Dying To Live & Fighting To Live-Book One and Book Two (Zombie Overload Series) (14 page)

"We lived in
Florida. Our Dad was a huge football fan who molded us into football
players before we could even walk. He was never accepted on a team
when he was a kid, so he was determined to see his sons on the field,
but not just that, we had to be the best. We were never allowed to do
anything else. No other sports, no other high school activities,
hell," he gives a short laugh, "he even had to approve our
girlfriends. Football cheerleaders only. If we did anything he didn't
approve of, even talking to a "regular" girl about an
assignment for class, it would earn us a beating. Dad was a big
muscular man and, at our age, we didn't stand a chance of taking him
on. We'd heard he was a mean son-of-a-bitch in school. Bullying
everyone unfortunate enough to get in his way. Well, aging didn't
change that. He beat our mom and she allowed it. Allowed him to beat
us, sometimes severely, even when we were just
little
kids.

Jake pauses,
obviously at a part of his story that is hard for him to tell, "When
Greg had to quit the team and was in bed most of the time, growing
weaker and sicker, Dad would come home from work everyday, climb the
stairs to Greg's room, and while his own son lay helpless in his bed,
he would beat him, yell at him, blame him for getting cancer, like it
was his own fault. I was away overseas in the war and had no idea any
of this was going on. Greg was the only one who ever kept in touch
with me, except for the few times Mom had written, passing on the
message that Dad needed money transferred to his account immediately
so he could attend a pro-football game. I always sent it because I
knew Greg would be punished if I didn't. Greg stopped writing me and
I never knew why. I didn't know about the cancer."

Jake stops and looks
at Greg, who shrugs at Jake, making it obvious it's an old argument.

Jake continues,
"After a few months of not hearing from him, I sent a letter to
a friend of mine back home, who told me about Greg. I went home on
leave, and walked in on our dad, "Jake pauses again, trying to
keep the emotions back, "I walked in on him beating on my little
brother, who was already much thinner, too weak to lift a hand to try
and fend off the blows.
I
beat
him
almost to the point
of death, and probably would have, if our mom hadn't walked in and
threatened to call the police on me. The threat of being thrown in
jail didn't bother me. The disgust for that woman did, plus, if I
went to jail, I wouldn't be able to protect my brother and he would
definitely pay for what
I
did. So, I left my dad lying on the
floor, unconscious, bruised, and bleeding, picked Greg up and we left
that house for the last time. I took him straight to the hospital,
where they documented the proof of the beatings, and called the cops
themselves. Instead of me, my dad spent a short time in jail. Before
long, he was out, free to harass us wherever we went, demanding
money, showing up at the hospital whenever I took Greg for
treatments, calling at all hours to scream and threaten us. The
police couldn't, or wouldn't, do much. So one night, I packed up and
moved Greg and I to Springfield, where I had been transferred to
after explaining to my superiors what was going on. He hadn't found
us, or at least, we hadn't heard anything from him
or
our
mother, and then this zombie shit happened."

Will and I sit,
speechless. We have never heard more than a few sentences at a time
from Jake and this speech was horrifying. I look away, trying to get
the rage that I'm unable to release on the two people who deserve it,
under control. I look at Will, who's wearing the same expression of
barely controlled anger as I am. How the hell could those two
monsters do that to their own kids? And then to continue when one of
them has cancer and is dying?

I stare down at my
lap and breathe in and out a few times. Feeling a little more stable,
I turn my head back to Jake and he's already staring at me. His eyes
lock on mine and we freeze that way for a few moments. Finally, he
blinks.

He turns his head to
the windshield, lets out a big sigh, then turns back to us, saying,
"We better go." He starts his engine and I turn my
attention outside the vehicle and suck in a sharp breath. The undead
have surrounded us and are closing in. Will starts our Hummer, and I
push the button to raise the window. Jake cuts a path through them
and we follow Jake to the interstate. I call my mom and find out
that, for now, they are parked on the side of the interstate a few
miles outside Springfield, but if they have to move, she'll call me.
I hear relief in her voice that we are all safe and, in the
background, I can hear the boys asking if it was me and if we are ok.
She turns on speakerphone, and I talk to my boys. We call out I love
you's and hang up.

I relax in my seat
and and think about all we had done today. I'm exhausted. Finally
giving in, I lay down on the bench seat and put my head on Will's
leg. Pulling my legs up to try to get warm was the last thing I
remember.

I wake to Will
lightly rubbing his hand over my hair and calling my name. I struggle
to open my eyes and finally get one eye half open. The passenger door
flies open behind me and two boys climb on top of me, hugging Will
and I both. After the second elbow to the stomach, I tell them to let
me up. We listen to the boys explain their adventure to get here.
They ask about our own and we give them the shortened version,
leaving out some key details. Mom and Dad come over as we are all
getting out. They hug us both.

Jake walks over
smiling. I notice Greg is sitting in their vehicle looking exhausted
but happy to be with his brother. I ask Jake how Greg's doing and he
tells me he just gave him his meds but he seems to be ok, other than
tired. As Jake, Will and my parents talk about where we are going, I
wander off to the side of the road. Looking around and listening, I
decide it's clear and head down the slight ditch to the rows of small
trees and bushes. Yep. Gotta pee. I find a good spot that is
surrounded by pretty thick bushes.

As any woman can
tell you, crouching down to pee sucks in every way. What woman hasn’t
thought of snakes biting them on the ass, or some kind of poisonous
plant, or, HORROR! falling over into the wet mess on the ground? It's
happened. Sure, usually it's a woman that's had just a bit too much
to drink but, still. And then the fear of pissing all over your
pants, shorts, underwear (or panties if you're wearing the sexy ones)
AND THEN, the dilemma of wiping. So, do you use a leaf, but again,
there's the poisonous issue. Or maybe wiggle and jiggle dry? Because
just trying to air dry is impossible. Since I forgot to grab a roll
of the damn toilet paper, I have to choose between the wiggle/jiggle
method or a leaf. One other problem with having to pee crouching, you
can't see what's coming for you over the barrier of greenery. That
really, really sucks.

Should I have gotten
Will or my mom to keep a look-out for me? Yep. This is one of those
parts in the movies where you get so pissed off at how stupid one of
the actors are for doing this very thing. You yelled at the screen,
calling them every name in the book, as if they can hear you. I did,
too. Call me all those names now, cause I screwed up.

Crouching down and
finally finishing, doing the wiggle and just starting the jiggle, I
hear a moan from the bushes closest to the field, not the road. I
forget about the jiggle and yank my pants up, not bothering to zip or
snap them. I grab my gun from the ground where I had placed it and
take a few steps back. I can see movement between the dense leaves
and branches of the bushes. Too dense to actually see details, just
movement. But the moans and shuffles are unmistakable.

I keep my eyes on
the bushes in front of me and move back through the bushes behind me
as quietly as I can. This is all while going uphill and holding my
pants up with one hand, so I'm doing my best not to fall on my ass.
I'm high enough now that I can see the top of the moaner's head. And
then, what I see next
does
make me fall on my ass. There are
zombies as far as my eyes can see across the field. On the other side
of that field, just a few miles behind, is Springfield. The first
layer has just made it to the bushes, joining the lone one I had
heard. It's not going to take them long to get through.

I fumble to get up,
turn and, holding my pants up, run up the ditch to the others. I
frantically search for my boys and can't find them. I grab Will and
with the fear making me gasp and hard to understand, I try to ask
where the boys are. I try to tell them we have to go. All I could do
in the end was point toward the field.

Will grabs me and
shoves me in the Hummer and tells me the boys are fine and are asleep
in the back. I look back to make sure and am relieved that they are
indeed asleep and safe. I watch Mom and Dad run and get into their
vehicles. Jake's already at his truck, settling Greg in the backseat
so he could rest, when he hears the shouts from the others. I watch
him look up and, seeing the mass of zombies coming our way, hurries
to cover Greg with another blanket, and jumps in the driver's seat.

But we are still too
slow.

The first of the
zombies break through the bushes and are headed our way. At the
bottom of the ditch the zombies have a hard time getting up the other
side and I start to breathe a little easier. Until, that is, the
zombies fall and the others just walk right on top of them. Now they
are getting closer. AND WE ARE STILL SITTING HERE! What the hell,
Will? I finally tune into what he is yelling about and realize the
damn Hummer won't start. He's screaming at the vehicle, I'm screaming
at him, and now the boys are awake and screaming at both of us.

Dad had already
driven off, not realizing we couldn't. Jake is behind us so he knows
we are having a problem. I don't know what to do! I look out my
window and the zombies are only about fifty feet away. Will's cell
rings and my first instinct is to ignore it but then I know it could
be Jake. It is.

"Oh my god!"
I scream into the cell.

"Shut the hell
up and listen. Raise the back seat and get out the rifle that is
inside. It's an automatic so it will shoot faster. There's more to
know about it, and I'll teach you later, but now just aim for the
head and go in bursts of three, re-aim and fire. GO! GO! GO!" I
was already getting it out before he had finished yelling. Rolling
down the window, I point it outside and aim. Pulling the trigger, I'm
startled with how it jumps in my hands, how fast it is, and
surprisingly light it is. Remembering what Jake told me, I shoot
three times then wait a second and shoot three times again. I hear
another gun and assume it's Jake, but kinda busy right now to check.

I'm closer to
running out of ammo in the automatic and the zombies are getting
thicker. They are at least ten feet away and still coming. I can't
see the end of them and for a brief second it crosses my mind that,
'this is it'. I squeeze the trigger and eventually I hear a click and
the gun will fire no more.

I toss the gun onto
the floor of the truck and raise my window. Still sitting on my knees
sideways in my seat, I put my hands up on the window and watch as
they come for us. I hear Jake's gun stop. And then the most beautiful
sound I think I may ever hear. "Holy Shit!" from Will, ok,
that wasn't it. It was the sound of the Hummer roaring to life. Just
as the zombies reach my side of the truck, we shoot forward and leave
them behind. I whip around toward the back and look for Jake. At
first, all I can see are the zombies but then I see the few that had
gotten in the front either fly to the side, are thrown through the
air and flipped, or crushed under his big tires. He's now behind us
and we are safe once again.

I take some time for
myself and my boys. I climb over the front seat and snuggle in
between them. One arm wrapped around each of them, I hold them tight
and we play some travel games like I Spy, sing a few silly songs, and
tell each other jokes. Out of place with what's going on? Exactly. We
all need this.

We find Dad and Mom
stopped on the interstate not too far away and Will hands my phone
back to me. I call my mom and tell her what had happened. I tell them
to not get out and to just keep going. Mom informs me she had talked
to my baby sister, Rose, and that it had started there now, too. She
is at her home (the one in the country on top of a hill) and hasn’t
seen anything there just yet. She had been in a large city about an
hour southeast of where she lives, sitting in her car on break
between her college classes, listening to the radio, when she heard
the reports on a Kansas City station. KC is only about an hour from
where she was sitting listening to the news report. She immediately
started her car and drove toward home, calling our brothers and our
other dad (remember I said we have two?). So now she is boarding up
the windows on the first floor. She had stopped at the local grocery
store on her way home and stocked up on food. She has a few hunting
rifles (actually they belong to her fiance. Yeah, I remembered their
official relationship.) and all the other kids should be arriving
soon.