Don't Dare Call Them Zombies : Books 1-4 (19 page)

After scooping small portions of scrambled eggs, grits, and a couple pieces of toast on my plate, I sat back down. As I slowly picked at my food, I listened to Roy and Kay talk about the man who had been murdered. Benjamin Witherington was a friend of theirs and a long time church member. He’d given guitar lessons to Roy a few years back, and was considered to be very musically gifted. I heard Roy say something that sparked my curiosity. He wondered if finding the teenagers in that particular room was what infuriated Reverend McMann and not so much what he caught them doing.

“What's so special about that room?” I asked them.

“No one knows, but Reverend Sikes has been seen coming and going from it a lot,” Roy said.

“He spends a good bit of time there, at least when he isn’t in his office,” Kay added.

“Well, just last night Reverend McMann took me in there,” I said. “Reverend Sikes wanted to speak with me.”

Their eyes widened as I told them about my encounter. I omitted some of the details about what Reverend Sikes had told me about the Holy Ghost, but I mentioned the noise I had heard coming, I thought, from beneath the floorboards. Roy and Kay looked at me with intense curiosity as I explained how creepy the room had seemed. Looking beside me, I actually saw the Bible he’d given me in our bag of stuff. I lifted it up and showed it to them.

“That is his wife's Bible,” Kay stated. “She taught the young married couples Sunday School class for several months last year. I'm sure that is hers.”

Opening the cover of the Bible I saw a hand written note on a dedication page.

This Bible, a copy of the divinely inspired, Holy word of God, is dedicated to Mrs. Martha Sikes by her loving husband. May it comfort you in hard times and bring you hope in times of doubt. In Christ’s love, Rev. Sikes.”

When I showed them the Bible, Kay and a few others church members who had been listening seemed perplexed.

“I'm surprised he’d give that to anyone,” said Kay.

“Why?” I asked.

“Other than his sister Ms. Teresa, his family is dead.”

Before I could ask her to clarify her last comment, I heard a single gunshot.

A few moments later there was another.

Chapter Five

The two gunshots were enough to silence the chatter that filled the social hall. It sounded to me like the noise could have come from inside, but some people rushed to the window to see if there were any freak attacks going on outside. A couple of men stood up and exited the social hall and headed down the hallway that led to the sanctuary.

I had been sickened by what I had just seen, and I had no desire to get involved any more in this community. I just wanted to get on the road again with Jennifer. Maybe I was being selfish, but there was an apocalypse going on and at some point I felt I just had to take care of my own needs.

 “I want to get out of this place,” I said to Roy. “A group of us were going to make a run to Robert's shop to get a tire for my van. Want to come along?”

“No,” his wife said quickly.

I then looked at Roy directly and asked him the same question.

“Do you want to come with us?” I asked.

He looked at his wife, looked back at me, and declined the invitation.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “But I've got my family here to protect.”

 “It's alright. I understand your situation,” I answered.

“Let’s go Jennifer,” I said. “Let’s get the group together.”

 Looking around I saw Sam at one table, and Robert Gardner standing near the outside door.

They were still willing to go with me to help me with my tire, so we all left the church together.

 Thankfully, the rain had become little more than a drizzle by the time we exited the gate of the fenced off perimeter. Oscar's empty golf cart was parked only several feet from the gate and Meredith was standing next to it; she continued her patrol duties despite her scratched arm and didn’t seem to have any obvious signs of infection as we passed her.

Sunlight was starting to break through the cloudy sky as we walked towards the van. Despite the sudden, unexpected attack the night before, I felt fairly safe in the church yard. In every direction I looked, patrols were walking across the soggy grass surrounding the church.

I was the first of our group to reach the van. I unlocked the side door and climbed inside to get the items we needed. The ammo for my revolver was easy to find; the box of cartridges for the .357 magnum were exactly where I had left them. A moment later I came across the set of large butcher knives I had acquired from the meat manager's secret stash.

“Would anyone like one of these?” I asked as I turned around and displayed one of the fourteen inch long blades.

“Sure, I'll take one,” said Robert.

“Be carefully with it,” I warned as I passed him the knife. “It’s razor sharp.”

I handed another knife to Jennifer.

Although the knife I had used in our escape from Sandy Hills was beside the driver’s seat, I wanted a brand new one. Cutting through bone can dull a knife fast, and I wanted a blade that would be as effective as possible if we had an encounter. In the corner of the van, under a shopping basket of medical supplies, I saw a large, sheathed butcher knife. I quickly attached the beige, leather sheath to my belt. Taking a second look at the sheath hanging from my waist, I noticed it also held a smaller fillet knife. It might come in useful.

Before locking up the van, I grabbed a ball cap and put it on. In red letters it read, “Grocery World Meats: Dinner's Calling.”

After I got out of the van I saw Robert kneeling and taking a look at the flat tire.

“Yep, that tire is gone. Look here – you’ve got three nails in it. I doubt I could even plug it up right. You just need a new tire and a good spare.”

“Let’s go,” Sam urged. “We need to get this done and over with – c’mon, this way.”

He directed us to a large white truck with an extended cab.

“Now, since we’re going in my truck we’re going to do this my way,” he said. “Rob's place is just down the road. Before anyone gets out we’re going to circle all the way around his property. This truck is a four wheel drive; I doubt we will get bogged down. If the coast is clear we’re going to stop, get out, get the tire, and head back to the church.”

“Okay, sounds good to me,” I said.

The four of us climbed into his truck which smelled of cigarette smoke. I took the shotgun position while Jennifer and Robert sat in the back. Sam started up his truck, and we traveled down the long driveway of the church. I took a moment to load up my revolver as we turned onto the main road.

“My place is a little over a mile to the right,” Robert stated. “I’ll need to unlock my garage so I can look for the tire.”

Hanging above me on the cab ceiling was a very high tech looking hunting bow and a quiver of arrows.

“Are you a hunter, Sam?” I asked.

“Almost everyone does some hunting in these parts. But for the most part I like to target shoot,” he explained. “And I'm a very good shot.”

I believed him.

As we continued down the road we saw something in the ditch by the side of the road. Sam slowed down, and as we got close we could see that it was a freak crawling slowly along the ground. One of its legs looked broken. It was headed, very slowly, towards the church. We passed by it without stopping, and continued to Robert's place.

“We can dispatch that one on our way back,” Sam said.

Only moments passed and we were at the entrance to Robert's driveway. His house was positioned a long distance from the road, in a similar manner to the church. We drove down the driveway until we got to his front yard. It looked clear of freaks from the front of the house, and we proceeded to circle around his property – just like Sam had planned.

“Keep your eyes open,” I told everyone. “Let me know if you see anything at all suspicious.”

As we drove slowly around the property surrounding his small brick home I saw a number of junk cars parked in various places. He also had what looked like the frame of a motorcycle on his front porch.

“I can see you do some work on cars,” I said, half joking.

“Yep, I sure do,” Robert responded.

As we pulled around to the rear of his house, to my dismay we saw three freaks in his back yard walking towards the sound of our truck.

“Ok. We have work to do. Look around! Do any of you see any more of them?” Sam asked.

I scanned the surroundings and only saw those three.

“There are only those three, I'm pretty sure,” I responded.

Without a moment's hesitation, he took the bow and quiver of arrows from their mount on the ceiling of the truck and hopped out the vehicle. In what seemed like one quick motion, he took an arrow, put it in place, pulled back the string, and fired at the closest freak hitting the snarling, hissing woman square in the forehead. She’d barely hit the ground by the time another arrow had been launched. This second arrow pierced the eye socket of a tall, skinny freak.

“Hank, look! There’s another one,” Jennifer called out, pointing into the distance beyond the house. Two more freaks were walking towards the house from the field behind it.

“Where did they come from?” Robert asked.

“It doesn't matter. I have to take them out. Stay here,” I said.

I jumped out of the truck and walked towards the two flimsy looking corpses approaching. Their receding skin showed their facial musculature; one was male, the other female. Flies circled and as they grew closer I could tell why; even for decaying corpses, they smelled putrid.

I unsheathed my butcher knife and grasped it firmly. As the male freak approached I took a quick step to the side and plowed my knife into its face. I simultaneously extracted my blade from his head with a jerk the now truly dead corpse collapsed.

Although it was not difficult to kill such a slow moving and clumsy freak, I wanted to be careful not to get cut in the process. I was unsure if a scratch could transmit the infection or not, but I didn’t want to be a guinea pig like poor Meredith.

Having dealt with the male freak, I now turned toward the female who was coming at me with flailing arms. I tried to keep a good distance until I could be sure of clean strike. She had long nails that made her hands look like claws. This was especially true due to the fact the skin on her fingers had peeled away. As soon I saw a clear opening I swung at her neck. The blade sliced through her neck and her head fell to the ground.

Even with her head detached from her body, her eyes and mouth were still moving. Feeling a sense of pity for the poor woman, I took my blade and stabbed it into her temple in order to destroy her brain, and she finally stopped moving.

I raced back towards the truck and found that Jennifer and Robert had left the vehicle. Jennifer was keeping watch as Robert fumbled with his keys to open the garage door. On the other side of the truck, I saw Sam walking back towards us. A number of freaks were lying on the ground behind him, all with arrows in their heads.

I reached the door of the garage at the same time Sam did.

“Hurry and unlock the door,” I urged Robert whose hands were trembling as he tried to get the key into a padlock on the garage door. I was sure hadn’t expected to have to deal with so many freaks on such a short trip.

Finally, he unlocked the door and switched on the interior light of the garage. Against a far wall of the extensive garage were at least a hundred tires piled up in stacks. I could also see lathes, drill presses, saws, a large air compressor, and a number of other pieces of equipment. It was as if he had his own personal, well equipped machine shop.