Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (10 page)

"Oh my fucking God. This shit is unreal. It's
like the forces of nature are punking me and having a great big
laugh at my expense."

No one else dared to interject; I'd lost my
shit and was babbling like a raving lunatic.

"Seriously, a yacht full of zombies? How the
hell does that even happen? Stop fucking with me!" I screamed at
the top of my lungs into the sky. My fists were clenched and I
could feel my face go red with my skyrocketing blood pressure.

"Uh…yeah," started Vinny. "Do you feel better
now?"

"No," I responded petulantly, crossing my
arms with a childish huff. I fell back to the floor of the raft,
kicking my feet and pounding my fists into the flimsy bottom. I
heard the boys snickering at my embarrassing display and wasn't
having any of it.

"Stop laughing at me!" I demanded, which made
them laugh even harder. "Goddamn fucking fuckers," I spat.

A few minutes later, I was past the tantrum
and embarrassed by my outburst. I decided to handle it like any
self-respecting adult woman would; I pretended it didn't
happen.

"Is it me," said Jake, "or are we just bad
luck on people?"

Vinny raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Everywhere we go and anyone we come into
contact with dies."

"Dude, don't overanalyze it. It is what it
is, and I'm fine with it so long as our own luck doesn't run
out."

I looked at him with my neck cocked to one
side. "Luck? Is that what you're calling this? Millions of miles of
water out there and the zombie dinner cruise just plowed into the
only boat in sight." He had that look on his face, the one he got
right before he asked the question I was thoroughly sick of
hearing. "Don't," I ordered.

"Don't what?"

"Do not ask the question you're thinking
about asking."

"Sorry, gotta."

"I'll kick you in the balls if you ask
it."

He cupped his junk with his hands and smiled.
"Must. Ask. Can't. Stop."

"Balls, Vinny, I will kick them. When you're
least expecting it, I promise."

"So," he said in a taunting voice, "What
now?"

"Argh!"

Meg and Jake laughed along with Vinny, and I
shot them all daggers.

"Damn, Vinny, I feel for you man," Jake
sympathized. "She won't forget that, and she is totally going to
kick you in the nuts someday soon." Vinny's face paled, realizing
for the first time that he just might end up singing soprano in the
near future. I smiled back at him mischievously nodding my head
slowly to punctuate Jake's revelation.

"Well, now that the evil question is on the
table, I think the first priority is to find a reliable car," I
offered to the group. One of the main features of the commercial
district was its abundance of car dealerships.

Meg joined in the planning. "What do we go
for? Compact and fuel efficient or a BAMF?"

The three of us looked at her in obvious
confusion.

"Oh, come on, seriously? What are you guys,
like, eighty? Bad-Ass Motherfucker-BAMF… a tank." She rolled her
eyes at us, annoyed at our lack of hip terms.

"A tank would be nice," said Jake wistfully.
"And some heavy artillery couldn't hurt."

Vinny rolled his eyes at Jake's pipe dream.
"Yeah, well unless you know of a super-secret military base that I
don't, I think we should grab an SUV. Not one of those crappy
crossovers though, those things are more station wagon than
truck."

"Here, let me have a go." I took the paddle
from Jake. "This water is freezing. Maybe the exercise will warm me
up some." The ocean mixed with the wind, and the fact that I was
sitting in three inches of water and soaked through to the bone was
making me shiver. Meg followed my lead and grabbed the paddle Vinny
was using, and the two of us paddled the raft closer to land.

I didn't see any undead wandering nearby and
was hopeful we'd land at the boat-ramp without a hitch. We got
closer and still the area was clear. About ten feet from the ramp,
I felt something push against my ass.

"What the…" I started. "Weird."

The others looked at me like I was losing
it.

The outline of a hand pressed up from the
center of the raft, a second and third adding to the mound.

"Fuck," exclaimed Jake. "They're under us!"
He grabbed his screwdriver and my crowbar, ready to hand it off to
me. Meg had Spike in her lap, both hands on the paddle, and Vinny
held his Ka-Bar in the air, ready to strike. The resistance created
from the increasing number of limbs pushing on the raft made it
difficult to make any progress toward the ramp.

The more shallow the water became, the harder
I paddled, gaining inches at a time. My muscles burned with the
effort of each stroke, and I began to panic. Jake shoved Daphne
roughly into her carrier, much to her dismay if her whines were any
indication, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He and Vinny
scrambled to gather the rest of our pitiful belongings while Meg
and I fought the stopping power of what now looked like twenty
hands.

Meg tipped forward, her upper body leaning
over the raft, and nearly toppled over. One gray hand rose above
the water line, gripping the paddle.

"Let it go," ordered Jake. She complied, but
it did no good. He'd forgotten that handy feature of the paddles
being attached to the raft, and letting it go just made it easier
for them to stall our progress.

"Fuck!" he growled again, taking my paddle
and cutting it furiously into the water and, thankfully, making
better headway with his manly bicep muscles dwarfing mine.

Vinny peered over the side and into the
upturned faces of bloated corpses scrabbling to get to the fresh
meat. "Bro, this is gonna be tight," he said. I followed his gaze
to the deathtrap below. Our appearance seemed to be all the
motivation the zombies needed to begin their slow trip to the ramp.
If we didn't make better progress, they'd easily overtake us.

The swollen face of a long dead corpse rose
up in front of us, and I pulled back the crowbar, using the
leverage to slam the straight edge through its forehead. It sunk
below the now-shallow water as I retracted the gore-soaked weapon.
Breakfast roiled in my belly, nearly making a comeback, but, with
great effort, I swallowed it down.

Behind us, the same terrifying scene played
out as we closed the distance to the ramp. Countless menacing
corpses were rising, following us. The paddle scraped cement as it
came in contact with the steep ramp. Taking two more hard swipes at
the water, the bottom of the raft scuffed the hard surface and Jake
flung the paddle.

"Go!" he demanded, and the four of us
clambered from the raft and clumsily began to climb the wet
incline. I grabbed Meg's arm when she slipped, panicked that she
would tumble backwards into the waiting arms of a corpse.

Breaking free from the water, we ran to the
top of the ramp, pausing only to look in every direction. We
discovered we were behind the Costco on Cleveland Boulevard. Hope
surged as I saw the behemoth superstore, and we made for the
concrete building. We skidded to a halt after rounding the corner
to discover the roll-down doors of the store were up and shadows
moved within.

"Not a chance," hissed Vinny. "Keep
going."

"Across the median." Jake pointed to the
first dealership that signified the beginning of the auto-row.

The three-lane highway was stalled with
bumper-to-bumper traffic in either direction, making it easy for a
zombie, or even a group of zombies, to lie in wait for innocent
victims. I took Meg's hand, trying to comfort her, but my own fear
was mirrored in her face, doing little in the way of comfort.

Jake motioned in the direction of a small gap
between cars. "Stay quiet, stay low, and stay together. And most
importantly, stay alert. Avoid windows and pay attention to the
ground; anything could be lurking under the vehicles."

"Great fucking pep talk, Yoda," I sniped, not
feeling an ounce of comfort.

"Go!"

We ran at a slow jog, our heads snapping in
all directions, watching for deadly threats. I kept hold of Meg's
hand, my weapon gripped tightly in my free hand, poised and ready
to defend us if need be. My chin ached with each impact of my
sneakers on the pavement, still not fully healed from my fall
during our flight from Sanibel.

At the median, we climbed over at a crouch.
Nothing moved around us and there were little signs of struggle
save for a couple corpses so badly eaten that there wasn't enough
left to reanimate. Birds pecked at the rotten bits of flesh that
still remained. Three lanes left, that's all that separated us and
the Nissan dealership on the other side of the roadway.

Once again, we took off at a jog. One lane
down, two left to go. The cars were packed so close together that
we needed to run up two car lengths before finding another opening.
Two lanes down, one left to go. Jake and his brother were in front
as we passed through the narrow opening of the last obstacle
between us and an open run to the dealership. Meg trailed behind
me, keeping up as I pulled on her hand, squeezing as much to
mollify her nerves as well as my own.

Her hand wrenched free from mine and she let
out a muffled yelp when she hit the ground, flat on her stomach.
Behind her, under the car we were passing, was a zombie. Its
fingers were clenched around her lower leg, and it began to drag
her backwards.

I grunted with effort while trying to pull
her free, succeeding only in dragging both her and the monster a
few measly inches.

"Jake!" I hissed. He was there in an instant,
adding his strength to my efforts while Vinny hurdled above our
heads, landing beside Meg's legs. He used his Ka-Bar to penetrate
the base of its neck. The tip of the blade pierced through the
fetid flesh and struck asphalt, grinding as the blade twisted.

Without a word, we continued our short trek
to the dealership, flattening ourselves to the south wall to catch
our breath. Meg was trembling and, let's be honest, I didn't blame
her even a little. I was just surprised I didn't smell piss,
because I know, without a doubt, that I would have peed the fuck
out of myself had that been me back there. Nope, I stand corrected,
I smelled piss. I patted her lightly on the shoulder in a show of
solidarity and eyed the boys in warning, my expression leaving no
question as to my thoughts of go ahead, make a comment, I dare
you.

Smart men, they kept their mouths shut.

Chapter 07: Yo, Adrian

Our position on the wall afforded us a clear view of
the car lot. At first, it looked clear, but as I stared longer into
the mass of vehicles I began to notice movement. Figures shuffled
sporadically throughout the rows not seeming to notice our
presence…yet. To our right was the front of the building made up of
a little concrete and a lot of glass. The windows were tinted to
combat the Florida sun, so we couldn't see the interior of the
showroom. I shuddered, thinking about what could see out.

To our left was the service area. Having
owned a Nissan, I'd spent many an hour in both areas of the
dealership. We backed along the wall until we reached the service
entry. Seeing that the bay doors were down flooded me with relief.
I still didn't know what would lay beyond the doors, but knowing
they hadn't been open for two months, like an invitation to
unwelcome guests, left me feeling optimistic.

We stood in front of the glass door waiting
to see if anything sounded from the other side and hoping it was
unlocked.

"Moment of truth," whispered Jake. He closed
his eyes and took a deep breath, hand resting on the handle, and
pulled. A soft tinkle of bells sounded as the door opened a few
inches and he paused, ready to close it should any body parts show
themselves. When nothing happened, he pulled the door fully open,
taking care to go slower this time and not agitate the bells. The
four of us stepped inside, with Vinny in front and Jake quietly
closing the door behind us.

We were in a short hallway with a clear view
to the service desk. The metal roll-down shutters were lowered and
signs of a struggle were evident. A long-dry mess of blood and
scattered papers littered the area in front of the desk. Something
dead had wanted whatever was behind those shutters, which meant at
one time there was something alive behind them.

To our immediate right was the service bay,
dark behind a large set of glass doors. It was a no-brainer. We
went left, toward the showroom, which was much brighter due to the
wall of windows. Halfway down the hall were two vending machines. I
noted that they were both intact, and the clear panel covering the
front of the candy machine made it easy to see the full stock of
goodies. Its condition would have been much different had there
been people left alive in the building.

Vinny put his arm out, blocking our passage
and whispered, "Listen."

I heard it, a soft rhythmic thumping.

"What do you think it is?" asked Meg.

"Nothing good. Be ready for anything."

We continued to the opening of the showroom.
The first smell of death hit me and I knew we weren't alone. The
cavernous room made it difficult to locate the thumping. Vinny gave
Jake the sign to go left, indicating he would take the right. A
wave of sadness rushed through me, remembering a time not so long
ago that Seth had made up hand signals to mess with me, and to try
to cheer me up after Jake's team went missing.

Meg and I stood guard at the opening, ready
to take out any threats that came at us head on. Okay, so maybe
ready was a bit of an overstatement. It was more like we stood
there huddled together ready to shit our pants at the first sign of
trouble.

Daphne shifted in the bag, jostling the
strap's position on my shoulder and nearly causing the strap to
slide off. Jesus, I thought, please just let her stay quiet for a
few more minutes. Meg cocked her head, questioning my sudden
stiffness and, without moving, I shifted my eyes to the bag.
Realization dawned and I saw her fear.