POWERED
Book 1: ASCENSION
by
Zachary Stone
© 2013 Zachary Stone. All rights reserved.
http://www.zacharystonebooks.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as being real. Any resemblance to actual events, or people is entirely coincidental.
Other Books By Zachary Stone
Don’t Dare Call Them Zombies, Books 1-4
Book 1: Aisle 13
Book 2: Church Bells
Book 3: Deadly Dose
Book 4: Blood Ties
Chapter 1
“Darn it,” I said, after dropping another slick, wet dish onto the hard tile floor.
Thankfully, it didn’t break. I reached down, picked it up, and placed it into the large industrial sink full of soapy water.
“You alright, Eli?” my co-worker asked as he brought me another cart load of dirty plates, glasses, and silverware.
I’m okay . . . just tired.”
“You better be more careful,” he said. ”They’ll write you up if you break stuff.”
“I am being careful,” I insisted.
“Not careful enough, it looks like,” he said. “Anyway, why did you beg to work a double today?”
“I need the money,” I answered.
I continued scraping and pre-washing the seemingly unending mountain of dirty dishes. My back ached, my feet were burning, and the cracked skin of my hands stung. Despite my exhaustion, I pressed on to get through the shift. The paycheck at the end of the week would be worth the hard work, I hoped.
While loading the mostly-clean dishes into the power washer, I could hear that the kitchen was becoming even busier. The sounds were familiar -- cooks were rushing to prepare orders and waitresses were running back and forth, shouting out orders, and picking up plates of food. It seemed the noises never ended.
Peering through an opening that allowed for a view of the dining room, I could see many of our regular customers along with a large number of people I didn’t recognize – most of them were probably tourists.I couldn’t help but notice that many of them seemed to have a date or spouse to dine with. Being single, it made me jealous. I ate most of my meals alone.
Trying to focus on my job instead of staring at the good looking women that filled the restaurant, I continued rinsing dishes. It must be nice to have someone in your life to go out to dinner with.
After about an hour of nonstop rinsing I heard a voice from across the kitchen. “Eli, do you want to take a thirty minute break?” It was my boss, Mr. Long.
I knew I’d just spend the thirty minutes of idle time contemplating my singleness, so I declined.
“Okay,” he shouted back. “But at least clock out for five minutes. I don't want the labor board after me for not giving my employees breaks.”
“Alright,” I said.
I wiped my soggy, wrinkled hands on a towel and headed towards the time clock. By the time I’d made it half way there, I saw Danielle walking towards the kitchen window with a notepad of new orders. She smiled when she saw me.
“I didn't expect to see you here tonight, Eli,” she said.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“You’ve worked every day this week,” she said.
“Well, I need the money,” I said.
“Are you going on break?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just need some caffeine in me and I'll be good to go.”
“Hold on,” she said. “I'll join you.”
As I walked to the time clock, she quickly dashed to place her orders with the kitchen. I clocked out, and a moment later she did the same. We both walked together to the shabby break room in the back corner of the building. A pot of coffee was already brewed, so I poured two cups, handed Danielle one, and sat down at the small, graffiti covered table.
“The elixir of life,” I said, before taking a sip.
“You’re going to get sick if you don't get some rest,” she said, her dark brown eyes peering at me.
“I have bills to pay,” I said.
“We all have bills to pay,” she said. “But you’re killing yourself!”
“Well, I'm also saving up to get something special for Candice,” I said.
“You still have a thing for her?” she asked.
Her question made my mind flash back a couple years to my college days. I’d met Candace in my calculus class, and I quickly became best friends with her. A few months later, I was in love with her; but sadly she didn’t feel the same way.
“Yes, I do,” I said.
“When was the last time you talked to her?” she asked.
“Probably about two months ago,” I said. “We went and had lunch at the Savannah mall.”
“Did she give you any sign that she was interested in you?” she asked.
“I don't know,” I said. “She told me that we should go out again sometime.”
“I bet you sat there and listened to her talk about all her problems,” she said. “Let me guess, she was talking about her latest boyfriend . . .”
“Well, she was breaking up with some guy she met from out of town,” I said.
“So how many guys has she dated and broken up with since you met her?” she asked.
“I don't know, probably several,” I said.
“And when does she call you and want to hang out?” she asked.
“Usually, between her relationships or when she’s breaking up with someone,” I answered.
“I know you, Eli. You’re a good guy and would do anything for that girl. Don't waste your money on her,” she said.
“Well, all I need is for her to just give me a chance, and I’ll do what it takes to make it work out,” I said.
“All that girl will do is break your heart,” she said.
“You’re probably right. She’s already broken my heart and I’m sure she’ll do it again,” I said.
I felt a wave of sadness go through me as I realized that, most likely, Candace would never love me.
“Forget about her,” she said. “I'll set you up on a date with one of my friends.”
Her offer was tempting, but Candice was still on my mind. I couldn’t just give up on her, not yet.
I took another sip of my coffee. It tasted a bit stale. The coffee the restaurant provided us workers was cheap and generic -- the customers got the good stuff.
“I appreciate you trying, Danielle,” I told her. “You're a good friend.”
“If I weren’t engaged, I might be asking you out,” she said with a smile.
The idea of dating Danielle was also tempting. She was always nice to me and was very good looking with her long, black hair, but there was no way I would even try to do anything to mess up her engagement. She was a kind and caring friend. If I made a move on to her, I would be a scuzzball of the highest order.
“That means a lot to me,” I said.
“I mean it,” she added, raising her eyebrows.
I looked up at a clock in the corner of the room and noticed that we’d been talking for ten minutes.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” I said.
“Me too,” she said.
We quickly finished up our drinks in silence and left the break room.
For the next several hours I worked feverishly in the kitchen. By closing time, I was exhausted. It took every ounce of will power to stay awake as I clocked out. Walking away from the time clock, I could feel and hear water sloshing in my soaking wet shoes and noticed that I had a slight wheeze as I breathed.
I opened my locker door and reached for a bottle of peroxide. I dreaded the pain that was to come, but I wanted to get it over w
ith. I opened the bottle and poured the clear liquid over my hands. Instantly, white bubbles started to appear where my skin had cracked. The pain was intense as the antiseptic burned away any bacteria that might be lingering in my wounds. I leaned my head against the locker door and gritted my teeth as I allowed the peroxide to do its job. A few moments later, I grabbed my jacket and cell phone, closed my locker door, and walked outside.
Out in the alleyway behind the restaurant I noticed how dark it was. There were no streetlights back here, no moon in the sky, and I couldn’t see any stars. I had a long walk across downtown Savannah to get to my apartment, and I needed to get started.
Trying to stay alert, I walked out of the alley and onto the sidewalk of the main street though town. I ignored the storefronts and signs as I made my way home. Although it was late, there were still a number of people around. As I walked by the park I noticed a group of tourists chatting away. One woman in their group glanced at me; I nodded my head in acknowledgment and walked on.
Far ahead, I could hear that music was still playing in the city market. The many shops, restaurants, and bars in that part of downtown would still be open for some time. Most likely, they’d stay open until the band called it a night. I pondered stopping at Super Go Go's Pizza for a quick slice of their meat lover’s special. However, despite my stomach starting to growl, I was too tired to eat. I could make a sandwich after I’d got home and crashed for a while.
To bypass the city market area, I decided to turn left at Wickers Avenue and then circle around to my apartment. I made the turn and continued walking. Maybe Danielle was right. Too much work wasn’t good for me – I was almost falling asleep as I walked. After walking for some time, I realized that I wasn’t where I should have been. My exhaustion had got the better of me, and I’d missed the street that led me to my apartment.
Frustrated with myself for being so stupid, I stopped and looked around. I was in a very different part of town than I intended. I could see large, historic homes on both sides of the street –definitely not my part of town. A mist was filling the air as I decided to turn around and retrace my steps.
As I did so I saw a woman walking slowly towards me. She didn’t look well – it seemed as if she was limping. Her face was very pale and her eyes were darting around. Her white dress looked torn and tattered and I could see she had very long fingernails.
I took a step back. Although the woman looked frail and wasn’t overly tall, I got an uneasy feeling about her – for some reason it seemed like she might be dangerous, but she also looked like she might be in trouble. After several seconds of looking at her, I thought I should say something.
“Are you alright?” I asked hesitantly as she limped towards me.
She didn’t respond.
As she got closer I took a step backwards off the sidewalk and onto the empty street to keep a safe distance between us.
I cleared my throat.
“Are you alright?” I asked more loudly. “Do you need help?”
She looked directly at me and to my great shock, snarled.
I wasn't going to take any chances. I turned around and started to run, but before I’d traveled more than a few feet I was knocked forward to the ground. The concrete was rough and gritty on my hands and face. I rolled over and pushed myself up to a sitting position. For an instant I saw her standing above me. It was almost like she was trying to make a decision. Then a second later she swooped towards my neck.
I tried my best to hold back the growling beast that was on top of me. Her pure black eyes were terrifying as she tried to bite into my flesh. Her two long fang-like teeth, as white as snow, glistened in the streetlight.
“Get off me!” I shouted as I tried to escape her grip.
She seemed particularly strong for having such a slight build, and I was weak from a double shift at the restaurant. After only a few moments of wrestling with the woman, she managed to sink one of her teeth into my neck. With all my remaining strength, I pushed her thrashing body back.
With one hand still around her neck, I reached into my pocket, took out my key chain, positioned one of the keys between the fingers of my fist, and punched her in the face. The metal key pierced her right eye and blood spurted out.
I pulled back my fist, and she let out a deafening scream. With her hands now covering her face, I took the opportunity to get back to my feet and run. I panted hard as I tried to put as much distance as possible between me and the crazed woman.
Reaching to my neck I could feel the bite wound. Oddly, it didn’t hurt very badly. If anything, it felt a bit cold and numb. However, the running was making the bleeding worse. I needed a place to hide and calm down.
I slowed down and scanned my surroundings. A short distance ahead, I saw a house with a sign that read Juanita's Bed and Breakfast. I thought about entering the large Victorian home and renting a room, but I figured they’d see the blood on me and call the police. Most likely, they’d call an ambulance as well. That would mean more cash I’d have to shell out – ambulance rides aren’t cheap – and hours of explaining why I gouged the woman's eye.
Instead of going to the front door, I saw a path that would lead around to the back of the house. I managed to make it to the rear side of a small shed. I sat down on the grass and caught my breath.
“Oh no!” I exclaimed as I realized the woman's blood had gotten all over me. The skin of my hands were cracked and scraped both from washing dishes and falling on the rough cement. With her blood all over them, I realized that if she had some kind of disease I could now be infected.
I thought about trying to find a faucet to rinse my hands and face, but my legs were stiff as boards. My body had spent every trace of its remaining energy getting to the relative safety of the shed; it didn’t have the ability to move another inch.
Touching my neck once again, it seemed as if the bleeding of the bite wound had slowed, but since I couldn’t see the bite I couldn't tell for sure.
I pulled out my phone and thought about who I should try to call. But before I could decide, I fell asleep.
Chapter 2
“What are you doing on my property?”
I tried to open my eyes to see who was talking to me, but the sun was very bright and I couldn’t see well.
“Uh, uh,” I stuttered.
For a moment, I didn’t know where I was or why I was sitting on the grass, but I then remembered the horrible events of the previous night.
“You better start talking, or I'm calling the cops,” a woman’s voice said.
With my eyes finally adjusting to the light, I looked and saw a tall black woman who looked to be in her sixties standing above me.
“I'm sorry,” I murmured. “I was attacked last night walking home from work.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“I got turned around trying to get to my apartment, and I saw a woman. She started walking towards me. The next thing I know she bites me,” I said.
“Are you telling me the truth?” she asked.
“I promise you, I swear. I'm not lying. I was running away from her and I needed a place to hide,” I said. “I was going to rent a room from you, but I thought you’d get the cops involved.”
I turned my head and showed her the bite mark.
“Ouch! Do you want me to call an ambulance?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I can't afford a hospital bill.”
“Can you stand?” she asked.
“Let me try,” I said.
I managed to stand up onto my feet but still felt exhausted and weak.
“Come on inside,” she said. “You can wash off some and have breakfast.”
“Thank you,” I responded.
I followed the woman through the back door of the bed and breakfast. Looking at the inside of the house, I could tell it was kept meticulously clean; every rug, wall, and piece of furniture looked spotless. She led me to a bathroom, and I began to try and scrub off as much of the blood as I could. Above
the sink was a medicine cabinet with a mirror on the door. Upon opening it I saw a first aid kit. Thankfully, it contained peroxide, iodine, and bandages.
After wiping the blood off my neck, I soaked the single puncture wound with peroxide and iodine. Interestingly, the wound was only then beginning to sting. I placed some gauze on my neck and taped it in place. Next, I closed the drain and poured the remainder of the peroxide and iodine into the sink. I plunged my hands into the liquid and felt waves of pain shoot from them. Keeping them in there was important, though. I might be saved from getting a deadly disease.
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