Dawnland (Book 1): Pockets of the Dead

by Karen Carr

  Not daring to be window level, though my blinds were closed, I made my bed on the floor. I plugged in and flipped open my laptop to check if I had any messages. To my overwhelming surprise, I had a message from Stan. This time seeing his words made my heart go pitter-patter, tugging at all the good times we had together. It was a short post, simply reading:

  Stan: Found Saudah. Mi-Yung gone. Supplies running out. You were right, I was just jealous of you. No one is smarter, remember that.

  He left a couple of dozen emoticons after his message, mostly hugs and teddy bears and smiles. I felt a pang of my own jealousness knowing that Stan went to Saudah’s instead of trying to find me. I could have really used his help and comfort right now. Stan and Saudah were only a few blocks apart, so it made sense that he went to her first, nevertheless it still made me mad. Unfortunately, they were over three miles from me and I still had no idea how to get to them.

  I checked Saudah’s chat; she, too, had left me a message.

  Saudah: Stan’s here. Save me from him. He’s driving me nuts. You will survive. You have to.

  A laugh caught in my throat, but I didn’t let it escape. Saudah and Stan would be driving each other crazy.

  I covered my eyes with my hands; there was no way I was going to lose my friends. If they were alive, I was going to find them. I didn’t know how or when. I was going do it if it were the last thing I did on this planet.

  Just in case Mi-Yung had been able to contact me before she died, or in case Stan meant that Mi-Yung wasn’t home, I checked her chat too. But there was no reply to my last post. I left each of them messages telling them I was safe and that I would find them.

  I then proceeded to download every Wikipedia article and document that I could find on the web about surviving an apocalypse, and there were plenty. I went through the health sites and downloaded more information. I knew I had limited time on the laptop. Who knew how long the internet would last? I couldn’t print. It would make too much noise. At least I would be able to read up on the subjects while I still had power.

  After the third day and night, it was eerily quiet so I decided to venture into the kitchen by crawling on my hands and knees down the hall. The small kitchen overlooked the dining and living room areas, making it slightly dangerous because of the view into my apartment. I didn’t want to be spotted by any of those monsters.

  Sunlight was streaming through the balcony windows and birds were chirping outside like it was a perfectly normal day. The warmth of the sun filled me with the most beautiful and amazing feelings of hope. Light had come back to earth and a new day had dawned. I crawled behind the kitchen counter to the refrigerator, where I had a most delicious feast of fruits, vegetables, milk and ham.

  After my meal, I retrieved my power supply to my laptop and turned it on. One chat popped up and it was from Stan. It read simply:

  Stan: Going north. Last chance to come.

  How could he do this to me? They weren’t going to leave without me. Instinctively, I replied to his message, telling him he had to wait, and then I deleted it. How did I know what kind of trouble they were in? At least I seemed to be relatively safe where I was, which meant I would miss my last chance to find them.

  On the sixth day I woke up feeling something was different. I had been sleeping in the small laundry room next to the pantry at the end of the kitchen. When I crawled out of my hiding space and opened the fridge door, I noticed that it wasn’t as cool as it should have been. I glanced at the microwave and oven clock, which were both off. I grabbed my laptop and flipped it open. I had been able to charge it up, and it was still working, but there was no longer an internet connection. The days of electricity were behind me.

  I expected this, nobody was going to work if they were still alive and the power plants couldn’t last that long without people, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. I had almost polished off everything in the fridge, except for a frozen dinner, condiments, some bread and a six pack of beer. It wasn’t my beer, it was Stan’s and I didn’t feel like drinking it. I couldn’t cook the frozen dinner without a microwave or oven, so I took it out of the freezer and left it on the counter to defrost.

  I made myself a honey sandwich and inventoried my supplies. My plan was to remain barricaded in my apartment until I ran out of the last bit of food. I predicted that would take a couple weeks, and that was with my stash of Ramen Noodles. After that, I would have to venture out into the dawn of a new world. Excitement, anticipation, fear and loneliness filled my head.

  October 21st

  302 Swandeen

  Haverlyn Village

  My food supply lasted only eleven days and those were the most boring, nerve wracking, sad, scary days of my life, especially since I had no internet access. I had no idea what was going on in the world outside and it was beginning to bug me in a crazy-miserable kind of way. I managed to close all of the blinds throughout my apartment, so I had full roam of the place, but I still crept around on my hands and knees.

  I began to watch the zombies between the cracks of my blinds in my bedroom window. Every now and then several would make their way through the parking lot. The more I watched them, the more detached I became, like I was viewing a scientific experiment through a lab window.

  It helped to think that there was a possibility everyone would snap out of it, however I knew I was stupid for trying to believe in magic. There was no way someone could snap out of having their guts eaten out, but I still tried very hard to think like a clinician because the alternative was insanity.

  The trio that had eaten Annie were constant travelers through the parking lot, sometimes they were together, sometimes they were apart, and sometimes Annie was with them. Annie had not weathered her attack well. Her yellow bathrobe was gone, as was most of her stomach and abdomen, chewed away by her attackers. A thin-strapped nightgown, the kind you wear on date night, covered her shoulders and chest but ended there. I wondered if the undead guy wearing only boxers was with her the night everyone turned.

  The times when Undead Annie and her Boxer Boyfriend met, they staggered around together for a while, but not because they enjoyed one another’s company. They had absolutely no feelings of any kind, except hunger, which was especially noticeable when a dog ran bye. The poor undead-clumsies had no chance of catching a dog; canines were too fast for them. In fact, when they tried to catch any kind of beast, squirrel, cat, dog, they would invariably fall to the ground and then struggle to get up again.

  It was astonishing to see that so many people fell victim to their violent attacks, considering how easy it was to escape them. People weren’t very good at protecting themselves anymore. Widespread panic seemed to have taken many lives.

  I promised myself I wouldn’t be afraid. Those zombies were nothing. Big, fat zeroes. In fact, I would never think of them as zombies again. To me, they were only zeroes. I watched two groups of zeroes come upon each other. They didn’t talk or moan-gargle in conversation. They didn’t acknowledge one another when they joined the larger group. It was more like they were just units of flesh who managed to stay together by random acts of movement, similar to how raindrops were drawn together to form a puddle.

  I watched the zeroes carefully for days, to see how many of them looked up into the apartments. I kept track of their movements in a small notebook, making a hash mark and recording the date and time when they raised their heads. It happened only when there was a bird in the sky, or a movement in the window from someone’s abandoned pet. There was only one I had to watch out for, because his neck was broken and his head was permanently forced backwards, which made his natural line of vision the same level as my apartment. Another one on the second floor was trapped in his apartment, and would bang on the window anytime there was activity below, but I wasn’t worried about him.

  I started to recognize more of them and noticed that their routes were somewhat predictable. Their groups became larger and smaller depending on what obstacles were in their way, but they
always seemed to appear in repeated intervals. Studying them made me feel high, like I was working on a project for school. This would be my term paper, the ultimate master’s theses.

  In my past life I was only an undergraduate, but I could be anything I wanted now. My work would still center on population studies, and the population I was studying happened to be undead.

  My excitement came to a miserable, crashing halt when I realized that no one would be around to read my work. Heck, I’d probably have to hand-write it since there was no more electricity. Thinking of no-electricity reminded me of the drunken solar installers. They were working on a project to turn several of the buildings in Haverlyn Village into completely self-sufficient solar energy units. As in, they got their electricity from the sun and not from the power plants.

  I knew it was time to venture out of my apartment and find a new place to live.

  Chapter 3: Hella Kills

  October 22nd

  302 Swandeen

  Haverlyn Village

  I woke up early the next day, wiped my body with wet ones, brushed my teeth with baking soda and swallowed the water I used to rinse. Next, I put on my yoga pants, a tight fitting shirt, and my running shoes. My plan was to visit the neighbor’s house to raid their kitchen and to try out my ability to sneak around unseen. If I was successful, I would venture into the oval and the green, where at least a few apartments were wired with solar panels.

  I found my biggest kitchen knife, which wasn’t very big because I didn’t need a really big knife in my small little kitchen, and held it in front of my body. I would get out quick, close my door behind me, and then swiftly enter the neighbor’s apartment.

  Once inside, I would check for zeroes, and then take anything that seemed useful for my next journey, including food, medicine and bandages since they were medical students, and anything else that would come in handy like a hammer or a crowbar so I could ditch the stupid knife.

  Opening the door to my apartment, I saw Ned’s corpse lying next to his dead dog. Ned’s head was gone, and his body was barely recognizable, except for his scrubs which were now brown with dried blood. I had never seen a dead body before, and the sight of it made me want to run away, but I had nowhere safe to go. The smell of decaying flesh entered through every orifice in my body, making me dizzy and sick inside.

  This was it. This was my new world and I had to face it alone. If only I could’ve made it to Stan and Saudah before they left. If only they had told me where they were going. One extra line in their chat wouldn't have killed them, zeroes can’t read. If there was any chance they hadn’t left, I was going to find them. I had to get to Saudah’s, but first I had to step across Ned’s body. If I couldn't take one simple step forward, over the rotten stinking corpse, I would never be able to take the leap to Saudah’s.

  Stepping across Ned’s body gave me the chills. My eyes were watery and burning, my skin was damp with sweat, my heart was racing and my breath was quick, but I was out in the world again. As long as I didn’t look down at my feet, where I felt something oozing underneath my sole, I would be able to make it next door. My euphoria evaporated when I saw two undead-things looking at me from the office window directly across the street.

  I cursed myself for not going out at night, but I was scared of the dark and didn’t want to deal with an irrational fear when there were plenty of rational ones around me. The next thing I realized was that the deck was made of wood slats, so that anything underneath me would surely see my shadow as I crossed the porch. It was the most dangerous part of the journey, but it was only about thirty feet to Ned and Mark’s apartment. I had to move fast because those freaks in the offices were banging on the window and they were bound to attract attention from below.

  It took me about four seconds to get to their apartment, and into the open door. Since there was no sign of life, or un-death, I shut the door behind me and walked swiftly down the hall to look into the first bedroom. It was clear, so I entered to check out the rest of the room. It must have been Mark’s room because I recognized a picture of him and his boyfriend on the bedside table. There was also a wallet and some keys which made me nervous because he wouldn’t have left home without those.

  A soft moan coming from the hallway made me stiffen. It sounded like Mark, not like Mark in any conscious sort of way; more like something else was using his vocal chords. I didn’t think it had seen me yet, because the moan wasn’t one like when they were in full on ravenous hunger-chase mode. This was more like I’m just strolling around my apartment trying not to fall over mode. It was time to abort my mission.

  Before I could get out of the bedroom, I saw a shadow in the hall. I was trapped. I had to hide. It came closer and I dropped to the floor. But then, Mark let out a huge gargle-filled moan. He had either spotted me or he could smell me. I took out my knife and tried to make it under the bed, but it was one of those platforms and had no space for me. I had no choice but to jump up and try to defend myself.

  When Mark saw me, he lurched at me with his hands outstretched, making mine tremble so much that I dropped my knife. He was faster than I expected and was on me before I could pick up my knife. The Mark-thing clutched my shoulders, but I was able to push it away and grab a bedside lamp. I swung the lamp, made contact with his head, and scrambled across the bed, but he—no, it managed to grab my ankle and pull me down.

  I remembered moves from the self-defense class my mother sent me to in high school, and managed to twist out of its grip and run into the closet. But I couldn’t shut the door. There was a damn pillow in the way. I kicked out the stupid fluffy object and tried, once more, to shut the door, but it was too late. That awful, disgusting it-Mark had me trapped in the closet. What a stupid, stupid, move on my part. I should’ve hopped over it and gone for the hallway.

  The thing jumped on top of me, pushed me to the closet floor. All I could think about was how I didn’t want to die, not like this. Then I felt Mark’s teeth sink into my hip. I could feel him take a giant bite out of my flesh. The pain went through my body like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It felt like someone had shot me up with hot lava.

  My next thought was that I was dead. I knew I was a goner, thinking of Ara and how she changed, but I wasn’t going to go without a fight. I kicked Mark off of me, and managed to get to my feet. I picked up the lamp, and beat his skull as hard as I could. Over and over again, I whaled at his head. Finally, I heard a crack and he stopped moving. I did it. I killed that freaking thing and now I had to kill myself.

  October 22nd

  304 Swandeen

  Haverlyn Village

  My side ached like it was roasting under a blowtorch and my body filled with a radiant heat, making me swoon from the warmth. I touched my hip, where the zero’s teeth had sunk in, and where I should have felt flesh, I felt bone and blood. The pain was searing and unrelenting; coursing its way through my body in giant heart-beat like waves.

  Too many paths were running through my head, I didn’t know which one to take. Instinct told me to go for the medical supplies to try and patch myself up, but I didn’t have enough time. If Ara’s change was a guideline, I’d be a zero in less than five minutes, which told me I needed to find something to scramble my brain—fast.

  I thought about jumping off the balcony, but was afraid my brain would survive and my bones would be broken. Visions of spending eternity in a bush flashed through my mind. I would have to poke a sharp object through my eyeballs to reach the inside of my skull, something like a fire poker or a shish kabob skewer. I closed the door to the bedroom where dead-Mark lay, and staggered to the kitchen where I found the perfect tool, a diamond-steel knife sharpener.

  By now the throbbing, searing pain was so bad that I could barely hold the tool in my hand. I realized there was no way that I was going to be able to poke the thing through my eyeball, and into my brain. Even if I had the strength, I was not one to ever consider taking my own life. I gave up and decided to address the bite itself, t
o see if I could fix it up in the bathroom.

  After I stumbled to the bathroom, I slid my yoga pants down to my knees. The bite showed a perfect set of human teeth marks right around the bone in my hip. There was still skin in the center, making it look like a horseshoe. I thought it would be able to heal. Given that I only had about three minutes left before I turned into an undead-thing, I scoffed at the idea of healing, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  I found some alcohol, gauze and a whole bunch of Steri-Strips to hold the wound together. I dabbed on the alcohol with a cloth and clenched my teeth in pain. Then I did my best to tape the skin back together with the Steri-Strips and wrapped the whole thing in gauze. I staggered to Ned’s bedroom, crawled into his bed and under the covers, hoping the virus would take me fast.

  I woke later by the setting sun coming into Ned’s room. Tons of time must have passed because I left my apartment in the morning. I still felt like myself and I was in a whole bunch of pain. I loved the pain. It was a sure sign that I was still me. I knew those crazy-things down there didn’t feel anything close to pain. But I felt it. My body hurt like I had been boiled alive in hot water, which meant I had lived through a zero’s bite.

  I staggered to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I made a few faces to be absolutely positive that I was still me and then I took some of the Vicodin Mark had in his medicine cabinet. I grabbed a bottle of antibiotics, thanked God for medical students, and took a couple of those pills as well. I was not infected and would do anything to remain that way.