Living Death - Zombie Apocalypse - David Musser

Living Death - Zombie Apocalypse by David Musser

Book excerpt

Road Trip

I have always had a special passion for road trips. Pam and I took several short jaunts before life happened, but our dream had been this cross-country trip, and while I wasn’t traveling with her now, I felt that she was near.

Jenny turned off my television and frowned, “What kind of person does not have a working television?”

“I’m sorry, I’ve always been more of a reader.”

She turned and put her hands behind her back like some boss watching her workers, “Alright, everything packed? Thank you for the extra clothes. We can stop for more on the road.”

She leaned back and did an exaggerated stretch mimicking one I had done earlier.

I like road trips, but it had been a long time, and I wanted to get the kinks out of my back before we left.

“I’m ready, do you have your pacifier?” I asked, wanting to throw the age thing back at her.

“You have one for me, don’t you?” she shot back at lightning speed. That stopped me. I didn’t know what to say. She turned and sat down on the bed beside the suitcase, moving up and down a few times, smiling and added, “Springs look like they would work.”

“You win. Let’s go. We can talk on the road and decide if we’re getting one room or two.”

It was still warm outside, so we headed for the interstate. The map app on my phone said it was a thirty-nine-hour drive. We had all the time in the world. There was one of those emergency broadcasts alerts on the radio that they ran if there was extreme weather on the way. I quickly turned it off. I didn’t want it blow our eardrums.

“Those alerts are too damned loud!” I cursed.

We took the 81 south until just after Johnson City.

“Have you been out west before?” I asked, as we drove with the wind blowing her hair back. She used my phone to play some tunes, loud, and she’d found an old pair of mirrored sunglasses of mine and was wearing them now. If this wasn’t paradise, I’m not sure what was.

“No, I’ve never been out of the state. Well, maybe when I was little, but after my father died, I had to stay home and take care of my mom. She passed a few years later and I have been on my own since,” she said, as she took off her shoes and put her bare feet on the dash.

You know that’s dangerous, I thought, but I didn’t want to get the old man treatment, so I stayed silent.

My phone was pulling double duty. We were using the map app and playing music. She took some time to create a special on-the-road playlist. Before we’d left, she had stomped on her phone and thrown it in the trash.

Seeing that, I had a feeling ours was going to be a wonderful relationship. She was beautiful sitting there feet up, and I could just imagine her taking her top off when it got dark.

“You like looking, don’t you?” she said, playfully bringing me back to reality.

I ignored this and turned up the music. Turned out she was a classic rock fan. Or she put it on especially for me. We listened to ‘I Wanna Rock’ by Twisted Sister. Both of us sang along as loud as we could. Neither one of was especially in tune, but we were having fun.

We drove down to Marion. We exited the interstate and got on Route 11, a secondary road. It was a comfortable drive with the heat on and the top up as it got dark, comfortable for her. But I needed to stop. I was good for about five hours on the road before I needed a break.

We found a small gas station, with a diner attached. She went to pay for the gas while I pumped.

“I got this one, Nick. You get the next tank. I need to go in and pay with cash so just put thirty in,” she said, pulling her shoes over her bare feet, and re-tying her top. She had given me a nice show and if I had to die, this was definitely the way to go.

I tipped my virtual hat at her and watched her go inside. I had to laugh. It had been over four hours and I had not thought about the damned doctor once.

The pump made a noise, so I started pumping. When I’d finished I pull up to the front. Before I went inside, I saw a little bit of blood, and maybe hair on the ground. The hair was short, and since it was hunting season, I didn’t pay much attention. This could have been a check-in station, for all I knew.

There was no-one behind the register, and at first, I couldn’t see Jenny. Looking around the checkout, I grabbed a bag of candy and a diet soda and put them on the counter. Thinking about the drive ahead, I grabbed another one of each. With this combination of chocolate and diet soda, I could go on the road forever.

I heard something, a little choking sound, turned and noticed the top of Jenny’s head above one of the aisle dividers. I hadn’t seen her before because of all the chips on the top, but there she was looking down and not moving.

While I’m not the most observant person in the world, really, I was just trying to get something to drink and be ready to hit the road again. It didn’t take me long to notice that something was wrong.

I had my hand in my pocket, clutching Todd’s knife. Rounding the aisle, the first thing I saw was blood, lots of blood. There was a body slumped at Jenny’s feet. Laying face up on the ground. Blood and gore on the bags of chips all around it. Shotgun blast to the chest and face, I guessed.

I put my hand on her shoulder. She turned and wrapped her arms around me, shaking.

“It’s okay kid, I’ve got you.”

She stiffened at that. I knew that endearments and other expressions changed from one generation to the next. What was once fine, was now no longer politically correct. Perhaps that’s why I said it. I did mean it in a bad way. I didn’t have long for this earth and I enjoyed her being in my life.

I turned her so that I was holding her with one arm and looked down. Since I hadn’t heard any gunshots and Jenny wasn’t carrying, I knew she hadn’t done the deed. I started looking around when she said, “No, look at the body.”

“What?” I asked, following her eyes down. The corpse’s legs and arms were moving.

“What the fuck?” I said and she giggled. I wondered if she was in shock when she laughed out through her giggles, just catching her breath enough to say, “That’s what I said. Jinx.”

I’d heard that expression before. I smiled at her the same way I’d smiled at others when I didn’t understand the language.

Pulling her back behind me I moved forward, and she grabbed me by my belt, “Please, no!”

“I have to check and see how this person can still be alive. I can’t see how they can be alive, but if we can help, we should.”

Maybe put them out of their misery.