The Zombie Zovels (Book 1): Zombie Suburbia

by Lake, D. K

  Zombie Suburbia

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of a reviewer in brief quotations.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by D.K Lake

  For Trey and Leland, I know how much you love zombies!

  Prologue

  Somewhere in Oregon. My legs ached painfully and my feet were sore, but I didn't use it as an excuse to slow down or stop. I never slowed down. I only had another three hours before sundown and I wanted to put enough distance between me and the last town I had walked from earlier in the day. The town was small and had already been raided numerous times before, and it was crawling with zombies. I had to get farther away. The nights were the worst, you're always more at risk at night, and they don't care whether it's light or dark, they wander around aimlessly no matter what the time of day. I had to keep moving. If I was always moving forward, it meant they would never catch me. At least, that's what I told myself day after day. I didn't know what else to do. I was on my own, I didn't have anyone else to tell me what to do, so I did what my gut instinct told me to do... keep moving. I'd had an unpleasant run-in with a couple of zombies back at the last town and in the process, I had lost one of my favorite weapons. I liked using the thing so much I had even given it a name, Butchy. Now I felt vulnerable. The next house I found I would stock up again, but for now, I had my gun if needed, but I liked to save the bullets for dire circumstances only.

  My stomach rumbled loudly, reminding me I needed to refuel, but my supplies were dwindling again. The only items I had left in my bag were a canned tin of beans, soup, a packet of cookies, one bottle of water and I had gotten lucky with a packet of crackers, which I'd been saving. I pulled my hood up and stuffed my hands into my pockets, carefully watching the road up ahead. I had learned my lesson before. Never let your guard down, because the moment you do, they'll come for you.

  I scanned the treeline on either side, but all was quiet. Since leaving the town, the only signs of life I had come across was a bird cooing in a tree and two baby rabbits scattering across the road. The snap of a branch nearby pulled me from my mundane thoughts. I slowed down and looked behind me, pulling my hood down to hear better. All I could see was the long straight road with the odd car that had been abandoned here and there when the gas had ran out. I turned back and carried on walking. It was probably a deer, maybe a bear, possibly a wolf. I'd seen all sorts of wildlife in these forests. I wasn't panicking. As long as it wasn't a zombie. I hadn't gone too far when rustling in the forest caught my attention again. I was tired, hungry, and not in the mood to fight off a zombie, that was if it was even alone, I'd seen them moving in groups more recently. But I didn't hear the screams that normally came when a newbie zombie appeared, so I wasn't too worried, the other zombies were slower and wouldn't catch me. I crossed over the grass and ducked into the trees. Hopefully, whatever it was hadn't seen me.

  My eyes quickly searched the trees behind me to make sure nothing was about to jump out, then I watched the road in front, waiting.

  A muffled cough came from the road, and soon enough, a tall hooded figure walked past, looking into the trees. I sunk back behind the tree, not wanting to be spotted. I could tell he was male by his build and height. He came to a stop and spun around looking everywhere. I could only assume he was looking for me. He must have been following me. He was the only human I had seen in five weeks. The last lot of survivors I had run into was a small group, two males, and one female, but I didn't hang around for long. Since the zombie apocalypse or the end of the world, or whatever it was you wanted to call it because no one really had a name for it, everyone's motto was “survive at all costs” and nowadays that meant killing a healthy human to steal their belongings, even if it was only for a cracker. I trusted no one anymore.

  The human walked a little further away and stopped, not sure what to do with himself, he started walking back again, this time, he was looking in the trees in my direction. I stayed out of sight. Normally humans stayed in groups and hid out in basements or buildings that looked secure and some even lived on rooftops because the zombies couldn't climb. It was strange seeing a lone human out on their own. What was stranger was on second glances I realized I recognized him. What the hell is he doing here?

  I had two options, I could either stay in the trees until he got bored and moved on, or I could confront him.

  I was still going over the options in my head when a new sound came from behind me. A familiar shrill scream filled the air, it always sounded like someone was being murdered when they screamed. The newer ones always had the worst screams, that was before the infection spread and they could no longer scream, and instead they gurgled and grunted, like a weird gagging sound. I couldn't tell how close it was as the scream was echoing all around me. I couldn't even tell if there was more than one. I started moving along the treeline, away from the noise. Then I remembered the first reason why I had veered off course and was hiding in the trees.

  But I couldn't see the human anymore. He'd probably heard the screams and legged it, he obviously figured I wasn't worth the trouble of staying behind. I kept moving but smacked into a tree because I was too busy looking behind me. As much as I wanted to stay in the forest out of sight I didn't want to end up giving myself a concussion and end up getting eaten by a zombie. I looked for anything I could use as a weapon, but all there was were small twigs and pine cones. I lifted my jacket and reluctantly pulled out my gun that I kept in my belt. I walked back onto the road, holding the gun in both hands, pointing it at the ground as I walked. The newer zombies were always the quickest, it took a few months for the disease to catch up to them before it slowed them down. Another blood-curdling scream filled the air and I looked back almost certain that was where it had come from. I watched the treeline expecting at any moment the zombie would come running out. I heard a scuffle on the road behind me and spun around ready to shoot. The human skidded onto the road and scrambled to his feet.

  “I nearly shot you!” I gasped, my heart racing.

  “Did you hear it?” he asked, hitching his rucksack strap higher up his arm, holding a somewhat familiar weapon in his other hand.

  “Obviously I heard it. I'm not deaf!”

  “I think it came from back there.”

  “Probably.”

  I walked around him leaving enough space between us and kept moving.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “This way, away from that back there.” I replied, placing my gun back into its place under my jacket.

  “But what about the zombie?” he asked loudly, jogging to catch up to me.

  “If we keep moving it might not see us, but you have to shut up first.”

  “Sorry!” he said quietly, matching my pace. “Shouldn't we run?”

  I couldn't run, my legs were on the brink of collapsing from the distance I had pushed myself to walk today.

  “Feel free.” I said inviting him to the open road ahead, but he stayed by my side. I gave him a sidelong glance, not over the moon he was following me. I didn't know if I could trust him.

  A zombie screamed loudly behind us and we both came to a stop and looked over our shoulders. “Should we run now?” he asked, as a zombie stepped out from
the trees.

  “Crap!”

  “Quick get your gun out.”

  “No. I'm not wasting bullets. That's what that is for.” I pointed at the makeshift weapon in his hand, dangling by his leg.

  He looked at me wide-eyed then back at the zombie.

  “Give it here. I doubt you know how to use it properly.” I said, taking the weapon from him, he didn't protest.

  The zombie stood in the middle of the road watching us. It screamed loudly, another spine-chilling scream, I cringed, wanting to cover my ears.

  The zombie then cracked its neck to the side and I felt something tugging on my sleeve. I looked down to see his hand on my arm, then I looked up at him. His face was terrified and his eyes darted back and forth between me and the zombie. I wouldn't be surprised if he pissed his pants. “C'mon. What are you waiting for?” he asked.

  “You can run if you want, it will only make it scream more, and it will alert any other zombies in the area.”

  He let go of my arm and stumbled back a few steps away from me. I turned back to see the zombie running toward me. I hated this part. No matter how many I killed it never got any easier, and it still scared the shit out of me.

  I gripped the weapon. The weapon was actually a chair leg with a large meat cleaver duct taped to the end with a large pair of scissors sticking out horizontally duct taped on also, turning the chair leg into a multi-purpose dual head weapon.

  The zombie charged at me and I swung hard, aiming for the face area. It was always the first place I swung for, trying to damage their eyes, so they couldn't see me. This zombie was female and taller, and I missed the face and punctured the neck which resulted in a spray of blood. Even after severe damage to its neck, it didn't stop or slow down and tried desperately to reach for me. The newer ones always put up a good fight. It stank and I had to stop myself from gagging. Its arms waved frantically in my direction, its fingertips getting dangerously close as I tried my best to hold it back by pressing the chair leg into its chest. I lifted my foot and gave it a hard shove in the stomach causing it to stumble backward and I swung the weapon before it got the chance to come at me again.

  This time, I was spot on and managed to get both eyes in one go. It screamed so loud my ears felt as though they were going to pop. I needed to shut it up. I didn't want any more showing up. I yanked the weapon back and darted around behind it and kicked it in the back of the knee, causing it to fall to its knees. Then I rammed the meat cleaver into its skull. The zombie fell to the ground jerking its arms and legs around and I continued smashing its skull in until it no longer moved. I straightened up and looked around for the human. He was standing a good distance away, watching in horror. I shrugged at him and stepped over the dead zombie, just as I did another zombie appeared from the trees in-between me and the other human. It looked at both of us and decided the other guy was his choice of snack and made a mad dash toward him. The human took off running, with the zombie trailing him, and me trailing the zombie. My knees wobbled and my feet weren't cooperating, but I kept going.

  Damn, that was one fast zombie, and the human in front was even faster.

  I slowed down into a jog, panting for air. The human didn't look as though he was going to stop which only meant Mr. Zombie would eventually come back for me. I pulled out my gun and aimed. I hesitated, I didn't really want to waste a bullet, but I got the feeling the human might get himself killed if I didn't step in. I pulled the trigger, and a second later the zombie fell flat on its face. Even at this distance, I was a good shot, all that time spent with my dad at the gun range had paid off. That was the first time I'd had to use the gun in six months. The human in front had heard the shot and stopped running, and was already jogging back to the zombie that lay lifeless on the ground. I slowly moved toward him, cautiously. I had survived nearly twelve months on my own and I wasn't about to risk my safety. I couldn't believe I'd just wasted a bullet for him.

  Chapter 1

  Washington. Present-day. I gazed out the window watching the janitor sitting on his ride-on lawn mower, cutting the grass outside. Backwards. Forwards. Up. Down. Round... and round. Yeah, I was beyond bored and in desperate need of food to feed my brain. My concentration was non-existent today. I glanced sideways to see what Pip was doing. She was lovingly adding more decorative hearts to her notebook. It was her most treasured possession that she took everywhere with her, full of poems and words that she thought were important. On the outside, her notebook was covered in hearts, each filled in with patterns, the inside of the notebook (which was always kept well hidden from sight) was tattooed with more hearts, and every heart had a name scrawled inside of it. Lane. Lane Walker, the boy Pip had been dreaming about since he moved to our boring old town. That was nearly two years ago and I thought she would have outgrown the fascination by now.... if anything, it had gotten worse. Of course, everyone knew about her crush, it wasn't a secret. But Pip being Pip got away with staring at him all gormless-like every day, and never once got teased for it, mainly because her dad was the Principal of our high school, and Pip was the girl everyone knew about.

  The girl that everyone talked about, the girl that everyone felt sorry for. Pip had lost one of her legs when she was five to meningitis, she got around on a prosthetic leg, but she hated the thing and managed on crutches most of the time. She was a pretty little thing, long blond hair that was naturally straight so much so all she had to do was wash and go without having to use a flat iron. I envied her gorgeously straight hair, mine was a wavy mess and looked as though I'd had it braided all night, not like those amazing beach waves everyone has, mine were more zigzag and chaotic, and my hair color was brunette and looked like I'd been dying it on account of the deep red tint to it. Pip and I had been friends since kindergarten, she was friendly to everyone and had a positive attitude when it came to life. We were nothing alike now, though. Almost complete opposites, but we got along nonetheless.

  I never understood what her obsession with Lane Walker was. He'd moved here just after we started Freshman year, and the only thing I can put it down to is on his first day here Pip happened to be walking (or crutching) it was during the second period and he had arrived late on his first day, Pip was on her way to the bathroom and managed to slip over on her crutches and Lane Walker (her hero) happened to be walking the same way, and helped her get back onto her feet, or to be exact he helped her get back onto her foot. I think the Lane Walker heart doodles started shortly after that. I propped my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my knuckles, trying to stay awake. I had promised myself I'd have an early night last night, but instead, I'd snuck back downstairs when both my parents were asleep and watched another horror movie on my dad's iPad that he kept hidden from mom. Netflix was out little secret. Horror was my favorite genre, Pip hated horrors and only ever watched romantic comedies.

  Something hit me on the back of the head. I looked over my shoulder and saw Eric and Sean silently laughing, soon followed by Marcie. She shot me one of her 'you're a piece of crap' looks before laughing at me. I gave her one of my 'I wish you would drop dead' looks (sometimes I think I meant it) she turned her lip up in disgust and looked away.

  I was a target to many of her snide remarks. Pip was off limits, of course, on account of her only having one leg, but Pip usually carried on oblivious to their behavior and wanted desperately to be a part of their little girl group. I couldn't think of anything worse. I was already looking forward to the end of Junior year, at least, I'd get a break from my daily torture over the summer. I watched Eric as he fired another spitball, this time aiming at Chloe in the front row. They always picked on the weaklings. The ones they deemed unworthy. You were only safe if you were apart of the group, which consisted of Eric (who was practically the ringleader) Sean, Chris, Matty, Lewis, and Lane. The most popular jocks, or as popular as you can get in the eleventh grade. Then there were their little followers. Lacey, Marcie, Courtney, and Katherine. I loathed all four of them and they hated me just as much, I
wasn't sure what I had done wrong. It all started in kindergarten, and slowly got worse as we moved up to high school. I found it best to ignore them. I was an oddball in their eyes. The girl that liked to draw during her lunch break, the quiet one with the earbuds in her ears watching the jungle around her that was called high school. Pip spent her lunch breaks in Drama Club or practicing violin in the music room. I was classed as the unsociable one. I didn't mind, though. I couldn't imagine their conversion was anything I'd be interested in. Shoes and handbags weren't really my thing. My thing was learning to shoot down at the shooting range that my dad owned. My dad used to work for the military up until my mom had a nasty car accident and was left fighting for her life. She recovered, but she's never been quite the same. She now suffers from a bad back on and off, and the other things that started happening soon after the crash. She became obsessed with Indian food, to the point the house now smelled like the inside of an Indian restaurant, she also banned electronics from the house stating they killed brain cells. Even the TV had to go, the very one she used to sit in front of every night watching TV dramas. The only thing I was allowed to keep was my iPhone, and I pleaded with her to let me keep my stereo. My music was my sanity some days. Mom also suddenly became allergic to our family cat Larry, that we had to re-home, she randomly decided to start dressing like a hippie, and she now complains everything smells of ginger. So I'm not sure if all of that makes her crazy or not, but she's my mom and I've only got one so I've just learned to deal with her quirkiness.

  I heard Pip sigh next to me. It was one of her dreamy sighs, she was staring across the room at Lane.

  Lane wasn't as close-knit to Eric like the other boys were. He joined in with their jokes, but it always looked like he was putting up with them more than enjoying their company, or maybe I was just seeing it wrong. Eric fired another spitball, this time at Miranda, and when Mr. Garrison wasn't looking she turned around and gave Eric the finger. Lane sank back into his seat, shaking his head ever so slightly. All the boys were smirking, egging Eric on, but Lane just looked bored. His eyes drifted in my direction, connecting with mine for that three second moment, it happened every Calculus class... and just like that, it was gone, and his gaze shifted elsewhere.