Jason Jones - Trailer Park Zombies

I looked at her, floundering for words. All I could see was her and Barrett in my dream and I wanted to do anything I could to make sure that didn’t happen.

Barrett stepped forward and they both stood in front of me. “We’re all going, Duke. There’s no way around that.”

I sat back down. “Fine. How are we going to get all the way over there without being noticed and get the shotgun out of there and get it back here?”

Barrett sat back down, too. “You worry too much, cahuna. All we have to do is walk over there like we own the place and no one will say anything. They all know we go to school together so no one will think too much of it. Especially if Fannie Mae goes with us.” He thought for a minute, stroking his chin. “You still have your Little League equipment bag?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect. We can use that to carry the shotgun and baseball bat. And anything else we think we’ll need.”

So in the end I pulled the bag out of the back of my closet and we packed it full of little goodies: my bat (although it was a fierce debate as to whether we should just carry that or not), a bottle of acid, some holy water, hand grenades. Stuff like that. I wish. All we had in there was a bat and the butcher knife. Fannie Mae carried her knife in her sleeve. She wouldn’t be parted from it.

I ended up carrying a lighter and a bottle of lighter fluid that we used to start the grill when we were cooking out. It was a squeeze bottle and it was about half full. It was the closest thing I had to a real weapon.

Hopefully none of it would be necessary. Hopefully the Rogers were still the quiet dead and we could just grab the shotgun and go. And hopefully we’d never have a need for the shotgun at all.

If hopes were wishes maybe we’d all still be alive.

9.

My little army of three set out across the Acres about 7:45 or so in the morning the day after my 16 birthday. We tried to look inconspicuous as we watched all three angles of approach on our position. You could hear that the Acres was finally stirring and waking up. Doors were being slammed and kids could be heard yelling. Only the little kids, of course, the older ones knew enough not to be up at this insane hour.

The trek across the Acres went a little faster than it had a few hours ago, in the dead of night. It was easier to see our way and easier to see if any creatures were coming out to get us. My leg felt a million times better after the soak in the tub and I was actually walking with hardly a limp at all. We ended up in front of Tamara’s trailer in little more than five minutes. Far too soon for my taste.

It just looked dead sitting there.

The empty trailers on both sides looked more alive than the Rogers’ trailer did. Its emptiness stank of death to us. Of course, we knew that death was the only thing awaiting us on the inside but still.

We tried not to look shifty as we approached the front door. The bloody handprint stood out in stark contrast against the whiteness of the door. Barrett whispered, “Oh, fuck,” under his breath and shivered.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said. “You can wait outside and cover our backs.”

He shook his head. “Screw that, cahuna. I told you: I’m in for the count.”

I grasped the doorknob, hoping against hope that it had locked behind us when we ran pell-mell out of here. No such luck, of course. The knob turned easily in my hand. I opened it a couple inches and yelled, “Hello,” into the house.

There was no answer, not that I was expecting any. I think an answer back would have scared me more than anything else. But the main reason behind yelling was to see if I could hear any kind of shuffling or shambling or anything to indicate that I was about to be attacked by Barrett’s horde of zombies. Silence greeted my ears. The silence of the dead.

I wouldn’t let either of the others go first as I entered the trailer. Ambient light filtered in from outside but the sunlight wasn’t strong enough to come in too well so I still had to turn on the flashlight. I hated wasting a hand on it but that was the best I could do. Fannie Mae had her knife out and Barrett brandished the bat like he knew how to use it. I was more afraid of him bashing my skull in than anything else, but any port in a storm I guess.

We did a quick search of the living room and kitchen to see if the shotgun was in there but found nothing. Not that we’d expected it to be that easy. Barrett wanted to go first down the hallway and since he had the bat I let him go at it. I stood in the middle of the line about two feet back from him, shining the light in front, and Fannie Mae brought up the rear. I hoped that her standing back there would at least give her a fighting chance at escape if something happened.

Barrett reached the door to Tamara’s room and looked in it. His face paled noticeably. Crap. He turned to look at me. I hoped he wouldn’t faint. That was about the last thing we needed. As far as I knew Barrett had never seen a dead body before (other than my mom). I should have warned him how bad she looked.

I closed the distance between us and put my hand on his arm. “Barrett, it’s okay. Just ignore her. They wouldn’t keep the shotgun in her room.” He didn’t answer me, just kept staring into the room. I finally turned and looked myself.

Fuck. The body was gone.

I reached into the room, all my nerves alive with fire, and grabbed the doorknob. I quickly pulled it shut, making sure not to slam it. I turned back to Fannie Mae. “Keep your eye on that door.” She nodded silently to me, wide eyed.

I was afraid that Barrett wouldn’t be able to go on and that I’d have to take the bat from him and grab the lead but he completely surprised me and asked me if I was ready and when I nodded we kept going. There were no bodies in there either.

“What’s the chance that someone came and took the bodies?” Barrett asked quietly.

“I’d have to think that the chances of that are very small,” I said. “What purpose would anyone have in doing that?”

“I didn’t think so.” He looked around the room. “I would think we’d have been attacked by now if they were still here. Why don’t you two look for the shotgun and I’ll stand guard?”

Fannie Mae and I stepped gingerly around the blood as we began to search the room from top to bottom looking for the damn shotgun. We found a couple boxes of shells fairly quickly in the closet but the shotgun was nowhere to be found. It was only when I bent to look under the bed that I saw the edge of the barrel peeking out between the mattress and box spring. I breathed a sigh of relief as I grabbed for it.

That was when the hand snaked out from under the bed and grabbed my ankle. Hard. I’m pretty sure I screamed like a little girl.

It started to pull me under but I pulled back and I’m not real sure how the tug of war would have gone but that’s when Barrett and Fannie Mae came out from behind me and started pulling me. The strength in the hand wasn’t enough for all of us and we pulled its owner out to face the light. It was Tamara’s mother. Barrett cried out when he saw her and turned around looking for his baseball bat wherever he’d dropped it when he’d moved to help me.

He screamed like a little girl, too. At least I wasn’t the only one.

I turned my head to see what he’d screamed at and that was when I saw Tamara’s dad in the doorway. He just stood there not moving, looking at us. Thankfully he hadn’t moved in when we were distracted or he could have had us. I looked back down when I felt the grip on my foot release and I saw Tamara’s mom crawling out from under the bed.

I screamed his name, “Barrett!”

I faced me wildly. “Use the baseball bat! Try to clear us a path.”