Mechanical Failure, Chap. 7a (zombie apocalypse novel in progress)

~continued~

I rang the doorbell, and I could tell at once that there was activity inside. It looked like I was going to have to deal with a zombie or two, but I had to be sure. The last thing I wanted to do was barge into the home of an armed survivor who didn’t want company. I stepped back far enough to make sure I was visible from the upstairs windows. My knife was out of sight, so anybody looking outside would just see a small blonde woman with a fireplace poker.

Nobody came outside or peeked through any of the windows, so the occupants were probably of the undead persuasion. I could hear one of them pounding on the other side of the door, and he didn’t seem too happy. For a moment I considered moving on, but I wanted a zombie-free neighborhood so he had to go. The door was unlocked, and I pulled it open and stepped back like I always did. It was like a floodgate had opened. Seven of them poured out in rapid succession with one crawler following behind; a whole undead family. Making a quick retreat, I managed to trip over the edging along the flowerbed and landed on my back. I rolled instinctively, and it was a good thing because one of my new neighbors tackled the spot where I had just been. I got him in the eye with my knife before scrambling to my feet. I’m still not quite sure how it happened, but two of the smaller kids got behind me, and I was surrounded. The little boy lunged at me and bit my leg hard. I finished him off with the knife, wincing at the pain and praying that his teeth hadn’t made it through my jeans. I dropped him to the ground and went for the other fast one, holding the little dead girl at arm’s length as I ended her life as a zombie. By then, one of the others had reached me and grabbed the back of my coat. I swore, wishing I’d had something better than the bulky jacket I was wearing. I twisted and stabbed at her hand, realizing it was the mother. She paid no attention to my knife but tried to pull me closer, mouth opening wide. By now, the largest teen was on my right, and he grabbed for me as well. I was not going to be able to take out all five of the remaining family members with my knife. I stuck it back in my pocket and drew the gun, which I hadn’t planned to use. Covering my face with my hood to keep any infectious goop away, I shot the mother in the head. She fell, but others were there to take her place. I turned and ran, pulling away from the teen who still had a grip on my coat. Once I was far enough to feel safe, I took careful aim and put them down, one by one, saving the crawler for last. I was shaking by the time it was all over. I also realized I’d gained some attention since there were now a few zombies trying to crawl over the car I’d used as a gate.

~to be continued~

Mechanical Failure, Chap. 6c (zombie apocalypse novel in progress)

~continued~

I woke with the dawn and my eyes went to the door. I was glad to see that the dresser was still right where I’d put it. Once I moved it aside, I listened at the door for several minutes. If the noise I’d made moving furniture hadn’t drawn anything upstairs, I was probably safe. I still opened the door with a weapon ready, just in case. This time it was my knife since I wasn’t sure I had room to swing the fireplace poker. The hallway was clear, as was the rest of the house. I climbed the stairs again so I could look out a window that had a view of my temporary gate. There was nothing on the other side of the car, but I couldn’t see over the RV well enough to say if it was clear. I watched for almost ten minutes before I saw movement. So they were still out there, waiting. That was fine. I had food and shelter, and I wasn’t bothered by the prospect of being trapped inside the neighborhood for a while. If I had to leave, I could always climb over a wall.

I started going through the other houses that day, taking both the knife and the poker with me. The hardest part was moving around the neighborhood without being seen. I didn’t want the dead on the other side of the car gate to have reason to hang around, and I hoped they’d eventually forget I was there if they couldn’t see me.

There were two zombies in the first house. One was a crawler, and I was able to take it out with a single blow to the head. I winced at the sight of the brain matter and wondered if I would ever get used to the violence and gore that was part of my world now. It had been months since I’d killed my first zombie, and it still wasn’t easy. I walked through the house as quietly as possible, but the second zombie was doing the same thing. Usually they made some noise, but this one didn’t. I turned a corner and there he was, grabbing for me with a loud moan. I was too close to use the poker, so I dropped it and pulled the knife as I backed away. He was tall, and I was going to have a hard time jamming my knife into his head without some serious risk. As I took another step back, I came very close to tripping over the crawler, who was probably the tall guy’s wife. Hit with sudden inspiration, I stepped over the body and kept moving back, leading the big guy forward. He never looked down, of course. They never do. They just keep coming, focusing on the meal in front of them. As I had hoped, he tripped over his dead wife and went sprawling, giving me the opportunity to shove my knife into the base of his skull.

Once I was sure they were both truly dead, I searched the rest of the house and collected everything worth taking. The supplies would have to be transported once I figured out where I’d make my home for the rest of the winter. All of the houses in the neighborhood were nice, custom homes, but I wouldn’t pick one that had been a home to zombies for several months. The smell always seemed to linger long after the zombies were removed, and I also had no idea if I had to worry about contamination. I decided not to risk it.

I had better luck on the second and third houses. Apparently the people who had lived there had either gone to the shelters or had left town, but the houses were empty. I repeated my earlier steps and ended up with a large pile of goods near the front doors of both houses. It was the fourth house where I really ran into trouble.

The family in the fourth house was still home, though they were no longer living. I could see them through a large picture window where they were clawing at the glass, and I counted six kids ranging from maybe six to nineteen. That’s just a guess, but I know the older two boys were big. Another thing about child zombies is that they tend to be faster than adult zombies. I learned that lesson the hard way.

~*~

 ~to be continued~