Zomb-Pocalypse 3
Authors: Megan Berry
I’m being
smothered—held down beneath a pile of limbs. Their weight makes it difficult to
breath and I start to hyperventilate. I flail, but it just makes them hold on
tighter.
“Silas!” I scream
in terror as I’m being shaken and jostled around. I bite my tongue, and the
taste of blood in my mouth amps up the fear. My elbow connects with soft flesh
and I hear a groan, so close I feel breath puff against my ear...
“Jane!” I hear a
voice, but it sounds so far away—too far away to save me.
“Help!” I scream,
still kicking and swinging, expecting to feel the bites at any moment.
“Honey, please
wake up.” The voice finally registers, and it’s my mom. I blink and open my
eyes, but the room is just as black as the inside of my eyelids.
“Mom?” I ask in a
small voice.
“Yes, Jane. It’s
me. You’re dreaming,” she assures me, and I can hear the stress in her voice. I
hear rustling and then a flashlight is switched on, and I blink. Dad is sitting
beside me as well, though his back is turned towards me, which is kind of odd.
“Dad?” I ask
hesitantly, and he turns towards me with his hand covering his nose.
“Yeah, hon. I’m
here too.” His voice sounds nasally, but he gives me a smile and I relax. My
heart is still pounding, but it’s starting to slow down now that I’m awake and
realize it was all just a dream. My body is drenched in sweat and I kick the
covers off. My damp skin meets the nippy fall air, and I shiver, pulling the
blanket back up to cover myself.
“You were having a
nightmare,” my mother says, and it’s not a question. I’ve had them the last few
nights, and I know she is getting concerned. I nod, not really wanting to talk
about it.
“You called out
for that boy,” Dad tells me, pressing a handkerchief to his nose, and I frown.
“Ryan?” I ask,
though I have a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t who I cried out for to protect
me.
“The other one,”
Mom says, her lips pursed, “the scary one.” I laugh at that, I can’t help it.
“Silas is not
scary,” I tell her, and she shrugs, holding on to her opinion.
“What happened to
your nose?” I ask my dad when he pulls the handkerchief away and I see the
trickle of blood.
“It’s nothing,” he
assures me, but I keep staring at him until he cracks. “You elbowed me in the
face when you were dreaming,” he admits, and I’m horrified.
“I’m so sorry,
Dad!” I gush, leaning forward to see if he’s okay.
“I’ll be fine,” he
assures me. “I just need to learn to keep my nose away from you when you’re
flailing around like that,” he jokes, and I give him a small smile. The taste
of copper in my mouth reminds me that my dad isn’t the only one with an injury
from my nightmare, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t need to give my parents
any more cause to worry than they already have.
This might be
weird for a sixteen-year-old, but I’ve been sleeping with my parents for the
last three nights, ever since I found them. They refuse to let me go, and I’m
really not in that much of a hurry either—space is pretty limited here at the
cabin, especially with all the extra people. I’ve been sleeping in the middle
like I did when I was a little girl and had nightmares about clowns chasing me.
I guess it’s fitting since we are all living in a nightmare now.
“Where are you
going?” Mom demands when I try to extract myself from the bed. Dad looks around
the room, his hand going beneath his pillow to grip the knife that I know he
keeps there. It’s so weird to see him with his black, bushy beard, toting
around a knife.
“Just the
bathroom,” I tell them, knowing that Mom wants nothing more than to trail me
across the cabin to make sure I get there safe. “I’m fine, Mom,” I tell her,
trying to calm her nerves. It’s been three days and we haven’t seen a single
zombie this high up the mountain—besides, I’m just walking across a locked
house.
My dad puts a
calming hand on her arm, and she gives him a look that is filled with fear.
“She’ll be alright,” he assures her, and my mom lets out a huge sigh. “Why
don’t you take a look at my nose while she’s gone?” he suggests, and Mom nods
grudgingly, already poking at his handkerchief. My dad turns to me and winks.
“If you aren’t back in five minutes, I won’t be able to hold her back,” he
teases, and I give him a thankful look as I leave the room. He isn’t joking.
I rush through the
house, and a shiver runs through my body. It’s so cold now, especially at
night. It isn’t so bad tucked into bed underneath all the blankets, but the
main area of the house is freezing. I wish I’d thought to grab my coat. I
consider going back for it but change my mind. I have limited time alone and I don’t
want to waste it.
The bathroom is
pitch black; there isn’t even a window to let in a bit of moonlight. I set my
flashlight on the counter. It illuminates my face in a super creepy way as I
gaze at myself in the mirror. We don’t have heat or electricity, but the cabin
does have its own well, so at least we still have indoor plumbing. I stick my
tongue out to examine it, but it isn’t bad enough to even see in the dim light,
so I rinse my mouth and get on with my life. The toilet seat is so cold that I actually
gasp when my butt hits it. Sixteen is too young for hemorrhoids—I hope.
I hear a soft
knock at the door, just as I’m washing my hands, and I bite back an annoyed
sigh. I love my parents, but that wasn’t even five minutes! I understand where
they’re coming from; they don’t want to let me out of their sight. I’m sure
that is a perfectly normal response after losing your kid in the zombie
apocalypse, but they’re smothering me.
“Mom—” I sigh as I
open the door and come face to face with Abby instead. “Sorry,” I tell her. “I
thought you were my mo…” I trail off, not really wanting to say the “M” word to
my best friend, who lost both of her parents recently. She gives me a small
smile that is strained around the edges.
“Hey,” she says,
pretending not to notice my slipup. I motion to the bathroom behind me, feeling
awkward.
“It’s all yours,”
I say unnecessarily as I step out of her way, and she goes in, quietly shutting
the door behind her.
I stare at the
door for a minute with my lips pursed. I am so grateful she made it. If the
world had to go to hell, at least we can be together…but we aren’t all
together. Abby’s parents were torn apart that first day, and having my parent’s
turn up, both alive and well, has sort of driven a wedge between us. It’s nothing
she’s said, but we’ve been friends since we were toddlers. I can tell she’s
struggling to be happy for me. I don’t blame her though; I would feel the exact
same way if our roles were reversed. I put my hand on the door between us and
wish I’d hugged her or something. I promise myself I will do it tomorrow, and
then I hustle off to bed.
My mother is
pacing when I get back. She pounces on me and wraps me in a great big hug. “I
never want to let you go baby girl,” she mutters. Despite how annoying it is, I
smile and hug her back. Mom was always warm and loving before, but the zombie
apocalypse has driven her to extremes.
“I know, Mom,” I
tell her dryly, and Dad chuckles. I crawl into bed and both of my parents wrap
their arms around me. I know the way they are acting towards me is only making
things worse for Abby. My mom mothers her too, makes sure she eats, asks her
how she’s doing… Heck, she even tried getting her to sleep in this room with
us, but Abby politely turned her down and chose to bunk with Megan and Sunny in
her old bedroom. I close my eyes and listen to my parents fidget. The weight of
their arms reminds me of my nightmare…
I make it through
the night without dreaming, or busting my dad’s nose again. I wake up alone in
the bed and stretch. It feels nice to be alone, but I’m surprised my parents
have left me. I roll over and get to my feet. I can hear the quiet hum of
voices outside in the kitchen. The room is almost too bright. The adults vetoed
Ryan’s garbage bag idea. Once it’s dark, we just try to leave the lights off. I
quickly throw on my jeans and a long sleeve shirt, sliding my jacket on over
top. My hand goes to my waist where my gun should be, but it’s not there. My
parents confiscated it our first day at the cabin. I tried to argue, but my dad
was adamant that he could protect me, that I am too young for a gun. I still
keep my Crocodile Dundee knife stuck in my boot though. I’d be foolish to be
totally unprotected.
I smooth down my
jeans, throw my hair up into a messy ponytail, and head out the door. A fire is
burning in the enormous stone fireplace in the living room now—we don’t keep it
lit at night for fear the smoke will attract the dead. I suspect, once winter
hits, we will have to change that rule though.
Everyone is
gathered in the living room, spread out across the couches, to stay warm. Mom
is handing out steaming bowls of hot oats that she’s mixed with honey. “Good
morning, Sweetie,” she says as I take a seat on the floor beside Megan, and I
give her a small smile, even though her pet names embarrass me a little. Sergeant
Regg looks up with a grin on his face.
“I thought you
were going to sleep all day,” he teases me, and I make a face at him.
“What time is it
anyway?” I ask, and Ryan is the one that looks down at his wrist watch.
“It’s only eight,”
he tells me, and I relax. For a minute Regg had me thinking I’d really slept
in.
Barry Walker, an
average height guy with glasses who had come all the way from New York with my
parents, clears his throat and every eye turns in his direction. “We were
discussing a supply run,” he reminds my dad and the Sergeant. Like little boys
caught fooling around in class, they both nod in unison and straighten up in
their seats.
“Where are you
going?” I ask, and Dad shakes his head at me. He doesn’t want me interrupting
the adults. I grind my teeth in frustration and glance at Ryan, who looks
equally annoyed. Ryan has finished his oatmeal and I rush to gulp the rest of
mine down, following him into the kitchen.
“This sucks,” I
tell him, and he nods as he washes his bowl in the sink of hot, soapy water
that my mom boiled this morning.
“Agreed,” he tells
me, holding his hands out for my bowl. I feel a little guilty handing it over.
“It’s like they
don’t think we can do anything,” I continue, not able to let it go. Sunny
wanders into the kitchen with her own pink, plastic bowl, and Ryan takes it
from her hand with a big smile on his face.
“Hey, Sunny
Bunny,” he greets her, and I have to stifle a giggle at the nickname.
“What are you guys
doing?” Sunny asks, and I shrug.
“Nothing,” I tell
her, and I can almost see her eyes glazing over in boredom.
“Megan and Abby
said they’d teach me how to play Go Fish,” she tells us as she hugs us both
quickly around the waist and skips off in search of people who are more fun
than us. I lean on the counter and watch as Ryan finishes washing Sunny’s bowl
and sets it on a dish towel to dry.
Silas walks into
the kitchen through the back door and doesn’t even glance at me. “Hey,” he
greets as he walks over and pours himself a cup of coffee from the metal tin
sitting on the small propane camp stove that sits on the counter—without
electricity, it’s been a lifesaver.
“Hi,” I say in a
pointed tone that has him glancing up at me for a second before turning away again.
“The grown-ups are
planning a supply run,” Ryan tells him, using his fingers to air quote
grown-ups. Silas snorts, and I grin a little. I guess I’m not the only one
that’s been chafing at authority around here lately. I see it though. The three
of us made it alone for weeks, crossing a country that was swarming with dead
heads trying to eat us at every turn. I think we deserve a little credit.
“I’m gonna go grab
a quick shower,” Ryan tells us as he walks towards the door. “We can get the
details from Regg later.” I give him a small wave as he disappears out the
door, heading to the camper he’s been sharing with Silas and Regg. I’m left
alone with Silas. I look at him, but he’s still avoiding my eyes as he sips his
coffee.
“I think I’ll go
out and bring in some more wood,” he says after a minute, and I’m sure he’s
just using it as an excuse to get away from me. He’s been blatantly avoiding me
these last few days—ever since he kissed me when we thought we were going to
die. Sometimes I almost wonder if Silas would have preferred it that way.
“I’ll come with
you,” I offer, not giving him a chance to refuse as I follow him out the door.
He sighs heavily like I’m annoying him, but I try not to take it personally.
That is just the way Silas is, and I’m done letting him get away with ignoring
me. I don’t know what that kiss meant, or what I truly feel for him, but I do
know that I’ve come to care about him and despite the way he’s treating me, we
are friends. Living through what we did these last couple weeks, relying on
Silas and Ryan, not just for companionship during the darkest time of my life,
but for my very survival, has formed a bond between the three of us that goes
deeper than any other friendship in my life—even Abby.
My parents have
forbidden me from going outside alone, and even though I’m not alone, I doubt
they had Silas in mind as an acceptable escort when they made that rule. I
don’t care though. I’ve been cooped up inside the cabin for three days. The
morning is bright and I breathe the scent of pine in deeply, enjoying the sound
of the birds chirping merrily in the trees and the sun on my face. It’s like a
whole new world up here, so far removed from all the ripping, biting death down
below.