Fat Zombie: Stories of Unlikely Survivors from the Apocalypse

By Paul Mannering

With the theme of unlikely survivors of the apocalypse, the stories in Fat Zombie will enthrall you and have you rooting for the little guy.

Featuring tales of the elderly, the disabled, the developmentally challenged as well as losers, geeks, and social outcasts, all trying to survive in a world where the rules have changed.

With an introduction by Bram Stoker Award winner and bestselling zombie author, Joe McKinney, Fat Zombie includes stories by award winning authors of the weird and the horrific such as Martin Livings and Dan Rabarts. This is a unique collection that steps away from the usual conventions and tropes of apocalypse fiction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Permuted
• Release date: Jan 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781618684370

Book preview

A PERMUTED PRESS book

Published at Smashwords

ISBN (Trade Paperback): 978-1-61868-438-7

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-437-0

Fat Zombie copyright © 2014

Edited by Paul Mannering

All Rights Reserved.

Cover art by David Walker

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Denial

Jay Wilburn

Awakening in a Dead City

Timothy Johnson

In the Land of Siriad

Vincent L. Scarsella

Perfect

Rachel Aukes

On The Road to Chattanooga

Tony Sarrecchia

Peer In The Woods

Zakary McGaha

Pieces of First!

Michael W. Clark

El Caballo Muerte

Martin Livings

Endgame

Dan Rabarts

Mr. Schmidt’s Dead Pet Emporium

Sally McLennan

The New Dark Ages

Stephen Kozeniewski

Author Biographies

Denial

by Jay Wilburn

She woke up to the sun streaming over the dust particles in the air through the bedroom window. Her alarm, her husband, and her dog had all failed to wake her on time. She sat up weary and shook Bert’s shoulder. He didn’t acknowledge her. She decided if he was still down when she finished getting ready, she would make him get up.

The room was hot and it smelled. She didn’t have time to clean the house like she used to with as much as she had to work. The new principal was a slave driver and he didn’t care that she didn’t have time to clean her house properly. The classroom teachers did not know how lucky they had it. She had to be at his call daily.

When she got in the bathroom, she already didn’t like what she saw in the mirror. Getting old sucked. She had her eyebrow liner tattooed on a few years ago, but it had not stopped her face from aging.

She started with her make-up. She couldn’t quite get her lipstick lined up. Each time she tried, she just kept making the lines wider around her mouth. She finally gave up and looked for tissue to wipe it off and start over. There were none in the box and an empty roll by the toilet.

She called, Bert, we’re out of tissue.

He gave the same answer he always did. She knew he would forget and it would be up to her to take care of it after a full day’s work. She was worried that he was losing it a little. She tried not to worry about that too much.

She finally found her toothbrush. She called, Never mind, Bert, I found it myself.

She put her toothpaste on the brush and went through her routine. She spit it out and gagged. It tasted funny and burned her mouth. She wiped her tongue off on a towel. The towel smelled. She made a mental note to take care of that too.

She tried to read the tube, but she couldn’t make it out without her glasses. She set it down and looked at herself in the mirror.

She didn’t particularly like what she saw. Her lipstick wasn’t straight, but her eyebrows looked good. It would have to do because she was running late.

She turned the knobs to get the shower started warming up. To continue the theme of her bad day, the water wouldn’t come on.

Bert, I told you to check on the water, she called.

She went ahead and sat down on the toilet to wait for the shower to warm up.

After her shower, she came back out and spent about an hour trying to decide on clothes. Nothing was where she had left it and the laundry she had put away wasn’t in the right place. Once she was dressed, she realized she must have left her glasses at work.

She shook Bert gently on the shoulder and kissed his cheek, Don’t be late, honey. The alarm has already gone off. Have a good day.

Once she was downstairs, she opened the refrigerator and realized the bulb had gone out. Bert was already gone to work. She’d have to tell him when he got home. They needed to go grocery shopping after work.

Bert had already eaten and had left the table and paper, a mess for her. She picked up her eyeglasses and read the sections of newspaper she could find. After breakfast, she tried to clean up a little.

She had to wave swarms of fruit flies away from her face over the dishes in the sink. A couple roaches scattered when she accidentally knocked a tea pitcher full of mold on to the floor.

She saw that Bert had at least fed the dog. The kids were already out back playing with him. She called out, You kids play nice. She’s getting very old.

Something about the kids walking in the backyard struck her as odd. She thought about it for a while, but then wandered into the garage. Bert hadn’t pulled the car in last night.

As she left out the front door, she called upstairs, Bert, be sure the kids get to school on time. Randy’s out in the tree house.

The car was by the street against the mailbox. The brick of the mailbox had collapsed on one side. It would have to be fixed this weekend. The driver’s door was open and Bert was leaning over the steering wheel waiting for her.

She opened the passenger door and sat beside him. He was adjusting the radio, but had it turned so low she couldn’t hear it. She hated his talk stations anyway.

She looked in the backseat and saw that the dog was lying on its side sleeping. The open sores on its side were not healing well. If they could scratch together enough money, they would have to go to the vet soon. Their daughter’s braces and band fees were tightening the budget. She would be starting college soon.

Finally, she said, Bert, we have to get going. I’m going to be late. Marion is coming home from college this weekend. She’s going to want lasagna.

When she looked up again, she realized they were stuck because of the traffic. Down one way, the neighborhood street was blocked by some utility work. There was a fire truck across the road. Some workers were lying around on the ground performing some service on the street. A telephone pole was across the road and resting on top of the neighbor’s sports car.

Up the other way, a group of people were walking down the street in some sort of parade. They were walking very slowly in her direction.

She said, Bert, I’m sorry, I can’t wait for all this. I’m going to walk in to work today. Remember to pick up Marion from daycare. I have parent conferences today.

She walked down the sidewalk away from the parade that was spreading up onto the lawns on her side of the street.

The streets were clear once she got out of her neighborhood, but foot traffic was bad. People kept getting in her way and she could barely get around them.

The kids came riding up in the truck with oversized wheels. They were badly behaved and made fun of her all the time. They were not grateful for the education she had given them or the fancy truck their parents bought them.

As they pulled up, they were throwing firecrackers. She covered her ear and one of the men behind her hit her as he tripped and fell on the ground.

She turned and saw other pedestrians had laid down when they heard the firecrackers. These kids should be ashamed of themselves.

You kids have no shame, she snapped at them.

One of the kids in the truck started to get out and said, Wait, Grandma, we want to talk to you.

That girl was the worst. She wore tight, black clothes that showed way too much detail about her body. Riding in a truck with all those boys too. What were her parents thinking letting her do that?

You’re going to end up pregnant riding in cars with boys, young lady, she added.

The boys had the nerve to laugh at her.

One of them yelled, That’s right. You tell her, grandma!

They threw a couple more firecrackers. Shame on all of them.

The girl said, Mrs. Dougherty, will you come with us today?

I have work today, young lady, and you need to get to school, Mrs. Dougherty said.

Let us give you a ride to work, the slutty girl offered.

Mrs. Dougherty accused, Do your parents know you are associating with these boys?

One of the boys sneered, Our parents were eaten by zombies.

The slutty girl snapped, Shut up, Kevin.

Mrs. Dougherty began walking again. The slutty girl called, Wait, Mrs. Dougherty, you forgot your bag.

Mrs. Dougherty stopped and checked. She had dropped her bag. She turned around and took it from the girl. She opened it to be sure everything was still inside.

The girl said, There are some fresh clothes, toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, and food.

Mrs. Dougherty said, I just went to the market. It’s not polite to go through other people’s things.

The girl paused for a second, I’m sorry, Mrs. Dougherty. My mom wanted to see you. Would you accept a ride to our parent conference?

I’ll get there on my own and we’ll be talking about this business about riding with boys then too, Mrs. Dougherty threatened.

Kevin called from the truck, Alice, let’s go. We can’t wait for them to get us. We need to load the turbines and get back by dark.

We can’t leave her, Alice said.

We leave her every day, Kevin shouted, She’s made it this long; she’ll probably outlive us all.

The way you kids behave, I probably will, Mrs. Dougherty shouted.

They all laughed at her again.

Alice gave Mrs. Dougherty a hug and said, Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Dougherty.

You better see me at school today, Alice, Mrs. Dougherty scolded, You are a good girl. You shouldn’t let these boys talk you into skipping school.

Yes, ma’am, Alice said as she headed back to the truck.

Mrs. Dougherty watched them drive away. She turned and continued toward school. The town needed to be cleaned. Lots of businesses were abandoned, litter covered the streets, cars were parked illegally, and water had backed up in the drains.

Men were just wandering around behind buildings and off in the woods doing God only knew what. They would watch her as she went by and sometimes they even followed her for a while. This was a very bad sign for the town.

Her sister was a real estate agent. When they got ready to buy their house, her sister had told her, Gail, you need to drive through the neighborhood in the middle of the day. If there are men walking around, that’s a bad sign. Men that are not at work in the middle of the day will become burglars.

Now that Marion was about to start kindergarten, Gail and Bert were concerned about what was happening in their town. There had been break-ins at other houses. Just the other day, a big group of men had tried to break into their house in the middle of the night while they were there. Marion was trying to drive home with the grandkids, but Bert was worried she wouldn’t make it. He told her to stay where she was. He had to shoot the burglars. One of them had bitten Bert. Now there were tough choices to make.

In these economic times, there were lots of tough choices to make. Bert and Gail Dougherty were going to have to put off buying the RV a little while longer and both work for a few more years. Marion kept pushing them to cut back, to go ahead and draw their pensions, to spend more time with the grandkids, and to travel while they could still enjoy it. Bert had said that they might have to share the dog’s food, if they retired now.

Gail wanted Marion and the kids to come out to see them more often. The last time they tried to come, they didn’t make it.

She finally arrived at the school. Someone had broken into the sign and had stolen the letters. There were cars parked in the bus lane. She would have to make an announcement to get parents to move their cars.

Mrs. Dougherty had to push her way past the car riders waiting around the front of the school. She called to them to watch where they were going.

They just looked at her without saying anything.

She got to the door which was still locked. It had an old push button combination lock. She punched in the code from muscle memory without even looking. The silver buttons locked into place and the door opened. When she turned the handle, the coded buttons popped back out. She stepped in and pulled the door closed. The children tried to follow her in, but she closed the door before they could.

She called out through the wire-laced glass, You have to wait until the bell rings. Tell your parents not to drop you off so early, if you don’t like waiting in the cold. We aren’t babysitters.

The kids kept pulling on the handle and knocking on the glass anyway. Some of them were already taller than her, but they behaved like animals. They had rips in their clothes and some of them wore clothes that were so revealing. All their clothes were dirty and sagging. The administration wasn’t supporting the dress code like they should.

Gail stared at one of them licking the glass leaving a green and black smear behind.

She turned and walked into the office to sign in. She couldn’t read the sheet without her glasses, but she knew where her name had been for years. She put another check on top of the hundreds that were already on that section of the clipboard.

She checked her mailbox on the way out of the main office. It was empty. The elevator wasn’t working again, so she had to take the stairs. She searched around the upstairs only to find that the classroom teachers hadn’t arrived yet. These young kids coming out of college now were not the dedicated, early birds that Gail and her coworkers had been when she came out.

Marion was studying to be a teacher. Marion’s older brother Randy was ten and playing in the tree house. Gail told Marion, if she wanted to be a teacher, she had to be ready to put in the time. It was about the kids and not about the convenience of the teachers that were in it for the benefits and the summers off.

Gail found her office. She went in and closed her door so she wouldn’t have to hear all those awful kids when they came screaming up the hallway. She had a lot of work to do today and all the noise in the hall could be very distracting.

She tried to call the principal’s office, but didn’t get an answer. He must have been out on lunch duty or observing in classrooms. That was good. If he was occupied, she might actually be able to catch up for a change.

Gail sat at her desk and stared at her pictures of Bert, Randy, and Marion. The shaft of sunlight passed across the floor of her office from one corner to the other.

Randy was in the tree house when he was ten. Bert went out and tore down the tree house after the accident. Randy fell so hard. Gail had never been more scared in her life. Marion was five and wouldn’t stop crying. The other teachers at the school were so helpful, kind, and understanding. Even that useless curriculum specialist, who just sat in her office all day, came to check on her. That culture changed when the new principal came. He was a slave driver. Gail had to work all day just to break even. Those young, perky sluts in their short dresses that called themselves teachers had no idea what Gail did all day. She was lucky if she could get up from her desk once all day sometimes.

Gail told Marion, If you’re going to be a teacher, be sure to put in the time and dress professionally.

Marion was studying to be a teacher. She was coming to visit with the grandkids soon. Randy was playing in the tree house. Bert got so mad when she talked about Randy. He was always playing in that tree house that Bert tore down after the accident. Bert’s hand was bitten so badly. Gail had never been so scared in all her life. Marion was five and wouldn’t stop crying. Bert had told her to just stay where she was with the grandkids.

Gail looked at her watch, but couldn’t read it without her glasses. She had left them in her car. She was starving. She had almost worked through lunch. She dug through her bag and pulled out the lunch wrapped in foil. Bert must have wrapped it up. It was ridiculous.

She took her lunch down to the cafeteria. None of her friends were there. She went to the teacher’s lounge. The only teacher there was that terrible man. He was new and she couldn’t remember his name. He was always stealing glances at the slutty girl’s legs and tits. She hated the smell of his cologne. He needed to double up on the shower and skip the musk. He was half the reason the administration needed to be enforcing dress code with the new teachers.

He turned from the drink machine and leered at her. He started walking toward her. She was going to sit down at the table, but walked around it to get out of his way. He knocked over the chair and continued to chase her. He kept staring at her breasts as he pursued her through the lounge. He grabbed her arm and started pulling on her. She shoved him and he stumbled back into the copy machine. Her sleeve tore a little at the cuff. The paper tray fell to the floor with a clatter. His stomach popped inside his shirt and a broad, dark stain spread across the belly of his unpressed clothes.

He came at her again. She was going to report him this time. She had had enough of his advances and his teasing. She put her lunch down and picked up the chair to sit down. She was going to eat and he was going to leave her alone.

He reached for her breasts. She swung the chair up feeling her back wretch in the process. The metal leg connected with the side of his head sending him bumbling back into the bulletin board with the faded, yellow paper, the worker’s comp info, and the sexual harassment policy. His jaw unhinged on one side and four of his front teeth flew across the room and landed on the table with the paper cutter and the die cut letters. One of his eyes slid out of the socket and hung by the gray, dead chord of the optic nerve.

She set the chair down with a wince of pain and carefully slid it under the table. She picked up her foil wrapped lunch