K. T. Swartz Page 16

  Cherise and Liz cut the power, looked up as they lifted the hoses over their heads. They waved: done. The blowtorch’s flames went out as one by one May, Rob, and Arti finished welding the boxcar’s edges together. May nodded at Michael: done. He looked up at Tommy, who gave them a thumbs-up: done. The train station Zombie Bowl was complete. And right on schedule. Now they could start on the jail Zombie Bowl and hopefully have it down by the time Spring rolled around. The temperature was already climbing slowly, the snow melting. Just the other day, he’d seen tiny flowers poke their heads from the frozen earth. And the zombies were starting to defrost. Michael smiled.

  Spring silently encouraged their efforts to reclaim Danville. Marleen brought in the first Daffodils she’d found outside and set them in a glass of water on the kitchen table. The simple yellow flowers brightened up the space, as if they’d turned on a light. With a generator now hooked up to the B&B, they could. But he and Marleen simply held each other in the dark kitchen and enjoyed the flowers. Even the humming refrigerator couldn’t kill the mood.

  “What are you thinking about, hon?” Marleen murmured in his ear.

  “Nothing but how good you feel against me,” he replied, smiling.

  “Me too,” she said. “I’m just happy we survived another year. Has May hung the replacement blood bags yet?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  Marleen laughed. “I think she’s in a hurry for us to leave.”

  He grinned. “She’s finally gotten used to us being around. I actually saw her smile at Rob the other day.”

  “Wow,” Marleen said. “He’s finally become a productive member of our little society.”

  They stopped talking as the swinging kitchen door opened. Rob walked in, smiled, and nodded at them. He grabbed a bag of chips from a cabinet before disappearing. Michael had to hide his amazement at the smile.

  “I think Rae may be the reason for that,” Marleen commented, noticing his surprise.

  “Really? Why?”

  Marleen lifted an eyebrow.

  “Ah,” he said. “Gotcha.”

  Marleen leaned her head against his shoulder. “So, what are we going to do after this?”

  “Hmm, well, I thought I’d take you upstairs and–”

  She laughed. “No, I mean here. If this Zombie Bowl actually works, are we going to stay or move on? I thought you wanted to go to Canada.”

  Michael exhaled deeply. “I did when we first got here. I had thought about taking her notebooks and spreading the word around of what she’s done, but we have everything we need here.”

  “I think we should,” she said. “We can’t let this idea of safety keep us from helping others. They need what we know. We have to help them.”

  “But you and Max are safe here,” he said. “To put both of you out in this world again… it’s just…”

  “I know,” she murmured, her fingers warm on his cheek. “But we have to.”

  Tommy pushed open the kitchen door. “Hey, sorry to eavesdrop, but me and Cherise already talked about that. We’re leaving Danville after we clean the town out. People gotta know. We’re hoping you’ll come with us.”

  Michael met his wife’s gaze. Nodded. “All right, we’ll go. We should probably talk to everybody else; see what they want to do.”

  “May’s back, by the way,” Tommy said. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

  They found her and Tony standing in the sitting room. Arti and Liz were already there, with Rob and Rae on the couch, but it was Tony who caught his attention. The nervous kid with shaky hands was grinning from ear to ear as he described their trip to replace the blood bags and hose the zombies down with gasoline. Over the past few months, Tony had changed in slight ways, losing his anxiety along the way. The changes were good to see, as he gained confidence and found his place among the group. Maybe now he could be happy with himself.

  “The bags are hung,” May said. “I’d give it a couple more days and the train station Bowl should be full.”

  Michael nodded. “Good. There’s, uh, something we all need to talk about, so if everybody has a few minutes.”

  The room got quiet. Bodies shuffled. The couch squeaked.

  “I know our stay here was a bit longer than expected, but I think we can all agree that it was worth it.” He cleared his throat. “What I want to talk to you about is what’s happening after Danville is cleared out. Tommy and Cherise have decided they’re leaving, because they feel others need to know how to survive, like we have. Marleen and I are going with them. Now, I’d like to see everyone come with us, but I want to give you all a chance to decide what you want to do beforehand.”

  Arti smiled. “We already know. We talked it over with May, and we’re staying.”

  “So am I,” Tony said. “Staying, I mean.”

  Michael looked at May. “You’re ok with this?”

  She nodded. “Once Danville is clear, I’m moving on to bigger towns. I can use the help.”

  Michael looked to Rob and Rae. “What about you two?”

  “We’re not staying,” Rob said. Rae nodded.

  “All right, I guess that’s settled,” Michael said. “That was faster than expected, so I guess we have a week to kill. Any ideas?”

  May smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to kill some zombies.”

  Danville became a ghost town, empty of the shambling dead. It was an eerie feeling, one Michael wasn’t used to, and it kept him on edge. He sat on the roof outside his and Marleen’s bedroom. His gun sat – unused – beside him; May’s last notebook was stretched across his knees. Through the window, he heard a door slam and thundering feet run across the floor. He half-turned but barely paid it any attention. He flipped the book’s page.

  Marleen burst through the door. “Honey, May says the train station Bowl is full! It’s ready. We’re all going to watch. You coming?”

  He slapped the book closed and grabbed his gun. Agitation had him rushing, and he flailed his arms when he almost lost his balance. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was conscious of a dam breaking, as if all his pent-up nerves just exploded. This was what he was waiting for, and hearing his wife’s words finally brought some measure of relief.

  “Let’s go,” he said. They were the last to get ready, but one was missing among their number. “Where’s May?”

  “Watching the Bowl,” Tony said. “She said she’s waiting for us to catch up. We checked both of them this morning and sprayed them down with gasoline. The jail can wait a little bit, but the station is busting at the seams.”

  Michael zipped up his coat all the way. Marleen held Max’s hand tight as they headed outside. Green grass replaced snow and now clearly showed the homemade mines he’d helped replace.

  Tommy led their troop down the sidewalk, while he took the rear. Marleen and Max were in front of him, where he could keep them safe, but the street was empty, just like the town. He knew that but still couldn’t keep his hand from his gun. Tony pointed out where May was, up a tree, waiting. She climbed down to join them. “Did you bring it?”

  Arti grinned, presented her with the coup de grace. “One Molotov cocktail ready for use. I have the lighter too.”

  May barely glanced at it. “Stay here while I scout it out again.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Michael said.

  “No,” May snapped. “Nobody comes with me. You stay here until I tell you it’s safe.”

  “Now hold on,” Rob argued.

  May turned on him. “Don’t argue with me,” she retorted. “I know what I’m doing. You don’t. Stay out of my way.”

  Tommy moved to intercept her, but Michael caught his arm. He met May’s dark gaze before she headed for the overpass.

  “What the hell was that about?” Tommy muttered.

  “Her husband was killed because of the Zombie Bowl,” Marleen said quietly. “I… think I would be a little nervous bringing my friends to one too.”

  Michael watched May’s retreating back. She
was cautious, slow to move, with her eyes darting constantly around her. She leaned over the edge, then started back toward them. Rigid posture and hard-set eyes only added proof to Marleen’s words. May probably didn’t want them here at all.

  “Let’s do this,” she said. Without a word they followed. The warm Spring air carried a sound unlike anything he’d ever head to his ears. So many voices crashed together, colliding and ricocheting off concrete and metal until the vibrations traveled through his boots, made his bones hum. The roar of so many starving moans rattled his eardrums.

  Max covered his ears. Marleen hesitated, then quickly snatched up their son. Liz and Arti walked closer together, with barely an inch between them. Their fingers laced tightly together. Cherise slowed, dragging her boyfriend back with her as the sound rolled over the bridge. Marleen glanced back at him, and he had the sudden strong desire to drag them all the way back to the B&B. Rae had the same expression on her face, her eyebrows pinched together, her knuckles white; Rob probably couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. Only May stood by herself, staring down, as they all leaned over the railing.

  Michael had seen a lot since the Out-Break’s beginning, but the swarming mass of undead far below made him sick. Hundreds of zombies reached for the blood bag, unable to do anything but succumb to the hunger. They were blind to all else, let it consume them. They pushed and shoved against the metal walls, against each other, but got no closer. They would stay there for eternity, vainly seeking their meal until their bodies dried up and the Bubonic Plague devoured them. But this was it, the reason they’d spent four months in Danville, the reason they’d let May teach them how to survive alone against thousands.

  May looked at them. “It’s now or never.”

  Arti held the Molotov cocktail out to her.

  “Wait,” Rae shouted. “Shouldn’t we say a few words? I mean, if this is your hometown, you might have family down there, right?”

  May didn’t say anything; she only looked away. Michael stared as realization hit him. She already thought of that. Her husband, her parents, and parents-in-laws, a brother lost in Chicago, and now this. The Out-Break had cost this young woman so much and tried so hard to break her down. Yet she kept fighting, because there was nothing left for her to do.

  Tommy took the Molotov cocktail from Arti. “I think I got the words May’s lookin’ for.”

  The large man held out his hand for the lighter, and Arti handed it to him. He nodded to May. Together, they took a moment to look over the concrete rail, to the hundreds of zombies tightly packed within the zombie bowl. They were hungry and desperate, as they reached for the blood bag still steadily dripping blood so high out of reach.

  Tommy touched the tiny flame to the soaked rag. Watched the flames blacken the ends. He grinned and saluted May. “Here’s to a world without these bastards, compliments of our one and only doctor of the dead. Time to send these fuckers to hell.”

  And he let the Molotov cocktail fall.

  The End

  I can say with absolute certainty that the only reason I’m alive is because of Dr. Z. I can call Danville my home, because of May Morris-Reid, Michael and Marleen Torvo, and Tommy and Cherise King. May let them take her notebooks to Canada, where they met survivors, where they taught these survivors how to truly live. As they gathered these hopeless people together, they spread the stories of a twenty-something woman who defied odds.

  Her record of almost one hundred thousand kills in her lifetime has been surpassed a dozen times over since then, but her legacy has not. As the years passed, major cities were reclaimed. Small settlements sprang up along the Eastern seaboard as the march of reclamation moved steadily west. California is recorded as having the last battle with the undead in San José, and all reports suggest the United States of America is no longer infested. I’ve heard that ships are crossing the sea for Europe and Africa, to clean them out. That these continents are still infested seems so foreign to me, because I’ve never seen a zombie before. I’ve only heard stories. I’ve only seen recorded footage on old cell phones and security cameras.

  Dr. Z’s contributions were recognized by the government sixteen years ago, who gave her the title ‘Dr. Z’. I heard the ceremony was beautiful in Washington D.C, a ceremony she didn’t bother showing up for. She had better things to do, like show me how to make ammonia bombs in her kitchen. It’s because of her that I have the life I do, one I share with my husband and my cat. I’ve learned so much from speaking with her and the disciples who learned from her. And what I’ve learned I have presented to you, because, like I said, should this ever happen again, I want you to survive too.

  ~ KT Swartz

  1 Anhidrosis is the inability to sweat in response to heat.

  Table of Contents

  Zombie Bowl

  Author’s Notes:

  The Out-Break

  Preparation: Danville, KY

  Safety:

  Supplies:

  Home:

  The Library:

  The Survivors

  Danville:

  Refuge:

  The Zombie Bowl:

  The End