The Last Day

The Last Day:

  Or why you don't let your woman down during the zombie apocalypse.

  by Joseph Sweet

  *****

  PUBLISHED BY

  Joseph P. Sweet and Forsaken Press

  Copyright © 2006-2013 Forsaken Press and Joseph P. Sweet. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, or internet posting without written permission from Forsaken Press, or the Author, except for review purposes, or that deemed fit by the author for promotion. All persons, places, and organizations mentioned herein, except those clearly in public domain, are fictitious. Any similarities to any persons, places, or organizations, living, dead, undead, or otherwise, is purely Coincidental.

  Forsaken Press

  https://www.forsakenpress.co.nr

  [email protected]

  This story is recommended for ages 18 and up.

  *****

  *

  Life over the past month and a half had been perfect. The trip to Florida after graduation had been near blissful. Panama City Beach may not quite be the spring break capitol anymore, but for summer vacation it had been a great time. Naomi and Max had gone to see the dolphins at Gulf World, ridden the roller coasters at Six Flags, been on the glass bottom boats, water-skied, scuba-dived, and ate just about everything which dwelled in the ocean that could be purchased at various seafood restaurants. And then, to top off a perfect vacation, they'd gotten married on the beach, overlooking the gulf.

  After all of that Naomi had not been looking forward to coming back home. Upstate New York had always held nothing more for her than boredom, misery and fear of eternal failure. And let's not forget the fear of forever being trapped there. She'd wanted to stay in Florida. Perhaps all of that was in her head, though. She had started a new life with Max. Maybe she should just let those things go and see how it went. She wanted so much to just believe that things were going to be fine. Didn't it look that way?

  Her cheeks blushed as she looked at Max and thought of how perfect he was. Her exact thought was a memory of him holding her on the bed in their suite in Panama City Beach, overlooking the Gulf of Mexico - post love making - and telling her that they would be together forever.

  He turned to her just in time to catch the color on her cheeks and the look on her face and asked her what she was thinking. He had been looking out at the city, if you could call it that. The City of Watertown sounded like one hell of a contradiction to her and it was a far cry from Panama City Beach. The sun was about ten or fifteen minutes from setting and he'd been off in his own little world.

  "Nothing." She lied. She couldn't verbalize what it was that she was thinking. She was too close to it. He was so perfect, so close to everything that she had ever wanted. He was her prince; her knight in shining armor.

  For so long she had dreamed that there would be someone in this God-forsaken place that would be hers. Someone who could make it all seem worth it. And here he was right in front of her. And he was real. It made her feel all giddy inside.

  She was about to just reach out and grab him, squeeze him and kiss him with all of her might just because she could when a scream rang out from somewhere behind her.

  Max jumped to his feet.

  Naomi turned quickly in the direction of his gaze.

  No more than five hundred yards from the hill where they'd made their picnic, both of their eyes were drawn to the rapid movement of a running dog, a big one; a Rottweiler, by the looks of it. Then their eyes were drawn to a woman, directly in the path of the running animal. As they watched on helplessly, the physically fit beauty jogged on, unaware, in a skin tight blue outfit that matched the baby carriage she was pushing along at a dizzying rate, - hips swinging to the beat of whatever music pumped through the headphones of the mp3 player she had strapped to her waist.

  The scream had come from an elderly woman a short distance away who also could see the dog's target. And there were more shouts now, though no one moved to get between the dog and the woman. Not even for the sake of the child. Naomi watched helplessly as the power-walking mom, moved on oblivious, while an elderly man just across the path shouted at her to get out of the way.

  She kept on pushing the stroller, hips swinging, eyes half closed, only half aware of her surroundings.

  Naomi could hear the vicious growling now. She could see how mangy the dog looked. She could see that it was foaming at the mouth. Most likely it was rabid or something. She took a step forward, but realized quickly that there was nothing she could do. Her hand went to her mouth in a helpless gesture to stifle a scream and tears poured from her eyes as she watched the dog leap through the air and take the woman down; probably just because she was the fastest moving thing in the immediate vicinity.

  Two fairly large men, walking different directions on a path which ran adjacent to the sidewalk for a short distance were stopped dead in their tracks as the woman screamed at the top of her lungs. The dog jerked back and forth and the woman went with it – body rag-dolled up and back. And then the carriage tipped and the baby came spilling out onto the pavement screaming bloody murder.

  Naomi wanted to scream out in horror. She wanted to scream in rage at the men and women who just stood by watching and doing nothing. Didn't they realize that the dog might go for the child next? Even if they cared nothing for the woman, surely they should be thinking of the child. And what of themselves: Did they think they were safe? But, then again, what was she doing?

  The woman wasn't screaming anymore, Naomi realized. The dog had stopped tearing at her. It turned its head and was looking at the screaming child now.

  Finally someone became involved.

  Of the ten or so people in the immediate vicinity, one man had the courage to do something, it seemed.

  One of the men, a rather well built individual in a black t-shirt and blue jeans, hesitated only briefly before running in and leaping on top of the large dog before it could get to the child.

  An old lady – the one whose screams had first drawn Naomi's attention – ran in and snatched up the screaming baby.

  Things seemed to be making a turn for the better. Naomi’s faith in human-kind was somewhat renewed as she witness this man risking his life for a baby and woman he very likely didn’t even know, and the group surrounding them was becoming involved.

  Two men from the nearby path ran in and tried to help in the struggle once it appeared that there might be a chance.

  Naomi suddenly felt a bit disappointed in Max for not trying to get involved, but she also felt ashamed of herself in the same instant. She didn't really want him to get involved either. She didn't want to lose him.

  A crowd was gathering around the three men now. They had succeeded in killing the dog, but the first man had been torn up quite badly and was lying on the ground.

  Naomi and Max began to head toward the crowd then. It was obvious that the trouble was over. The car was that way, anyway. It was time to go home. With the sun setting, the beauty of the day was about to give way to darkness and after what she had just witnessed, being in the park after sunset wasn’t something she was looking forward to.

  The crowd was starting to break up a bit when they closed in and some guy was shouting, "Let me through, I'm a nurse."

  There was a big enough opening for Naomi to see all of the blood then and she felt a bit queasy for just a second, and then she remembered all of the movies Max had made her watch. He was her Prince, but he definitely didn't share her taste for romantic comedy and drama. For a moment there, she was beginning to think she was in one of his wet dreams for Saturday night movie rental, though.

  She'd hoped that the woman was going to be alright, but it seemed obvious fr
om the look on the nurse's face that there wasn't a chance. His focus then shifted to the man.

  While his back was turned, however, the jogging mommy sat up.

  Half of her face hung down over her neck, of which there was no visible flesh. Her sweat shirt was torn open and where breasts would normally have been was only wet, red carnage. Naomi couldn't help but look. The jogger's left eye was hanging slightly out, while the other seemed to be working just fine. And it was looking around calmly as though sizing up the scenery, taking it all in.

  In shock, Naomi thought.

  And then that face filled with rage and her mouth opened and she leapt at the nurse. In a moment she was at his throat. He cried out a couple of times, but she was too strong somehow.

  Then the man in the black shirt - the one who'd attacked the dog - was standing up, staggering slightly, a mildly stoned look in his eyes. Naomi thought she knew what was coming next though.

  "No no no…" Max was mumbling from behind her. She knew how he felt in a way. It was like a nightmare. And things were spiraling horribly out of control far too quickly.

  From a short ways away a familiar, terrifying noise, began to echo out to them. It was an almost buzzing drone, sounding at first like bees, but becoming quickly identifiable as the moans of a large mob.

  "No… Oh shit." Max was cursing and this time he was further