Author's note: This story was started well over two years ago. Any likenesses to current events are purely coincidental. Thank you.
"Shhh, Vlad, you have to be quiet, they're down there," Valerie Barton whispered to her best and only friend in the broken world she lived in. The crisp autumn wind whirled her raven black hair around her face as she looked down from the roof of her apartment building to the sea of undead people milling around the base and first floor of the edifice. Nobody knew exactly why the dead started coming back to life and attacking the living. Or why their hunger was insatiable. Val's daddy had some ideas, he was really smart like that. She only wished he had kept his promise.
He promised he'd be back the next day…that was three months ago. She didn't like promises, once things started getting bad, Gamma and Pop Pop said they would come pick her up and take her out to the country in their RV. When she got bit, Mommy said she would be fine. A long time ago, Billy Jenkins promised it wouldn't hurt. Everybody broke their promises. Now it was just her and Vlad and she was running out of food for the both of them.
As much as she hated it, she knew she would have to use the crank her daddy had set up. Daddy designed it to be easy to use. All she had to do was sit in a basket and spin a reel. This would lower her from the top floor of their apartment complex to the roof of the Grocery 4 Less across the street. She lived in a small town called Lumberjack, Iowa. The building she lived in was easily the tallest around. Even at only ten floors, nothing else in town came close. Before going downstairs, she took one more look at the horde below her. "Do you think they know we're up here or are they just milling about?" She asked Vlad.
"Yeah, I agree, I think they aren't that smart either. And remember what Daddy says, ain't ain't a word."
She climbed down the ladder into Mrs. Cardenas' apartment. Daddy had cut a hole in her ceiling so Val didn't have to use the rickety stairs on the side. Val didn't think Mr. Cardenas would mind seeing how she was dead along with so many others in her hometown.
"I need you to be brave and stay here, Vlad,' She said, 'You remember what happened last time?"
"Thanks for being so understanding." She gave her friend a hug and carefully strapped herself into the bucket seat that was just outside the window and fastened the harness. Turning the reel, she began to pass slowly over the heads of the throng of undead below her. She knew she shouldn't, but she looked down. There was Mr. Johansson, the baker that would always give her a free cupcake, missing half his face. Over there was Ms. Stevens, her favorite teacher with a bloody stump for a left arm and no lips. Seeing people she used to care about shuffle around like that always made her a little sad. Around the corner limped Billy Jenkins covered in gore with his stomach mostly eaten. Val didn't much mind that he was dead.
Finally, she made it to the other roof and quickly unbuckled herself. She made her way over to the old sky light over the storeroom that had been her point of entry multiple times. A piece of plywood was all that remained to protect the inside from the elements. She slid the faded wood aside and used an old metal ladder to climb down into the storeroom.
The glass from the long-shattered light crunched under her feet as Val moved across the room to the door. She took three deep breaths of the musty air readying herself for what might be on the other side. She picked up the bloodstained broomstick she hoped she wouldn't have to use again and turned the knob.
The coast seemed to be clear. The checkout boy, Mike his nametag said, was still where she left him two weeks prior. Her stomach tightened as she tried to avoid looking at him. She still felt bad about killing him even though she remembered what her Daddy said, 'They're not real people, Angel. They don't feel pain or love or sadness or even hatred. They just want to kill and eat you. If ever one tries to get you, you have to destroy the brain somehow. Stab it, shoot it, it doesn't matter, just break the brain.' 'The hole in Mike's eye socket proved she remembered her lesson.
The only reason Mike had a chance to make a meal of her was because she wanted to see if the walk-in freezer had any ice cream left. The sign on the door said 'Stay out' so she figured it must have held something yummy. Vlad thought it was a good idea.
Val didn't want to find any more surprises like the last time so she picked up a hand basket and started to fill it with as many canned goods and bottled drinks as she could find. Being a small town, there hadn't been much of a rush on the store to stock up on supplies. In fact, most people didn't believe there was a problem until it was too late to do anything about it. A smack on the storefront widow almost made her drop a can of apple pie filling. When she turned around to investigate the noise, she saw old lady Fleming pressed against the glass. Val stared into the milky white eyes of the elderly woman then looked to her blackened teeth speckled with blood and fur. Daddy said the white eyes were a result of the change. Mrs. Fleming's teeth had been black from a lifetime of smoking for as long as Val could remember, and the blood and fur likely came from one of the dozens of cats she used live with.
Val wasn't sure if the creepy undead cat lady could see her, but she wasn't going to take the chance and stay for any longer than she had to. Val gathered the last few items that she needed then as quickly and quietly as she could, she went back to the storeroom. As she skirted around Mike, she once again wished she didn't have to leave the apartment at all. She climbed the ladder, difficult with a full basket of supplies, strapped herself in, and reeled backed home. It was slow going for a girl of her slight frame and by the time she made it back, it was getting dark. Vlad was waiting for her as she climbed back through the window.
"No, don't worry. I got it. Thanks for the offer though." She said earnestly.
Together they took her haul to the apartment that up until recently she had shared with her Mommy and Daddy. She put everything in the panty, but kept one can hidden from Vlad.
"Ok, buddy, time for supper. What do you want?"
"Fine, Ravioli, corn, and peaches it is. They ran out of the good stuff so will store brand sports drink be ok?"
She ate in silence offering bites to Vlad, he wouldn't take them, he was a nice guy like that. That night, after changing into her pajamas she walked over to the puppies and kittens calendar on the wall and put a big 'X' through the day.
She sighed heavily, "That's day…ninety-one since Daddy left, Vlad. Only a week left until my birthday. He just has to make it back by my birthday. I even got him something. Wanna see?"
She ran to the other room and grabbed the apple pie filling. "I got this, Vlad. Apple pie is his favorite. It's both of our favorites. I know we can't bake a real pie, but this will just have to be close enough. You can't have a twenty-sixth birthday without pie."
Later, despite the moans, she opened the window to let the cool air in her stuffy room. She was almost asleep when a bright flash shot across the sky. She sat up and held Vlad tight.
"Vladimir Romero Barton, I don't appreciate that kind of language. But yes, it scared the…jeepers out of me too. Maybe somebody got some planes working again. I sure hope so. Night, night." With that, she kissed her stuffed red bulldog on the nose, rolled over, and went to sleep.
XXX
Jack Alexander woke up just before his alarm went off. He didn't mind, it gave him a chance to turn it off and let his fiancée Ashley sleep in. He carefully got out of bed and got dressed. He threw on his lucky hat and left their room gently shutting the door behind him. He made his way to the kitchen where he was met with freshly brewed coffee and Danishes. He filled his thermos, grabbed a couple doughnuts, and set out to work.
It wasn't easy being the leader of a small community of survivors, but he did his best. As he made his way to the roof, he nodded hello to those that were starting to get up and get around. That he wasn't the only early riser anymore showed how much his little community had grown in the previous six months. He utilized another recent change, the spiral staircase they had installed to replace the ladder to go up. Jack thought it would be nice to have his hands free when going higher to escape from danger.
At the edge of the roof, a mountain of a man peered through a pair of night vision binoculars sweeping them all around. The sun was beginning to rise so the man wouldn't need them much longer. Jack could tell the man was solely focused on what was in front of him, so he put his breakfast down and crept up on him. With one swift motion, he licked his finger then put it in his friend's ear.
"The Wet-Willie bandit strikes again." Jack said laughing.
"Oh, yer a bastard," Said Moose also laughing while trying to wipe the saliva out of his ear.
The outbreak of the Lifeless had begun six and a half months prior. Jack was quick to realize things would rapidly turn from bad to worse. Employing this foresight, before anybody even had a chance to start looting, he along with a few others took control of a Savini-Mart in his hometown of Dixon, suburb of Houston, Texas. Folks were more confused than anything when a few large men with large guns came bursting in shouting that the store was theirs now, and everybody had better leave or follow their rules. Moose was one of those that helped him take the store and had remained his right hand ever since. He wasn't proud of what he had to do in the first few days of the epidemic, but he felt he had more than made up for it in the six months since.
"How's it looking out there?" He asked his friend, offering him coffee.
"Naw thanks, I gotta be gettin' to bed soon. Coffee'll keep me awake fer hours. But yeah, looks 'bout the same out there. Can't really tell the difference 'tween a shit ton an a whoppin' shit ton."
Jack nodded in approval, a "shit ton" was bad, but having the entire population of Houston move North would be much, much worse.
"Any sign of 'Dre yet?"
Moose shook his head and said, "Nope. Last check in was 'bout an hour ago."
Jack's stomach tightened. He hated sending his people on missions outside the safe zone. Even though he would never ask anybody to do something he wasn't willing to do himself, he still abhorred the thought of potentially sending someone to their death.
Standing up and stretching his back first, Moose then put a hand on his friend's shoulder and with a reassuring smile said, "Don't you worry your precious little head. You don't get to the Pro Bowl five times by being a slouch. He knows how to run, jump and juke, 'Dre'll be fine."
As fate would have it, as soon as the words left his mouth, the radio beside Moose crackled to life, "Moose, you there?"
The big man picked up the receiver and said, "Yeah, buddy, I'm here. Ya comin' back soon or are ya gonna grab a bite to eat first?"
"Eat my nuts! I got held up. I wanna see your fat ass shimmy up a drain pipe wearing what I got on."
Jack took the mic before they started arguing more, "'Dre, did you leave the package?"
"Jack? That you? Morning! Of course I did.' The former all-pro running back for the Houston Supernovas professional football team said with faux indignation, 'You know 'Dre always take it to the house."
Jake chuckled at his friend using his signature catch phrase. He then got sad when he remembered that it was mid-October and a Sunday at that and there likely wouldn't be professional football ever again.
He picked up the mic again, "Well 'Dre come on back home safe, we'll have your room made up by the time you get back."
"Sounds good, Chief. Be there soon as I can."
Jack gave the mic back to Moose and said, "You'd better get to bed too. I know you night-shifters need your beauty sleep or you start to look like the dead yourselves."
"Naw I'll be alright. I wanna stay up for the show. Then I'll hit the hay."
"Fair enough. I'm going to make my rounds. Let me know when 'Dre makes it back."
"Will do, boss man, have fun laying down the law."
Jack laughed a bit before he moved on. First, he checked in with Darlene Higgins and her rooftop greenhouse. Miss Darlene, as she preferred to be called, was the garden manager at the store when Jack and Moose took it over. She could see how things were going in a way her coworkers couldn't. Hence, when it came to decide who stayed and who went, she stayed.
"Knock, knock Ms. Darlene. Checking in on things. What's going on?"
The middle-aged blonde woman looked up from her tomato plant and said, "Nothing much, Hon, just sweating my lady nuts off in here. Can't believe a Jerry-rigged hothouse like this would be so…well, hot."
Jack liked Darlene. She was bold woman who wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind. She was sure to include a few endearing words mixed in with her brashness to ease any sting she might have caused.
He wiped his brow and laughed, "You got that right, Dar. And it's not even eight yet. How's the pumpkin patch coming along? Are they ready to make me-o-lanterns yet?"
Darlene looked confused for a moment, and then guffawed until she snorted, "You-o-lanterns? You're such a weirdo. No, they ain't not ready yet. You'll have to wait another week or two until you can make a self-portrait out of squash, only with more teeth."
Jack flipped her off as he walked away, he had better things to do than get insulted. More early risers waved to him as he walked back downstairs. It still baffled him how a former plumber that nobody would usually pay attention to had managed to rise to a position of respect and power. He picked up a phone on the wall and pressed the intercom button. "Attention and good morning everyone. This is Jack. I'm sorry to wake anybody still asleep, but you won't be asleep long anyway. As soon as 'Dre arrives, I need everybody to make their way to the roof for a demonstration. Thank you."