Waking Up Dead

knowing when she was beaten and wishing to hell that was not the case.

If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride…and all the zombies would disappear…

“If you’re not at that store in an hour, one hour, Tye,” she said. “I’ll find you and kill you myself.”

He nodded solemnly and straightened from his crouch. “I don’t doubt it. Now, come on. Let’s do this.”

And so they did.

Chapter Four

Luke watched from his hidden position as the pack of zombies he’d been following for the last fifteen fun- filled minutes stalked up the street. There were four in total, three males and a female. For once, thankfully, they were all dressed, though Luke could tell that it wouldn’t be long before they joined the naked throngs of the dead. Modern clothing simply wasn’t up to lasting two years and then some in the elements.

He took a step forward, the breeze—working in his direction he was glad to see—fluttering against his neck. A moment later and he halted. A second pack was joining the first, groaning and howling and looking pissed off. This one was slightly bigger, five members in all, and Luke sighed. Three were completely naked—it was not a pretty sight.

He edged along the wall, eyes narrowed as he tried to work out where they were heading. The street housed a number of businesses but also some apartments. Could someone be hiding out in one of those? Maybe even scavenging for supplies?

Luke had no idea. He didn’t have the zombies’ sense of smell.

Talking of which…the bastards must have picked something up. A scent? A noise? Whatever it was it was enough to make them run. They sped up the street, and even though it pained him, Luke couldn’t help but marvel at how fast they could move. Easily as fast as a living person. Though maybe not as fast as someone superfit, like a mechanic.

He almost grinned as he followed in their wake.

A few moments later the combined pack came to a halt, stopping directly in front of one of the stores. Luke frowned, slowed, and edged a little bit forward. Who the fuck would be hanging around in—he looked at the sign —Kelly’s Clothing Boutique? Groceries yeah, gas, hell yeah, but dresses and skirts? He shook his head in disbelief. Surely those items would be low on the list of any self-respecting survivor, and were in no way worth the risk they were so clearly taking.

A shiver ran down his spine as he watched the zombies pause just outside the store—no more than a few yards from Luke’s hidden position behind a stinking Dumpster—their breathing rapid and almost hoarse. He watched as one, he’d once been a man in life, snarled at a female next to him. Its face was screwed up in the horrible manner all their faces were. Almost animalistic, certainly predatory. The sight of it, and the sound of its death groan raised the hair on Luke’s arms and he gritted his teeth.

In the very early days, the news—what little there was of it—insisted the zombies had lost all mental abilities and were surviving only on instinct. Luke suspected the news stations had been full of shit. They ran in packs, they growled and snarled at one another, and lately the packs had taken to banding together to share food—something unheard of up till now. To Luke that kinda suggested some sort of evil mental process was going on. Like a clique of teenage girls.

The combined pack stepped forward now, their movements jittery, yet smooth. The dead did not move like the alive. Their limbs were more flexible, more fluid—though how that worked from a biological viewpoint Luke had no idea. In the end though, it didn’t really matter. It was all about the effect—not the cause. And the effect was this, them fanning out around the door into a loose arc, one of their standard hunting techniques. Luke shivered slightly at the glint he could see in their eyes. Clearly they were thinking food, could smell whoever, or whatever, was inside. Yeah, they had more than instinct going on. He was certain of it. Something ticked inside them, Luke just didn’t know what.

Another bunch of death groans rent the air, followed by the sound of glass breaking, and Luke knew he had to act immediately. If they actually got inside the store, the person in there would have no chance, and he’d still be alone, losing his only chance at a chess partner.

Taking a deep breath, he took two grenades from his pocket and crouched down. His ax—now strapped to his back—dug into his shoulder slightly, and Luke shifted before popping the pin from the first grenade and throwing it over the Dumpster. It landed right in the middle of the pack. They looked down at the noise, groaned, and made to disperse. But they were not quick enough. A severed arm, gushing with yellow pus landed right to the side of him and Luke grimaced. Another limb joined the arm, though it was hard to tell what type.

Luke waited a minute or so, popped the pin from the second grenade, and threw it into the melee. It took out a few more and a splash of blood hit the Dumpster. A good job he was hiding behind it or else he’d have been covered.

Ignoring the twitching limbs and pus—there was always pus—snaking its way toward him underneath the Dumpster, Luke pulled a Glock19 from each side of his waistband, positioned them at the ready, and edged out. Four zombies remained. He put a bullet in the first, dropping it in one. The second turned and bared its teeth. Luke promptly shot it and it fell on its buddy with a gurgle and a shudder.

Luke clenched his hands around his guns and eyed the final two creatures. One had been a woman in life. Her black hair reached almost to her waist, and her breasts were obvious beneath the dirty sweatshirt she wore. He could just make out the words “Sports Mom on Patrol” printed across it and he realized immediately who she was. Not surprising, he’d had to shoot more than one person he’d known in his former life. Still…a mixture of anger and regret slithered down his spine as he looked at her, holding her almond eyes for just a moment. Recognition did not flare in those eyes and he pushed the regret away. She isn’t Lily anymore, he told himself. She’s dead.

The other zombie was a fairly large man, but not muscled, more like fat—and this was clearly obvious due to the fact he was naked. Luke shot him first. He did not hit the ground. Shit.

The zombie eyed him in a way that Luke could only describe as calculating and Luke edged back slightly. How many bullets was this going to take? He fired another one. It hit Fatombie right in the stomach but it kept on coming…almost sauntering. Bastard.

Another shot, missing the head by a bare inch and almost hitting the dead Lily. She growled, turned, and strode into the now-open store, dismissing him without even so much as a no-thanks. Fuck. He hoped the person, whoever they were, could take her down. Though the female ones were worse than the men, so that might be an issue. They were often lighter and sprightlier. He’d once seen one jump from two stories and still get her man. Intestines and all.

“Come on then, you bastard,” Luke said. “Gimme your best.”

The zombie launched forward, groaning as he did so, but Luke held his ground, firing both guns, riddling it with bullets. With a mere inch between them, Luke leaning back to stay out of the way of its elongated fingers, a bullet found its mark and buried itself in Fatombie’s head. It hit the ground, and Luke let out the breath he’d been holding.

Thank fuck for that.

He paused for just a moment, taking in the scene around him, trying to get himself together. His palpitating heart combined with his lack of sleep was making him slightly light-headed, not a good combination. He took a deep breath and gave himself a mental shake, just as something that sounded like a roar reached him.

Luke swiveled round, and zeroed in on the wreck that was now Kelly’s Clothing. His first thought was oh shit, it really is a person. His second, slightly more depressing thought, was that the roar belonged to a man. His blonde fantasy dissolved, his head pounded, and he ran toward the store, intent on making the Lily zombie pay. Though in all fairness it was hardly her fault. I’ll be doing her a favor, he told himself. She wouldn’t have wanted to live like this.

That was Luke’s intention at least. Only he didn’t expect to be confronted with another pack, plus Lily, eyes glinting, mouths open, emitting a series of horrific death groans.

His last thought was, fuck, where’s the whiskey when you need it?