Read Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) Online

Authors: Shana Festa

Tags: #undead, #zombie, #horror, #plague, #dystopian fiction, #zombie apocalypse, #zombie infection, #science fiction, #zombie novels, #zombie books

Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (3 page)

"I still think we should go back to mom and
dad's house," Vinny offered, for the third time. "They have
automatic hurricane shutters, and you know their pantry is stocked.
We could try to wait things out there."

"Seriously, Vin," chastised Jake. "Give it
up. We aren't going to lock ourselves in and hope for the
best."

"I don't get it. You had a front row seat to
the apocalypse every time you left to scavenge. How could you think
for even a second that's a remotely good plan?" I looked over at
Jake and gave him the please knock some sense into your brother
look.

"It's better than a suicide road trip up the
east coast," he retorted.

That was it! The look on his face sucked away
the last of my patience and I felt my cheeks go red. Jake saw it,
too, and after ten years of marriage he knew what was coming next.
Bless his heart for stepping in when he did.

"All right, all right, both your ideas blow.
We don't need to solve everything today. Let's take a break and
figure out what's for dinner."

Meg was rummaging through her backpack and
pulled out a checkbook-sized calendar, one of those free ones banks
give you for opening a new account. Like anyone used checks
anymore, even before the zombies. When she opened the wrinkled
calendar I saw black crosses marking the days, she must have been
keeping track. She let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Yesterday was Christmas Eve, which makes
today Christmas. Ho, ho, ho, can't you just feel the holiday
spirit?"

"I don't think Santa made the rounds last
night," quipped Jake.

The four of us sat around the dinner table
sharing cans of green beans, Spam, and corn. For dessert, a can of
peaches sat in the center of the table.

"Prime Rib," I said. My mouth watered just
thinking of my mother-in-law's prime rib.

"Mashed potatoes," added Jake.

"Green bean casserole," said Meg and Vinny in
unison.

We all sat licking our lips and making grunts
of approval as we listed off our favorite foods served on the
holidays. Our current feast was a miserable pittance. We sprinkled
the green beans with a meager dusting of Molly McButter in hopes of
adding a touch of flavor.

"Worst Christmas ever," Jake declared, and we
all agreed.

"Ooh!" I jumped up from the table, leaving
them looking stunned and confused, and ran to the bedroom. I
returned looking triumphant and waving my iPhone in the air.

"I may not be able to talk to anyone, but
there's still a little juice in this baby. What's Christmas without
Burl Ives and Bing Crosby? Thanks to my random taste in music, I've
got an awesome Christmas play list." I put the phone on the counter
and hit play. “Jingle Bells” started off the list, lifting our
spirits despite the gravity of our situation. A few more uplifting
songs and all four of us were singing along with the greats.

A short pause left us in anticipation of the
next song; the possibilities were endless. The power of music was
amazing; I had forgotten how easy it was for a song to evoke
emotion. Dean Martin's smooth baritone crooned from the small
speaker with his version of “Silent Night.” The little contentment
we built up fizzled as the depressing tune played out. By the end
of the song there wasn't a dry eye among us. If it was possible, we
felt even lower than we had before I whipped out the phone.

Meg stared down at her feet. "Thanks, guys, I
needed that. I think I'm going to go lay down and try to get some
sleep."

"Do you want me to come sit with you until
you fall asleep?" I asked her.

"Nah, I'm good."

Jake leaned over and gave her forehead a
kiss. "Night, Meggy."

I wasn't tired yet; the sun had barely made
its exit for the night. My mind was jumbled with memories of our
friends and their fates. The boys were deep in debate about which
rifle, the M4 or M16, was the better weapon.

"I'm going up on deck for some air," I
proclaimed.

They barely noticed me as I walked by. Daphne
wove excitedly between my feet as I climbed the stairs, causing me
to trip and stumble up a few steps. My elbow hit the wall when I
tried to steady myself, causing a sharp sting to shoot up to my
shoulder, and I yelped in pain.

"You okay?" Jake called from inside.

"Yeah, damn dog got underfoot and I hit my
weenus on the wall."

I heard Vinny ask what I was talking about,
and Jake explained that the weenus is that weird flap of skin on
the elbow. Personally, I was confounded by the weenus. It's so
strange. I can squeeze the skin hard enough that I should feel
pain, but instead I feel nothing. But hit that thing head on and
the nerve pain is crippling. Okay, so I know the human anatomy well
enough to realize there's a more technical term for it, but weenus
just stuck. Olecranon doesn't really flow off the tongue like
weenus.

"Come on, you little shit," I beckoned Daphne
to the top of the stairs.

The smell of smoke still lingered on the
breeze, and I still couldn't figure out if I was imagining it or if
it was real. Me and the pooch-wonder stretched out on the bench and
lay there staring up at the sky. The stars were the only things
that hadn't changed in this crazy world. Daphne nudged my hand in
an effort to garner some attention, and when I didn't give her what
she wanted, she inched up my chest with her front paws until she
was inches away from my face. I let out a snicker and the rise of
my chest gave her a little bounce.

It was a Mexican standoff. We stared into
each other's eyes waiting for the other to break first. When I
didn't resume the petting, she upped the ante. Her paw rose in the
air and she held it for a few seconds, daring me not to pet her.
Then, she hit me in the face a few times.

"Okay, I give," I resigned, and scooped her
up for some kisses. "You are seriously the cutest dog in the world,
and I mean even before you were most likely the last dog left in
the world."

Another smell mixed in with the phantom smoke
and fetid corpses. "Oh, come on!" I waved my hand wildly in front
of my face and objected. "Did you seriously have to wait until you
were inches from my face to fart? Gross!"

With dog farts marking the end of my peaceful
relaxation, I tucked her under my arm and was going to make my way
to bed when I noticed Jake had joined us on deck.

"What are you doing just standing there in
the dark? Creepy much?"

"Sorry, you were having a moment; I didn't
want to ruin it for you. These days, we've gotta make the most of
every minute of peace."

"Ain't that the truth?" I patted the seat
beside me and beckoned for him to join me.

He sat down and I leaned into him. His strong
arms wrapped around me felt good and I got closer.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he said.

I looked up into his face and sighed. "I feel
lost," I admitted. "What's the point of living if all that's left
is death?"

My vision blurred as my eyes filled with
tears that spilled over and slid down my cheeks. I took in a deep
breath and went on. "Jesus, Jake. They're all gone. How am I
supposed to go on when every time I close my eyes, I'm haunted by
their faces?"

He squeezed me tighter and Daphne whined from
the confinement between us, causing Jake to pull back just enough
so she wasn't being crushed. We sat in the dark, the only source of
light a crescent moon, and withdrew into ourselves. When the
silence became oppressive, I spoke again, this time my voice coming
out muffled with emotion.

"It's my fault Adam is dead; it should have
been me. It's not fair." I sobbed. "It's not fucking fair."

"He was a good man, a good friend, and he
loved you." His admission brought me up short, and I snapped my
head up to look at him.

"I…what? How did you know?" My face flushed
with guilt, as if I was somehow to blame for the way Adam felt.

"Anyone could see the way he felt about you.
The way he looked at you, treated you." He looked into my eyes, and
there was pity there. "I know you had feelings for him, too. I'm
not angry at you, I get it. I was gone and he was there for
you."

"Jake," I started, "I never—"

"Stop. I know nothing ever happened. I'm not
accusing you of anything, I promise. I'm grateful to him for being
there for you. I can't imagine what you went through when I didn't
come back to Target, and Adam stepped up to the plate. I'm forever
in his debt and will never be anything but thankful and honored to
call him a friend."

The guilt I had carried for so long about my
feelings for Adam lessened a bit, and the pressing weight lifted
just a little. I cried that wailing, ugly, cry reserved for the
direst of circumstances, and my husband just held me close,
muttering soft words of support and encouragement. "Let it go,
baby. Let it all go."

He lifted my face, inspecting the open wound
on my chin that I'd received the day before. Wincing, he said,
"That really should be stitched up. It's going to leave a nasty
scar."

"Humph," I mumbled. "Everything from
yesterday is going to leave a nasty scar."

When my tank of despair ran dry and my
sobbing quieted, I said goodbyes to Adam, Seth, and the rest of our
friends who perished. The conscious decision to let them go didn't
come easily, but if I didn't, I would drown in sadness and squander
the reprieve each of their sacrifices had provided me. Looking up
at the night sky, I said each of their names aloud and emotionally
guided them through the gates of Heaven. I paused after uttering
Adam’s name and added, "We will never forget you."

 

Chapter 02: That's What She
Said

 

I wasn't the only one who made their peace with
Sanibel, even Meg acted as if a huge weight had been lifted
overnight. She was already up when I dragged my tired behind out of
bed and escorted her royal highness to the upper deck for her
morning constitutional. Daphne's nub of a tail wagged in excitement
as she caught sight of Meg and she looked at me for approval to
leave my side.

"Go ahead," I encouraged, the lilting tone of
my response was all the urging needed for her to dart across the
fiberglass surface and over to my sister-in-law's waiting arms. Say
what you want about having the burden of an unpredictable animal in
times like these, but the rewards grossly outweigh the risk.

I'd seen, firsthand, the joy my precious
bundle brought to each life she'd touched since society collapsed.
There was no doubt about it; Daphne was a morale builder. I can't
count the number of times I would have considered throwing in the
towel if she weren't with me.

"Dude," I heard Vinny call out, "this boat is
fucking awesome. Hey, Jake, I think it might be even nicer than
your house." He let out an appreciative whistle while he walked the
length of the deck and took in all the amenities.

"You won't hear any disagreements from me,
bud," Jake replied without turning his head. He had a speculative
look on his face and was inspecting the dock and surrounding area.
I recounted and discovered our fan club still sat at eight.

Hmm, I thought, maybe the lack of additional
zombies meant something.

"You've got to be shitting me, a hot tub?"
Vinny lifted the cover and peered into the empty Jacuzzi. "Damn,"
he uttered, letting the top fall back into place and made his way
to the back corner where his jaw fell open and he looked at his new
discovery in awe.

"A waterslide? We have a freaking
water-slide?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't suggest using it so
close to shore. There's no telling what nastiness you'd be jumping
into," chimed Jake.

Vinny shuddered thinking of what was under
the murky water. "True-that. We are so taking that baby for a spin
sometime soon, though. I think we should fill the hot tub and let
the sun heat up the water. What good is a luxurious floating
mansion without the amenities?"

Meg laughed at her brother's reaction—a sound
I never thought I'd hear again—and it was sweet music to my ears.
Pretty soon we were all laughing, and like a well-needed tension
breaker, it's therapeutic effect helped wash away some of the gloom
that hung over our heads.

Beyond Jake, something from land glinted in
the sunlight and drew my attention. I scanned the area and found
nothing. About to write it off as a figment of my imagination, it
happened again. This time, because I was looking for it, I was able
to hone in on its location like an eagle zeroing in on its
prey.

I was up on my feet in an instant and running
to the front of the boat.

"What is it?" prodded Jake as the three of
them reached my side.

"I saw something, over there." I pointed to a
house a few streets over, a small corner visible through a gap in
the closest row of homes. "There it is again!"

"I see it, too," Meg exclaimed with
excitement. "In the corner window."

Our closer proximity to the zombies beyond
the seawall riled them up and their efforts to reach us increased
with a renewed vigor. The two closest to the water fell in with a
loud plop and were replaced with two more. And then there were
six.

We waved our arms over our heads in the
universal sign for SOS. Each round of waves were answered by
another flash of sunlight reflected back at us. Our excitement was
palpable, and the air around us was charged with electricity.

"Holy crap," blurted Meg. "There's someone
out there."

The next few hours were spent talking about
how to deal with our new friend and if we should risk the trip to
investigate. We were split evenly, the boys wanting to go on a
commando mission, the girls not ready to put their lives at risk
again so soon. As the morning went on, we continued to see the
signal in response to our attempts to make contact.

"What kind of boat has no binoculars?" whined
Vinny.

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