Dying Days [Book 9]

by Armand Rosamilia

  “Of course it is. It always was with me. You thought I’d changed but I never did. I just learned to hide the fucked up part of me better around you. I learned to play well with others but it was always a lie.” Tosha looked at April. “My only regret is not getting in your panties. I guess it’s something I’ll have to think about.”

  Mitch took a step forward.

  Tosha shook her head.

  “Let her go,” April said. She stared at Tosha. “Just be gone and never come near us. We will kill you.”

  “Fair enough.” Tosha turned and ran as fast as she could, dragging her leg behind and leaving a blood trail into the closest yard as the zombies got closer.

  “Let’s go help your sister,” Mitch said.

  Chapter Forty Three

  “Where’s everyone else?” Carlie grabbed April by the shoulders. “Where are mom and dad?”

  April shook her head and hugged her sister.

  Carlie tried to push away. “Seriously. Where the fuck are they?”

  “I’m so sorry. Dad couldn’t be moved. He made us leave him so it would give us a chance to escape.”

  Carlie stared past April, hoping to see her mother lagging behind. “Where’s mom? She wasn’t hurt.”

  “She wouldn’t leave him. In the end... “ April started to cry. “I’m so sorry. They wouldn’t listen to me. They’re so stubborn.”

  “Hey, guys. I’m Tito. Welcome to our humble abode. I see you brought some friends with you. The undead kind.”

  Mitch laughed. “I don’t suppose you have a locker filled with high-powered weapons we can borrow?”

  “I have something better. A distraction so those who are so inclined can escape. I have it on good authority our former zombie captor had a sailboat hidden in a cove in the river. It can’t be too far from here,” Tito said.

  Carlie shook her head. “Stop talking crazy. We’re all getting away.”

  “Is there really a boat?” April asked.

  Tito nodded. “We used to talk about it in the beginning. Before he went really crazy and started doing odd things like starving us. He talked about figuring out which of us would make a good crew. He wanted to sail around the world and take parts of it for himself.”

  “How much time do we have until they come?” Carlie asked.

  Mitch looked down the road. “Maybe half an hour, if we’re quiet.”

  “You weren’t very quiet. I heard a lot of gunshots. It helped get everyone out into the street that could walk but there are dozens of people unable to move, even once I got the chains off them. They can’t be moved,” Carlie said.

  “Where are all the people now? In different houses or one location?” April asked.

  She couldn’t look at her sister. She’d either punch her in the face for leaving their parents behind or cry because they were gone.

  “I got them to three houses but it wasn’t easy.” Carlie pointed out where the people were staying. “I doubt I can move any of them again. I chose the places where the most people who couldn’t move were staged.”

  “Those people are going to help you escape,” Tito said. He pointed at his chest. “I’m going to lead the band. By my count you can save eighteen people. That’s a lot of people. If everyone grabs a box or a bag of supplies, it should fill the sailboat. Give you a chance to survive. Sail away into the sunset.”

  “No one is getting left behind,” April said.

  Mitch guided Carlie away a few feet. “Is there any chance these people could be moved? What if we had a vehicle or something with wheels?”

  Carlie shook her head. “They are really close to death. This could be their dying day. They’ve been starved and beaten. The older ones weren’t doing so well to begin with. My guess is about sixty percent of the ones chained to the walls were dead when I arrived. Tito is right. It would be eighteen and that includes you, me and my sister.”

  “I saw a drum set in the third house on the left. Would you be a dear and get it for me?” Tito asked April.

  Carlie shook her head. “What are you doing?”

  Tito smiled. “It’s fine. I already talked it over with a few people. They’d rather go out happy than die trying to walk ten feet down the block. It’s too damn hot out, too. How long do you think they’ll last? Not long. Be a dear and get the drums, please and thank you.”

  “This is insane,” Carlie said.

  “What if there really is a boat?” Mitch asked.

  Carlie looked down the block. They didn’t have time to run down and check it out and get back before the zombies arrived.

  “Fine. I’ll get it myself.” Tito started to hobble down the street.

  “I’ll get the drums. Be right back.” Mitch pointed at April. “You two decide what we’re doing. I’m in whether we stay and fight and die or we take those healthy enough to walk and try for a boat we don’t even know is real.”

  “Oh, it’s real. I’ve seen it.” Tito smiled. “Go to the end of the block, due west, and cut through the yard with the giant stupid-looking red sculpture. Fancy rich people crap. Anyway, the boat is right there but hidden behind a little peninsula of trees and overgrown weeds.”

  “I’m going to start getting as many people as I can heading in that direction,” Carlie said.

  “I’ll help.” April went to the next house.

  “Hey, everyone. We’re going on a boat ride.” Carlie put on a big smile. She needed everyone on the same page right now and knew it would take forever to get these people down the street. Some would be slower than the zombies.

  Most of the people were moving towards the door and helping one another.

  “Take a box or even just a can or two of food. We need to get as much of this to the sailboat with us as we can,” Carlie said.

  As a group they headed down the driveway.

  Carlie passed Mitch, carrying the drum set. She shook her head.

  April was at the next house but she only had six or seven people shuffling out.

  This will take us forever. It’s not going to work, Carlie thought.

  “Are there any weapons and ammo?” Mitch asked.

  “Yes. With the rest of the boxes.” Carlie tapped the handgun tucked into her jeans. “I have two extra clips, too.”

  Carlie watched Mitch go to the boxes and grab the shotgun and shells, as well as pick up one of the boxes of food. They’d have to leave some things behind.

  “I’m going to run ahead. I’ll meet you at the sailboat. If it isn’t there or there’s trouble, I’ll shoot a single round into the air,” Mitch said.

  Carlie waved at Tito, who was setting up in the middle of the street. He smiled and waved a drumstick.

  “Who likes jazz? I’m going to play a few selections. Crawl out and take a seat on the lawn if you can. We’re going to have ourselves a last concert,” Tito said loudly and played a drum roll. “I haven’t played in too many years.”

  The survivors were shuffling down the street, most holding onto one or two others as they shuffled along.

  Carlie could see Mitch disappear up ahead.

  April had gotten everyone she could out of the other houses and when Carlie counted heads she smiled. Tito was right. Eighteen people would make this trip.

  Carlie took the rear guard, making sure no one fell behind.

  Tito was into his drumming now.

  A few people were trying to get outside but it wasn’t many.

  They’ll all die soon, she thought. We’ve left more people to the zombies. When will this end?

  Carlie was getting impatient because the group moved so slowly.

  April fell back and walked next to Carlie in silence for a few minutes.

  Neither sister could look at the other.

  “Did they suffer?” Carlie finally asked.

  “They went out like heroes. Dad with his wisecracks and mom got to shoot him like she always threatened.” April laughed and cried at the same time. “I know the zombies didn’t get them.”

  Tito was into
a drum solo down the street behind them, going faster and faster.

  Carlie and April looked back to see the horde of zombies filtering in from all sides, all going towards the sound of Tito, who put his head down and kept playing until they forced him to stop.

  They managed to get everyone down the street, past the gaudy sculpture and into an overgrown yard.

  Carlie didn’t see a boat and felt herself panic.

  There would be nowhere to go. All of these people would die.

  “Over here,” Mitch yelled and waved.

  The boat was hidden behind a boathouse and trees, shielding it from the water on two sides.

  Everyone noticeably picked up the pace.

  “It’s fully stocked. Canned food and water. Full tank of gas. Extra gas cans, too. Enough to get us to an island. How does Haiti sound?” Mitch asked.

  Carlie laughed. “You’ve never heard of Haitian zombies?”

  Chapter Forty Four

  Darlene had nothing left in the reserves. Her tank was nearing empty. She’d used too much energy rushing to the diner, trying to beat her son to get into position and see what tricks he had up his sleeve.

  He was already there.

  I’ve taken the liberty of cleaning up this mess. I’d hate for someone to trip over broken furniture and twist an ankle.

  The diner had been excised of everything including some of the paint on the walls. It didn’t look like it had just happened seconds ago, either. Dust had started to collect on the windowsills and in the corners.

  “This is where you’ve been hiding this entire time.” Darlene laughed and walked to the center of the room.

  Most of it. I visited a few old friends. Made sure some of the zombies were doing what they were supposed to do.

  “You still chasing around the survivors? That’ll cost you some power you can’t really afford to lose, especially once you feel what I’m about to do to you,” Darlene said.

  She pointed at the floor. “You did a thorough job of cleaning. I’m impressed. I’ve never been much of a homemaker. By the time I met your father, there wasn’t much to clean. But…” Darlene knelt down. “I can still see the faint traces of your blood. See? This is where I gave birth to you. This is the spot where you came into the world.”

  Darlene produced a thick black marker in her hand.

  “It is only fitting this spot will be your final resting place.” She drew a circle on the ground and stood, tossing the marker into the air, where it disappeared.

  Your parlor tricks are supposed to impress or frighten me, mother? Please. You wanted to fight. Here I am. Fight me already.

  “Suddenly you’re so impatient to do this? I smell a rat.” Darlene looked at her son.

  Really looked at him.

  She laughed. “It’s an illusion. Very weak. Where are you really hiding? Are you in the bathroom? Do you need me to change your diaper?”

  Her son smiled and blinked out of existence.

  The bathroom door opened.

  Very perceptive, mother.

  John Murphy stepped out, smiling.

  Darlene sighed. “Is this how you really want to play this? It feels desperate. You think I won’t kill you if you’re pretending to be your father? In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve killed him already.”

  You like to bury your enemies. I liked that move. Like burying your problems. You know I found grandfather, right?

  Darlene wanted to charge him but she knew it was a trap. He was up to something and she felt like any act of aggression would be a bad one.

  Of course, grandpa had been shot in the head and left to rot many, many months ago. By his own daughter with the Desert Eagle he gave her. Her son pointed at Darlene. The one you still carry at your side, even though you have so many weapons at your disposal to make it obsolete.

  “It was a gift,” Darlene said simply.

  There was a lot of love in this family before I was conceived. You ever wish I’d never been born? Be honest with me, mommy. I can take it. We’re all adults here now.

  Darlene took a step forward. Her son kept his ground but she could see an odd emotion pass across his face: a hint of fear.

  “You’ve evolved more than I have. More than the others outside have.” Darlene smiled. “And it’s killing you. Literally.”

  You don’t know what you’re talking about.

  “Yes, I do. I can also read thoughts. You forget. It’s why you’re so angry all the time. I’ve evolved to the perfect point, where emotions are still present but they don’t control me. You’re like a pregnant woman cycling through all of it every minute, you little bitch.” Darlene laughed. “You over-evolved.”

  I am the ultimate evolutionary machine.

  “God played the ultimate joke on you. He let you run wild with your powers and you did it. Without thinking of the balance. Without worrying about hitting the limit. The wall. In the end, you’re as human as everyone else. Your greed pushed you to the limit and then over the cliff.” Darlene took another step forward. “All this time I thought you were throwing zombies and obstacles at me because you wanted to even the playing field. Take my power down a few notches so we’d be equal. Now I see what is really happening.”

  You’re wrong. I could destroy you with a snap of my finger.

  Darlene shook her head. “Your actual power is ineffective against me. You could spend the next year dragging every monster in the world at me but you know you’re only living on borrowed time.”

  Her son put up his hand and she could feel an itch in the back of her head but she quickly pushed it away. He’d tried to use his now-meager power to mess with her thoughts.

  Make her think he could kill her.

  Darlene flew across the room and smacked him across the mouth, knocking her son to the ground.

  He tried to rise but she put a foot on his shoulder.

  “Before I kill you, I need to do one last thing,” Darlene said. “Why did you meet with me? You could’ve used your powers to keep hiding. You could’ve traveled to Asia to amass a huge army of zombies. There were a hundred options available to you.”

  You act like we have free will. Like the humans ever had a chance to survive for generations. In the end, I was a puppet just like them. Just like you. He glanced at the ceiling. We serve His amusement.

  “So be it. At least I know what side of His I’m on. I guess you really do, too. The short end of the stick,” Darlene said and used the last of her power to shoot an invisible wave of energy in all directions to cover the planet.

  To cut down every zombie in the world.

  “I don’t need superpowers to defeat you, son.” She pulled her Desert Eagle and aimed it at his head. “You can still die like everyone else. I see it now. Your evolution took you full circle. You’re more flesh and blood. Aren’t you?”

  “Don’t kill me,” he said and he sounded like a little kid.

  Darlene knew she didn’t have much time to live before her essence would be gone. Without a reserve of her power, she couldn’t last more than a few hours and she had no idea how to recharge quickly enough.

  It was worth the sacrifice to save humanity, she decided.

  Darlene knew she’d done the right thing. Even defeating her son without anything else would mean the zombies would win.

  They’d eventually all evolve and enslave mankind.

  At least now any survivors across the world had a chance to rebuild and make a better world.

  Her son smiled and put his head against the gun. Pull the trigger. Kill me, mommy. It doesn’t matter. While you were giving me your big speech I used the absolute last of my energy, too. Guess what? I couldn’t do exactly what I wanted but I’ve changed the course of history. Of this world. In the end, everything you did for the human race won’t matter.

  “What did you do?”

  I wanted to blow up the world. Literally watch it explode, killing all of us. Instead, I’ve done something worse, long-term. He grinned and pushed against the Desert Eagle.


  “Tell me what you’ve done.”

  In the end, I became human again. Hateful. Spiteful. Egotistical. If I can’t have the world, no one can. This way will just take longer to get to the end. You’ll see. Do you feel the shift?

  “What does that mean?”

  It means I’ve moved the earth. Goodbye, mommy. I’d say I loved you and you were a good mommy but that would be such a lie. You taught me better, right?

  Darlene pulled the trigger.

  Armand Rosamilia is a New Jersey boy currently living in sunny Florida, where he writes when he's not sleeping.

  He's written over 100 stories that are currently available, including a few different series.

  he also loves to talk in third person... because he's really that cool.

  You can find him at http://armandrosamilia.com for not only his latest releases but interviews and guest posts with other authors he likes!

  and e-mail him to talk about zombies, baseball and Metal:

  armandrosamilia@gmail.com