Surviving The Aftermath (Book 1): The Dead Linger

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Ending

Chapter 1

She awakes, eyes fluttering open, to the faint sound of chirping, images of a beautiful spring morning run through her head, must be the weekend because her alarm didn’t go off. The only days she allowed herself to sleep in. As her mind wanders to the list of items she has on the schedule today, flashes of recollection from the night before cross her mind. Feet pounding the pavement, the ache in her muscles, the strain of running, running so hard her lungs burned. She has that coopery taste in the back of her throat. That can’t be good. She remembers looking over her shoulder at faces, the bloody rotting faces chasing after her, arms outstretched and reaching for her. Suddenly reality slams back into her, and she sits straight up, heading spinning a little from lack of food and water. Looking around she sees that she was sleeping on a pile of old clothes a under a dripping ceiling, with a large gaping hole in the roof, the smell of stale and mustiness assault her senses. She wasn’t really sure how long had she been here, but it was morning and she was crazy hungry. Oh breakfast, best meal of the day. Her mouth was watering just thinking about the delicious eggs and hot crispy bacon, maybe throw some pancakes on the side, a nice cup of coffee. Shoot she’d settle for anything edible at the moment. Chips, candy bar, whatever. She lost her pack in the fray last night. It had been ripped right how off her back. There went her extras, food, weapons and water. She’d spent months scavenging and lost it all in the blink of an eye. She had her bat, all that was left, it had gotten her out of plenty of jams and would continue to do so.

But as she looked around, taking in her new surroundings, it appeared to be an attic. There were old toys and clothes, looks like old time movies for a projector and loads of boxes. The sun was coming in from a small crescent shaped window, the sun is also coming from the hole in the roof where she fell through the night before. The sun is so bright and warm outside, it must be April or May, definitely spring like weather. The sky was that awesome shade of blue with those white fluffy clouds scattered throughout. The warmth seeping through the window and hole from the roof was so nice. She could almost smell the green grass outside, she was reminded of grade school, in those last couple months of the year, staring outside from the class window just waiting for recess. Waiting for those three months of freedom, where you have nothing to do but play outside and sleep late.

She glances down out of the memory, out of her delightful day dream and back to reality. Reality, that cruel bitch, and what a shitty reality it was now too. A reality filled with guttural moans, howls and shrieks of the dead and damned, and those yet to die. Smelling that putrid rot, a nasty stench wafts through the air, body’s decay that have been left to rot in the street, melting in the hot sun. Thankfully it’s a two story house she fell into, because there they were, milling around, looking for her, waiting for her to show. They wanted her flesh, her blood, and her brains. Last night she thought she was so smart, moving around in the dark, slipping in and out of the shadows, oh yeah those punks can’t see me she had thought. But how could she forget, they can smell you. Soon she had attracted a rather large number of them chasing/shambling after her, she didn’t even know how long she ran for, then she was lost in some neighborhood subdivision and they were closing in. Managing to find a nice low hanging limb from a pine tree she was able to climb quickly up and launch herself on to the roof of a house, no time to contemplate if it was a good or bad idea she fell right through a weak spot in the roof. Now she lay here, trying to think what to do next. Her ankle was obviously sprained, it was swollen and bruised, and she could still walk on it with a limp, but running is definitely out of the question at the moment. How do I get out of this mess? She asked herself. This seems like a pretty big house, maybe there are other survivors downstairs below. But then again what if they aren’t surviving at all, what if they’ve changed, mutated to the undead. It’s been months, long months since the news has gone off the air, no more music or updates from the radio stations either. TV was adios’ed within a week or two of the initial outbreak.  She was on her own, had been practically since the beginning of all this crazy mess.

“Shake it off Jill.” she says out loud, kind of to pump herself up for the next step.

“Food, you need food.” she whispers barely audible.

Taking in her surroundings, Jill looks around the attic for the door pushing boxes and some cobwebs, out of the way, Jill sidles up to the door in the floor.  For some reason an image of her family comes to her mind’s eye, a picture of better days. Where were they? Would she ever see them again? Sometimes she found herself thinking of them often, Jill had a brief pity party.

“Ok Jill focus, you can’t stay here much longer or you die”

Jill had gotten very good at talking to herself. So many thoughts raced through her head as she readied to open the door. What if their dead down there or what if its flesh eaters, or what if they’re living and they think I’m a zombie and try to kill me? 

“Damn it Jill get a frick’n grip”. She mutters. She opens the door slow, so slowly, that it doesn’t squeak an inch. She peeks with just one eye, it’s dark, but thankfully it’s day time so that allows for some light to filter through windows and shine up and down the hallway. There’s blood, old dried blood at the end of the hall by a room that looks to belong to a little girl, or did. She squeezes her eyes shut and looks again at all the blood soaked through on the carpet, old brown blood, on a carpet that was obviously beige once. The hallway walls once a vibrant yellow, are now accented with splattered blood as well. Jill notices a couple rooms down the hall, the doors wide open. She needs a better look to be sure the coast is clear, so she takes a deep breath and opens the floor hatch door all the way and sticks her head out. She looks around calmly, silently, she listens, and she lays there on the attic floor, blood rushing to her head taking in her new surroundings. Jill decides it’s as safe as it can be and makes the choice to drop down into the hallway. Jill already realizes she’s not alone in this place, months of sleeping with one eye open, using your sixth sense to feel out another presence in the area, the prickling hairs on the back of the neck,  she knows there’s someone in the house, but if it’s friend or foe eludes her.

With her weapon fisted in one hand, Jill takes another quick look around, puts both arms on the sides of the square cut out in the floor and gingerly lowers herself down, trying not to put any weight down on her sprained ankle. She crouches on the floor now and listens, no sound still. Jill creeps to the back end of the hall and scans the two rooms, one appeared to have been a child’s rooms at one time. Princesses and pink adorn the room, the other room has posters of half-naked girls and 2 unmade beds, obviously male teenagers belonged here. Jill gets a twinge of sadness for the family that use to be, but sucks it up quick. It’s a new world, new rules, gotta look out for number one, only thing that matters now is you. Jill creeps along the hallway to the stairs, she sees that they lead down and to a living room and a front door. There’s a couple boards nailed over the door, and the front window has a china hutch pushed up against the window. Slowly creeping down the stairs, Jill can feel the tension in her building, furniture pushed around, more spattering of blood here and there. She goes around the corner into the living room and that turns into the kitchen can, she can see some cupboards open and empty. This place was definitely ransacked at some point, but yet it’s not that messy. She keeps walking, holding her weapon like a samurai sword, ready to strike whatever nemesis appears. Turning the corner to another room, a larger room, like a TV room. Jill looks to her left and sees a smaller shorter hallway the leads to a back door which has a 2x4 set across it, but not nailed. There are some brackets drilled in the wall that the board sits in. This only confirms her theory that someone must still be in here or died in here. She walks into the room, sees a huge big screen TV showing a movie, even with all that’s gone on Jill can still appreciate a fine piece of electronic. That’s when she notices the furniture, a lazy boy chair, a nice sized L shaped couch and a socked foot hanging over the arm of that couch. Cautiously she approaches, she keeps her distance and her body angled at such a way she can still lay a deadly blow if necessary. She crosses one leg over the other, trying not to stumble over her limp. She continues around and right away her eyes shoot to his face, she looks for the tell-tale signs of decay or death. Peaches and cream, that’s his complexion is, so young, an adolescent, maybe 16 or so, she pokes at his foot.

“I was wondering if you were alive or dead”. The boy said with his eyes still closed.

“How did you know I wasn’t one of them?” Jill questions

“You don’t smell all nasty like they do, in fact you smell kind a good, considering.” He grins at her.

“Well aren’t you just the Casanova. What the hell are you doing here?” Jill was looking around, taking it all in. “Are you alone? What’s your name, how old are you, have you been here long?” Jill starts firing off questions without even realizing it.

“Slow down please.” He sits up quick to put her at ease. “I’m sorry I was smart ass, I haven’t conversed in a while. My name is Jack”. He did a little bow while placing his hand on his chest. “And this is my house, or what’s left of it.” He says shyly indicating the other boarded up windows, and sparse furnishings.

“How long have you been here?” Jill asked.

“Since this whole thing started.” He said. There was a long pause. “See, my sister got bit at school and brought that fuck’n virus in here. Not her fault, she was just 8, but that’s how it started for me. Next morning she gets my mom and older brother. It was just dad and I.” Jack says looking at an old family photo hanging on the wall.

“We managed to kill them and get their bodies out of the house, and then as we started trying emergency numbers, that’s when we realized we were all screwed. Looking out the windows you could see nothing but chaos, people running, cars crashing, zombies eating,” Jill cringed internally at the word, she always did.

Jack went on, standing up, appearing to be slightly agitated.  “All the news stopped coming over the radio and on TV months ago, so dad decides he needs to figure out what’s up, so he hops into the family roadster, tells me to lock up and be a good boy and all that crap, then races off into the distance. That was 15 days ago.” Jack says. “The bastards dead and left me here to rot”. He said none too happy.  Jill can see the sadness in his eyes, hear the feeling of abandonment in his voice.

“Well I’m here.” Jill says hoping that it’s better than being alone.

“What the hell good are you? You’re hurt, how the hell you going to out run anything?” Jack says now on the verge of angry tears.

“Look, I know it’s been a while since I’ve been around living people, but I still have manners”. Jill tells him, “Can I get a bottle of water maybe and I’ll just be on my way.” Jack looks up at her like a sullen teen.

“Look kid, I’m tired, I’m hurt, and I’m hungry. You don’t have to tell me how hard you got it, look around, whose life is easy anymore?” Jill was getting irritated with the pity party and felt the increasing need to bolt.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” He held up his hand to stop her as she turned to go.

Sighing Jill said. “I would like to hope that if you wanted to kill me or something you would have done it already, but maybe we can help each other? I don’t know, I seriously just need a place to crash for a few hours and I can be out of your way here.” She waits for a sign of acknowledgement as she sits down on the couch next to him feeling a bit dizzy.

“Yeah I suppose. But you don’t have to go right away. I mean at least stay till your ankle is better. I have food.” Jake adds in hopes she’ll stay. Weirdly in the 6mins he’s known her he feels drawn to her. Like she’s important to him.

Jill suddenly sees what appear to be tiny lightening bugs flying around her peripheral vision.

“Jack I hate to bother you, but it’s been about two days since I’ve had a decent drink of water . . . . and all the adrenaline I used to climb down . . and sneak up on you  . . . .  has me all used up.” Jill now feeling nauseous, a surreal sensation passes through her, like her body is floating. “I . . .  I’ve got to  . .  lay down a minute.” Jill now groggy, with words slurring as she tries to lay back on the couch ready to black out.

“Wait don’t pass out yet!” Jack exclaims, quickly trying to keep Jill from tumbling face first in the marble coffee table in front of her, because that would be bad.