Z Children (Book 1): Awakening (13 page)

Could I afford
to have sympathy for this creature? Was this world, this new reality, a place
that allowed such a weakness?

No.

Sympathy and
weakness would get me killed. It would get Sherry and Marty killed. I couldn’t
take a chance on compassion.

I gave the
monster
a good rap on both knees to slow her down so she couldn’t follow me back. I’d
successfully damaged the joints; they seemed to cave slightly inward now. The
action made me cringe… cringe, because ‘she’ cringed, another gasp of surprise
escaping her pale lips. I turned my back on her, turned my back on the idea
that I was still killing, despite my best intentions.

No sympathy,
don’t look at her.
I slowly jogged beneath the waning sun toward our new wheels, my mind
desperately pawing for understanding. This changed world where children turned
murderous and adults turned walking death was beyond comprehension.

***

The pungent
smell of zombie blood and flesh lingered in the RV, even after scrubbing
everything with the copious amounts of cleaner I’d found under the kitchen sink.
A smell I could live with though.

Things seemed to
be working out now, righting themselves until I could call myself a realist
again. I was sitting in the driver’s seat, making myself comfortable and
familiar with the different functions. There were too many bells and whistles
for my taste. Give me an old, computer-free car and crank windows any day. The
movement in the rear of the vehicle distracted me for a moment and I turned
around to watch Sherry rummaging through the cabinets. She began to set the
items down on the quartz countertop-a sauce pot, a jar of vodka sauce, canned
chicken.

Sherry was
trustworthy, and that made her all the more attractive. If she could cook, well
then the end of the world might be a cake walk. I had a nice comfortable house
on wheels. Marty was sitting cross legged on the L-shaped couch and cartoons
were playing on the large television screen; the sounds of an incredibly
annoying ‘catdog’ were punctuated by Marty’s laugh. It was a startled little
squeak that made him screw his face up in shame, like he wasn’t allowed to have
a moment of joy when so much bad had happened. I liked kids; I liked them a
lot, but life had never thrown a wife and a baby in my lap. At this moment, I
was grateful for that. Who’d want to raise a kid from innocent infancy to see
that innocence stripped away by chaos and carnage?

But then again –
I looked at Sherry again and then back at Marty – maybe life had just been a
little delayed on the uptake. Because here I was, patriarch to an unlikely family.

One thing was
for sure, I’d have scrawny Marty whipped into tip-top, monster-kicking shape,
before Sherry could yell ‘dinner time’.

I was just about
ready to convince myself that the apocalypse wasn’t going to be so bad, when I
noticed a hulking mass silhouetted in the still-open RV door. I’d removed the
busted screen door and we’d left the main door open, hoping to air out a bit
more of the lingering stench. That had obviously been a mistake.

It was the owner
of the leash staring at me, just staring at me, the sun outlining his form in
distinct blackness… which made the sight all the more striking. The large dog
was sharply muscled and the veins in his front legs bulged menacingly. I had no
idea where the animal had come from, but the sight of a full grown Rottweiler
standing in the doorway of his ‘home’ was enough to make me just the teensiest
bit uncomfortable.  I looked at him and he looked back. He wasn’t being
aggressive; maybe he was seeing if we were like
them.

“You ok, Boy?” I
said in my bravest voice, trying not to let on that I was scared out of my
mind. Dogs could be fiercer, more capable foes than many humans.

At the sound of
my voice, the Rotti leapt from the steps and into the RV. Before I could bring
the ASP up to defend myself, the big dog had me on my back and was covering my
face with lots of wet, sticky love.

“Okay, okay!”
 I laughed, trying to avoid being drowned in warm saliva. “It’s all good,
the bad people are gone.”

It took several
minutes to calm the big pup down. It took even longer to wipe away the liters
of drool coating my face and upper chest. I stood, massaging my right knee for
a minute. The big dog had really rammed into my lower body. Sitting, his
cropped tail wagging in such a fashion that his entire rear end wiggled
happily, the Rotti’s head was at belt level on my body.

“So, big guy,
what’s your name?” The dog cocked his head left and then right, as if trying to
understand my words. I looked around for some clue and my gaze landed on the
discarded leash and attached collar. I walked over to pick it up, the big dog
nearly tripping me in his attempt to stay as close as possible. I reached down
and retrieved the pet accessory and read the name on his collar tag.

“Frank?” The big
dog gave a deep bark. “Frank… Really, that’s the best they could do?”

The big animal
looked at me with forlorn eyes, as if I’d hurt his feelings. I laughed again, a
booming sound that filled the interior of the large RV and startled both Sherry
and Marty – who were currently huddled together on the couch looking like the
space around them was filled with more killer kids. “Ok, no offense. Frank’s a
good name, especially if you like it”

The Rottweiler
barked his approval. Having the big animal at my side gave me confidence and
knowing that he didn’t like those
things
any better than I did, assured
me that we wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

Pulling away
from the T-Bird, I felt a little sad, but that feeling was quickly dispelled by
a wet tongue leaving a saliva trail up my face- from chin to temple. “Frank!” I
pushed the big dog away, laughing for a third time. “Sit down, you big baby.”
Frank dutifully turned and climbed up into the passenger’s seat. His black and
burnt umber fur was glossy and his keen eyes were fixed on the road ahead.

A home on
wheels, a sexy cook, a scrappy kid, and a guard dog.

Hello,
Apocalypse, game on.

***

 “I just
can’t believe you don’t have a cell phone, Juan. It’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t need
one.”

“Don’t you ever
call family, friends, anyone?”

“I have a house
phone, Sherry. A land line. Ever heard of one of those?” I could hear Marty
snort out a laugh. I liked that kid more and more every minute.  

But I could almost
feel Sherry rolling her eyes at me as she rummaged around in the back of the
RV, stoically ignoring Marty’s laughter. “You’d think that this stupid RV would
have one; it’s like a mansion on wheels.”

“Are you sure
you can’t get that phone you found in the bedroom working?”

“Seriously,
Juan?” Two seconds later, Sherry was in between my seat and Frank’s. “Look at
this thing! It’s in pieces!” She held the remains of a hot pink, bejeweled
phone in her left hand. It was a garish thing, little bits of blood splattered
on the screen. “It’s like an elephant stepped on it.”

“Fine. Fine.
I’ll find a damn pay phone or something.”

There was no
need to stop, not with a nearly full tank, food for a month, and an open road.
Corpus Christi might as well have been across the road with a welcome sign.

At least, in
theory, it should have been.

Had I been
flying solo, I never would have stopped- especially not in a town with a
population sign boasting eight thousand strong. But I had a woman’s voice
banging into my brain. Sherry wanted to call Susan. And the woman seemed to be
a stranger to the word ‘no’. I’d never really had a best friend, maybe if I
had; I’d better understand the unrelenting bond between the two women. If only
that pink cell had been intact…

It took me
several turns and miles to find a phone. The world had become so dependent on
mobile devices that finding a stationary phone was next to impossible. If this
were the apocalypse though, soon cell towers might go black, and then folks
would understand the limitations of a disconnected world. That thought made me
wonder how some people would survive- without their social media, videos of
kittens gone viral, and dating sites.

 The old
bell box was nestled between two store entrances in a strip mall on the
opposite side of the typical Texas town. The location wasn’t terrible; there
was a sign for the interstate at the adjacent light. A quick exit. That eased
my mind slightly. I ignored the parking lot lines and yellow paint on the
shopping center’s sidewalk. I highly doubted a fire truck would respond even if
there was a fire. No need to leave the way open. Besides, I wanted to be as
close as possible to that pay phone… and parking the giant RV between abandoned
cars in the lot would be near impossible for me. I was just getting the hang of
the big rig.

I didn’t want
Sherry to get out of the RV. Damn, stubborn woman.

A strip mall
meant stores, stores meant shoppers, shoppers meant there was likely one or two
zombies lurking.
Zombies.
The word made me want to full-body shake. I
now lived in a world where the dead didn’t stay dead.

“Make it quick.”

Sherry was
already opening the RV door. “Do you really think I want to be out there any
longer than I need to be?” She scoffed.

“I don’t see why
you have to be out there at all. It’s damn near the stupidest thing you could
do. You know where the marina is in Corpus. I’m sure there are phones closer to
it.”

“But what if
they didn’t make it there? Susan left me that message when they were still
home. Then last time I called, her phone went to voicemail. They could have
ended up anywhere.”

“You’ve already
tried calling her once and she didn’t answer? You don’t even know if the phones
will work now and this completely unsafe, Sherry.” I was irritated now;
somewhat irritated with Sherry for making me stop when Susan hadn’t even
answered the first time she’d called, but mostly irritated with myself for
driving into this damn town in the first place.  

“Why wouldn’t
they?” With those words and a shrug, Sherry pushed open the door and closed it
behind her. I didn’t like that; the barrier of a closed door between us. I
stood, reaching for the .38 on the RV dash. The shotgun was in the back,
unloaded, and leaning between the sofa and built-in sideboard. I was still
uncomfortable having loaded weapons around children, even at the end of the
world. It only took a moment, one dangerous moment of curiosity, to end a young
life.

As I moved,
Frank shifted in his seat, preparing to follow me. “Stay, Big Guy. I’m not
going far.” The big dog whimpered, his large brown eyes opening wider. “Don’t
give me that look.” I patted his big head roughly and gave him a quick scratch
behind his right ear.

“Don’t leave
too.” Marty’s voice surprised me. I’d thought he’d been asleep on the sofa. “I
don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m not leaving
the RV. I just want to be able to see Sherry.” To prove my words, I finished
the walk to the slim door and opened it, positioning myself so that I could see
both Marty and Sherry easily. “See. I’m right here.” The boy still looked
unconvinced, as if I were going to jump out of the RV and abandon him.

I looked over at
Frank, who was sitting in the driver’s seat now, his eyes following my every
movement. “Hey, Frank, why don’t you sit with Marty?” The Rotti didn’t budge.
“Come on, big guy.” I slapped my thigh a few times and smiled. “Come on, boy.”

With a huff,
Frank jumped down from the chair and sidled toward me. “No, not me. Go to
Marty.” I pointed at the boy. “Go on now. A little help, Marty?”

“I’ve never been
around a dog.” Marty seemed a bit nervous. I couldn’t blame him. Frank must
have weighed as much as the boy, if not more. He clapped, calling the dog.
“Here, Frank. Here, Frankie, Frankie.”

Frank grunted,
as if displeased with the nickname Frankie, but dutifully, he walked over to
Marty and put his big, square head in the little boy’s lap. Marty tentatively
rubbed the dog’s head. Frank finally gave in, planting a sloppy kiss on Marty’s
pant leg and pushing closer to the boy, greedy for more affection.

I looked back at
Sherry now, realizing I’d been distracted from my original goal of keeping her
safe. She was just placing the phone back in its cradle. Her shoulders were
slumped and her fingers automatically went into the change dispenser, hunting
for stray coins. It was an absent-minded action. Her hand fell to her side,
resting against her thing. She didn’t turn around though. “You ok, Sherry?”

“I’m fine.” Her
voice was so quiet that I could barely hear her.
I’m fine-
just the
response you get from a woman when they aren’t fine at all.

“Let’s get back
on the road then.” Just as I was turning away from her to return to the
driver’s seat, movement caught my gaze.

It was one of
the bitten adults,
moving
slowly, but with undeniable focus.