J. Knoll - Zoe, Undead

J. R. Knoll

ZOE UNDEAD

by

J. R. Knoll

artwork by

Zach Jordon

Zoe, Undead

This story would not have been possible without the large numbers of people who bugged me tirelessly to write a zombie story.

Zoe herself owes her existence to my boy Ryan, a young man who is a video game playing, heavy metal head-banging dude who has Asperger's Syndrome and who Zoe was designed after. Many of Zoe's mannerisms and quirks are those I've seen in Ryan over the years, and it's become abundantly clear that he does not suffer from Asperger's, he seems to enjoy his life with it! We should all be so lucky as to spend even a day seeing things through the eyes of those with autism, as they can see many things far more clearly in many ways than those who consider themselves "normal."

Being the parent of an autistic child is something of a daily adventure, but through all of the struggles, tears, laughter, and triumphs, we truly are the lucky ones to have been blessed with these very special children.

CHAPTER 1

Hell on Earth. It was all anyone could call it. Seventy-five percent of the world's population was already infected, and it had only been four months since the first reported outbreak. The virus was very aggressive, and usually took complete control of the victim's body within twenty-four hours. Once it had control of its victim, it changed behavior, changed how the body worked, and those of all races, backgrounds, religions; everyone who was infected became what the virus wanted: Zombies.

Driven to feed, they needed meat to sustain themselves and these gray skinned creatures who were formerly people roamed about in groups, sometimes mobs in search of food, in search of the living. Even dogs that had survived being attacked now preyed on the living, attacking and devouring what still living flesh they could find. Militaries and police all over the world responded as best they could, but they had to learn how to fight this new threat, and all too often they learned too slowly. Destroying the brain was seemingly the only way to kill them as damaged bodies mended in a matter of hours and the zombies seemed not to feel pain. Though relatively slow moving, they were subject to bursts of speed that could quickly overtake victims and even military units were overrun as their weapons cut the charging bodies apart. The infection spread quickly even through militaries and police and soon only a few pockets of resistance remained worldwide.

Running or hiding anywhere that seemed defensible, those who eluded infection seemed to draw the zombies to them, and eventually they would all be found. Some communities remained untouched for months, only to find themselves under siege by hoards of zombies that looked for food, and neighborhoods, towns, whole cities fell in a matter of days, and most of those not killed and eaten found themselves infected, and within a day they would join the others on an endless quest for food.

Many families in one suburban neighborhood did not make it out in time. Many barricaded themselves in their houses in a futile attempt to stave off the inevitable. The screams of those who fought to stay alive split through the moans of the roving zombies and attracted more to the promise of a living meal, and the splintered fragments of humanity grew smaller and smaller.

Zoe was only seventeen. Pretty and shapely, she wore her long brown hair straight and it fell below her shoulders behind her. Dressed in denim shorts and a pink tee shirt that read Princess across the front in silver glitter, she sat on the floor of the living room with her eyes fixed on the TV as a cartoon she liked played. Her family was in chaos and running about in a panic, but she was oblivious. Settled back on her calves with her behind resting on her feet, her big green eyes watched the show she had seen dozens of times but never seemed to tire of.

Her mother, who looked much like her but with much shorter hair, darted behind her and she looked over one shoulder, then the other as she absently tracked her mother's movements, then her attention went back to the TV.

"Zoe!" her father yelled from the kitchen, which was to her left.

She looked that way, then back to the TV.

"Zoe!" he repeated, stress in his voice that was growing with each moment.

Zoe's voice had little patience in it as she replied, "Yes, Daddy?"

"Come on!" he ordered. "We need you in here! Turn that thing off and let's go!"

She huffed a frustrated breath and looked down to the floor by her knees where the remote controls lay, and she picked one up and watched a moment longer before pushing STOP to end the show she was watching, then she picked up the other to turn the power off. Dropping them where they were, she stood up and turned to the kitchen folding her hands behind her as she walked into the disarray that was around her. Just watching for a moment as her father filled a cardboard box with food from the pantry, she finally asked, "What are you doing?"

"We need to go," he grumbled. "Your brother already has most of this out at the van. Take that box over there out to him. He'll know what to do with it."

"Okay," she sighed as she found the box he was referring to. Picking it up, she noticed that it had been hastily packed with food items. She looked it over for a second, then turned her eyes to her father and asked, "Are you bringing Spaghetti-O's?"

"I have them in this box," he grumbled.

"Oh," she said, looking back to the box. "Are we going camping?"

"Yeah," he barked, "something like that. Just get that box out there and come right back in."

"Okay," she complied as she turned toward the door.

Arriving outside through the open garage door, she saw her brother, who was in college and wearing his college tee shirt, shorts and running shoes, already at the van and struggling to load supplies into the back. "Daddy said to bring you this," she informed.

He did not even glance back as he ordered, "Just put it down. I'll take care of putting it in here."

"'Kay," she said as she set the box down. "Daddy says we're going camping."

With a glance back at her, he nodded and agreed, "Yeah, something like that. Get back inside and see if Mom needs any help with anything."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I don't know," he grumbled. "Just get back inside and see if they need any help."

She turned from him and froze as she heard an odd sound, something like a moan. Her brother also stopped what he was doing as he heard it.

A stillness gripped them and all that could be heard were activities from within the house and the distant sounds of others who were packing to leave.

Something banged into the van and that moan was closer.

"Zoe," he called to her in a low voice. "Get back in the house." He looked to her with fear in his eyes and hissed, "Get in the house! Now!"

They heard that moan again and both turned toward the driver's side of the van, and her brother backed away a couple of steps, reaching for her and finally finding her hand.

A man strode into view. He had gray skin and sunken eyes that were very dark all the way around. His black hair was in disarray and he wore what appeared to be a shirt that would be worn under a business suit, though it was tattered and torn in places. The tie was gone and his dark gray trousers were scuffed and dirty. His eyes found them and he paused and sniffed, then his lips curled away from his teeth which were black between and around his gums, and a growl of some kind escaped him as he lumbered toward them with unsteady steps.