Zombies! Rising from the Dead

by Richard Palmer

  I won’t forget the day it happened, I remember it so clearly. Looking back I had no idea what was happening even as we enjoyed a lazy afternoon.

  It was a warm, dry summer day at the end of May. I was thrilled because it had finally stopped raining the day before and warmed up. I hated the rain and the cold, damp air. I had a problem with stress as it was, and cold dreary weather only made it worse. But I was very happy on this particular day because it looked as though something we had planned on for several weeks now was finally going to work out.

  We had planned this day for a while. It was simply a matter of everyone's schedule lining up so that we could all get together. Rick, Amanda and Frankie and his wife were all going to come over that day and have an old fashioned pool party. We were going to grill out

  and lounge by the pool, watch some baseball and just have a big time outdoors. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, no busy city streets, no malls or shopping centers and most of all no jobs to rush off to, just a warm quiet day at home with good friends and good food, and I was very much looking forward to it.

  Being the hermit that I was, I was very particular about who I hanged out with, but a select few had earned a place of tolerance in my heart, and those very select few I not only tolerated but cared for quite deeply.

  Frankie and the rest of the girls weren't due over for a few hours yet. Rick, my best friend, had called to inform me in his own unique style that he was coming over to help get things ready. “I'm coming over....” that was his unique way . . . simple, direct and to the point. No room for debate.

  I was off for three days and because of that I was in a particularly good mood. Rick was on what he called a “long-break” which was a full week off before he had to go back to work essentially getting a week’s vacation every month). It was one of the many perks working for a unionized factory, in this case a large paper mill nestled right outside Barkley.

  I had just finished cleaning up the pool when Rick came walking down the hill around to the back patio. His timing was perfect as I was just getting ready to run into town to go to the

  store to pick up some necessary supplies for our gathering.

  “Hey man, what’s up!” he said as he waved his arm and greeted me.

  “Oh, hey,” I brushed the sweat from my forehead. “Nothing much just trying to get things cleaned and presentable, I gotta run up to the store you wanna go?” I asked.

  “Sure man, no problem.” We piled in my truck and off we went.

  Along the way we caught up on all the news and what each of us had been up to, but nothing of particular consequence, just the usual fence post gossip.

  We needed some last minute items and had no option other than going to Mark’s Grocery, our town’s only grocery store. It was a pretty simple affair but also very expensive. The old place had been there for years, much like everything else in Barkley. The building itself had to be at least a hundred years old and it showed; gray buckled floor tiles and nasty, white drop-ceiling panels which were yellowed and stained by years of roof leaks, leaks which were not so much a matter of simple disrepair but more so outright neglect.

  Sitting high atop the hill Mark's could be seen from all over town like the lighthouses of old sitting high atop step cliffs providing a beacon to wayward ships in the night, and if nothing else Mark's was a familiar sight.

  We drove up the hill and parked in the first available parking spot we found. We approached the entrance, pushing the doors inward, the cool air and smell of produce blasting us in the face, we pulled a shopping cart out of the stall and shopped the aisles trying to determine what we needed for the day’s events. Wandering through we picked up all the usual items paper cups, chips, charcoal, hamburger and hot dog buns as well as several two-liters of soda, all while the squeaky, rusty wheels of the cart clacking against the cold

  ceramic tile...we even picked up a small bag of fireworks that we had found sitting haphazardly on one of the end isles; all the basics you needed for a little get together.

  We made our way to the check out where Lisa, a girl from our old high school days was hurriedly checking people out. Lisa was a prime example of how the twists and turns of life can lead us in strange directions. Back in high school she was cream of the crop, skinny, attractive and part of the in-crowd. Fifteen years ago she wouldn't have given Rick or I the time of day, and it was just assumed that after high school she would go on to do great things. As fate (as well as two ex-husbands and three kids later) would have it she found herself living back in Barkley working for minimum wage at Mark's. We talked to her for a while about old times. She bagged up our purchases, it was clear that she was more than a bit embarrassed and humbled that now years later the tables had turned, and she was now having to wait on two people that years previously she didn't even know existed.

  Rick and I harbored no ill will towards Lisa and we even took the time to invite her out to join us for the festivities. She managed a smile and told us she would certainly think about it.We both knew that she wouldn't show up but it was still a nice gesture to make the offer.

  After gathering our goods and saying goodbye to Lisa we loaded up the truck and headed back to the house, along the way discussing how Lisa had fared and being grateful that we had somehow managed to do okay for ourselves, either by the grace of God or sheer dumb luck.

  We shortly arrived back home and started preparing. The sky was as clear and blue as you could ask, with sparse cumulus clouds providing random shade from time to time and a light breeze just strong enough to provide relief from the glaring eye of the mid-morning sun. The door on the back patio was propped open and the big screen television was blaring in the background. Outside we had a portable radio going as well to keep us motivated while we worked. Rick started setting up the table by throwing one of those cheap, crappy red and white stripped plastic tablecloths over it. He sat all the food and drinks out, the first step in the preparation of the feast and festivities that awaited. Meanwhile, I swept down the patio and

  dragged out a bulky, Styrofoam cooler. We loaded the cooler down with bags of ice and packed it with drinks so they would be chilled by the time our guests arrived, it was going to be a great day!

  Around one o' clock things started to get going. It was just beginning to get hot which made the crystal clear water in the pool look all that more refreshing. The radio was blaring and the grill was primed, and just hot enough that you could smell the slight, familiar hint of charcoal starter and burning coals. With everything prepared, and nothing much more we could do till everyone showed, Rick and I sat in the lounge chairs that we had pulled under the shade of a tree and we enjoyed a cold beer, only the first of many that would be enjoyed that day.

  Rick's girl showed up first . . . Amanda. Amanda had curly jet black hair, fair skin with light freckles dotting her rosy cheeks, and she wore thick, dark rimmed glasses which looked somewhat out of sorts on her petite face yet gave her an attractive, brainy appearance; which for her worked quite effectively. Amanda and Rick had been dating for a good three years now and was a fine little catch.

  Amanda, based on what Rick and told me, had a liver transplant as a child and she very nearly died. He said she had to take a variety of pills every day to keep her immune system up while at the same time preventing rejection. We counted them once, while she was away at work, curiosity getting the better of us, and we counted no less than twelve different medications. I never questioned what they all did, after all what business of mine was it? It was probably a sensitive subject anyway and best to leave it alone.

  Amanda came over, throwing her things down on the lawn furniture and gave Rick a huge hug, exhaling deeply.

  “Hey Bruce, how are you?” she asked with a big smile on her face as she walked over.

  “Doin' good, doin' good . . . pull up a chair...” I said, motioning with my hand to the empty chair next to us.

  Amanda grabbed a drink from the cooler and joined us under the tree. We sat around the pool sippin
g on drinks and talking about the events of the day. We relaxed while we waited for everyone else to arrive.

  I started grilling in anticipation that the rest of the party would arrive at any moment. We sat there soaking up the warmth and the sun with the smell of the freshly grilling meats filling our noses. As we relaxed the announcer came over the radio with a quick two minute recap, recounting the current temperature and local news events. Among the news there was mention of a small meteorite impacting an island somewhere in the South Pacific, wreaking havoc on the region. It was an interesting occurrence to be sure and our ears were averted for a time. It became quite the topic of conversation for a good while; but after twenty or thirty minutes it was largely forgotten and we continued on with our day.

  Frankie and his wife arrived at about three; his timing was excellent as I was just getting the first batch of hamburgers and hotdogs off the grill. Everything looked great and seemingly cooked to perfection indicated by the familiar, intersecting sear marks crisscrossing the meats, just like in the TV commercials!

  By now it was getting quite hot, I imagined it to be somewhere in the mid-nineties, and standing over a hot grill made it feel absolutely unbearable. I was the unofficial master chef, which was perfectly fine with me after all it was my house. However it didn't stop Rick and Frankie from randomly going over to “inspect” my work from time to time. I enjoyed grilling out in the summer time!

  After settling in everyone sat around the pool. The girls talked about whatever girls talk about, from time to time laughing and giggling about something; you know how girls are. Rick, Frankie and I talked about all the usual stuff which usually involved girls, movies, or the latest gadget.

  After a few trips back and forth to the grill I jumped in the pool to cool off. The sudden shift in temperature sent goose bumps across my body, and for a split second I was frozen inplace as the shock of the cool water hitting my warm skin sent ripples up and down my spine. The heat and soot from the grill washed away and I was left feeling rejuvenated. Everyone else joined in, eating and periodically taking dips in the pool throughout the day. Later we even shot off a few fireworks here and there to break up the action.

  I'm not sure who it was that came up with the idea to go in the yard and toss around the baseball, perhaps Frankie, but we all thought it was a good idea. Leaving the girls gossiping on the patio Rick, Frankie and I went into the house and up the stairs to find all the old baseball garb. In one of the back bedrooms that was seldom used I had stashed the old baseball equipment, hadn't thought about it or used it in years but I knew it was there. I had a scuffed up catcher’s mitt, a yellow, faded baseball and my trusty old Louisville Slugger. We gathered up the equipment from the closet where it had been collecting dust patiently waiting for the day when it would be needed again.

  The back yard was just unused farmland, perfect for a makeshift ball field. We all ran out onto the field and took our spots. I'm not sure how it was decided who did what first, but Frankie ended up batting . . . with Rick on the pitcher’s mound, it was a very amusing sight.

  Frankie walked up and took a few practice swings and then pointed to far left field in the best Babe Ruth impersonation he could muster.

  “Hey bata', bata’!' Hey, bata,'” he chanted in a very comical tone.

  Rick, “Mr. Baseball” , tried to be all serious about it even though he hadn't thrown a ball in at least ten years.

  He heckled Frankie as he yelled “Ssttteeerrriiiiiiiiikkkeeeee!!!”

  Rick tossed out a pitch that was nothing less than comical. The ball didn’t even get close to the pitcher’s mound, veering off and damned near hitting Frankie in the side. Frankie put the bat down, looked at where the ball landed, and then looked at Rick. He did a double-take to rub it in.

  “What the hell was that?!” he yelled with a big grin on his face, shaking his head pitifully at Rick. The girls simply busted up laughing, and I couldn't help it either.

  “Shut up, shut up dammit,” Rick said in a melancholy tone.

  We all had a good laugh at his expense.

  Rick threw a few more pitches with thankfully better accuracy. Frankie got a strike out of one and a double on the other, and then we switched up. Frankie headed into the outfield and I went to the pitcher's mound.

  The girls sat on the patio watching intently and making the occasional clap or cheer.

  Rick went up to bat, picking up my old Slugger and started swinging it as hard as he could. A male display of power, although his large bulbous gut sort of got in the way of his attempt to convey ferocity.

  “You ready for this man? Right down the middle, gonna throw the heat!” I warned him.

  “Yeah, I'm ready....” he said confidently. I reared back and tossed the first pitch, all we heard was air and re-verb of the bat as he

  swung with all his might, missing the pitch entirely.

  “I thought you were ready!?” I said, scoffing.

  Rick just shook his head and motioned for the next pitch, using the old “bring-it” motion with his out-stretched hand. We couldn't help but to rub it in some more as I hollered back at Frankie in left field.

  “Hey Frank you ready for this?” I questioned.

  Frankie made a yawning motion “ready for what?” cackled sarcastically. I tossed out another pitch to Rick, which he grazed with enough momentum to send it rolling towards second base. Frankie caught up to it with little problem.

  “Alright, alright; last chance, man!” I heckled.

  Rick started to sway the bat back and forth, for his sake I tossed a slow one right down the middle. What happened next seemed to be in slow motion, as he swung the bat again as hard as he could, doing so with all the power he could muster but this time the bat made full contact. SWWWWAAAAAAAKKKKK!!!!!!!!!! I knew it was a goner; every bit of the power behind the swing nailed the ball squarely and sent it reeling! We all watched as the ball flew high into the sky almost disappearing from sight. Everyone stopped and turned, craning their necks as we watched the ball fly off into the distance. Frankie put his hand above his eyes to get a better view of the hit. Even in a major league ball park it would have been close to a home run, on our little makeshift field it was absolutely outta' there. It finally came down on the other side of the house and bounced a few times before it plopped to rest, nestled in the tall thickets of grass. A

  moment passed and then from the “stands” the girls started cheering and clamping their hands.

  “Damn dude...holy shit...you couldn't hit them that hard back in high school!” I said.

  “You like that, ehhh?” Rick said with a chuckle.

  “Good job man, I will give you credit!” I told him.

  The girls had gotten such a kick out of Rick's grand slam that they came running out on the field to participate with us. Frankie, Shane and I spent the remaining several minutes watching the girls jump and bounce around the field in their swimsuits; we were more

  interested in them, than in baseball.

  We all took several more swings at bat. We got several singles and a few doubles, but nothing else as great as Rick's grand slam. The girls pranced around from base to base which we all got a kick out of watching.

  In the background every once and a while an announcement would come on the radio and mention the tsunami's created by the meteor impact. The meteor itself seemed like an afterthought and in itself was quickly overlooked in the wake of the other ecological problems that came after. It was quite the incident, and natural disasters were even more devastating in undeveloped third world regions which generally were less organized and had fewer resources

  to deal with devastation on such a large scale. We weren't heartless but it was something taking place thousands of miles away and it seemed to have little bearing on our daily lives. In recent years with increasingly bad weather, terrorist attacks and just all sorts of bad mojo floating around it simply didn't have the impact on our psyche that it might have had years earlier. Yet, during the course of the day it was d
efinitely a topic of conversation, we simply had no idea that these events taking place so very far away would have an almost immediate, direct impact on our lives.

  The day started to grow long and Frankie and Brittany decided to pack it in and head home several hours before nightfall. They lived right outside Panatauk and wanted to get on the road before it got too late, we offered them a room for the night but Frankie had to open to store the following morning and the drive to town would simply have been to much. We told him that we might drive up in a day or two and check out his new building, he had just relocated his business to a new location and we were eager to see it in full operation. The last time he showed it to us it was still an empty building in dire need of some TLC.

  Rick, Amanda and I started cleaning up. Amanda would be leaving early because unlike Rick she had to be at work at seven in the morning. Nonetheless she stayed till the late hours to spend time with him and to help get things wrapped up only leaving a little after ten. As the lingering festivities moved indoors and things began to quiet down for the night, only then did we really realize just what catastrophe had taken place. Every channel on the television was covering the disaster and internet search engines were saturated by keywords such as meteor, disaster, ocean, etc.,