Second Dead

By T Francis Sharp

Sometimes, dead just isn’t dead enough.
Seventeen-year-old Annabel and her family have survived six months of the zombie apocalypse by stealth and cunning. However, Dad has a plan.
Annabel has far bigger problems than zombies.
Souls deprived of the ‘good death’ seek out Annabel to help them move on. Release, they demand.
They demand it of her.
Annabel’s mom has a secret, and an antidote, sans one important measurement. Annabel doesn’t know it, but her nightmares hold the key to deciphering the medicine’s ‘wanting measure’.
Annabel must complete the remedy if the infected are to have any chance of surviving. To do that she must stay alive. Worse still, she discovers death is not the exit it once was. Annabel must reopen the path to the afterlife before they all face the horror of becoming second dead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T Francis Sharp
• Release date: Oct 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311605870

T Francis Sharp

Thanks to a disobedient older brother and the magic of drive-in theatres, Tim has been fascinated with zombies since the tender age of nine. He spent twenty years in the dowdy world of manufacturing writing fiction to justify questionable management decisions, attaining the zombie-esque position of vice-president of production planning at the age of thirty-six. In 2003, Tim decided a change was in order and procured a paper route. In all fairness, he wasn’t the only person who failed to see the imminent demise of newsprint. There was another guy, somewhere.Tim lives in St. Louis Mo. with his lovely wife and three sons.

Book preview

Chapter 1: Home

First frost. The very event anticipated by us inhabitants of number 7 Lucky Lane. Crouched in front of the gate, I waited for the word to go. I pinched a frozen blade of grass and watched my warmth melt the ice.

Life among the undead wasn’t bad enough for my father today. A smart man would have said, just off the damn thing and move on. But no, today he wanted to capture one. Goddamnit.

Chris, my older brother by two years, crept along the fence toward me. I turned to talk to Dad but he faced the other way. Theo, Chris’s best friend since, well, forever, ran along the fence headed toward us.

Dad, what’s the point? It’s dead, I said.

Anna, the point is, he whispered while he peered through the fence slats, it’s Calvin.

I don’t think--

And, he cut across me. His breath fogged the space between us in the chill morning air. I owe it to him. Besides, I need to know.

Theo reached the gate, climbed the apple tree, and peered into the street and churchyard beyond. All clear, he whispered.

Right, Dad said. We all know what to do. So let’s go, and be quiet.

My sister Susan fitted an arrow to her bow and stood over me. I glanced up and for a brief moment our eyes met. Bitch. The word floated through my mind. Time, that cure for all hurts, rendered hazy my memory of the events which caused our rift. Silly, but the anger remained.

Dad unlocked the gate. Mindful of the squeak, he pushed forward, careful to hold the door just right. We filed out and proceeded down the street.

There he is. Chris nodded toward Calvin.

My heart pounded as I stared at the beast, which had once been our neighbor. Pallid skin hung loosely over an emaciated frame. No longer a rich ebony, its skin had begun the transformation to moaner grey. Shit, that means it’s at least three months dead. How the hell did it find its way back here?

Damn, I can smell it from here, Theo whispered as an ammonia rich stench of decay wafted over us.

It’d fed recently. I shuddered.

Shhh, there’s two more in the churchyard, Dad said.

Far away, but uncomfortably close. We had three minutes tops, to collect our quarry and get back under cover. Okay, let’s do this, I said.

I handed Dad our fireplace tongs when we entered Calvin’s yard. The moaner that had once been Calvin had its back to us. Theo stomped past me and leaped in front of the beast.

Theo used his machete to cut off one, then the other of its outstretched hands. Dad and Chris seized its arms. Theo ran forward and grabbed its head by the ears.

Quick, Anna, Dad grunted.

I wrapped my dog’s runner chain around its chest, slipped the clasp into the eyelet and drew the chain taut.

Pull, Theo yelled when his hands began to slip off its head.

I heaved with all my strength. Too hard, I realized after the fact. The moaner toppled onto me. I slammed to the ground. Ooof, escaped my lips. My lungs seized. I struggled to inhale, but breath eluded me.

Dad fell on top of us, his face inches from the beast’s mouth. Chris lifted his foot, smashed down, and crushed the moaner's jaw. Dad rolled off. Theo grabbed it by the legs and pulled it off me.

Theo and Chris seized the moaner’s arms and yanked it upright. Dad took the chain from me while I fought to breathe. I flailed on the ground, desperate to draw a lungful of air. At last, I pulled a ragged gasp, seized the tongs from the grass and staggered to my feet. Lungs on fire, I circled in front of the moaner and grabbed it by the neck.

Two on the road, Theo said. He dropped its arm, and followed by Chris, went after the new threat.

Dad and I worked the beast toward the road. Its handless arms, stripped of menace, flailed to no purpose. The monster snapped its jaws and thrust its neck forward in a vain attempt to reach me. I pushed it backward with the tongs while Dad pulled on the chain.

Chris and Theo made it to the gate. After I passed through, Chris shut the gate and snapped the lock closed with a reassuring click.

Anna, the tree. Dad nodded to the gumball tree in our front yard.

Theo and Chris took hold of the arms and helped push it across the yard. I shoved it against the tree. Dad proceeded to wrap the chain around both the tree and moaner. Finished, he stepped back and we all let go. Its arms thrashed about and it snapped its jaws at us, but it wasn’t going anywhere.

Dad duct taped the moaner’s neck to the tree. Much too loud, the sound of tape ripping from the roll echoed across the yard. Satisfied the head was secure, he cut the tape.

He turned to me and in between pants said, Well, that was easy. He took off his cap to reveal a shock of greasy, dirt blond hair and wiped perspiration from his forehead and neck.

I sure hope it’s fucking worth it, I said while I fought the urge to vomit.

Theo flashed a smile. Oh ho, quite the potty mouth today. I like it. Kinda turns me on.

Park that thing before I cut it off, Dad said with a warning glance to Theo. And, Anna, watch your language.

I just don’t see--

We're not done yet, Dad cut across me. Again. We have to make sure it’s not gonna walk if it breaks free.

Got it. Theo ran toward the front door.

Chris, Dad called to my brother, who stood behind the beast and held its wallet. Dad’s brow furrowed in bemusement. What are you doing, son?

Chris opened the wallet and sighed. He glanced up to see Dad and me staring at him. He owed me and Chet fifty bucks for his lawn.

Dad gazed at me, his mouth open. I gaped at Dad, and we both turned to Chris.

Theo emerged from the house and burst into laughter. Dad and I joined in. Chris, Calvin’s wallet in hand, appeared perplexed for a moment before realization crept over his face. He too joined in the laughter, which seemed as infectious as the plague that had engulfed our world.

Theo struggled to speak. What a moron. He stopped laughing, aware of the danger. Only you.

Okay, let’s wrap this up, Dad said. Theo, you know what to do?

Yes sir. He hefted a sledgehammer over his shoulder.

Dad and Chris headed for the front door. I had the unfortunate task of being Theo’s, as Dad called it, outdoors buddy. I turned away and put my fingers in my ears, having no desire to witness the gruesome job Theo had to perform.

Chapter 2: Outside

Dad was not happy about the time lost. However, as morning wore on, the temperature climbed past forty. It became evident the big freeze had not yet arrived. He decided there would be no forays today. Already up for the better part of twenty hours, he retired downstairs to get what sleep he could.

A tree house built around a cottonwood in our backyard made for a vital asset in these troubled times. The playhouse stood ten feet off the ground. A rope ladder provided the only access. From there, Susan could climb to the top of the tree.

Susan was my younger sister by two years. Already tall, she had long, straight, black hair and Asian eyes set above a perfect nose along with full, pouting lips. At fifteen, she resembled Mom the most. She had grown to be the quintessential Asian-American beauty and she knew it. Being fun, vivacious, popular, and beautiful no longer counted for much and Susan struggled to adapt. As unalike as two sisters could be, I had my dad’s, well, everything. Except height. There I was all Vietnamese.

The noise at Calvin's had not attracted any unwanted attention. With Susan on watch, the twins, Laura and George, played in the yard as quietly as nine-year-olds could manage. We set about our chores.

Theo and I hauled water from rain barrels. We took full buckets to the patio where Mom strained out bugs and debris before adding bleach. Then we took the buckets into the house and poured them into the bathtub. After several trips, the tub was full.

Well, we have plenty of water, Theo said and sat on the toilet seat.

There’s still the rainwater from the front. Think my mother will let us use some to take a bath? I gazed at my grubby reflection in the mirror.

I don’t think Dragonzilla will give up a drop of water until it snows.

I smiled. Theo acted brave when Mom wasn't around, but when she was, he became all, Yes, ma'am, no, ma'am. What a punk. I think she scared him more than the moaners.

I’ve got to get out of here soon or I’ll lose my mind, I said, more to my reflection than to Theo. I put both hands on the sink and leaned forward to stretch my back.

A few weeks left and then we’re off to your grandparent’s farm, Theo replied. His eyes lingered over my outstretched figure.

I found myself irritated with Theo. He didn’t understand. No one did. This house had become a prison. More than that, I felt compelled to leave. I might not make it a few more weeks.

Come on. We’re done with our work until your dad wakes up. We have to get back outside before your mom figures out we’re gone. Let’s go see if anything’s on the radio.

Theo scooted past me into the hallway. He seemed to sense I wasn’t following so he turned and said, Come on, outdoors buddy.

Fine. With one final look in the mirror, I pushed away from the sink.

We walked past the thing that had once been Calvin: a man, a neighbor, and a friend. It could no longer stand. Held fast against the tree, its handless arms flailed in the afternoon sun. The beast appeared comical. No, scratch that. The sight broke my heart.

There she is. Theo caressed what remained of his car.

Theo arrived at our house in a most unexpected manner. When he crashed through our fence, his car, damaged beyond repair, came to rest in our yard, never to move again. The hood, bent and twisted off its hinges, came complete with a shattered, yet animated corpse. Most of the front grill was missing. All four tires were flat. Still, as Theo liked to say, it had a new battery and a great stereo.

We got into the car and Theo began to change stations. We listened for any signs of a broadcast. George ran up to my window and put his hands on the glass. He puckered his lips, pressed them against the window, kissed the glass a few times and ran off, seemingly pleased with his wit. Just a few more weeks, I reminded myself.

So, what’s with the stiff? Theo asked.

Dad--Well, Mother really, wants to make sure he’s right about the cold.

Theo turned to the moaner. I’m sure he’s right, it only makes sense.

You know my mother, she wants to be sure.

Theo snorted. Yeah, in the meantime we have a moaner inside the fence.

Still, she’s right. We need to know how long it will take these things to freeze. Besides, Calvin and Dad were tight.

I offered to poke it.

Yeah, he did. Theo could be surprisingly sympathetic about such things.

Well, we have ten minutes before the E.B.S. comes on. You want to listen to some music?

I would, if you had any real music in this piece of crap. This time I was the one pleased with my wit.

Suit yourself. Pretending to be hurt, he tuned the radio again.

You had another nightmare last night, he said after he had run the dial.

Yeah, the pool of blood dream again.

Theo glanced at me and then tried the radio again.

It just had to be that dream. Remarkable in its consistency, the nightmare, dream, vision, whatever I elected to call it, disturbed my soul and left me drained.

The voices were the worst of it. A billion voices called my name from a miasmal pool of blood and demanded succor of me. How I knew the number to be a billion I didn’t know. It just felt right. The dreams were getting worse, too. No, more vivid. My dreams were becoming clearer, more real.

At two o’clock, Theo switched to the Emergency Broadcasting Station.

Broadcasting live from Hermann, Missouri--

Crap. Last week they were in Sullivan, Theo said.

They’re being pushed farther and farther out, I said, stating the obvious.

Shhh, he hissed.

"--it’s been reported the Governor of Illinois died three nights ago when his evacuation compound was overrun. Although official verification is pending, an Illinois National Guard spokeswoman has confirmed the destruction of the base.

"On the Missouri side of the river, a shoot on sight order has been reissued for the following counties: St Charles, Jefferson, Franklin, Warren, Lincoln, and St Louis.

All law enforcement and armed service units operating in or around these areas have been ordered by the Central States Emergency Containment Command to shoot anyone trying to flee the quarantined areas. A CenCom Spokesman issued a statement last night reminding all units both inside and outside the contamination zone that enabling, or by inaction allowing, survivors to leave the infested zone is punishable by summary execution.

I snorted. Infested, that's what the authorities called it when they had to admit they had lost control of an area and were reduced to shooting and bombing everything in sight.

Holding the line north to south along highway 19, all citizens east of the highway have been advised by the Governor’s office that services cannot be provided until control is restored. The Governor’s office further announced that the Eastern Command of the Missouri National Guard has been dissolved. All command and control responsibilities have been transferred to Mo. Guard Ozark.

Yeah right. Destroyed more like it.

This station will cease broadcasting from this location. We will resume transmitting Thursday, at the top of every hour, from the city of Linn. Now, news from western Missouri.

Theo turned the radio off. Linn’s too far to pick up the broadcast.

Linn’s well past the farm, too. We are completely outside the pale now.

Well, that’s good in a way. You heard them. The Army’s out of control. Shoot on sight. Theo snorted.

They’ve been doing that for a while. I sighed and let my gaze rest on the moaner.

Mom pounded on my window and yelled, Run, run.

I jumped out and followed her through the front door. She ran into the kitchen to tape up the spy holes and close the heavy curtains. We each ran to different rooms to do the same.

Finished, I waited at the top of the stairs. The house secure, we went down to the basement and into the back storeroom. The light of a single candle illuminated the room.

What’s wrong? I demanded.

A horde, Mom whispered.

Chapter 3: Horde

Dad sat on a milk crate, rubbed his eyes and said, Susan, tell me what you saw.

Susan and Mom spread out blankets on the floor. Before Susan answered, she sat down and pulled George next to her.

She stroked his black hair. Dad, the herd’s huge. I’ve never seen anything like it. Thousands. Tens of thousands, I think.

What direction?

Right at us. Her eyes widened with fright. I saw them up on the golf course. They’re moving across the open spaces, the commons, even through the neighborhood along the greens. It’s packed. At least a mile wide. And-- and they’re headed right at us.

I drew a straight line in my head. They’re coming from the city. Must be hungry.

Dad, I saw something else. Two military vehicles. Humvee’s, I think. They drove all crazy like, weaving across the greens, speeding up, slowing down, and I swear I heard one honking its horn.

Were they chasing the herd? Dad asked.

No, that’s the thing. They taunted the moaners. Like a game, daring them to give chase.

I tried to make sense of this. From the city, across us, and to? Where? The river.

Someone’s playing Pied Piper. Everyone turned toward me. They’re headed straight for the river. Don’t you get it? If you follow it in a straight line, that’s where they’ll end up. At the bluffs. I guess they hope these things will walk off the cliffs and crash to pieces on the rocks below.

Like lemmings, Chris whispered.

Mom sat Laura down next to her. She whispered soothing words in her ear while she tried to encourage Laura to relax and not cry. However, Laura wasn’t the one who cried.

Susan couldn’t hold back her tears. I gazed at her with pity.

Susan, I know you’re scared, but-- Dad didn’t get the chance to finish.

Da-- Dad, Susan sobbed, I panicked.

Chris soothed her. It’s okay. You warned us. We made it inside. We're safe. That’s what counts.

That’s not it. When I came down, I-- I was so scared. I forgot to reverse the flag, Susan whimpered.

Stunned silence. They don’t know what’s coming, she cried.

There were two other families holding out in our neighborhood, the Bulgers and the Spells. The Bulgers were a rough family. Although Kurt, Kevin, and Klara were about the same age as us, we knew the boys by sight only. Kurt and Kevin both served time in juvie and had a reputation for trouble. Klara was shy, subdued, and never seemed to leave her house except for school. According to Susan, school attendance was inconsistent.

Dad and Mr. Bulger had devised an early warning system. Each day at the same time, we watched our end of the subdivision while they did the same on theirs. Simple really, a red flag meant danger and yellow signaled all’s clear. Well, as clear as possible these days. No flag meant no one was on watch.

The Spells moved into the neighborhood just months before everything fell apart. Dad knew where they lived but at over a mile away, we never saw them.

Dad gazed at Susan. It’s okay. The flag’s just one layer of our warning system. The Bulgers are survivors. If they’re vigilant, they’ll see it coming. After all, it’s a mile of open road and a clear view before the moaners reach their house.

Dad’s voice faded as he raised his eyes to the ceiling. Depending on how fast the herd moved the moaners could be here in minutes.

Dad and Chris left the room and went upstairs. Knife in hand, I walked across the basement to hover at the bottom of the steps. Theo, who took his outdoors buddy responsibility way too seriously in my opinion, joined me.

Tense minutes turned into an hour. Outside, the sun began its descent below the horizon. The basement fell deeper into darkness. The last of the daylight faded when Dad and Chris crept back downstairs. Theo and I turned and walked into the safe room.

We saw them on the hill before the light faded, Chris whispered. Just a few, but more and more followed. It’s just a matter of time now.

Hey Chris, what you have for lunch today? Theo sniggered.

Beans and gravy, Chris answered, confused at first, but in short order realized why Theo asked.

Me too. Gonna be a stinker in here, he said with a mischievous grin.

I stretched out and put my head on Susan’s lap. She didn’t complain. I lay still and listened for sounds from the world outside. Not quite asleep, I wandered in the magical realm between sleep and wakefulness.

I woke to the faintest of moans. I sat up and listened. When there were a few moaners about, the sighs and moans were almost musical, like a pipe organ played by a wayward child. Each moaner rasped a particular rhythm, its pitch rose and fell while it worked its mouth and legs like some accursed accordion. I could tell how fast a moaner moved by the length of its moan: Out, in, out, in.

Moaners didn’t breathe in the true sense. No, the motion of their legs worked muscles and forced air in and out of their lungs to create a low, eerie moan as air passed through vocal cords the undead were powerless to control. Night closed in around us and the moans attained the level of a low, all pervasive howl.

On and on it went, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. Individual moans combined with others for brief moments to change the overall pitch, only to fall apart and submerge back into the unceasing drone.

This short, sudden change is what unnerved me the most. When it happened, my heart skipped a beat and pounded faster while my body responded with ever increasing distress. Hours crawled by as this horde from hell stumbled past.

I turned to lie on my side. Theo sat in his chair, alert and tense. Candlelight flickered in his dark eyes. The twitch from his left eye betrayed the fear he felt. He was the only one of us who had ever been out among a mass of moaners and the experience scarred him. This, his personal trauma, only became apparent at times like these.

Soon, so many moaners pressed against the walls that the house quivered under the weight of their pressed flesh. They walked past like an incoming tide parted by a rock in the sand. Siding tore loose as moaners clawed and pulled their wretched bodies along the house.

Midnight came and went and still the moaners passed. Mom lay next to me, her back pressed against mine. She had the twins with her under the blanket we shared. At last, I fell asleep.

Voices. Again with the fucking voices. I once more suffered the eerie, disembodied murmurs that haunted the darkest crevices of my subconscious. The voices emanated from a nebulous pool of dark seething blood. Shimmering in the brumous incorporeality of the fantasy realm of nightmarish visions my mind inflicted on my subconscious, the voices cried out for attention. Release, they demanded.

They demanded it of me.

Chapter 4: Downstairs

I don’t know how much time passed before I woke up. Hours, days, it didn’t matter. I lay numb with the terror of it all. I wanted to scream. To run upstairs and pound on the windows and command these abominations to leave. Nightmares, my nightmares, were bad enough, but to awaken to find reality no less terrifying, tested my endurance. Sweet, silent death would be welcome. Death would remove me from the terror and hopelessness of my life.

Wake up, we have the watch, Mom whispered.

I yawned and sat up to rub sleep from my eyes. Mom and I were the only ones awake. She reached into a cooler, pulled out a rice ball and handed it to me. Not hungry, I took it anyway. I knew she wouldn’t stop until I ate something.

I nodded and stared at my mother, who refused to make eye contact. She had been crying. She’d taken to crying every morning since Chet died. Chet was my older brother, the oldest in fact. His loss haunted her and turned her cold. Ruthless you might say; she wasn’t going to lose another child. Her morning sob was the only sign of weakness she allowed herself these days.

Eat, Annabel, she said in her curt manner. I sighed. I use to be Bel dear, but since Chet’s death, I was just Annabel.

Illuminated by the candle light, Mom appeared old, her soft Vietnamese face worn and weary. I could tell she hadn’t slept since before we retreated to the basement.

She pointed toward the water heater, stood up, and walked over to blow out the candle. A weak beam of light streamed through the exhaust vent. How long we watched over the others, I do not know. Time ceases to make sense in situations like this.

Mom tried to stay awake. Her chin would fall to her chest and jerk back up while she fought against the inevitable. She succumbed to sleep just as the rain started.

Susan woke up soon after. She sat up and her wide eyes darted around the room. What time is it?

Dunno. I pointed to the light cascading through the vent. It's daytime at least.

I stood up, stepped over Chris, and dropped down next to her. I put my arm around her. It’s raining.

She gazed up. Yeah, I can hear it. She put her arm around me. We hugged.

I’m scared, she whispered.

I know. It’s going to be all right though. We’re going to get through this.

She pulled away and we stared at each other. In the dim light, I could tell Susan had changed.