Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary (15 page)

“Enough,”
said Lois. She grabbed Lizzy’s arm and pulled her back. “It’s dead.”

“Very
dead,” added Mary, softly.

Michael,
Julie, and Simon were in a huddle, holding one another and crying, standing
beside Juliette’s tiny body.

“Jacob,”
said Briana, “she’s going to rise soon.”

Julie
heard the words and rounded on her angrily. “My baby is not going to be one of them!”

For a
moment it appeared she would strike Briana – I’d wager heavily that Briana
could trounce the older woman – but Simon held her back. She began to fight and
struggle with him, refusing to calm down. Then Juliette’s eyes opened. I was
reaching for my gun when Lizzy stepped up, still holding the rock. It only took
a single blow.

“Juliette!”
wailed Julie.

“Lizzy,”
began Cherie, accusingly.

“It had
to be done,” I said quickly, interrupting the lot. “It might have been handled
better, but it had to be done. Cherie, Lois, keep a look out. Everyone stay
away from the water.”

I
scooped up Juliette’s body and carried her away from the parked cars. Finding
an indentation in the ground – at this point Julie was completely inconsolable
and pretty much clueless as to what was happening around her – I began to pile
stones on and around the corpse. I had no shovel to bury the girl, but I wasn’t
about to leave her lying there, in the open, where everyone could see the body.
A cairn would have to do. Lizzy joined in, as did Briana. It didn’t take long.

At that
point the sun was beginning to set.

“Should
I cook something?” asked Briana, breaking an extended silence.

“I can’t
eat,” said Lizzy, with a shake of her head. “Not tonight.”

It was
an incredibly distasteful moment. I don’t like thinking about it, even months
later. And what was up with a single bite being so deadly? Did the zombies
target spots with major arteries? I know that’s stupid. They go for the
nearest, most convenient piece of flesh they can find. Not that it would have
mattered if Juliette had been bitten anywhere else. A bite is a death sentence.
Better she bleed out fast than suffer the infection for several days before
dying in agony.

“If
anyone’s hungry they can have whatever in their car. We’ll be sleeping in them
here at the park.”

“I don’t
know if we should stay,” said Simon. His arms were around his sobbing wife. He
looked little better himself, but he seemed to be holding it together. At least
he didn’t comment on my burying his daughter without consulting him. Thinking
about it, that could have been a major mistake on my part.

“Too
late in the day to find a better spot, and you can’t go far on that spare. It’s
going to blow on you, sooner or later. Sooner, I think. We stay here tonight.”

Briana
and I did have something to eat after it got dark and everyone was ensconced in
their various vehicles with the doors locked and triple checked. The crackers
and
Vienna
sausages weren’t very appetizing, but
they’d keep the pangs away till breakfast. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day
and almost certainly exceedingly depressing.

*
* *

The next
morning Cherie returned Lizzy’s pistol. She had insisted on taking it in case
the stout woman became infected and started acting irrationally, though with
the three day time frame between infection and death, we weren’t worried about
her turning into a zombie during the night. Originally, Cherie had tried to
keep Lizzy out of the car altogether, but there was nowhere else for her to
sleep. After this had been pointed out, repeatedly, Cherie relented but did
insist that Lizzy strip and leave the blood stained clothing elsewhere. I
loaned her a T-shirt and some shorts which barely fit. It was the best we could
manage.

The
zombie blood splattering her skin apparently had no ill effect. Lizzy showed
none of the symptoms the infected demonstrated, and it appeared she was safe.
Everyone was keeping an eye on her to be certain, which did nothing to lessen
her innate combativeness, but the reasons were more than valid. After a few
hours of on and off griping, Lizzy accepted the situation and tried to make the
best of it.

“I am
not going to turn into one of them.”

“We
know,” replied Mary, “but you’re still sneaky and need to be watched.” She
tried to sound something other than completely downtrodden but failed, badly.

Lois put
an arm around Lizzy, and the two began to whisper. From her car, Julie stared
hatefully at all of us. Michael was inside with her, and she was not allowing
him out except to relieve himself. I understood the desire to keep him safe,
really did, but keeping the boy locked up was not going to work, nor was it
sustainable behavior, not to mention emotionally healthy for either.

“We are
going to have to find better vehicles,” I announced, “like we talked about.
We’re doing that today, first thing.”

“And
more of them,” added Cherie. “It’s too cramped.”

“That’s
for fucking sure,” agreed Lizzy.

The two
were not getting along. Their personalities were very, very different.
Separating them, and keeping things that way, would be necessary if we were to
continue functioning as a group.

“I
figure me and Briana can take the Jeep. You two can go in the Toyota. We’ll
find something and drive it back here. Lois and Mary will stay with the
Bransons.”

“Think
it’s safe?” asked Lizzy.

I handed
Lois my .45 automatic. “Know how to use this?”

She
nodded.

“Show
me.”

It
wasn’t that I distrusted her so much as I wanted to be certain there’d be no
mistakes. Within a minute I was satisfied.

“If lots
of them show up, climb a tree. I don’t think they’ll be able to follow. They
have the strength but not a whole lot in the way of agility. We’ll be back,
hopefully in a few hours, before nightfall no matter what.”

I then
went to tell Simon what we were doing. I barely got the words out before Julie
informed me, clearly and with no uncertainty, that I and I alone was
responsible for poor Juliette’s death. That hurt, a lot, but I kept my face as
blank as possible. Her reasoning was simple. They came with me after I convinced
them it was the best course of action. They got the flat because they followed
me over a bad road. They entered the park because I led them there. Juliette
went in the water because I said it was safe to play. She was bitten because I
was talking to them instead of watching out for her and Michael. Her
determination of my guilt was going to have many consequences later. I should
have done or said something. Instead, I just walked away.

Quite
glad at that point that she was staying behind, and that I’d given Lois the
gun, I left the state park and began scouring the checkerboard of nearby
agricultural roads looking for anything useful.

*
* *

We
returned around three o’clock with two new trucks. First, we had Cherie’s new
Ford F-150. It was a few years old and had a good forty thousand miles on the
odometer, but it seemed to run perfectly. Additionally, there was plenty of
room inside the cab for Cherie to sprawl at night. She was quick to point this
fact out and to mention how two could easily lie side by side while looking at
me. Briana was more than pissed.

The
pickup also had one of those metal box things mounted in the bed against the
cab. The keys were found in the glove box, and after tossing some random tools
that were not needed, along with the other crap we found inside, it provided a
good sized trunk where Cherie could store her personal belongings. The cab
didn’t have a back seat, so that worked out well.

We
decided to use the bed to hold spare tires, for the time being at least. We
found an SUV of the same make and model the Bransons were driving and took all
four wheels off it. We snagged some Jeep tires that were almost identical to
mine as well and did the same for the pickup and for Lizzy’s new ride. The slew
of wheels filled the bed completely. It was overkill, and we all knew it.
Still, until we needed the space for something else, there was no reason not to
take them.

Lizzy
now drove a Jeep Grand Cherokee, which, while nice, is still only a wannabe
Wrangler. It did provide more than enough room to hold their stuff, of which
there was next to none. Mary, sitting in the back seat, would likely have the
best of it, being able to lie down and comfortably relax.

We’d
also searched a few cars, or rather the luggage contained within. It seemed sordid,
going through others’ personal belongings in that fashion, but Lizzy and her
crew needed clothing and basic day to day items. We managed to find some
toothbrushes in the original packaging – I have no idea why someone had packed
seven in what was otherwise an overnight bag – along with toothpaste and soap.
Lizzy came across a wide variety of clothes that appeared to be clean, but she
washed them using water from the lake just to be certain. Lois and her sister
received several changes that fit, but Lizzy unfortunately had to make due with
a single pair of jogging pants and some extra large T-shirts. I promised we
would raid the first department store we came across. I didn’t think that was
actually going to happen anytime soon, but we’d try to find something.

After
returning, we changed the tire on Simon’s SUV. The new one fit perfectly, and
we put the spare back in its slot. We then tossed the rim I had insisted they
drag along. Mary rolled it into the lake, much to Michael’s delight. His mother
had him by the arm and kept him well away from the water. He still said he
hoped it landed on a zombie’s head and squished it. Good lad.

Since it
was dinner time when we finally got things sorted out, I ruled we would stay
there for the night. Julie was not pleased. She wanted away from the memories
of the spot, although she did take the opportunity to pray by Juliette’s grave.
The meal was communal with everyone sharing. It was somber, and there was
little talking.

I took
back my .45 before turning in. That left Lizzy’s gun in their car, Simon’s gun
in his, and Cherie with my .38. I really hated loaning out weapons, at least
when I didn’t have a huge surplus of them, but each vehicle had to have one, in
all honesty several. Hopefully, we would find some soon so everyone could be
more appropriately equipped. Until then I was determined to make sure the Jeep
Briana and I shared was the most heavily armed, as it should be.

Interlude – Lizzy’s Story

Of all
the people I’d met up to that point, Lizzy was by far the most open and ready
to talk about her life, her views, her experiences, and her generally negative
attitude toward life. In fact, Lizzy had no problem at all complaining about
most everything and letting others know exactly what she thought of them. She did
not get along with Cherie, and she openly hated Julie. However, she had no
issues with Briana or myself. Since I am the bright center of the universe,
that works for me.

Lizzy
was a long time resident of
Garden City
. Many of the people there knew her personally
or by reputation, and she was not at all popular. Part of this was directly
related to her personality and tendency to say whatever was on her mind,
consequences be damned. Contributing were her outspoken viewpoints, with
political correctness high on Lizzy’s list of forms of darkness and evil which
must be destroyed at all costs. She despised a good many people, and she wanted
to be able to insult them freely without having to use wishy washy,
manufactured language.

Lois was
the polar opposite. When she moved to the town with her family a year earlier
no one knew or guessed her sexual orientation, excluding the observant Mary who
figured it out long before. Lizzy, who was a few years older, had met her at
the library where Lois was doing volunteer work. She’d never even suspected
what Lois was. Lois knew about Lizzy of course – her co-workers readily shared
the available gossip and stories – but it wasn’t until they’d become close
friends that she risked confiding in the other woman.

Hiding
anything about herself was counter to Lizzy’s entire belief system, but she
made an exception in Lois’s case and indulged her extreme caution. The nature
of their relationship was kept carefully hidden. Lizzy even went so far as to make
comments on how Lois needed a boyfriend, not that there were any decent men in
the town – Lizzy couldn’t resist including editorials of that sort – to ensure
people thought Lois was just like them. But once the zombie apocalypse began,
Lizzy said that was over. No more hiding what they were, assuming they lived
long enough for it to matter.

On that
first morning Lizzy was alone in her apartment, woken by the ringing phone. She
thought to ignore it, seeing how it wasn’t even light out yet, but the caller
ID showed it was Lois. If nothing else, she was mildly curious as to why her
girlfriend was awake at such an ungodly hour.

“Lizzy!”

“What is
it?” she asked, yawning.

“You
have to help us! They’re trying to get in!”

“Lois,”
called Mary. She could be heard crying in the background. “The door…”

Lizzy
sat up in bed, alarmed at the panic in their voices. Then there was a rush of
activity, banging and cries to push or hold it. Lizzy screamed for Lois to pick
the phone up, to tell her what was happening.

“Lizzy!”
said Lois, when she finally did grab the receiver again.

“What’s
going on?” The stout woman was now on her feet, pacing back and forth.

“Our
parents are trying to kill us!”

Lizzy
paused. That made absolutely no sense whatsoever. “Say again.”

“There’s
something wrong with them. They’re sick!” Lois was having trouble getting the
words out. “We’re in Mary’s room. We just knocked the bookcase over in front of
the door. I don’t think it’ll hold long. You have to come and help us!” She was
desperate and terrified, and Lizzy did not miss this.

“I’m
coming. Wait. Did you call the police?” She didn’t have the highest opinion of
the local authorities, due to the many unjustified speeding tickets and other
hassles they’d given her over the years, but calling them seemed like the right
thing to do. “What did they say?”

“We
couldn’t get through,” explained Lois, now sobbing in tune with Mary. “911 is
down. Nothing.”

What was
going on? That never happened. “Okay. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few
minutes.”

Like far
too many in the world, Lois and Mary’s parents had perished in the initial die
off only to reanimate and promptly attack their own families, but, as with
Briana, the sisters hadn’t been caught completely unawares and managed to lock
themselves in a bedroom.

Lizzy
quickly dressed and grabbed her .45 automatic from the nightstand, along with
the shotgun she kept in the closet. Then she reconsidered and left it lying on
the bed. There was no way she could conceal the weapon, and walking down the
street carrying it would only get her stopped, questioned, and possibly
arrested. Lizzy did not check the news or make any other phone calls. If she’d
had an inkling of what was happening, the shotgun would have never been left
behind.

Stepping
outside, just as the sun was beginning to crest over the horizon, she wondered
what could possibly be happening at Lois’s house. Hopefully it was some weird
misunderstanding or food poisoning or something. There was no way her parents
would actually hurt their daughters. They were among the few decent people in
the area, definitely some of the sanest. Lizzy didn’t doubt the veracity of
Lois’s claims, but there had to be an underlying reason for their actions.

Then she
saw her first zombie, a neighbor clad in faded boxer shorts. It grabbed another
man who’d just come out his own door to retrieve the newspaper. He was caught
unawares, and the zombie sank its teeth into the man’s face, ripping off a
large piece of his cheek and sending blood spraying through the parking lot. He
managed to break free and run back inside his apartment, slamming the door shut
behind him. It happened so fast, and was so shocking, that Lizzy never had a
chance to intervene. Maybe Lois and Mary really were in danger, real danger.

Hurrying
down the street on foot – her car was still in the impound yard after she’d
been caught driving with a revoked license – Lizzy headed straight for Lois’s
house. Another zombie shambled out of a doorway in front of her. She promptly
shot it in the head, the hollow point bullets in her pistol blowing out the
back of its skull. Normally, Lizzy wasn’t violent, physically at least, but
this man was covered in blood, had creepy, fucked up eyes, and was acting just
like the first one she’d seen as he tried to grab hold of her. There was
something seriously wrong with him, and she chose not to be a victim.

The
sound of the gunshot caught the attention of others who turned in her
direction. Not fully realizing how slow and awkward the zombies were, Lizzy
sprinted around a corner to escape and promptly had to stop, gasping. She was
short and boxy, though by no means flabby. There was a lot of muscle on her,
but the excess weight and lack of regular exercise, something Lizzy hated with
a passion, was showing. In this she is quite similar to Laura, the primary
character in one of my earlier interludes.

She
zeroed in on a convenience store a block away, trying to ignore the cramp
developing in her side. No one was around, and she slipped inside, closing the
door behind her. The deadbolt was key only, so Lizzy couldn’t lock it, but she
did take the time to push a small ice cream cooler in front of the door. It
wasn’t the best barricade, but it might hold, for a minute or two. Ducking down
behind the counter, out of sight of the windows, she pulled the cell phone from
her pocket.

“Lizzy!”
said Lois, the moment she answered. “Where are you?”

“I’m
still a few blocks away, hiding in Granson’s shitty little store. I just shot a
man.”

“You…
You what!”

“He was
fucked up in the head Lois,” she explained, hoping that was the case and she
wasn’t going to end up in jail for murder. “He came right at me. I saw another
just like him rip apart a guy’s face, with his teeth.” She emphasized the
words. “There are even more on the streets. I, ah, your parents might be like
them, some kind of sickness. Do not let them near you.”

“What is
it?” asked Mary. She was standing close enough that Lizzy could hear her
clearly.

“Tell
your sister to stay in the room. Keep her safe Lois. I’m coming. I am. Gotta go
now.” Lizzy hung up. Then she had a flash of insight and switched the ringer to
vibrate. She didn’t want it going off if she was trying to hide or be quiet.

Standing
up, she took one look at the zombies outside and swallowed hard. They had
followed her to the store and several were banging on the glass. Another was
trying to pull the door open. Fortunately, it swung inward instead, but it
wouldn’t take long for the thing to figure that out. Worse, the man was more
than big enough to push the ice cream cooler out of the way. Lizzy ran to the
back and out the emergency fire door into the alley. This actually served as a
short cut, and Lizzy exited into a neighboring street where she had to fling
herself to the curb to avoid being run down by a speeding car.

“Monsters!”

Lizzy
pulled herself to her feet and turned to see a man she vaguely recognized,
though she couldn’t recall his name. He pointed a pistol and fired. The bullet
only grazed her shoulder, but it was enough to spin her to the side. She lifted
her own weapon, but he ran off.

“God
damn it!” she snarled, annoyed, frustrated, more than a little scared, and all
around furious. Hopefully his balls would be chewed off, slowly, by whatever
these screwed up people were, or some dogs in the alternative.

After
that, things grew slightly calmer. Moving to the smaller, more isolated
residential streets, the number of zombies decreased significantly, and Lizzy
was able to reach Lois’s house without further difficulty. She had a key,
something her girlfriend’s parents did not know about, and used it to let
herself in. The banging, and Mary’s on and off screaming, were clearly audible.
Rushing up the steps, Lizzy found their parents slamming clenched fists against
the thirteen year old’s bedroom door. It only took a single good look to
confirm they were wrong, and the mother was promptly felled with a head shot.
Lois’s father turned, and Lizzy struck him in the chest. That only served to
knock him back a step, and she hurriedly fired a third time taking him in the
face.

“Lois! Mary!
I’m here. You can come out.”

“Lizzy?”

“Yes,
it’s me.”

There
was a lot of rumbling and crashing as they moved the bookcase and other
furniture they’d pressed against the door to the side. Then it creaked open the
tiniest bit. Once Lois saw Lizzy, she pulled it open all the way and screamed.

Her
girlfriend thought it was the sight of their dead parents, a reasonable
assumption, and began to think how best to explain her actions, while praying
she had done the right thing. She liked these people. They’d been nice to her,
always. She was just beginning to get sick to her stomach, realizing what she
might have done, when a zombie grabbed her from behind. It had come through the
open front door.

Surprised,
Lizzy reacted by slamming her head back, catching the thing in the chin. It
didn’t let go, but it staggered back. Losing her own balance, Lizzy was
likewise dragged in that direction, and both the woman and the zombie tumbled
down the stairs. It lost its grip during the fall and broke a leg, shards of bone
jutting through its skin. Unable to stand, the zombie nevertheless used its
arms to pull itself along the carpet to where Lizzy was lying, dazed.

“Lizzy!”
screamed Lois.

The
woman looked up at her.

“There!”
pointed Mary. She tried to go down the steps to help, but Lois grabbed her
collar, jerking her back roughly.

Lizzy
spotted the zombie, almost on her, and kicked it in the face. The nose
shattered, but this did nothing to slow the thing’s advance. Picking up her gun
– it had fallen next to her – she pulled the trigger. A heartbeat later the
pistol slipped from her fingers as both hands instinctively rose to grasp her
forehead. The woman had fired left-handed, something she’d never attempted
before, and the powerful kick had pushed the barrel up, right into Lizzy’s
forehead. She was seeing stars.

Mary
broke free of her sister and ran downstairs, hopped over Lizzy, and slammed the
front door shut, bolting it.

“Check
the other ones too,” suggested Lizzy, only half understanding her own words.

The
teenager did as she was told. Noting there were more of the things in the
street, she also pulled the blinds so they wouldn’t see them.

“Are you
okay?” asked Lois, kneeling beside her.

“No, I’m
not okay. I am very fucking not okay. An asshole shot at me, after I was almost
run over. These things keep attacking me. My head hurts. Fucking… Is it
bleeding?”

Lois ran
a finger gently over her skin. “No, but it’s turning purple.”

“God...
Can’t believe this shit. Help me up.”

Lizzy
was wobbly, and her hip ached from the fall, but nothing seemed to be broken or
sprained.

“Get me
to your room, please. I need to lie down a minute.”

Both
sisters had to assist Lizzy up the stairs. She was having difficulty walking,
and the pain was really starting to set in. They managed though.