Savannah's Only Zombie (Book 2): A New Darkness
A New Darkness
By
Josh Vasquez
This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or
persons, living or dead (or undead), is coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Joshua Vasquez
All rights reserved.
Kindle Version 1.0
Cover design and additional artwork by Xavier
Martinez
To the one who brought me out of darkness and
into His marvelous light.
Table of Contents
A New Death: CJ's Story
always at it whilst you live; cease not a day from this work; be killing sin or
it will be killing you.”
John Owen
“In this life now, you kill, or you die. Or you die and you kill.”
The Walking Dead’s Governor
Traffic was at a
standstill. It had been thirty minutes since James Brighton and his car had
moved forward an inch. In the Georgia heat and humidity, thirty minutes was
forever, especially if you do not have air-conditioning. Sitting high above the
Savannah River on the Talmadge Bridge, James wiped sweat from his face and
fanned himself with an old catalog that never made it inside from the mailbox.
His small, four-doored compact was full of his belongings. Suitcases stuffed
with his clothes filled the trunk; his TV and other electronics filled the
backseat along with anything else he grabbed in his rush to leave the house.
I should have left
sooner,
he thought.
He should have. His
brother called him before everything even happened. Tried to warn him to get
the hell out of the city, but just like always, he ignored his older brother’s
sound advice. He had laughed it off at the time. The dead walking and eating
the flesh of the living? Strange government orders? Please, James had said,
that was movie stuff.
But he was wrong.
The dead were walking,
and they were in fact eating the flesh of the living. James had seen it
himself.
There was a
septuagenarian woman living in the apartment next to him. She could not even
hear her own TV and blared the volume throughout the night, but she always
complained to the super anytime James had a few friends over. She was the first
one that James saw turn.
She was in the hall when
he came home from work, standing with her face to the wall, swaying back and
forth.
How sad,
James had thought at the
time.
Alzheimer's must be kicking in. Maybe even Dementia.
But it was not
Alzheimer’s. Or Dementia. It was something else. Something that made the old
woman attack James with an unnatural strength and try to tear the skin from his
bones.
He grimaced. He could
not forget the sickening crack of skull and the slosh of brain matter from when
he bashed her head against his doorknob. He had no choice. He closed his eyes
and placed his head in his hands, his forehead slick with perspiration. He
should have listened to his big brother.
Damn my pride.
Things had always been
rough between him and his brother. Not that his brother did anything wrong, no,
that was it entirely; his brother was perfect.
Okay, maybe not perfect,
but definitely their father’s idea of perfect. John had been the Boy Scout, the
war hero, the family man. Basically, everything that James was not. While John
was a respectable fighter pilot for the Marines, James worked at Home Depot.
Nothing wrong with working at Home Depot, but when stacked against his
brother’s list of accomplishments, James always fell short.
What made it unbearable
was that John never gloated in it. He had been the perfect big brother. John
never picked on James growing up, always looked out for his younger brother,
and even lent him money when James needed it.
I’m the one with the
problem,
James
thought.
Traffic moved forward
three inches.
James was on the uphill
climb of the bridge, and from where he was sitting, he could not see what the
holdup was. This particular stretch of road between Georgia and South Carolina
was notorious for horrible back-ups. With the sudden exodus from Savannah, it
was much worse.
James sighed and cursed
himself again for not leaving sooner.
Looking out to his
right, over the Savannah Riverfront, he saw two small dots appear just above
the horizon. They increased in size as they drew closer; their shapes began to
grow more familiar to James. Soon enough, the sound that followed them arrived,
a roar of engines and wind.
They were fighter jets.
Not just any fighter
jets, but they looked to be the same ones his brother flew. The F-35’s flew low
to the river, much lower than James thought they were allowed to fly.
What are they doing?
Surveillance?
That did not seem right.
You do not send fighter jets for surveillance, at least, not without extensive
bombing afterwards.
James chuckled to
himself.
The thought of the
military bombing the city was ridiculous. Sure, when he had passed through the
city, he saw plenty of the monsters attacking people, but there were still
people fighting back and numerous others still alive. The city was not
completely overrun yet. It would be complete overkill to level Savannah.
The pair of jets flew
over the bridge. They were low enough to where you could see the markings on
the side. It could have been his imagination, but James swore he saw his
brother’s call sign on one of the jets. They passed over and then shot up into
the sky.
What are the odds that
is John? He’s probably been on high alert since everything started.
James heard screaming
come from the Savannah bound lanes. He looked over to see, about fifty feet
away, a monster attacking its family inside a car. The seat belt held it back,
but it was able to grab a hold of the person next to them. Blood pulsed onto
the window, covering the carnage behind it.
The people in the cars
nearby began to panic. Multiple drivers began to try to push themselves away
from the blood-soaked vehicle. This only caused the cars to become more
gridlocked. Finally, a large black man, the size of a football player, got out
of his truck. In his hand was a rather large hammer. He went over to the
monster’s vehicle, opened the door, and began swinging the hammer into the
creature’s head. After several swings, the thing’s body went still. The man
looked at the remaining family, nodded, and then returned to his vehicle.
The whole situation was
surreal.
How could this all be
happening?
Like James had told his
brother over the phone, this was all movie stuff. Fictional. Make-believe.
However, reality made a hard argument that the events starting yesterday were
very, very real. As if to punctuate his thoughts on reality, he saw movement
out of the corner of his eye.
The two jets had
returned and were now racing at the bridge at an incredible speed. James
watched as something detached from the jets, and they disappeared into the sky
again.
In front of him, the
bridge erupted into flame and debris. The suspension cables groaned and snapped
as the bridge twisted from the explosion. James shielded his eyes from the heat
blast. He could barely see through the thick black smoke and fire, but he heard
screaming. It took him a moment to realize it was his own.
Panic ensued.
The car in front of him
slammed into him in reverse, pushing him back into another car. He tried
stomping down on the brakes, but the car kept pushing. When the cars behind
them would move no more, the driver got out and began running away from the
blast. Others did the same.
The bridge shuddered.
James got out of his car
and ran. Others bumped into him as they all ran for safety. There was a loud
crack as one of the suspension cables broke loose and landed on a row of cars,
crushing them and their inhabitants. James picked up speed.
He ran several feet
until a large weight crashed into him. It sent him flying into a minivan, and
he hit the ground with a thud. The weight was quickly on top of him. There was
a sharp pain in his stomach as he opened his eyes.
The weight was humanoid,
but it was not human. It couldn’t be. Its eyes were as black as tar, bloodshot.
Its open mouth revealed rows of broken, jagged teeth. Rich, red blood
hemorrhaged from the cracks of its eyes, nostrils, and the corners of its lips.
It was not wearing a shirt, but James could not distinguish its gender. Its
chest looked to be torn off; the beginnings of rib cage poking through.
It was one of them.
One of the fast ones.
And its fingers were
clawing into James’s intestines.
He coughed, blood
spurting from his mouth. He felt his body go into shock. He did not feel the
pain, only the wiggling of fingers inside him. James watched as the monster
pulled out several feet of intestine and shoved them into its mouth. It chewed,
bile and fluids dripping down its chin. It could have been his imagination again,
or maybe the loss of blood, but James could have sworn it grinned as it ate.
I should have left
sooner.