POW! (Book 1): The Zombie Days (11 page)

"It's fine, Evelyn,” I said, cutting off Carolina as she opened her mouth to say something. “I don't need any apologies or thank yous. Your mom is just trying to protect you. No one should ever have to apologize for trying to do the right thing." I looked over at Carolina and nodded.

The other three guys came out of the building. Two more backpacks had now been added to our supply stash. And it was a good thing, too, as we were beginning to run low on food. It looked as though Kyle had refreshed his bag as well. I guessed there was no point in Mac keeping anything at home. There was nothing left for him in this place anymore.

"Are you guys ready?" I asked the group as they came down the steps.

"Are we ready for a little stroll in the woods?" Mac parrotted. "I don't see why not, man. What's the worst thing that could happen out there? Everything is already fucked wherever you happen to turn, so we might as well go ahead and embrace the shit that now is our lives," he said. We began our walk toward the woods on the opposite side of the town, which was a place that we hoped was not, and would not be, stained with blood as much of this camp now was.

"Man, what the fuck did y'all smoke up there? And more importantly, did Cliff get any?" I asked.

"Lay off of Cliff for a minute, man. He's havin' a rough day," Mac replied.

"I know, I know. Does he need to come to girls’ night out with me and Kyle? We've been having a rough few days, too. We sympathize, homeboy."

"Girls’ night out? Homeboy? What the fuck is wrong with you, guy?" Cliff still hadn’t learned to shut his mouth and play along.

"Guy? What the fuck is wrong with me? Check it out, dude. I'm trying to be nice, here, okay? This is just my way of handling shit, and you're not making that very easy for me. So, unless you want to have some problems, you'd better mellow the fuck out. We’re all having a bad day. We’ve all lost people and we’re all in the same shitty situation."

Cliff uttered something under his breath that made me want to lay him flat in the dirt, but I pretended it was just the wind I’d heard.

"Did you guys really grab anything to smoke? I've been dying for something to take the edge off. All this walking bullshit sucks a big fat pile of ass. And not in the good way, either. Ol' Kyle over here could use a good time."

"Calm down, Kyle,” I said. “This isn't the time or the place for a good time. That being said, when we do come to a good place at a good time, you know Big Daddy's got a surprise for you good little boys and girls."

Kyle lit up like a kid that just saw a mall Santa Claus. "Oh boy, what is it? What's it gonna be, Pete?! Oh! Oh! Is it pie?! I could even settle for some pie right about now!"

Pie did sound good. "You think I've kept pie in my backpack this whole damn time? Come on, man. It's not pie."

"Well then what is it, huh, Pete? What's in your big bag of tricks you've been carrying around with you all this time?"

"There's a time and a place, my friend. Remember, good things come to those who wait."

We passed through the camp’s gate, not that it was really of much use anymore. We were now in the town that had been abandoned some time ago.

It was creepy. Sure, most things were kind of creepy in this new world. I mean, there were zombies, for shit’s sake. But this place . . . it had a real Chernobyl feel to it. Everyone that had once lived here had either fled or died. And some of those who died rose up from their final resting place in order to bite the living and continue on the never ending cycle of death.

"Peter, I don't like the feel of this place too much," said Evelyn, clutching at my arm.

"I don't know if it's possible to like the feeling of this place,” I said. “It's kind of like being in an old concentration camp. It just feels wrong. You can sense the horror of all those that died here."

"What, are you all idiots? It's not just this place. It's this whole entire goddamn planet. The dead have risen. Welcome to hell! I can guarantee that you won’t enjoy your stay," cried Cliff.

No sooner had he finished voicing his awful view of the world than an arm came shattering through the window of the department store we were passing. It grabbed him before anyone could react. The creature had its jaws clamped firmly onto the back of Cliff's neck. It was too late for him.

I picked up my rifle and fired at the zombie, blowing a hole right through his temple. At the same time, another hole appeared in the Cliff’s forehead. I checked to make sure that my rifle wasn't on burst, and then I looked around.

"Damn it, Cliff. You should've made your peace while you had the chance," said Mac in a somber tone as he lowered his rifle.

“Everyone back away from that window, that building is not safe,” I said.

Chapter Thirteen

Red.

It's the all too familiar color of blood. It's the color of emotions like love, and hate, and anger. It’s the color of the wine that flowed so freely in the cups of early civilizations. The color has had such a large impact on humanity that people far more intelligent than I believe it to be the first color ever given a name. Red may even be the first color we were able to pick out from the black and white of our early days as a species. To show you all of the red that has been involved in this story, I would need a river to run red. The blood from a zombie isn't your average blood from getting a paper cut or skinning your knee while playing basketball. Their blood is old and dead. It looks almost black, but it isn’t. It's thick like molasses and smells disgusting . . . and it is absolutely red.

Cliff was the first person in our group to have gone down. No one was a fan of his, but no one wanted this for him. When the person you have to kill is just a faceless, soulless ghoul trying to murder everyone you love, it’s one thing. But I spoke to Cliff. I was rude to Cliff. I felt awful about how Cliff met his end.

"It's not your fault, Peter," Evelyn said, giving me a warm hug. She must have been able to read it in my face that I was going through something.

"I know it's not my fault, but that doesn't mean I feel good about it. He was one of us, part of the group, even if it was only for a very short time. He was going to help us out," I said as I rolled Cliff over to pull the backpack from his shoulders. "I just wish I—I don't know. I haven't seen someone
real
die in a long time, now. I guess it never gets any easier. I mean, it's not like Cliff and I were close, but . . . ugh. I just want this shit over with."

Kyle stepped up to me and slapped me across the face. "Come on, butthole, there's no time for this girly bullshit. Pull yourself together! We've got a situation here! If there's one loose zombie, there are probably more not too far from us right now. Let's get the fuck out of here before we meet them and we have another casualty to deal with!"

I shook my head and let his words sink in. "Thanks, bro. I needed that. There’s a time and a place, right? Let's go, guys." I swung Cliff’s backpack onto my stomach, as there was already a pack on my back. That little slap from Kyle was exactly what I needed to clear my head and focus on the situation at hand.

As we began walking from Cliff’s final resting place, we heard something from back in the department store.

"I, for one, vote that we skip inspecting that sound and just assume that it's bad for us and we continue on our damn way. Anyone opposed to this?" I asked.

Zombies started pouring through the shattered department store window. Luckily, some of them were unable to find proper footing and either tripped over Cliff or slipped and fell in his fresh, wet human blood. The ones behind them were unable to get out until those that were in front got up and got out of their way, so they just stood there like awkward kids at a junior high school dance.

"Alright, well, lucky for us, these moron zombies decided to cut us off from behind; and poorly at that,” I observed. “As long as no one trips and breaks a leg or some stupid shit like that, it looks like we can just keep walking onward. I'll keep an eye peeled behind us to make sure they aren't gaining on us, but we should be fine. No worries, kids."

I walked backwards behind the group for a few steps and it seemed like everything would be fine. That is, until I heard another window shatter ahead of our group.

I stopped in my tracks with my back still facing the group. "Tell me I'm just hearing shit. That was nothing, right? Someone just stepped on some broken glass?"

"We got problems, Pete," Kyle said.

That was about the last thing I wanted to hear. I turned around to see what they were seeing. About a half of a block ahead of us, zombies were shambling out of an old pizza joint. Their eyes were fixed on us. I felt like we were the prize in a zombie race.

I summarized the situation to the group so that we were all on the same page. "Okay, let's quickly assess the situation here. We've got zombies behind us pouring in from the left side of the street, and zombies pouring in from in front of us on the right side of the street. So, we’ll have to either fight our way through a shit ton of zombies in either direction, or turn out of their path. Does that sound about right?"

"Turn fuckin’ where, homie?” Kyle asked. “There are no streets between us and them."

I dropped the backpack I was wearing on my chest and swung around the one from my rear. I opened it up and from inside of it I withdrew the crowbar that I’d acquired earlier in the week. Then, I tossed the other backpack back onto my chest.

"I just so happen to have found the key to the city, guys. Lucky for us, eh? Now, as Kyle so eloquently put it, 'Turn fuckin’ where?'"

We all looked around at the shops that were surrounding us. Another restaurant? A clothing store? A taxidermist? Bingo!

"Gunsmith! Now!" I said to my team.

I plunged the crowbar into the door jamb, breaking the lock. I pushed the door in and sent everyone scurrying inside. Once we were all inside the building, we started piling heavy things in front of the door. The windows already had bars on them, which was a huge bonus. The bars were near enough together that there was no possible way to fit an upright corpse through them.

Once we were satisfied with the amount of debris blocking the front door, we got to work on the back door, piling heavy objects that would be of no use to us in front of it.

"Alright guys,” I began. “I think we’ll be safe for now, but we may have to wait a while until the necrophiliac’s orgy outside subsides a little before we can go on any further. I suggest you all take a load off and we’ll stay here for tonight. Everyone scavenge around and try to find anything useful for our day tomorrow. I'm not sure how it'll be in the morning, but now that they know we're in here, I'm sure they won't go too far. I'm going to head upstairs to see if there’s anything up there we can use or if there is an alternate exit that we may have to utilize in the morning. I'll be right back, kids."

I headed up the stairs. When I got up to the door I opened it up without a second thought. On the other side, waiting for me was one of them. It was the store owner, I could tell by his name badge that said:

EARL

OWNER

Goddamn it, Earl, I'm in no mood for your zombie bullshit right now.
I picked up my—hand?
Shit!
I must have set my rifle down while I was helping to barricade the door and forgotten to grab it. My First Sergeant would have been pissed right the fuck off at me. The beast had me in his arms. I stuffed his chest back with my left hand and tried to keep out of the path of his vicious zombie mouth as I groped at my waist, desperately searching for my blade. He let out the most vicious zombie scream that I’d ever heard in my life or even in my nightmares. I could smell the rot in his breath.

***CRACK***

***CRACK***

***CRACK***

"Fuck! It's on burst!" I heard Kyle shout. The zombie fell but, before he did, I saw Earl's eyeball explode right in front of my face. The other two rounds I felt hit the backpack that I was wearing on my front. I pulled it away to inspect the damage. Underneath of it I felt wet. I saw it dribbling off of me.

Red . . .

"PETER NO!!!" Cried Evelyn.

I lifted my shirt to inspect the damage. I began to laugh as everyone stood there; just staring intently at me, wondering just what the hell was going on.

"It's okay, guys! It's just a bottle of wine from the backpack! I'm fine, so no worries!"

"Bullshit no worries, man! I was looking forward to that bottle!" Mac said, looking more than a little let down by the thought that he was now without booze.

"Fear not, my friends. Since we're stuck here we may as well make the best out of it. I think it's time for a little bonding experience," I announced.

After dropping the wine soaked pack from my front, I flipped my backpack around to my front and dove my hand into it. From the bag, I withdrew a bottle of scotch. "Let's enjoy tonight, guys. The first drink is for Cliff." I opened the bottle. "To Cliff!" I raised the scotch and then took a swig. The slow descending burn was a lovely feeling. I walked down the steps and passed the bottle to Evelyn. Once the bottle was out of my hand I wrung out my shirt and dribbled a little puddle of wine onto the stairs.

"I'll be right back, guys. I still want to see what this upstairs area may hold in store for us."

I turned and began to walk back up the stairs.

"Not so fast!" Evelyn shouted behind me, following in my steps. "If you're going up there, you’re
not
going alone. After just now, I don't think it's such a good idea."

"And you're going to come protect me, is that it?" She nodded. "Alright, then. You might want to pass that bottle off before our own friends turn on you, though," I said with a laugh.

She took a big gulp from the bottle, pulled a face that made me want to laugh at her, headed back down the steps, and passed the bottle to Mac.

"I think that I’m ready whenever you are," she said as she skipped back up the steps behind me. I reached around to her back and slid my hand slowly down to her waistband to retrieve the pistol she had stowed there. I looked at the pistol and switched the safety on after noticing that it had not been previously engaged. Luckily, there was no round in the chamber at the time. I would really have to teach her about better weapon handling sometime soon.

I winked at her. "Now we're ready." I could tell she was excited, but I wasn't sure if it was from having alcohol, doing something dangerous, or just being with me. I grabbed her hand and we stepped through the door.

The floorboards creaked beneath our feet, causing Evelyn to squeeze my hand extra tight.

"Would you feel more comfortable following behind me?" I asked, teasing her.

"I'll be okay, just keep an eye out," she whispered in a voice that was barely audible.

The only light upstairs was from the open door we’d left behind. As we continued inward, we could see that this must have been where Earl the owner lived. There was a green cot set up in the corner and next to it was a table with what appeared to have been his last meal sitting on it.

"Some stale Cheetos and a warm, flat beer? Dude was really living it up, huh?" I joked to Evelyn. She let me know she didn’t think this was funny by punching me in the arm. It was kind of her go-to move.

I looked around the room to see what else there might be in Earl's bachelor pad. In the other corner was a footlocker, not unlike the ones I’d found in the cabin up the hill. I walked over to it and popped it open.

"Holy shit!"

"What is it?" Evelyn asked in a low and terrified voice.

I reached down and picked one up to show her. "They're grenades! This is going to be fucking awesome!" I shoved as many of them as I could into my backpack. I'd send the others up later on to grab more.

"I think this is going to be a good night. What do you say we go celebrate?"

Rather than giving a verbal response, Evelyn stepped up to me and stuck her tongue down my throat.  She had a good point. I didn't see any reason not to have a two-person celebration right here, right now. I wrapped my arms around her and started to lift her shirt off.

"YOU TWO BETTER NOT BE DEAD UP THERE!" shouted Carolina from down below.

"Fuuuuuck . . . I hate your mom so very much right now,” I said with a look of despair.

"I hate to say it, but you’re not alone," she agreed as she adjusted her shirt. "We're coming. Pete just found something that could prove to be rather useful in the future," she shouted down as we headed for the stairs.

"I've got something useful, alright," I said, slapping her on the ass.

"Knock it off!" she whispered with a playful smile.

We went through the door and down the stairs. We stepped over Earl's body. This might sound strange, but there were bodies everywhere you looked nowadays, it seemed, so we didn't even bother to move him. We were just happy he wasn't moving on his own anymore. He was now just another weird decoration in his own gunsmith shop. Everyone was just sort of lying around when we got downstairs.

"Now this is a party!" I jested. "You guys find anything cool down here?"

"Nah, homie. We've been trying to enjoy ourselves and take a load off, ya know, like you said. We got all night plus the morning to be productive," said Kyle, who was lying down on the counter.

"I guess you have a point. But just so you know, there’s probably some really cool shit here. Do you guys want to know what I just found upstairs?"

"God, yes!" said Kyle, sitting up.

"Settle down, bro, I wasn't up there that long. Check out what I got, though," I said as I set my pack down and opened it up. "You sure you want to see this? It may blow your mind."

"Just show us, ya fucking dick face."

"A’ight, check it out!" I withdrew a grenade from the bag.

"No way! Dude, that's what's up!" said Morgan. Everyone else smiled and made their little sounds of approval.

"This ought to make it a little easier to blow shit up, eh? I can't wait to see what else this place has to offer! But, I suppose that it can wait until morning. It’s not like anything is going to go anywhere. This is our time to relax and have a bit of fun, right?" I grabbed a guitar that I had seen sitting behind the counter.