Zombie Maneuvers

By Griffin Carmichael

Before the world fell apart, Janet's life was already indistinguishable from Hell. In Connor, she'd thought she found a strong protector, someone who would take care of her.

What she got was a controlling, brutal man who used and abused her. She felt trapped by her choices and the ravening dead, until the two joined up with some other survivors.

Something changes in Janet as she travels with the group in search of a safe haven. Faced with the horrors of a zombie apocalypse, she begins to see a better path, if she just has the courage to take it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Guthrie Press
• Release date: Jan 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215239445

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The morning the world came to a stumbling, moaning end, Janet Corwin called in sick to work. Her excuse this time was a suspected bladder infection. The truth was, she was pissing blood, and had been all night. She could barely stand up straight, her wrist was bruised and swollen, and her head felt like a Mack truck had driven through it. Twice.

In other words, a typical Monday.

Janet zoned out before the small kitchen window, sipping slowly at a cup of very hot coffee, letting the warmth seep through her body. The sun peeking over the city made her wince, and the sound of the television was pounding in her aching head.

She was about to turn the blasted thing off--she could barely stand to have it on, but Connor couldn't get through the day without the background noise. But he was gone, at work an hour already, and while he was away she could shut off the idiot box. It wouldn't be in her best interest if she forgot to turn it back on, but that was a risk she was willing to take for a little peace and quiet.

The late-breaking news icon that popped up over the local morning news anchor's face made her pause. At the bottom of the screen, text began scrolling from right to left. Janet slowly lowered the remote and read the breaking news text.

Her mind didn't want to process what her eyes were seeing. The scrolling bar was saying something that absolutely could not be real. And it wasn't the first day of April, which ruled out Janet's first thought, that it was some elaborate hoax.

Janet stood numb for a minute while the meaning of the headline began to sink in.

Reports of violent attacks stun officials.

It wasn't the words (flesh-eating mobs) so much as the images that began flashing across the screen that made her finally realize this wasn't a joke. Video from cell phones and news cameras, police dashboard cams and traffic cameras that showed the same things: ordinary people pouncing on other ordinary people, chasing other people. And ripping them to shreds.

When the footage began to replay and the talking heads began to mouth their usual useless commentary, Janet began to move. She went to the small second bedroom--once a dreamed-about future nursery and now a cluttered storeroom--and began to haul out large Rubbermaid containers. She pulled them one-by-one into the living room, roughly sorting them into categories: food, camping equipment, ammo.

The room began to fill as Janet brought in more bins, leaving very little room to walk in. She was surprised at the number of containers, actually. Connor must have added a few when she wasn't around. Especially the ones with the weapons. There had only been four of those, and now there were ten. A small army could have been supplied from those green plastic boxes.

If what Janet suspected about the day's events were true, an army might very well be just what they ended up needing.

* * *

Janet was halfway through checking the inventory list for the various crates when there was a loud squeal of brakes outside. She stepped gingerly around some bins to look out the side window, where she could see not only their narrow driveway, but most of the street leading into their cul-de-sac.

Connor jumped out of his truck and stalked to the tiny garage attached to the side of the Craftsman-style bungalow they rented. He yanked up the wooden door, and she could hear him cursing the fact the thing wasn't electric. She sniffed and turned away. He was the one who had told the landlord he had no use for the garage, and didn't want the door replaced and modernized.

Of course, that was because of the illegal pot farm he had inside, completely outfitted with grow lights and hydroponic tanks. Like most things Conner got interested in, the illegal grow patch had failed, and the garage was now empty except for an old mower and some yard tools.

Janet went back to the list, waiting while Conner parked the truck inside the garage and burst through the kitchen door. She'd finished going through most of the items in the spiral inventory notebook by the time he began yelling for her.

Setting the notebook down on top of a bin marked MRE, Janet went into the kitchen. She stood just inside the door, left arm pressed across her stomach, listing towards the side with the bruised kidney.

There you are. What were you doing, something I ain't supposed to see? Connor sneered at her, his usual expression. It was better than the furious one, but not by much.

I was checking the supplies, Janet said, keeping her voice low.

Connor snorted. Making yourself useful, for a change. Color me shock-and-awed.

Janet ignored the jibe. He'd said worse. You saw the news reports, if you're home this early. Do you think it's for real?

Hell, yeah. I told ya the zombie apocalypse was coming. You thought you knew better, but as usual, you ain't all that smart as you think.

Janet just stood there. She kept her expression neutral, fearful of setting Connor off into one of his cruel phases.

Connor fidgeted for a moment, staring at the reports still scrolling across the television screen before he opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. He busied himself with looking for a bottle opener in the drawer next to the sink, making a big show of popping the top into the stained porcelain basin. Finally, he turned to her and leaned back onto the counter.

Yeah. I do think it's real. I think we're in the shitter for sure, so I told the boss where to shove it and hit the door running. I grabbed a few things on the way out, so if this turns out to be nothing, I'll be looking for a job.

Janet didn't dare show how upsetting this was. If Connor thought for a minute she thought he'd fucked up, bloody piss was going to be only a tiny part of her hurt.

Like, what things? Maybe if she kept him occupied with the story, he'd ignore her for a while longer. Long enough to get through the night, at least.

The keys to the warehouse, and to a couple of the trucks.

Oh, god. He'd likely end up in prison, rather than unemployed. Those keys were zealously guarded, every employee with a set had to sign them in and out daily. The owner of the food distribution center where Connor worked was insanely suspicious of workers stealing food and other items from the warehouse.

What do you think we should do now? Janet finally asked. The news people said FEMA is already setting up safe zones in most cities, trying to get ahead of this--whatever it is.

Connor snorted. "Ain't going to no camp. I figure we should hole up here, wait for a few days to see how it all goes down. Then, if it works out like I think it will, we'll head out of town, hit the hunting shacks up in the mountains.

We can swing by the warehouse, pick out a truck loaded up with all the stuff we'll need for a while. I'll drive it, and you take my truck. Between what that will carry and a full tractor-trailer, we won't be hurting for anything for a long while. Maybe long enough for the stupid government to get its head out its ass and fix things.

Connor finished up the beer and set the bottle behind him on the counter. He didn't bother righting it when it fell over with a harsh tinkle. He never did. That was her job, and he wasn't about to do anything he considered women's work. Janet was used to it, and the action didn't even make a blip in her head as she worked through this latest bump in her very rough life.

The last thing she needed was to be caught up in a medical situation the government couldn't seem to wrap their heads around. There had been chatter about bird flu, radiation from that place in Japan, and the latest fall out from some wonder drug all the Hollywood people were getting high on for the past few weeks, but the last thing she'd expected was for anything to come of it.

To be honest, she hadn't really paid that much attention to any of the news, or the gossip her coworkers filled their time with. Her problems were entirely domestic, and all her energy went to work, home and plans to finally leave Connor behind for good.

Now, with whatever it was that was causing all the terror filling the airwaves, Janet realized that all her planning had been for nothing. The secret stash of money, the furtive explorations into traveling anywhere Connor wouldn't find her. All of it had been washed away by the certainty that her best bet to survive this was with Connor.

Connor of the guns and ammo--which until today she'd firmly believed would be used on her. Connor with his food and other supplies, the extensive camping gear, and the map to an abandoned hunting camp firmly in his head, and nowhere else.

She'd snooped around, looking at property maps and old surveys, and never found any indication of where that precious camp might be. Sometimes she even doubted it existed at all, that it was just something Conner talked about to sound like a smart prepper.

Probably the smartest thing he could have done was keep the location to the camp from her, because if she had more than the vaguest idea where it was, she would use one of his guns and put one of those precious bullets between his eyes.

If she were perfectly honest with herself, Janet knew she should shoot him anyway, and take her chances with the zombies. It was the only sure way to get away from him, as she knew from bitter experience.

The last time she'd tried to run for it, he'd hunted her down within a week. She'd spent the next month in the hospital, recovering from an accident. Connor's story, which she'd overheard the nurses whispering about shortly after she woke from three days in a coma, was that she'd been standing in front of his truck when the brakes failed.

Janet hadn't bothered telling anyone the truth after that, because she could see how the nurses flirted with Connor. He was a handsome man, and perfectly charming when it suited him. It was how he'd caught her, much to her regret. Turning on that aw-shucks-ma'am, I'm just a good ol' country boy act. It worked on women, and on most men.

I hope you don't think that playacting is going to get you out of cooking dinner, or anything else. I'm hungry and I've got a lot of work to do before the night's done.

Conner's abrupt comment as he wandered past her on the way to the living room shook her out of her thoughts with a shudder. She just shook her head and moved towards the stove.

"Of