Dry Rot: A Zombie Novel Read online

  My basement was cold and the air smelled damp. A large metal door was set into the far wall. Three locks were set into the door. I knew the combination to each by heart. The first lock was my birthday, then Lisa’s and finally Kara’s. I could have picked better combinations, ones that were harder to guess, but it felt right to use their birthdays. This bunker was where I kept things that would save our lives. Even though Lisa hated it, this was ours. I made this for my family.

  I was alone. The door swung open and I looked at the three bunks set into the wall with a heavy heart. All the supplies had been designed to support three people. Everything I had ever done was for them.

  A series of hooks hung from the wall near the door. Three NBC masks hung from the hooks. They looked a little strange, kind of like a fish bowl on my face, but they were designed to keep the wearer safe from nuclear, biological and chemical threats. I figured those three areas had to cover whatever was happening outside. I pulled my mask over my face and took a few deep breaths. It pressed on my face and the lens fogged a little. It was still better than the sweatshirt.

  The two remaining masks hung on the wall. They were reminders of people who should be with me, people I was missing.

  That shit that had fallen from the sky was still on my clothes. I stepped out of the bunker, undressed and put my clothes in a black trash bag. When I dropped my jeans to the floor, I heard the hollow thunk of my cell phone hitting the concrete floor. I dug it out of my pockets. I tied off the bag and then sealed it with duct tape. I cleaned up as best as I could and changed into a clean set of clothes from the supplies in the bunker. I would need to set up the decontamination shower later, but right now I was just too tired. After that, I grabbed a small, hard package that sat on the shelf. It was drab green and wrapped in plastic. I never could believe they fit these things in such a small bag.

  I cut the plastic and removed the S-3 NBC suit from the plastic. It was a protective suit. The layers were lined with charcoal and should keep me safe. I pulled the drawstrings and sealed the cuffs. I didn’t know what was outside, but this was my best bet at surviving it.

  There was food on the shelves and bottled water, but I realized that my appetite had vanished. I would have to make sure to eat and drink something later. I walked past the shelves and further into the bunker, trying not to notice that everything was sectioned off in threes.

  In the rear of the bunker, my guns hung on some pegs I had set into the wall. A thin coating of dust covered the weapons, but I had wrapped them in plastic after cleaning and oiling them. Knowing that I was going to get locked up allowed me enough time to make sure everything was squared away. A few minutes of cleaning and a little bit of new oil and the guns were good as new.

  Near my gun rack was a HAM radio and a series of battery-powered chargers for cell phones and other electronic devices. I plugged my phone in and watched the screen blink to life.

  I loaded my Mossberg 930 Special Purpose. As far as shotguns went, this was one of my favorites. A few extra shells were stuffed into my pockets. I don’t know what I was getting ready for, but things were fucked up and I felt better holding a shotgun.

  Someone screamed outside. It was angry. A second scream followed. It was a cry for help. I was halfway up the stairs before I realized I was moving.

  Back in the bunker, a text message appeared on the small screen of my phone. I wouldn’t see it until later, but its words would remain carved into my heart.

  Kara: I miss you, Daddy. I love you.

  -9-

  A black dust devil raced across my front lawn. My eyes followed it. I couldn’t see where the screams had come from. The streets were empty. At the end of my block, I could see a minivan crashed into the side of someone’s house. A section of the roof had broken free and crushed the front half of the minivan. Was that where the yelling had been?

  The woman screamed again. I could hear a man barking orders. It sounded like the noise was coming from my neighbor’s house. I thought her name was Jane or something like that. She had a dog named Rusty or Fluffy or whatever. I think he was one of those pocketbook dogs. Of course, all that information meant nothing because in three years Jane could have moved and some new white trash couple could have moved in. Hell, maybe yelling at each other was their Friday night fun? Then I heard a child scream and start crying.

  I racked a shell in my shotgun and cleared the steps of my neighbor’s porch in one leap. Jane or not, I didn’t care who was living next door to my house. There was a child in there.

  The door was locked. It took three or four kicks to rip the bolt from the doorframe. Every Hollywood movie showed the police breaking doors down with one kick. I don’t know if there was some special technique you learned at the academy, but I sure as hell didn’t know it.

  A woman was curled in a corner. It looked like she was trying to protect her son from the man that stood in the middle of living room. The boy was thrashing, trying to get out from behind his mother. He was foaming at the mouth. His eyes were wide with anger and his mouth was curled into a feral snarl. I didn’t know who this man was or what he wanted, but the look on the boy’s face told me more than I needed to know.

  The man spun to face me, or more specifically, to face the business end of my Mossberg shotgun. His face was covered in boils. Some had burst, leaving raw sores wreathed with jagged, leathery skin. Clumps of hair had slipped from his scalp and were strewn about the carpet.

  “Get. Out. Now.” I motioned towards the door with my shotgun.

  Blood zigzagged from the man’s eyes. He squinted at me, as if trying to figure out what his next move was. I wasn’t in the mood to wait and find out. The guy took a step towards me.

  “Leave,” I said and pulled the stock tighter against my shoulder. I was ready to kill this asshole if he left me no other choice.

  “Get out, Ian,” the woman shouted. She pointed towards the door with a trembling finger. I noticed that her skin looked normal, so did the boy’s. Her words did nothing to calm the situation. Ian, whoever he was, turned and rushed the two people huddled in the corner.

  The butt of my shotgun crashed into the back of Ian’s neck. He let out a surprised yelp and fell to the floor. He lay there facedown, gurgling and pawing at the carpet. I pressed the barrel of my shotgun against his head.

  “Run over to my house,” I said. “It’s the white one next door. Go down to the basement. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Next door?” the woman asked. “No one lives next door.”

  “I do,” I answered. “Now go on over to my house.”

  The woman nodded and stood up from the floor. She used the wall to brace herself and I could see bruises on her arms. The boy had similar marks. My finger tightened around the trigger.

  Once I heard the lady and boy run down the porch steps, I kicked Ian in the ribs as hard as I could. It was like driving my boots into a sack of laundry. His midsection lifted off the floor and thumped back down without so much as a grunt. I nudged him with the toe of my boot. He didn’t move.

  “Get up,” I said. “Ian, get the fuck up.” The NBC mask muffled my words, but he should have been able to hear my command. Ian remained still.

  I placed my foot under his shoulder and pushed him over onto his back. The boils on Ian’s face had burst and spilled yellowish-red pus across his face. His eyes were ringed in clotted lines of blood, but had clouded over and become dull and lifeless. Ian’s chest and stomach were motionless. He was dead.

  I left Ian on the living room floor.

  -10-

  My front door was open. The woman was in a rush. I could understand, but still, leaving the door open was a bad move. There could be more people like Ian or the homeless guy out there and the last thing I wanted was to invite them into my house. Still, I couldn’t really blame her.

  I walked into the basement and found the woman and boy standing near my bunker. They were staring into the interior and turned to face me as I came down the stairs. The boy stepped
in front of the woman.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked.

  “My name is Lucas. This is my house. I was away for a while.” I leaned my shotgun against the wall. They seemed harmless enough and I didn’t want to scare them anymore than they already were.

  “Thank you,” the woman said. “I’m Danni and this is my son, Jared. We moved in next door a few months ago. Ian is my boyfriend.”

  “Was,” I said.

  “You killed him?” Danni asked. It was a simple question. There was no anger or sadness in her words.

  “No, I didn’t kill him,” I answered. “Whatever the hell is going on out there killed him. I saw it kill some other people earlier today. I think it has something to do with the ash that fell from the sky.”

  “Why didn’t it kill us?” Jared asked. He appeared to relax a little.

  “Not really sure about that one,” I said. “What I’ve seen looks a little like radiation poisoning, but there’s something off about it. That should have affected everyone the same.”

  “Are you some kind of soldier or something?” Danni asked. “Were you deployed overseas?”

  I laughed. “No, I was a construction worker. The stuff you saw inside my bunker was…um…well, I guess it was a hobby.”

  “Some hobby,” Jared snorted. “So where were you?”

  “Don’t be rude,” Danni said and slapped Jared's shoulder. A puff of ashy black dust rose into the air.

  There was no reason to lie. I had nothing to gain from it and if these two didn’t like what they heard, well then they could get the hell out. “I was in prison,” I said.

  “Prison?” Danni asked. “What did you do?” The question came a little too easy, perhaps practiced with other men in her life.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to be rude,” Jared said. “Besides, how many times did Ian go to prison? Who cares what Lucas did?”

  “Manslaughter,” I said. Again, honesty was just easier. “I served three years.”

  “Couldn’t have been that serious if you only served three years,” Jared said.

  “Good behavior and overcrowding,” I explained.

  “Oh,” Jared said. He stepped in front of his mother again.

  “But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” I asked. “I’m not telling you that you have to stay here with me. You’re welcome to leave if you want.”

  “Leave?” Danni asked. “But what if we want to stay?”

  “Then take you clothes off,” I said. “Both of you.”

  “What?” Jared stepped towards me, his hands curled into fists.

  I had been in prison too long and forgot that normal people explained things to each other. In prison, you just said what needed to be done or took it without talking. There was no time or reason to explain things to other inmates. They’d do what you said if they respected or feared you.

  “Sorry.” I held my hands up. “Your clothes are covered with ash. We need to bag them up in case it’s toxic or radioactive. There are extra clothes inside the bunker. I’ll go upstairs. Find something that fits. Put the dirty stuff into one of the black garbage bags and tape it up. Make sure you use the shower to clean off. Let me know when you’re done.”

  I showed them where I had set up my decontamination shower in the far corner of the basement. It was near the dry well so the water would run in. It was a small portable, single person shower that I had order from Grainger. It cost more than my first car and at the time had seemed like something I’d never use. I was glad I had it.

  Danni and Jared nodded as I showed them how the shower worked and where the trash bags and tape were. They looked scared. I couldn’t really blame them.

  I walked upstairs and collapsed onto the couch. A small puff of dust leapt off the sheet that covered it. Regular dust. I watched the motes waft around the room like an army of homeless fairies. I guess it was good that everything in the bunker had been in threes.

  It should have been Lisa and Kara down there, not these strangers. She never should have left me.

  I still missed my family.

  -11-

  Danni came up from the basement wearing some of Lisa’s clothes. Jared had dressed in some of my old clothes. They were comically oversized. He had to roll the pants and sleeves. Kara’s NBC suit should fit Jared. He looked to be about twelve or thirteen and bigger than Kara, but it should still fit. I was never sure when or if Kara would need it, so I bought a larger size. Lisa’s suit would fit Danni fine.

  I hadn’t shown them the suits. They still stared at me like I was an alien, but the longer they spent walking around without a mask and suit, the more likely they would get sick or infected. Besides, I wasn’t planning on staying here. They were welcome to do whatever they wanted, but I still needed to see my family again. That wasn’t going to happen sitting around here.

  “Come on,” I said. I walked past Danni and towards the basement.

  “Wait,” Danni said. She stood in the doorway with Jared behind her. I turned to look at the two of them. “Can we eat something? Jared hasn’t had anything to eat since this morning.”

  “The food is down here.” I walked a few more steps, but didn’t hear them following. “What is it?”

  “Isn’t the food in the kitchen?” Danni asked. She was a creature of habit, most people were.

  “I wasn’t here for three years, so there’s no food in the kitchen,” I said. “Besides that food would be contaminated. There’s food in the bunker.”

  Danni and Jared followed me down the stairs. I stood at the door of the bunker.

  “We’re going to need to sleep in here tonight. There are beds and an air filtration system. We should be safe in here.”

  They hesitated. I couldn’t really blame them. Some strange guy, who is admittedly an ex-con, busts down their door dressed like a damn space alien and then suggests that they lock themselves into his secret basement bunker. Yeah, I’d hesitate too.

  “I’m not going to do anything,” I said. “Don’t you think I would have done it already? There’s no lotion to put in baskets or any other Silence of the Lambs stuff. It’s safe in here, that’s all.”

  Danni nodded to Jared and then walked into the bunker. Jared looked into my mask as he walked past. I shrugged. There was no need to posture. This kid was protecting his mother. I got that.

  Once they were inside, I walked across the basement and filled the generator with gas. Before I went away, I added stabilizer to my gas supply. I still wondered if it would hold up. The generator chugged to life and I checked the vent line to make sure we wouldn’t kill ourselves with fumes, though I guess there were worse things that could happen. Everything looked in order. I switched the generator off. For now, we still had power from the grid so there was no point wasting the gas.

  I walked into the bunker and closed the door. The lights set into the ceiling were on and Danni and Jared sat on two out of the three chairs inside. I twisted the handle to seal off the door and made sure the ventilation system was clear.

  It felt good to take my NBC mask off. Sweat beaded on my face and could feel the indentation on the sides of my face where the mask created a seal. I grabbed a can of fruit cocktail from the shelf. There were other things to eat, but I remembered how much Kara loved the stuff. That was the only reason I had it in here.

  “Fruit cocktail okay?” I set the can down on a nearby table and found the opener. Even though I was out of prison, the food looked about the same.

  “Yeah, fruit cocktail is cool,” Jared said. “Thanks, Lucas.”

  I spooned out three servings of the stuff and passed two to Danni and Jared. They nodded and began eating.

  “We can sleep here tonight,” I said between bites, “but tomorrow I’m leaving. I need to see my family.”

  “Your family?” Danni asked. “You have family out there?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “My wife, Lisa and my daughter, Kara.”

  “They don’t live here with you?” Jared asked. His mouth was stu
ffed with fruit.

  “No,” I answered. “They left me before I went away.”

  “That happens,” Danni said. “My parents split up when I was twelve. Sorry.”

  My phone sat on the table. Danni noticed as she looked around the room.

  “Is that your cell phone?” Danni asked and walked towards the table it sat on. I snatched it off the table before she could reach the phone.

  “Don’t touch that,” I said. Seeing the look on Danni’s face, I added, “Uh, please? These things probably won’t work much longer, if at all.” I opened it and looked at the text message on the screen. Kara’s simple words wound steel straps around my heart and twisted. I would tell her that I loved her soon.

  “That looked like a text message,” Jared said. He took his phone out of his pocket. “But I guess you’re right. I don’t have any bars on my phone, either.”

  I wanted to change the subject. “Once we know what’s going on out there, we can figure out what our next move is.”

  “How are we going to do that?” Jared asked. “All the radio and television stations were nothing but static.”

  “Regular radios maybe,” I agreed. I pointed towards a boxy HAM radio in the corner of the bunker. I had pieced this one together myself, swapping out parts and antenna to make it broadcast further.

  “Does it work?” Danni asked.

  “Let’s find out.” I walked over to the radio. Static crackled through the receiver. I checked a few channels. It was more of the same.

  “Wait, go back.” Jared rushed towards the radio. “There was something there. Go back. Go back.”

  Underneath the electronic fuzz, I could hear that Jared was right. There was a voice, maybe even more than one.

  “Can you talk to them?” Danni asked.

  “Not right now. I think the ash and storm are screwing with the signal,” I said. “I’ve got an idea on how we can boost the signal tomorrow. Probably not a good idea try and fly a kite tonight.”