Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (13 page)

"Oh, shit!" I said and stepped on the gas. I
considered beeping the horn to warn the others, but decided against
ringing the dinner bell. The zombie got smaller in the rearview
mirror as I got further away, and I was relieved when Jake and
Vinny jumped in and closed the doors behind them.

Metal screeched when I passed the other car.
Calling it a tight squeeze would be an understatement. Once clear,
I was able to pass the rest of the stalled cars and get onto the
highway.

Jake climbed over the center console,
situating himself in the passenger seat beside me. Meg's head
popped through the gap when I rolled to a stop on the grass off to
the side.

"So many cars," she marveled.

The sight was mind blowing. The highway was a
never-ending sea of vehicles that went on as far as the eye could
see in either direction. On both sides, the grass gave way to dense
foliage, overgrown by months of neglect. Pulling myself out of my
reverie, I took my foot off the brake pedal and let the car coast
along while the others continued to gawk at the captivating
scenery.

"I always wondered where cars went to die,"
joked Vinny. "This must be it."

"Either that," said Jake, "or we missed one
hell of a tailgate party."

* * *

If you've ever spent any length of time in
rush-hour traffic, you've probably fantasized about breaking free
from the pack and shooting past all those chumps sitting idle. I
can tell you this: it isn't as liberating as one would think. In
fact, it pretty much sucks ass. Without the benefit of flat asphalt
beneath the tires, the ride is bumpy. Try to exert any speed, and
you end up slamming your head against the roof of the car.

"Fuck my life," muttered Meg. "Are we there
yet?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," I heard my
brother-in-law say. Looking back at him through the rearview
mirror, there was no question that he was dead serious. His face
was a sickly shade of green and both hands were clamped over his
mouth. I knew exactly what would happen if he threw up like
that.

Jake picked up on it, too. "Stop the car. We
don't want a replay of the Chili's night."

Vinny was out of the car before it had come
to a complete stop and was on all fours, violently expelling his
nutritious vending machine meal. After a few tenuous minutes, he
returned to his seat and leaned his head back.

"I just want it on record that I hate this
shit," he reported.

"Duly noted, bro," said Jake.

Meg leaned away from her brother and crinkled
her nose. "Oh, God, you stink. Crack the windows."

I complied.

The Welcome Wagon was headed our way, and
with an apologetic look back at Vinny, I began driving again. He
answered the action with a miserable groan.

"Think anyone's broadcasting still?" Jake
asked no one in particular while he hit buttons on the radio. The
answer was no, and each time he progressed the numbers he was met
with static. Finally frustrated, he slapped at the power button and
turned it off. Three full passes through every AM and FM channel
yielded the same results.

"There's something up ahead," I said,
alerting the others to what looked like a military roadblock.
Considering the state of decay surrounding it, I didn't hold out
much confidence of being met by a group of soldiers; at least, not
a group of breathing ones.

I slowed to five miles-per-hour and tried to
find anything to bolster my hope. A zombie stepped from behind the
line of trucks wearing the telltale green and gray tattered remains
of an army uniform. As the sound of the truck got closer, more
followed, some wearing the same uniform, and others dressed in
civilian clothes.

Increasing speed again, I peeled my gaze away
and looked forward, huffing in frustration. Even though I expected
as much, I was still disappointed.

The only good thing to come from passing the
roadblock was that the highway beyond it was significantly less
congested and we were able to drive on the actual road. Even
better, we could go a lot faster now that we didn't have to worry
about getting a concussion from repeated hits to the head from
bouncing around.

The monotonous drone of the tires cruising
along the open road was something I hadn't heard in a long time.
Who would have thought I'd miss something so innocuous? It was a
liberating feeling.

"What does that sign say?" asked Jake,
squinting to read a highway marker as we passed.

"Sarasota. Fruitville Road."

"Let's turn off there and find a place to
stay the night. I don't want to have to sleep in the car."

Saying goodbye to the highway, I exited onto
Fruitville Road. At first, the road was clear, but after a short
distance it became difficult to navigate.

"Take a right," instructed Vinny. "That road
looks passable."

We turned onto Honore Ave, a heavily wooded
residential street with homes set back amidst the greenery. A long,
winding driveway on the right came into view, and I turned in.

"What are you doing?" asked Jake.

"Seeing where this leads. You said we needed
to find a place to stay, right? I didn't see any undead on the
road, and this is set far enough back that we may get lucky."

At the end of the drive, two houses faced
each other. One was large and palatial, the other small and quaint.
I pulled to a stop in front of the smaller home, and noticed the
others looking at me for an explanation.

"Less to clear," I answered.

Waiting in the car to see if our arrival
would bring us any unwanted attention, we went over the plan for
clearing the house. After fifteen minutes had passed without so
much as a peep, we cracked the windows and left Daphne in the car.
Ten seconds later, I went back and snatched up the barking dog,
stuffing her into the carrier. Just because nothing had come
a-knocking yet, didn't mean I was under any illusions that the area
was safe enough to leave her outside advertising our visit.

"Satisfied?" I hissed down at her. "Now zip
it!"

Things were looking up for us it seemed. Not
only was the front door unlocked, but the house was completely
empty. The backyard was a slightly different story. Two undead were
wading through the shallow end of the grimy pool—one very rotund
woman in a swimsuit, and a man in regular clothes. My guess? The
owner of this lovely house was taking a dip when the other one
stumbled in. It wasn't worth opening the door to go outside, they
couldn't get out of the pool, and I didn't feel like bothering with
them.

"It's freezing in here," said Meg, rubbing
her arms.

I stopped in mid stride and stood in utter
disbelief. My family went on the defensive, misunderstanding my
reaction for fear.

"What is it?" asked Jake, turning in a
three-sixty to find the source of my attention. Seeing nothing, he
looked at me expectantly.

"It's cold in here," I repeated.

"And?"

I turned to face him, my hands in the air to
call attention to the room.

"Seriously?" I asked, getting annoyed with
being the only one with half a brain cell left. "Listen. What do
you hear?"

"He closed his eyes, concentrating on the
sound."

"Air conditioning," he replied
matter-of-factly. The light bulb went off, and his expression of
disbelief mirrored mine. "Air conditioning! They have power!"

"Dibs on the shower!" shouted Vinny as he ran
for the bathroom.

"Save some hot water for us," Meg said to his
fleeing form.

The hum of a working refrigerator was quite
possibly the most glorious thing I had ever heard. I pulled open
the doors to reveal fully stocked shelves. I didn't trust much of
what was in the fridge side, but the freezer turned out to be the
Mecca of food. Neatly stacked packages of steak, chicken, and
ground beef made me so happy that I almost cried. When I discovered
the shelf full of Popsicles and ice cream, I went into crazy mode,
giggling maniacally and grabbing for a container of chunky
monkey.

A freshly showered and shaved Vinny emerged
from the bathroom wearing a bathrobe that could only have belonged
to the lady of the house. Lucky for the rest of us, that lady was
huge, and none of his bits were hanging out. He held his clothes
out in front of him, pinching them between his thumb and index
finger.

"Yo, this place have a washing machine?"

After showering and wrapping myself in one of
the house’s many towels, I retrieved our freshly washed belongings
from the dryer and inhaled the fabric softener's lilac aroma. When
I passed everyone their respective items, they reveled in the bliss
of fluffy, clean attire.

I neatly folded my clothes and set them down
in the master bedroom and went through the closet. The fat swimmer
lived alone, if I was going by the closet. What is it with us
always choosing the house with the biggest inhabitants? I slipped
on one of the huge moo-moos and grabbed a couple extra in case the
others wanted to preserve the fresh, clean condition of their
clothes for as long as they could.

Jake was at the stove cooking four large
steaks wearing nothing but a towel. He was a secure man and didn't
balk at being half naked. The four of us sat at a real dinner
table, under the air conditioning, and ate a meal comprised of real
food.

I motioned to the television, "Think there's
anything good on?" I asked sarcastically while loading up the
dishwasher.

Meg and Vinny ran for the remote, Meg getting
there first, and they sat on the sofa, leaning forward with
anticipation. She flipped through channel after channel, finding
only black screens or gray fuzz. By the time we hit channel twelve,
my optimism was squashed, and I bent down behind the sofa to play
with Daphne.

The sound of a male voice boomed from the
speakers like a ghost in the machine.

"…west on University Parkway to The Ca' d'Zan
waterfront mansion. This is a recording. This message will repeat
shortly."

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Jake.

We sat shoulder to shoulder on the sofa
examining the map displayed on the screen and waited impatiently
for the message to repeat itself. On the left side of the map, I
could see The Ca' d'Zan circled in red marker. I knelt in front of
the television and found Honore Avenue.

"We're close," I said. "If we take a right
out of the driveway, University Parkway is only a few blocks up.
The Ca' d'Zan is only four or five miles down on that street."

I moved back to the sofa, not wanting to
block anyone's view when the loop started again.

"If you are seeing this broadcast, know that
you are not alone. A group of survivors have taken over the Ca'
d'Zan in Sarasota. This community will grant asylum to all. You
must be prepared to do your fair share to maintain the community.
For those that wish to find a safe place to thrive, Asylum awaits
you. We will open the gates during daylight hours only. We wish you
a safe journey. To reach Asylum, head west on University Parkway to
the Ca' d'Zan waterfront mansion. This is a recording. This message
will repeat shortly."

We watched the same message replay two more
times before turning off the television and erupting in a frenzied
discussion. We all spoke at once, hurdling questions at each
other.

"How do we know this is real?"

"What if we get there and they're gone?"

"What did he mean by fair share?"

"What if they don't allow pets?" Can you
guess which question I asked?

Jake threw up his hands. "Everybody shut up.
This is getting us nowhere. We can't answer these questions. The
only thing we can do is take a family vote."

I raised my hand like a schoolgirl. "Are we
going with the majority vote or do we need to be unanimous?"

He thought about it for a minute. "I think
this is too big a decision to not be unanimous. We stay together no
matter what, and if we aren't all in, then none of us are. Does
that sound okay with you?"

We all nodded our heads, and I prayed for
this to be easy.

"Okay, here goes. All in favor of finding
Asylum raise your hand."

Four hands shot into the air, and we
cheered.

"Then it's settled," I declared. "We leave
for Asylum first thing in the morning. But tonight, we party!" I
went into the kitchen and pulled a cheap bottle of champagne from
the top shelf. One bottle split between four people doesn't really
make a party, but it at least gave us something to toast with.

We pulled down all the shades and closed the
vertical blinds to cover the sliding door to the backyard before
settling in to watch a movie. Jake went through the stack of DVDs
next to the television, and I heard him laugh.

"What?" I asked.

"Just wait for it," he replied, popping in
the movie and cuddling up beside me. When the menu popped up, I
groaned.

"Seriously? In the middle of nowhere you
manage to pull Couples Retreat out of your ass?"

He just laughed at me and kissed my
forehead.

The next morning we took advantage of the
luxuries and each of us took another shower. Jake opted to share
mine, and he made sure every inch of me was clean…twice. We
gathered all the nonperishables and stacked them by the door to
make it easy to load them into the truck. Before opening the door,
we peered out every window looking for anything hostile. Still
nothing.

"You know," said Meg. "It's almost a shame to
leave this place. Hot water, electricity, and a packed freezer.
This place has everything we need."

"Including two unwanted guests in the pool,"
Vinny reminded her.

"That too."

In no time, we were packed into the Armada
and navigating the winding driveway back to Honore Avenue.

"Jeez," complained Meg, "I don't remember the
road being so bumpy yesterday."