Dying Days 3 (4 page)

Chapter Four

He could feel the power returning to his body, slowly but surely. All the movement from destroying zombies was having a positive effect on his limbs, and he could even feel blood beginning to flow again.

It wouldn't be long before he was back to his normal self. Whatever that really meant. The hunger was still there but he was learning to control it, keep it in check, and not dwell on it.

When the two living people came into the Java Joint, he made a quick exit down the back stairs and hid in the vacant lot. There was no use showing his self before he was strong enough. He had all the time in the world and, besides, they had carried a shotgun.

Frank didn't get weak or hungry for actual food or water. Frank didn't seem to need sleep, and he wasn't getting tired. He didn't know if he really needed blood to survive. But he yearned for it. He wanted to consume it, drench himself with it, and he wanted to violate the living. Male or female, it didn't matter.

He knew they'd seen the bodies on the beach and would go for reinforcements, if there were any. Frank smiled. He could gauge their strength and numbers. Until then, he would keep searching each house from A1A to the Intracoastal, looking for survivors or zombies. Either way, they would all be destroyed.

Frank was careful not to disturb too many places and made any path he took look like another mindless zombie was on the move. He decided to go back to the bridge and see if more were streaming across it. They were getting few and far between, and he needed to figure out how to attract more before another began to think and tried to usurp his budding kingdom.

His legs were tight but the muscles were beginning to move on command, and he could jog short distances before they stiffened again. He walked down A1A, until he reached Moody Avenue and what would turn into Route 100 West, and over the bridge into Palm Coast. Right now, it was barren of movement. Frank began the trek to the bridge, looking both ways and listening with his healed ears for any sounds.

As he got to the corner of North Flagler Avenue and Moody Avenue, he stopped. There was a sound to his right. A Dollar General discount store had been gutted, and only the sign still remained. The buildings to either side of it were charred rubble, but on the very corner stood a small building Frank initially took for a bank or small restaurant.

J and J Fitness. There was weather-damaged gym equipment piled near the front doors, sun-burnt gymnastic mats and broken furniture. As Frank moved closer, he saw refuse on the side of the building: empty food containers, egg shells, garbage bags overflowing, and vermin feasting. Some of the debris looked fairly new, as well.

Something loud crashed inside the building, followed by a male voice cursing.

Frank smiled through cracked lips.

Chapter Five

Darlene was still sobbing as the enclave gathered at Murph's stilt house. There were eighteen people piled into the living room, with Murph in his customary spot, in his chair. He was staring at the ceiling as news about Griff and the absence of zombies in Flagler Beach was tossed around.

John came over and put a comforting hand around her waist and squeezed Darlene close. "Are you going to be alright? You can go home, you know."

"I don't want to be alone. So much death around us. Will this ever end?" She didn't want to cry but buried her face against his chest and began. John pulled her close and steered her into his room and away from the gathered.

Darlene pushed him away and wiped her eyes. "Get back out there, before your father or one of the idiots makes some stupid decision. They need your wisdom."

"I don't want to leave you alone."

Darlene smiled. "I'm not. You're in the next room, if I need you. I think I'm going to collapse in your bed and take a nap. I need some thinking time. You can handle them without me. Go."

John kissed her on the forehead. "Stay out of my underwear drawer."

"I can't promise you."

"It's only fair, I keep going in yours."

"I was wondering where all my good thongs went."

John smiled. "No idea. But stay out of the top two drawers. Maybe three."

He left and closed the door behind him. Darlene fell into his bed, after pulling her shoes off. She needed a shower and a change of clothes, but right now she only wanted to sleep and dream.

Most of her dreams were about the world before the zombies. Rarely did they enter her thoughts at night. Some days she wanted to sleep and live in a world where she still had to go to her menial job or deal with bad customers. She remembered a dream from the other night where she was stuck in traffic in Boston, driving her dad's car, while he slept next to her. There were people everywhere, walking and driving and being loud. Darlene missed it. She missed groups of people just having fun or worrying about their job or where to go on their lunch break or what bar to go to that night, and who would be there.

Darlene didn't dwell on dating and her social life before. It was work and then home to cook for her father and then an early bedtime. She had friends, but none of them were ever close to her. Partying was never her priority. She barely dated, always feeling plain and a bit overweight. Very conscious of her body.
Now look at me
, she thought.
I'm wearing a size I wore in high school. I have muscles and no more love handles.

She unbuttoned her jeans and slipped under the covers. She could smell John Murphy on the pillow and in the sheets, and smiled. She took in his scent.

She'd found a great guy, but, of course, there had to be issues. Big issues. He was married, she reminded herself, although the chance his wife was still alive was so damn small. As much as she knew she was a bitch for thinking it, she knew it was a fact. She didn't want to get involved with him, but she couldn't help it. Darlene thought she was one good drunken night away from tearing off his clothes and straddling him.

She slipped her hand into her pants. She was wet just thinking about him.

*   *   *   *   *

John Murphy closed his eyes and shook his head. The room was getting louder and louder as more and more opinions were tossed around.

"I think we all need to calm down in my house," Murph said. "Before I toss you all out. We've had more than enough tragedy as of late. I think arguing over a course of action isn't going to help us one bit."

John opened his eyes and stared around the room at the few survivors they had left. Since the St. Augustine attack, their numbers had dwindled. Four more people had suddenly left in the middle of the night and taken some of the group supplies with them.

"I don't think these group meetings are helping," Chris Gray offered.

Eric looked pissed off. "Why would you say something like that? We need to stay focused on the task at hand."

"What task?" someone called out.

"Surviving," Murph said. He walked to the center of his living room and looked at the less than two dozen people there. "When we got here and set up, we had five times as many in number, remember? Now, we're down to nothing. What happens if the group responsible for Flagler Beach heads north? Can we defend against them?"

"We don't even know how many there are," Chris Gray said. "We didn't actually see anyone. Well, maybe one."

"Whether we saw someone or not, there's obviously a group of them. I doubt one or two people could kill that many zombies and pile them in rows in the last few weeks, unless they worked nonstop."

"Maybe it's the military? Or some form of government? Shouldn't the zombies be rotting away by now? Don't they starve if they don't eat or something?" Bri Charland asked. She had just turned fifteen (as far as anyone knew. They'd celebrated her birthday a few weeks ago, even though no one had kept an accurate calendar of time) and was growing into a pretty young woman.

John smiled at her. "Good questions. I know I hope it is someone positive, trying to clean the area. For what purpose?"

"Do we make contact? Send a couple of us with a white flag and assess their strength and who they are?" Eric asked.

People started talking at once. Murph once again threatened to clear the room and everyone went quiet.

Murph grinned. "Why do we have to do anything just now? I say we set up a recon team to watch them. If we see anyone, we report back without making contact. Wouldn't that make sense? Sending anyone into Flagler Beach with a white flag shows them we are here. If there are a hundred renegades on motorcycles with crazy punk haircuts and bad teeth, I don't want them knowing our position just yet." Murph looked at Bri and winked.

Eric pointed at John. "If we set up two-man teams to monitor the situation, we might be able to keep relative track during the day. We can set up in one of the beach houses just north of Si Como No Inn."

"How long do we need to do this? We're already stretched thin," Chris Gray said.

"Until we find out something." John sat down on the couch. "At first light, tomorrow, I'll go with Eric and we'll spend the day watching. We'll need the best binoculars we have available. We'll be back before dark and report. Sound like a plan?"

Eric nodded. "I think, with any luck, we'll see who is out there and their numbers. If it is a large group, they can't hide for long. And they would move during the day so they don't get ambushed by zombies."

Murph sat back down in his chair, his right knee popping. "I agree. We'll get a list together, each day, for two people to get out there and do some recon. Nothing fancy, and no one engaging this potential enemy. Anyone have anything else?"

"We're getting really low on food. Has St. Augustine rebuilt yet?" Abby Millar asked. She was in her mid-twenties and one of the newest survivors to the fold, having come from St. Augustine.

John shrugged. "We're so thin right now. I don't know if we can afford to lose two people a day to Flagler Beach and then another two or three sent north right now. I think everyone needs to pull their weight this week and help out the cause, though. Are there any spots we haven't picked clean yet?"

No one said anything.

John Murphy knew, for miles around them, they'd been in and out of every store and every house there was. Nothing was left to uncover. Supplies were dwindling and food was scarce. Soon enough they would run out.

His bedroom door opened and Darlene stepped back out, a smile on her face. "There's still the gas station and the house, you know. I really want to get in there once and for all. I'll head there tomorrow."

"Too risky. Wait and I'll go with you," John said.

"We need food now." Darlene looked around. "Who's with me in the morning?"

John noticed Chris Gray looking away. Chicken-shit. Abby Millar stepped forward. "We chicks can kick some zombie ass."

Darlene laughed. "Sounds good."

Murph put his feet on his coffee table. "Anything else? No? Good. Meeting over. Everyone get out of my house so I can take a damn nap."

Chapter Six

Jason Beams closed his eyes and sat back down on the floor of J and J Fitness before he knocked anything else over.

"What are you doing?" his sister, Ashley, hissed. "Can you make any more noise?"

"I can try," he said sarcastically. He didn't mean to fall back into the pile of weights against the far corner, but he was trying to balance on the balance beam running between the mats on the cement floor. He was bored and he missed his skateboard.