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Authors: Michael J. Totten

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BOOK: Resurrection: A Zombie Novel
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And now they wanted to give up on all of it and walk into the jaws of a pitiless continent.

 

*   *   *

 

Annie moved the rest of her belongings into her room in the guesthouse and shut the door. Wind whistled outside her window as evergreen boughs rose and fell on the other side of the glass. She could see her own breath and thought about putting on a hat and some gloves.

Instead she crawled shivering into bed fully clothed and pulled the cold covers up to her chin.

She shuddered when she thought about Frank.

And Parker. Oh God, poor Parker. He really got run through the wringer. She knew what it was like. She was the only one who knew what it was like.

For all she knew, they were the only two people on earth who knew what it felt like to have everything that makes us human stripped away and replaced with nothing but ashes.

At least now she was freed from her terrible secret.

Parker was not Jesus. He hadn’t died for her sins. He suffered for his own. He suffered something awful, but he suffered
for
her, in a sense, and relieved her of a terrible burden.

It might turn out that Parker suffered for everyone, even Kyle. If a vaccine could be one day made from her blood, Kyle could get an injection and become immune too. He’d survive if he gets bitten. So would Hughes.

But for now, what on earth was she supposed to do about Kyle? How was she supposed to feel about him? Had he turned into somebody else? Or was he never the man she thought he was in the first place? She had no idea. The man was a stranger. Kyle himself might not know who he was anymore. Earlier she had felt almost certain that she had a future with him, but the road ahead was unmapped and unlit. For now she did not want to touch him, did not want to look at him, did not even enjoy thinking about him.

She closed her eyes, shivered under the covers, and thought about the house she grew up in and how warm her bedroom was in South Carolina, how summer nights were often so hot, she had to sleep on the bed instead of in it.

December hadn’t arrived yet. Charleston was still almost balmy this time of year. Charleston was always balmy compared with the greater Seattle area no matter what time of year. How much colder would the snowy mountains of Idaho be? The high deserts of Wyoming? The windy frozen plains of Nebraska?

She’d shatter in that kind of cold. Of that she was certain. But that was the point. Only healthy humans could survive in those places without technology during the winter. The landscape would be littered with the frozen remains of the infected and those they had desiccated. Until they reached the American South, anyway. Winter was not going to kill all the infected ones there. But if she could make it to Atlanta, she’d make it to Charleston. She’d have to risk everything, and she probably wouldn’t make it, but she found herself smiling and crying because she had finally found a way home.

The others would likely never see home again. Hughes could never visit his family’s graves even if he could manage to find them amid Seattle’s rubble and ashes. Parker would never see his old street, wherever that was. Kyle would never see Portland again or build his little dream town on that island.

Maybe he could find one in the Atlantic. Maybe.

Parker was going to change. He had just passed through an unspeakable transformation, but he wasn’t done yet. Not even close. He had no idea what was coming, that the virus would rewire his mind.

Neurons that fire together, wire together
.

She shuddered.

Would he forgive her? Blame her? Blame himself? Blame Kyle? Blame Hughes? Blame all of them? Even Frank? Would he kill them all and then himself in a moment of blackness?

Or would Parker see in time that he was Annie’s blood brother now, that he, like her, just might help save what’s left of humanity, that without him, Atlanta would not be possible. It wouldn’t even be thinkable.

She scoffed. Saving humanity. It sounded ludicrous even when she didn’t say it out loud. Who was she to save humanity? Who was Parker? Who were any of them? They were just people. Ordinary people who were lucky to still be alive. Annie was immune by sheer chance. Parker was only immune because he tried to kill Kyle. Annie was not worthy. Parker was even less worthy.

But they would go to Atlanta or they would die trying.

 

*   *   *

 

Parker could hardly move after Hughes cut his ropes. And he could hardly believe it when Hughes told him he wasn’t going to be shot, stabbed, or hurled over the cliff. Parker deserved any and even all those fates, but by the grace of God, fate, and Annie Starling, he was given another life.

He should have died in that room. He had survived the worst pathogen ever to strike his species. It obliterated everything but the body. As far as Parker knew, he and Annie were the only ones who had ever come back.

He owed her his life. They all did. Not just because of her blood, but because of her decency. She had saved him not only from the disease, but from the cliff.

Hughes told him the plan. He’d agree to any plan at this point—not that Hughes had asked his opinion.

They were going to Georgia. By land. To find doctors.

It made sense, but Jesus. The odds of survival didn’t look good. His odds of surviving if he did not go, however, were worse. The biggest reason he’d go with them, however, aside from the fact that Hughes didn’t give him a choice, was because he wouldn’t leave Annie.

They had a faint flickering
chance
of making it, that the Center for Disease Control was still there, that doctors could take blood from Annie Starling and make a vaccine. And didn’t Annie say she was from next door in South Carolina? The girl was practically going home.

“You sorry?” Hughes said.

“More than you’ll ever know,” Parker said.

“You need to demonstrate that to the others.”

“I know.”

“They’re waiting for you outside.”

“I have no idea what to say. What could I possibly say?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it all scripted out.”

Parker blinked at him.

“Think of it,” Hughes said, “as a reinitiation.”

Parker tried to stand, but his back gave out. So did his legs. He was broken. “I need some help.”

Hughes set down the butcher knife, bent over, and all but pulled Parker up on his feet. Damn, that man was strong. He was the last person Parker ever wanted to cross.

He leaned on Hughes as they made their way down the stairs and through the wretched living room.

Annie and Kyle were waiting for him outside, as Hughes had said. For a moment Parker expected to see Frank. For the briefest of instants he had forgotten, and he felt lacerated when he remembered. He could still faintly taste Frank’s blood in his mouth. It would take Parker a long time indeed to ever feel healthy and clean. He wasn’t sure he ever would.

 Annie looked nervous. Kyle just stood there, molten with hatred. Parker could not meet his eyes.

The front lawn was an expanding graveyard. The original two corpses still lay there, plus a third corpse, the body of the thing that had bitten him.

Hughes told Parker to stand next to the corpses, close enough that he could smell them. The others kept their distance.

“Hi,” Parker said.

Annie said hi and looked embarrassed, though Parker had no idea why. Kyle said nothing.

“I don’t know what to say,” Parker said lamely. What could a person say after all that?

“My man,” Hughes said. “I told you I’ve got this all scripted.”

“You could start with
Kyle, I’m sorry
,” Kyle said.

“Okay,” Parker said. “I’m sorry. Honest to God, Kyle, I’m sorry. I’m even more sorry about Frank.”

“We all are,” Annie said. “It’s our fault, not yours.”

“Annie,” Kyle said.

“Later,” Hughes said. “Right now, you,” he said to Parker, “are going to take a vow. I’ve already prepared it. You get no say in what’s in it.”

Parker swallowed. “Okay.”

Hughes didn’t say
you
will accept this or die
because he didn’t have to. Parker was in no position to argue. The others had the right to dictate terms. Besides, he was standing next to three corpses. Hughes no doubt chose that location on purpose. It made an impression. It would have made even more of an impression if Frank’s body were there too. They were going to bury him, right? They couldn’t just leave him at the bottom of the cliff where Parker deserved to be.

“Raise your right hand,” Hughes said.

Parker raised his right hand.

“I’d make you put your hand on a Bible,” Hughes said, “but we don’t have one. Repeat after me.”

Parker straightened up. This was serious.


I, Jonathan Anthony Parker
,” Hughes said.

“I, Jonathan Anthony Parker,” Parker said.


Do hereby swear to serve and protect Annie Starling for the rest of my life
,” Hughes said.

“Do hereby swear to serve and protect Annie Starling for the rest of my life,” Parker said.


She is the most precious person alive
.”

“She is the most precious person alive.”

Annie choked up.


I will guard her with my life
.”

“I will guard her with my life.”


I will keep her from harm and follow her to the ends of the earth
.”

“I will keep her from harm and follow her to the ends of the earth.”


If I ever again commit violence against anyone in this group, I shall be, and deserve to be, summarily executed
.”

Parker swallowed hard. He knew that was justified, but it was difficult for him to say. He said it anyway. “If I ever again commit violence against anyone in this group … I shall be, and deserve to be, summarily executed.”

Kyle stared at him, and stared at him hard. Kyle wanted to execute him that instant and add another corpse to the lawn. That was clear.

“You have no other role,” Hughes said, “none whatsoever, from now until the end of the world.”

“I have no other role,” Parker said, “none whatsoever, from now until the end of the world.”

“You didn’t have to repeat that part,” Hughes said.

Parker understood that, but he wanted to say it anyway.

Hughes shook his hand.

Kyle just stared.

Annie looked uncomfortable. Parker wanted to hug her, but he doubted she’d be all right with that. He was pretty sure Kyle would deck him. Or stab him.

Annie stayed behind as Hughes and Kyle headed toward the house. On his way up the stairs, Hughes turned back, silently beckoning Parker to come with him.

But Parker wanted to walk in with Annie, and she wasn’t moving. Was she waiting for him, or did she intend to stay outside by herself? He couldn’t blame her if she wanted some space—especially from him—but there was no one else in the world he’d rather be near. She might be the only person on earth who could forgive him in her bones for what he did to Frank.

“Well,” Parker said to Annie. “I guess I’ll go in then.” He didn’t know what else to do or to say. It would be a long time before any of them ever trusted him, and it would take almost as long before he trusted himself.

His back felt like someone had beaten him half to death with a hammer. The side of his head felt exactly as it should after someone smashed in the side of it with the butt of a shotgun. He walked slowly and a little lopsidedly. Annie walked beside him as he struggled.

“I won’t let you down,” he said and winced from the pain.

“You’d better not,” she said.

“I understand if you don’t believe me.”

“We’ll see.”

They walked in silence for a couple of moments. Parker did his best to keep the pain to himself, but there was only so much he could hide it.

“How was it up there?” she said. “Do you … remember much?”

He blew out his breath. “I remember. It was bad.” He wished he could forget, at least for a short while like she had, but he knew he never would.

She nodded and looked at a place in the distance, at something Parker couldn’t see, as if she remembered something she could never talk about or knew something she hadn’t yet told him.

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed the handrail. This wouldn’t be easy. He thought he might lose his balance, but Annie placed her hand on the small of his back so he wouldn’t fall.

 

END OF BOOK ONE

ALSO BY MICHAEL J. TOTTEN

 

The Road to Fatima Gate

In the Wake of the Surge

Where the West Ends

Taken: A Novel

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

Michael J. Totten is a novelist and a foreign correspondent who has reported from the Middle East, Eastern Europe, Latin America, and the former Soviet Union.

 

His first book,
The Road to Fatima Gate
, won the Washington Institute Book Prize in 2011.

 

He lives with his wife in Oregon and is a former resident of Beirut.

Copyright © 2014 by Michael J. Totten

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in

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