Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel (8 page)

BOOK: Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel
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“Considering?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been in a lot of houses.”

“I get it. The traveling music couch-surfers thing? I have… well, I had a few college friends kind of doing the same thing. Although, maybe, not as intense as you guys. You definitely don’t seem like you’re from around here and the creeper van kind of gives it away. I can spot a band a mile away. With that new venue across from where I work, I see a lot of music types come in from out of town. You guys tour a whole lot or something?”

“Yep. Crashed in our share of living rooms over the years, but seriously, I really like what you’ve done with the place.”

“Thanks. I painted and decorated it myself. I want to be an interior designer. Going to college for it.” She shifted in her seat again trying to get comfortable. “Really haven’t done anything with the rest of the house though. School and work have kept me pretty busy.” 

“Nice. I went to college for a hot minute,” Chris said, setting the computer aside. “I didn’t really care for it. Mostly my mom’s idea.”

“Chris is a mama’s boy for sure,” Steve cut in, while flipping through the pages of the yearbook.

Ignoring him, Chris continued. “I was going for business management and marketing. Lasted like two semesters I think.”

“Really? Why’d you drop out?”

“Just didn’t feel the need. Everything they were teaching was already way outdated. By the time I got the degree, the information would have been a total bust. Not like college is worth a damn now, though.” Chris glanced at the window. “A lot has probably lost its value already.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with an emphatic sigh. “It totally sucks, because I was literally like three credits away from finishing.”

“Dang.” Chris lifted an eyebrow, impressed.  “A four year or the two year?” he asked.

Before she could answer, Steve interrupted. “I’m getting in the shower. You two are boring the hell out of me.” He stood up from the couch, set the yearbook down, and quietly left the room.

Chris left his seat and walked over to the window. “You’ll have to excuse Steve. He doesn’t understand what it feels like to work for something.”

The window overlooked the front yard. He pulled the curtain away enough to look out with one eye. The streetlights lit the dead-end road dimly. Way off in the distance, the fire hydrant continued gushing water into the air. He could see a few of the undead wandering aimlessly in the distance. Had his plan not worked, the dead would have surely made their way back to the house by now. He felt relieved. As long as they stayed hidden, they might have a chance.

He thought of his parents, hoping like hell that they had found a way to survive too. He imagined them safely locked away at home in Tennessee, and hoped they were thinking of him and his safety. He wanted to talk to them so badly; he wanted to go home.

Over the last several years, home had been mostly just a memory. He missed out on many family events. His mom and dad’s thirtieth anniversary, both of their retirement parties, and even last Thanksgiving’s family reunion, which only happened once every four years. He wished he could relive it all over and spend more time with them rather than being on tour so much. He loved music and the road, but now felt like he had missed out on what really mattered.

“Four.”

“What?”

“It was the four year degree, not the two year program,” Stephanie said.

“Man, that does suck.” Chris stepped away from the window and made his way around the room looking at the family photos and various art pieces that hung among them. “Is this one you?” Chris pointed to a young lady and an older man dressed up from the Civil War era. The man wore a confederate soldier uniform and carried a sword. The young lady stood wearing a long puffed out dress with lots of frill and lace. Chris had seen pictures like those before. It was a gimmick used to sell photos at carnivals and theme parks. Chris had never taken one himself, but realized that it would make a pretty solid promo photo for the band. Mark and Steve had shot the idea down.

“Yeah. That’s me and my dad.” Stephanie shifted awkwardly on the couch, but Chris didn’t notice.

“Dude, he looks freaking old as crap,” Chris chuckled. “Old enough to be your granddad. That’s crazy!”

“He’s dead,” she said in a low voice.

The room filled with an awkward silence. Chris pretended to be interested in the other pictures and moved about the room. Most pictures were of Stephanie and her friends. An occasional childhood photo of her and her old man were mixed in, but Chris didn’t see any that might contain her mother. The tension was so thick that he wasn’t sure what to say. He felt like such a jackass.  

After a few quiet minutes, she finally broke the ice. “It’s not your fault. Everybody thought he was my grandpa. He died when I was seventeen.”

“Man . . . what happened?”

“He died of old age, actually. He was seventy-six. That’s not old-old, but it was his time, I guess.”

“And your mom?” Chris made his way back to the couch.

“Died giving birth to me. My dad said I was his little miracle.”

“Holy crap,” Chris said softly. “That would have made your mom like sixty something when she had you, right?”

“She was quite a bit younger than my dad, but she was up there in age for someone to be popping out babies. My dad said her body was too weak and frail for the delivery. I never met my mom. I don’t even have any pictures. Before I was old enough to remember . . . my dad . . . got rid of them all, because they made him sad to look at her.”

“Wow, that’s pretty wild. At least, you ended up doing well for yourself despite all of that,” Chris said gesturing at the house around them.

“It was my parent’s. I grew up here, and was even born in this house. I inherited it when my dad passed away. He said that I should keep it and raise my family here too.” Her eyes grew wide and they filled with tears.

“Well, your dad sure sounds like he was a great person. Wish I could have met him. Is that what you wanted to do, raise a family here?”

“He was definitely something and honestly, I don’t know if I want to raise my family here. Traveling seems fun,” she said wiping away her tears.

Chris sat down and told Stephanie a few exciting stories about his travels and some of the crazy people he had met along the way. The mood lifted again. Stephanie seemed to bury her emotions as she had probably managed to do for all of her life. Chris couldn’t imagine not knowing his mother; let alone not knowing what she looked like. That just made him think about his mom more, and about the things he loved about her. She made the best homemade pizza, had the loudest laugh, and was so easy to pick on that he couldn’t leave her alone. He could never imagine a life without her. He felt sorry for Stephanie and wondered if she even had anyone left to call family. It didn’t look that way. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Stephanie asked.

“Yes, please. We might as well figure out the sleeping arrangements, too. It’s got to be getting super late.” Chris picked up his computer to give the password a try. It still showed a wireless signal was available.

Stephanie left the living room and headed off into the kitchen. Chris wondered how long it would be before the power would go out. The password for the internet worked, but just like the cellphone, which still had full bars, nothing was happening. The internet was done. Chris couldn’t help but imagine what it must have been like to book tours back before the internet. Must have been way more work than it was worth. All the phone calls and going to shows just for the sake of networking. Setting dates was now just point and click. First come, first serve, but all that was at its end. There would be no more touring, and no more booking or online networking, just survival. He wondered if the National Guard or someone would show up and eventually clean all of this crap up. Out of frustration, he slammed the laptop shut and then put it in his pack.

“Internet not working?” Stephanie stepped back into the room with two drinks on ice.

“No go…”

“Well, that’s lame. What did you need it for anyway? Not like people have a lot of free time right now to just be surfing the web and chatting the latest gossip. Although, I am pretty eager to know if Sheila, from my work, ended up getting with that guy the other night.”

“I know.” Chris stared down at his lap with a deep sigh. “Just hoping to get hold of my parents. That, and maybe find out what else is going on out there. People have to be alive. Someone has to. If we made it, there are others. I think we would be smart to find out what’s going on around us.”

“You’re thinking about going after them. Am I right?”

“Who? My parents?” Chris finally looked up from his lap. Stephanie reached out, handing him iced tea. “Well, yeah, it has crossed my mind. But it’s not like they’re just right up the road. And I couldn’t ask Steve or you to trek all the way to Tennessee with me risking your lives like that.”

“But what about his parents? Wouldn’t he want to find them or something?” Stephanie’s eyes grew curious.

“Between you and me, I honestly doubt it. Steve’s a great guy. Been my best friend since I can remember, but he is pretty self-centered. In the three years that we’ve spent on tour, I think he has spoken to his folks once or twice. And one of those times was to ask for money to get the tour van fixed.”

“But he’s you’re best friend. Friends are supposed to stick it out together,” she said.

“You would think. Anyway, I’m sure he’s a little preoccupied with his own goals right now,” Chris said, and gave her a wink.

She understood, and reared back in laughter, almost spilling her tea. “Ha! No chance in hell.”

“Not a chance it hell for what,” Steve said, as he walked in wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. He poked his finger in his ear to plunge out trapped water. His long hair was slicked back and it made his optical lenses appear twice as large on his thin face.

Stephanie held back her laughter and focused her gaze on Chris. A big grin grew on her blushing cheeks. 

Chris just smiled and lifted his drink in the air. “Stephanie makes a mean glass of tea. You should get one.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll take one,” Steve said, as he sat beside Stephanie. Finally, pulling his finger from his ear, he said, “So, what about hell and why is there no chance?” He kicked his legs up on the coffee table.

“Nothing,” Chris said.

“We were talking about pulling out the radio. We need to find out what’s going on out there,” Stephanie said, as she climbed over Steve’s legs to fetch him a drink.

The two men sat across from each other in silence. The lights were up just high enough to barley make out each other’s facial features, casting shadows that grew into children’s monsters. Chris felt that at any moment the front door would come crashing open and a dozen undead zombies would flood into the room and tear them to ribbons. His chest felt heavy.       

“Nice job on the hot water, douche bag.” Steve tossed a loose pillow across the couch at Chris.

“I do what I can,” Chris replied with a smile, blocking the pillow with his arms.  

When Stephanie came back into the living room, not only did she have a cup of tea for Steve, but two pillows, a set of blankets, and a small battery powered AM/FM radio. “Here you go,” she said balancing the glass of tea in her hand with the blankets. “The batteries in this thing may not work, but it’s worth a shot.”

After dialing through all of the channels, Chris was only able to find one that worked. The signal was weak and mostly static, but it came in clear enough. The three sat in the living room, listening intently. What they could make out was a repeated message. Stay indoors, stay calm, the National Guard is on alert, and a confirmation that the attackers were the dead returning to life.

Just when they thought they heard it all, a report that the National Guard was setting up safe zones, interrupted the broadcast. Air support would be available to transport the injured to triage centers for medical treatment. Of the half dozen shelter locations mentioned, Stephanie counted two that were near enough for them to consider.

“This may be the chance we were hoping for,” Stephanie said. “The military should be able to hold those things off until a final solution can be found.”

“And if a final solution isn’t found, what then? We made it out alive tonight, because we kept our heads down,” Chris said. “Those shelters are going to be overrun with people. You know what happens when large groups of people make a lot of noise. It’s like calling pigs to the trough. Sounds risky. What do you think, Steve?”

“Hell, don’t ask me.” Steve laid back on the couch, punching buttons on his cell phone. “Snake!” He waved the phone. “About to beat my high score! Finally.”    

“Look, Chris, I know you want to get home and see your parents. But maybe one of these shelters can help you get there,” Stephanie said.

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. I sense trouble.” Chris remembered the hooligans at the gas station. “People revert to animals under extreme stress.”

“That’s true, but it also can bring out the best as well.” Stephanie said.

Stephanie was right. Chris did want to go home. 

“Well, before we make any other move, I say we get some shut eye. We can talk about it in the morning. Maybe, there’ll be another update on the radio. We are safe here, so there should be no rush to hit the streets and put ourselves in harm’s way. We need clear heads to make an escape.”

“I can agree with that,” Stephanie nodded.

They decided that all of them would sleep in the same room. Stephanie retrieved a pillow and blanket for herself, and then joined the boys in the living room. Chris graciously gave up his spot for her, taking the floor instead of the couch. The house was pitch-black with all the lights turned off.

Faint moans of the dead drifted through the silence. Thoughts of the dead breaking in and attacking jolted Chris awake and his body fought to sleep. It was destined to be a restless night.

Chris eventually got up, dug through his backpack, and found the handgun. Stephanie tossed for a while. He wondered what it was that she was dreaming, but he was afraid that he already knew. He thought about waking her, but she soon settled back down. Steve lay motionless, not unlike he did while traveling in the van. He slept like a child without a worry in the world. A peaceful smile crept across his lips. Chris had known Steve long enough to know he was probably dreaming of a woman. More than likely, this time, it was Stephanie.       

BOOK: Epidemic of the Undead: A Zombie Novel
3.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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