Dove: A Zombie Tale (Byron: A Zombie Tale Book 2) (6 page)

Sammy reached over and wrenched the wheel from my grasp, turning the car in a tight arc back toward the center of the road. It overshot its mark, however, and headed straight for a storefront across the way. Something in the steering must have been damaged on our way through the city. With all the potholes, steel plates, and bodies we crashed through and over on the way here, it would not surprise me in the least.

“Brace yourself,” Sammy screamed in the seat next to me. I didn’t even have time to get my hands up in front of my face before we burst through the glass. A puff of white vinyl smashed into my nose, blinding me and snapping my head back against the headrest. The car finally rolled to a stop.

Powder covered everything, and I blinked to clear it from my eyes. “You okay, Sammy?” I turned to look at him.

He had braced himself, all right, wedging himself between the dashboard and the passenger seat. His back strained against the seat springs, while his feet pushed against the dashboard. The airbag leaked out of the top of its compartment, but Sammy’s feet held the cover in place and prevented it from inflating. He wrapped himself in the seatbelt like a Christmas ribbon.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?” I couldn’t help chuckling as I asked.

“I’ll ask you the same thing, Casper! Look in the damn mirror.” He let out a great snort, followed by some guffaws.

I did and laughed at my reflection. Even the purple and crimson highlights in my hair were powder-coated white. “I look like I should attend the Continental Congress.”

“When in Philly…”

Glass shattered and fell to the floor behind us. Crunch—Crunch.

Something walked on the debris.

“There’s something out there.” His voice quavered a little with the revelation.

I reached for my bat in the back seat. “I bet we just woke up every Goner in a five-block radius. Dammit!”

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” he said patting me on the shoulder. “That’s my job.”

I shot him a nasty glare as I slid my seat belt off, ready to burst through the car door and wallop the first thing that walked by.

Crunch—Crunch—Crunch.

It approached on Sammy’s side of the car. I used hand gestures to tell him to stay put, I would climb out my side and take care of our visitor. He looked at me with puzzlement and then flipped me off. With a great exasperated sigh, popped the driver’s door open and whirled, slamming the aluminum baseball bat into the roof of my car. The force rattled my fillings as the bang filled the air.

“Whoa, there!” A voice called from the other side. “Hold on now, no need for violence. You had a pretty bad crash. I want to make sure everyone is okay.”

From inside the car, I heard Sammy make a strange sound.

I blinked my eyes at the figure standing on the other side of the car. He was tallish and boyishly handsome. Clean-shaven with a neat, yet fashionable faux-hawk in his dark hair. An odd aura encircled the centers of his eyes—gold? Silver? I couldn’t tell. He gave me a warm smile, but it struck me as forced instead of sincere. His skin radiated a golden halo. But the most prominent feature of his appearance happened to be the pair of matching Katanas he held in his hands. One pointed right at me, the blade of the other lay against Sammy’s throat.

“You mind putting those things away, jerk wad?” I poured as much ice as I could into my voice to quell the shaking I felt inside.

In a flash, the swords disappeared under his long, black trench coat and the passenger door opened. He lifted Sammy from the car and set him down on the floor.

Something moaned as it came crashing through the gaping hole my car plowed through the storefront.

“Excuse me,” the stranger said as he leapt toward the Goner shambling through the opening, the swords in his hands again. With fluid movements, he fell the creature, severing its head from its body and dispatched two more following close behind it. I stood paralyzed with shock, it had all happened so fast.

“It’s not safe here,” he called to me. “You and your friend may want to follow us.”

“Us? Who’s us?”

Grunts and groans resonated through the air from outside the storefront. I stepped toward the opening and peered outside to witness two more strangers doing battle with a handful of Goners.

“There are a couple of Lords skulking about. They’re a little more difficult than these common guys.”

“Lords?” I asked, feeling foolish.

“Mean mothers. They can regenerate, move with impossible speed, and are tough as nails. There were a couple of them following your car before you crashed. I lost sight of them. But they’re around here somewhere.” He scanned the streets and the rooftops.

The two strangers in the street finished their battle and headed over toward us.

“Byron, we need to get going. I think I saw one of the Lords on the roof over there.” The mousy-looking guy spoke with a nasal, squeaky voice.

“Oh, he’s up there, all right. Saw him zip by.” The burlier stranger added.

Byron looked at me and smiled again. “So what do you say? Travel with us? There’s safety in numbers.”

“Where are you heading?” I asked.

“To see if my parents are still alive,” the burly one responded.

“Where are you heading?” Byron mimicked.

“I am heading to see if my aunt is still alive,” I said.

“I’m just along for the ride, and to stay alive myself,” Sammy added.

“Great! Welcome aboard. Looks like we all have common goals.” Byron puffed up his chest, tightening his grip on the swords in his hands. “Now let’s get a move on before our friends decide to cause some trouble.”

~ ~ ~

When she leapt from her car, my breath caught in my chest. She had a unique style about her, but I could appreciate that. She had a natural, effortless beauty hiding beneath her gothic punk facade. From her polychrome hair, to her knee-high boots, to the cargo pockets, she screamed for attention. And from me, she got it.

“You big into Goth? Or Punk?” My voice cracked in an attempt to make small talk.

Your heart rate is accelerating, Byron. Does talking to this girl make you nervous?

I groaned under my breath. She turned her head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore your question.” She must have heard my groan because she shot me a nasty glare.

“Sorry here, too. The groan wasn’t directed at you. It was meant for…someone else.”

She scanned the group of us. “Oh. Right. Gotcha!” Sarcasm dripped from her crimson lips as she fired her fingers at me like a pistol going off.

Evan and John turned their faces away, but I could hear their snickering. “No, really. I didn’t mean to give you a hard time, or anything. My groan—”

“I don’t really care who you say you meant it for. Mouse, or Bruiser, or even Sammy. I don’t care.” She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head to one side.

This girl likes you. Her hormone levels have increased since we started walking with her.

I ignored the colony. They needed to learn when to keep their opinions to themselves. I also noticed that I walked a little slower. They needed to feed. That’s probably why I couldn’t block them out as well.

“Okay. That’s it.” I stopped and grabbed her arm. “We all have names. I am Byron. This is John, and that is Evan. I already know his name is Sammy. What’s yours?”

She narrowed her eyes at me, but said nothing.

“If we’re going to be traveling together, I would rather call you by a name—any name— than just hey you, or punk girl.”

“Dove,” Sammy interjected. “Her name is Dove.”

“Great. Now Dove, I need you to understand something. I may look normal, but believe me I am far from it. Not too long ago, I woke up dead in a morgue. Zipped up in a body bag, I thought my friends played a prank on me. Instead, I found the world turned upside down. It turns out that this little condition affecting people is the result of an alien microorganism trying to colonize animal hosts. In most animals, the colonization happens without a hitch. In humans, it all goes wrong if the microorganism reaches the brain. Something about human brain chemistry drives the bugs insane.”

Don’t call us bugs!

“In my case, my neck had been broken and the microorganisms could not reach my brain during their developmental stages. I survived colonization and have a symbiotic relationship with the microorganisms. Most other humans just turned to blood-thirsty monsters. In order for my body to survive, I need to feed on blood.”

“And what? You expect me to be a donor?” She raised her hands in defense.

“No. I feed on animal blood. Human blood would degenerate the microorganisms in my body and turn me into a common zombie. There are proteins in animal blood that the colonies need to survive. In return, the colonies have regenerated and enhanced my body.”

She pinched her eyes tight. “So, what are you? Are you dead? Alive?”

“Yes,” I returned without any inflection.

“Yes what? I don’t understand.”

“I suppose I am a self-aware version of a Lord. I am still myself, the same Byron Marks who died on his college campus, but my body has been fortified and enhanced by these little critters running in my veins.”

“What do you mean enhanced?”

“Just that. I have been enhanced. I am stronger, faster, see better, hear better. All my senses are greater than during my human life.”

The corners of her mouth turned up and downward at the same time. “You’re like one of those stupid vampires from that movie series.” Dove laughed.

“Not quite.” I could feel the warmth of blood pooling in my cheeks.

Evan started laughing. So did John. “What movies?” Sammy asked.

I tried to stay even-keel, but my voice betrayed my annoyance. “I only told you this because I need to feed. These two have become accustomed to me sucking on rats and animals. But newcomers may not take so kind to it. I also wanted to tell you, because these microorganisms speak to me in my mind. It’s not fun sharing your mind with a colony of alien beings, and sometimes I grumble and groan at them. Like before. But if you’ll excuse me, I need to feed the little beasts.” I didn’t wait for a reply or response, but ran with all my might into the nearest apartment building I could find. The familiar smell of rats filled my sinuses. A family nested nearby and they would be my meal. The darkness of the building’s cellar absorbed me, but I saw everything in the near absolute blackness with perfect detail.

Little beasts? Why did you call us this?

“It’s meant with affection. Don’t be so sensitive. Now be quiet, or I won’t be able to hunt.”

We don’t need to be silent. Only you can hear us.

I sighed deep and chose not to respond. In a few moments, I located the rat’s nest behind a cement block wall and punched through it, grabbing a handful of morsels by the tail. One by one I drained them, letting their warm, sticky blood course its way down my throat. My muscles surged with new strength and agility. I had waited too long since my last feeding. Grabbing another handful, I scanned the room for something to put them in. These would be a road snack. I couldn’t afford to go so long between feedings.

With my other hand, I emptied a plastic toolbox onto the floor and stuffed the rats inside, slamming the lid shut before they could escape. In a flash, I reemerged from the building and stepped into the daylight. My companions stood right where I left them.

Dove pointed at me. “How the hell did you get over there?” I almost laughed at the tone of her voice. Shock, awe, astonishment.

John gave me a golf clap. “You’re getting faster at this, my man. Did you feed the need?”

I nodded and held up the toolbox. “Brought a snack, too.” I walked back into the middle of the pack at normal human speed.

“Good. Now let’s get over to my parents’ place.”

“Yes. Let’s.” I tried not to stare at the expression plastered on Dove’s face.

chapter five

I couldn’t help
but stare at him. Even as we made our way through the city streets, I kept casting glances his way. He moved so fast. In one instant he stood talking to me, the next thing I knew he stepped out of a building holding a box filled with rats. It made no sense. What was happening to the world?

“So where do your parents live?” I asked, not sure which guys to direct my question to.

The burly guy, John, responded. “They’re about three blocks that way. They own a townhouse off Swain Street. If they’re still here. What about you? Where does your Aunt live?”

“She’s in a row house on South Mildred Street.”

“South Philly? Wow. You’re right by the stadium.” It surprised me to see no judgment in his eyes. Parts of South Philly could be sketchy.

“Yeah, and you’re over by Eastern States.” I guess I could have said it a little nicer than I did. He didn’t seem to react to the snark in my voice.

“Hey. It’s all good. When did this all start in Philly? We got hit in New Jersey a little while ago.”

“I’m not sure. I don’t pay attention to the news much. I’m usually too busy driving from one old place to another.”

“Wait a minute. Are you Sabrina Dove?” The mousy guy, Evan, stared at me with squinting eyes.