The Grave: A Zombie Novel (37 page)

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Suzy and me...let’s just say she needs some time to deal with things. I don’t think now is the right time.” Kelly shook her head sadly. “I don’t know what to do or say to her anymore. She hardly spoke to me at all at the dinner the other night. She was acting strange too.
As if she knew something that I didn’t. I don’t know. I guess we should give her some space to come to terms with what happened.”

Mark murmured in agreement. “Okay, well I was thinking of showing my face at work today. You can come in with me if you want?”

“Thanks, but another day. I’m shattered. I might just go back to bed for a while.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” said Mark grinning and taking Kelly’s hand. He led her back to the bedroom and Kelly didn’t sleep again for a few more hours.

* * *

Kelly looked at herself in her pocket mirror and then flipped the case shut. She had tried to cover up the bags under her eyes, but she thought she still looked terrible. She was
sitting in a Starbucks close to the museum, drawing down her third coffee of the day. She had walked past the museum four times, trying to pluck up the courage to go in, but chickening out each time. There were too many memories, too many reminders of what she’d lost. The last few days had been a whirlwind. Each of her former colleague’s memorial services were blurring into one. There were no bodies to bury and too many people to comfort.

There was a television in the coffee shop
and she had ignored it, preferring to focus on what she was going to do about her work at the museum, than the latest reality show. Someone turned up the volume just as she looked up and she saw Mark walking toward her. He had his duffel coat on and Inca was trotting obediently beside him on a red leash. She watched Mark walk, finding herself falling for him more every day. She had certainly not expected to meet anyone and had not felt herself drawn to him at first. But now there was something that connected them, something nobody else would understand. Mark was an assured, honest man and she already felt comfortable in his presence. She watched him tie up Inca outside and then the coffee shop bell jangled as he strode in.

“Not
late, am I?” he said frowning.

“No, no, I’m early. I ordered you a latte. Then we can pick out some food. I’m famished.”

“Must be all that energy you’re using,” said Mark winking as he sat down.

Kelly smiled back, still not sure how to acknowledge their relationship. As good as it was, it was still early days and she didn’t want to put pressure on him for anything. She did
n’t have the experience either and so she tended to deflect attention away from herself when she could with a smile, a kiss, or something more.

Mark could see Kelly was distracted and he reached over the table for her hand. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing really. Just lots on my mind.” She leant over and gave Mark a quick kiss. “What’s with the television? With that and the coffee grinder, I can barely hear myself think in here. You want to go somewhere else?”

Mark looked up at the television and realised why it had been turned up. “It’s the memorial service in California. See?”

Kelly turned to see the screen positioned high up in an alcove above the counter. Whilst they waited for Mark’s latte, they watched some footage of the newly built Golden Gate Bridge before the TV station cut to President Agnew. He was stood on a semi-permanent platform, somewhere in downtown San Francisco. He was flanked by his security and Kelly was sure she recognised some of them from the White House. A man with cropped white hair was there and behind him, she could just see Sophie. President Agnew stepped up to a multitude of microphones to begin his speech.

“Let’s just listen to what the prick has to say,” said Mark. He was curious to know if Agnew would make any reference to The Grave. He felt sure the media would have a barrage of questions lined up. He watched as Agnew slicked back his hair and brushed away the first question.

“...given Senator Collins’ untimely passing, I am deeply honoured to be here today. I was not going to let a slight cold bar me from remembering those who lost their lives in this magnificent American city. The terrorists will never win. I know the American people stand shoulder to shoulder, united in defeating our enemy whoever and wherever they are.”

Kelly heard Agnew say he had a cold, but he looked fine. Probably another tactic to gain some sympathy, she thought.
There was a smattering of applause and some audible coughing that grew louder.

“Someone’s too close to the mike,” said Mark to Kelly. “They should...” Mark stopped as he realised something was wrong. Agnew was looking backwards and not at the camera. Agnew looked puzzled by something.

Kelly stood up, knocking her coffee over. She ignored it as a shiver ran down her back. “Mark. You don’t think…”

“What?” said Mark
frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Kelly watched the scree
n, unable to tear her eyes away and unable to believe what she was seeing. Behind the President, people were gathering around something or someone. The white-haired man crouched down and Kelly was sure she saw Sophie collapse. Agnew appeared unsure if he should carry on with the speech or stop and attend to his wife. A young blonde woman rushed up and said something to the President before stepping back out of the camera’s view.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s nothing to worry about.
Unfortunately, my wife seems to have caught the cold I managed to shake off. I’m assured she will be back up on her feet any moment and we can carry on with the service.” Agnew glanced over his shoulder uncomfortably as various people ran back and forth behind him.

A
scream echoed through the television signal to every home in America. Kelly heard something shatter, some shouting and then saw the group of people behind Agnew scatter. They ran in all directions, leaving Agnew standing alone on the stage. One man clutched his arm to his chest with blood clearly pouring from a fresh wound. Somebody threw up as they ran in front of the camera and the white-haired man Kelly vaguely recognised was staggering away whilst pressing something against his neck. The cloth, or whatever he held, was turning a dark crimson, and he was helped off stage by two other men in suits.

The cameraman appeared to be unsure of what to do as the images on the screen blurred in and out,
until he finally zoomed in on the chaos behind the President.

Sophie Agnew had blood dripping down her front. She was chewing on something ragged that looked like strips o
f bacon and her eyes were glassy. They settled on her husband, and the cameraman panned back as Sophie staggered toward the podium.

Abruptly,
the television screen turned black. There was a faint electronic whistle as the power died and Kelly became aware of the gasps of the people around her. The cafe was silent, apart from the coffee machine gurgling away on the counter. Kelly could hear sirens wailing in the background and Inca barking. She turned to the glass doors. A female jogger ran past outside, a crumpled newspaper flitted by and a yellow cab pulled up quickly. For New York, it was another ordinary autumn day and yet she had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Mark stood up as the atmosphere in the café became tense. People were shouting for the TV to be turned back on and others were leaving quickly. “What the hell was that?” he said to Kelly.

Kelly broke out in a cold sweat. Images flashed to her of Will, Claire and Tug. Roach’s hands gripped her and she was rooted to the spot. She couldn’t hear Mark’s insistent voice, telling her they had to leave, and only turned to him when the TV was turned back on. The screen had an emergency broadcast signal on, announcing they hoped to be back on the air momentarily. “Oh, Suzy, what have you done?” said Kelly.

Mark grabbed her and they ran outside into the cold New York wind.

THE END

Read on for a free sample of “Chet and Floyd vs. The Apocalypse”

Chapter - 1

“Okay, Chet, who do we grab?”

“It’s not that easy Floyd. There is too much to think about.”

“Think fast. If we stay here too long we’ll be the food.”

Huddled in the corner of the water-sodden and decaying upstairs bedroom was a family, consisting of a man, a woman and a child. Even in their fear they did not hold each other with any fervent animal panic. Their postures showed defeat and patience in as they waited for their sentence to be carried out.

Their jury consisted of two men, tall and lithe. White skin peeked under layers of grime. The one named Chet had brown hair that was slicked down, probably by saliva, into a little boy’s part. He wore glasses that he constantly adjusted, as if they caused him discomfort. He was looking at the family with a frown that moved and twitched as his thoughts changed.

Floyd, though not over thirty, had the shockingly white hair of an old man. He was as much a statue as Chet was constant movement. He stared directly at the family without even as much as a blink.

“Do you even have any thoughts on this one yourself?” Chet asked Floyd. “You will have as much to blame in this decision as I do. You have to have an opinion.”

“I know that I’m starving, and I need to eat,” Floyd said. “I’m running out of morals on the whole thing. Just pick somebody. This was your idea.”

“And you’re just going to go along with it? I’m talking about eating people Floyd. This is not the usual way you choose between Chinese and Italian,” Chet said and laughed. “Don’t give me any trouble about the morality issue of it. I am starving as much as you, and you know I would never be inclined to do what we are about to do if I had any other choice.” Chet paused in his speech, waiting for Floyd to save his soul with a word. Floyd kicked a piece of debris into the corner where the family sat. They yelped.

“You don’t need me to aid in your conscience Chet,” Floyd said.

“Yes I do! Balm me Floydy baby.” Chet puckered his lips at Floyd. Floyd slapped him.

“Be serious.”

“I don’t think I can. How do I make the choice? Aren’t you going to help me?” Chet said. His twitches became more serious as his agitation grew.

“I’m going to slap you again if you start getting crazy on me,” Floyd said. “Get serious Chet.”

“I am serious.” Chet smiled wickedly and looked back at the family. “Although I think you are a bit of a bully for making me decide. You don’t really think about my feelings too much.”

“I’m just thinking about my stomach,” Floyd said.

“I don’t suppose you people could help me out with this?” Chet asked the family. His question was answered by the sound of water dripping off shredded wall-paper. “Funny. I would think you would have the most opinion on the matter. Let’s see…we could take the father. Couldn’t we Floyd?”

“We could take the father,” Floyd said.

“Then what will the family do about food? We will leave them with just the mother and the boy. I don’t want to sound sexist or anything Floyd,” Chet said. He looked at Floyd for reassurance. Floyd waved his hand as if to say that he wasn’t offended. “Men are just the more powerful sex, and this world is just not hospitable. It’s just not safe. We take the father, and we take safety.”

“We could take the boy,” Floyd said. The boy in the corner whimpered at the comment.

“You can’t take my son,” The woman said.

“It’s too late for you to have an opinion,” Chet said. “You had your chance to pipe up, and you all played dumb.  Now that I know you can hear me and respond to me, I can write you off as rude. My mother always said it’s polite to respond when someone speaks to you. You are rude, and I don’t care to converse with rude people.” Chet turned from the woman and spoke to Floyd. “We could take the boy, but he won’t provide much of a meal.”

“I may be able to turn the other cheek with your sexist comments Chet, but I don’t appreciate your ageist statements.” Floyd made a disapproving face.

“Is there even such a thing as that?” Chet said. “I didn’t know I had such a problem. I guess you’re right Floyd. I don’t like taking the boy based on his age. I tried to cover it up, but, as always, you see right through me. Eating a person makes me feel bad enough.
But a child? For whatever reason I feel even worse about that. There is just something so wrong with that.”