Dead Soil: A Zombie Series

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Dead Soil: A Zombie Series Page 11

by Alex Apostol


  Lonnie blinked slowly as he continued to grin. All at once, he snapped out of whatever trance he was in and looked around at his people. “The new girl here,”

  “Gretchen.”

  “Gretchen,” he repeated with an echo. “Thinks we should look for supplies and shelter.” There was a long pause as he spun in a circle to see everyone individually.

  No one responded as they waited for Lonnie to get to the point without all the dramatics of a drill sergeant.

  “Well, I think she’s right. We’re tired, hungry, and damn thirsty. At least I am.”

  Carolyn and Rowan nodded their heads, willing to agree with anything Lonnie said.

  Gale rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that day, but Lonnie didn’t notice, just like all the other times.

  Lee was silent and still, an onlooker rather than a participant in the going ons of the ragtag group.

  Mitchell’s eyes darted around nervously.

  “Let’s head to the lake and then find a store to raid,” Lonnie ordered.

  Gale’s round body perked up. “That idea’s shit.”

  Lonnie threw his arms up and looked at the sky with an exaggerated sigh. “Here we go again. Big Bertha, do you have to argue with me every step of the fucking way?”

  “Only when you’re wrong.”

  He collected himself from his borderline fit and puffed out his chest to stroll over to her. “What did you say?” He was inches from her face.

  Gale’s voice didn’t waiver as she spoke. She stood as tall as any other five foot four woman with aching feet could have. “I said it’s a dumb idea. There are houses all up and down that lake. You think those people aren’t protecting their water? Their fresh water? Think they let just any wannabe G.I. Joe kid come waltzing up and take as much as they want?”

  “She does have a valid point, there,” Mitchell agreed.

  “Hey!” Rowan barked with his pistol raised. “Lonnie thinks we should go to the lake so that’s where we’re going!”

  “Ya’ll don’t like it you can find another bunch of assholes to go die with, because I don’t plan on dying of thirst when there’s a fucking giant-ass lake not even a mile away and dead people walking around trying to eat us!”

  “You might want to keep your voice down, then,” Mitchell rambled quickly.

  “Man, you need to learn when to keep your fucking mouth shut!”

  “I think that’s exactly what he was just telling you,” Gretchen chimed in. She stood with one foot planted firmly on the pavement of the winding highway as the other one jutted out in front of her, her hip popped as her hand rested on it.

  Lonnie glared, but didn’t walk her way again. He looked down at the ground and shook his head with his hands on his hips. His rifle was slung over his back. “You know, you’re absolutely right again, Miss Gretchen. I’ll try to…control…the volume of my voice.” The corners of his light blue eyes crinkled from his joker grin.

  It was unnerving. Gretchen couldn’t hold his gaze any longer and looked away towards Gale, who gave a snort once Lonnie was back at the head of the group. Gretchen walked slowly as the others moved on to follow Lonnie to the lake. She let her feet drag and stayed close by Gale’s side. She watched her from her peripherals.

  Did Gale not remember meeting her before or was she pretending not to know her now? And for that matter, was Lonnie doing the same? The questions had constantly filled her and clouded her head since she joined the group. She hadn’t know them well before everything happened, but she recognized them immediately when she stepped out from behind that bush days ago. How could they not remember her? She’d met them both on the same night, in the same club. She let the thoughts of that night, not long ago, swirl through her mind as she shuffled aimlessly forward.

  VIII.

  Gretchen locked the door to the photography studio and turned off the lights in the front room. The computer monitor she used to check customers in gave off an eerie glow around her desk. She walked to the back where boxes and crates were piled everywhere, containing cloth backdrops and props for shoots.

  Perched on a stack of crates was Gretchen’s girlfriend, Charlie. She was hunched over a Nikon camera, twisting the long lenses off as she inspected it with great detail.

  Charlie did the same thing every night after closing up shop. Her work was her pride and joy. She’d built her studio up from the ground after she graduated from Columbia College of Chicago. The city had proved to be such a miraculous subject that she never went back to Long Beach.

  Gretchen wasn’t thrilled about the decision to stay. Chicago was too close to home for comfort. She wanted to go back to California, where the sun shone year round and her judgmental parents were thousands of miles away.

  She stood by the door, concealed behind a stack of plastic crates, and watched Charlie for a moment in admiration. Her girlfriend looked effortlessly cool as her short, wispy, dark hair fell into her equally dark eyes. The sleeves of her thin, cotton shirt were pushed up just past her elbows, showcasing her bronzed, flawless skin. Her khaki skinny jeans hugged her narrow legs all the way down to the ankles, where she kicked her feet out and let them fall with a thud against the crate. One of her brown flats threatened to break free from her foot and tumble to the floor as it hung on for dear life.

  Gretchen smiled and exhaled the softest breath of laughter.

  Charlie’s head sprung up with spritely eyes widened in curiosity, her thin lips parted in a smile. “Spying on me from the shadows, you weirdo?”

  Gretchen came out of hiding, the light from the long hanging lamp above her illuminated her silky blonde hair. “Just like watching you work.”

  “Well in that case,” Charlie smiled and picked her camera back up to clean it with a Q-Tip. She looked up at her girlfriend with bedroom eyes as she wiped the lens. She couldn’t contain her girlish laughter and burst out with her head thrown back. “You about ready to go?”

  “I guess.” Gretchen meandered around and peeked into random boxes as she passed by them.

  “Uh oh. I know what that means. You don’t really want to go, do you?”

  Gretchen shrugged, unable to lie and say she wanted to go, but also unable to voice that she absolutely did not want to go in fear of hurting her girlfriend’s feelings. They had only lived together for ten months, but it still felt new to Gretchen. Charlie was her first girlfriend and her first serious relationship.

  “I know you’re not completely comfortable there, but we’re just going to the gay bar because that’s where my aunt and her fiancée are having their bachelorette party,” Charlie said as she stood up and carefully put the camera back in its nylon, black case.

  Gretchen leaned over the sink by the back door to apply a rosy shade of lipstick and shag up her wavy hair. She ran her fingers over her smooth, tanned cheeks and pulled them back to make them skinnier, then let them fall back into place. She took out a pencil eyeliner from the pocket of her pink and gray plaid shirt. Her mouth hung open as she applied it meticulously.

  Charlie waited in the background for Gretchen to say something, anything, to reassure her that she wanted to be in the relationship. It was impossible to ignore the angst in Gretchen’s eyes when people on the street stared at their clasped hands. She still wasn’t comfortable with her newfound sexuality and it made Charlie writhe with worrisome fear.

  “I’m fine with the bar,” Gretchen said, distant.

  “OK. Good.” For being such a tomboy, Charlie’s voice was soft and feminine, especially when she had doubts.

  Gretchen turned and cocked her head to the side. Her blue eyes softened. She walked over and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Stop worrying,” she said in a subdued voice. “I love you.”

  It was just what Charlie needed to hear. Their lips touched briefly and softly before their fingers intertwined and Charlie dragged Gretchen out the door.

  ——

  The bar was enormous. A thumping bass vibrated the walls from a hidden source. The lights
were dim and the circular bar was placed in the direct center of the floor. The girls opted for a long table off to the side that would seat the entire small bachelorette party once they arrived.

  They were the first ones there. Gretchen sat down on a stool next to the wall.

  “Want a drink?” Charlie asked as she rested her hands on Gretchen’s shoulders and massaged them.

  “Yeah, Sam Adams.” She reached over to pat Charlie’s hand twice, not allowing herself to linger for too long.

  Charlie leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I know. Just like always.”

  Gretchen sat alone and looked around the bar, which was slowly filling with more people. She swore she felt their eyes inspecting her, wondering if she was really a lesbian or just some straight girl who wanted to try a new, exotic lifestyle for the night. Some days even she didn’t know which one she was.

  A stocky boy with short blond hair cut in military fashion came striding up to her with his friend at his heels. His sunburnt arms were covered in a random mixture of flat, black tattoos and white-blonde hair.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asked Gretchen as he leaned his hand on the table, his eyes boring into her.

  She could tell he was freshly twenty-one and his friend wasn’t much older, too young for Gretchen who was rounding on thirty in the fall.

  “Ah, no…I’m good. Thanks.”

  “I’m Lonnie,” he said as he extended his hand out to her.

  The nameless friend behind him, who had been sipping on his beer continually since they walked over, raised a hand in silence.

  Gretchen took Lonnie’s hand in hers and shook it loosely and briefly before she dropped it. She wrung her hands together in her lap and looked around for Charlie. “Gretchen,” she said, distracted as she searched.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a rockin’ body, Gretch?” Lonnie asked unabashed.

  Her eyes opened wide to show the whites around her pupils before narrowing. She’d been told many times by similarly obnoxious men that she had a voluptuous, scrumptious, provocative body that wouldn’t quit. Those men were the reason she was open to trying a relationship with Charlie in the first place. When they met, Charlie didn’t make her feel like a pig being judged at the county fair.

  “Hello…” Gretchen heard her girlfriend’s voice from behind. “Who are you?” There was an edge to it that hadn’t been there when she left. She put her arm around Gretchen’s shoulder and reeled her in close. “They didn’t have Boston Lager. Only Summer Shanty. Sorry, babe.”

  “That’s OK,” Gretchen said quickly. She picked up her beer and held it to her mouth as long as she could, taking several large gulps. She didn’t want to talk to the boys anymore, but she also didn’t want to play into Charlie’s jealous tantrum either.

  “I told you this was a fag bar,” Lonnie said over his shoulder to his friend.

  The bored young man stood with his hand in his jeans pocket while the other held his beer. He looked just as out of place as Gretchen felt.

  “Yeah, it’s a gay bar, asshole, and you’re hitting on my gay girlfriend.” Charlie removed her hand from Gretchen and stood just inches from Lonnie, flat chest to flat chest.

  It was almost comical to watch. Charlie was five foot three and Lonnie only stood somewhere around five-ten, but he looked like a giant in comparison, towering over a small, angry elf.

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad, or is it boxers? I can never tell with you butch women,” Lonnie spat at her.

  Charlie held up her middle finger as he turned and walked away. His friend looked back with apologetic eyes. “Fucking assholes,” Charlie muttered after them.

  “Not talking about us are you?” an older Hispanic woman said as she strolled up to the table.

  Charlie’s face lit up. She wrapped her arms around the woman and squealed. “No, auntie, never you!”

  Salena Perez squeezed her niece tight to her. The two could have been twins, except Salena had longer, wavy black hair that fell in sheets down her back. Even though she was at least twenty years older than Charlie, she certainly didn’t look it. Her brown skin was smooth and firm to match the curves of her body.

  Gretchen had no idea how her partner had landed such a gorgeous girlfriend. Gale Lewis was the polar opposite of Salena. She had pale skin with rosy cheeks and her body looked like a pear. Her hair was cut in the same boyishly short style as Charlie’s, but hers was salted with gray and white. She wore loose khaki jeans, a denim button down shirt left open with a white t-shirt underneath, and generic tennis shoes. When she walked there was the slightest hint of a waddle as she bounced from side to side. She stood in the background like a lonely gnome on the lawn, keeping watch with her hands in her pockets.

  Gretchen gave them both a quick smile and then returned her attention to the half empty bottle of beer in front of her. The night couldn’t end fast enough.

  IX.

  Gretchen blinked a few times to clear the memories from her eyes, which were adjusting to the dimness of the evening. The sun sank down behind Lake Michigan, which changed from blue to various shades of oranges and yellows, as if the water itself were on fire.

  The group of wanderers waited on one of a mountainous sand dunes in the shade of scraggly, thin trees. They sat perched in the tall grass away from the rows of three-story houses on stilts that lined the lakefront.

  Gretchen made sure to keep her distance from the others as she cornered Gale alone. It was time Gretchen locked down her only, and possibly last, friend in the world.

  “We’ve met before, haven’t we?” she asked quietly so the others wouldn’t overhear.

  Gale laughed under her breath and nodded her head as she picked the grass out of the ground. She crumpled the strands between her fingers before she threw them back down. “Yeah, we have.”

  Excitement coursed through Gretchen. Her face lit up as she shifted from sitting on her butt to her knees. “I knew it!” she said louder than she intended.

  What little neck Lonnie had stretched out to get a look at the two women.

  Gretchen shut her lips tightly and stifled her laughter, which came out as a weird gasp caught deep in her throat.

  Lonnie turned back to the group.

  Rowan sat next to him with one leg tented and the other stretched out in the hot sand.

  Lee stood across from them while Mitchell sat Indian-style, his shotgun clenched in his pale, white hands.

  Carolyn leaned all the way back on her elbows, her tanned bare legs on display in her short jean shorts for whomever might want a good stare.

  Lonnie took the invitation multiple times with no shame. He licked his lips and eyed her barely covered body.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Gretchen whispered when she was sure no one was paying attention.

  “The same reason you didn’t.”

  Gretchen stared at her and waited for more of an explanation.

  “You’re not sure about these people. Just like I’m not sure about them either. You got Lonnie over here, fresh out of Army boot camp thinking he’s Sergeant Highway.”

  Gretchen’s face scrunched as she shook her head.

  “It’s a movie,” Gale said waving her hand. “Anyway, then there’s this Mitchell kid who has the eyes of a puppy who’s been kicked one too many times. So when we’re out there fighting these things off, we have to worry about one shooting us in the back.” She glared at Lonnie with narrowed eyes. Then, she nodded her head to Mitchell. “And one because he doesn’t know the first thing about handling a gun.”

  Gretchen hung on Gale’s every word. She nodded her head as her eyes begged the older woman to continue. Gale had only known the men two days longer than Gretchen, but with how fast the world fell apart, those two days were a lifetime. Her knowledge was valuable to survival.

  “Then, there’s pretty boy, Rowan,” Gale scoffed and broke out into a fit of quiet laughter. Her chin touched her chest as she rocked back and forth. “He’s got his head shov
ed so far up Lonnie’s ass I don’t know what to think of him…except he’s the biggest pussy I’ve ever met.” The laughter stopped and she looked at Gretchen with steel-gray, tired eyes. She sighed. “And Carolyn…she’s not much of a threat. Just looking for protection.”

  “And what about that guy?” Gretchen asked as she looked over her shoulder at the towering man standing watch over everyone else.

  “Who? Lee?” Gale laughed again, but with her head thrown back this time. “I wouldn’t worry about him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “How many men you know like that become male nurses because they’re deranged and dangerous?”

  They stared at each other for a good long time before they both broke out into muffled laughter.

  “Hey!” Lonnie hissed at them sharply. “Keep it down over there!”

  “Yes, sir, sorry, sir,” Gale said as she saluted.

  The two women chuckled with their heads together as Lonnie turned away and muttered a slew of curses under his breath. “Stupid, fucking, bitch-ass…”

  The giggling tapered off as Gretchen leaned back on her hands to look up at the black, cloudless sky. The stars flickered one by one and reminded her of where she grew up, which wasn’t too far from where they sat. She’d been to the very spot countless times in her life while hiking with her family, but all she could think of now was if she was going to make it to see daylight again or if the stars would be the last thing she saw in her life. It felt like she was on another strange planet, a dangerous and deadly one. Lonnie cleared his throat and shooed the thoughts from Gretchen’s worried mind.

  “OK,” Lonnie whispered, crouched on his feet with his gun poised. “Let’s head out.”

 

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