take off. I'm not feeling so well today. I think I'm going to go home and relax for a bit. Maybe take a nap or something."

  "Are you sure? You know you can stick around here for as long as you want, right? I don't get much company and those two are always happy to see you."

  "I know, dude. That lack of company is exactly why you should go down to the bar. Maybe you could meet some chicks or something. It's really easy to do. Especially if you mention that you're friends with me."

  "There's that modesty that you're known so well for."

  "Hey, if it gets you laid then you shouldn't complain. Go have a good time, man. Marcus will be able to keep an eye on the kid."

  "I guess it couldn't hurt to get out. Alright, I’m sold. I'll catch you later, man. Thanks for the heads up."

  "No problem, bud. Having most of the crew together down at the bar is good for business, anyway. And I swear, if I hear that you don't hook up with some girl, I'm going to come bitch slap your wimpy ass in the morning."

  "I'll see what I can do," he chuckled.

  Together, we headed out the door. Bully and Marcus ran over and gave me hugs and licks goodbye.

  "I'll stop by again soon, alright? But when I come back you better teach that dog to read or something, okay? If anyone could do it, it would have to be you, little man."

  I put my hand on his head and tossed his hair around. Then I reached down and scratched Marcus behind his ear. We got to the end of the driveway where Andrew and I split ways.

  "And I'm serious about that bitch slap, too! Don't think I won't find out. Remember, it's my bar. I have eyes everywhere, so have a good time," I shouted back over my shoulder.

  "Yeah, yeah, man. Take it easy. And feel better."

  "Thanks, man. Later."

  I continued down the road to my house. I noticed that my boot was untied, so I stopped and bent over to tie it. As I was doing so, I was reminded of that first meeting with Evelyn when I was attacked by the horde of a single deadite.

  I laughed to myself and then got a little bit sad. I really did miss her. I felt like a complete idiot forever letting her go in the first place. No one here really needed me anymore as I thought they had. In fact, the only person who probably would have benefited from my presence would have been her. I wouldn't say that I regretted my decision. I only hoped that she was doing better than I was in this moment of self-pity.

  ***

  I arrived at my place and plopped down on my bed. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I acting like such a bitch? I need to get out of here. It was time for me to move on from this place. The town didn't need me. The bar didn't need me. The kid didn't really need anyone, especially as long as he had that dog around to keep him busy.

  And just like that, I had made up my mind. I was done living up on this hill. If Vincent could travel, then so could I. Maybe I'd go find Evelyn. Maybe I’d go find someone else. Anything had to be better than this. I guess this kind of recognition simply isn't for everyone. I've never been a big fan of people. And just because they're a fan of mine doesn't make me like them anymore.

  It was time to go somewhere that people wouldn't
know my face. My name might have travelled pretty far, but it would be easy to pick out a new one. Good thing there were no television stations up and running or you could bet pretty safely that reporters would be knocking down my door in an effort to get a story on me.

  I'd had to deal with a few reporters, sure, but nothing really printed. I think it was just a few historians trying to get the official word for the sake of longevity. In any case, it was time for me to be on my way.

  I got up out of my bed and looked around my room. Hardly any of this was useful to me anymore. I went into my closet, grabbed a bunch of clothes, and dropped them off on the bed. If I was really doing this, I'd need to pack up. I went and grabbed my heavy bug out bag. I always left a little bit of extra room in it for anything I hadn't previously thought of. I brought the bag to my room and stuffed my clothes into it. I grabbed an extra pair of boots and tossed them on top of the mound of clothes before zipping up the bag.

  From a drawer, I pulled out my drop leg holster that I wished I’d brought with me on my previous journey. I fed my belt through it and clipped the bottom piece around my thigh. I grabbed my pistol and dropped it in the holster along with two full magazines; one on each side.

  I brought all of my stuff downstairs and flipped open the footlocker I’d been using as a coffee table. Inside was where I’d kept the extra grenades and the tracer rounds that I’d brought home from the bar. I stuffed my pockets. If I’d learned anything from my experience, it would be that you can never be too prepared. Lastly, I grabbed the crow bar and stood up.

  It'd probably be best if I left a note. I don't want everyone thinking I was just eaten by a damn bear or something lame like that. I walked over to the kitchen area and grabbed a knife. On the counter I began to carve my message:

  To all my friends,

  I have set out in this world to find a new adventure. I've been in this place for far too long, and have grown tired of the attention I've been receiving. I'm not done. I have not retired. I was born for great things, and it is my duty to seek these great things out. I will miss you and remember you all fondly, but I must be on my way. Look out for each other. Maybe I'll be back someday. If so, I still get free drinks. Never forget that.