Zomb-Pocalypse 3 (11 page)

It's cold so I
don't want to stop moving, but I also don't want to walk in the same tiny
circle five hundred times.

I look out into
the dense trees and catch movement out of the corner of my eye. My heart starts
thundering in my chest. I really hope it isn't a zombie. Everyone has adopted
an uneasy acceptance about letting us loose in the woods, but if I have to
shoot a zombie on our very first day out—they will probably reconsider and
we'll be back in the house before we can even say the word zombie!

I hold as still as
I can as I slip my gloves off, letting them fall soundlessly to the forest
floor as I reach for the gun at my hip. There is definitely something behind
that tree. I raise my gun and aim, but I keep my finger off the trigger. It’s
probably a zombie, but there are other live people around here and I don't want
to accidentally kill one of them—that would not be the way to start neighbor
relations.

My arms are
beginning to shake from adrenaline and strain by the time I finally get a
glimpse of the creature behind the tree. I see long, skinny legs first, then a
fair-sized rack of antlers, and a beautiful brown body. It's a deer. I start to
lower my gun. The deer is no threat to us, but I pause. I've never been hunting
before, but a deer would mean fresh meat. It would also mean that Silas might
be a little impressed with me, especially if his own hunting trip turns up
empty.

I grin a little as
I line up the shot and pull the trigger without giving it much thought. My gun
lets out a faint pop. The deer jerks and goes down as my shot connects. I start
forward, but my steps falter. It isn't dead, and the poor thing is thrashing
around wildly in the dirt and dead leaves. Suddenly, I'm horrified about what
I've done. I've never felt a moment’s regret for shooting the dead, but this
deer was alive.

Tears trickle down
my cheeks as I approach its struggling body, and I’m swamped by guilt. There's
so much blood and it isn't black and sick, it's red and pumping out everywhere.
I feel the urge to vomit, but I have to do something much more important first,
so I swallow it down.

My hands shake as
I raise my gun again and aim pointblank at its head. Its eyes are wide and
bulging in pain and fear, and pink foam is sticking to its mouth. "I'm so
sorry," I manage to choke out as I squeeze the trigger. It's pointblank
and messy, but the poor thing is out of its misery. I collapse to my knees in
front of it and start to bawl.

"Jane?"
I hear my dad’s voice and duck my head so he can't see my face. I feel the
weight of his hand on my shoulder.

"I never feel
bad when I shoot zombies," I choke out as I motion to the body in front of
me. "But I just feel so bad about this!" I sob, and my dad pulls me
to my feet and hugs me tightly.

I feel the pat of
hands on my back and wince that Abby and Megan are seeing me like this.

"It’s okay,
Jane,” Abby says as she rubs my back.

“We really did
need this to survive,” Megan says, taking the more practical approach.

“I know,” I tell
them. “I know I’m being ridiculous. I just thought it would be the same as
shooting a zombie, but it made me feel so…guilty.”

I pull away from
Dad and stare down at its prone body. “I don’t know if I can eat it now,” I
admit, but my dad shakes his head.

“You’re eating
it,” he tells me sternly, and I stare up at him in surprise. “If you kill an
animal, the best way to honor it is to make sure it didn’t die just to rot into
the ground. Always eat what you kill, or don’t kill it,” he tells all three of
us.

“Just never
zombies,” Megan adds, and my dad looks a little grossed out at the idea of
eating a zombie.

“Yes, of course.
Never eat a zombie,” he agrees, making us all chuckle a little. “Now let’s take
this deer back to camp and see if Silas will dress it for you,” he says, and we
all grab a leg and start lugging the deer back to the truck. It’s surprisingly
heavy and it takes all four of us to wrestle it into the back of the truck.
We’ve only filled the truck half full of wood, but the other half is full of
meat, so I think that’s a pretty good compromise, and I actually have a small
smile on my face as we head back to camp. I still feel guilty, but I know that
we needed this meat, and it will be put to good use.

Silas is sitting
on the front step skinning a rabbit when we pull up, and I don’t miss the
fleeting look of relief when he sees us returning safe and sound. “Done
chopping wood already?” he asks in surprise as we slide out of the truck.

“Not exactly,” I
say slyly as I motion him over and point to the enormous deer carcass in the
back of the pickup. I enjoy the way his jaw goes slack in surprise.

“Your dad got a
deer?” he asks excitedly, and I shake my head.

“I did,” I say
proudly, and Silas looks skeptical.

“Really?” he
demands, and I nod.

“I wasn’t sure if
that little rabbit there would be enough for supper…” I tease, and he grins.

“Well damn, I’m
proud of you, Blondie,” he says, and I can’t help but beam. Later I’ll share my
guilt ridden experience with Silas, but right now, I just want to bask in his
praise for a little while longer.

Chapter Ten

The morning is
drizzly and wet as the girls and I throw on our gear. “Today is going to suck,”
Megan complains, and I nod in full agreement. It’s totally going to suck. It
has been raining for the last couple of days and, with the low temperatures,
it’s only a matter of time before it turns to snow. I wish we didn’t have to go
out today. But since we’ve had such a late start getting ready for winter,
taking a personal day is not really an option. The past week has gone by quickly,
despite the weather, and the girls and I have fallen into our own little
routine. There’s been a lot of changes, but some of them haven’t been all bad—I
was always an athletic person, but I’ve really seen a lot of changes in my body
over the last week. Long hours spent chopping, hauling, and stacking wood has
toned and muscled my arms and upper body.

The girls and I
always joke that if the world didn’t end, we could’ve made a fortune selling
logging-workouts as part of a full weight loss and toning program. It’s fun to
have something to do while we complete our mindless work, and listing all the
stuff we would buy with our profit is a favorite for us all—it’s not like we
have TV anymore.

My mom is already
in the kitchen, and she hands us a thermos of hot chocolate, three go-cups, and
a hot egg sandwich for each of us. Ryan, Dad, Barry, and Regg have made several
supply runs into the small communities and surrounding rural farms in the area,
and it’s like Christmas every time they return. I bite into my egg sandwich and
close my eyes for a minute to savor it. After their third trip into town last
week, they returned with the backseat of the truck stuffed with live chickens.
Half of us thought they were crazy, but the chickens have really added to the
quality of life we are building for ourselves up here.

Silas and Ryan set
them up in the closest neighboring cabin. It was empty and if the owners
haven’t shown up yet, chances are they probably won’t. It isn’t a permanent
solution, but with winter coming, it’s the best option besides letting them
live in the house with us! The only drawback is soon we will need to keep the
fire going in the cabin with the chickens as well, and that will mean even more
wood that needs to be chopped. I almost voted to keep the damn birds in our
cabin when I heard that.

Mom has always
reveled in the housewife duties, so she’s adapted to life at the cabin better
than anyone. She stays in the house, playing with Sunny all day, baking bread,
and making all the meals. I can’t complain, though, because I would never be
able to make bread and having even the most basic comfort back again has really
made this whole situation seem not so terrible. Of course, the fact that we are
on top of a zombie-free mountain has a lot to do with that too.

“You girls be
careful out there today,” my mom says, planting a kiss on each of our cheeks,
and we all promise her that we will. Silas joins us in the kitchen, and my mom
hands him his own egg sandwich and a cup of coffee.

“Take care of my
girls,” Mom says, like she does every day, and Silas nods as we make our way
outside. The icy blast of wind and water makes me want to run right back inside
the door, but I settle for running to the truck instead.

Megan climbs
behind the wheel of the older model pickup that my dad brought back for us
after their first supply run, and we all sit with our teeth chattering until
the engine warms up and the heat kicks in. “I think we should start the truck
before we all come out here in the morning,” Abby complains, “We can take
turns.” I agree wholeheartedly.

“Dad should’ve
brought us back a truck with command start,” I grouse, and the girls laugh. It
might sound ungrateful. Really, we are very thankful to have our own truck,
especially since we couldn’t fit a lot of wood in the old truck—but since
everything is essentially free these days, a few extra options would’ve been
nice.

Just like she does
every morning, Abby flips on the radio. Together we all sit and listen to
static as she flips slowly through every channel to see if there is anything
new.

“What would you do
if you actually heard something?” I ask—we do a lot of hypotheticals these
days.

“Freak out,” Abby
and Megan both say in unison, and we laugh. Silas climbs into the back of the
truck beside me, and I give him a smile, which he makes half an effort to
return. I glance up and see Megan watching us in the mirror with a smirk on her
lips, and I shake my head at her.

Silas comes with
us every morning; apparently the promise of freedom was just an illusion. He
comes with us under the guise of hunting, but I know that Regg and my parents
have asked him to keep an eye on us while we are out gathering wood. Some days
he helps us, but most of the time he slips off into the forest and doesn’t return
empty-handed. It’s usually small game he brings back, rabbits and birds, but I
did overhear him planning a trip to go higher up the mountain for bigger stuff
like elk or moose.

“When are you
going on that hunting trip?” I ask, since I’m thinking about it now and I’m
curious. Silas looks surprised that I even know about it.

“Eavesdropping
again?” he asks, and I grin. He knows me too well. The top of the stairs is a
great place to stay in the loop. My parents and Regg think Abby, Megan, and I
are too young to be involved with the day-to-day decisions, but I think we are
too changed by this outbreak to go back to just being teenagers. So we are
stuck in a kind of limbo until we turn eighteen. It makes no sense to me,
eighteen is just a number; we have proven ourselves, but they still insist on
treating us like babies.

“Come on,” I
wheedle, “Just tell me. You know I’ll find out anyway.”

Silas snorts,
which I take to mean he knows I’m right. “Fine. I’m planning a trip higher up
the mountain to hunt some bigger game. We need something we can butcher and
store for the winter.” When he finishes, I stare at him until he gives me an
annoyed look. “What?” he demands.

“I already knew
that part,” I tell him, hoping for a few of the more juicy details.

“Then you already
know as much as I do,” he tells me. “It’s not a solid plan yet, we are still
working on it.”

“When do you think
you’ll go?” I ask, and Silas sighs.

“I’m not sure, but
sometime after the first snow. There aren’t any roads that go higher up the
mountain, so I’ll have to hike in and out.” I crinkle my nose at that.

“Wont the snow
make it harder?” I ask, not sure why I’m the only one seeing this problem.

“A little harder,
but the meat is heavy and I’ll have to drag it. Dragging it on a sled will be
easier than any other method.” Silas surprises me by resting his hand on mine
for a minute. “Don’t worry, Blondie, I got this. When I know more, I’ll tell
you,” he promises. Even though he isn’t handing me candy and roses, I know that
this is romantic, for Silas.

My conversation
with Silas is cut short when Megan pulls into the same area we were working
yesterday and puts the truck in park. We all sit in the truck and stare out the
window at the pounding rain, without an ounce of ambition.

“Come on lazy
bones,” Silas says at last as he pulls up his hood and jumps out of the truck.
He is way too energetic.

“I wish I had half
his ambition,” Megan complains, and I laugh.

“I’d settle for a
quarter,” I say, and the three of us giggle, making Silas stare through the
window and shake his head. We all pile out and grab our equipment. Silas
watches while we do our ritualistic rock- paper-scissors. He shakes his head
when I do a happy dance because I’m the first one on Z-duty today.

I start my lap
around the clearing, and Silas falls into step beside me. “Be safe today,” he
tells me, “Keep your guard up, and be thorough. Just because we haven’t seen
anything lately, doesn’t mean it’s one hundred percent safe.” I nod.

“I know,” I snap,
looking up to find that he’s staring down at me. My heart starts pounding in my
chest and, despite the water trying to drown me, my mouth goes dry. Silas pulls
me around the side of a large tree and presses his lips to mine. I kiss him
back like it’s the last time I’ll ever get to kiss him because… you never know.
He pulls back suddenly and gives me a lopsided grin.

“Take care,
Blondie,” he tells me again before he takes off into the trees. I stand for a
minute, watching him walk away, and then I force myself to snap out of it and
get back to my patrolling. A zombie waits for no kiss.

I’m soaked to the
skin and half-hypothermic before I even get my turn with the saw. At least when
I’m working hard I don’t feel as cold. We are in a rush to get the truck filled
up. We have a deal with Regg where we promised to fill at least one truckload
of wood a day. Most days we can do a lot more, but on days like this that are
rainy, and cold, and miserable, it’s nice to be able to cry mercy and meet our
quota early.

Wood shavings fly
everywhere as I section off a particularly large chunk of deadfall. One lands
on my tongue and I spit it out, glancing over at the nearly filled truck,
anxious to get out of here. Even if we finish before Silas gets back, waiting
for him in the truck with the heat on is a nice alternative to hanging out in
the rain. The chainsaw roars in my ear, and the power of it makes my hand
vibrate and itch. I take my finger off the throttle for a minute to help ease
the tingle before it turns into a full-scale case of the numb hand, and I just
let it idle as I try and catch my breath. My ears are still ringing from the
noise, but over that, I hear something else. Abby calls me again, and I turn
with a smile to see what she wants; we usually don’t bother each other when we
are cutting wood. It’s just easier not to interrupt the flow once we get to
work, but I guess since I just stopped for a minute, she thought it was fine.

The smile melts
off my face, and I let out a girly scream when I come face-to-face with a zombie.
If I hadn’t turned, he would’ve been taking a bite out of my back in another
minute. His face is way too close to my own, and it’s not pretty. I barely have
enough time to bring the chainsaw up to act as a buffer. I jab him in the
chest, and it keeps him at bay. It’s terrifying to see him out in the woods,
more because I’d been lulled into a false sense of security, than my actual
fear of him. My heart sinks as I call over to Abby. “I thought you were
watching!”

Abby looks
crushed, and I use some of my newfound muscle to push the deadhead further back
so I can have a little more breathing room. He’s a full grown male though, and
heavy. I know this won’t work for much longer because the zombie doesn’t care
that I have a chainsaw pointed at his chest. His only thought is to rip and
tear and eat me. His arms come up and take a swipe at me, and I know I don’t
have enough time to put the chainsaw down and grab the gun from my holster. My
only weapon IS the chainsaw.

I make a face.
This is going to be disgusting. I don’t let myself think about it too much
before I squeeze the trigger to get the blade going. The chainsaw is still
pressed against the zombie’s shirt and it immediately bites into his flesh. The
zombie is forced back a little by the press of the blade, and I pull the
chainsaw free from his chest with a bit of effort. It was a rookie mistake; I
know it’s got to be the brain.

The next time he
comes at me, I brace myself and stab him in the face with the spinning blade.
It’s worse than I imagined. I’m instantly sprayed with a viscous mix of blood,
snot, and zombie brains, and it doesn’t stop as the blade works its way through
his skull.

I feel my face
become coated with slime, and I’m glad I am still wearing the sunglasses at
least. I can’t even see out of them at this point. I purse my lips together to
keep from getting any of the infectious goop in my mouth. It’s taking all of my
strength. I count to three before I release the saw and jump back, pulling the
useless glasses from my face.

The roar of the
chainsaw goes instantly quiet, and the zombie’s knees buckle as he falls
backwards like a tree. The chainsaw is sticking through his face and in my
adrenaline-fueled state of hysteria, I nearly yell out TIMBER! I barely manage
to suppress it as I look down at the zombie and realize what I just did.

I take a step back
and stare down at the rotting carcass as Abby and Megan run up to me and stand
there gaping. “I am so sorry, Jane!” Abby cries. “You were really close to the
tree line and I was across the clearing and he just stumbled out of the trees
right at you. You couldn’t hear me over the saw and Megan couldn’t line up a
shot.” I hold my hand up to silence her as I hear movement in the underbrush
and this time grab the gun at my hip.

When Silas comes
bursting out of the woods and stops to stare at me, his mouth actually drops
and I quickly lower my gun.

“Holy shit,
Blondie, I leave you alone for an hour and you go all Texas Chainsaw Massacre
on some zombie?”

I raise my
gore-stained fingers and point at him. “Be careful, Silas, or you’ll be next,”
I caution him, and he laughs.

“Didn’t I tell you
to behave yourself?” he asks, and from the corner of my eye I see Megan and
Abby gaping at him like he’s completely lost his mind. The exact opposite is
actually true though. Silas’s calm is having a similar effect on me. I think if
he’d run over here and started freaking out, I would be in as many pieces as
that zombie right now.