Zombie Invasion

Zora Baker fared better than most. She and her small community living on the edge of Columbia, Missouri escaped the zombie plague. Farm life was tough but it came with its own rules. Children learned life lessons early. Zora was driving down empty country roads at the age of twelve. At fourteen she could work a modern tractor. At sixteen, she abandoned driving and could shoot vermin one hundred feet away with no difficulty. These were essential skills learned on the homestead. They were in addition to her learning baby care and cooking, starting at age seven—her real job in life.

  Zora was nearly nineteen when she left home. Her sheltered background put her at a disadvantage. Leaving home was the only way she believed she could gain equilibrium. Life on the farm was difficult and as long as she stayed, she would be treated as inferior to others and never gain acceptance. In their eyes, she was Zoraphena, the worthless freeze queen, killer of small animals and the innocent. She could never break free from her past around them. The decision to leave came easy; it was convincing her mother that proved difficult. Her father gave the argument that her growth was stunted on the farm and she was becoming a petulant child and no man would marry her in her current state. In the end, her mother gave in and allowed her to leave, but only if she moved to the outskirts of the city, so she could be watched. Not only did her mother worry about people, she worried about how her daughter would fare against zombies.

  Zombies had been in the world for a while, yet she had only seen one of the creatures, a withering old man. She and her family blasted it to hell as it came over the horizon. They gawked at the deformed creature and invited neighbors to a party so they could see a real live zombie for themselves. Everyone praised Simon, her young brother, for spotting the demon in the field. He received the honor of lighting the bonfire to dispose of the carcass.

  After settling in her new apartment, life was improving. No longer was she the outcast or dysfunctional creature. People in her new world had little clue of where she came from or her background. With a steady stream of half truths, Zora kept it that way. The young butterfly was emerging from her cocoon. She stood tall, confident, a new creature.

  A knock came from her door. She opened her apartment door to see Simon standing there, smiling. “Simon?”

  “Yeah, Zee, it’s me.”

  “What on Earth? How did you get here?”

  “I hitched.” A broad smile crossed his lips.

  “Come in.” She looked down the hallway, praying he was alone. Thank god he was alone. She shut the door to tackle her new problem.

  “Wow! I like it, Zee.”

  “Well, it’s not finished yet.” She pointed to a wall. “They were supposed to paint these walls and shampoo the carpet, but didn’t. I ought to ask for my money back and move somewhere else.”

  “Are you crazy? This is great!”

  “No, it’s not, I should know, I live here. I’m going to call the landlord in the morning and if he doesn’t come over, I’m moving. I don’t have to put up with them treating me like I’m inferior. Like I’m some old mangy dog they can kick around.”

  “Will you stop being dramatic, Zee. This is a good place. Let me move in with you.”

  “Yeah right,” she smiled.

  “You don’t have to act like that, Zee. You know what’s happening back home. Abigail is on the warpath. I swear to god, one of these days, I’m going to pretend she is a zombie and blow her head off.”

  Zora’s eyes became saucers. “Simon! Don’t you dare! Don’t you ever say anything like that again. If she hears you . . .”

  “I’m kidding, but you know how she is. Let me stay with you.”

  The look on Zora’s face was telling. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, then went into the kitchen. A knock came from the door. Simon went to the door and answered. “Yes?”

  The stranger was a young man of twenty. Redness filled his cheeks as he cautiously looked over the boy’s head into the apartment. “Um, um, is Zora here?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Um, well, I’m Tom.”

  “Tom who?”

  “Naper, Tom Naper. Is Zora here?” he looked over the boy’s head again.

  “What do you want with my sister?”

  “Um, we were going to study.” He was tall and thin, had short brown hair and wore glasses. His lips twitched in a half smile.

  “You don’t have any books to be studying. How old are you anyway?”

  “Simon!” Zora’s voice went high, “move!” she shoved him to the side and stood smiling at Tom. “Hey, Tom.”

  “Hey, Zora. I thought we could um . . . study.”

  “Come on in and have a seat.”

  “Who is he?”

  “None of your business,” she said.

  “Does mom know about him?” asked Simon as he sat on the other end of the couch facing Tom.

  “Remember what we talked about earlier?” hinted Zora. “I might say yes.”

  “I’ll be in my room,” grinned Simon. He happily walked to the bedroom and shut the door.

  “I’ll explain later,” said Zora. “I’m finishing lunch, give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  “Of course,” said Tom.

  Zora gave an awkward wave. She looked to the bedroom door before returning to the kitchen. Tom picked up a magazine off the table and began reading.

  Hours later, Zora checked on Simon. Sometimes a heavy meal puts him to sleep. She stared at him from her bedroom door, listening to the soft sleeping sounds he made. It was at that point she remembered his hitchhiking tale. She thought to wake him and scold him if it were true. Instead, she shut the door to focus her attention on her guest.

  “Is he asleep?” whispered Tom.

  “Shh,” she said, “he is out.”

  As the young couple began their make-out session, a frantic knocking came from the door. Zora ran to the door to keep it from waking her brother.

  “Angela?”

  “Hey, let me in.”

  “What is going on?”

  Angela was her next door neighbor. She rushed into the room and ran to the window. Looking out, she scanned before turning.

  “Angela?”

  “You don’t hear them?” the middle-aged woman looked at her with confusion. She turned and performed a second scan.

  “Them? Who are them?”

  Angela looked about. “Where is your television?”

  “I don’t have one. What is going on?”

  Angela left the window. She didn’t pay attention to the fact that her neighbor had company. She blushed as she approached. “Sorry.” She extended a shaky hand. “Angela Anderson.”

  Tom shook her hand from his seated position. His grip was weak. He felt odd being in the apartment and thought he should leave.

  “Tom Naper. I’m happy to meet you.”

  “Angela?” repeated Zora. Worry lines crept across her face to match her new arrival’s.

  Angela sat across from Tom and waited for Zora to sit next to her friend. Her thin hands fidgeted in her lap. Occasionally, she would run a finger through her brown hair. “I can’t believe you don’t know. The zombies are here. A whole shitload of them came in from the north. The streets are a mess. I can’t believe you don’t know.”

  “Zombies are here?” asked Zora. Her first instinct was to look to her bedroom door. Though she hated her childrearing duties, it had been ingrained in her to protect Simon. Only he and Stewart had an honored place of protection in her heart.

  “Yes, they are spreading like wild fire. You don’t hear the gunfire?”

  Zora went to her window. She saw no signs of catastrophe. Turning to her neighbor, she gave a confused look.

  “Open the window,” said Angela.

  After lifting, a faint howling sound came to her ears. Then she heard the sound of distant gunfire. “Oh my god! I hear them.”

  “The army is coming to evacuate us. I have to go pack. The news said to pack a bag with clothes, phone, identification, and bottled water if you have it. I hav
e to go.” Angela walked briskly to the door. She turned with a worried look. “Hurry, Zora, they are coming. I will meet you downstairs.” With that, she opened the door. Her eyes darted down each side of the hallway before she ventured out.

  Zora turned to Tom. “What do you think?”

  Tom sat dumbfounded, unsure of how to answer. His head made a slow turn from side to side. He stared at the floor, useless. Zora went into deep thought. A closer bang from her window shook her into action. She rushed to her bedroom door and went inside.

  “Simon, wake up.” She shook him.

  “What?”

  “We have to go. Get up, hurry!”

  Zora rushed from the room. The shotgun her father gave her was on her mind. She had to retrieve it and some ammunition. That was priority one. She never considered her neighbor could be lying. She would arm herself and then pack. She, Simon, and Tom would leave with Angela and the others. She ran to the kitchen for her weapon.

  Simon was rubbing his eyes as he came from the bedroom. He yawned and then waved at Tom. As he looked around to locate his sister, a scratching came from the door. Tom rose and went to take a look.

  Simon also heard the noise and moved to investigate from the bedroom door. He made it to the door ahead of Tom and out of curiosity reached for the doorknob.

  “No! You don’t know who that could be. Let me open the door,” said Tom.

  In an act of bravery, Tom opened the door wide. His eyes grew big as he saw it was not a small dog, but instead a zombie, more than one. Zombies rushed into the room at Tom. Tom turned to run as the first leaped toward him. He ducked and the zombie flew over his head. “Run Simon! Zora!” Tom was able to move toward the bedroom door before zombies flew at him. They all smashed through the thin door.

  Zora ran from the kitchen. She had found her shotgun, but not the ammunition for it. When she heard the howling, she dropped the gun to protect her brother. She screamed when she saw Tom struggling against three zombies in her bedroom. Her brother held his hands to a stark white face, eyes wide and hollow, gawking at the man on the bedroom floor. A creeping cloud fell over Zora. Through the veil that fell over her, she heard Tom screaming for her to run. With all her might, she shook it off and ran toward Simon. Zora scooped him into her arms and ran out the door.

  Down the hall they went. When she and Simon emerged to the outside, their ears met the horror of their predicament. Roaming zombies filled the streets. The zombies howled and screamed as they fed on those who fell. Some of the creatures danced with glee at their bounty. Others leaped on and knocked to the ground humans they came across. Only a handful of humans had hope, running toward a thundering sound to her right.

  Her full senses came back to her. The picture became crystal clear. It was the army. The zombies weren’t dancing; bullets from a large group of soldiers riddled them. The soldiers let out screams of vengeance as they fired large black guns from the tops of military vehicles. Zora pointed at them. “Run!”

  They ran to safety with the others. They were helped into the back of a truck.

  As Zora reached out a hand to thank her rescuers, a female soldier hit her in the head with the butt of her gun. Zora fell to the bed of the truck. Simon, Angela, and the rest of those who had climbed aboard were beside her.