Revenence (Book 1): Dead Silence Read online

  She headed in the direction of the large garage, on the opposite side of the driveway from the house...then she thought better of it, and backed up a few steps toward the safety of her car. The garage door was open, and a bright overhead light was shining. She figured she might as well make herself known and figure out who was in there before she got too far away from the car. She was pretty sure that if it was one of those things that heard her voice, and not a normal human being, they'd come running at her without hesitation. This would afford her the opportunity to get back into her car, start it, and drive away before it could eclipse the three-hundred feet or so between herself and the garage. Drive away, or run it over. She wasn't sure where she'd go after that, but she thought it was a solid enough plan to start with, at least. She stood there for about twenty seconds before she worked up the nerve to call out loudly. "Who's in there?" she demanded, full of false bravado. Nobody responded, and she took a couple steps forward. More loudly this time-"WHO'S IN THERE?" Still silence. She tightened the grip of the baton in her hand and marched resolutely, but slowly, toward the garage. She was just outside the open overhead door when she shielded her eyes from the glaring fluorescent light mounted on the ceiling, and saw the woman squatting down in the loft of the garage, bow drawn, arrow pointed straight at Shari's face. "You gonna be one of them?" she inquired with a noticeable southern twang.

  Shari simply stood staring for a moment staring at the woman's resolute expression, locking gazes with her.

  A faint , meek "No," was all she could muster up. She was thinking to herself, What if I was? I'm supposed to say yes, so you can put an arrow betwixt my eyes?, but she thought it was a good idea to placate the lady pointing an arrow at her head.

  "Well, have you been bitten?" she demanded.

  "No. I had to get off the road, they...there were accidents everywhere, and those things..."

  "I know," the woman said as she lowered her bow, placing the arrow back into her hip quiver. She threw down a rope ladder and descended from the loft. "Just be glad you were out in the country, where there's not a lotta traffic. Otherwise, I suspect you'd have never had a chance." She crossed the garage toward Shari. She was a tall, lean, weathered blonde of about forty-five. She looked like a cliche country girl, alright...worn jeans, cowboy boots and hat, flannel buttoned down to reveal the upper swell of an ample bosom. "My husband is a truck driver, pretty sure he was up near Carbondale as of this morning, up in Illinois. God knows what it's like in a city of that size, if the shit's hit the fan there like it has here. I hope he was on his way into the city, not out. No traffic tryin' to get into the city, I imagine, less accidents. Out, on the other hand, southbound outta the city, road's gotta be jammed to high heaven. As you said yourself, accidents everywhere, even on this godforsaken country road leadin' to nowhere."

  "Yeah, I don't know if it's a local thing, or what," Shari offered quietly. "I got on the road outside of Central City, but I didn't see anything unusual until about five miles south down the highway. I didn't think to turn on the radio."

  "Well, radio ain't worth a damn anyway. Emergency broadcast came through about an hour ago, no real info though. Then nothin' but static. Internet, TV, no one's offerin' any explanation. I guess whoever's job it is to inform us has likely headed home to their families, or attempt to, at any rate. Can't say I blame 'em. Still, it'd be nice to have some fuckin' clue as to what's goin' on."

  Shari looked nervously toward the treeline shielding the property from the gravel road. "There are some of those things on the road up there, headed this way," she informed the cowgirl, pointing in the direction where she had seen them running toward her, apparently already aware of her car approaching. "I'm pretty sure they saw me come in here. I'm sorry, but I had no choice but to pull in here."

  "Aw, shitstain!" she cowgirl hissed, stomping the ground with one boot. "No matter, they'd have been here eventually whether you came or not. I ain't mad at ya. I mean, no tellin' what they're using to sense us...scent...sound...hell, maybe even sonar for all we know?" The cowgirl laughed . "They obviously ain't people no more. Well, I guess I might as well invite you in. No point in lettin' you stand out here to get eaten. Not my idea of a fun spectator sport." She turned back toward the rope ladder, and motioned over her shoulder for Shari to follow. "I've got a pretty decent setup here in the loft, if I do say so myself." She started up the ladder, and Shari gratefully followed right behind her. "I like to be prepared for anythin'. I guess you could say I'm a survivalist of sorts. It's not that I was really expectin' zombies, per se, but you never know when you'll need a hideout that's inaccesible to unwanted guests, know what I mean?"

  Shari climbed up off the ladder and into the loft, looking around. She grabbed the rope ladder and lifted it up into the loft, lest the zombies should try to join them. This lady wasn't kidding about the survival thing. There were weapons galore up here, plus some other staples to make the place somewhat liveable...some furniture, a refrigerator and deep freezer, microwave, even some books. There was also electricity and running water, judging from the sink and makeshift shower.

  "Yeah, me and a handful of people could hole up here for at least a few weeks, if not months, what with the fridge, freezer, and pantry all fully stocked. The electric won't go out if the grid goes down, since I have my own wind turbine and a few generators. Huge propane tank out back fully filled, so the gas won't run out, not this year at any rate. Water neither. We got a large cistern and a few reliable wells, too. I've got two stoves, one gas and one electric. You certainly picked the right place to wander in off the road, girl. Couldn't find a better place under these circumstances, not if you tried." She pressed a button on her keychain, and the garage door began to close. "But keep in mind, you better not be lyin' about not havin' been bitten. If I so much as suspect that you're thinkin' of eatin' me alive, I won't think twice before I push you off that balcony and let the zombies finish what they started," she warned, pointing toward the sliding glass door leading to the balcony.

  "Fair enough, but I'm telling you, I haven't been bitten." Shari sat down on a loveseat in the middle of the large room. "What makes you so sure it's the bite that does it?"

  "Well you've seen them, haven't you? You see one suffer what should be a lethal throat-gougin', and it's less than a minute before they're on their feet, runnin' at you full-tilt. This is when they were livin' and breathin' just moments before, the look of terror still shinin' in their eyes. I'm not sayin' I'm a zombie expert, it just seems like a logical deduction, is all."

  Shari thought back to that red Navigator, the mom and son. "So you're thinking they're zombies too, huh?"

  "I guess that's what you'd call 'em, although I guess it don't matter much whether we call 'em zombies, ghouls, or murderin' sadists. The point is, we can use our senses and our logic to see what they're doin', and react accordingly. You can call 'em what you like, as long as you stay the hell out of their way."

  Shari looked around some more, taking in the contents of the room, the various weaponry. "I guess you must be pretty good with a bow and arrow. There's got to be at least two dozen bows up here, and...what?...hundreds of arrows?"

  "Thousands, actually. And yes, I'm pretty damn good with a bow. Granddad taught me when I was a girl. I've taught countless classes, trained a number of friends and family...even made it to the Olympics with my recurve bow. And," she added, winking, "you'd be surprised what I can make a homemade arrow from. You gotta be resourceful."

  "So you really are a survivor."

  "Damn straight," the cowgirl responded with a smile. "Oh--I never introduced myself. I'm Fauna Astley," she said as she ambled over to the loveseat where Shari sat, offering her hand.

  "I'm Shari," she said as she stood, feeling Fauna's strong grip.

  "Pleasure to make make your acquaintence, Shari. Looks like we might be spendin' some time together."

  They had some frozen TV dinners that evening. Fauna said they might as well save the canned and dry food. "Might
as well use the cold stuff first, just in case of the unlikely event that somethin' happens. Fridge or freezer breaks down, I'd really hate to see all that good food go to waste, especially in light of all that's goin' on."

  They sat at a small stool-height table near the large sliding doors, eating their dinner. The view beyond the balcony was stunning, rolling hills and new, green spring foliage as far as the eye could see. In the distance, she saw the gravel road ribboning its way through the hills scenically.

  "Shari...is that middle eastern or somethin'?"

  "Indian. My grandparents on my mother's side were from India. My dad's side is American. His ancestors have been here since early colonial days."

  "I thought you looked a little, uh...exotic. I mean that in a good way. I'm not like some of the racist rednecks around here." She grinned. "I mean, I am a redneck, but I don't have a racist bone in my body. You've got a very pretty face. Wouldn't hardly know you're half white, though. If you don't mind my sayin', I bet you and your mama have experienced some racism out here in the country."

  "Well, my parents live in a good-sized town near the border in Illinois with a lot of different types of people. But yes, there are always at least a handful of racists no matter where you go. And it only got worse when I moved out on my own further south, to a small town in the middle of nowhere. I wanted to be out in the country, though. My closest neighbors are almost a mile away, and I like that. I like the privacy. Land was cheap out there, so that's where I found my dream house and settled."

  "So you a hermit or somethin'? I gotta say, you don't look like no hermit I ever seen."

  "No, I have a job, friends, even date every now and then. I just like knowing that at the end of the day, I can go home to my house, my garden, my horse. I can sit on my porch in my little nightie in the morning and smoke a joint and no one can see me, you know what I mean? I like that. I can just have peace and privacy out there. I mean, I could until now. Now, I don't even want to try and guess what's going to happen. I hope to make it home, feed my horse, have life go back to normal. But I don't foresee that happening with all that's going on. I'll be lucky to survive."

  "As long as you're with me, you got nothin' to worry about. I can't help but feel that in situations like these, it's our responsiblity to do whatever we can to help our fellow human beings, even strangers. Keep as many of us as possible alive," she said, gesturing toward the road, "and not like them."

  "I wonder how many more people are alive around here, besides us."

  "Well, no tellin', really. I would hope the ones who are still safe are smart enough to stay put, at least until they know how to deal with these things. Let the dust settle a little, as it were. I got horses, so when it is time to go out into the world again, I'd suggest usin' those, and not a vehicle. Horses can get where cars can't, especially with pile-ups all over the place. Another perk, horses don't need gas. Who knows if there'll be any of that left by the time we do venture out? You mentioned you had a horse back at home...you know how to ride?"

  "Yeah, that's one thing I know how to do pretty well. I went to the state fair every year for riding in 4H, every year between eight and eighteen. I grew up in a subdivision, but I spent a lot of time at my grandparents' farm outside of town. They let me keep my own horse there. My grandma taught me. Everything I know about horseback riding and gardening, I learned from her."

  "You a Western or English style rider?"

  "I learned both."

  "Know how to saddle 'em up and everythin'?" Shari nodded. "Good, 'cause I got a strong suspicion that's a skill that's gonna come in handy. I got three horses in the barn over yonder, but I don't think it's a good idea to plan on leavin' here just yet. We got everythin' we need here for now."

  "I was hoping to make it to my parents house, see if they're okay, but..." Shari trailed off, her voice cracking. She felt for the first time like she might cry. She supposed it was a survival instinct, waiting to cry until she was in a safe enough place to let her guard down.

  "But you know it's not a good idea," Fauna finished for her in the softest, gentlest voice she'd heard from the woman yet. "I'm bettin' wherever your parents are, the last thing they'd want is for you to leave someplace safe to go rushin' off into this mess tryin' to find 'em, which you probably won't, anyway." Shari began to sob. "You go ahead and cry, girl, get it out. Healthier for your mind that way."

  It was dark, around nine o'clock, and they were sitting on the sofa, passing a joint back and forth. Fauna had pulled a plastic baggie out of the cabinet built into the coffee table.."You mentioned herb earlier," she had said to Shari with a grin. "I thought you might like to try a little Kentucky homegrown. Since we're safe up here, it should be alright to let our guard down a little. Lord knows I could use it, and I'm bettin' you could, too." A kerosene lamp on the table in front of them cast flickering shadows on the sides of the room. Although the undead couldn't get into the garage, let alone up to the loft, they didn't think it was wise to make their presence known any more than absolutely necessary. That meant no turning on the fluorescent lights lining the ceiling overhead.

  "So what about you?" Shari was asking. "Where were you when you found out about all this? Here at home?"

  Fauna took a deep lungful of smoke, slowly exhaling a dark, dense cloud into the dimly-lit room. "I had rode up to the state park, about five miles away. Took Eva, the best and most bombproof horse I got, and boy, am I glad I did. I was gonna go riding on one of them trails they got up there. I rode past the campground, up the trail a bit. You keep taking that trail, you get to a cliff, and this partticular cliff affords a good view of the river and the campground below. Real scenic, you know, they have weddings up there and such. And I was just sitting up there, relaxing and enjoying the view. That was earlier this mornin', before the storm blew in, and the sky was clear and blue. Beautiful mornin'. And as I'm sittin' up there, I hear a commotion down at the campground. I look down, and it looks like somebody's having a heart attack. An old man. I think he was there with his wife and family, kids and grandkids, I assume. Well, it wasn't even a minute before he seemed to be dead. The family had taken out their cell phones, and so had some other people nearby and some cyclists who had stopped. But they were all yellin' about how they couldn't get through to 911. I took out my phone and tried from up there on the cliff. I thought maybe I'd have more luck up there. At first when they said they couldn't reach 911, I thought they meant that they couldn't get a signal on their cells. I found out real quick that they meant that the line was busy...the damn line was busy!" She paused as Shari passed her the joint, taking a puff and handing it back. "That was about the time I saw my neighbor's son run up, Bob Jensen. He must've been up there ridin' to. He hopped down off his horse and offered to try and help 'til the ambulance got there, him bein' an EMT and all. He started to go through the routine, and confirmed that the man most likely had a heart attack, and said he couldn't feel a pulse. So I sat there for maybe another five minutes tryin' to get through to 911, and everyone down below was doing the same. No luck, though. Bob apologized to the family, and said the man was gone. He hadn't had a breath or heartbeat the whole time he had been there. And that was when it got real bad all of a sudden. Bob was still leaned down next to the man, and that's when that ol' man tore Bob's throat out with his teeth. I just sat there, horrified, while the family and some others who had witnessed it started screamin' and runnin'. Some of the other people in nearby tents and campers took off for their cars, and others just froze up. A few got in their campers to hide in there. The cyclists took off. The family with the kids got into their SUV, started the ignition, while the one I presume to be his wife just wept and stood frozen to the spot. She was next. She never ran. She was just so shocked and confused. She should have been grievin', not runnin' for her life. In the SUV, the mom and kids were cryin', and the dad must've tryin' to think of what he should do, still tryin' to mess with his phone. That is, until dear ol' granddad took off runnin' toward 'em. Then he finally c
ut his losses and got outta that parking lot, turned out onto the road toward town. Well, that cliff I was up on, that cliff's the end of the trail. And there's only had one way down, and that was back the way I had come, out past the campground. Now I had seen that old man run fast, probably faster than he could while he was still alive and well, but I knew my horse was still faster. As I got down the hill and close to the campground, I slapped the reins and yelled so ol' Eva knew it was serious. As I rounded the curve on the path and rode past the campsite, I saw that Bob Jensen and the old woman were both runnin' around too. Funny thing is, the family had a few horses tied to the post near their camper, and those horses were fine. And it's not like they'd have been able to run if they had to. Should've been an easy target. There were dogs too, chained up here and there at the campground and picnic area. Those things, those zombies, just wanted no part of 'em. I just rode the hell outta there, all the way back home. Saw your car comin' on my way in, knew you'd want to avoid the accidents up ahead on the road. That's why the garage door was still open when you got here. I knew you'd show up. And the rest," she concluded, "is history."

  Shari sat quietly for a moment. "That's a shame about your neighbor," she said. "This is a time where we need as many EMTs and nurses and doctors as we can get."

  "You're right," Fauna responded. "But I'm bettin' this is only the beginning. Somethin' tells me there are gonna be a lot more neighbors and friends and relatives lost. Some useful people and some plain ol' good people, and the bad ones too. The guilty and the innocent alike. But one thing I know, and I know it for sure--this is no time to look back. No time to regret or wish. And don't you ever forget that, Shari. When the sun comes up tomorrow, it'll be shinin' on a different world."