Journal of the Undead (Book 1): Littleville Uprising

by Lee, S. G.

  “I’ll be back before anyone knows I’m gone,” Emma whispered to her reflection.

  With her face washed and teeth brushed, she tugged on her clothes. The book had recommended short hair, one inch or shorter, preferably a military-style cut. Combing through her long curls, Emma decided not to chop off her hair. Instead, she pulled it into a tight French braid and tucked the end securely under her collar.

  The architecture of the Stones’ home made it easy for Emma to escape. An intricate wrought iron balcony spanned across the back of their home and each bedroom had its own access. She gathered extra sheets from the closet and knotted them together to make a rope. Emma then anchored her rope to the railing, carefully slid to the ground, and sprinted across the backyard. She scrambled up and over the wrought iron fence then crossed the open field toward her house.

  Once inside her house, the creepy silence sent goose bumps rippling up Emma’s arms. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door to her father’s office. His usually immaculate desk was littered with the file folders and boxes of personal items he had been forced to remove from the base. Emma shoved stacks of folders and her father’s journal into her backpack; not knowing which, if any, would be beneficial.

  With a hint of remorse, Emma keyed the combination into her father’s wall safe and unlatched the door. Jillian had often insisted that Alan lock Emma’s iPod in his safe while she was grounded. Refusing to sacrifice her music, Emma had discovered the combination a long time ago, rendering Jillian’s punishment void. Chuckling to herself, Emma remembered that it wasn’t all that difficult to uncover. The combination was pretty simple; her mother’s birthday, the date of her parents’ wedding, and the twins’ birthday. Because none of those dates were significant to Jillian, she had essentially been the only one locked out. Alan had safely tucked away photos of his first wife along with their wedding certificate, his first wife’s wedding ring, and her death certificate. Emma also found birth certificates and other legal documents, including the deed to the house and stock certificates. Those were shoved aside, but a small notebook with handwritten formulas and equations found its way into Emma’s bag. She locked the safe again and ventured upstairs.

  Even though the bodies had been removed, she was hesitant to search her dad’s bedroom. She pulled some cash out of Jillian’s purse and emptied the contents of the medicine cabinet into her backpack. Kneeling at the spot where her father had died, Emma sobbed.

  “I love you, Daddy, and I miss you.”

  As she stood to leave, she noticed a sheet of paper on Jillian’s vanity. She picked it up and read the letter her father had written to her and Matt.

  My dearest Emma & Matthew,

  By the time you read this, I will be gone. I am so sorry that I could not delay. Because your lives are at stake, I could not risk waiting for you to come home. If you don’t already know, we are under attack from what I can only describe as reanimated corpses. It seems that Jillian’s mugger was actually one of these zombies. When it bit her, the virus was transmitted and she became one of them as well. You both must be very careful to stay clear of these monsters and avoid them at all costs. The only way to kill these creatures is to destroy the brain. I had to put a bullet into Jillian’s brain but, unfortunately, not before she bit me. I will not risk infecting either of you so I will do the same to myself. According to Colonel Ripley, the bodies should be burned to prevent cross-contamination. Matt—if you can bear it—please see to the disposal of our remains. Please take good care of each other and know that I love you both more than words can say.

  All my love,

  Dad

  Emma folded the letter and carefully tucked it into her pocket. In the familiarity of her own room, Emma felt the tightness in her chest release. She gathered some better fitting, weather-appropriate clothes and stuffed them into her bag along with a few personal items. Gingerly removing her favorite photographs from their frames, Emma sandwiched them between cardboard, slid them into a plastic zipper-seal bag, and placed them into the outer pocket of her backpack.

  After double-checking the locks, Emma set off down the sidewalk back toward the Stones’ residence. With the sun brightly shining overhead and a gentle breeze caressing her face, Emma almost forgot that she was supposed to be keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings. When the sun dipped behind an ominous gray cloud, Emma was certain she heard a deep, guttural growl similar to what had echoed in the hallways of her school just days ago. Emma sprinted down the block and ducked into a neighbor’s backyard. The horrifying sound seemed to follow her no matter how fast she ran. Bolting full speed through the field, she launched herself at the wrought iron fence. Thinking she had made it to safety, Emma pulled herself up.

  As she neared the top of the fence, powerful jaws clamped onto her leg. Too terrified to look, she jerked her leg hard and felt it tear free from the mouth of her attacker. The force sent her toppling over the fence and she landed with a thud in the Stones’ backyard. Emma sprang to her feet and ran to her rope without looking back. Seized with panic, she quickly climbed to the top of the balcony. She paused at the window of the guest room. No, she thought, I can’t go in there and risk their lives.

  With no time to waste, she had to get her father’s research to Matt. The thought of saying goodbye to her twin brother was agony. She scrambled across the balcony and stopped outside Evan’s bedroom window. She hoped that Evan would tell him instead and perhaps give her a gun. Scarcely able to draw breath, Emma tapped on Evan’s window.

  Evan was just about to crawl into bed. He had stayed awake for most of the night, keeping watch over his home and family. He lazily flopped onto his plush pillows and for reasons he could not explain, Poe’s The Raven sprang to mind. It was the tapping he heard coming from his window. Expecting a bird, Evan stumbled over to unlock the deadbolt on the shutters to find that Emma was standing outside his window.

  “What the hell are you doing out there?” Evan gasped, trying to regain his composure. “Get in here, right now!”

  Emma shook her head no and instead handed Evan her backpack. “I need you to give this to Matt. It’s important. He needs this!”

  “Emma, get in here,” Evan ordered.

  “I need a rifle and a box of shells.”

  If Evan hadn’t been so flustered, he might have been impressed that she knew to ask for shells and not bullets.

  “No!” he said incredulously,

  “Why not? You’ve got a flipping arsenal in there. What difference will one gun make?” she argued.

  “I’m not giving you a gun. Now get in here! You’re acting like a child. Quit shaking your head no. I’m not kidding; get in here.”

  “Fine then, keep your stuff. Give me my dad’s gun!” she insisted.

  “Emma, I’m not going to tell you again! Get your ass in here now!” Evan growled.

  “No. I can’t,” Emma whispered, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve been bitten.”

  “NO!” With one fluid movement he grabbed Emma, pulled her through the window, and sat her on the bed. “Where? Show me!”

  “My leg,” Emma croaked, looking down at the wounded area.

  As Evan dropped to his knees to examine the bite, his heart lodged in his throat. A stream of blood was seeping through her jeans and running down her leg. Evan slipped off her shoe and tried to pull the leg of her jeans up to the wound, but it was no use. The bite was too far up on her leg and her skinny jeans were too tightly tapered. He couldn’t get them any higher than her ankle. Frantically, Evan jerked Emma to her feet and in an instant he had unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down to her ankles. Emma sat on the edge of the bed attempting to cover her lower half with her shirt as Evan slid her injured leg out of the pants. He grabbed a bottle of water from his nightstand and poured it over the wound. Emma was baffled when she heard him whisper, “Oh, thank God.”

  “Emma, did you go past the Kendrick’s place on your way back?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “It loo
ks like Lecter bit you, not a zombie. Although I’m sure it felt like one of those walking corpses. Miserable animal.”

  “Lecter?”

  “Yeah, the Kendrick’s Rottweiler. I’m not sure what its real name is but I call him Lecter—as in Hannibal Lecter—because he likes to eat people. Since I moved here that crazy dog has bit at least four kids; maybe more.”

  Emma let the news sink in for a minute.

  “So I’m not … I mean, I won’t, you know, become one of them?

  “No,” Evan assured her. Smiling broadly, he added, “No, you won’t.”

  “Thank you for being so concerned even though I know you despise me. I really do appreciate it.”

  “You don’t know anything,” Evan muttered, his smoldering eyes burning into hers. Then, cupping Emma’s face in his hands, his lips crushed down onto hers. Evan’s relief that Emma was safe, coupled with his desire, had taken over as he gently lowered her back onto the bed. His kisses became more demanding while his fingers worked feverishly on the buttons of her shirt.

  Convinced she must be dreaming, Emma did not object. She knew that when she woke up the following day that seeing Evan would be even more painful, but she had missed his kisses. Emma sighed as her head swirled at a dizzying pace. She marveled at the realism of her dream; his kisses were just like she had remembered.

  Evan tried to shut out the nagging voice in his mind that insisted he had crossed the line. His mom and her brother were just down the hall, but he’d longed to hold her for so long. Emma’s skin, still chilled from the cool autumn air, flushed as Evan’s fingertips traced the contour of her neck down to the slope of her breast. Evan paused and waited for a hint of resistance. When he received none, he threw caution to the wind and carefully raised Emma’s injured leg to hitch it up over his hips. A soft sigh escaped her lips as Evan’s hand slipped under the lacy fabric of her bra. Emma returned his kisses with unbridled urgency.

  “Hey, Evan! Have you seen Em-ma?” Matt called, as he popped his head through the door. Gawking at the two of them, Matt scoffed, “Apparently you have … pretty much all of her.”

  Leaping from the bed, Evan stammered, “Matt, it’s not what it looks like.”

  “That’s good, ‘cause it looks like you were about to screw my sister,” he shot back harshly. Then, poking his head into the hall, he announced, “I found her.”

  Whipping back around, Matt pointed at his sister and growled, “Get dressed!”

  Emma pulled her jeans back on as quickly as possible. Her hands trembled as she attempted to button her shirt and ended up with some of the buttons mismatched. Evan picked up the t-shirt that he had haphazardly tossed on his floor and pulled it over his head. Kate breezed into the room while Emma was still adjusting her buttons.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Emma’s guilty expression combined with the jumbled buttons answered her question.

  “Nothing,” Evan replied. “Emma thought she had been bitten so I checked, but she’s fine. No worries.”

  “Well, that makes perfect sense since there’s loads of zombies roaming through the house. Aren’t there, Emma?” Matt’s sarcasm was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

  In the same relaxed tone, Evan replied, “Emma went out this morning.”

  “YOU WHAT?” Matt shouted.

  Kate’s face paled but she tried to remain calm. She placed a gentle yet restraining hand on Matt’s shoulder, hoping he would keep cool.

  “Emma, what were you thinking? Why would you take such a risk?” Kate asked.

  All eyes were on Emma as they waited for her reply.

  “I had to go to my house. I went to get … I mean, there was something there I needed,” Emma replied hastily, hoping her answer would suffice. With no time to look through the stack of papers, she wasn’t sure if she’d found anything that would help them.

  “What could you have possibly needed that we didn’t have here?” Kate asked.

  Emma paused for a moment. Finding the right words would be crucial. She didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.

  “I went to get my dad’s research. They had to have known this was coming. I thought, maybe, he had found a way to ….” Emma’s voice trailed off when she noticed the disapproving frowns.

  “Oh, Emma,” Kate sighed. “I wish you had talked to me first. I could have saved you the trip. Honey, they weren’t working on anything related to this situation. I’m sorry.”

  “But I know he did. He told me,” Emma protested. “I had a dream.”

  “Geez, Emma. Have you gone off the deep end, or what?” Matt shook his head. “You can’t seriously believe that. He’s gone, Em. He can’t help us.”

  “Matthew, you’re not helping,” Kate chastised.

  “It doesn’t matter. I just, I thought that if I had found a way to save us, then maybe you wouldn’t want to kick me out.”

  “Evan! I thought you handled this!” Kate snapped.

  “No one needs to handle ‘this’ because it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not going to stay somewhere when I know I could be chucked out the door any second. I’m sick of being surrounded by people who hate me. Screw it, I’m outta here.”

  Emma lunged for the open window but Evan grabbed her and held her back. Emma struggled to break free but Evan was too strong for her. Though frustrated and humiliated, Emma refused to allow herself to cry. No, she would not give him the satisfaction.

  “Emma Wexley! You plant your butt in that chair and don’t you dare move an inch!” Kate ordered.

  Unaccustomed to having Kate speak to her in that fashion, Emma slumped down into the chair by Evan’s desk and stared miserably at the floor.

  “Now where exactly were you planning to go, young lady?”

  Emma paused. She hadn’t planned anything. If she had made it out the window, she had no idea where she would have gone. In desperation, Emma mumbled that she wanted to go find her Aunt Jenny. Evan immediately rattled off a list of reasons why Emma should stay put while Kate was also trying to persuade Emma to stay.

  Ignoring Evan’s protests and Kate’s pleas, Emma watched the blood from her leg pool onto her sneakers and stain the once-white laces. With her head down, Emma never noticed her brother had slipped out of the room.

  When he returned, Matt was carrying his backpack and zipping up his jacket.

  “If we’re going, I guess we’d better get started. We need to make the most of the daylight. ”

  “We aren’t going anywhere, Matt,” Emma spat. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re staying here.”

  “You’re the one being ridiculous!” Matt shot back. “What makes you think I’d let you leave by yourself? Didn’t you read the book? You’d never make it on your own. Besides, you don’t even know if Aunt Jenny is home or even still alive.” Matt was gaping at her in utter disbelief. “You’ll die on your own. Or worse.” His voice was thick with emotion. The thought of losing his sister was more than he could bear.

  Not like anyone would care, Emma thought to herself.

  Evan dropped to his knees in front of Emma and looked up at her in bewilderment.

  “Emma, I don’t understand. You read my journal. You know how I feel about you.”

  “Oh my God, Emma! Hello, personal boundaries.”

  “Shut up, Matt. This is between me and Emma,” Evan said over his shoulder.

  “Yes Evan, I know exactly how you feel about me,” Emma seethed. “Useless bitch, heartless whore, and my personal favorite, soulless …”

  Evan’s hand clamped tightly over her mouth before she could finish. He couldn’t bear to hear such an ugly word come out of Emma’s beautiful mouth and definitely not in front of his mother.

  “Don’t …” Evan whispered. It was then that he realized Emma had read the wrong entries.

  “Where did you stop reading?”

  “The night before Lucy’s birthday party,” Emma answered. Her voice wavered. It was pure agony to think about what Evan had written, let alone say
it out loud.

  “No, Emma,” Evan sighed. “You were supposed to read the recent entries, not that old stuff.”

  “I didn’t know I was ‘supposed’ to read anything.”

  Evan grabbed his journal and placed it in Emma’s hands. He turned to the day of the uprising and asked her to start reading. Convinced that she had already read more than enough, Emma pretended to scan the pages.

  “Out loud, please.”

  “October 23rd

  The waiting is over and the zombie apocalypse has begun. In spite of all my reading and training, I was completely unprepared for the carnage. My heart almost stopped when Mr. Raybach stumbled out of that little storage room! As he shuffled toward Emma, all I could think was please God, not her. Right then I swore I’d do anything, just as long as Emma was safe. We may have made it here in one piece but I didn’t do such a great job keeping her safe. It was bad enough that she saw half of our class (not to mention Jake and Tyler) being ripped to shreds and Mr. Wexley’s death was even worse but I messed it up more. It was my stupid idea to send Matt off through the field first, just so I could walk with her alone. That’s what sent her over the edge. My first mission was definitely a failure. Dad would be very disappointed! Maybe Tyler was right. I’m not good enough for her and I certainly don’t deserve her. After all, I’m the idiot that told her she wasn’t welcome here. When Mom said Emma was begging not to be tossed into the street with those monsters, it was like a knife to the heart. Honestly, I was so pissed off that day, I barely even remember saying it to her. How could she believe something so ridiculous, anyway? I must have told Emma that I love her a million times. Instead, she believed that stupid lie. Mom adores her and, right now, she’d be more likely to kick me out—not Emma. She’s really mad at me right now!! I have to fix this first thing tomorrow.