POW! (Book 1): The Zombie Days (2 page)

Evelyn chuckled. "She has her moments, I’ll give you that much, but she always means well."

"So, how does it feel to know that you had a face full of Carolina's pie after I had my way with it?" Kyle asked with the biggest shit eating grin one could fathom.

"That is not cool, bro." I could feel my stomach turn as I spoke the words.

"I'm not sure I'm such a big fan of your friend over here, Peter," Evelyn said. She was rubbing her knuckles, which were probably growing sore from hitting Kyle repeatedly in the shoulder.

"Well, I guess that makes two of us, then. C’mon, let's get you out of here."

Chapter Two

"So, she's a little hottie, don’t you think? And I’m pretty sure she kinda likes me, too." Kyle grinned at me with a dreamy look on his face.

"Yeah, bud. I'm sure she does. Sadly for you, I’m sure she likes me at least a hundred times more."

"You may think that, but her mom totally loves me. Chicks really like guys that their moms approve of."

"Man, where do you get your world views? I've met a lot of people in my life, but so far you're the only person I've met that is wrong every single time that they open their mouth."

"Harsh, bro. You don't gotta be a dick about it," said Kyle.

"Sorry man, that came out a little meaner than it should have."

"Tell you what. You let me take the first shot at Evelyn and we'll be good." There was that smile again. Shit just oozing from between his teeth.

"You're dreaming, Kyle. You can't approach girls. Even if you could, I'm pretty sure she is repulsed by you despite what her mom might think."

"That's my plan."

There were no words that came to mind to describe how stupid he sounded to me.

"What?"

"No, man, it’s nothing. That’s a great plan, now, uh, let's get going."

"We got someplace to be?" he asked.

"Just follow me, bro, you'll see."

Kyle followed me as I began to walk toward our next destination. When we got to my special marker on the side of the road, we turned and headed directly through a heavily wooded area.

"How did you
not
know that Carolina had such a smoking hot daughter after working with her for so many years?" Kyle asked.

"It’s not exactly like we were buddy-buddy and talking it up all the time. I never looked at the photos on her desk and she never came into my office for a chat. If I
had
known that lovely little thing was her daughter, I probably would have been just a little bit nicer at work," I said, reflecting on what now seemed like a missed opportunity.

Kyle nodded in agreement and went back to our current situation. "Okay, so where the hell are we going, man?" He asked a bit nervously. "I know how horrible you are at finding your way around in the woods. Actually, you kind of suck at finding your way around anywhere. It’s almost like you were born with no sense of direction whatsoever."

"Why? Are you worried? We're two big grown men with rifles. Plus, they don't usually come out here where there are so many trees and so few meals. Oh, and just for the record, I’m great with directions."

"Dude, some days you can’t even find your way out of bed in the morning."

The thick patch of trees gave way to an old bridlepath. "How the hell did you ever find this, Pete? And where does it lead?"

"You know how boring it is in this town? It used to be pretty cool when there were zombies around all the time and we could stay busy, but now that there are fewer and fewer of them, I'm just sitting around waiting for most of the day. So, sometimes I just go explore shit."

"Whatever you say, homie. Just tell me what's down here?"

"Now
that
is the question, my friend," I said, smugly.

About two miles later, we came upon an old, decrepit cabin. From the outside, it looked as though it hadn’t been inhabited for years.

"This place looks like it sucks balls, dude. Why would you ever even go in there? There are spider webs all over and I can only imagine the wildlife waiting to make a meal out of you. And that's only if you're lucky! How do you know the former occupants haven't turned and are just waiting inside for a bite to eat?"

"Just calm down, Kyle. I looked in all the windows before I went in. You know I'm a professional."

"A professional what?" Kyle asked.

"Do you want to know what I found or not?"

"Okay, okay. I'll shut up. What's in there?" I could tell he was still pretty nervous.

"Come check it out."

"You know, you keep saying that instead of just answering the damn question, homie."

"Hey, if you don't want to play along, you don't have to, bro. But I'm pretty damn sure this is well fucking worth it for you."

"Well, I can't really argue with that now, can I?"

"There's the Kyle I know. Now go ahead and open up the door," I told him, knowing how much he'd love the idea.

"Have I mentioned that I think you're a total dick?"

"It's possible, but I don't always listen to you when you talk. Now get up there, girl." I gave him a little shove towards the door. Now it was my turn to grin like a giant prick.

With his shoulders slouched forward, he slowly made his way to the door. Looking over his shoulder, he said, "This door is going to creak like in all the scary movies when we were kids, isn't it?"

"You're such a girl, dude."

Kyle slowly opened the door and peaked inside. It was perfectly silent. The perfect opportunity. Right behind him, I grabbed him by the shoulders and screamed as loud as I could while shaking him violently.

"WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE?!?!" He may have shit himself a little bit.

"Sorry, man. I couldn't help myself. You understand, I'm sure." To anyone else these words would have been unintelligible laughter, but Kyle knew exactly what I said.

"You're lucky I'm the only person that's as big of an asshole as you. I would have done the exact same thing. I probably should have seen it coming, to be honest. Well done." He was still trembling and his eyes were wide from the scare I’d given him. He had even lost some of the color in his face.

"That's why I love you, bro. Check it out, the door’s open and nothing is coming out to eat you. Can we please go inside now?"

"Yeah, let's just get it over with, already." I could see he was still trying to control his breathing.

"I’m sure you’ll be changing your attitude soon enough. It's still worth it, you’ll see. Follow me." I strolled in like I owned the place. I suppose I did, being that as far as I knew, no one else had spotted it. There wasn't much to look at in the cabin’s main room. It seemed to me that some kooky war vet used to live in the place. There were a bunch of photos of a dude in uniform with different people in different uniforms. It looked like the guy had gotten around.

"The first thing I'll show you is this way," I said, beginning the guided tour.

I took Kyle to the next area, which was more or less a storage room. He was taking it all in. His head was on a swivel as he looked for what I had promised would be so exciting. On the other side of the door was a room filled with boxes and boxes.

"What is all this?" he asked. Cautiously opening his first box, he saw it was filled with beer. "No. Fucking. Way!" He shouted as he tore the box open the rest of the way.

"Oh, hell yes! This room is filled with booze, man. Beer, liquor, wine; you name your poison. We're all set, man. We'll go ahead and keep this just between us, right? Until we have more time to figure out what else we can do with it, anyway."

"All the alcohol in town and it’s just for us? That sounds fucking legit, Pete!"

"I thought you'd feel that way. Good thing, too. You still have to see what’s in the next room."

"Uh, no. I really don’t, homie. I'm never leaving this room for the rest of my life. I live here now. This is my new home. Could you go ahead and have all my mail forwarded here?" He was already sipping away at his first beer in ecstasy.

"Trust me. You'll really want to see what’s behind door number two." I passed into the through the door and made my way across the main room into the next space. Kyle followed reluctantly, stuffing another beer into his pocket.

In the new room was a thing of true beauty. Carefully tucked inside a glass display case, that I had wiped the dust from when I initially found the place, sat two M16-A4 rifles—Military grade. Each had its own optic mounted on it along with a flashlight with a pressure switch on the pistol grip. The guns looked like they had hardly ever been used. There were no scuffs on the stock or anywhere else.

"Shit . . . I didn't make it, did I?" Kyle asked. “That zombie got me and this is heaven? Oh well. At least I made it to heaven, huh? Oh! And at least this way I'm sure to get a chance at fucking Evelyn! Sex, booze, and guns; I think I can do this for eternity."

"No, bro. This ain't heaven. And even if it was, you'd still have no shot with my little butterfly. This shit’s as real as it gets, man. These footlockers are all full of incendiary rounds, see the yellow tips?" I asked as I flipped one of the lids open. "We'll be able to really protect our town now, my friend."

"This is like . . . if a million years of Christmases and birthdays had an orgy to produce this one perfectly crafted, beautiful day just for me. I can die happy now."

Chapter Three

“AAAAAHHHHH!"

I was ripped away from my beautiful, drunken dream of the breasts I’d met the day before by an unnaturally loud sound. Was there a woman in here?

"What in the unholy hell is happening?!" I shouted the slew of slurred words. The light burned my eyes as I tried my best to keep them open and find the source of the sound.

"Sorry to wake you, bro. Liquor got the best of me this morning. I've been yakking for a good hour now," Kyle called from the bathroom down the hall.

"Man, when you puke, you sound like a goddamn exorcism. You alright in there, man?" I said as I made my way down the hall.

"Best. Night. Ever, Pete. I think I just got a bit carried away last night. I had a little bit of everything there was. How are you holding up?"

"You know me. With all this Irish blood in me, I still feel like a million bucks."

He turned his head to look at me as I stood in the doorway. "Well, in that case, I really hate you," he said with bits of regurgitated pie still in his mouth.

"Yeah, I bet it must be exhausting to be so jealous of me all the time."

"Blah, blah, blah. What's for breakfast?" Kyle grumbled.

"You, sir, are in luck," I said, turning from him and heading toward the small kitchen. "I had some eggs stored here that I found a few days ago.”

"Found? Or took from farmer Johnson’s chicken coop, again?"

"C’mon, Kyle, you know he said we're allowed to help ourselves since we’re the ones who saved his chickens. It's not stealing."

"Saved his chickens? Dude . . . When have you ever seen a zombie eat a chicken? You lied to that dude for personal gain. That's stealing."

"You would have done the exact same thing if you were able to think that fast. Do you want any eggs or not, Mr. Morality?"

"Do I want eggs? Don't even ask. Just make them." Kyle said before I heard the toilet flush.

"A’ight. Give me a few minutes. You go ahead and freshen yourself up, madam," I teased from the kitchen. "I gotta tell you, it’s kind of weird that you have an appetite for eggs after you’ve been throwing up so violently."

"You know me, homie, and - I - ugh..." He stopped and I hear as he began to dry heave some more.

At least he’s getting it all out of his system
, I thought. This was just like all those times when we were still in the military together; hung over in the barracks. Luckily I wasn’t going to have to “field day” the bathroom. Those were the good old days.

"You must be hungry. Let me get started on these eggs."

***

We were eating breakfast, and then something odd happened. Our eyes met from across the table. For some reason neither one of us looked away. We just kept eating our breakfast; eyes locked. A moment or two passed this way.

"Dude, we're really weird," I said as I shook off the trance.

"Oh man, I think I fell asleep with my eyes open, while eating. What's up?"

"Nothing. Are you about finished?"

"Yeah. I devoured those eggs. Thanks for breakfast, Pete. Ready for the walk of shame?"

"Walk? I thought we might go for a little morning run. Sweat all this shit out. You'll end up feeling a lot better, trust me."

"Oh, sure. I trust you. But I'll be lucky if I don't kill myself just walking home," said Kyle with a groan, looking like he was about to return his eggs to his plate at the mere thought of physical exertion.

"Yeah, you may be on to something. You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's roll."

Watching Kyle walk sloppily to the door was just hilarious. I didn't even think he'd make it that far. He had to stop and lean on the couch for half a second before shoving himself away and onto the wall by the door.

"Forgetting something?" I called to him.

"Nope. I’ve got a to-go beer in my pocket." He pulled it out of his jacket to show me.

"I was thinking of something with a little more fire power." I nodded toward the room where his new rifle still remained.

"Right. I was just testing you, homie. Well done. Ah fuck. I just realized . . . now I'm going to have to carry two rifles and a beer back while totally hung-over."

"Yup, life's a bitch, now get your stuff and let's make like a baby and head out."

"Gross," he said with curled lips.

Kyle gathered up everything he would need for his stumble back. I even saw him have pull out his “to-go” beer before setting it down with a look of disappointment. I stuffed my pockets with ammunition and extra batteries for the flashlights. I had done this when I originally found the place, too, so now I had a nice little stockpile building up.

"Let's hit it," said Kyle without the slightest hint of joy in his voice.

We headed out the door, made sure there were no dangers waiting for us outside, and began to head back home.

"Are you going to be okay to work today?" I asked Kyle as he half fell through the door.

"If by ‘work’ you mean hanging out with you all day . . . I'll probably have to call in sick for the day, boss."

"Boss? Man, you must still be drunk. Let's get you home so you can sleep it off. Remember, we found these guns in the woods and ended up sleeping in a cabin. You got sick. No. Booze. Involved. Got it?"

"Got it."

***

We arrived at Kyle's place without any incidents other than Kyle falling a few times and getting his clothes a little bit dirtier; but who could really tell?

"Okay, buddy, you get inside and rest up. If you end up feeling any better, come find me—I could always use a buddy to help me screw around. And, if I need you for anything real, you're going to have to suck it up, alright?"

"Alright, man. I think a little bit of sleep will go a long way. I'll see you later. Have fun out there." He kicked off his shoes and fell onto the couch.

Kyle would be good to do his thing, so I left. Even though I was feeling a little bit shitty, I decided to go for a run, anyway. I must really hate myself.

I took off and decided to go through the woods to explore a bit, because, you know, that couldn't end poorly at all.
I can find my way around just fine,
said the cocky (biggest) part of my pea brain.

There was a little stream I found on my run I decided to follow and, after about a mile and a half, I began to feel like a total bag of shit; bent over, grabbing my knees, and sucking wind. I hadn’t mixed alcohol and exercise in quite some time, and now I was beginning to remember why.

That’s when I heard it.

It was the sound of shambling footsteps coming from up ahead. I stood rigid and tried my best to control my breathing—in through the nose and out through the mouth. I kept my rifle slung around my back, pulled my knife from my belt, and began to move toward the sound, bounding from cover to cover behind the thick trees.

It would seem as though I wasn’t exactly doing the best job of being stealthy, because the damn zombie saw me and let out a bellow.

I stopped the ninja act and walked at the thing as it did its best to pick up speed and come at me. The zombie’s attempt at speed was almost laughable. I could see the extreme desire in its eyes, and the feet moved faster, but in more choppy steps. It was going the same speed as it had been while shambling, but trying a whole lot harder.

I almost felt bad for the stupid thing, so I quickened my pace slightly until I was close enough to stab it right in the forehead. This was a poor decision on my behalf, as the blood from the wound exploded into my face on its way down the blade’s blood gutter. After the initial impact, no more blood trickled out. The thing fell over and accepted the death that had befallen it long ago.

Blood now covering my face, I looked over at the stream and decided that taking a quick bath couldn’t be a bad idea.

I got undressed, set my rifle on a rock next to my clothes, and jumped in. The water was much colder than I had been expecting. My muscles seized up, tremors running painfully through them. Maybe this was a bad idea. I'll just clean off real quickly and then head back to town.

*CRACK*

Oh shit. Not more zombies. It's too early in the morning to deal with any more of this bullshit. I stopped all movement aside from the fluttering of my feet to keep myself afloat, trying to be as silent as possible. The footsteps were coming closer to the creek. I saw a figure emerge from the trees.

It's a girl. Thank God. Nothing to worry about.

Wait. Damn it. I'm totally naked and swimming in freezing cold water. I made my way toward my clothes as quietly as possible. The very second I got out of the water, the girl looked over at me.
Fuck.

"Peter?" she shouted over toward the shadowy figure that streaked across the creek bed.

As I scrambled to grab my clothes, I looked over at her, now able to see her face.

"Evelyn? What are you doing out here?"

"I came out to do some laundry. I didn't know there'd be a free show, too," she smirked.

"Uh, sorry about that," I said, hastily sliding my pants on. "I didn't really know anyone came out here."

"I like to be able to get away sometimes and just be able to relax by myself. What about you?"

"I was just on a morning run that turned into a swim. And a show, apparently," I smirked back. "Was it at least a good show?"

"Not really, but that water must be pretty cold this time of year. What possessed you to get in there in the first place?"

I had to think of something manly that didn't give away our new secret stash. "I—uh—I thought I saw a cat in there." Nailed it.

"You thought you saw a cat going for a swim in that freezing water?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yup. It turned out to be a dead raccoon. So, no worries."
Yup. I'm completely retarded.
I ducked my head inside my shirt, wishing I could hide from my own stupidity.

"I see. Well, since you're here anyway, did you maybe want to co-" Her sentence was cut short by a scream off in the distance.

“What was that?" Evelyn asked, her voice full of fright.

"I don't know, but I think I had better go check it out."

"Can I come with you, Peter? Suddenly, I don't feel like being alone, anymore."

"I think that may be a good idea. Come on. Let's go see what's going on."

I grabbed my new rifle with one hand and her hand with the other, and then we took off toward the scream. In a few minutes we were at the scene.

"This is Kyle's house," I said in frustration as we stopped out front. "What the hell kind of trouble is he getting himself into, now?"

I let go of Evelyn’s hand and rushed to the door, throwing it open. "What's going on in here?" I demanded. I saw Kyle sitting before a chunky pool of multicolored vomit consisting of egg and pie that he must have had recently. I was just happy that all of the alcohol had already come out of him.

Across from Kyle stood Evelyn's mother, Carolina. They both looked at me, their eyes wide with surprise.

"Looks like you were enjoying some pie on your day off, eh, Kyle?" I said, teasing him.

"Yeah, man. This stomach bug is killing me," he said, looking pathetic in a clear attempt to get some sympathy from Evelyn.

"Why do you boys look like such shit today?" asked Evelyn, who had entered the house and looked around with caution in her expression.

"Evelyn!" cried her mother. "That's no way for a young lady to talk!"

I gave Evelyn a wide-eyed look, indicating that I thought her mom was a lunatic and always had been. Then I tossed in, "C’mom, Evelyn. I'm sure your mother raised you better than that."

"Shut that sarcastic hole of yours, Peter. You've got the worst mouth I've ever heard on a person!" scolded Carolina.

Kyle snickered at the sharp comment from her. The slight grin he couldn’t keep from his face betrayed the thought that this was a sign of his plan playing out the way he had intended.
Nice plan, bud.

"Thanks again for the pie, Mrs. K," said Kyle, still playing the part of an angel.

"Oh, you're so welcome, sweetheart. After all you do for this town, pie is the least I can do for you. Especially when you have to put up with this sorry excuse of a man over here all day long. Now, I gotta get back home. I hope you get better soon, sweetie." And with that, Carolina finally left Kyle's house.

"I think she's warming up to me," I said.

"I think that by simply meeting you I've gone down dramatically in her 'people I care for' book," replied Evelyn.

Kyle’s face reflected a thought that led me to believe he had some bad gas. "Hey, what are you guys doing together, anyway?" he asked.

"Well, it's hard to say, really. It all kind of happened pretty fast. The last thing I remember before the disruption here was Evelyn making a comment about how much she may or may not have enjoyed looking at my dong."

"He's right, but I don't think I would have worded it quite that way." She looked at me, blushing with embarrassment.