Zombiekill

ZOMBIEKILL

Russ Watts

Copyright 2016 by Russ Watts

This book is for those who prefer to show compassion instead of hate and mercy instead of aggression.

Although perhaps it is for those who do a little of both.

“Happy are those who dare courageously to defend what they love.”

Ovid.

PROLOGUE

Charlie smiled as her mother performed a clumsy pirouette. Some days were better than others, and today was a
good
day. Her mother was happy, showing off in her revealing red dress which had sequins around the hem and a little red bow at the back. The dress was ankle length and very glamorous, and Charlie knew it was an old favorite of her mother’s, one of those items that never got used, but was too good to give away. Smiling was too much of a rarity these days, especially now the rain had stopped. It was another sunny day, which normally would be reason enough to be happy. Yet they longed for rain. The winter hadn’t been a problem, but now they were getting longer days and less rain, and that meant less to drink. They all knew what it meant, yet nobody wanted to confront the matter, preferring to wait and hope. Getting through the winter was hard, but the coming summer would be far worse. The rain would stop, and the water would dry up. Charlie knew they were facing some serious problems for which there was no easy answer. There were plenty of fresh lakes and rivers nearby, but actually getting to them was nigh on impossible. Venturing outside was not an option. The corpses were still fresh and strong;
maybe not as quick as they used to be
, but they were still dangerous. Any attempt to move through the streets of Peterborough would’ve meant death for anyone insane enough to try it. Charlie tried not to think about the future too much. It was too hard to picture it; to think that one day this might all be over. All they could do was live in the moment, make it from one day to the next, and wait for the rescue.

There was little else to do right now, so her mother had decided they would host a fashion parade, trying on all their old clothes that hadn’t seen daylight for years. Charlie loved these days when her father was busy strengthening the fence outside leaving them alone. As much as she loved her father, there was a special bond she had with her mother. It had been there for as long as she could remember. Her father was under a lot of pressure, she knew that, and he found it hard to relax. That meant her mother felt his burdens, too, and having the opportunity to just relax and laugh with each other didn’t come along too often.

“It’s great, Mom, really good. You should show Dad.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Jemma as she curtsied in front of her daughter. “I feel a bit silly. It’s a little revealing for someone my age.” Jemma tugged at the waist. “And it barely fits anymore. This is such an old dress. I haven’t worn it for years. Maybe one day I’ll get the chance. I just need to lose twenty pounds.”

“Oh, whatever,” said Charlie as she jumped up off her bed to stand beside her mother. “If anything you could gain twenty pounds.” They stood side by side in the full length mirror looking at each other. Since they had been forced to lock the front door and barricade the windows, and with no prospect of going out again, their diet had meant they had all lost some weight. They had to keep to strict rations, and there was no snacking between meals anymore. Charlie knew she was lucky though. Her father, Kyler, had seen it coming and stocked the house to last them several months. He had got as much as he could from the store before it closed its doors for the last time. It was a strange situation, but it wasn’t forever. Charlie knew it would get sorted out eventually. One day the army would roll through town and announce it was all over. They were just sorting out the large cities first, and they had a lot to sort out, so she knew she just had to be patient. One day the dead would be gone, and Peterborough would be a nice, quiet little town again. One day she would be able to go back outside without fear of being attacked. With
them
out there, going out onto the streets meant certain death. One day, things would get back to normal. One day.

Charlie suddenly became aware of how boring she looked compared to her mother. Every day she dressed in the same old thing: jeans, a loose baggy top, and a UCLA sweater on cold days. She never bothered with make-up and tied her blonde hair up in a bun. If she kept her blue eyes hidden, she could almost pass as a boy. It was something they joked about occasionally, about how her father had been so desperate to have a son that he had gotten both a son and a daughter in Charlie. When she was younger he would take her out on his boat and show her how to fish, how to
really
fish. The days of going out on the lakes were gone, but she remembered them fondly. Right now she wanted to be a girl, to be Charlotte, not Charlie, and decided she would try on a dress too. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had put a dress on. That was a lie. She could remember exactly when.

Jackson had taken her to Portland to some Italian restaurant. She had worn a slinky black dress that night and even let her hair down. They had been going out for six months, and she was sure that he was going to ask her to move in. Jackson had broken up with her over dessert, and that was the last time she had bothered to put on a dress.

Charlie felt a little insecure beside her mother who had long blonde hair and a shapely figure that was very attractive for a forty-nine-year-old woman. Charlie hoped she had the same figure when she was older. It was just effortless for her. Her mother was a real woman, not a girl pretending to be one.

“Why don’t you try it on?” Jemma turned her back toward her daughter. “Go on. Unzip me, and try it on. I’d love to see you in it.”

Charlie reached for the zip but hesitated. “Wait. Why don’t you show Dad first? Go on, I’m sure he’d love to see you in it. You look hot, Mom.”

Jemma turned around and smiled. “Thank you for saying so, but I don’t think your Father wants to see me like this. He’ll just say I’m wasting time.”

“What a load of crap. Wasting time? What else are we going to do? Go for a hike? Go fishing or get in the car and pop over to Manchester for some retail therapy?”

Charlie laughed but then saw the sadness spreading over her mother and wished she hadn’t suggested anything. Talk of going outside was akin to blasphemy. It was impossible, and they all knew it. When you couldn’t have something, it was easier to ignore it than talk about it.

“One day, Charlie, I’ll take you. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Jemma turned around and offered her back again to her daughter. “Now get me out of this dress. I’d rather see you in it than look at myself any longer. You’re beautiful, Charlotte, and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

When her parents spoke there was often something in their tone, a sadness that seemed to invade their every waking moment. It would lift now and again, but it was back now. It was the thought of leaving, or of
not
leaving that had brought it back now. What if Peterborough never changed? What if the military couldn’t clear the corpses away? What if the streets stayed full of them, and there was no way out of this, ever?

“One day, Mom, you can take me to Boston,” said Charlie as she brought her hands up to the zipper. “We’ll go and stay in a five star hotel, Dad can go to the Patriots, and we’ll shop like we’ve never shopped before. Just you see.”

“One day,” mumbled Jemma.

Charlie had to believe this wasn’t it. It had only been a few months. Surely they were getting on top of things by now? The TV had said the military were going to concentrate on the major cities first and would work their way to the outer suburbs eventually. They were to wait for rescue, but so far there had been precious little sign of any. The corpses walking through the streets of Peterborough had appeared months ago, just when they had appeared around the rest of the country, and they had not gone anywhere. Their ranks had only been swelled, and now there were thousands of them. Once the TV and radio had died, the power had gone with it a few days later. People had panicked then. Their neighbors and friends had all gone outside to make a run for it, to find help, to find shelter; Charlie was thankful her father had convinced them to stay put. She had seen so many of their neighbors killed, the corpses taking them down in the roads and streets and gardens, that she often wondered if they were the only people left alive in the whole town.

There was a knock on the bedroom door and then it swung open. Kyler came into the room, his work boots banging loudly on the wooden floorboards. He was like a whirlwind, bringing with him a blast of fresh air. He wore a thick green jacket covered in oil patches and tears, and his hair was unbrushed as if he had only just got up out of bed. He was carrying a large spanner in one hand and a greasy cloth in the other.

“Jemma, have you seen my…” He trailed off when he saw his wife in the resplendent red dress. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. “I…well, I…you…”

Charlie broke out laughing as Jemma walked over to her husband. “Have I seen your what?”

“Have you seen the…”

“I think what you’re trying to say, Dad, is that Mom looks good, right?”

Kyler looked at Charlie and then back to his wife. He looked her up and down and nodded. “Yeah, totally. I mean I’m just not used to seeing you like…like this. You look…different.”

“Different?” Jemma winked at Charlie and then flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulders. In a low husky voice, she said, “Different or sexy?”

Kyler let out a low laugh. “Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?” He leaned in for a kiss and giggling Jemma shrieked, pushing him away.

“Kyler, no, you’ll ruin the dress. You’re going to get your dirty hands all over me.”

“That’s the idea,” replied Kyler playfully as he stole a quick kiss on his wife’s cheek and threatened her with his thick grubby hands.

Charlie sank onto her bed. Her father looked like he wanted to rip that dress off her mother, which was a little more than Charlie could stand. “All right you two, get a room.”

“Oh I’m sorry, Charlie,” said Kyler sarcastically. He smirked as he looked upon his daughter. “Are we disturbing you? Don’t you have some homework to do? Some errands to run?”

“No. I’m happy here in
my
room, thank you.” Charlie loved seeing her parents happy together. Sometimes she felt guilty for being at home; for getting in the way. Sometimes she wished she had gone to college as she had planned instead of staying behind and working in the local grocery store. Then again, she had to admit that she was content in Peterborough, and if she had gone she would’ve missed out on seeing her parents so much.

“Say, Charlie, why don’t you pop downstairs and help me in the garage. I’ll be down in ten minutes,” said Kyler as he continued admiring his wife.

“Ten minutes?” Jemma frowned and put her hands on her hips.

“Sorry, you’re right, of course,” said Kyler. He turned to Charlie. “Make it five.”

As her parents burst out laughing, Charlie put her hands over her ears. “Ugh, gross. Get out, Dad, get out, get out, get out. You’re disgusting, both of you!”

“See you later,” said Kyler as he left the room chuckling. “Take care of each other.”

“Right, Charlie, you have to help me out of this thing,” announced her mother as she sauntered back over to the bed. “Seriously, it’s only staying up because I’m breathing in. I need more oxygen, so get it off me.”

Charlie stood up grinning. “Okay, turn around.” Charlie ran her fingers over the silver chain that ran around her mother’s neck. A small silver heart shaped pendant dangled from it, a present from Charlie two Christmases ago. Charlie slid her hands around her mother’s shoulders and rested her head on her neck.

“I love you, Mom.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Jemma.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” said Charlie, lying. How could she tell her mother she was jealous of her? Seeing her parents together had made her think of Jackson. He was long gone, and though she had loved him, those feelings had gone quickly after he had broken up with her. The truth was that she felt lonely. She got way more attention now the world was full of zombies than she ever had before. The problem was the only men out there weren’t interested in taking her out to dinner. They wanted her
for
dinner.

Jemma put a hand on her daughter’s. “It’s going to be all right you know. They’ll find us one day.” Her voice was soft and all the playfulness was gone. When she spoke, she was serious but kind. “You’ll be fine, Charlotte. You’re twenty-one, and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Just remember that. Not every day is going to be shitty, and not every day is going to be a rainbow full of dancing unicorns. But I can tell you that every single day that you’re on this planet I will love you and look out for you. Your Father too. We’ll always be here for you. So quit your worrying, and get this damn dress off me before I pass out.”

Charlie sucked in a deep breath and raised her head. She began to tug at the zipper on the dress. “Okay, Mom, no need to get all sentimental on me. I was just thinking—”

“Wait,” said Jemma suddenly. “What’s that?”

“What?” Charlie peered over her mother’s shoulder at the window. The thin curtains were drawn leaving a gap in the center only an inch wide. She preferred not to look outside too often. Not much changed, and there were so many zombies out there that she didn’t need any reminders.

“There. Someone’s running. I just saw them skirt around that van.” Jemma went to the window and drew back one of the curtains.

Charlie nervously approached the window. Their house overlooked a narrow road that bordered the edge of town. There was a field beyond the road fringed with tall grass and even taller weeds. A lone oak tree protruded from the tall grass like a lighthouse, its branches spreading out far and wide like beams of light. Charlie looked up and down the road, scanning for the van in amongst the horde of corpses. She had spent too many hours looking at the road from her window, and knew where the van was. It was an old courier van parked outside Mr. Riley’s house. The delivery guy had made his last delivery there and had never been seen again. Neither had Mr. Riley.