Zombie Wasteland

Prologue

The world was a desert wasteland. A golden tumbleweed drifted lazily by, bouncing slowly in the dry breeze. Brushing a calloused hand through her long multi-colored hair, Valerie sighed. There was nothing in the world, nothing left to live for. Everything and everyone was dead.

The dry ground cracked beneath her dusty silver slippers as she walked closer to the crosses bearing the names of those she loved. Looking at her hands she was reminded who made those crosses, who struggled to dig those graves. The names stared at her, accusing her of abandoning the people laying only inches below in the dry, desert dirt.

Kneeling down she felt tears sting her face, but the hot desert breeze quickly and eagerly dried them. The sun was high in the sky and she was sweating in her Rolling Stones T-shirt and dusty blue jeans. The dark grey shirt stuck to her skin and she wished there was a lake, or river, or even a bathtub with running water near.

Valerie hugged herself; wrapping her arms around her body, feeling a sudden chill snake its way up her spine and into her soul. Loneliness had settled in her bones like cancer, and nothing she did would get rid of it.

How it had come to this? How she had been left? She was one of only a few survivors in a desolate world. How had everyone else died? She couldn’t remember.

A sudden pain shot through her abdomen and she screamed. Clasping her stomach she felt something slick and looked at her hands. They were covered in blood, her blood. Another bolt of pain punched her and she screamed. All of the sudden there were sounds, words, and lights around her, she realized she was in a room, lying on a bed, her stomach was exploding.

Valerie, Dr. Harvey Blackwater shouted at her, you need to push. The baby is coming.

Confused, Valerie looked around her. Where had Dr. Blackwater, no… he wanted to be called Harvey, come from? Where was she? What was he talking about? What baby?

Then it hit her, she was pregnant. Davis was the father but he would never meet his child because he had shot and killed the father of her child. She had murdered him. Now the baby was coming, it was three weeks early, she was bleeding, and didn’t know what to do.

The pain was unbearable and she screamed again. The sound echoed off the walls of the room she was in, bouncing back into her own ears, deafening her. She wanted Davis, wanted him to be holding her hand as she pushed their child out. She wanted him to cut the umbilical cord like every other father in the world. His face should be smiling down at her while he held their child.

Val, hold my hand, someone said softly in her ear. Turning in the direction of the voice she looked into the eyes of a young boy who had become a young man. Zombies had seen to it that Darius had grown up before his time. Though she didn’t really hadn’t known him as a little boy, she learned to love him as he faced zombies along her side.

Darius slipped a hand into hers and she squeezed tightly as more pain wrapped around her abdomen. This wasn’t normal, it couldn’t be. There was so much blood. Where was all of the blood coming from?

My baby, Valerie whispered, voice crackling. She was parched, she was tired and she was dying.

It’s coming, Darius said, Harvey is taking care of it, don’t worry. Remember he’s a doctor, he can handle anything. Darius smiled at her but she could see the worry and fear in his eyes. His smile didn’t comfort her, she knew the truth.

Valerie was too young to be having a baby. Hell, she was too young to be dying, but these days ten-year-olds became zombies and toddlers tried to murder you by biting off your face.

Valerie didn’t remember leaving the hospital. Everything after shooting Davis was a blur of darkness, death, and destruction. Unsure how they had gotten out, she had realized no one besides Dimitri had lost a life. If their child was a boy she would name him Dimitri, after his father.

For months after leaving the hospital they walked, walked so far and for so long. Valerie wasn’t sure where they were anymore. They had stayed out of big towns, trying to avoid hordes of zombies. They also stayed away from hospitals since hospitals had been the destination of the sick and infected. After leaving the hospital in Allentown they tried another in another small town with a forgettable name, but it too had been a disaster area. No one was willing to take another chance for a few antibiotics and aspirin.

Bethany was happy to be with them, pleased to be with her brother, but she refused to talk about her time with Marcus, Maxine and Rebecca. This concerned both Valerie and Harvey, but they didn’t push it. After realizing she had missed two periods, Harvey made sure they picked up a few pregnancy tests from the next store they could find.

After learning she was pregnant Valerie went into shock and cried for a month straight. She was a failure, had already failed at so many things and for so many people. She killed Dimitri Davis, she killed the father of her baby, she couldn’t save her best friend, Charlie, when he needed her, and now she was supposed to take care of a baby. She was irresponsible, she knew that, and she was scared.

Push, Harvey said, Valerie, you have to push.

So she pushed, and felt like she was pushing all of her strength out.

Something was being pulled from her body, but she didn’t hear any screams or cries.

It’s a girl, Valerie, Harvey said as he pulled the baby from her body.

As Valerie smiled more pain punched her in the stomach.

Sweat covered her body, she felt lightheaded. Every part of her body ached.

Her name is Annabelle. Call her Annabelle Tiffany Davis, Valerie whispered. Only Darius heard her.

Closing her eyes Valerie listened, waiting to hear the screams of her daughter. Hoping to hear the screams of her daughter, then finally there they were. The cries of a healthy baby pounded her ears, her head felt like it would explode. Turning, she saw Harvey hold up her daughters pale pink body. When she smiled at her baby and she was positive her baby smiled back.

A deep gasp rattled it her chest. One last gush of blood poured from the open cavity which had just given life. Valerie felt all of her pain disappear.

Valerie died.

I am the Living One;

I was dead, and now look,

I am alive for ever and ever!

And I hold the keys of death and Hades.

Revelation 1:18

Chapter One

Maxine quietly took in the landscape as they passed it by. It was the same road to hell they had been driving down every day for the past year or so. They had traveled the road so much she could be a tour guide. Here was a mummified carcass, to the left a burnt out gas station, dying trees to the right, and if you look up ahead you can see the skeleton of what used to be the glimmering city of Las Vegas. Everything was either dead, or dying.

While her sandaled left foot rested on the car’s tan dashboard, her right hand waving in the dry summer air as they drove down the car littered freeway. Orange glitter polish sparkled on her fingernails and reflected the light of the sun onto her pale face and her dark blue sunglasses.

Almost a year had passed since she had seen her family. By now, she supposed, they had given up searching for her. Now that Bethany was safely tucked in their protective embrace what did they need with a dead girl? The last time she saw them didn’t end well either. Darius had been angry. It wasn’t her fault she was a zombie, she hadn’t asked for eternal life after death.

There were things Darius didn’t understand, and he never gave her a chance to explain. She wasn’t choosing to stay with Marcus, she was choosing to protect everything she loved. If she hadn’t stayed, Darius, Bethany, Valerie, and Dr. Blackwater would all be dead. Marcus would have killed them just to prove to her how evil and strong he was. It was true she could never live with her family again, but that didn’t mean she wanted them dead. Even though they rejected her because of what she was, she still loved them.

Of course she wasn’t the same girl she was alive, having grown and changed so much. It took time, but eventually she accepted her need to feed on the living. It helped keep decomposition from getting too bad. Although one place it showed in full force was her fingers and toes. Her nails had turned a deep purple and her toes were almost black on the ends. There had been a worry she would have to cut them off, but she decided if they were going to fall off she would just let them fall off.

The hazel in her eyes had taken on a toxic green glow, the blood and flesh from the living kept her eyes from becoming too milky. Sunglasses were a must when she went out for the day as the light hurt her eyes, but she preferred the dark of night anyway. It let her hide who, or what, she really was.

Marcus smiled as he drove the old burgundy station wagon they were currently using. Marcus always seemed to be smiling for some reason. Every so often she would wonder what was going on his brain, then decided it was better not to know. What went on in her brain was dark and blood filled enough.

Thought Maxine didn’t particularly care for some of the things Marcus did, actually she didn’t care for most of the things he did, she realized she was a monster and she lived with a monster. Marcus was a pretty depraved guy and there had been several chances to leave, she never took them. Thanks to him she was learning how to become a heartless killer, which would ensure her survive.

Zombies communicated with her and she found she could restore their memories, but some of them didn’t follow her, or want to be together with their own kind. Some zombies ignored her completely, others had very disturbing thoughts, only caring about killing and eating lifers.

The zombies who only cared about death concerned her because those were the ones Marcus would want as his first soldiers. All Marcus wanted was for people to worship him but he didn’t have plans to provide for those people. To him people were just as disposable as zombies.

Maxine knew he was a little shortsighted. To keep zombies he needed to keep the living, yet he murdered them all equally.

They drove past a sign that at one point would have told them how many miles were left until they reached Las Vegas. The sign was shot full of bullet holes and the only thing readable was La gas 45. Someone had also pinned a German Sheppard to the sign. The dog feebly kicked its legs, but it wasn’t alive. It was a zombie dog. Its gut was open and its insides were looped down the pole, lying on the dusty ground as fodder for ants and other scavengers.

Maxine sighed. She would have liked a pet.

Chapter Two

God he loved the desert. There was nothing out here, and he found himself enjoying it. It surprised even him that he would enjoy going from a town with a plethora of toys, to a place where there were so few to play with. Vegas wasn’t exactly his first choice, but it worked. The dismal view of the world from atop the buildings excited him.

The dead surrounded him and he bathed in it. Driving down the road with his little zombie next to him, he couldn’t help but smile. The world was dead and he could finally be who he was always meant to be.

Although things thus far had not gone his way, he still didn’t have a zombie army or human slaves, but he was enjoying life. Since leaving his home he had killed countless people, and he loved it. While his ultimate goal was still to have an army and slaves, he had no problem enjoying what he was given.

Wandering through towns he had enjoyed leaving bodies behind. There wasn’t even a need to hide, dismember, or lose the bodies of his victims. He could just leave them out in the open for carrion to pick at. He could literally bathe in blood and no one would stop him.

Unfortunately, Maxine wasn’t as worthy of the gift he had given her as he would have liked, and every so often he thought about ripping her head off and tearing the opaque eyes from her face. However, although he hated to admit it, he did enjoy having some company. Plus he didn’t have to pretend, and neither did she. He knew she hated him, and he didn’t care. Just like she knew he wasn’t fond of her either and they were both okay with that. But, if she ever tried to leave, he would kill her. Well, he would destroy whatever was left of her decaying body.

They’d run into a few groups of survivors, but most of the time it was just them, zombies, and desert. How he loved the zombies.

He didn’t want to become a zombie they fascinated him. They killed for no other reason than to fulfill their hunger. Just like him. It had always been one of the main reasons he played, murdered, and raped. He liked it. Enjoyed it. He yearned for it, the hunger for blood burned in him.

A smile etched itself across his face as he thought about his path and he knew he was destined for this. No one else could create a zombie army. He was the only one who could bring the living to their knees. Nothing could stop him from having his apocalyptic dream.

Maxine was unusually quiet in the seat next to him. Normally when they were on long journeys in search of other living souls and supplies, she would chat him up. He would want to punch her little face to make her shut the fuck up.

While he didn’t mind her silence, in fact right now it was a relief. He did wonder what was going on in that little putrefying brain of hers. Every now and then he would wonder what a zombie would think about, but not once had he asked her. That just seemed like a stupid fucking thing to ask a kid who was a zombie. Besides, could she really be thinking much of anything?

Dust rose in the distance and his smile got bigger. A body crunched under the tires of his burgundy car. Mummified bodies scattered the roads. Sometimes there would be a family of bodies that had collapsed into a clumped heap. Marcus didn’t even try to go around bodies anymore; they were so dry and empty they never did damage to his car.

One of the first times he had driven down the highway he had run over the head of a zombie lying in the middle of the road. The car had sputtered and died soon after. When he stopped, not by choice, the car was smoking and making choking sounds. When he looked under the car he saw mashed up zombie stuck up in the engine. Blood and other fluids dripped from it and bone fragments fell, softly plinking onto the pavement.

Since then he never drove over a body that wasn’t almost entirely dust already. Cars were easy to come by, but cleaning out the remains of the dead, making sure they had enough gas, even checking the car was tedious. Most cars had already been scavenged by someone else, and the few that weren’t had been broken down beaters unable to go more than five miles an hour.

Marcus leaned his head back against the tan headrest and twisted his head from side to side, his neck crackling in several places. The biggest problem with Maxine being a kid was that he had to do all of the driving. No matter what they tried they hadn’t been able to fix a car so she could see over the dash or reach the pedals.

When he rolled his shoulders back more crackling ensued. Body aching, he couldn’t wait to get out of the car and go for a run. One thing about the apocalypse was he learned to enjoy exercise, even more than he used to. Previously he kept in shape so his toys couldn’t beat him. Now it kept his mind clear and he had never felt better. If life had been like this before the apocalypse he would have played far more often.

Marcus took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The hot desert air filled his lungs, revitalizing his body and energizing his mind. Seriously, he loved the desert.

A rabbit with blood dripping from its chin hopped quickly across the road. Marcus aimed for the rabbit, not noticing the bloody grin on its face. The rabbit quickly scampered away, lilting to the left as it ran.

Chapter Three

Decapitation wasn’t always the best option when killing a zombie. There were times a zombie would keep trying to kill you, even without a head. Shooting a zombie in the head wasn’t always the best way either, no matter what anyone said. Especially now, when ammo was scarce and reloading supplies were hard to find.

Every now and then, if a zombie was shot in the head, the head would explode. Not only was that really disgusting, but, depending on how far the zombie had decomposed, nothing could get the smell of fetid goo out of your clothes or off of your skin. This could be very beneficial. If you smelled like a zombie while walking through a group of them the likelihood of getting eaten became slim to none.

Some people enjoyed the thrill of zombie brains splattering all over them. They enjoyed the kill, not the hunt. Darius had watched one group of survivors chop a young male zombie in half just to see how long the bottom half would continue moving without the head attached. The answer had been two minutes.

Two minutes might not seem like a long time, but when you’re fighting zombies, time always seemed to stop or slow down.

Darius always kept a loaded handgun and a knife on him, but when it came to putting down a zombie he preferred his silver and blue crossbow. With the crossbow nothing ever exploded, okay. Once things had exploded, but most of the time the arrow either entered the head and stuck or it shot right through, making a nice hole in the zombies mushy face.

A bonus to the crossbow was that the arrows were reusable, if he could retrieve them.

Darius thought back to when they had left the hospital with Bethany, Valerie and Harvey. It had been a trying time for all of them. Darius had almost lost his half-sister, had lost Maxine. Valerie had stayed in shock for what had seemed like an annoyingly long time. He had tried to be understanding, but difficult choices constantly had to be made without hesitation, and Darius wasn’t always up to making those choices himself.

Finding out she was pregnant had been both a bad and a good thing for Valerie. It seemed to make her happy, something to look forward to, to live for. However, it was also bad because she kept getting sick and there wasn’t much Harvey could do for her.

All of the pharmacies they stumbled across or searched had been thoroughly ransacked. The drugs left behind were of no help to Valerie when pneumonia settled in her lungs. Eventually they had to find a place to stop.

So, in Beaumont, Texas, they found a place to rest. Since Valerie was eight months pregnant, Harvey and Darius decided to stay until she gave birth. Once they stopped, even Bethany relaxed a little.

There were some nice dolls and a great dollhouse for Bethany to play with in the house they finally settled on and secured. Everyone else tried not to think about the people who had lived there as they cleaned up old, dried blood off the kitchen cabinets and out of the upstairs bathtub. It was easy to ignore the three graves in the backyard after the family photos were removed.

Valerie’s daughter, Annabelle, had been born three weeks early, and almost died. Harvey had been able to help her pull through. Valerie, on the other hand, didn’t make it. Weakened by the pneumonia, with no drugs to help, she had bled to death. Darius took care of her, cutting off her head so she wouldn’t have the chance to become a zombie. This was when he learned how difficult a body part was to cut off.

Annabelle would never know her parents, and she’d grow up in a world where zombies had always existed, no longer the stuff of nightmares. Darius often wondered if that would help Annabelle’s survival in the long run.

After burying Valerie with the unknown victims in the back graveyard, Darius and Harvey stuck around a few more weeks to give Annabelle the chance to get healthy. Then they continued to follow the path they believed Maxine and Marcus had been on, even though it had been a long time since they had seen them. They weren’t even sure they were even going the right direction anymore, until they arrived in the small town of Gila Bend, Arizona.

There they learned of a violent and dangerous man travelling with a creepy little girl constantly at his side. Darius had no doubt they were talking about Maxine and Marcus. The had moved through town leaving eight bodies behind, and vanished with three more.

Darius and Harvey decided to stay, at least for a little while. Both Annabelle and Bethany would benefit from a stable place to live. Gila Bend was small enough they didn’t have to worry too much about being overrun by zombies, and the surrounding desert was too dry for a zombie. They didn’t make it very far before collapsing, dehydrated, in the desert dust.

Now Annabelle was a happy little girl, following Bethany everywhere. Bethany benefited from being in one spot with other children to play with. Not many children under ten survived the initial outbreak.

There were eight teenagers in Gila Bend, and only three other children around Bethany’s age. Annabelle was the only child under the age of eight.

Darius hoped, prayed, both Bethany and Annabelle would survive, but in a world where zombies were the norm, life was difficult to maintain. Death wasn’t even a guarantee anymore.

The sound of thunder echoed in the distance. It was monsoon season. Thunder rumbled again and Darius realized how much he would welcome rain right now.

Rain drizzled in small droplets, hitting the dust and freeing thirsty zombies.

Chapter Four

The desert was hot. She didn’t know why Marcus had chosen Las Vegas to live in. Personally, she would have chosen somewhere with more moderate temperatures. It got so hot in Las Vegas she had succumbed to eating lower life forms just to keep her skin and bones intact. The desert air dried her skin out, making her famished, and there were not enough living people to feed on.

In reality, she could leave Marcus, go off on her own. These days instead of threatening her, he continually attempted to prove how strong and dangerous he was. Marcus thought smashing a living baby’s head against a wall would cause her to fear him, it really just made her hungry, always hungry.

Obviously he didn’t understand their relationship if he still thought he was in control of her, but Maxine saw no reason to prove him wrong, as long as she got what she needed to survive, and he didn’t hurt anyone she cared for.

Most zombies were hers to communicate with, getting into their heads and asking them to do things for her. Not all of them fully understood, but more often than not they would grasp enough to do what she asked. Right now she had some in different areas searching for her brother, half-sister, Valerie and Dr. Blackwater. What she got back didn’t always make sense, but usually the pictures that filled her head were enough. It was almost as if she were playing Pictionary with the zombies as they drew pictures or showed images to her.

From what had been shown so far,,someone was dead, but she wasn’t sure who since the last picture she had received had been of a new grave. It had no headstone or distinguishing marks, just freshly moved dirt and grass over the lump of a freshly dug grave. The zombie knew it was someone she was looking for because he had seen who he thought was her brother.

Maxine assumed Darius was still alive, but the last sighting had been over a year ago, and there had been nothing since. By the size of the grave she guessed it was Dr. Blackwater or Valerie, but it could have been someone else. Who knew what happened after they had run from the hospital. Someone could have joined her brother’s group and been killed, or maybe it was the body of someone they found when they stopped in the house.

While she wanted her family alive, she knew how hard life was for lifers. After accepting what she was she learned to forgive herself for killing the living, also accepting the survivors had a hard road in front of them.

Zombies weren’t just going to end. As long as the virus continued to be passed along, and people kept dying, there would always be zombies. Survivors never really thought about that. Then again it was nature to fight for survival, no matter what you were.

Looking out over the hot tan desert Maxine wished for rain. It was so dry here in Nevada, the air was stifling. Though personally she didn’t need to breathe, she knew if she had still been living the dry, hot air would make life miserable. Misery for which there was no relief since there was no electricity. So no fans, no air conditioning, and Marcus was a dirty, gross man.

Both of them had been surprised when driving down the road they saw most of the disabled and abandoned cars had been pushed or the side of the road. It was funny, the apocalypse was and wasn’t like the movies.

There were still a few cars left in the middle of the road. Some of them were military vehicles already salvaged for parts. Others were abandoned with the dead sitting in or falling out of them. Some of the dead looked like they had been struggling, leaving dried blood streaked on dusty windows. Most of the bodies were dry husks, barely recognizable as human.

There were dead bodies on the road too, fallen where they took their last breath, but they were few and far between. Most of the bodies were completely dehydrated by the dry heat of the desert. Parts were missing, torn off by hungry zombies or picked at by starving animals.

The roads leading away from large towns were now museums of the past. The clothing, the cars, the litter that struggled down highways and freeways, were all a reminder of what life had been.

Two years, it was just over two years since the zombies, her people, had