Suburban Zombies

Seven years ago, which now seems like a lifetime, everything was different. The birds would sing their songs in the morning as I got around for school. I would go downstairs, kiss my mother on her cheek and grab some food for the bus. We would say goodbye for the day with a “See ya later alligator!” and “Not for a while Crocodile!” Our goofy exchange resulted in a giggle from both of us. My mom worked in a big science facility, what exactly she did was confidential. But, I knew it was important. She would leave shortly after I did in the mornings, but most nights she wouldn't be home until after my elder sister and I were in bed. Our Dad worked for the local police department on the night shift, so he would be leaving shortly after dinner and sleeping while we were at school. Everybody’s schedules were so scattered, but we still had the weekends for family time. Family time usually amounted to us helping mom in the garden, or learning “survival skills '' in the woods with dad. Amanda is two years older than me, so she was just about to graduate high school and she planned to move to California in a few months for college. She really made me want to go there too, but I think that was just so we wouldn't be so far away.

Now I come down in the morning, there are no birds and there is no mother to greet me. I never knew that last morning when she kissed my cheek and hugged me extra tight would be the last time I’d see her. I still remember her, clear as day. Long, wavy blonde hair. She was taller than me then, but I think I'm taller now. I remember her small frame, and how her shoulders would poke when she squeezed you tight. Her scent of daisies and powder perfume mixed was always so calming to me. She would always wear this locket that my sister Amanda got for her, a small metal heart with a picture of her and I together, and then a picture of mom and dad together. I wish I could at least find the necklace, so I can hold onto their faces. I’m 23 now, I’ve been alone for about six years. It’s been hard getting used to my own company. I can’t play music too loudly or I'll attract more zombies towards me. I have worked hard at pretty much clearing my neighborhood from zombie swarms, but occasionally there will be a straggler. I read a lot, mostly the same books we have had just collecting dust on the shelves for years. I also read all of the school books Amanda had, any of Mon’s books from when she finished her doctorate and all of Dad’s survival books and magazines. I always find it ironic how prepared my parents made me for this. I don’t know if they knew of the possibility, because Dad really cracked down on it when we moved here for Moms new job.

I circle our block and surrounding neighborhood almost daily, hoping to find my lost family. Amanda left with a group of people claiming they were some sort of disciples from God, and that they only knew the true way to navigate this apocalypse. She was really last after Mom was gone. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. They were going west, but I feel she's long gone by now. And if I did find her, I don’t know if she would come with me. My Dad was killed in the airstrike. About a year after Amanda left, the infected rate was so high that the military decided they were just going to reign fire on us. My Dad, thinking he would be fine, didn’t take cover. He was trying to evacuate as many people as he could, just in case. I mean, we never really expected them to do it. Most of the people in our town are descendants of the original founders that have lived here since 1835. They were so stubborn they waited until the last possible minute to get out, sadly costing my Father his life, it’s hard to be too sad at such a heroic end. That really sums my Dad up, the Hero of Gull Cove, Arkansas. I thought it was made up until I felt the rumble of the Earth when they were getting closer. I was in the basement of my high school, we were in our last class for the year when the alarm sounded. Classmates screaming and trying to run as fast as possible to our rehearsed “safe zone”. The students all initially survived, and we were transported by bus to a refuge area thirty miles out of town. It was about a week before the teachers would allow us to be brought to our homes, they said it was because they weren’t sure of the damage. I don’t know what happened to my classmates, I haven't seen any of them since I was brought home to an empty house.

I should have been keeping a journal this whole time with all these crazy things that happen to me. If society ever comes back from this Zombie infested world, they’d need an account of what happened right? It didn’t start as Zombies, I have to remember that. At first the animals all started getting sick. Acting “wild”; so they would bring them to my moms facility, and she would run tests and make them better (That’s all she was legally allowed to tell me, and I left it at that) but then a few weeks later the news had reports of “Illegal testing” happening in those labs. Genetic modification, and just experimenting in general, to find out what was making them sick and how to get better. I overheard my mom on the phone one particular evening, yelling at who I assume is her lab tech assistant.

“No! I don't care if you think it won’t work. Take all of our notes and put them in that place we discussed. It’s critical work. No.. No what do you think they’ll need to fix everything, yeah our notes. Now save them!” She had hung up the phone very angrily, but didn’t see me eavesdropping.

A few weeks later, the supermarket is out of meat, because the animals were all getting sick. Now this was a big deal, because almost everyone here relied on the market. Also, we were advised not to hunt because they could be infected too, and they just can’t tell what would happen yet. Nobody really knew what was happening with these infected animals, like what was so dangerous about them? Well, one of the town crazies, Alfred Clark, recorded an infected deer attacking other animals. I personally did not watch the video, but from what I hear it was awful and terrifying. After Alfred leaked the video, it was flagged and he disappeared. Someone even filed a missing persons report and posted flyers looking for him. My Mom disappeared shortly after the first few human infections started, I don’t know the connection there, but I just have that feeling it is. Somehow. That weird phone call is what solidifies that in my mind. I hope I’ll find her, but I try not to dwell too much.

I’ve been here by myself so long that I have about cleaned out my supplies. I already went through everyone’s houses for their canned goods and toiletries, it did take a while to get to every house in the neighborhood. It was hard to kill the zombies at first, my parents' friends and my teachers are always the worst but I didn’t recognize a lot of them until after. Once I got through that hesitation it was easier to predict where they would hide and what to watch for, but soon I’ll have to leave here and I don’t know what to expect from them. Maybe they’re more docile because there’s a smaller number of them. I’ve been studying maps, and found a huge radio that truck drivers used before, that I have been listening in on. I heard a couple automated sounding messages talking about a safe haven in Turtle Bay, Illinois. I tried to call out to people on the frequency but nobody answered, hopefully not because they turned into Zombies too. It's quite a ways away, but I still have my Dad’s off duty vehicle that has a full tank of gas. I’m thinking I can load it up and drive right there and make it before I run out, but have everything so I can carry it if I need to. I start going through the house so I can grab any essentials, plus a couple sentimental items since I am the last of my family. I make a deal with myself to bring one important thing for each of us. I take a few photos as well, so I can’t forget their faces. I pack my food, some in a go bag with my clothes and extra ammo, knives and a first aid kit. I have a pocket hammock I pack, along with a fire starter and a dark blanket. I fill the car with more of the canned food I scavenged, and my go bag in the passenger seat. I turned around to take a final walk through of my home and I accidentally bumped into the end table by the couch, pushing the end of the couch over a few inches. I look down and I see a small silver chain, I pick it up and see the heart shaped locket. I clasp it in my hand, and smile. I feel warmth in my heart as I hold it in my hand, knowing that now I’m fully ready to find my new home.