Four (Their Dead Lives,1) Read online

  My cock has finally killed me. “Angie, wait.” He grabbed the bar above his head as they raced through another intersection. “Oh, shit!”

  “I thought you were a nice guy. Though clearly after everything tonight, you’re just an asshole. A misogynistic asshole who treats women like objects.” Her eyes were wide with hatred as she growled at him. “I’m not an object, Scot. And don’t you dare say you agree, because that means you’re not listening to me!”

  Misogynistic? I love women. Scot stuck out his hands and pleaded for her to wait, “Listen, I’ll explain,” but the night refused to slow down.

  Just outside the windows of the SUV, the world had sunk into a burning hell.

  A man in a bathrobe sprinted along the street, screaming at the top of his lungs. Blood stained his entire front. Grabbing at his stomach, he fought and failed to keep his balance. Falling to his knees, he let his insides go. Steaming organs plopped out. He was surrounded by bodies and silhouettes that Scot couldn’t make out, but he heard the man’s shrieks till the end. At that moment, death-by-Angela didn’t seem so bad. She wasn’t even aware of the mayhem outside as she continued her angry tirade.

  “And I do everything for you! I would do anything for you.” A brightly strained smile, a lunatic smile, crept across her face as she leaned to Scot, never breaking eye contact with him, never watching the road. “Don’t you know that, Scotty?”

  At the college party where they’d first met, Scot had seen Angela wearing a small skirt and a shirt cut just beneath her breasts, exposing her midriff. How he loved exposed midriffs. She had a bright green belly button ring, he remembered. They had locked eyes. How bubbly they’d been. They danced that night, neon lights flashing around them. Every time he tried to kiss her, she eloquently moved her face to the side. It wasn’t until a week after the party that Scot ran into Angela again. He forgot what he'd said to get her on a date. He—

  Christ, she let go of the steering wheel. The SUV rushed toward a red stoplight, an intersection mere yards away. Scot kicked his legs, stomping on an imaginary brake as she leaned in even closer. He shrieked, “Angela, stop!”

  “Kiss me!”

  The red light, the street lamps, the other cars on the road all blacked out at the same time. A bus, flames leaping from its windows, raced down a hill straight for the upcoming intersection. Scot lunged for the steering wheel as the SUV flew under the stoplight. Glass sliced across the front seat, ripping into Scot’s face. He tried to save them from flipping over, grabbing the wheel with one hand. The sound of screeching tires rang in his ears. The SUV lost control. Overpowered and weightless, his body was tossed around. Screeching tires stopped. Before shutting his eyes, he saw the ground flip over his head. Angela screamed hysterically at his side. The roof smashed in, but his seatbelt adeptly saved him from suffering a crushed skull.

  Scot opened his eyes. He had to. Sparks flew in every direction. We’re sliding upside down! Squealing metal was agony to his ears. Angela grabbed for his arm and he wanted so badly to touch her skin. My last human contact. He fought to breathe, his chest feeling like a bus had crushed it.

  Their SUV slammed to a sudden halt, crashing into a titanic tree. Swinging like rag dolls in their seats, Scot smashed his head, shards of glass cutting into his skin.

  Silence, what he’d desired moments before the chaos, finally fell. The world stilled for them briefly.

  On their third date, Scot had been quite nervous. Angela was the first girl he’d considered a serious relationship with since losing Kelsey. After all, how could he pass up being with a caring girl who would likely sacrifice anything for him? And what had he done in return? Slept with Angela’s roommate and a few others. He betrayed her loyalty, her trust, her kindness.

  I deserve to die here. His vision cloudy, his head heavy, and his legs numb, Scot fought to gauge the situation. Angela. She reached for him as a blistering crack ripped through the silence. The tree?

  Blood-drenched, impaled by broken glass, she struggled to reach him. “Scot, I’m sorry.” She battled to touch him.

  Another crack.

  Struggling to regain his composure, Scot grabbed his seat buckle, blood streaming down his head. He froze when he heard screams outside the window.

  Another crack.

  “Scot—”

  “Baby, hang on.” Scot tried to comfort her but had trouble hearing his own voice. Unbuckle, dammit.

  Another crack.

  He noticed a massive chunk of glass sticking out of his thigh. Blood had soaked through his jeans, the sight slowed him, made his stomach turn. Ignore it. Get out. Save her. Angela kept whimpering and although Scot responded, and although he heard everything else, his own voice was drowned out. He sensed her hand about to touch his wrist.

  Another crack.

  He finally looked at her. Her fingers trembled. Her eyes were wide with fear and pain. “Scot, I’m, I—”

  Hysterical now, Scot fought with his seatbelt like the thing was trying to kill him. Get us out! Get us out!

  Still upside down, still not hearing his own words, he stared at Angela’s moving mouth like he’d done so many times before. Only this time, he listened.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again. Her fingers came so close, all he had to do was reach.

  Another crack.

  Scot said her name, never actually hearing it cross his lips. I should’ve told her the truth. I never should’ve brought her here. I should’ve been a better boyfriend, no, a better human being, and let her go.

  Angela fought for him. “Baby, I love—”

  A final piercing snap coldly cut off her last words. The driver’s side caved in and she vanished. Her arm, amputated by the force, shot from her body, her gruesome hand smacking Scot in the face. Metal, glass, and flesh sprayed across the vehicle. He hung upside down, frozen, drenched in pieces of his girlfriend’s organs. Angela! Eyes wide with dread, a scream blasted from Scot’s mouth, and he was finally able to hear his own voice.

  KALE

  Were they ever real friends? Yes, they had to be. They—

  Howard’s rant cut through Kale’s thoughts. “Why am I cuffed? I wasn’t driving!” Bloodstains had crept under his greasy hair, and pressed against the patrol car’s guard, he stared at the cops in front of him.

  Deputy Miller, while focusing on the road as he drove, said, “Shouldn’t have tried to slap me.”

  “Can’t believe I missed.” Howard tucked his chin to his chest. Light fog rolled across his window.

  Leaning back in the front seat, Sheriff Ortiz settled into his favorite conversation topic: his cats. “So my fattest cat, Admiral Snuggles, he doesn’t like the newest one.”

  Miller’s voice was unenthused. “What’s the new cat’s name?”

  “Oh, she’s a beauty!” Ortiz reached in his pocket and handed a small picture to Miller. The patrol car was headed in the opposite direction that Scot, Jeff, and the others had taken. Kale caught a glimpse of the picture showing a small black cat with green eyes and a head far too big for its little body. “Meet C-Diddy. He’s a ninja.”

  Kale stared at Howard and mouthed, “What the hell is with these guys?” He knew Deputy Miller back in high school. He’d been a weird kid. “I’m a little shocked you’re a man of the law now, Jimmy,” he drawled from the back seat.

  Miller glanced back at Kale, his eyes narrowed. “Why’s that?”

  “Oh, there’s too many reasons.”

  Miller groaned. “Keep quiet, Kale. You’re not helping yourself.”

  “I remember in middle school you were willing to do anything if we flowed you some cash.”

  “I’m not that guy anymore, Kale.” Miller clearly didn’t want to take a walk down memory lane. This delighted Kale.

  “Yeah, yeah, get this.” Kale nudged Howard with his shoulder, his wrists cuffed behind his back. “One time we gave him ten dollars, just ten dollars, to walk in this old person’s home. Naked. Fully erect. Though, hm, if I recall, he could only go half-m
ast.”

  A drunken giggle bounced from Howard’s mouth, but his lips immediately clenched back together, holding back a spill of vomit.

  “Shut up, Kale!” Miller’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, already fuming.

  Even Sheriff Ortiz let out a chuckle.

  “Oh, man, Jimmy Miller! You were one sick mofo! I remember this one time—”

  Miller spun around, driving blind. “I’m a respectable man of the law! You watch your mouth!”

  “Look out, Jimmy!” Ortiz grabbed for the steering wheel. Too late.

  Miller slammed the brakes but the patrol car smashed into a person crossing the street. The body crunched against the windshield. The patrol car swerved around, burning rubber, doing a 180-degree turn. It came to a snapping halt, still on the road.

  Miller and Ortiz gasped, staring at one another. Bloody bits of flesh crept down the cracked windshield. On the road, a body lay sprawled out across cement.

  “Some driving, Jimmy,” Kale grinned and shook his head.

  Howard said, “S.M.H.”

  I oughta slap him.

  “You two shut up,” Ortiz snapped this time. “Stay with them, Jimmy.”

  Miller smacked the steering wheel angrily as the Sheriff left the car to investigate. “See what you did?”

  Kale shrugged, “Meh.”

  Outside, Ortiz approached the still body. He signaled for Miller to turn the high beams on. The lights revealed a mangled corpse wearing tattered clothes. It was ripped open, its skin peeled away to show its glistening muscles. What skin remained had the appearance of moldy bread. What the hell?

  Kale watched in excited anticipation. “You were right, Howard. This has all the makings of a horror movie.”

  “Ten bucks says the thing bites his face off,” Howard said, eagerly smacking his lips.

  “Both of you, shut up,” Miller groaned, his hands tightened around the steering wheel. He hunched over so far his chin brushed the steering wheel and his legs jittered anxiously up and down. He’s totally freaking right now. Delicious.

  Outside, Ortiz stood over the seemingly lifeless body. He grabbed his mouth, gagging and averting his face. He gave the thumbs down sign to the patrol car. Then, it came. A moan, long and low, crawled out of the dead man. Ortiz tiptoed back toward the body, taking his hand away from his mouth and leaning closer to look again. “Sir?”

  This can’t be happening. Is this happening?

  Another moan sounded, and this time, the body pressed a frail, broken arm against the cement. It turned its head and its moans grew louder. Its skin stuck to the ground, exposing its cheekbones. It stared right at Ortiz, one eye dangling loosely from its socket.

  Zombie! Holy shit, zombie! Zombie!

  “My God...” Ortiz stumbled back in shock, fumbling at his holster.

  Run, you fool!

  “What the hell is he?” Miller squinted at the body slowly rising from the asphalt.

  “That’s no he. Your Sheriff better shoot that motherfucking thing!” Howard shrieked and bumped his head against the guard. He’s right. So was Jeff, it seems.

  “For the last time, shut the fuck up!” Miller smacked the steering wheel over and over. Kale lost count.

  Ortiz backed his way toward the patrol car, gun finally readied with shaky hands. The body rose fully erect and flopped forward a couple steps, its one eye locked on the Sheriff. “Stay there and I’ll get help. Okay, sir?’

  He’s gonna die!

  The body lunged, nearly toppling over. A bone cracked in its leg. “Screw this!” Ortiz yelled, lowered his gun, and raced for the patrol car. He plopped in, slamming the door shut and stared at his deputy.

  Howard hopped on the back seat. “Shoot it! Get out and shoot it in the head!”

  “What the hell is it?” Miller put the car in reverse.

  Howard groaned. “You imbecile. It’s a goddamn zombie!”

  “Will you shut up!” Miller screamed and swung the car around. Kale hit his head as the car spun.

  “Let’s go back and warn those kids at Brian’s bar,” Ortiz ordered.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You should have killed it,” Howard said.

  “For the love of all that is holy, please shut your mouth.” Deputy Miller floored the patrol car, speeding back to the bar. “Otherwise, I’ll turn this around and leave your friends clueless.”

  “They aren’t my friends,” Howard retorted.

  “I appreciate this, Jimmy. I really do.” Kale pressed his head against the guard. Jeff. Homer. I should’ve never doubted you. I should have never doubted any of this. We are meant to be the saviors of this world. I know it.

  “Yeah, well you all better hope I get home in time to make sure Admiral Snuggles and C-Diddy are okay.” Sheriff Ortiz had his pistol out in one hand and the glossy picture of his cats in his other.

  They raced along the street for several minutes.

  A rush of excitement flushed through Kale, some nerves too, but he ignored any tinglings of anxiety. He knew this was it. Everything in their past had led to this night. Back in high school, a purpose had been created. All he had to do? Reunite his friends. Again.

  Sheriff Ortiz glanced at his deputy as they closed in on the bar. “No news from Deputies Tyler and Greene?”

  “Nothing.” Miller kept his eyes on the road but then abruptly slammed on the brakes. The bar was clearly in sight but outside the bar stumbled several undead corpses. They ravenously searched for a way in, a way to devour Kale’s friends.

  “Well, back to the station, boss?” Miller raised his orange brows at Ortiz.

  “We can’t leave them in there.”

  “What do we do?”

  “In all the time you’ve known me, Jimmy, what makes you think I know what the hell to do right now?”

  Miller grimaced and shrugged.

  Howard, mimicking Christian Bale’s voice from The Dark Knight, said, “I’ll tell you what we do.”

  All eyes landed on him.

  ALEC

  Vomit hurled from his throat and into a toilet. He rested his face on the cool porcelain bowl, too drunk to care about cleanliness. Nicole, crouching next to him, cringed as she rubbed his back soothingly. “Let it all go.”

  Let it go. I must let it go. The past. The vomit. Everything. “You’re the best,” he slurred, his eyes closed. He wiped at his lips. “I wish my friends stayed longer. I wish things were diff—oh no!”

  Nicole wiped away the chunks covering his mouth with a tissue once he finished. She stroked his head, running her fingers over his short hair.

  “Babe, do me a favor?”

  Nicole said, “Sure.”

  “Check on Brian for me. He’s a mess.”

  “Okay. Call for me if you need anything.” She hiccupped on her way out of the bathroom. Nicole was pretty good about handling her vodka, and Alec wondered a bit resentfully if she was even drunk. He stayed sprawled over the toilet for a few minutes after she left. Nothing more would come out so he eased off the bowl, wobbling back, his legs sore from lying on hard tiles. Cold water from the sink felt life-saving on his face. I’m never drinking again. With a clean finish, he lurched at the door, moving pretty quietly for a drunken stumbler.

  Pressed against a wall of the hallway, he sidled out toward the main area of the bar. A cold breeze crawled behind him. Must have left the back door open. He ignored it and, pausing in the hall, he heard Nicole, Brian and the waitress, Erica.

  “I almost lost everything today,” Brian sighed.

  “You’ll be fine.” Nicole touched his back and Alec saw jealousy spark in Erica’s eyes. Not sure what Brian was thinking when he cheated on his girl. Some guys can’t control their weenies.

  Brian rubbed at the bags under his eyes. “How’s Alec doing?’

  “He’s thrown up the last of it, I think. How are you?” Nicole pulled the stool closer to him, resting one hand on his arm.

  Brian absently rubbed a finger along the rim of the tequila b
ottle, never bringing it to his lips. “This place is sinking and it’s drowning me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Financially, I’m done. I have to close it down.”

  Nicole reached over and touched Brian’s wrist. A sister’s touch. Nothing sexual. I’m surprised they don’t see me standing here. A chocolate shake sounds good. His mind wandered. Brian placed a hand on top of Nicole’s. Both of them were thoroughly punished by icy cold stares from Erica. Erica was about to speak, about to voice her jealousy—

  The entrance to the bar swung open. They all turned in their stools, no one noticing Alec in the hall. Another person? How many people are coming tonight?

  A tall man wearing a leather jacket stood in the doorway. His hair was slicked back and he looked like he’d stepped out of the 1950s. Erica’s boyfriend: Tommy. Alec had met him once or twice. Not a fun guy to be around.

  “Tommy!” Erica hopped off the stool. “Where have you been?” She froze when she got a good look at him.

  Tommy stepped into the light, revealing a bleeding cut slashing across his face.

  Erica grabbed him anxiously. “What happened?”

  Brian and Nicole stepped off their stools.

  Tommy heaved, strands of dark hair falling over his forehead. He threw them back with a quick head swing. He stared at Erica, then Nicole, and finally Brian. He too didn’t notice Alec. A cold whisper choked from his lips: “They’re coming.”

  They?

  “Who?” Brian went to his office.

  Tommy shook his head, confused. “Can-cannibals. I don’t know. It was dark. They attacked us at a gas station. They killed everyone. I barely escaped.”

  Brian returned, his shotgun in one hand, a box of shells in the other. A determined badass. “How many?”

  “A dozen or so. It all happened so fast.”

  “Let me get this straight. You were at the gas station and attacked by, uh, cannibals?”

  “I don’t know what they are. They ate two of my buddies and attacked the attendant. I think the survivors barricaded themselves inside the food mart. These things are strong. I had to run.”