Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel (12 page)

She smiled with interest.

“416 stainless steel, fluted, twenty six inch barrel, bullet guiding muzzle, one hundred percent ambidextrous thumbhole,” Brady said, pointing at various parts of the weapon. He smirked, knowing he had her attention, even if only for a moment. “QRBP! It means quick release breech plug, reversible hammer Spur, crush zone recoil pad, dura-sight integral scope mount and fiber optic sights. That rifle, my little lady, is a real piece a work, she is.”

“Wow, Mr. Bingham, you really do know a lot about guns,” Stephanie acknowledged.

“We’ll have to see about gettin’ ya some ammo for that there rifle too. It’s a beaut. Unfortunately, I ain’t got what she needs in the way of ammo,” he said, tapping the rifle. Brady turned back around in his seat. Raising one hand, he said, “Take a right, right here, Christopher. Gas station shouldn’t be much farther. It’ll be coming up on the left in a bit.”

“You can just call me Chris, Mr. Brady.” 

“Well then,
Chris
, my boy. You can cut the mister nonsense while we’re all at it. You know, I never did recollect why it is people go shortenin’ their names like that. A name’s a name. Nancy’s the same way. She sure does get redder than red around the ears when you call her Nancy, one too many. Just leave it at good old Nan. That’s the way she likes it, I recon. What’s the difference anyway, really?”

“I don’t know. I’ve just always been called Chris.”

“But, Christopher is your full name, right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hey now, don’t be making no habits with that sir business. Just ‘cause I’m round the bend to sixty don’t mean nothin’. Good old Brady’ll do just fine. No longer, no shorter. Just the way it was intended to be.”

Chris laughed. “Yeah, I think I can manage that. Definitely, don’t see Steve having any problems with the yes sir, no sir business. I don’t think I have ever heard him say yes sir to anybody.”

Steve reached up from the backseat and popped Chris in the back of the head with an open hand. “Eat my butt…” he grumbled. “I have too!”

Despite the situation and his losses, Chris kind of felt good. Something about the harmless act of simple conversation put him at ease. It made him forget about the circumstances and about Mark, Tennessee, and his parents. He really liked having the Bingham’s around. They just came across, well, as simply American. He couldn’t think of any other way to put it. Just good people.

“So, if you and Steve here are from Tennessee, then what brings ya’ll to our neck of the woods?” Nan leaned forward in her seat to get a better look at Steve, assuming he might also have something to add to the conversation.

“They’re in a band!” Stephanie smirked with her rifle between her legs.

“Oh, is that right? Dearest, you hear that? We got ourselves a couple of famous boys in the car.” Nan suddenly lit up with excitement. She got so excited that a small fit of coughs came out. Covering her mouth, she said, “Sorry about that. My throat is really dry. So tell me about this music stuff.”

Chris had only just met her, but he could already tell that she was a people person. She was more than likely the type of lady that brought groups together. She may have not enjoyed hunting, like Brady, but it was apparent that the time spent around the campfire telling stories was what made her come to life. Nan was definitely the type of person who thrived on community and Chris could tell by the way she lit up, when conversation started to really gear up. She loved company. On the other hand, Brady seemed more reserved. It was hard to read him. He was calm, yet tense all at the same time.
Who wouldn’t be at a time like this, though?
The world around them was chaotic and it seemed like there was no one left to trust. It was a guess, but the old man’s guard was probably still up and Chris couldn’t blame him. Chris’ guard sure as hell was up. He didn’t know who he could trust. If it wasn’t for the redneck couple’s older age, Chris couldn’t help but wonder if he would have had trouble with them like those people last night stocking up on booze. Old age did settle most people down and Chris was glad they weren’t the rowdy type.

“Yep, that’s right. We are famous, dude. Been touring non-stop for the last three years or something. Name a state, we’ve probably been there!” Steve puffed out his shirtless chest with pride. “We had a record contract in the works and everything! It was pretty freaking sweet.”

“What’s the band’s name?” Stephanie asked.

“Ms. Percy and the Holy Ghost traveling Band,” Steve boasted.

“That’s kind of long, don’t you think?” Stephanie said with disapproval.

“Doesn’t matter when you’re as famous as we are,” Steve countered.  

“He is totally over playing it,” Chris said. “Yeah, we are, I mean, were in a folk band with my cousin, Mark. We toured constantly. Even had a show booked in this area for last night, but we had a change of plans. What with the end of the world and all of that. This tour was going to end up taking us all the way into California in a few months. But that seems like it’s kind of a done thing now. Really sucks!”

“And where’s your cousin now? Mark, was it?” Brady shifted in his seat, his long legs almost pressed against the dash.

“He’s dead.” Chris sighed heavily. His mind raced with images of the blunt baseball bat crashing down on that dead lady’s head right after she attacked. The blood went everywhere. “Before we made it to Stephanie’s place last night, we were attacked. He didn’t make it.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, hon.” Nan reached up rubbing on Chris’ shoulder from the backseat.

“Me too, Nan. Me too.” Chris’ eyes started watering up.

“Yeah, Chris says he even saw Mark turn. Like that freaking Timmy kid. Pretty fucked up if you ask me,” Steve said. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed the lens on his pants leg. “Totally bizarre, dude. You get bit, or in that kid’s case, scratched, and it’s a done deal. Going to end up one of them for sure. It’s only a matter of time! You think somebody would be out here cleaning this shit up already, man. All these people walking around rotting up the place. We’re just asking to get an infection and junk.” He stared out the backseat window, as if the brutal truths out in the street proved him right.

They did. 

Chris would have snapped at Steve’s disrespect, but something else caught his eye. Chris wasn’t sure, but for a brief millisecond he could have sworn he saw Nan’s eyes grow wide with panic from what Steve said. Just as soon as the expression had appeared, it disappeared. He looked away from her in the rearview mirror and back toward the street ahead.  

“There she is,” Brady said with a dramatic gesture of his flannel-covered arm. “Looks pretty much clear to me.”

Chris slowly pulled into the gas station. The convenience store was empty. Chris’ heart raced as he scanned the area for the dead. He didn’t see any, at least, not at first. The windows were shattered and merchandise littered the parking lot right outside the building’s entryway. The street behind them was silent. Loose paper fluttered in the air against the cool afternoon breeze. It wasn’t nearly as hot as it had been earlier, which only meant one thing. It was going to be dark very soon. The streetlights flickered as they came to life. Chris saw this as a good sign. The power wasn’t out; not yet anyway. His stomach grumbled in a loud and long protest of hunger.

“Ffff . . . Tell me about it.” Steve grimaced, having heard Chris’ stomach complain. “Time to freaking eat, boss!” 

After quickly pulling the vehicle up next to one of the pumps farthest from the store entrance, two zombies came into view from one side of the building. Two undead aggressors had spotted the car. Other than that, the place seemed void of all activity. There were no dead in the streets and the last set of zombies they had past were more than half a mile up the road. Sure, they were probably headed toward the gas station, having followed the car, but there was time enough to get gas and get out.

Something to snack on probably wouldn’t hurt either
, Chris thought.

“We need to stay quiet, you guys.” Chris calmly opened his door, popping the latch for the gas tank and stepping out.

Just as he stepped out of the backseat, Steve pulled his handgun free, aiming it at the two ghouls heading toward them. With weapon aimed, he set his sights on the closest one. Before he could pull the trigger, Chris reached up and pushed the gun down.

“What part of stay quiet did you not get? We start making a lot of racket and we’ll be surrounded,” Chris whispered looking around the lot. 

“He’s right, boy.” Brady stepped out of the car. His short gray combed over hair flapped in the light wind. “Less racket, the better chance we got of gettin’ outta this.” Brady set his rifle down in the front passenger seat, and then checked the safety on his side arm. With the gun still strapped in place at the hip, he pulled out a large Bowie knife. “I’ll see about some privacy.” With the hefty blade shining against the setting sun, he skirted toward the oncoming threat. The two ghouls broke away from the building’s edge in their pursuit and started walking right at Brady. Brady quietly eased away from the car toward them.   

“Hey man, I think it’s freaking sweet and all that junk. But don’t you think Rambo’s a bit old for this shit?” Steve said, pocketing his pistol. “Seriously, dude. What if the old fart has like a heart attack or something?”

Chris and Steve looked on as Brady made his way across the lot toward the two creatures.

“I’m sure he can manage. I highly doubt that if he wasn’t physically up to it, he would just take off on us like that and leave Nan behind. He seems level headed enough to me. He’s fine. Just be thankful we came across them. He’s saved our asses twice already!” Chris scanned the parking lot again in fear that others may have taken notice. He didn’t see anything. “Look, go in there and see about getting the pumps turned on, all right? I’m a better shot then you are, so I’m going to hold back and keep an eye out. Make sure things don’t get too crowded.” He pointed toward the gas station building and its scattered merchandise that was seeping through the doorway.

“Yeah, right! And go in there all by myself. Fuck that.” Steve protested and stepped aside so that Stephanie could get out of the car.

“I’ll go with you,” Stephanie sighed.

“No.” Chris said.

“Look, if he wants to be a baby about it, then I will go with him. It’s not that big a deal.”

“I am not being a baby, Stephanie. I just think that it’s not smart to go off alone.” Steve stuttered, while adjusting his eyewear. 

“Brady seems to be handling himself just fine alone. No reason you can’t manage, Steve,” Chris protested. “It’s okay if you’re scared to go by yourself. I’ll go with you. Stephanie, you stick right here and watch the pump, okay?”

“Sure thing,” she said. Then without Chris’ approval and rifle in hand, she took off toward the store entrance.

“Stephanie, don’t be stupid!” Chris called out.

“Right behind you!” Steve said. He darted around the car following close behind.

“Steve…no, wait. Seriously guys…Shit!”

“She’ll be fine, dear,” Nan said, struggling to get out of the car, her robust frame not making it easy.

“Ha! It’s not Stephanie that I’m worried about.”

“Yes, it is,” she said. “I see the way you look at her.” Nan finally freed herself from the car and made it around to the pump to where Chris was standing. “And Steve’s a big boy. He may act childish, but he’s a grown man. He’ll be fine.”

“Oh yeah, so you can read people. Is that it?” Chris asked, pulling the nozzle from the pump.

“I guess you can say it’s a gift, dear. It’s called people watching. When you get to be as old as me, there ain’t much else to do. And I’m proud to say I’ve gotten pretty darn good at it too.”

Chris watched as Nan huddled tight in her jacket standing next to him. She held back a violent cough. It had cooled a lot with the sun ready to set and it was starting to get dark, but it hadn’t gotten that cold. “You all right, Nan?”

“You know, she looks at you just the same,” Nan said, dodging the question.

“Oh really, how so?” Chris grinned, but tried to hide it.

“Come now, you seem like an educated young man. Don’t play dumb. Have you thought about telling her how you feel?”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, Nan. She is really freakin’ cute and all that, but hell we just met last night. Not to mention all this shit going on around us. Doesn’t seem like the right place or time for that matter. Besides, what the hell would I say anyway? I’d just come across like a total creep.”

“Love comes at the most inopportune times, sweetie. That’s life. Brady and me, we got married a week after we met and been married almost thirty-eight years come October. That’s right, we probably got married younger than you are now.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t dealing with the end of the fucking world either, Nan.” Chris leaned against the hood of the car, eyeing the gas station building. He couldn’t see any other movement inside other than that of his friends and was relieved having not heard any screaming or shots fired yet.

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be bold about what you’re feeling. I see it written all over your face when you look at her. You don’t want to lose her and that’s natural, honey.”

“What’s natural?” Brady walked up to the car, wiping blood from his knife onto his khaki work pants. Behind him, the two ghouls lay unmoving on the pavement. There was very little blood.

Chris was surprised as he looked over to see the two creatures immobilized. He hadn’t even heard a thing. This old fart even had stealth on his side. Chris wondered who he was and where he had gotten this training. 

“Dang, man. Maybe Steve’s right. You are Rambo!”

“No, I’ve just served my time is all. Did two stints in the green, right about the time old Nan and me tied the knot.” Brady glanced down at the knife, satisfied that most of the blood had been removed. He smoothly slid the knife back into its sheath. He asked again, “What’s natural, now?”

“Chris here thinks he shouldn’t talk to that Stephanie girl cause of the circumstances.” Nan waved at the lot around them.   

Brady laughed. “Son, we were in the middle of a war, for Christ sakes, when I dropped the question on old Nan here. It’s now or nothin’, boy. Hell, tomorrow you could be in the same situation as that cousin a yours, Mark, right? Knock on wood!”