Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Zac Zombie 2: World of the Undead, Page 1

Eduard Joseph




  ZAC ZOMBIE

  Slayer of the undead

  Book 2: World of the dead

  By Eduard Joseph

  Published by Eduard Joseph

  Copyright 2014 Eduard Joseph

  Front cover design by Eduard Joseph

  Cover illustration: stock photo

 

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are

  not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. Any resemblance to any person or

  persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved

  The right of Eduard Joseph to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him under the South African Copyright Act of 1978 (as amended).

  Twitter: @TheEduardJoseph

  #ZacZombie

  Facebook: facebook.com/zaczombiebook

  To keep up to date with any upcoming books, you can follow the author on his official Facebook or Twitter accounts.

  IF YOU ENJOY ZOMBIE BOOKS, YOU MIGHT WANT TO TRY THE FOLLOWING BOOKS BY EDUARD JOSEPH:

  -Zac Zombie: Slayer of the undead (Book 1)

  - How to date a corpse

  -The Town*

  -Morgue of the living (Short story)

  OTHER FICTION BY EDUARD JOSEPH:

  -Freaks want love too

  - The Thirst

  -When there is blood on the moon (Short story)

  -Trick or treat (Short story)

  -Ultimatum (short story)

  -Welcome to the neighbourhood (Short story)

  -God’s gonna cut you down

  * Contains Biblical references which might upset sensitive readers

  1

  It’s only been a few hours since the gates of hell spewed out the unwanted dead upon our town, but it felt like an eternity. You could barely walk down the street without at least five of the walking corpses attacking you.

  All humanity was stripped from Kingston Valley. Everyone in town was a mere shell of the person they used to be; a shell that now craved human flesh. Mr Peters was no longer the quiet neighbour down the street with the perfect rose bushes, Mrs Cornwell was no longer the town gossip with the freshest stories and the mailman was no longer greeting everyone as he went on his merry way. No; everyone was a hungry, rotting corpse walking mindlessly up and down looking for their next victims.

  I could see from Michelle’s demeanour that she was still rattled about the undead and being thrown into a tree on two different occasions. Her hair were locks of filth, but she was still the most beautiful girl in the world – probably the only one left alive and I intended to keep it that way.

  We walked down Elm Street – yes, our town actually had a street called Elm – and all was quiet around us. The sun had set about an hour earlier, but the streetlamps were not switched on. Our only source of light came from the last few sunrays from behind the mountains on the horizon.

  I took a hold of Michelle’s hand and she instantly tightened her grip. Her palm was sweaty and her hand was trembling. She kept staring at the trees and undergrowth that lined the street, half expecting the devil to jump out at us.

  “We will be alright.” I said, breaking the silence.

  Michelle turned to me and smiled, though I could see she forced it. She turned her attention to the bushes next to the street again. I found myself also keeping a watchful eye on the trees and bushes around us; things were too quiet to my liking. It was the calm before the storm, but I had no idea when the storm would break.

  When we got to number 39, I recognized the beaten up car in the driveway as belonging to Bradley Cross. He was the town nut and always ranted and raved about the end of the world being near. I vividly remember him always stockpiling canned foods at the supermarket in case of an emergency. His house would make a good spot to spend the night.

  “We should spend the night here.” I said as we got to the front gate.

  Michelle stared at the house with scrutiny and I could tell she did not like the look of the house. Okay, I have to admit the house looked more like a military bunker than a house, but isn’t that what you want during World War Zombie?

  “I know it looks like a torture chamber, but it is our best option.” I said.

  Michelle sighed, looked at me and gave me an approving nod. She shifted her hand in mine, but never loosened her grip as I reached for the gate. The gate squeaked like cat being trampled as it opened and I stopped halfway listening for any looming trouble. When it was clear that nobody heard the noise, I cautiously pushed the gate open while trying to keep the squeaking down to a minimal. We walked up to the front door and when I turned the knob, the door opened. I have to admit that a chill ran down my spine at that moment. If the door was open it could mean many things, but the most worrying thing could be that the occupants were dead… and walking around in the house.

  “Zac…” Michelle whispered, “I don’t like the looks of this.”

  I knew I could not steer her into danger, nor could I leave her outside for the night. I took the axe that hung from my belt like a gun in a holster and gripped it with both hands.

  “Stay behind me.” I told Michelle.

  She quickly stepped behind me, grasped my upper arms and glanced over my shoulder at the open door. It was a nice feeling to be the hero for once. Who would have guessed that a nerd like me would keep a damsel in distress safe from the undead? This was cool… I was cool.

  I pressed the head of the axe against the door and pushed it open. The hallway was dark and lined with boxes. I could not make out what boxes they were or how many there were. I could not see anyone, nor hear any movements in the house.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  Perhaps it was not the best idea to call out into an empty house, the dead will not answer and say: Ah, yes! We are in the kitchen and will be right out to eat your brains.

  The house was quiet. I listened for any signs of life (or the lack thereof) and then stepped into the hallway with Michelle closely behind me. The floorboards creaked as I stepped on them, but it was the only sound in the house.

  “Is anybody alive in here?” I called out.

  Hang on! We said we’ll be right out to eat your flesh!

  Nothing. The house was quiet except for Michelle’s heavy breathing in my neck, which was kind of turning me on, but at the wrong time.

  I turned around to close the door and Michelle scuffled along as she clung to me like a barnacle. I closed the door, locked it and put the chain up. Now that I was certain nothing could come in, it was time to explore and make sure that there weren’t any dead inside. We walked down the hallway of creaking floorboards and entered the kitchen to the left. Though it was dark, I could see that it was deserted. Towards the other side of the kitchen was a door that led to something. I opened the door and found that it was a pantry – a pantry that was stock to the ceiling with canned food. It was a relief as it meant one less thing to worry about.

  We walked through to the living room which was deserted. The living room was simple and had one couch, no TV, a fireplace and an old record player. Bradley was clearly not a man for technology.

  Next we checked the bathroom and the two bedrooms which were all abandoned. By ascertaining that the house was safe I saw that Michelle was a bit more at ease. It had been a long day and we were both tired. We needed something to eat and then a nice comfy bed to sleep in – yes, I am a gentleman. I did not contemplate sleeping with her, but rather sleeping next to her.

  Michelle got us some food from the pantry while I tried to get a fire started in the living room fireplace. I had never made a fire before and it was not as easy as the
movies would like you to think it was, but I finally got the thing going. I stood back and admired my handy work for a moment and then noticed the framed photos on the mantelpiece. All the photos were of Bradley and his Husky. I loved and feared Huskies, because they were dogs, but had human eyes – those icy blue eyes that could pierce right into your soul.

  I walked over to the record player which stood on a small table beneath a window and noticed a whining sound coming from outside. I pulled back the curtain, stared out into the back garden and saw the Husky lying next to a man’s body with its head resting on the man’s back.

  I walked to the kitchen and glanced at Michelle as she opened some cans of food.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  I walked past her and opened the backdoor.

  “His dog is outside.” I said.

  “Do you think it is safe to go out there?” Michelle asked.

  I tried not to laugh at her and say I am Zac Zombie, Slayer of the undead. I do not fear anything and just smiled at her.

  “I’ll be fine.” I said.

  I stepped out into the backyard and walked over to the dog. It lifted its head as I approached, but kept whining. I looked down at the corpse at my feet and noticed that there was a gaping bullet wound in the back of the man’s head. The man was – or used to be Bradley Cross. I crouched down and patted the dog’s head and as if bonding immediately, the dog got up and started licking my hand. There was no way I could simply leave the poor dog out there. He was alive in a world of the dead.

  2

  The wood crackled in the flames of the fire which was our only source of light. Michelle and I sat on the couch and each had a plate of mixed beans for dinner, while the Husky (which I dubbed Fluffy because of his fur) ate his own plate of beans in front of the fireplace. We looked like the perfect little family having a cosy meal during a blackout. If only…

  “What do we do now?” Michelle asked.

  “We stay here tonight.” I said, “And tomorrow we start looking for survivors – and my mother.”

  Michelle nodded and ate another spoonful of beans. I hated mixed beans. I hated the taste, texture and smell, but it was at least food. We both might have gas later during the night, but who cares during apocalyptic times about gas?

  “How far do you think it has spread?” Michelle asked.

  She clearly wanted to bring up her mother and speculation of whether she was still alive.

  “I don’t know.” I said, “It could only be our town, or it could have spread further.”

  “I wish I had my phone so I can call her.” Michelle said, “I left it in my locker back at school.”

  Okay, there was no way we were heading back there and besides, I think the school might have burned down.

  “Your mother will be fine.” I said, trying to convince both of us.

  Michelle picked at her food as if it was a bowl of intestines. The mood in the room was heavy and morbid and I had to change it.

  “So…” I started nervously, “Prom is just around the corner…”

  Michelle snorted, but tried not to laugh.

  “I was wondering,” I said foolishly, “When all of this blows over, if you would go to the prom with me?”

  Michelle was still picking at her food, but she was trying to hide a blush with a smile.

  “Of course I will go with you.” Michelle said.

  It’s difficult to explain the weird feeling I got inside when she said that. It was a combination of excitement, nervousness and warmth that exploded from my heart throughout my body. I had to play it cool. She might not like me if I acted like an excited little child.

  I smiled at her and said, “Cool.”

  I took one last spoonful of the awful mixed beans and decided enough was enough. I placed the plate on the floor and Fluffy ate the rest of the beans. Michelle ate the last of her beans and placed her plate on the table which stood next to the couch. She glanced at me and smiled nervously. It was the first time we were alone together and were not fighting to stay alive.