Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary

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Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary Page 18

by Scott, Joshua Jared


  “See anything wrong?” I asked, as I stopped the Jeep.

  “I see zombie snacks waiting to happen.”

  Briana knew what was what. It’d be hard not to after all we’d seen and heard.

  “Let’s see if they’re any brighter than they appear.”

  “Wouldn’t count on that Jacob.”

  We got out and were immediately surrounded by a large number of people. My hand slammed down on my pistol with Briana following suit. Lizzy had hers drawn as she headed our way. The crowd parted to give her ample room.

  “Now, everyone calm down,” ordered a voice.

  A graying man, slightly stooped, moved to the forefront.

  “Don’t be scaring them by running up like that,” he continued. “They must have been through a great deal.”

  I nodded. There was no indication of possible violence, but I did not want strangers, especially nowadays, mobbing me.

  “I’m Thomas Wills, pastor of the Living Bible Church of Christ,” he said as way of introduction.

  “Jacob,” I replied, “and Briana. That’s Lizzy, Lois, and Mary.” They had joined us. “The family over there is Simon, Julie, and Michael. And that’s Cherie.” They were also out of their vehicles but holding back.

  “Where are you folk from?”

  “Texas,” said Briana.

  Upon hearing this, whispers and comments began to spring up.

  “But only us,” she continued. “Cherie is Minnesota. The Bransons are from Iowa, and Lizzy, Lois, and Mary are from Kansas. We met them on our way here.”

  “Well,” said the pastor, “that is quite a variety. We are mostly from Illinois ourselves, here for a religious retreat. A few others were campers or visitors to the park who stayed after the Devil’s work began.”

  Lizzy snorted loudly. She seemed to be picking up Briana’s habit of doing that anytime she thought someone was spouting nonsense. She did holster her pistol however.

  “You don’t believe the dead coming back to attack the living is the work of Satan?” asked a woman, rather angrily.

  “No way to tell who or what caused this,” I countered.

  “Well, it is clearly the end of times. Judgment Day is coming. It has been foretold.”

  I really did not like this woman, but since she wasn’t to be around much longer, it didn’t matter. I never did learn her name though. I should ask the others about that later, in case someone knew what it was. Come to think of it, I hadn’t learned the police officer’s name either. Poor guy was certainly a zombie by now, if he hadn’t killed himself first.

  “You are referring to the Book of Revelations I presume?”

  “Of course,” she sniffed.

  Yep, she was a bitch.

  “I’ve crossed a good part of the country, and I’ve seen nothing to indicate that’s the case. There has been no rapture, but I have my doubts concerning the more popular Biblical interpretations concerning that concept. No wars or other signs. Nothing in the current zombie apocalypse matches anything in Revelations or in the Bible as a whole. This has nothing to do with Judgment Day.”

  She began to turn purple as anger threatened to overwhelm her. Hee Hee. It was fun to annoy the self-righteous. Now, I like religious people. I was fairly religious myself, although I admit I rarely attend church, preferring to sleep in on Sunday mornings, but I always disliked those who knew, with absolute certainty, everything and would make facts fit their beliefs no matter how convoluted the logic became.

  “We have had this very discussion many times,” said Pastor Wills, defusing the situation. “You, Jacob, are correct in that the current situation has not been foretold. That does not mean it is not part of God’s plan or of divine or hellish creation.”

  “I’m leaning toward the alien theory myself,” I said.

  “What alien theory?” asked Lizzy. “How come you haven’t shared this with me?”

  “Yeah,” added Mary. “Shame on you.”

  “I want to hear the alien theory,” said Briana.

  “You haven’t even told your girlfriend,” admonished Lizzy. “That’s double shame on you.”

  There were quite a few questioning glances directed my way. I was clearly much older than Briana. It would get worse when they found out she was only seventeen.

  “Yes, Jacob,” said Briana, “shame, shame, and a few more on top.”

  I noticed she made no comment about Lizzy referring to her as my girlfriend.

  “Just something I’ve been mulling over. Look at it this way, we are surrounded by zombies. The zombies eat human flesh, are driven to do so above all else. They die only if shot in the head. Those bitten reanimate a few minutes after death, as zombies. All of this matches up eerily well with the general zombie mythos, starting back with Night of the Living Dead. That cannot be coincidence. Then, the zombies do not rot, aside from a little bit at the very start, and they don’t fall apart or break down with time. That is far, far removed from any laws of science. I think aliens with super advanced technology could have decided to destroy the human race in a very evil and artistically entertaining way. We could even be part of an extra-terrestrial reality show.”

  Lizzy laughed. “I want a copy when it’s done.”

  “Such things,” interrupted the pastor, “could more easily be of divine design. There is no evidence aliens exist, though it is of course possible given the scale of creation. We, however, do know of God’s glory and power.”

  “True,” I admitted. “Either way, I don’t see how it much matters. Survival is what’s important right now. If we get the answers great, but looking for them is secondary, especially since we probably won’t ever be able to find them. Not much point dwelling on the matter either.”

  “Which is why,” said Lizzy, “I want to know why you people are so fucking stupid.”

  There was a lot of grumbling at this. One could always trust Lizzy to be counter diplomatic.

  “Whatever do you mean child?” asked Pastor Wills.

  “To start with, don’t call me that. I’m too old. But really, look at all of you. You’re scattered about without guards. Don’t you worry about zombies getting in? This is like a twisted church buffet.”

  “There are none of the walking dead here,” explained the pastor. “Yes, we lost many good people when the change hit that night. We were awake, having gotten up early to watch a meteor shower. It wasn’t one of the large ones, but it was quite beautiful out here without the glare of city lights obscuring the heavens. I digress. We experienced that terror, and we dealt with it, once we understood what was happening.”

  “How many did you lose before you finally knew that?” she demanded.

  The pastor looked somewhat ruffled, but he was exceptionally good at remaining calm.

  “I had the same Lizzy,” said Simon, “and you didn’t know what was happening when you first saw the zombies either. You told us so yourself. You can’t imply they should have realized what was happening right away. No one understood at first.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s true. Didn’t mean the bad parts.”

  “Still a valid question,” said Cherie. “A great many died or were infected in the initial hours, possibly more than fell in the original change. How did you fare?”

  “We didn’t lose that many,” said Pastor Wills, “too many though. We did, with the help of others in the area, grant the fallen some final peace, and when those bitten succumbed, we provided them the same courtesy.”

  “So you shot them in the head,” said Lizzy, “or bashed their skulls in. Tire irons work great for that. Can be a bit messy however. Get all sorts of nastiness on your clothes.”

  “Okay Lizzy,” I ordered. “Quiet time now.”

  She glared at me but stopped when Lois grabbed her arm.

  “Yes, Lizzy,” added Cherie, “listen to your lover and stop being so disruptive.”

  It didn’t take long for the gathered people to realize what Cherie was alluding too, a few seconds at most. More talking,
little of it good, began. Julie was smiling.

  “Whatever you say Jew girl,” snapped Lizzy.

  Cherie blushed as more, though far less virulent, whispers began. The people here certainly seemed to enjoy gossiping.

  “Now, now,” said Pastor Wills. “Enough of this bickering and nonsense. We are all God’s children, and we welcome all with open arms. While we may disapprove of choices some make, we will always try to bring you into the light.”

  I found myself liking him even more. He was a pleasant man, and I never faulted anyone for trying to convert others to their faith. Most religions mandated you try, so it was to be expected. It’s the senseless haters who annoy me.

  “But this is an awkward way in which to discuss matters,” continued the preacher. “Let’s move to the tables and sit down. You can join us for dinner and tell us of your journey and travails.”

  “Do you like beans?” asked Mary. “We have plenty to contribute.”

  “We are running low on food,” he admitted, “so if you can spare some we will be most grateful. You are welcome to spend the night here as well, or join us permanently if you choose.”

  “We’ll have dinner,” I said quickly. Lizzy had been opening her mouth to say something. “But I don’t know if we’ll stay past tomorrow morning. We do want to remain in this area permanently, but I’d like to drive around and find the best possible spot to settle in.”

  “The lake is quite nice,” said Pastor Wills, “but I can understand looking about. We have not done that so much ourselves, preferring to wait here until the government resolves matters.”

  He thought the government would fix this? That was a bad sign. Briana shot me a look that let me know she felt the same. We would definitely leave in the morning, and tonight we’d sleep in the vehicles, parked well away from their tents. They were careless, and I didn’t want to get stuck next to them if something bad happened.

  * * *

  The dinner went well, and we finished several gallon cans of beans lighter. I didn’t particularly like parting with so much food, but it was appropriate to share. Besides, we’re talking about beans. The pastor’s group contributed a fish chowder made from what they’d recently caught and a variety of fresh vegetables taken from a nearby garden.

  We also discovered that the church group, and those who’d banded with them, knew full well what had befallen the world, but other than one early attempt to go outside the camp area, which apparently did not go well, they’d stayed put and waited for help. No zombies had attacked, and we were the first outsiders to arrive. Due to this isolation, they truly believed they were safe, provided they remained in the forest and away from the highway. The shamblers did prefer easy paths, no doubt about that, but this place was close to several back roads and trails. It was only a matter of time.

  We told them what we knew, what we had seen, and they listened to our stories, although most seemed to think the horrors we experienced were bad luck on our part. Several believed there had to be at least a few cities that survived, using Edwin’s example as justification. Personally, I had no doubt that quite a few small communities pulled through, but I’d be very surprised to learn any large cities had made it. There might be enclaves within them, probably were, but I couldn’t see how a place that once held hundreds of thousands or millions of people could have been maintained.

  Adding to my concerns about this group was their lack of interest in exploring. After their one abortive attempt to get help, they decided to remain where they were. They took all the food from a nearby house and had been tending its large garden. They checked abandoned cars and those belonging to the departed for supplies. But that was it. That was all they did. They just placed their faith in God and the government and waited for someone to come to the rescue. Not once did they venture out of sight of their tiny lake. Useless.

  Julie didn’t seem to care about the lack of sense, or understanding, that was prevalent among this bunch. She was ecstatic about finding someone other than me to latch onto. During dinner she, Michael, and Simon sat well away from the rest of us. Their minds had been made up. In contrast, Lizzy stayed next to Briana and me, with Mary and Lois hanging close as well. When morning came our little group would fragment. Julie would be gone, staying with the pastor. Good riddance to her, and thank God that she had solved one of my biggest problems for me. Lizzy, Lois, and Mary would remain with Briana and myself. As to Cherie, I had no idea. She flitted about talking to everyone. The woman was hard to read.

  Interlude – Briana’s Story

  I’ve already related the story of how Briana barricaded herself in a bedroom and eventually escaped her zombified family. Now I’m going to add what happened between that moment in time and our first meeting, something she did not share with me until after we reached the Nebraska National Forest. I’d always thought there was more to her tale than she let on, simply because she made it out of her house early on the second day but didn’t reach my door until nightfall. There were many, many unaccounted for hours, and I never believed, or assumed, that she had been running about the entire time.

  After escaping, Briana headed for Jennifer’s house. Her long time friend and classmate lived only two blocks over, and Briana managed to get there without too much difficulty. Some zombies did spot her, but she quickly outdistanced them – she really is in exceptional physical condition, far better than me. Running up to the door, she banged on it, screaming for Jennifer to let her in. Moments later she heard the lock flip, and it swung open.

  “Briana!” Jennifer pulled her friend inside and slammed the door shut, locking it once more. Then she peered out the window apprehensively. “Any of those things follow you?”

  “Some tried.” She was breathing heavily. “But, they’re slow.”

  “Did they see you come to the door?”

  “Don’t think so. Why?”

  Jennifer relaxed. “Thank goodness.” She threw her arms about Briana, holding her tight. “I’m so glad to see you. After all that happened…”

  She began to cry, and Briana found she couldn’t restrain the sobs either.

  “My mom and brother.”

  “Oh, that’s horrible.”

  Briana nodded. “What about your dad?”

  Jennifer lived with her father. Her parents were divorced with her mother off in California desperately, and without success, trying to become a movie star. Her lack of talent, alcoholism, and abusive tendencies were likely to keep that from ever happening. Jennifer didn’t particularly care if she ever saw the woman again or not.

  “He,” she began, letting go of Briana and plopping herself on the sofa. “He went outside yesterday. We saw Mrs. Johnson pulling up early in the morning. She’d been out of town – we were watering her plants for her – and we didn’t know if she knew what was going on. Dad and I had been watching the news, so we knew some of it. I know it sounds weird that she wouldn’t, but it was still really, really early.”

  “How early?”

  Jennifer shrugged. “Maybe 5:30 or so. My dad had gotten up for work, and he saw it on the television and woke me. It was still dark out. Well, he hurried out when Mrs. Johnson got home, and some asshole came flying around the corner and hit him with his car.” She was crying hard now. “The bastard didn’t stop or even slow down, just drove off. Mrs. Johnson saw what happened, and she tried to help, but then some zombies appeared. She ran into her house.”

  “They’re zombies? Like in movies?” This was the first time Briana had heard the term used, but it did match up with what she’d seen and experienced. She began to feel sick to her stomach.

  “That’s what they said on the TV. They’re definitely dead. Anyway, the zombies, they, um, they…”

  “They bit him,” finished Briana, thinking of her brother.

  “He screamed for so long. I couldn’t go outside – there were so many of them – and he told me to stay indoors and keep the door locked.” Jennifer wiped away her tears with the back of one hand. “He got up
later, one of them. I almost opened the door when I saw him move, but Mrs. Johnson did that first. She must’ve been watching too.”

  “My dad started staggering toward her. There were other zombies as well, in the street. They all went and started hitting her door, pounding it with their fists. Then one saw her looking out a window. It walked right over her flowers and broke through the glass, just sort of falling inside. A bunch went after it. I could hear her screaming. She came outside a while later, after the other zombies had wandered away. She had bites all over, just like my…”

  “Mom bit my brother,” said Briana suddenly. She didn’t want to talk about it, but as with Jennifer something was forcing the words out. “He was in bed sleeping when she did that. I woke up when he screamed.”

  “What happened?” Jennifer had a hand over her mouth.

  “I ran to my room and piled everything I had in front of the door. I stayed there all day while they tried to get inside. Finally went out the window and ran here.”

  “What are we going to do Briana?”

  “I don’t know. Were you able to call anyone?”

  “Phones are dead, even my cell. I can’t get anything to work. I have food, if you’re hungry.”

  “I am, but… I don’t really feel like it. Know what I mean?”

  Jennifer nodded, though she didn’t really. She tended to eat during times of stress. “I have chips and salsa if you want something light,” she offered.

  “I guess,” said Briana, noncommittally.

  Her friend went into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with the snack. It was dark and dreary in the living room with the blinds closed, but neither thought to move.

  “Do you think,” began Jennifer, “that it’s like this everywhere? Like us I mean, with people hiding in their houses.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Why? Do you know of some place we could go? Did you hear something on the news? My TV was busted, so I really don’t know what’s happening.”

 

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