Zombies in Paradise (Love in the Age of Zombies Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter Three

Kevin and Michelle started the day off making love, then Kevin got dressed and made coffee. Kevin told Doc about the upscale neighborhood nearby and they decided to scout for gas. He also told Doc about seeing the man and his dog as they scavenged supplies. Doc asked questions Kevin couldn’t answer—the guy’s age, his demeanor, did he look healthy, was he military, etc. Kevin couldn’t tell him much, but they agreed to watch for the man. Michelle stayed downstairs, complaining again about morning sickness and having a headache. Since becoming pregnant she’d gained weight, too, and Kevin wondered if it was normal for a pregnant woman’s face to swell as much as Michelle’s.

The third house they broke into had a four-car garage, and they were thrilled to find one bay held a very nice deck boat. The boat tank was nearly full, and there was a full five-gallon can of gas as well. After they siphoned the gas, Kevin said he hoped they could figure out a more pleasant way of doing this than sucking gas out of a garden hose.

The gas tanks on these boats typically hold about fifty gallons, and they agreed to round up more empty gas cans in the next few days to siphon off the rest of the gas.

They headed home without seeing any sign of the man or his dog. As soon as they opened the trap door, the aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted them. Michelle had slow-cooked one of the canned hams, and had gone so far as to put a layer of canned pineapple over the top and a brown sugar glaze had caramelized on top. It was delicious. Doc and Kevin were in a good mood and ate heartily, but Michelle was a bit subdued.

Kevin imagined she felt left out. They were going on a grand adventure (even if it was only a thirty mile round trip), and she had no choice but to stay home and wait. Kevin had only known her for seven months, but he’d learned she resented being treated as a member of the weaker sex.
She definitely does not fit that description—she’s as strong as anyone I’ve ever known, but she’s warm and soft, too,
Kevin thought.
If you didn’t notice her flashing eyes and haughty tone when she thinks she’s being put down, her bright, cheerful humor might make you think she agrees with you.
I imagine she’d be a fierce enemy. Just when a guy lets his guard down, hypnotized by her ample breasts, WHAM! He’s toast. Hey, wait a minute. Did that happen to me? I know I was hypnotized by her breasts and still am!
That night in bed she was responsive but quiet. Her orgasm was intense, and as she sometimes did after a hard climax, she wept in his arms. Kevin wondered if there was more to it than just a great orgasm.

He woke up early in the morning and made coffee. It roused Doc and Michelle, and they had a quick but quiet breakfast of energy bars and coffee. Doc and Kevin put on an extra layer of clothes, grabbed a few supplies, and they all headed upstairs. They loaded the bikes with their scant supplies, then Kevin gave Michelle a big hug and Doc gave her a peck on the cheek. “We’ll be back in a few hours,” Kevin promised, and they pedaled down the driveway. Michelle waved goodbye before turning on her heels and going inside. Kevin figured she still wasn’t feeling well. It felt good to be on his bike again, but he didn’t like waving goodbye to her.

The neighborhood was largely free of zombies. During the winter Kevin and Michelle had expanded their hunt and eliminated a couple hundred of the creatures. Kevin knew it was only a matter of time before more zombies migrated near.

Because they were only going fifteen miles or so, they didn’t pack much; a few bottles of water, two gas cans, Kevin’s revolver and Doc’s rifle. Doc also had a baseball bat he’d picked up in the boat garage. Kevin was wearing a bandana on his head and Doc had on a kind of hunter’s fedora.

It was amazing how fast houses had deteriorated. Some of the front doors were open, warped from the weather and hanging crookedly. The Ann Arbor winter had taken its toll. Nothing in the neighborhood looked neat and orderly. It was unnerving to see formerly clean roads, driveways and manicured lawns littered with leaves, fallen branches, and the occasional remains of the dead.

Once again, he was struck by the silence. Who knew civilization was so loud? With no machines, no near or distant sound of traffic, and no airplanes droning overhead, it was easy to hear the songbirds—but even easier to hear the silence. Kevin used to get irritated at night, hearing the sounds of traffic when he wanted to hear sounds of nature as he fell asleep with the bedroom windows open. Now it was too quiet.

Passing one house, Kevin could see at least a dozen dead zombie bodies scattered across the yard and in the street. As they threaded their way around the bodies, Kevin noticed their heads were separated from their bodies and they were very decomposed
; from dust they began, to dust they return
, he thought. The decapitated zombies meant survivors had been here at one point. Were they still around? Had they finally succumbed to zombies, or run out of food and starved? Were they watching even now?

He felt ill at ease. They were not far from the elementary school where the guy and his dog were holed up, and he pointed this out to Doc. Kevin could tell he, too, felt something was amiss. Riding their bikes through these streets felt like riding through a haunted neighborhood. It felt like they were being watched. Perhaps not with malicious intent, but with something not too far removed. He knew death had been here and was still nearby. He must be on his guard and be cool, but it was hard not to let his feelings spook him.

They made good time once they were in a more rural area without as many zombies to contend with. About an hour later, they approached North Lake and found Doc’s Jeep where it’d run out of gas. Doc began emptying gas into the tank while Kevin walked around the Jeep, checking it out. It was absolutely filthy. Mud was splashed back on the body, obscuring much of the paint. The passenger side of the windshield was cracked with dark gore residue smeared around the impact zone. The inside of the car was packed with supplies, from fishing rods to a tent to a bed pillow. Not being an outdoorsman, Kevin didn’t know brands, but the equipment looked very well-made.

“Your turn, Kevin,” Doc said as he finished emptying his gas can. Kevin took over transferring gas into the tank. Doc walked around his Jeep, inspecting it. Kevin saw him look at the broken fog light and shake his head in anger, and when he checked out the messy, smeared spider web of cracks in his windshield, Kevin heard him mutter under his breath, “Goddamn it!”

After Kevin finished with the gas, Doc got inside the cab and cranked the engine. It turned over a few times before it started, but the engine sounded strong and healthy. Doc let it warm up while Kevin opened the cargo area to make room for the bikes. Doc revved the engine a few times, looking relaxed and at home. Kevin could tell he was glad to have his Jeep back. Doc got out the map and they checked their route. They agreed to go back through Dexter, as the route looked a bit shorter. It was already after noon and they wanted to be home before dark.

Doc pulled onto the road. The sensation of going fifty miles an hour was both exhilarating and frightful for Kevin who hadn’t traveled faster than bike speed for the past six months. It was also familiar enough for him to relax after a few seconds. As they approached an underpass blocked with a vehicle pile-up, Doc stopped in the middle of the road and got the map out again. “Don’t you think you should pull over to the shoulder?” Kevin said. Doc just looked at him and laughed good-naturedly.

“We know we can’t get through the underpass, but look at the empty area around us,” he said, pointing at the map. “It looks like we could go off road here, just to the southwest.”
Damn, it must be nice to have a vehicle that can go off road! I’ve always driven sensible, fuel efficient cars,
Kevin thought. Choosing to color outside the lines—that is, going off-road—gave Kevin a sense of empowerment.

A few hundred feet before the overpass was the scrubby beginning of a tree line. Doc engaged the four-wheel drive and pulled off the road and into the field. Just as Doc said, it was wide open, flat, and empty other than a solitary zombie standing stark still in the middle of the field. They drove across the field, between two saplings, across the railroad tracks leading to the underpass, and into the parking lot of an A&W. Kevin’s mouth watered as he recalled the flavor and sensation of a frosty mug o’ beer. “Man, I could go for a mug of root beer right now!” he exclaimed.

“Ever mix root beer and bourbon?” Doc asked.

“No, I never even thought about using root beer as a mixer! How’s it taste?”

“I like it, but it’s not for everyone. It’s called a
Tainted Love
. You can also add a scoop of vanilla ice cream to make a grown up root beer float.” He suddenly whacked Kevin in the stomach. “Damn it! Now you got me wanting one!”

They crossed a bridge into Dexter with no trouble, but saw a group of zombies congregating downtown. A few of them began following the Jeep, but couldn’t keep up.

Kevin asked Doc if he’d scanned the radio on his trip. Shaking his head no, Doc hit the scan button and the display cycled through the frequencies a couple of times when they heard “Michigan. We are—haven—doct—ospital. All uninfect—This broadcast—”Doc and Kevin looked at each other. “Wow! Did he say they were in Grand Haven? Or South Haven?” Kevin asked.

“I heard the word
haven
just like you did, but I don’t know what else he said. He might have been saying
safe haven
or
haven’t shaven
or any number of things. The signal cut out so much, it’s impossible to say. Let’s keep the radio on and see if we pick up a better signal.” Within fifteen minutes, cresting the top of a hill, they heard the message in its entirety: “This is the civil authority in Frankfort, Michigan. We are a community of survivors and can offer safe haven. All unbitten and uninfected people are welcome. We have medical facilities, a doctor, nurses, and supplies at our hospital. We repeat, all unbitten and uninfected survivors are welcome. Be warned that we are well-armed and will protect ourselves from unwanted intruders. This broadcast will repeat every quarter hour.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of any kind of community of survivors! We should check it out! Maybe they found a cure for the zombie infection!

“Could be, but that broadcast isn’t proof that anyone’s still there. For all we know it’s been repeating for months,” Doc countered.

“But obviously they have power!”

“So do you. If they set up solar power like you did, it’s possible the radio still has power but survivors are long gone. Didn’t you read
On The Beach?
when you were in school? Even so, it’s intriguing.” They fell silent for a few minutes, each considering the implications of the broadcast. Despite Doc’s misgivings, Kevin was excited about the possibility of survivors banding together and forming a safe community.

A half-hour later they pulled into Kevin’s driveway. Arriving home was anything but uneventful. Michelle was visibly relieved; she’d been upstairs, watching for them. Even though they’d only been gone a half-day, Michelle ran to Kevin and practically attacked him with kisses. She’d been worried, and her worry instantly transitioned from relief to affection. On their way downstairs, Kevin and Doc began to fill her in on the journey while she kept her hand always in contact with Kevin’s body. Everywhere she touched felt electric to Kevin. They told Michelle about the radio broadcast from Frankfort and about Dexter being overrun with zombies. Once downstairs, the smell of home-cooked food wafted their way and Doc in particular was enthused.

“What’s that heavenly aroma?” he asked. With pride, Michelle explained that she’d made a casserole with the leftover ham and a package of dehydrated
au gratin
potatoes. During dinner Michelle kept rubbing her bare foot up Kevin’s pant-leg unseen under the table. It was hard to concentrate on the conversation, and Doc was probably wondering why Kevin was so distracted. Then again, maybe he didn’t notice—he appeared to be relishing his meal. “It’s so good to have a hot meal. I’ve been living on canned food for so long, this is a luxury and I want to thank you.”

Not long after they finished cleaning up, he began yawning—not entirely convincingly—and said he hoped they could call it an early night. Michelle and Kevin both agreed, perhaps a bit too quickly. A half-hour later he pulled the mattress out and began making his bed. They took that as their cue and said goodnight then scurried into the bedroom for a night of sensual exploration.

Chapter Four

The same day Doc and Kevin retrieved the Jeep, Don
went to see a man about a horse.
He pushed the shopping cart down the sidewalk, one front wheel endlessly waggling back and forth. Matey walked next to him, scouting ahead with his superior sense of hearing and smell. They were in a neighborhood they hadn’t visited before, and Don knew bad people could be hiding. So could the rotting crazies.

So far they’d only gathered a few dozen cans of food and some magazines Doc found under a bed. He also found a case of cat food. He knew Matey would eat it. Don even tasted it once but didn’t like it.

He had plenty of food back at the school, but scavenging was a habit and kind of fun. He liked going into people’s houses. It wasn’t so nice if they were dead inside because it smelled bad, and it wasn’t nice if one of the crazies was there. But a lot of the time there were no dead people or crazies. Then he got to look around at all the stuff.