Dove: A Zombie Tale (Byron: A Zombie Tale Book 2) (12 page)

She tossed her head back. “Are you kidding? In Philly? Please. There are lawyers that are homeless.”

I cocked my head to one side, but decided not to press the issue or inquire further. Admittedly, I am not a fan of big cities. Philly is my least favorite. It’s just too bad they couldn’t have tested out using a nuke on the place to see if it would stem the spread of zombies.

“So which direction?” The Rover coughed to life and roared like a lion, ready for action. She pointed and I pulled away from the curb. “Think you have enough provisions?”

While we were at the house, we raided the pantry. The effort was largely fruitless given that both inhabitants ate out nearly all meals each day. At least we were able to grab some long-lasting canned goods, a couple of extra flashlights and batteries, and some clothes.

“We can grab more from the restaurant, I suspect, if we need to.”

“Fair enough.” I flipped on my directional and made a turn, then face-palmed with a groan. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Old habits die hard. You learn to drive one way. You’re conditioned to use your blinker whenever making a turn. And now when there are no other drivers on the road, you still feel the compulsion to obey the traffic laws.”

“Didn’t even think about it. Just did it.”

She directed me through the streets to our destination.

“I take it you’ve driven this route a few times.”

She gave a shy smirk. “I’ve had to pick Aunt E up from the restaurant a few times.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“A few dozen—a couple hundred—Okay! Tons! Tons of times. She hates to take the bus and I don’t want her to walk in those neighborhoods. It’s just not safe. So I drive her.”

“You’re a good niece. How come you’re living with her?”

“I lost both my parents a while back. She took me in without question. We’ve been two peas in a pod since.”

“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that. How did they die? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Used to be a time when I minded. Not so much anymore. I barely remember them. I remember my mom more than my dad. He worked all the time and had a horrific commute. I barely saw him as a child. All I remember of him is that he had really strong hands. He used to do this thing where he would put his hand on the table and pretend it was a spider. I would try to crush it with all my might. For the life of me, I could never make it go down.”

“What about your mom?”

“I remember much more of her. She did everything for me. She was my guidance counselor, my life coach, my friend and confidant. She bathed me, clothed me, fed me. She gave up who she was in order to care for me. What I remember most about her are her eyes. She had these gorgeous chestnut eyes. And her hair. Always short. She was a natural redhead.”

We made a few more turns.

“So whose sister is your aunt? Your dad’s or mom’s?”

“She’s my dad’s sister. Mom was an only child.”

“What’s she like?”

“My mom?”

I gave her a goofy smirk. “No. Your aunt. What’s your aunt like?”

“She’s a workaholic. Now that I am making an income, she’s relaxed a little. She’s down to just the one job. When I was still in high school, she worked three full time jobs to make ends meet. When I started college, she had to knock it down to two and things got tight. But with the success of my blog, we’re able to survive off our combined incomes.”

“I never would have figured Philly to be such an expensive city to live in. It always seemed so…”

“Avant garde? Trendy? Hipster?”

I cringed a little as I said it, “Dirty!”

“You know, Philly gets a bad wrap because of its close proximity to New York City. It’s like the overshadowed little brother.”

“Yeah, but it is a filthy city, you have to admit.”

“All cities are filthy,” she countered.

“Fair enough. But for some reason, Philly always seems more so. Maybe it’s just because I grew up in New Jersey. Maybe it’s because I hate the freakin’ Eagles. Who knows. All I know is that I can’t stand Philly. The sooner I can get out of here, the better.”

“Well, make a right here. Her place is five doors up. Once we get her out of there, we can get on the road to Eastern States.”

“I never thought anyone could ever make going to a prison sound like a good thing.” I gave her a toothy grin as I pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road.

A Goner shambled across the road three blocks up, but otherwise the neighborhood appeared quiet.

“Which one is hers?”

Dove pointed out the window to her right. “If she’s here, she’ll be in there.”

I nodded. “You ready?” Pointing to her sword, I asked, “Know how to use that thing without hurting yourself?”

She glared at me hard, her eyes spitting acid. “Just lead the way, chump.”

I chuckled as I opened the driver’s door and slipped out onto the street. We stood together on her side of the Rover, staring into the deep-blue tinted windows of the restaurant. Nothing moved inside.

Her breath shook as she sighed. “I hope she’s all right.”

“Me too.” Raising one sword, I stepped forward and opened the door to the establishment.

chapter nine

I exhaled a
deep, but quiet sigh as I crossed the threshold into the restaurant. Despite that I’d been here hundreds of times over the last two years, it still amazed me at how such a dingy place held a strong following. Its success probably owed much to the massive bar stretching across one whole wall from nearly the front window to the restroom doors at the back. It reminded me of something from that really bad 1980s bar movie with Tom Cruise in it.

A gloomy pall hung over the place, almost like it tried to warn me of something. Only I didn’t want it to tell me anything bad. With all that had happened so far today, another tragedy would be too much to handle.

Silence greeted us inside. Utter, absolute silence. Not even the skittering of rats or the scratching of roaches across the vinyl flooring.

“I don’t like this.” Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help the tremble in my voice. “This place is never empty. There should be Goners galore in here. It’s one of the most popular restaurants in this part of town.”

“Try not to think the worst, yet. You don’t know if anything bad happened here. Maybe the manager closed the place down before everything escalated. Don’t make too many hasty assumptions.”

I grimaced at Byron. He didn’t deserve it. I didn’t care. I needed some way to vent my displeasure at what he said. Even though I knew he was right. I walked away checking under tables for any signs that Aunt Esmerelda could be safe.

“Do you think this place even opened today?” Byron wiped his finger across a table top and examined it.

“I’m not sure. I left early and didn’t hear her come in last night from work.”

“So you don’t even know if she’s here?” He raised one eyebrow at me.

“It’s the best shot I have at finding her.” Anger crept into my voice. “She’s all I have, Byron. I can’t just give up on her.”

He nodded. “I know. Trust me, I know. John, Evan, and I are all on our way to find our parents and see how they fared.”

“I just wish I hadn’t been so stupid. I mean, how could I not notice something like this happening around me? The world is falling apart at the seams and I’m sitting in my room fiddling.”

“Listen, Nero. You live a busy life with odd hours. You don’t pay attention to the world much. There are a thousand excuses and reasons for why you missed it. But you’re here now. You are surviving the zombie apocalypse, and that’s more than a lot of people can say right now. I mean, literally. Many people can’t even talk.” A wicked smirk flit across his face. “They just sort of shuffle and grunt. Moan, maybe. I mean, hey—they’re dead.”

“You’re a jerk,” I thumped him in the arm as I tried to hold back a chuckle. “These were people, you know. You could be a little more sensitive.”

“I’ll be a little more sensitive when they don’t try to kill me.” He stopped and looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. “Oh yeah, they already did kill me.”

A pan, or something, fell in the kitchen. Byron tensed, his swords at the ready. I tightened my grip on my own sword. Not a word passed between us as we stalked toward the rear swinging door.

Standing on my toes, I craned my neck, trying to peer through the round porthole window high in the door. The lights were out. Shadows and darkness abounded.

I leaned close to the door, pressing my ear up against it. Again, nothing. Not a sound could be heard from the other side.

I glanced at Byron and shrugged.

He motioned for me to move out of his way, then slipped through the swinging door into the dark beyond. A moment later his arm slipped back out and waved me in. I clicked on my flashlight and followed behind.

“Wha—”

He raised a hand and cut me off, leaving a finger pressed against his lips. Pointing toward the freezer, he tipped his head to the side. As we stalked over, he motioned that I should open the door while he looked inside.

A chill clawed its way up my spine as I passed by the yawning black void of the basement door. With all the times I had been in the restaurant, that door made me nervous. It always conjured mental images of deep, nameless horrors residing in the subterranean storage room. I know these were foolish, childish conjurations but could not help the feeling of dread they instilled in me.

I sucked in a lungful of air and held it as I walked by, as if that would save me from some unseen force down below. Then again, given the current state of the world, and the adventure I had recently gone through at the convent, the force would not be unseen. It would be undead. Like my companion.

I let the breath out in a huge sigh, cursing myself for the wandering thoughts. Grabbing the bar handle, I nodded to Byron, ready to yank the door open and duck behind it.

He braced himself a hair’s breadth from the opening, holding one sword high and the other low like some Kung Fu movie hero. He turned to me, then back to the door. He nodded.

I pulled the handle and dragged the heavy steel freezer door open, slipping in behind it. A scream filled the air, high pitched and loaded with fear. A woman’s scream. A familiar scream.

“Close the door! Quick! They’re in the basement!” The woman’s voice yelled, and as I rounded the opening, another group of noises assailed my ears from the yawning black of the basement door—moans. The belabored moans of the Goners.

Byron grabbed me by the arm and shoved me inside. My flashlight spun across the freezer floor as the scent of rotten food stung my nostrils. I tripped as the freezer door slammed shut, landing on one knee. Locked inside, I looked up at the other occupant, her face partly shrouded from the cone of light cast my flashlight’s landing place in the corner.

“So what brings you here, Sabrina Dove?”

“I came to rescue you, Aunt E.”

“Yeah? And who’s going to rescue you?”

~ ~ ~

Okay, so I knew that her aunt would be locked inside the freezer. It seemed the most logical place for someone to hide out during the zombie apocalypse. She would have food, shelter, and protection against the dumbest enemy the world could imagine. However, I did not expect that the basement would house a nest of resting zombies.

I really did hope I hadn’t hurt Dove when I shoved her into the freezer. The door needed to be shut. I could hear the footfalls at the bottom of the stairs and knew it would not be long before the Goners swarmed. After all, I didn’t know how many were down there. Nor did I know if there were any Lords with them. When that woman shouted in a panic, all I could do was react.

So I shut them back into the freezer, ready to face the throng of dead creatures shambling up the basement stairs. I examined the doorway with my enhanced vision—narrower than most modern doorways. It would be a great place to cause a bottleneck. It wouldn’t matter how many of these damn things were trapped in the basement, as long as I could fight them one at a time, I could do it all night long if I had to. Provided that nothing came in from the outside.

Moving with enhanced speed, I barred the door between the kitchen and dining room, then whipped around to face the basement. The first body moved in the darkness through the opening. Lunging, I pierced its brain with one sword before giving it a mighty kick backward down the stairs. It didn’t fall, however, held buoyant by the many others climbing the stairs behind it. The first victim of my blade finally tipped forward and landed on its face as another burst through the darkness with reddish black ooze the viscosity of oil dripping from its mouth.

I jammed the blade between its eyes as two more beasts tried to exit the doorway at the same time. Their bodies slammed into one another and they stuck within a frame that barely allowed a narrow-chested man to pass through without difficulty. Both swords plunged into dead tissue, through the ears of each corpse. The bodies toppled forward as Goner after Goner poured through into the kitchen.

Had the entire restaurant climbed down into the basement?

As wails and moans grew in intensity, I realized that yes, it had. And then some. Some poor, unfortunate soul must have tried to make a run for it and hid down in the basement. The creatures must have smelled him from a mile away and one by one went down there to have their piece of the smorgasbord.