Just Another Day in the Zombie Apocalypse (Episode 1) Read online

His stomach growled.

  He closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. The inhaler was working its magic, slowly allowing air to flow through his lungs again. Now he didn’t feel like he was dying anymore. Now he didn’t feel like he was drowning.

  In and out, in and out, he breathed. What would his mother say if she could see him now? She’d tell him he should have had more medication on hand. It’s just that the co-pays were so expensive, and most doctors would only prescribe you three inhalers at a time. Then he’d have to go back in, have another physical, and get a new prescription.

  It was just always so much money.

  Kyle preferred to wait until his supply got low before going in for a new script. He knew he should have asked for extras. He should have tried to stock up and have an emergency supply. His parents were really good about that: always have extra drugs on hand, but he wasn’t. He should have been.

  Now he regretted trying to save money on something that could save his life. He wished he hadn’t been so stingy all those years.

  He breathed.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  His mom. His dad. Were they okay? Were his siblings? The oldest of five, he was used to checking in on his folks all the time. They lived a state away, but that didn’t matter. Kyle was a devoted son. He was good at checking in on them and making sure they were okay. Now he couldn’t.

  He wondered if this disease had spread that far, if it had reached Colorado. His family was in the mountains. Maybe it hadn’t even hit them. Maybe they were okay.

  He knew it was a dream, though.

  This disease, this infection, if it was anything like the movies he’d seen, the books he’d read, it would spread fast and far. Maybe it was caused by a faulty vaccine or maybe it was biological warfare. Maybe it was an accident or maybe it was a terrorist. He didn’t know. No one knew. No one could.

  And Kyle was no hero.

  It wasn’t like he was going to go on a one-man mission to save the world or anything, to figure out what was happening. No, Kyle just wanted to know they were safe. He wanted to know that they were okay. He hoped his sisters and brothers were fine, that they were tucked safely inside, away from the madness.

  If they weren’t…

  He didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to think about what he would do if they had turned somehow, if they had become infected.

  Kyle knew what his father would do. Dad was a real man. He was a badass. He would do whatever he had to do in order to protect his family. He would take out any threat, even if it was his own flesh and blood.

  Kyle’s father wasn’t the type of man to hide away an Infected child in the attic. No, he wouldn’t be doing that.

  He would take the Infected outside and dispose of the body, no matter who it was or how much he loved them.

  Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and breathed.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  Chapter 4

  “Where the fuck is the food?” Mark growled and slammed the cupboard door shut. The family had really done a number on the kitchen before they left for their vacation. Cleaning out the fridge was one thing, but the cupboards?

  Really?

  He should have been grateful the family had cleaned out the fridge before their trip. He should have been happy he didn’t have to sit around smelling rotting meat or ruined fruit.

  He wasn’t, though.

  He wasn’t grateful.

  He was tired. Mark was tired and he was stressed and he was about at his limit when it came to being around other people. He was a solitary man and he needed time to himself to focus, to recharge. He needed time to regroup. He hadn’t gotten that and now he was feeling stressed.

  The nap should have helped, but he was so nervous about sleeping around other people, was so worried he’d slip into a deep sleep, that he had just lain in bed with his eyes closed until the others got up. He couldn’t nap. Not without alcohol.

  Mark’s stomach growled and he grunted in frustration. He didn’t want cereal or beef jerky or canned beans. He didn’t want anything from his backpack. He wanted fucking pie, wanted a steak. He wouldn’t be having any of that, though, and why? The zombie fucking apocalypse.

  Why couldn’t this have happened to him at any other time in his life? Seriously. Any other time would have been better than now. Even when he was married to his crazy ex-wife and she was running up thousands of dollars worth of credit card debt in his name, at least he had a house to live in.

  At least he had a damn car.

  This, though, this being on the run with his neighbors, this was so not going to work for long. He liked Kyle and Alice fine enough. They were good kids, but they were naïve as hell. Maybe it was the hunger or the exhaustion, but Mark was of half the mind to just walk outside and let the creatures take him.

  He could take his chances.

  Hell, maybe the virus wasn’t even spread from blood contact, but he knew that wasn’t true. He’d been reading horror novels and watching sci-fi flicks since he was a kid. He wasn’t stupid. It was always the idiots who thought “just one touch” or “just one peek” that died first. It was always the characters who weren’t afraid of the dark when they really should have been.

  Mark was.

  He’d gone to Afghanistan on a mission. He’d been brave, fearless. He didn’t have any sort of hero complex, but he’d been proud. He’d been chosen to deploy and he’d looked forward to it. There was a sense of honor that came from knowing you had served during war. There was a sense of accomplishment, of success.

  Only he hadn’t returned the same man.

  He’d returned broken.

  His therapist promised the nightmares would get better in time, but Mark wasn’t so sure. The only time he didn’t have them was when he got fucked up on the weekends with his buddies and passed out. Alcohol could keep the nightmares at bay, but he didn’t have that now.

  Now he had two young nerds to take care of, to babysit. In reality, Mark was the one who needed help.

  Charisma Martin hadn’t diagnosed him with PTSD. Why would she? PTSD meant he had a real problem and he’d need real therapy and the military would have to pay for that. Even as a veteran, he was eligible to receive medical treatment at the VA Hospital. He needed a diagnosis for that, though, and she hadn’t given him one.

  No, instead she’d written that he had PTSD-like symptoms, but that it wasn’t severe enough for an official diagnosis, and she’d sent him on his way.

  No drugs.

  No more therapy.

  No more help.

  Mark was scared. He’d been a good soldier: one of the best. He’d done everything right and he’d still come back a broken man, a scarred man. He’d tried to get back in to see the therapist. He’d tried to schedule another appointment, but the receptionist had said there were no more appointments available for the month and he’d need to call back on the first of the next month.

  He had.

  When he’d finally gotten through after an hour on hold, he was told the same thing.

  So Mark tried again.

  And again.

  And again.

  Soon six months had gone by and he’d given up, instead turning to alcohol and pouring himself into his new job. If he could stay focused on other things, if he could keep the nightmares at bay, then he wouldn’t be a danger to himself or to others.

  He wouldn’t admit to Alice and Kyle that the time they spent with him made him feel good, made him feel whole. They didn’t know a hell of a lot about his past and he planned to keep it that way, but he liked the way they made him feel like he was just a normal guy.

  He was just a normal guy with a normal job and a normal past who was trying to make a normal future for himself.

  At least, that was the role he played.

  What would happen now when he had to kill an Infected in front of them? What would Kyle think when Mark was able to kill one of these damn crea
tures with his bare hands? Would he think less of him? Would he be afraid?

  Would Alice?

  Mark’s stomach growled again and he shook his head. He didn’t have time to think of that right now. No, right now he had a pressing matter: food. He’d thrown some stuff in his backpack, but that was easily portable and he didn’t know how long they’d be here. Surely the people who lived here had left something edible they could eat that wasn’t completely boring. Today he wanted something real.

  He looked through a few more cupboards and managed to find a dusty box of croutons and a bottle of salad dressing.

  Fine.

  He’d take it.

  At least it would have flavor, right?

  On a whim, he looked around the bottom cupboards, the ones near the sink, and in the right cupboard, behind the stand mixer, was a bottle of cola and a candy bar.

  Bingo.

  He started to open the candy bar, ready for the sugar rush it would bring, ready for the sweet flavor to explode on his tongue. He needed it, needed any of it. Mark needed something to kill the pain that was threatening to overtake him.

  Then he heard Kyle coughing and he stopped. Fucking Kyle with his damn asthma. Mark should have known the kid was doing too much running. A sense of sadness washed over Mark. How long would Kyle really survive now? His asthma wasn’t severe, but it was moderate, and it took careful planning to manage.

  Kyle had to take a rescue inhaler when he exercised too much and at least once a year, Kyle’s doctor put him on a special, different puffer that lasted longer than the Albuterol would. Mark wasn’t exactly sure what it was called, but Kyle had explained everything to him one night on the roof, and Mark hadn’t had the heart to tell the kid the story was boring as fuck.

  Besides, he didn’t mind Kyle’s stories. Not really. They just reminded him of his buddies overseas, reminded him of the lives that had been lost, reminded him that he was alive and his friends were dead.

  Kyle coughed again. The sound rang throughout the house and Mark realized he needed to go to him. He needed to help Kyle stop. If he didn’t, Kyle’s attack would get worse. Then, even if he recovered, the next flare-up would be bad.

  Aside from that, though, they didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention to themselves. Not out here when this new, strange virus was going crazy.

  Mark had seen a lot of bad monster movies. One of his roommates in the military had been crazy for them. The thing about monster movies is that the monsters were always just a little bit different. They were essentially the same overall, but there were always one or two little things that would be different than what you expected.

  Maybe these creatures weren’t zombies, but they were something rabid. They were biting people and eating them up. They weren’t entirely human.

  Were they attracted to sound? To smells? To body heat?

  What was it that drew them to their targets?

  He didn’t know, and until he did, Mark needed to assume that any movements they made would be dangerous.

  Grabbing the food, Mark headed up the stairs as quietly and quickly as he could and headed into the bedroom. He needed to secure the first floor, but that could wait. They’d stay here tonight and give everyone a chance to rest, but Kyle needed him first.

  Kyle was on the bottom bunk coughing and Alice was kneeling next to him murmuring to him.

  “Did he take his inhaler?” Mark asked.

  Alice nodded.

  “He, um, didn’t want to, at first. You know, he wants to save it.”

  “It’s not a bad idea, but you need to take care of yourself, buddy,” Mark knelt next to the bed, too. “What good is a full inhaler if you die before you use it?”

  Kyle tried to laugh, but the sound was forced.

  “Here,” Mark held up the cola. “Old military trick.”

  “What?” Alice asked.

  “Drink it,” Mark handed the beverage to Kyle. Kyle managed to sit up enough to drink the soda in small, tiny sips. “The caffeine will help open your airways.”

  “Is that true?” Alice asked, obviously surprised. Mark nodded. “How do you know?” She pressed.

  “You learn a lot of things when you’re stuck in the desert,” he said simply.

  Thankfully, Alice let it drop. Mark didn’t want to be reliving any of those memories. Not today. Not ever. Luckily, Kyle took a few more sips, then set the coke on the nightstand and announced he was feeling a little bit better.

  “Good,” Mark said. “Try to get some sleep.”

  “But it’s still light out,” Alice waved to the window. The curtains were closed, but the sun was obviously still up. They’d slept the day away, then immediately tried to escape their apartment building.

  “No shit, sweetheart, but too much daylight has already been lost. We aren’t going anywhere until tomorrow.”

  “Then what are we going to do?” Alice asked quietly.

  “I don’t know, Alice,” Mark told her truthfully. “I just don’t know.”

  Chapter 5

  Alice had never considered herself to be that smart. Oh, she’d excelled in college and found it easy to get a good job in her field, but when it came to survival, she was out of her element.

  She’d been in some nature clubs as a kid where she had to earn patches and awards based on her performance in the wilderness. She’d gone on some campouts, built a fire, and swam in a lake, but she didn’t feel confident in her ability to survive this.

  This was so much harder. Facing an infection where you saw people die, where you saw people eating each other? That wasn’t something some childhood club could prepare you for. No, Alice’s wilderness badges had taught her how to survive in a rainstorm when she was already camping in the woods. She learned how to create a splint or a sling for a broken arm. She learned when she was supposed to go for help.

  This was different.

  And it was all so much to deal with.

  Mark left a wrapped candy bar on the nightstand for Kyle and offered Alice a box of croutons, but she shook her head.

  “Sorry. I just…I can’t eat right now.”

  “It’s fine,” Mark said. He set the food down, then turned back to the door.

  “Where are you going?” She cringed even as the words left her mouth. He was going to think she was needy, and that was worse than being stupid. At least if Alice was ignorant, she could learn. She might suck at building fires, but she could practice and get better. She might struggle with bandaging wounds, but she could improve.

  Being needy, though?

  That scared off men faster than asking if they ever thought about getting married or having babies.

  None of those were things she needed.

  Alice viewed Mark as a friend. She was a woman, though. His good looks didn’t escape her, but that wasn’t why she wanted him to stay around. She genuinely liked him as a person. He was clever, and quick. She’d played puzzle games with him before and he always bested her. He didn’t do it to be mean, but to challenge her, and she liked it.

  She liked him.

  But with the end-of-the-world thing happening, Alice didn’t really want to suddenly seem emotionally insecure or unstable. She didn’t want to frighten Mark off. The truth was that he didn’t owe her or Kyle a damn thing. He just didn’t. If Mark wanted to go find safety somewhere on his own, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  But she hated that she might be the one to push him away, so she bit her tongue as soon as she spoke the words.

  Mark turned back to her, but to Alice’s surprise, he didn’t look upset at her question.

  “We’re going to spend the night. I presume that’s okay with you guys?”

  They both nodded.

  “In that case, we need to make sure the house is as secure as possible without drawing extra attention to ourselves.”

  “Zombies,” Kyle said knowingly.

  Mark just rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, well, or neighbors, or the military, or cops,
or other random survivors who also want a decent place to stay.”

  “How do we do that?” Alice asked. “How do we make the house secure without advertising that we’re here?” It seemed difficult, hard. She wished she had more skills to help her friends out. In her corporate job, she had been a go-getter. She’d been a good writer and a solid researcher, but what good were those skills now? The lawyers she worked for loved how fast she could research a topic, but without her computer, Alice felt useless.

  Mark needed someone who was smart, witty.

  He didn’t need a corporate drone who could make a pot of coffee while juggling a conference call and writing a flawless report at the same time.

  “Come help me,” he said. “I’ll show you.”

  Mark held his hand out to Alice and she took a quick glance at Kyle, who was closing his eyes.

  “It’s fine,” he waved to them. “I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute.”

  “It’s the Albuterol,” Alice said quietly as she followed Mark into the hallway. She kept her hand in his as she gently closed the door to the bedroom. “It makes him drowsy. Most people…most people get more anxious when they take it, but I think Kyle stresses so much with his attacks that the meds bring him nothing but relief.”

  Alice liked the way Mark had taken her hand and led her from the room. It didn’t make her think anything strange, didn’t make her question their relationship somehow. She didn’t assume he was trying to seduce her or some nonsense like that, but it did offer her a small amount of comfort.

  Alice’s entire world had just been turned upside down and a little bit of acceptance from a friend was exactly what she needed. If they had been closer, she would ask for a hug. Alice was a huge hugger. Everyone at the office joked about it because there was a strict no-touching policy, but she broke it regularly. Somehow, no one had found it in them to report her. Probably, it was because she always managed to hug them when they needed it most.

  Mark, however, did not seem like the hugging type, so with a soft squeeze, she released his hand and followed him down the stairs into the living room. The room was still dimly lit. The lights were off, but rays of light managed to stream through the blinds. Like in Alice’s small apartment, she could see the dust bunnies dancing in the light.