He chuckled. “No problem, yo.”
“Dad?” Brett appeared at Jack’s side.
He turned and saw tears running down his son’s face. The victory he’d shared with Doug over the fiery zombie destruction evaporated in an instant. “What’s wrong?” Jack drew him into his arms.
“Sissy’s turning into a zombie,” he said in a choked voice.
Brett hadn’t called his sister Sissy since he was four years old. Hearing him do so now caused Jack to jump to his feet. He rushed toward the open passenger door while pushing back the image of one of his kids becoming a zombie. It would be more than he could bear.
He reached the cab and found Kate sitting next to their daughter. Kerri’s injured hand was wrapped in a makeshift bandage torn from Kate’s dress. His daughter had her head leaned back and her eyes closed, which reminded him of dead Martha sitting in the old man’s truck earlier in the day. Jack swallowed hard, trying to fight back his fear.
“How’s she doing?” he said.
“Not good. I wrapped her hand the best I could, but she feels so cold.” Kate looked up at him with teary eyes. “Oh, God, Jack, what are we going to do?”
“Is she … becoming a … zombie?” Brett said behind him, with sadness breaking his voice.
“I don’t know, son,” Jack said. “Kate, let me examine her.”
She got out of the truck and Jack climbed in beside Kerri, who looked ghostly pale in the dim light. He checked her vitals and found that her pulse was slow but steady.
Kerri’s eyes opened upon his touch. “Dad?”
“I’m here, baby.”
“Why am I so c-c-cold?” She said through chattering teeth.
“You’ve been through a lot. Just be still and take it easy, baby.”
“If I become a zombie, are you going to shoot me, t-t-too?” Her glazed blue eyes looked deep into his.
“Don’t say things like that,” he answered, knowing the truth in his soul. Jack prayed with every fiber of his being that it wouldn’t come to that. “Whatever happens, I will always love you.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘y-y-yes.’ ” She closed her eyes again.
“Lay back and rest, baby.” He kissed her clammy forehead.
“How bad is it?” Kate said in a low voice over his shoulder.
“I think it’s just shock.” He bundled Kerri’s jacket tighter. “Keep her warm and her feet elevated.”
“Is she going to be a zombie?” Brett said from behind his mother.
“I don’t think so.” Jack removed himself from the truck to allow Kate back in. “This isn’t the movies, son. Whatever created the zombies isn’t a virus. It might not be transmittable by a bite; at least I don’t think so. The wound is still dangerous. It’s bleeding badly and needs to be cleaned with antiseptic. The human bite is very infectious, and I can only guess about a zombie bite.” He turned to Doug. “How far is your grandfather’s farm?”
“Three miles east of here.”
“We need to get there—” Jack stopped upon hearing the sound of a vehicle’s exhaust pipes heading in their direction. “Someone’s coming down the road.”
“Sounds like a Harley,” Doug said.
“Give me the pistol.” Jack held out his hand. “Everybody else get in the truck.”
“Are you expecting trouble?” Doug handed over the .38.
“I expect anything at this point.” He slipped the weapon into the waist of his jeans and covered it with his shirt. “You just keep the truck running.”
Jack leaned against the front grill and waited while the others climbed into the pickup. A few seconds later, a Harley-Davidson motorcycle thundered over a hill and the rider jumped a large chunk of broken asphalt before skidding to a stop in front of the truck. Clad in dark leather jacket, pants, and riding boots, the rider kicked down the stand and slid up a pair of motorcycle goggles. Jack was shocked to discover it was a woman with windswept dark brown hair and eyes of the same color. Dried bloodstains covered her hands and sleeves. She unzipped the front of her jacket to reveal a white tank top over an ample bust line.
“Hi,” Jack said, knowing how awkward it sounded.
She nodded and looked down the road at the burning remains of Cobb’s Corner. “Damn it. I was trying to reach the station to get some gas. The bike’s running on fumes.”
“We just blew it up along with a shitload of zombies,” Doug announced through the open driver’s window.
“That’s just great.” She eased one long leg over the tank and stood up. “You don’t happen to have any gas I can borrow, do you?”
“No,” Jack said. “None we can spare.”
Her dark eyes looked down at his waist and then met his with a determined gaze. “What’re you planning to do with that gun under your shirt?”
“That depends on you.”
She leaned back against the Harley, reached into her jacket, and removed a cigarillo. After striking a match against the sole of her riding boot, she lighted the end. “I just need some gas and I’ll be on my way. I don’t want any trouble. It looks like you’ve had enough trouble this morning.”
“The same could be said for you.” Jack pointed at her bloody jacket sleeves.
With the cigarillo hanging out of her lips, she examined her bloodstained hands. “Yeah, you can say that. I was out riding with my old man when the quake hit. I ended up in a ditch and he did a face plant into a tree trunk. I rushed to him thinking he was badly injured or dead. He had no pulse. The next thing I know, he sits up and starts grabbing for me. Only he doesn’t look right. He’s all zombified, with white eyes and blood gurgling out of his mouth.” She took a long pull on the cigarillo and released a cloud of smoke. “I bashed in his brains with a chunk of asphalt.”
“Sounds like the same day I’ve been having,” Jack said.
“Yeah,” she said with a chuckle, “I told the abusive bastard that the next time he laid hands on me I’d kill him. I just didn’t think he’d be a zombie when I did it.” She stubbed out her cigarillo on her boot sole. “I’d better smoke these slow. I don’t know when I’ll find more.” She showed a white smile through the grime on her face. “The name’s Telia Mason.”
“Jack Garrett.”
She glanced toward the cab of the pickup. “Is that your family?”
“All except for the kid driving. We just met him back at the station. I have my wife, daughter, and son with me. I’d love to stand around and chat, but we have to get going. My daughter needs medical attention.”
“I understand. What about that gas?”
“We can give her what we’ve got in the chain saw,” Doug said.
Jack shook his head. “Then we’d be down one weapon, and it wouldn’t get her very far anyway.” He turned to Telia. “You’re welcome to come with us. We’re headed to a farm a few miles from here. It’s the best I can offer.”
“You must be a pretty tough group, because you’re the only live people I’ve seen since the quake. Everyone else was walking corpses or being eaten by them.” She turned and looked at the Harley. “Okay, I don’t like it, but I’ll leave the bike here. The loud pipes were attracting every zombie in the county anyway. I’ll get it later.”
“Then you ride in the back with me.”
“All right.”
They climbed into the pickup bed, with Jack taking one wheel hub and Telia taking the other. Doug started the engine, ground the first gear, and took off down the highway. After a half-mile, he turned down a stretch of gravel road and headed east.
“What’s wrong with your daughter?” Telia said, breaking the tense silence. “You said she needed medical attention.”
“She got bit on the hand.”
Her dark eyes turned stone cold. “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ve seen enough zombie movies. If she’s been bitten by one, doesn’t that mean she’s going to be a zombie, too?”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t think so. Nothing I’ve seen indicates we’re up again
st a zombie-creating virus. A disease certainly didn’t cause an earthquake or darken the sky. My wife thinks it’s Judgment Day and the Second Coming of Christ.”
Telia laughed. “It’s Judgment Day, all right, because God judged the world was a piece of shit and flushed it down the crapper. We’re basically screwed.”
“Right now I’m just trying to find someplace safe.”
She nodded toward the far horizon. “I was looking for that long before this morning.”
CHAPTER NINE
Doug drove slowly, zigzagging to avoid the cracks and potholes in the broken country road. Luckily, there were no fallen trees or telephone poles to further heed their progress. From his position in the truck bed, Jack watched the devastated countryside pass slowly by and was reminded of the damage a massive tornado had done to Joplin, Missouri, a few years back. The only difference was that this destruction wasn’t limited to a small area but stretched across the landscape for miles. They drove past a huge pile of broken wood that had obviously been a large barn until today. Dead cattle littered the ground around the collapsed building.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Telia said. “How everything can be so screwed up in the blink of an eye.”
“It’s safe to say I had no idea the world would end in a zombie apocalypse today,” Jack said, looking out over the ravaged landscape. “It’s just freaking weird.”
“What is?”
“Isn’t it odd the media had such an interest in zombies over the last few years? Movies, television, books, you name it. Then the damned things come true. It makes me think that somehow our culture was self-prophesying its own doom. Like we all had some sort of mass collective unconscious about what waited in our future and didn’t even know it. One thing’s for certain—we’re lucky to be alive.”
“You’re right. It’s strange, but are we the lucky ones? Who knows what shit awaits us in the days ahead.”
“It’s going to be hell, that’s for sure. We have to find food, water, and shelter soon. The darkened sky tells me the environment is screwed up, too. Vegetation will die unless the sun comes back out. Throw in aftershocks and hordes of zombies trying to eat us and it all adds up to a real slim chance for survival.”
“You sure know how to piss on a girl’s day.”
“Just keeping it real, yo,” he said, chuckling.
“I appreciate a man who speaks the truth. Few do. Since we’re being so straightforward with each other, will you promise me something?”
“What?”
“If I don’t happen to survive this apocalypse thing, will you shoot me in the head? Don’t let me be a walking corpse. That would be a fate worse than death, if you’ll pardon the pun. If I’m dead, I want it to be for good. None of this walking-around-and-trying-to-eat-people bullshit. If I turn into one of them, put me out of my misery. Will you do it for me?”
Jack looked into her dark brown eyes. There was an edge there that told him she had lived a hard life. “If it comes to that,” he said.
“Thanks, man,” She glanced toward the cab. “I promise I won’t hesitate to do the same for you. Now, are you prepared to face that decision with another person?”
“My daughter?”
“If she turns”—Telia paused as if to search for the right words—“what are you prepared to do? I need to know what I’ll be up against if that happens.”
Jack looked through the back window toward Kate, who was holding Kerri in her arms. Their eyes locked for a second. He saw the concern in her face and knew it meant they needed to get to the farm quick. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Very well,” Telia said. “Your wife is pretty, by the way. How long have you been married?”
“Sixteen years.”
Telia laughed. “I was engaged once and that’s about it. I’ve been single so long I finally gave up on the dream. My lot in life is to be attracted to tattooed men with bad attitudes. The sex is good, but when it comes to marriage, they suck.”
“Marriage can suck sometimes, too. It hasn’t always been easy for us, believe me. The trick is sticking with it through whatever the world throws at you.”
“Even when the world ends?”
“Especially then.”
“I could never find a man who thought like that.” She looked at the far horizon. “Do you really think it’s the end for us all?”
“All we know is that it’s a huge cataclysmic disaster. How far it extends, I don’t have a clue. Like I told my daughter, it could be regional, national, or international. Personal survival is what we have to remain focused on.”
“So we’re driving to someone’s farm?”
Jack nodded. “It’s owned by the grandfather of the kid driving. I’m not from Oklahoma, so I’m unfamiliar with this part of the country. It sounded like the best option to me. Once we get safely settled at the farm, we can decide the best course of action.”
Telia pulled a cigarillo from her jacket. “You got a light? I used my last match.”
He slipped out the Bic he’d taken from the old man’s truck and flicked the flame. “Here you go.”
She leaned in and lighted the end. “What did you do before the world turned to zombie hell?”
“I was a dentist with a practice in St. Louis.”
“Really? So, what brought you to this part of the country?”
“A vacation.”
“In northern Oklahoma? Not my idea of a vacation spot.” She settled back and puffed on the smoke. “Even before the apocalypse.”
“We were originally headed for Phoenix today when my wife came up with the brilliant idea to visit the grave of her great-great-grandmother. We were in the graveyard when the shit hit the fan.”
“So you saw the dead rise?”
“Yeah. About a dozen came right out of the graves. We barely escaped.”
“You’re lucky. After dealing with my zombie old man, I knew the bike needed gas, so I drove to a travel plaza on I-35 over by Blackwell. The place was swarming with zombies. There must have been a couple hundred, at least. They were feeding on the people trapped inside. Their screams were terrible, but there was nothing I could do, so I rode out of there fast.” The truck slowed to a halt and Telia quickly put out her smoke. “What now?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned into the open driver’s window. “What’s up?” he asked Doug.
“Look over there.” He nodded to the left, and Jack followed his gaze. A small one-story farmhouse stood fifty yards off the road in the shadow of tall elm trees. The place had suffered quake damage, and a fallen tree had collapsed a section of the roof. Gray smoke drifted out of the hole. “It’s the Cooper farm.”
“What about it?”
“The Coopers are good friends of my granddad. The reason I stopped was there’s someone standing in the front door.”
Jack studied the house. A large figure filled the open door, but it was impossible to discern any features.
“Who is it?” he said.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Frank Cooper,” Doug said. “He’s a big guy and lives there with his wife and four children.”
“Let me take a look.” Jack brought up his binoculars and focused the lens. The blurry image sharpened to show a large man dressed in a long-sleeve plaid shirt. Fresh blood soaked the shirt front, and the man’s mouth opened wide to spill out more bloody gore.
“Damn it,” Jack said. “He’s a zombie!”
As if he had heard, Frank Cooper staggered out the door and bellowed an ungodly moan. A dozen more zombies—children and adults—emerged from the house to follow his lead. The fresh blood on their clothes and faces meant they had recently fed. The mob shambled toward the truck.
“Is this shit ever going to end?” Jack slammed his fist on the cab roof.
“Should I back up or keep going?” Doug said.
“Drive on as fast as you can.”
“The road’s pretty rough up ahead, yo. I won’t be able to outrun them without taking the risk of getting s
tuck in a hole.”
“Do your best. We’ll have to fight them off from back here.”
“All righty then,” he said and ground the truck into gear.
Jack turned to Telia, who had already picked up the chain saw.
“Party time.” She smiled and yanked the pull cord of the Husqvarna. “And I do love a good party.”
“Keep your mouth shut,” he said.
“I broke a beer bottle over the head of the last man who said that to me.”
Jack chuckled. “I meant you need to keep your mouth closed while you’re using the chain saw unless you like the taste of zombie gore. Believe me, I know.”
“Yum,” she said. “Okay, that’s an important rule when chain-sawing zombies. Keep your yap shut.”
“You got it. They’re coming up on my side.” He pulled the .38 pistol from his waistband. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” She hefted the chain saw and revved the motor.
Doug continued driving past the Cooper farm, but not quickly enough to avoid the zombie mob. Jack took a firing stance, with the pistol aimed at the largest target in the group: the undead Frank Cooper in his bloody plaid shirt. Suddenly, the vehicle lurched to the right and nearly pitched him out of the bed. He grabbed the side to keep from going over, and the .38 slipped out of his hands to land in the road below. Telia fell against him, and they ended up tangled together with the idling chain saw inches from his face.
“Careful with that thing,” Jack said, helping her regain her balance. “I’ll stick with shaving with my razor, thank you.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Truck’s stuck!” Doug shouted from the cab.
Jack rushed to look over the tailgate. One of the tires had dropped into a deep pothole.
“Give it some gas,” he yelled back.
“Okay.”
Throwing a swath of dirt, the tire whined but remained trapped. Jack looked back toward the approaching zombies. They were nearly across the yard and would reach them in another minute.
“I’ll have to push you out!” He slid over the tailgate, picked up the dropped pistol, and braced himself against the bumper. “Gun it!”
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