Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary (9 page)

“It’s
home.”

“You can
always leave home and go somewhere else. Briana and I did. My great
grandparents, all eight of them, left home to move to the United States way
back when. People do it all the time. But, since you’re going to stay, let me
wish you the best of luck.”

He
sighed. “Thanks, and I do mean that. So, when you leaving us?”

“Tomorrow
morning. We decided last night. We hung around a bit to help out and… Well, who
knows when we’ll next get the chance to talk to someone, particularly somebody
decent.”

“We
certainly appreciate the assistance, and the company. I’ll have a little
present for you before you turn in tonight, in case I don’t see you in the
morning when you leave.”

“Another
pie would be nice,” I suggested, hopefully.

“Those
are few and far between.” He grinned broadly. “Don’t worry, we’ll set you up. I
do want you to tell others you meet where we are. Being off the main roads, we
haven’t seen too many folk, but I would like to get more here if possible. Who
knows, maybe you’ll find other, larger groups out there. If they know about us,
we might get a network set up.”

“That’s
good,” I replied, “provided they’re like you all. Having a group of escaped
cons, for instance, know about this town wouldn’t be so beneficial.”

He grew
a tad graver. “I worry about that sort of thing too, but the more hands we
have, the more guns, the better our chances are of keeping the zombies away, of
keeping anything bad away.”

*
* *

“So,”
asked Briana, “what’s in the box?”

“Curious?”

“Of
course.”

We were
sitting in the living room of the house we’d been using, hot and sticky as
usual, with only a small electric lantern to see by.

“Well,
are you going to open it or not? I want to know what Edwin gave us.”

“Why
don’t you do it Briana.”

She
giggled merrily and pulled out her pocket knife so she could cut the string
holding it closed.

“And we
have…” She withdrew the first item. “…a dress. What do you think?”

She
stood up and held the summer dress to her chest. It was red with large white
polka dots.

“Not at
all appropriate for our trip, but quite lovely. Hopefully you’ll get some use
out of it later.”

“I fully
intend to,” replied Briana, playful determination in her voice.

We’d
managed to get her more properly equipped in the clothing and women’s personal
stuff department after arriving in town. With so many dead, there was no
shortage of these items, and she quickly discarded pretty much everything of
mine she had appropriated in favor of replacements. Personally, I didn’t think
then, nor do I think now, that she needs to be carting around quite so much in
the way of apparel, but on this matter, and with so many others, my opinion is
completely disregarded.

Most of
what she took was durable and practical, jeans and heavy long sleeve shirts,
along with a better fitting denim jacket for when we’re near zombies and have
to worry about being bitten, and some casual stuff for times when we were in a
place of relative safety. Briana also has several bathing suits. Not sure when
she’ll make use of those, but they take up no real space. And yes, I really
would like to see her in one.

“A gun,”
she continued. “I’ll take that too.”

“Let me
see.”

She
handed it over, and I gave it a quick examination. Edwin, or one of his people,
had likely overheard some of our conversations regarding weapons. It was a 9mm
with two clips, each holding sixteen rounds.

“Is
there any ammunition?”

“Six...
Seven boxes, fifty in each.”

“It’s
yours Briana. You can stick the .38 under the passenger seat in the Jeep or in
the door slot like I keep my extra.”

That
solved the lingering gun issue. I carried my .40 caliber. Briana carried the
9mm. I had my .45 as a spare. She had the .38 revolver. We were good on
pistols. There was also my old double barrel shotgun, which was ideal for
hunting birds or small game, and the .22 rifle with scope, also well suited for
shooting little things. I had plenty of ammo for each, with several thousand
rounds for the .22.

“There’s
some bullets for you too. That .40 caliber you like so much.”

I took
the boxes. It more than made up for what I had used in that initial fight when
the kids were stuck atop the UPS truck. Edwin had been generous. He was,
without a doubt, a good man.

“And,”
continued Briana, “we have a flashlight, still in the original packaging, along
with a whole bunch of batteries for it. Those are always useful. Some canned
goods, beans, beans, beans, more beans.”

“Lots of
protein in beans,” I pointed out, “very nutritious and practical.”

She
snorted. “Another can of beans, string beans this time. Ah! Some packets of
Jell-O. Might be good when it gets cold enough to make without a fridge. A five
pound bag of whole wheat spaghetti and another of brown rice.”

“Good
staples again.”

“No
spaghetti sauce, but they did give us some packets of seeds including
tomatoes.”

I
laughed. “We can make our own next year, if we get to plant those somewhere.
Don’t worry, the spaghetti won’t go bad in the meantime.”

“Maybe
we can just find some canned sauce somewhere on the way. Thread and needles.
Might be useful. A… Oh. My. God.”

I leaned
forward. “What is it?”

“Edwin
has a very dirty mind.”

“Edwin?
Really? What did he put in there?”

Briana
held up a book and then tossed it over to me. With my excellent reflexes, I
almost managed to get my hands on it before it struck me in the chest. I did
succeed in getting a grip before it hit the floor.

“
The
Deviant’s Kama Sutra
.” I had not expected this.

“I think
Edwin has the wrong idea about us,” said Briana.

I opened
the book and flipped through it, lots of pictures and illustrations. I’d never
read the original
Kama Sutra
, but I don’t think it was quite as graphic
as this version.

“Think
you could do this?” I held it up for her to see.

“I don’t
think anyone can do that. In fact, I’m thinking that picture was computer
generated.”

“Well,”
I admitted, “she does seem to be twisted about in a way the body isn’t supposed
to bend. Could be worse.”

“And
how’s that?”

“Edwin
could have given us
Porn of the Dead
.”

“
Porn
of the
… What?”

You had
to love the expression on her face. Priceless.

“Came
out a few years ago,” I explained. “Made the news for being so disgusting. It’s
an adult movie cashing in on the zombie craze. People and zombies.”

“That’s
just icky.”

I closed
the book and set it down on the table. “Yeah, pretty much anything zombie
related is bad, now that we know they’re real.”

“No,
Jacob,” she reiterated, “that’s disgusting regardless. You don’t have a copy,
do you?”

“Can’t
help you there Briana, but if I come across one, I’ll be sure to grab it.”

The
flashlight came flying at me, and again my sharp reflexes almost had me out of
the way before I was pegged in the forehead. I really need to work on my
hand-eye coordination.

“Anything
else in the box?” I asked, a little annoyed at her violent, though playful
response.

She
smirked and resumed pulling things out. “Some packets of seasoning and
sardines. Yuck.”

“I like
those.”

Briana
shoved the tins in my direction. “Don’t eat them before bed. I don’t want to be
smelling fish all night.”

“I’ll
just stick them in the Jeep with our other supplies.”

We had a
good stock of food, enough for a few months if we were very careful. In addition
to what we’d taken from my pantry, we had also been given rations over the past
few days, most of which we just stored. Edwin’s folks were eating far more than
was warranted. He should be stricter, at least in regards to the canned goods
that would otherwise last a few years.

“I’m
going to miss the people here,” said Briana.

“Some of
them are quite nice.”

“Lots of
young guys as well. There are two who just came in.”

I
frowned. “Edwin told me there were three of them. Something happen?”

“No, the
tall one’s gay, so he doesn’t count.”

“And he
told you this?”

She
pulled off her jeans and slid on the shorts she liked to sleep in.

“Not
turning away? Shame on you Jacob.”

“There’s
a table in the way. I can’t see anything from my position, and I’m too tired to
lean to the side no matter how good your legs look.”

“Well,
maybe later I’ll just change in front of you so you don’t have to expend any
energy peeping at me.”

“Teasing
again.”

“That’s
because I know you won’t try to do anything bad.” She grew more somber. “The
college guys said they’d seen some things around the time they were running
from the city.”

“I heard
some of that from Edwin. He mentioned gangs. Didn’t sound good.”

“They
told me about one of their neighbors who was grabbed by two men and pulled into
a car. It drove off before they could do anything, supposedly.”

“That’ll
be happening a lot.” I had a low opinion of rapists and favored a policy of
punishment that involved days with sharp knives and eventual crucifixion, maybe
utilizing fire or perhaps some insects, the sort with stingers.

“I was
worried about you doing something at first,” admitted Briana. “Not by force,”
she added a second later. “You never tried to touch me when we were lying in
bed at your house.”

“More
along the put out or get out variety,” I offered.

“Yeah,
more like that.”

“I’m
sure that’s every bit as common, if not more so. We’ll run into it eventually
Briana, and being a hotty…” She smiled at that. “…you need to keep your gun
handy. Someone threatens you, shoot him. Remember, stomach shots can cause a
very slow, painful death. I won’t hold it against you either.”

“This is
getting depressing, and after I got so excited at receiving a new dress and
pornography.”

“Sorry
about that. We should turn in anyway. You can stay up and read through the book
if you want. Might help with any stress.”

“Actually,
know what would help with that?”

“What?”

“A
backrub.”

“Am I
going to get one in return?” I was every bit as sore as Briana, probably more
so given the physical labor I’d been doing and my age.

“Maybe.”

I shook
my head. “Not good enough. I want a guarantee, an iron clad promise.”

“Okay,
you have it, but I get mine first.”

Of
course, Briana fell asleep in less than ten minutes – so much for my turn – but
that was okay. I stayed up only little while longer myself, thinking about the
wisdom of leaving Edwin’s band. I was correct in my assessment of the
situation. Briana agreed with me. We were doing the right thing, or so I hoped.

Interlude – Laura’s Story

This
tale belongs to Laura, a resident of
Anadarko, Oklahoma
, who shared the following with Briana
and myself during our short stay there. She had begun the zombie apocalypse in
the typical manner, namely she woke that morning with absolutely no clue as to
what was happening. Climbing out of bed, Laura took a shower, got dressed, and
made herself breakfast. She never turned on the television or radio, nor did
she check her voicemail or email. The woman simply got ready and went to work,
the same as always.

Humming
to herself, and paying no attention to her surroundings, Laura made it four,
possibly even five steps beyond her front door before she was assaulted.

“What!”
Laura’s mind frantically tried to make sense of what was happening as clammy
hands wrapped themselves awkwardly about her torso. “Off of me!”

She
attempted to pull free but only managed to twist to the side. Still, it was
enough to get a good look at her attacker. The man was large, eight inches
taller than she and powerfully built. He was also naked. Disturbing as that
was, it was his mouth that was the focus of her attention. Opening and closing
rapidly, the teeth slamming together, it swung toward her face. Somehow, Laura
managed to get her hands up in time, grasping him by the throat, trying to keep
him back.

“Help
me!” she shrieked. There was no response. “Please, someone help!” This couldn’t
be happening, not in broad daylight.

Laura
continued to struggle, striving to keep those jaws away, but he was much
stronger. Then her desperate squirming placed her into a position where she
could press a small foot against his belly. With a grunt, Laura pushed, and her
attacker lost his grip and tumbled back, falling against the asphalt. He rose
with no apparent ill effects, but Laura was faster. She lurched to her feet and
darted off.

Her
first thought was to get inside, but the man was between her and the apartment
building. Then a woman staggered into view. She was clad in a worn nightshirt,
and her throat had been ripped open. Blood was still dripping from the wound. As
with the man, her eyes were glazed over, and, exactly like him, she shambled
straight toward Laura. Not yet understanding what was happening, Laura decided
it was best to run, and she did so, hurrying past her parked car – she had lost
her keys in the melee – and across the street.

Almost
immediately, she felt a stabbing pain in her side and had to slow her pace.
Laura was short, very overweight, and had a tendency to avoid exercise with an
almost religious fervor. Now she found herself gasping, forced to pause and put
both hands on her knees.

“Down!”

Laura
instinctively obeyed the command and ducked. A loud blast sounded, and the
woman trailing her tumbled to the ground, her chest torn apart. Dreadful as the
injury was, it did nothing to stop her. The thing got up once more, portions of
its insides leaking out, and continued moving forward.

“Woman!
Get over here!”

Laura
whipped her head about and hurried over to the man, panting heavily. He pulled
her behind him and fired a second shot, again catching the zombie in the torso.
The damage was greater, and Laura saw the spinal column shatter. The monster
fell, and its legs stopped moving. Again, this did nothing to eliminate the
determination to reach Laura. Long arms pulled at the pavement, dragging the body
forward.

“What
does it take?” He slid the action, ejecting the spent shell. The third shot was
to the head. There was no further movement. “About damn time.”

“Behind
you!” screamed Laura.

The
stranger spun and fired a round into the face of Laura’s initial attacker at
near point blank range. The naked body, all but decapitated, crumpled to the
ground.

“Bizarre.”
He began to reload his weapon, taking shells from his pocket. “What’s your
name?”

“What?”

“Your
name?”

“Oh,
it’s Laura Johnson.”

“Nice to
meet you.” He extended an arm. “I’m Justin.”

Laura
shook his hand, more out of habit than any sense of politeness. “What’s
happening? What was wrong with them?”

“No
idea. I heard some screams and came outside and saw some of them rip a little
kid apart.” His craggy face held a grim look. “I tried to get there but was too
late. They tore the girl’s arm loose, right from the body, and started taking
bites out of her.”

“That’s
enough.” She held a hand up, bile rising within her stomach. “I don’t want to
hear.”

“Well, darlin,”
began Justin, as he gently tapped her shoulder and guided her to the side, “you
are going to be hearing and seeing a whole lot more since they’re coming for
us. Slow. Can barely even walk straight.”

“Are you
going to shoot them? Now, please.” Laura paused, unable to believe she just
asked someone to commit murder.

“Hang on
there darlin. They’re still far off, and I want to take a good look first.”

“Stop
calling me darlin! My name is Laura.”

“All
right Laura.” Justin was oozing rustic charm, and it didn’t seem he was aware
of it. “I don’t think these people are right.”

“They
attacked me. You said they killed a little girl. They get shot and don’t die,
and you say they aren’t right! What’s wrong with you!” Her face turned red.

“Calm
down darlin and try to breathe. Now, I just don’t want to be shooting folk
willy nilly. If they get up close I’ll protect us. Don’t worry about that.”

“I
don’t… There!”

A door
opened, and one of her neighbors shambled out into the early morning sunshine.
There was blood on his face. A moment later, his wife followed. There were
scratches across her cheek and a pair of large bite marks on her throat.

“Oh,
God.”

“Darlin,
I’m hoping very much that the fellow up above has nothing to do with this.” Justin
lifted his shotgun and stepped forward. In short order he put the couple down.
They were clearly the same as the others he’d killed.

“No
challenge at all. They come right to the gun.”

“You
weren’t grabbed from behind, were you?”

He shook
his head. “Nope, can’t say that happened to me. Came close, until you warned me
of the naked fellow. We’ll have to keep an eye out and pay attention.”

“Do you
have lots of bullets?” she asked. More and more of the things were appearing,
with many heading straight for them.

“Not
bullets darlin.”

“I said
to call me Laura.”

Justin
bowed his head, just a tad. “My apologies. It’s difficult, you see, not calling
a pretty little thing like you darlin.”

She
didn’t know what to say, at first. “Wait, are you trying to be nice because
you’re out of bullets and we’re about to die?”

He
laughed. “I’m just being me, and I have no bullets, which is just as well since
this shotgun doesn’t fire them. Now, as to shells, I have quite a few, several
hundred in my truck over there.”

There
were screams, and both swiveled toward the sound.

“They
are not getting another kid,” snarled Justin, his voice going hard. He strode
forward to intercept the zombies that were pursuing the teenager. “Over here
boy.”

The
youth darted for him, and as soon as he was past, Justin began to drop the dead
around them.

“We,”
gasped the boy, breathing as hard as Laura had been, “need to get inside.
They’re everywhere.”

“More
likely to see an angel in a strip club than get me to head indoors right now.”

“What?”
Laura couldn’t believe this.

“Come
now darlin, you really want to be cornered by those things. Better to stay out
here where you can see them coming and deal with them easy enough, but I think
we should relocate to my truck. It’s in the intersection, and we’ll have more
choices.”

That
made sense, in a terrifying, barely understandable manner, and Laura wasn’t
about to leave this very capable man. He might be annoying, but he was also in
far better control of his emotions than she. So, she allowed him to lead her
and the kid, Tommy, back to his pickup where the two of them climbed into the
bed so they’d be out of the way.

*
* *

It
didn’t take long for more survivors to gather about them, and by nine o’clock
they had a half dozen in or around the pickup. The key addition was Roger.
Justin apparently knew him since he greeted the man by name. Roger lacked
Justin’s charming personality however. He just nodded once and drew a pistol
from a worn leather holster and waited. Apparently feeling secure, Justin set
his shotgun down on the hood of his truck and rubbed his shoulder.

“Justin,”
began Laura, “what are you doing?”

“Nothing
darlin, nothing at all.”

“Shouldn’t
you be holding your gun or something?” The panic was again rising within her,
and Laura vaguely recognized how close she was to losing all semblance of
self-control.

“Because
darlin, Roger is here. You wouldn’t know it, seeing how he drove up in a Volvo,
but he’s one of the best marksmen I ever met. We’ve rattled off thousands and
thousands of rounds at the range together, and
Roger’s
won more than one competition, several
dozen at last count.”

Almost
as if he wanted to prove the statement, Roger opened fire, one handed, at a
distance of nearly fifty yards. He killed all the zombies that approached. None
took more than a single shot.

“Shit,” said
Tommy, softly and to himself.

“Watch
your language kid,” snapped Laura.

“But I…”

“Quiet.”
She turned her attention back to Justin. “You sure he’s okay without you
helping?”

“Roger,
you need any help?”

The man
shook his head.

“All’s
good darlin.”

“My
name… Oh, never you mind.” She looked over at the newcomer. “Roger, are you
sure?”

He did
not respond, but he did wave for some people to head toward them.

“Roger
can’t talk,” explained Justin. “Born that way. Good guy, though a bit
reserved.” He looked over at his friend. “Let me know when shooting your
neighbors starts getting to you, and I’ll take over.”

“How can
you act like this?” sobbed a woman. Laura didn’t know her.

“I’ve
decided that these aren’t people anymore. Demons have gotten into them. At
least, I sure hope that’s the case. Don’t much like the alternative.”

*
* *

They
spent the first night in Roger’s house – he lived in the neighborhood that
would later become the center of the survivors’ world – with Roger and Justin
taking turns sitting up on the roof, so they could keep an eye out. For her
part, Laura spent much of her time comforting others. She wasn’t a caregiver by
trade or personality, but it seemed to calm her own nerves. They had no idea
how many others were alive in the town – hundreds were dead; no doubt about
that – or how many zombies were still around. Remaining emotionally grounded
was essential.

And they
now knew the infected were indeed zombies. While Justin and Roger created the
safe haven in the intersection, others had caught the news and heard enough to
get a rough idea of what was happening. One of these was Edwin who had gathered
a second group of survivors and herded them into the town hall, which was
easily secured. A third bunch had been found that afternoon hiding in a drug
store.

All
three bands quickly united under Edwin’s leadership. He was known and well
liked by nearly everyone, and no one had complained to his taking charge.
Justin outright said he preferred acting to thinking and planning, and a whole
lot of planning was going to be necessary in the days to come.

*
* *

“Justin,”
asked Edwin, “can you and Laura check out the supermarket? Make sure it’s clear
and that all the doors are locked. It has a generator backup system, so the
food will keep for a while, but turn off all the lights to save on that. We’ll
be needing those supplies, and I’d like to keep as much of it fresh as we can.”

“Sure
thing,” replied Justin amiably.

Laura
nodded. She didn’t like leaving the relative safety of the group, but Justin
had proven himself more than capable the day before.

“Roger,”
continued the town’s former mayor – the current mayor did not survive the
change – “take a few others and keep on getting rid of the zombies. We’ll use
the dump truck and load the bodies into that. We can bury them a few miles out
later.”

The mute
nodded his assent and hurried off.

“Come
along darlin.” Justin plopped his cowboy hat atop Laura’s head. “Keep the sun
out of your pretty eyes.”