She could hear the two agents talking in the other room and snorted. They were talking about maybe going to Washington. Fools. There was nothing there except death. If Huntsville was any indication of what was going on, then the rest of the country was delving into bedlam and death. The more people the more zombies. She just hoped for her sake that she could become nose deaf, because zombies stunk like hell. She also hoped that she wouldn’t turn into a zombie werewolf, but that prospect didn’t bother her too much. Reaching for the soap, she lathered herself up and let her mind drift.
Ž
Bobby and Avery woke as the birds were making themselves known. He squinted out the window of his bedroom and noted the pale light filtering through the curtains. Avery had made a bed on the floor near the door. He’d been afraid to sleep in one of the other rooms. Bobby mumbled and shook his head. His body ached and he shifted toward the edge of the bed. Going to the prison had been a bust, it was filled with those zombie creatures and Avery had nearly shit himself. Bobby padded his way to the bathroom, a string of farts following him. He scratched at his rump. They’d hit the gun store and had been disappointed since it had been ransacked. He did manage to find an AR15 and several boxes of ammo for it. With his own gun, a Glock 42 and ammo, he thought it was a start. He turned his head when he heard the distant pops of gunfire. It was becoming commonplace now.
He and Avery would have to hit up more gun shops. They would also have to recruit a few more people since watching out for zombies was going to be a full-time job. He thought about Reggie and some of the guys from the Klavern. He was a little unsure about asking any of them. He needed followers. Many from the Klavern had their own ideas and he’d tried to call a few, but none had picked up. He wondered if they’d been turned into zombies? Whoever he picked, he’d be able to offer food and shelter. He just needed to find a good place to hole up.
“Shit,” he cursed softly as he looked outside the bathroom window. There were dozens of zombies wandering out in the yard and street. There were roughly half a million souls in Huntsville and that was half a million zombies or would be at some point. He didn’t have enough ammo and more than likely never would. He had to have a plan. He moved into the kitchen and looked out that window. More of the damned things were milling around. He’d give his left nut for a flame thrower. He watched as they bumped into each other and just teetered around the yard and sidewalk. It was as though they knew he was there and he wondered at it. Were these creatures able to think? Could they be reasoned with? All the movies he’d seen had said no.
Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a beer and opened it. He had a pounding headache and figured he’d help it go away. He thought about Redstone Arsenal Army Base but shook his head. They were more than likely locked down and he didn’t fancy getting his ass shot off. But maybe he could set up shop nearby. It would be nice to have the Army at his back. Maybe they’d swing by there and take a look-see. He scratched at his unshaven face and it made a rasping sound. He sipped his beer and watched several women zombies wander about and there were children as well. Made him glad he didn’t have rug-rats. He’d also swing by the dealership and pick up another Humvee for Avery and they’d begin picking up supplies once more. There was a lot to do and a lot to gather.
Ž
Reggie of the Redmond Klavern, No. 73, stepped out on his porch and surveyed the mess in his yard. He was alone, many of his KKK brethren lying dead on his lawn along with his family. He had gotten home several hours before only to find out that he was too late. Too late to save his family. When he’d gotten home finally, his wife and oldest, Hunter, were out in the yard. But they were no longer his wife and child, they were something else. Their blue eyes were black and their faces devoid of color. Their veins were nearly black, stark against the pale skin. Marney had ugly bite marks on her arms and cheek. He’d nearly fallen to his knees when his sweet Hunter had come around the back of the house, his arm missing. Raw and jagged flesh hanging off his shoulder.
Bite marks covered his legs and his face. One of his eyes were missing and Reggie had vomited. Marney had started coming for him, groaning and gnashing her teeth. Her hands were raised in curled threat. He had run back to his Jeep and retrieved his Beretta APX. His heart beat painfully in his chest when he shot his wife in her head and he watched her fall hard to the ground. He turned just as his ten-year-old got to him and he pushed the boy away from him. Hunter’s mouth was gaping and the child snarled. Reggie was weeping hard now and he knew he would have to shoot his baby. His legs were weak and he screamed his agony as he killed his child.
He fell to his knees and gathered in his dead child, clutching the bloody thing to his chest. Reggie couldn’t seem to stop screaming over and over as he rocked the child. Anguish,
