Journal of the Undead (Book 1): Littleville Uprising

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Journal of the Undead (Book 1): Littleville Uprising Page 13

by Lee, S. G.


  Matt didn’t have to be told twice. He already knew about Jake’s reputation so naturally he was worried about Emma’s. By the time Matt got there, the party was in full swing. Playing bartender, Tyler poured a cup full of beer and offered it to Matt. He waved it off and went in search of Emma. He found her and her new gal pals laughing and dancing around the kitchen. When the song ended the girls collapsed on each other and reached for their drinks.

  “Don’t even think about it!” Matt bellowed. “I swear to God, Emma, if you take one more sip, I’m telling Dad!”

  Emma glared at her brother with contempt and disgust. “You hypocrite! I totally bailed you out after Brittany’s party and this is how you repay me? Not that it’s any of your business, but this,” Emma sneered, pointing to her cup, “is Diet Coke and I can drink as much of it as I want.”

  “And this is why you don’t date underclassmen,” Jake slurred to his buddies. “Little kids have babysitters.”

  “It’s better than needing an A.A. sponsor, you drunk bastard,” Matt shot back angrily. “And you’re gonna need a probation officer if you even think about giving my sister alcohol.”

  “Fine, take her home then. Seriously, if it’s not you then it’s Stone, and I’m sick of it!”

  Panicking, Emma tried to smooth things over. She needed Jake to stay with her, at least a little longer. The whole Evan fiasco was still fresh in everyone’s mind so the last thing she needed was more drama. Jake had downed most of his bottle and it was not improving his mood.

  Emma smiled sweetly, sidled up to Jake, and whispered in his ear, “I don’t have to drink for us to have a good time.”

  She’d finally managed to capture Jake’s limited attention.

  “She’s hopeless,” Matt muttered as he stormed off, leaving Emma to suffer the consequences.

  ***

  Matt had been pacing the floor waiting for Emma to get in. Finally at two minutes past curfew, Matt stormed upstairs and woke their father.

  “Dad, did Emma get permission to stay out past curfew?”

  Together, Matt and his father waited downstairs for Emma to return.

  When headlights illuminated the driveway, Alan ordered Matt upstairs. Peering through his bedroom window, Matt watched his sister gently close the car door and sprint across their lawn. The front door opened and, without turning on the lights, Emma slipped inside. She tiptoed toward the stairs, holding her breath. When the lights flicked on, Emma knew she was busted.

  “Emma Jane Wexley! My office. NOW!”

  Dr. Wexley was livid. Matt pressed his ear to the vent, eavesdropping on the conversation downstairs. Emma’s appeals were shot down at every turn. She had crossed the line and their father was not interested in excuses. Within minutes, their argument had escalated and Matt no longer needed the vent to hear; their shouting could be heard through the entire house. Jillian stumbled downstairs to put an end to it.

  “I don’t care if you were home early last night. Curfew isn’t like rollover minutes. You’re grounded!” Alan barked.

  “But Dad!”

  “Would you two keep it down?” Expecting Jillian to take his side, Alan rehashed Emma’s charges. Again, Emma tried to plead her case despite her father’s refusal. In an act of desperation, Emma decided to stack the deck in her favor.

  “Mom, would you tell Daddy he’s overreacting?”

  Alan couldn’t believe his ears. Emma had actually called Jillian Mom. Jillian looked at Emma with new respect. With just one word, Emma had helped to solidify Jillian and Alan’s relationship while forging an ally in the curfew debate.

  Yearning for sleep, Jillian settled the disagreement.

  “Alan really, it’s not like Emma is always late. In fact, this is the first time ever and it was only fifteen minutes. Tell you what, how about she gets a warning this time and tomorrow she will be home fifteen minutes early.” Jillian’s voice was smooth as silk. Grudgingly, Alan agreed.

  Upstairs, Matt was seething.

  “Now, Emma, straight to bed,” Jillian ordered with a conspiratorial wink.

  Feeling proud that she’d managed to escape punishment, Emma climbed the stairs with a gleeful smile. She stepped into her bedroom and let out a startled gasp. Matt was sitting on her bed glaring at her. With a single stride, Matt crossed the room and slapped Emma’s face.

  “Don’t ever call her Mom again! I never thought you’d sink that low. You make me sick!” Matt charged down the hall in a rage.

  Still clutching her cheek, Emma chased after him. “Matt, wait. Please!”

  Matt stopped for a second. He turned to face Emma and, with a hateful glare, he slammed the door in her face. Ha! Have a taste of your own medicine, he gloated.

  Emma had never felt as alone as she did at that moment. There seemed to be no hope of reconciling with him now. She crouched outside Matt’s door, afraid to knock but terrified to leave. From the bottom of the stairs, Jillian smiled. Her plan to drive a wedge between the twins had come to fruition.

  ***

  The next morning, Emma felt empty and alone. She didn’t bother fixing her hair or applying makeup after her shower. In her heart, Emma knew she deserved to be grounded.

  She was sprawled on the sofa reading a book when she heard the doorbell. Peering out the window, Emma saw Jake’s car in the driveway. She had to control the overwhelming urge to slap the smug smile from his face as she opened the door.

  “Hiya, baby.”

  Emma stood frozen and unresponsive to Jake’s touch.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” Jake asked, affronted by her indifference. Trying to be clever, he scooped up a handful of her curls and asked, “Bad hair day?”

  “You’re such a jerk.”

  “Aw, come on. You know I’m just playing,” Jake laughingly replied as he pulled Emma close and nuzzled her neck. “You look cute.”

  “You got me into a lot of trouble last night.”

  “What do you mean?” Jake was genuinely confused. He remembered very little from the previous night, but he was under the impression that he and Emma had had some fun.

  “I was late for curfew because you passed out and I had no way home.”

  Jake tried to concentrate through his pounding headache but he just couldn’t remember anything. “I passed out? Maybe you just wore me out, babe.”

  “You wish! Like I said, you passed out. Nothing happened!”

  Matt had been listening from the top of the stairs and breathed a sigh of relief. At least Emma hadn’t made a mistake she would regret for the rest of her life.

  “Really, nothing happened?”

  “Nothing. And thanks to you, I’m grounded. You’d better go before my dad gets home.”

  Still listening from upstairs, Matt wondered why Emma lied about being grounded. To him it was a weak, spineless way to avoid dumping the jerk. He added it to his growing list of reasons to ignore his sister.

  ***

  Monday morning ushered in rumors and gossip about the previous weekend. The halls of Lincoln High were buzzing, particularly about Jake and Emma. Evan overheard Jake’s friends rehashing their ambush from Friday night as if they had done something heroic.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet that’s why Emma couldn’t keep her hands off him,” a faceless voice echoed down the hall.

  “I heard they disappeared into the bedroom and didn’t come out until the next morning,” another added.

  With fists clenched to restrain his rage, Evan stormed off to his locker. As he haphazardly tossed books into his locker, he noticed Emma chatting with a pack of uniforms. After her party, Lucy had written a thank you note to Emma and asked Evan to deliver it. At the time, agreeing to play postman seemed like a good excuse to talk with her. After learning she’d spent the night with Jake, Evan couldn’t bear the thought of talking to Emma. Ignoring the bile rising in his throat, Evan navigated through the crowds toward her.

  “Here,” Evan said, thrusting Lucy’s pink envelope in Emma’s face. “Not that you deserve it.
Lucy doesn’t owe you anything … especially not a thank you.”

  Emma reached out to take the envelope but Evan snatched it back.

  “I’m not done yet.” He grabbed her arm brusquely.

  Yanking her arm back, Emma glared at Evan. “Get your hands off of me or else.”

  Evan’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Or else what?”

  “Or else … I’ll have Jake kick your ass!”

  “Again,” Tiffany chimed in cattily.

  Evan stormed down the hall, knocking over a freshman as he left.

  “Nice one. You showed him!” Tiffany giggled.

  Emma felt the blood drain from her face as she looked around to see if Jake had seen her talking to Evan.

  “Hey, Tiff, what did you mean again?”

  With great enthusiasm, Tiffany relayed the events of Friday night’s beating. Emma’s legs felt like rubber. For the first time, Evan’s abrasive behavior made sense. Suddenly, Emma realized what Evan meant when he said Lucy had been terrified. Oh my God, poor Lucy … and poor Evan.

  “Hey, I forgot something in my locker. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

  Ducking though the hallway, she rushed off in search of Evan. Her heart pounded and she had no idea how to put into words how badly she felt. She wished she’d just kept her big mouth shut but it was too late for that. When she spotted Evan outside his classroom talking with Matt, she froze. The bruise on his cheek had faded into a muted purple with yellowing blotches.

  “Are you okay, Evan?”

  “Why should you care?”

  Matt, who had been ignoring his sister since Saturday night, was scanning the halls for Jake. He didn’t see the need for Evan to take another beating because of Emma.

  “Emma, haven’t you done enough damage already or are you trying to get Evan killed this time?”

  Crestfallen, Emma walked away without another word.

  “Hey, Evan. Just so you know, Emma had no idea Jake jumped you.”

  Startled, Evan turned and found Christy standing right behind him. She’d suspected Emma would seek Evan out after Tiffany’s news.

  “Emma was at my house Friday night. Neither of us heard anything about it until just a few minutes ago. If you’d have seen the look on her face, I doubt even you could have been so mean. Why can’t you just leave her alone?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Like you don’t know!” Christy shot back, rolling her eyes, “Haven’t you ever heard the expression if you can’t say something nice then don’t say anything at all?” Christy walked away leaving Evan dumbfounded. Rolling his eyes, Matt told Evan to ignore her.

  ***

  Two ambulances packed with injured patients raced to Littleville Memorial Hospital. Understaffed due to the recent flu epidemic, the EMTs were forced to exceed the recommended allowances for patients just to get them to the hospital before they bled-out completely.

  “Yo, Doug! Are we almost there? I haven’t got enough room back here to work on anyone.”

  “Just a few more minutes.”

  His walkie-talkie crackled but Randy Kent could hear Doug’s words clear enough to know their patients were at risk despite the few more minutes. He applied more bandages and tried to wrap them tight since he didn’t have enough hands to manually add pressure to everyone’s gaping wounds. It looks like something chewed these people up and spit ‘em back out again, he observed.

  “We’re almost there now so just hang on everyone.”

  Randy hoped his words brought the wounded some comfort. A young woman with savage lacerations to her face sat up.

  “Miss, just lie back and relax, okay? We’re almost there.”

  The girl’s blood-soaked hands reached out toward him. Attempting to offer her comfort, he took her hand. Like a bear trap, her hands clamped down on his and pulled him closer. She sank her teeth deep into the flesh of his face and ripped chunks from it, gulping them down. His screams reverberated inside the cramped ambulance until they finally reached the hospital and Doug opened the door.

  ***

  Emma’s patience was wearing thin and she longed to escape from the trivial life she had created. The Friday pep rally was yet another reminder of the misery she had created for herself. Her mind worked feverishly trying to find a way out of it.

  As she walked through her front door, she was immediately greeted by a thick cloud of smoke. Her father was pulling a charred tray from the oven when Emma entered the kitchen.

  “Dad, what are you doing?” Laughing, Emma opened the window and clicked on the exhaust fan.

  “I was trying to make dinner. Jillian is upstairs resting. You’d think a man with a doctorate would be able to cook for his children without burning down the house.”

  “What’s wrong with Jillian?” Emma asked, genuinely concerned.

  “She was mugged today. I already told Matt and now I’m telling you, I want you both to keep the noise down to a dull roar. Jillian’s pretty shaken up and she needs peace and quiet.”

  After expressing her dismay, Emma promised her dad she

  wouldn’t make a peep as long as he promised not to try cooking ever again. Agreeing, he found a takeout menu and placed an order.

  October’s End

  The Friday morning classes flew by and the entire student body made their way to the gymnasium for the pep rally. In the girl’s locker room, Tiffany was rallying the spirit of her squad. A pep rally for the pep rally, Emma thought. How redundant.

  “Okay team, it’s time. Let’s give it our best. Ready?”

  ***

  Most of the students were on their feet applauding when the first routine came to an end. Evan and Whitney were the obvious exceptions. By the end of their second dance routine, Emma was relieved to have a moment to catch her breath. Coach Rollins had taken the microphone and was offering a quick accolade to his team. The coach’s stirring speech was interrupted by an earsplitting crash and the sound of shattering glass. A late model pickup truck had barreled full-force through the main entrance doors, screeched through the lobby, and wedged into the trophy case. Most of the glass entryway had been destroyed. All that remained of the once beautiful plate-glass wall was a mangled frame and shards of glass that had been ground into the linoleum.

  With trembling hands, Principal Daniels took the microphone.

  “Settle down, everyone! Stay calm and remain in your seats. Your teachers will be directing you back to your fifth period classes while we address the issue in the lobby.”

  He ducked out of the gymnasium while issuing orders to his subordinates. In the lobby, he used his personal cell phone to call 911 before checking on the driver. The man behind the wheel appeared to be fatally injured, with blood flowing freely from the many gashes in his head and neck. Within minutes, the teachers were directing their students back to class and the maintenance crew had assembled to clean up the broken glass.

  The halls were filled with nervous whispers and panicky drama queens. Rolling her eyes at her foolish classmates, Emma headed to class.

  “Ugh, it had to be biology, didn’t it?” Emma’s gripe was met with an approving nod by her new lab partner. She had just reached her seat when Mr. Cortez, the Spanish teacher from across the hall, entered the room and demanded silence.

  “I want everyone in their seats, now! As you may know, Mr. Raybach is not here today. Since a substitute wasn’t called in, I’ll be keeping an eye on your class as well as my own. I expect everyone to be on their best behavior and to study silently. If I have to keep running over here, you’ll be sorry.”

  When he left the room, everyone could hear Mr. Cortez in the hallway complaining to another teacher that Mr. Raybach hadn’t even bothered to call in sick. Mrs. Ambrose, the geometry teacher, commented that Ms. Collins was a no call/no show also. The revelation caused snickers and lewd comments from the biology class students.

  “Maybe they’re still gettin’ it on in the storage room.”

  Evan looked around
the room, trying to determine which of his classmates had so rudely remarked. The rowdier kids laughed while daring each other to go check. A thud from inside the storage room silenced the entire class as they paused for a moment to listen.

  “You’re, like, so immature,” Jessica scoffed, rolling her eyes.

  Convinced it was their imaginations running wild, conversations resumed. On a triple-dog-dare, Derek Blandish snuck to the door of the storage room. Just as he reached out his hand to turn the knob, Emma jumped up from her seat.

  “Hey! Stay out of there, Derek.”

  “Who died and made you boss?”

  “If Mr. Cortez catches you in there, we’ll all get in trouble.”

  Ignoring Emma’s command, Derek opened the door. Again the room went silent, waiting for something to happen. Derek turned to face the class again, triumphantly pumping his fists in the air.

  “See, no big deal.”

  “Mr. Raybach?” Emma questioned as she peered at the door behind Derek.

  “Haha, yeah right. Nice try, cheerleader.”

  A guttural moan from behind the door startled Derek, and he spun around just in time to see Mr. Raybach shuffling out of the tiny room. His ordinarily pasty skin had a greenish tinge and drooping lids half-covered his clouded, unfocused eyes. Mr. Raybach’s collared shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a threadbare undershirt splattered with congealed blood. Pale, scrawny legs poked out from his boxer shorts.

  Expecting to be reprimanded, Derek was rapid-firing excuses. He hadn’t noticed his teacher wasn’t wearing pants. Mr. Raybach’s hand clamped onto Derek’s shoulder pulling him closer as his teeth sank deep into his neck. An oozing chunk of flesh and muscle rolled around in the teacher’s mouth and blood spouted from Derek’s neck like a geyser, splattering Emma’s head and body. Shrieks of terror erupted through the room but Emma could only hear Evan’s voice.

  “Emma! Get away from there!”

  Emma’s legs were firmly rooted in place and refused to budge. She watched in horror as vice-like hands tore Derek’s head from his neck and shoveled mounds of blood-soaked tissue into the gaping mouth of what had once been their biology teacher.

 

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