As The World Dies: The First Days-A Zombie Trilogy

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As The World Dies: The First Days-A Zombie Trilogy Page 6

by Rhiannon Frater


  "This morning they called it race riots. When it hit more cities, they called it mob violence. Early this afternoon they started calling them "the infected"." Ralph sat down in a comfortable, over-stuffed chair.

  Katie sat slowly on a flowered sofa with big crocheted doilies decorating the back and armrests. Jack sat at her feet and yawned.

  "I never saw or heard the news," she said softly. "I was attacked during early morning rush hour. A man...he tried to rescue me but they got him. Jack belongs-belonged to him. On Jack's vet papers it says the owner was the Reverend William Hampton. He saved my life."

  Ralph nodded. "And you saved the girl with you."

  "Yes," Katie's gaze remained fixated on the screen. It was now showing a map of the United States highlighting where all the violence was occurring. "I had driven home to check on my...spouse." She hesitated, not really sure if she wanted to come out of the closet to this old-timer. "It was too late."

  "They got him," the old man said softly.

  Lydia rushing toward her, screaming, her chest torn open...

  Katie nodded mutely and wiped away a tear. "Yes."

  Ralph shook his head. "It's gone crazy. The whole world."

  "Can I hear?" Katie motioned to the TV.

  Ralph hesitated, then reached out, snagged the remote, and unmuted the TV.

  "...and for anyone to suggest that this is something more than a viral infection that is causing psychotic behavior is ludicrous. We are not living in the dark ages," the man on the screen said firmly.

  "Because of the severe wounds on the attackers, people are claiming the attackers are actually the reanimated dead," the reporter pointed out.

  "Preposterous! We live in a modern era of medicine and science, not superstition. If we do not treat this as a medical crisis immediately we are doomed. Those who have been bitten and are infected must immediately report to the nearest hospital for treatment," the man identified as Philip Tritch was saying tersely.

  "Most of the hospitals are now overrun with the...the CDC called them reanimated corpses."

  "The CDC has fallen prey to the hysteria of a population overwhelmed by the mass infection of an Ebola-like virus..."

  Ralph muted the TV. "'Bout one o'clock they said not to go to the hospitals anymore. Then CDC came on air and said it was a bunch of dead people getting up. Called them reanimated dead. Found it funny. Nobody wants to say zombie."

  Katie smiled slightly, remembering her own reluctance to embrace that word. When had that changed? She wasn't sure. But it was clear to her now that the dead had returned.

  And so she sat, watching the screen, watching reporters trying to report live from around the world only to be run down and torn apart. She watched anchormen and women break down crying as more and more reports flowed in. Maps were flashed on the screen showing where blackouts were already occurring. TV helicopters hovered over masses of the reanimated dead as they ran through the streets howling, chasing anyone still alive. Scenes of fires burning, the army firing, bombs exploding...

  "It's the end," the old man said.

  Katie rubbed her face and looked at him. "You think so."

  "Too many of them now," Ralph answered.

  Katie wiped a tear away and looked back at the screen. A reporter was sobbing as he read off the overrun shelters that people should not report to. Ralph flipped a channel to show Chicago on fire. More maps showing the infection. Their area, she noted, was free of any of the major markers. It figured since they were out in a sparsely populated area. The cities and larger towns were deathtraps. She was relieved that she had made the right choice to run into the hills.

  A hand tenderly took hers and she turned to see Jenni sitting next to her. She smiled slightly and squeezed the trembling hand. Together, they sat and watched.

  "The President is being evacuated from the White House to go to Camp David and will soon release a statement to the nation," the local Texan anchorwoman said, her lips trembling. "We are soon abandoning our station to go to a shelter. Anyone who is still watching this, stay where you are, be happy if you are with your family, don't go into the cities. Don't risk it. Don't listen to what anyone says on these shows anymore. We don't know anything. No one does. Just fight to live until you don't want to go on anymore. My family is dead. I just got the word. Do you understand?" She was crying openly now and her co-anchor reached out to calm her. "I don't want to die like that. I don't want to be one of those things! It's all over!"

  The camera started to swing away from her, but anyone still watching saw her lift the gun she had been keeping on her lap to her chin. The sharp retort and blood splatter hitting the co-anchor was vivid evidence of her suicide.

  Jenni sobbed beside her and Ralph switched off the TV.

  "She had some good advice. They don't know nothing. I got more information watching zombie movies on the late night picture show," he said.

  Katie nodded and stood up shakily. Nerit came to hold Jenni and whisper to her soothingly. Jenni continued to sob loudly and Jack whined as he tried to soothe her with little doggie kisses. Katie moved on stiff and numb legs across the living room and pushed back a heavy brocade curtain.

  The sun was setting slowly behind the hills. Below her stood a man, bloody and mutilated, looking left then right over and over again. She knew if he looked up and saw her that he would start that horrible shriek.

  She left the curtain fall back into place. Standing before the window, she felt herself let go of the old world and embrace the new. She would survive this. She would go on. There was all there was to it. She couldn't give up without a fight. She would do whatever it took to survive.

  Turning to Ralph, she said softly, "When's dinner?"

  Chapter 4

  1. Purgatory

  Jenni was bored.

  Her finger clenched.

  The head with the long blond hair burst and the body tumbled forward.

  "That was Dwayne Emory," Ralph said behind her.

  Nerit crossed another name off the list.

  They all stood on the roof of the hunting store once more. The evening sky spread out above them a lush panorama of cold stars and velvet darkness. The zombies of the small town spread out on the dirty street below in a shambling mess of dead flesh and lost hopes.

  "See if you can get the one over the corner," Ralph said and pointed.

  Jenni aimed again, her finger squeezed, and another head popped like an overripe tomato.

  The evening had started off well enough. A delicious dinner with good conversation followed by cheesecake had made her feel better than she had all day.

  Afterwards, they had trudged downstairs into the shop at Katie's insistence.

  Jenni glanced over at Katie who stood next to her. Nerit was instructing Katie on the finer points of the rifle she was holding. She had tucked her blond curls up into a ponytail making her Germanic features stand out strongly. Katie radiated strength and it made Jenni feel safe. Ralph and Nerit were capable, but Katie was the one to follow.

  Nerit had found a skirt and T-shirt for Jenni to wear and she felt more comfortable now. She had thrown the bathrobe and nightgown away with disgust, never wanting to see them again. The color pink would forever haunt her. She wanted to forget about this morning and those tiny fingers...those tiny fingers...

  She squeezed the trigger again.

  Chunks of brain matter splattered the lamppost.

  "Reload", Ralph said.

  Jenni quickly complied.

  Ralph had shown them around his spacious store, explaining the history of the well-fortified building. Originally it had been the town jail, before the great fire that had wiped out most of Main Street (the entire town Jenni took it) and then it had been the town bank. Finally, when the town died out except for a few hangers-on, it became a hunting store, which was the only real commerce in the area.

  "Hunters come here for all seasons. Make a good living off of them. And the Internet," Ralph said as he had opened up a door to reveal a st
ate of the art computer. "Store is on-line and I sell hunting and camping gear. Works well. Makes money."

  Ralph had shown them a small set of offices in the back that doubled as the city hall and post office. Evidently, Ralph was the Mayor and Nerit the postmaster.

  The building was bigger than she had originally thought and jammed with everything a small town could need in one nice little package.

  Jenni found it all very boring.

  Katie, though, had been absolutely riveted by everything Ralph explained to her. They had talked about all sorts of things that Jenni didn't understand or really didn't care about. Small town politics, law enforcement, gun laws...

  Jenni had wandered to the front door and watched two women slowly eat away at Six Figures Guy. One of them looked up at her, snarled, and ran for the window. Jenni didn't flinch when the woman ran straight into the heavy metal bars and busted her face open. The zombie tried to wedge a hand through the bars and Jenni watched the woman's torn fingers scratch futilely at the window.

  So much like the little fingers...those tiny fingers...

  "More are getting out of that store. Gonna have to put them down tonight or we'll have issues in the morning", Ralph had decided from behind her.

  Then the most tedious part of the night started. Two hours of Ralph going over the variety of guns they had to chose from. They went through a slew of guns until they found at least two they were comfortable with. Finally, they had trudged back upstairs and got another lesson on loading and reloading the guns.

  And finally, they had started shooting zombies.

  Jenni had enjoyed shooting that one woman who had rushed the window. She had reminded her too much of Benji and his tiny fingers.

  Now Jenni stood next to Katie, the night wind buffeting her dark hair, aiming at yet another zombie staggering out of the darkness into the light pooling below the street lamps. Tilting her head slightly, she studied him, his labored swagger, and his profuse beer belly. His wife-beater shirt was stained with blood and gore.

  She shot him in the knee.

  He went down, growling, clawing at the ground. Over and over again he tried to get up, only to have his leg give way beneath him. Finally, he looked up and saw her. Shrieking, he reached up, desperately.

  Jenni narrowed her eyes and fired.

  The bullet punched neatly through his head.

  "Nerit and I have been talking and we know you said you just want supplies, but we want you to consider staying here. Once we clean out the town, it will be safer than the world out there."

  Jenni turned swiftly. "We can't!"

  Katie flicked the safety on her rifle and reached out to calm Jenni with a gentle touch on her arm. "We need to move on and get her stepson. He's stranded out at a camp in the national park."

  Ralph considered this. "I can understand that. But when you get him, then what?"

  Katie looked at Jenni, then back at Ralph. "Honestly, we haven't talked about it."

  Jenni hung back a little behind Katie. She really liked the old people, but she wasn't sure this was the place for them. She liked Katie being in charge and she wasn't sure of this whole new dynamic. Yes, they had only spent maybe ten hours together in the car, but in that time she had grown to trust Katie. She suddenly just wanted to be in the truck, with Katie and Jack, and far away from here.

  "Well, you are welcome here. You two gals talk about it and maybe once you get that boy safe and sound, you can come back here. Nerit and I could use the company. The town is gone," Ralph said. He took steady aim and fired. "Gun shots are bringing them out. Might as well clean up as many as we can," he said.

  Nerit nodded and took her position at the back of the building.

  After an hour of firing, it was clear whatever could walk their way had and whatever remained of the town was still locked away in houses or cars. The street was littered with bodies: young, old, male and female. A few of the town dogs wandered out to sniff at the bodies. Whatever had turned their former masters into zombies must not have smelled particularly good. The dogs darted away, whimpering.

  Jenni's ears hurt despite the earplugs and she felt rather moody as they were shown into the guest bedroom.

  "Only have one room. Hope you don't mind," Ralph said.

  "It's fine," Katie assured him.

  "Bathroom is through that door. Laid out big T-shirts for you gals to wear. See you in the morning," he said, and shut the door.

  Jenni sat on the bed and sighed. She watched as Katie tossed off the hunting jacket she had worn on and off since she had rescued Jenni. Katie sat on the bed beside her and kicked off her high heels and sighed.

  "You want to shower first?"

  "Katie, are we coming back here?"

  Katie sighed again, her hands resting on her knees, and looked toward Jenni. "Maybe. It seems about safe as it’s going to get."

  Jenni nodded, letting her hair fall into her face. "I just..." Jack nosed her hand and she started to pet him slowly. "I just...just..."

  "It's too much right now. I know. To many changes." Katie put a gentle arm around Jenni's shoulders and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Too much to deal with..."

  "I felt safe in the truck," Jenni whispered. "I know that sounds stupid, but I felt safe with you driving and Jack on my lap. We felt safe. But here...we have to shoot things and be behind bars and it feels..."

  "Like a prison?"

  "Like I'm back home not able to go out when Lloyd isn't with me. Having to..." Jenni faltered. It was hard to explain that today had been the most "free" day of her life in more than a decade. She clung to Katie and wept. Wept out of guilt because she did feel free and wept because she was free only because Lloyd was gone and so were her babies.

  Katie held her tightly, her fingers lightly stroking her hair. It took Jenni a moment to realize Katie was crying, too.

  "It's okay. We're safe and we need to remember that," Katie said softly. "Tomorrow, we'll do what we have to do. And the day after that. And the day after that."

  Jenni nodded and held tightly to Katie. "Okay...okay...I trust you." And she did. With all her heart.

  When she finally came out of the shower, pink and clean, hair glistening with water, Katie was the one who combed her hair and dried it gently with a towel, then helped her into bed. For a moment, Jenni felt utterly safe and content. Tears still flowed and her sobs came in soft hiccups, but she felt comforted by Katie's presence.

  "It's okay to cry now," Katie whispered.

  Jenni nodded and covered her face with her hands and wept.

  Wept for her dead children, the dead world, and for her new found freedom...

  2. The Moment

  The water sluiced off Katie's body as she sat at the bottom of the old fashioned tub complete with clawed feet. Her forehead resting on her knees and her hands flat on the tops of her feet, she sat sobbing softly. How long she had sat there, she wasn't sure, but the water was growing cold. Soon after climbing into the shower, she had been overcome with grief and had slid down to her knees and cried. Sobs had wracked her body with such viciousness that her body now ached.

  She missed Lydia so much it was a palatable, physical pain in her stomach.

  All it had taken to start the torrent of tears was the mere thought of "I missed my jog." And the deluge had started. Every night, she and Lydia would jog through their neighborhood and up into the hills before coming home to a nice bath, a simple dinner, and maybe a few hours of TV. Afterwards, they would curl up together and fall asleep to the gentle sound of each other breathing.

  It had been bliss.

  But now...

  All she heard was the damn moaning outside. It was growing in volume so most likely more of those things were showing up outside the building.

  The water was growing colder.

  She reached out and turned off the flow and struggled to her feet. Her body hurt more than she realized and she stumbled getting out of the shower. Landing hard on the mat, she threw up her hands and started to cry
all over again.

  Rage filled her and she kicked the door to the cabinet under the sink again for good measure. Wiping her tears away angrily with her cold fingers, she snorted and sniffled, her nose running wildly.

  Why...why...why...gawddammit...why...

  She buried her face in her hands and curled her knees up to her chest and sobbed.

  A gentle hand on her damp hair made her raise her head. Jenni's face swam before her, pale and concerned. Jack sat at her side, yawning, and looking bleary-eyed.

  "I just can't," Katie whispered.

  Jenni stroked her face and her mouth pursed in thought. "Can't what?"

  "Let her be dead in my heart, in my mind," she answered.

  Katie refused to look at the image in her mind of Lydia shrieking and charging her, her chest torn open, and her heart gone. Instead, she made herself see Lydia, as she had been just thirty minutes before that, smiling, happy, kissing her softly goodbye, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand.

  Jenni wrapped her arms around Katie and held her gently. Her black hair was soft and soothing on her cold skin and Katie leaned into her. They sat that way for a long time, until Katie's sobs subsided.

  Awkwardness set in and Jenni sat back, her brow furrowed, looking anxious, and maybe even confused. Her T-shirt and shorts, which both read "Hunters do it better", were now damp.

  Katie rubbed her face and felt flushed and tired. Nothing in this new world felt right. Nothing.

  It was then Jenni tried to kiss her, very awkwardly and unsure of herself.

  Katie caught her immediately and held her back. "Don't."

  "I just want to make you feel-" Jenni mumbled, her face reddening.

  "Don't. I'm not your husband. I don't need sex to comfort me. Or make me feel better." Katie held Jenni firmly back. She realized in that moment she had been waiting for this. Subconsciously, she had understood that Jenni was looking for security in this new world. And that would mean Katie fitting into a role Jenni understood. Jenni was used to a strong male figure that she could calm with sex, follow obediently and maybe fear a little.

 

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