Donna of the Not Undead (...of the Not Undead Book 1)

by Bryan Mosier

  “No, I think I got a plan” says Brandon. Looking at Melody, he says“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

  If you’re thinking what I’m thinking then I’m thinking what you’re thinking” says Melody

  “I thought so” says Brandon.

  “What the hell are they talking about?” asks Bryan, a confused questioning look on his face.

  “I don’t think they even know?”

  “When we tell you, you guys make a b-line for the front doors.”

  “What the hell, can’t you see the freakin herdof zombies…there’s no way!”

  With a chilling calmness in his voice and with what in another light might look like a sinister grin on his face, Brandon calmly says“Oh, there’s a way…there is always a way”.Standing up to go forward, Brandon feels a hand grab his elbow. “What are you gonnado” asks Alex. “I can’t let you…” he starts but is quickly interrupted.

  “Don’t worry, I got this” says Brandon, his voice showing more confidence than his young age should allow. With a gentle nod, Alex relents, letting go of Brandon’s shoulder offering a quiet“Be careful”.

  Crouching low and walking with slow, deliberate steps, Brandon leads Melody up out of the ditch and begins making his way to the parking lot strewn with all manner of automobile. The landscape truly looks like a used car lot managed by someone who had no organizational skills whatsoever. Compact cars, SUV’s, pickup trucks, sedans, box delivery trucks, foreign and domestic, they are all scattered around the parking lot, seemingly parked wherever the owner could find a spot. Some, however, came to their final resting place through less deliberate means. The telltale indicators of zombie interference clearly evident on several of the vehicles with their smashed windshields and blood splattered interiors. As Brandon and Melody make their way further into the chaos of the parking lot, the group is surprised when they see Brandon test the door of a late model mid-sized sedan. Apparently locked they move on to another car, a small, classic nineteen seventies model Volkswagen Bug. With its deep royal blue paint and white pin striping with matching interior, it’s obvious that the maintenance and restoration of this iconic classic was a labor of love for someone. With so many other options in the parking lot, the group is curious as to why the two youngsters would choose this particular vehicle. Checking the handle they see Brandon smile as he opens the door and looks inside. Motioning back to Melody he gives her a thumbs up gesture and moves on. While Brandon begins searching the next automobile, Melody quietly crawls into the VW’s driver’s seat.

  “What the hell are they doing” asks Alex in a worried, frustrated voice.

  “They’re going to get themselves killed” says Darla.

  Looking on the group sees that Brandon has apparently found a small, late model pick-up truck that meets his liking and has crawled into the front seat. The truck, though one of the smaller models, was apparently the pride and joy of its previous owner. Decked out with custom wheels and large, knobby tires for off roading. An ostentatious shade of bright orange the little truck also sports a large roll bar in the back capped with four large fog lights that glare over the top of the cab. This large tubular metal frame is matched by a heavy blacked out brush guard on the front of the truck with two more matching fog lights. Having situated himself in the seat with the safety belt firmly engaged, Brandon leans out the driver side window and looks back at Melody who in turn has her head stuck out of the Volkswagen’s driver side window. With his left arm outstretched, Brandon slowly counts off with his fingers…one…two…three. As he lifts the third finger both engines whirl and come to life. The engine of the VW sounds quiet compared to that of Brandon’s pickup truck as itlets out a loud, raucous growl, a sound as arrogant and ostentatious as its custom paint job with the redneck call sign of“Git ‘r Done” painted across the back tail gate. As expected, as soon as the engines start, the mass of zombies gathered at the front of the building start to turn in the direction of the noise.

  “What the hell are they doing, they’re gonna draw the whole lot of‘emright to them” declares Darla, her anxiety starting to show as her voice trembles slightly.

  “I think that might be their intention” says Alex.

  Seeing the zombies starting to make their way towards them, Melody, leaning forward to see over the dashboard, shoves the gearshift into drive and releases the break. Slowly the car starts to move forward and then suddenly comes to a jerking halt. “Them are some touchy brakes you got there old girl” she says as she slowly presses on the accelerator again. As she eases the car forward and carefully weaves it around the other abandoned cars she starts to gain more confidence and increases her speed. As she makes a right turn, the rest of the group watching on lets out a collective gasp. Rather than turning away from the horde of zombies, expecting her to lead them away from the front of the building and creating an opening for the rest of the group, Melody has pointed her small little compact car directly at the vanguard of zombies leading the slow, steady march toward the shiny blue object making the unusual noise. With a quiet pause Melody steels herself letting a moment of calm come over her. Then opening her eyes, she yells out in a voice that can be heard all over the parking lot “ALONZIEEEEE!!” Jamming the accelerator hard to the floor, the tiny car barrels towards the mass of zombies, its little engine screaming in harmony with Melody in a cacophony of wanton, euphoric chaos. When the first zombie hits the low, rounded hood of the little VW, the unfortunate recipient of her attack is propelled up and over the little car, coming down hard onto the pavement with a skull shattering thud. One after the other, the mass of zombies, their mindless instinct to go after this unusual source of the noise and movement, walk right into the path of the little blue VW of death with its petite pilot yelling her war cry at the top of her lungs.

  As Melody begins her rampage, Brandon finds that he is having a little more difficulty with his chosen vehicle. Having a manual transmission, Brandon upon releasing the clutch continues to feel the truck lurch forward and then suddenly stall, killing the engine. Starting the engine again and again trying to release the clutch while simultaneously pressing the accelerator, Brandon manages to get the truck to move forward a few feet before the truck once again comes to a sudden, jerking stop. Repeating this process a few more times, Brandon finally manages to get the truck rolling but when he tries to shift into second gear, the sound of grinding gears can be heard across the parking lot and again the truck comes to a sudden stop. Frustrated and with a string of profanity muffled under his breath, Brandon starts the engine again and presses and releases the clutch again, this time jamming the accelerator as he does so. The truck seemingly sitting still for a moment as smoke starts to surround the little redneck dream machine with a loud screeching sound filling the air, the truck slowly starts to move forward. With a hard jerk Brandon shoves the clutch to the floor, shifts into second gear and releases the clutch again as he jams the accelerator hard. The truck speeds forward, careening toward a light pole at the end of one of the painted aisles of the parking lot. Jerking the wheel hard to the right Brandon barely misses hitting the pole head on but makes contact as the entire side of the truck scrapes against the metal fixture. Angling the truck back towards the now more dispersed group of zombies Brandon yells out“Leave some for me” and begins his own onslaught, finding that the large metal brush guard on the front of the truck is perfect for alleviating the zombies of their desire to walk or eat human flesh or basically anything other than imitating a slick spot on the pavement.

  As the rest of the group watches on their expressions, at first, are of abject horror at the scene taking place before them.

  “Oh my god, this is disgusting” says Carla, turning her head away as if to vomit.

  Slowly though their expressions begin to turn. One after another their mouths, hanging slack jawed from the shock of what they are witnessing begin to clench as one zombie and then another is ground into the asphalt.

  “That actually looks kindafun” admit
s Bryan.

  “Yeah, get those nasty, rotten sons of… “ starts Carla

  “Carla Jean!” declares Darla “What’s gotten into you?”

  With an embarrassed look on her face Carla slinks back to where Bryan is standing, positioning herselfbehind him as if seeking protection from her sister’s disapproving look.

  “What do ya think guys, should we let the little brats have all the fun?”

  “Hell / Heck / Helveteno!” comes the unanimous consensus.

  Slowly each of the remaining group sneaks forward into the parking lot checking an assortment of vehicles until everyone has equipped themselves with a four wheeled zombie crushing death machine of their liking. Bryan manages to procure a brand new silver Dodge Charger complete with a black racing stripe down the center of the car. Darla chooses a powder blue Toyota Prius, whose, as luck would have it, battery is still at full charge. Carla having found a blue Ford Taurus whose seat covers indicate that it may have been owned by someone with a deep love of leopard print, jumps in and immediately starts checking and adjusting her mirrors and seat belt. Helga, staying faithful to her European lineage, finds another purple Volkswagen Bug, this one being much more modern than the one that Melody is currently using to smear zombie juices all over the parking lot. Justin, having been more concerned with durability, finds a large black Hummer and promptly climbs inside. Finally, Alex finds a sparkling new canary yellow Chevrolet Camaro still with the temporary tags taped to the back windshield. Most likely stolen from a car lot once all civility had broken down, it roared to life with a quick twist of the key in the ignition, letting out a thunderous rattle. Sticking his hand out the window and giving a confirming thumbs up, Alex receives the same affirming gesture from each of his companions. With that all six vehicles roll into position and with one last look between them they all accelerate to begin the hunt for their undead victims.

  It is Justin who is first to make contact with one of the stumbling forms in his path. Even though his mind tells him that this is a vile, undead abomination, the moment of impact is still a staggering jolt to his senses as he sees the human form disappear under the front of his car and he feels the sickening thud of the massive twenty-one inch alloy wheels rolling over the animated corpse. Most unnerving is the sickening squishing sound he hears as necrotic fluids are squeezed out of internal cavities and squirt out in all directions as the mass of the vehicle passes over the body. “Oh I think I am going tobe sick” he says to himself as he turns the massive vehicle around to make another run.

  Hesitant at first, Carla is mindful not to accelerate the vehicle very fast, fearing that she might lose control of the vehicle. Maintaining a tight grip on the steering wheel, hands at the ten and two positions just like her dad had been teaching her to do before the world had come to a crashing end, her first impact with a zombie was more of a gentle nudging. Knocking the undead female wearing hot pink leopard print yoga pants to the ground and seeing her stumble back to her feet in the rear view mirror, Carla thinks to herself“This isn’t as easy as it looks”.

  “What the hell is she doing?” asks Darla to no one in particular,“Did she just use her turn signal? Speeding towards Carla, Darla in an attempt to get within ear shot of her sister to offer some constructive criticism, in her distraction doesn’t see a large male zombie stumble into her path. The man, with his massive torso distended from either the rotten gasses generated from his decaying internal organs or a life of beer drinking and generally poor impulse control, smashes hard into the grill of the small bodied Prius. In a spectacular explosion of chrome colored plastic and putrefied flesh, the zombie splatters all over the front of the little car, covering the windshield in a bloody, gore filled mess. Startled by the sudden crash and unable to see where she is going, Darla instinctively goes for the brake but in the confusion, depresses the accelerator instead, sending the car careening forward. It’snot until the car comes to a crashing halt that she manages to regain her bearings and it’s the voice of her sister that brings her back to reality. “What the hell are you doing? Are you insane?” Fumbling around with the various switches and levers on the steering column, Darla finally manages to engage the windshield wipers, the meager stream of fluid squirting onto the windshield as the wipers struggle to remove the chunks of decayedmeat and fluid. As the window starts to clear Darla sees that in the chaos of the last few moments she has managed to firmly implant the front end of her Prius into the back end of Carla’s Taurus.Rolling the driver side window down a bit Darla yells out“Sorry, my bad. Oh, also, what are you worried about, your insurance premium gonna go up or something? Hit these monsters!”

  Frustrated with her older sisters criticism of her driving abilities, Carla guns the accelerator and speeds off and loops around to find another potential victim. “I’ll show her how you deal with these nasty stumble bums.” Continuing her looping trajectory, Carla realizes that she has now positioned herself to the rear of Darla’s powder blue zombie covered Prius. “Let’s see that little windup toy can take a hit.” Jamming the accelerator to the floor she heads full throttle directly at rear end of the Prius. Hearing the distinctive sound of an engine motor getting louder, Darla looks in the rear view mirror and sees Carla coming towards her. In a panic Darla presses the accelerator to the floor. Hearing the wir of the electric motor grow louder she is terrified when the car refuses to move forward out of the way of the oncoming car. In a moment of resignation, Darla can only brace herself for the impact to come. As the front of the Taurus makes contact with the back of the Prius, the force of the collision attracts the attention of everyone else, human and zombie alike. When the chaos has settled, both cars sit in a state of ruin. The Prius, with its entire back axle completely separated from the vehicle sits motionless, having spun one-hundred eighty degrees from its previous position. The Taurus, its front end smashed and its hood crumpled up in a way that covers the front windshield sits parallel to the Prius, both driver’s windows next to one another. Both drivers, dazed and confused by the impact of the vehicles and that of the airbags hitting them in the face, look at each other through spider webbed glass and realize that their joy rides have both come to an end.

  “WoooooHooooo, that looked like fun” yells Brandon as he views the aftermath of the collision. Inspired by the impromptu demolition from Carla and Darla, Brandon spies Alex spinning his tires on the head of a zombie, sending rotted gray matter flying on the windshield of a parked blue Toyota Camrybehind him. “Heh, heh” he chuckles as he takes aim for his brother’s bright yellow Camaro. “Let’s see how well little BumbleBee can take a sting.” Shoving the truck into gear and flooring the accelerator Brandon propels his redneck guided missile directly at Alex. Hearingthe loud rattle of the trucks dual exhaust, Alex looks up to see Brandon coming right for him.“He’s coming right for me!” he yells as he turns the wheel sharply to get his vehicle out of harm’s way. Managing to swerve before hitting the Camry head on, only taking a glancing blow off the rear quarter panel that sends a shower of sparks and blue and orange flakes into the air. With Brandon giving chase, doing his best to catch his brother,“What the hell are doing you crazy little…” yells Alex but is cut off when, in a thundering crash of metal, his pristine yellow Camaro’s rear end lurches sharply to the left, sending the car spinning, smashing into a group of zombies, skidding on the resultant explosion of entrails until it comes to a crashing halt against a large green van. Trying to restart the engine, the sounds coming from the front end of the car sound nothing like the finely tuned precision piece of engineering that he heard before. Looking out the rear window of his wrecked vehicle Alex is surprised to see sitting at the point of the collision is Helga, in her own little VW, the front end a wreck of metal and plastic, steam billowing out from under what is left of the hood and all manner of mechanical fluids draining from underneath the car. Recognizing the questioning look on his face, Helga yells “Är inte detta så mycket kul , vad ni amerikaner kallar en rivning derby , ja ? "

 
“Sure Helga, just an accident, no problem,” replies Alex, with the exception of“Americans”, not having understood a word she said.

  Witnessing the mayhem and destruction that has left incapacitated the cars that Carla, Darla, Alex and Helga were driving, Justin has become keenly aware that any plans they might have had have now devolved into a chaotic mess of mechanical carnage. With several undead still ambling about, seemingly confused as to which source of noise and movement to go after, Justin decides that he will be the one to finish what they all started. Taking aim at a cluster of zombies about thirty feet in front of him, Justin presses the accelerator. Remembering the disgusting experience of his first zombie encounter, Justin, in a moment of weakness shuts his eyes at the last second before his front bumper makes contact with his target. Just as his gas guzzling SUV is about to plow into his target of mindless zombie chattel, the group of undead explode into a cloud of body parts and fluids as Brandon steals victory from Justin at the last second. Having not seen what just happened and having expected at least a loud thump, Justin opens his eyes to see what seems like a large lamp post coming directly at him. Realizing it is his own forward momentum that is putting him in peril, in a last ditch effort to miss the post, Justin yanks the wheel hard to the right. The sound of tires screeching lasts for only a few seconds as the massive, top heavy beast of a machine begins to lean, its passenger side wheels lifting off of the ground. For a moment, Justin thinks to himself that he might actually survive this but that hope is quickly dashed as the SUV continues to lean sharply until it comes crashing down on its side. Having had such momentum, the vehicle skids along, sending a shower of sparks flying as the metal scrapes against the hard pavement. Crashing into a string of zombie bystanders, grinding them into mush under its massive weight, the Hummer finally comes to a rest a few feet from Helga and Alex.

  “Well, that was interesting” says Justin.