SHTF (NOLA Zombie Book 0) (11 page)

She was dead.

Her skin a deathly gray.

They had killed her. They were eating her.

I had sworn I would protect her. She was my baby sister.
And I had failed.

I grabbed the first one by its hair. It had the long, thick, black hair of a person of Asian descent. It was still shiny with life, but now it was matted and soaked with viscera and blood. I yanked her head back and slammed my knife into her eye. It went in easy. It slid through the soft tissue and lodged in her brain.

I yanked the knife out and she fell across the others. They had stopped feeding and were pushing up to get to me. The closest one, a teen boy, stood and stumbled forward. I slammed my blade hard into his skull. It took a great effort of will, but it broke through the bone and dropped him.

The next one was the child. She had caught up to us. Her little pink dress was now completely covered in the bright red color of fresh blood. She moaned, her little teeth snapped at me as she reached tiny hands in my direction. I let her come to me, and I fell to my knees in front of her.

A part of me wanted to just let her come, just let her bury that little body in my arms and sink her teeth into my skin.
How could a person survive this? How could I possibly function from this point on?

Was this our world? Was this going to be how things were? Because if the dead were coming back to life and eating us there was no going back, there was no triumphant return from a fucking zombie apocalypse. It was just run, fight and survive if you could. Then finally one day you would die, most likely in a bloody, nasty way. There was only death ahead of me, why not just face it head on?

As she came closer I opened my arms, but only to reach for her. I pulled her to me by her dress and grabbed her by the hair. I pushed her head down, her teeth away from any of my exposed flesh, and I sank the knife into her skull. It sank much easier in her little skull than the adults. Her head was not as thick as that of her grown zombie buddies. She fell in front of me and I pushed her back and away from me. Her sightless eyes stared up at the sky, her face now peaceful in real death. She was so little and now she was so broken.

I forced myself to get to my feet. I forced myself to walk over to the bloody mess that was Alicia. She moved.

She wasn't Alicia anymore.

Her eyes were white and glazed over, but she still knew I was there. She was dead, but she still moved with fake life. She still hungered. She reached for me. Her lips gaped open and her teeth clicked.

“Alicia.” Her name came out more like a sob than a word. I stared down at her body. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run, I wanted to leave her here, but I also didn’t want to go anywhere. I wanted to gather her up and bring her to the nearest hospital. I had to do something. But there was nothing I could do.

I knew she was dead.

I had failed my little sister and she had paid the ultimate price.

I couldn’t leave her like this. Her reanimated flesh now tried to push itself up from the ground to get to me. I reached forward and pressed the blade to her face.

I couldn’t do it.

I pushed it in and the blade sunk into her flesh with little resistance. She fell back against the grass.

She was dead.

I yanked the blade out of her face and stood. I wiped the blade on my pants. Should I grab her? Should we bring her somewhere and bury her?

I looked around at my surroundings. I barely saw the light of day, the bright blue sky, the hot summer day that seemed so out of place in this bleak end of the world scenario. I walked up the path of the closest house. The door hung open. This must be where some of the zombies came from. A house of horrors. Blood splattered the walls and a dead body lay strewn on the floor, too mutilated to move and attack. The twitch of the finger clued me in that even this state of being was still "alive".

I grabbed a blanket that was strewn haphazardly on the sofa. I walked with a purpose out of the house. I glanced around me just in case there were more of the dead about to strike.

I walked up to Alicia’s body and covered her with the blanket. I rolled her onto the thick material. I tucked it around her and lifted her onto my shoulder. I couldn’t leave her.

H
ANK and Barbara
turned as one as they heard the clomp of my feet up the path. Barbara was always smarter than Hank. She figured out what was going on first and I saw the realization wash over her face. She ran to me, her hands fluttered over the body that I had draped over my shoulder. The body of our little sister.

“She was bit, in Costco. The woman bit her,” I whispered. I pushed away from their hands, their faces gaped at me. They looked like fish yanked out of the water, their mouths wide in shock. I opened the door of the SUV with one hand, noting that the tire was changed and we were ready to go. That was something. I placed Alicia gingerly in the backseat. She was tiny, so she fit easily, but it was awkward getting her to prop up against the door so she wouldn't fall over. I pulled a box from the back to hold up against her so she wouldn’t do a face plant onto whoever was going to sit back there. I was driving, so Barbara or Hank would have to sit next to Alicia’s dead body. I didn’t want to think about that.

“Let’s go.” I held my hands out for the keys and Hank, his face drained of color, placed them in my hands.

“I wasn’t going to leave her back there,” I said, justifying my actions. I got behind the wheel and I didn't care at this point about their reactions. I just wanted to go. I wanted to put this horror show behind me. Even though I knew it would never be over. The freak show was only just beginning. The death of my sister was a testament to the horror of this new world. Barbara slipped into the passenger seat next to me. Hank, the puller of the short straw, had to ride in the seat next to Alicia’s body. His acceptance of his position allowed his wife a little respite, but from the look of pain on her face she was aware of what was right behind her.

Barbara and Alicia had never gotten along well. They did before my parents died, but the moment Barbara stepped up and tried to act like a mother, Alicia did her very best to put her in her place. Barbara, to her credit, had always been there for Alicia, had always struggled to help her, even when the girl tried her very best to sabotage anything she did.

Barbara had truly cared for my sister. She had been there for her when I couldn't or wouldn't.

Barbara’s sobs began the moment I pulled from the curb. She kept them low, but with once glance I saw the tears trailing down her cheeks and heard the hiccups as she tried to not make a spectacle of herself. My eyes burned and my hands fisted in rage. I couldn't push away the thoughts, the pain of what happened played over and over again. I couldn't stop the replay and the self-doubt, the could haves and the should haves, everything I could have done to prevent this tragedy.

But really, as I analyzed the replays, there was one underlying thought, one big glaring fact. No matter what I could have done, or should have done, it most likely would have ended this way. We had been caught unaware, I hadn’t reacted fast enough. I shouldn’t have allowed us to stop at the store like this. This was not just another hurricane. I wouldn’t make this mistake in the future. There was no more time for crying and acting weak. The goal was to survive and survival would take thinking with my head and not my heart. I needed to protect the people in this car, no matter how much they didn't like my rules.

I glanced in the rearview mirror as I pulled down the street. I saw three bodies in the middle of the road and remembered the gunshots from earlier. Hank had killed three of them, their bodies haphazardly strewn over the concrete. A calm descended over me when I saw those bodies. Hank was on the same page. He knew what was happening with the world. He had killed them. He knew there was no other choice. Just like I had no other choice with Alicia.

T
HE road
to the compound was a desolate stretch of highway. Once we passed through the last subdivisions of New Orleans East, the road turned to a swampy landscape that pressed in on both sides. Lake Pontchartrain was to our north and Lake Catherine to our south. The strip of land in the middle was prime real estate for fishing camps and seafood processing. It was Southern living at its finest.

We passed camp after camp with no sign of life. Nothing moved, not even a boat on the water. It wasn't until we got to a more heavily populated area that boasted multi-million dollar homes did the activity pick up, but still it was light. There were only a few cars on the road and only a small amount of people wandering around outside of their homes.

I made the turn south on the road that Zach and Blake had to construct themselves. The contractor that they had bought the property from had only done a minimal road from this area, not wanting easy access from the highway and keeping most of the traffic via boat. Zach and Blake had paved what was only a dirt road and expanded the bridge to accommodate larger vehicles. The contractor had brought all of his equipment in from barges, but the owners of MJ Security didn’t want to rely on just water access.

The road led to a modest two-lane causeway that traversed a small inlet of Lake Catherine. At its deepest point on this small section of swampy water, it would barely go over your head, but it was enough to keep out the curious. At the end of the bridge, a metal gate lay across the road, really only a pole to keep out the casual sightseer. I pulled up to the crossing gate and got out, moving it to the side so I could drive the SUV through.

I got back into the vehicle, and pulled through, then I got back out and closed the gate. It wasn’t that secure, anyone could get in, I would have to fix that. This wasn’t just a training facility now. It was going to be our refuge. It had to be safe.

The area of the compound was a five-mile island, right off the small piece of land that connected the two lakes. The land had been a marshy, grassy island, but the initial contractor had big dreams of building another multi-million dollar neighborhood in the area and he had filled in the land, reinforced the shores with retaining walls and installed a bunch of docks everywhere he planned to have a house. Then he had begun to construct cookie-cutter McMansions on the property. The man had been more interested in green energy and off-the-grid living than he could afford, so when he sunk thousands into a wind-turbine and no one had expressed any interest in purchasing his over-priced homes during a depression–he had called it quits and filed bankruptcy. Zach and Blake had scooped up the property for a bargain. Or that was the story. It was the perfect place for training and with the already constructed housing, the two men had set up houses for themselves and the perfect getaway for clients that needed a safe refuge.

The same attributes that had drawn Zach and Blake to the island also made it the perfect place for us to hole up and wait out this zombie apocalypse. The isolation was one a main factor. There were hardly any residential areas in a twenty-mile radius, and fewer people meant fewer infected. We were also fully stocked here with weapons, food and were in a prime location for living off the land. We had water and road access and it was easily defendable if we were to come under attack. Then add in the off-the-grid tech in the houses and warehouse, the wind energy and the water purification, and it was almost the perfect set-up.

I had been friends with Zach James and Blake Miller for years and I knew they had ulterior motives when purchasing this property, or at least Zach did. He was always a tad on the anti-establishment side of things and didn’t trust anyone, even our government. He was a good guy to know when the shit hit the fan and a better one to work for. He would get here and take control and put some order into this chaos.

I pulled up to the main complex, which was a steel building that housed the offices, storage area, barracks, and a kitchen facility. We could all stay here tonight. The compound ran off of wind energy, entirely autonomous from the main grid of Southeast Louisiana, so there would be electricity, no matter what happened. I also knew there was building material in the back. I needed to get a gate up and maybe even a fence around the entire compound so we couldn’t have any surprises pop up from the water. I didn’t know if zombies could swim, but I didn’t want to test the theory.

“There are bunks and private offices on the second floor. We can unpack the food and bring it to the kitchen and then you can get your personal items and pick a bunk upstairs,” I said, surprised at how crisp my voice came out, how together I sounded. My brother nodded mutely and got out of the vehicle, coming around to help his wife. He wrapped an arm around her lightly and gave her a quick hug. I held in a breath, wondering if they would break down, hoping that it wouldn't happen here. I couldn't deal with their emotions right now. I could barely deal with my own. But they didn't break down. They looked at me and nodded. It was time to get to work.

After we had unpacked, Barbara walked up to me as I surveyed the gate, trying to think of a good way to secure it.

“What are we going to do with Alicia?” Barbara asked.

“Bury her,” I said.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked me, her eyes leaking those tears again. It was unsettling how she dripped and no sound came out. I stared back at her, what did she want from me?

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said icily.

“Your sister is dead in the back of our SUV and you're like a damn robot. Show a little emotion, Tim,” Hank had joined us and when her voice raised, he pulled at her arm, his way of trying to get her to back off.

“Do you want me to cry, Barbara? Would that make you happy? Because I don’t know what difference that would make. Our lives just changed in a split second. Sitting here sobbing about it won’t save our lives. Because that’s what the issue is in this new world. Life or death. The dead body of my little sister in the back of this fucking SUV is proof of that. I let my fucking guard down. I let her throw her little fit, pandered to her emotional teenager ways and it killed her. When I feel that the danger is gone, when I feel like I can breathe, then I’ll cry. We can hug it out and say a prayer or whatever it is you have in mind as the proper way to react. But right now, this is how I'm dealing with it. Don't get all up in my shit because I'm not dripping all over the place like you.”

“Come on, Barb, help me unload the SUV.” Hank pulled her away from me. I didn’t know what she wanted from me. We were in the middle of a storm. She shouldn't expect me to stop and get all emo. Neck deep in shit is not the time to turn into a pussy. Letting your emotions get the best of you was a quick way of getting dead.

I could bury her. Put her in the ground and move on. Bottle it up and save it for later. It's what needed to be done.

Before I could bury my sister, I had things to do. So I gingerly took her out of the SUV and laid her on the grass away from the building. I would scope out the perfect place for her grave, but right now I had to get things in order.

I went to the communications room, the large room that housed the servers and the radio. I was able to hail Zach quickly by radio. Our cell phones hadn’t been able to get a signal since we got to the compound.

“I’m at the compound, James, you need to get your ass here STAT. The East is full of those things and…well, it just wasn’t easy getting here.”

“I’m glad you’re there. I’m trying to locate Miller and round up the rest of the group. Then we’ll follow you in.”

“Don’t let them bite you. It’s transmitted by the bite. They’re dead, James, the dead are walking around and they’re eating people.”

“They’re just infected people, Romeo, it’s just a quarantine because of a nasty bug that’s turning people into monsters. This will all blow over. Just sit tight, we’ll get it sorted. If we have to stay at the compound for a few weeks and live off of MREs, we’ll be good. Just keep your family safe.”

“No, James, I saw them get up after being torn to pieces,” I argued with him.

“Look, hold on, Martinez needs me, I gotta go. Just sit tight…we’ll get there, it’ll all be sorted out, you'll see. James out.” The radio crackled with static and I just dropped my head into my hands. Zach James had his head up his ass if he thought these were just infected humans. There was no virus that could raise the dead. This was biblical shit.

But he would figure it out quickly, hopefully sooner than later. He wasn’t a fool and watching a person get up off the ground with their guts around their ankles might clue him in. The shit had hit the fan and we had to brace for impact.

I stood up from the desk and went to the supply closet. I grabbed a shovel. I had to bury my sister and after that I had a fence to build. After that I would find something else to do because there would be no rest in this world. When the dead walked, when their only goal was to get you to join them, there was no peace.

There would be no peace until I finally joined them. But hopefully not for a while. I had shit to do.