I own the copyright to this story and am providing chapters exclusively for further broadening the audience my book. A limit of five chapters will be provided for the reading pleasure, as well as critique, of its respective readers. If you desire to purchase the full book(27 chapters in total) contact me via review or pm. Enjoy...
Silence before the dawn
For the true Zoey, just as vivacious in literature as you are in real life- enjoy...
Chapter 1: The unexpected…
"Hey...so, dya want cornflakes or oatmeal?" said a young man rummaging through the lower cabinets, kneeling on his right knee. He seemed indecisive himself, with the wide variety of options throughout the kitchen, why go for the same breakfast two days in a row?
The kitchen itself- spacious, sparsely decorated yet lovely all the same. Ornately carved stone tiles, smooth as can be with hues ranging from cool grays to a dusky pearl. From the lemony scent that wafted through the air, they were mopped just recently, a dull glint proving so. To the far left corner, four polished cherry wood cupboards, two pairs per drawer of black nickel handles resembling an open blossom. Stocked with fine china exported from overseas, exactly how fine was anyone's guess. Stainless steel sinks, glistening from the sunlight, a large window a few inches above granting a spectacular view of the city far below. Two long black granite counters on either side of the sinks, the last one to the right housing the cabinet that the young man was currently perusing through.
"So yeah, maybe we should just have some taters today- whaddya think?" the young man said, thoughts elsewhere as he stood up, rotating his shoulders.
Three doorways granted easy access to the kitchen, two leading to the living room and one for the hallway to the bedrooms and a luxurious bathroom that accommodated a masseuse station, large stone countertops and everything a five star suite would be expected to house.
From one of the hallways popped a head, curiously peering from the corner. A young woman, probably two or three years younger than the young man, a colorful towel draped on her head. "Taters." she said, strolling into the kitchen, going to the round table in the center of the room. Dragging one of four chairs, leather padding muffling any screeching noise that would've been the result of the action. Turning around, yawning as he spoke "So you actually heard me?"
"You bet." she replied, yawning as well. Leaning back, arms behind her head, grinning, she also said "Had the sweetest dream last night..." waiting for the young man to inquire concerning the rest of the dream. Having had grabbed a package of tatertots from the massive freezer, also of stainless steel, the young man began frying the frozen goods on the stoneware frying pan, the frying pan heating up fast, azure flames beneath set to high. Looking over his shoulder, the young man seemed interested. "Lemme guess, you were flying a jet again?" Adding butter to the pan, the sound of popping, then sizzling as the cold slice of golden butter frantically tried to escape the raging heat it quickly melted away to a clearer liquid, soaking into the tater tots.
"Mmmm...that smells good." she said, the young man merely nodded his head in return.
"You bet...I'm gonna fly one someday." she said, returning back to the subject of her dream. Sliding the breakfast into a wide maroon bowl, crisp little tots piling in like a miniature rock slide. Sitting down as he set the food in the midst of the table, across from the young woman. The table was better suited for intimate affairs, such as a quiet conversation over tea.
"Thanks Gabe." the gal said, leaning forward, resting her chin in her hand, anxious fingers drumming the side of her cheek, wide eyes focused on the food. "Do you want to do the honors this time?" she added, sprinkling a small measure of salt. "As always, you're welcome Zoey- and sure, I'll do the honors." Gabriel said, lowering his head. Zoey followed suit. "Lord...thank You for this day. Thank You for the fact that we can breathe once again. Thank You for protecting us. Thank You for this food...I ask that You bless this, in Jesus' name we pray."
"Amen."
"Amen."
Grabbing a few of the greasy tater tots, Zoey popped one by one into her mouth. A satisfied smile etched on her face. "Good, huh?" Gabriel said, eyes closed as he enjoyed the food with his companion. "I need new tanks." Zoey blurted out. Wearing a verdure tank top, over a dingy white one. Faded jean shorts, a scratched black belt and worn out black sneakers. Pulling the towel off of her head, straining the tips of her long curly brown hair, water droplets trickling down onto the floor. Placing the towel, colorful Hawaiian flower patterns being the design, over her shoulders.
"Didn't you get a bunch the last run?" Gabriel asked, his head laying on the table, hair equally as long and equally as curly but nearly black by color yet wine red in certain lights, arms hanging by his sides.
"You alright?" Zoey said, concern in her voice.
Gabriel touched his left leg, his hand recoiling back, a sharp pain emanating from the bandaged wound. Head still on the table, hair hiding his expressions.
"Gabe- are you okay?" Zoey repeated her question.
The bandaged leg started shaking violently, and in an attempt to ease the spontaneous response to the touch, Gabriel pressed down hard with both of his hands, the pain excruciating. Grunting, he effectively held himself from yelling but it wouldn't last for long. Zoey jumped up, consequently knocking the bowl of tater tots off of the table, shoving the chair away as she rushed around to the side of the young man.
A swift observation was all she needed. From a quick look at his face, she could see the signs. His face flushed of color, veins apparent and pulsing like a living flash of livid bolts in a pale sky. Taking a some steps back, swiping one of the knives from the sink- the knife's edge razor sharp and moderately long.
Fear began to set in, blade raised in self-defense, Zoey stared helplessly on.
"Gabe...?" Zoey said, holding the knife up, her hands shaking as a strange feeling slithered down her neck. Unresponsive, Gabriel dropped to the side, a 'thump' as his body hit the ground.
"Gabriel!" Zoey shouted, worried for him yet cautious for her own life. Knife at eye-level, pointing in his general direction, she slowly backed into the hallway, snatching a handgun from Gabriel's hanging rucksack. Still facing his direction, a few feet from him, the beads of sweat that were accumulating had already began to run down her face, the sting of salty perspiration touching her eye. With the back of her knifehand Zoey rubbed both of her eyes quickly. The table blocking her view of Gabriel, leaving only his boots visible.
"Dn hhood." Gabriel muttered weakly.
Instantly Zoey rushed to him, shoving the gun in the back of her shorts, between the belted area. Placing the knife down on the ground, sitting down beside her companion. Drawing him closer to herself as gently as she could, resting his head on her thigh. Matted to his face from the sweat, his hair obscuring his wearied expression. Wiping his hair from his face, pressing her hand to his cheek- chilly to the touch. "What did you say...?" she asked, her voice virtually a whisper.
"Don't shoot..." he replied immediately.
A
sad smile crossed her face, it was a close call, or so she thought. Relief sinking in, she moved her hand from his cheek to his chest. Over his heart, she could feel the rhythm of its drum returning to normal. Up, then slowly down. Up, then slowly down again. His breathing was forced, yet becoming more natural as the minutes passed.
"Don't cry, you'll make me cry..." Gabe said, looking up, his face still pale but a smile on it nonetheless.
Confused, Zoey touched her cheek- and to her surprise tears were running freely across her face, her nose stuffed to boot. Zoey then buried her face into her arm, wiping off the deluge of tears.
"Better?" she asked, looking down at her recovering friend. He smiled in response, then playfully poked her nose "Boop..." he said, adding a light sound effect to the gesture if you will. This indirectly encouraged more tears. "Ah man." she said. Again, she repeated the process of wiping her face in her arm. "Careful now, you're nose will turn into a cherry if you keep it up." Gabriel joked, examining her nose and how pink it had become. Her eyelids red, lined with tears.
"Its getting late." Gabriel said, glancing outside, the skyscrapers now blocking most of the fading light, painting the room in gray.
"When?" Zoey asked, staring at the bandage tightly wrapped around the middle
of Gabriel's thigh. The tan-ish bandage was now mostly a brownish red around the edges and darker red at the center.
"Yesterday. Around 7:30." Gabe responded two minutes later, his voice low.
"Why didn't you tell me and how did it happen?" she asked quietly.
"You know how it happ-"
"Thats not what I meant and you know it- yesterday you were supposed to be back early. It was suppoooosed to be a "quick "food raid. In and out." Zoey snapped.
Tapping his index and middle fingers on his good thigh, Gabriel purposely waited a moment before replying. "I knew you needed new strings for your violin, and mine's too, so I-"
"Ugh! Gabriel! The nearest music store is twelve blocks!" Zoey interrupted, again.
Tired, he continued. "And thats how I got the bite. Thats why I came home a few hours later- I needed to make sure I wasn't followed back, and that I didn't turn."
Nodding her head, clearly annoyed, she just kept quiet. As for Gabe, he remained quiet himself.
Several minutes of prolonged silence continued until Zoey broke the stillness. "I'm going with you next time."
It didn't take even a second for Gabe to put his two cents in. "We're leaving."
"What?" shocked by his remark, Zoey laughed, though not the laugh due to humor.
"Exactly. I wouldn't be half as effective with you out there."
"Excuse me? You're joking right...I know how to use a gun you know! You better be joking..."
Gabriel sighed before he replied "I know. I trust you with my life...but I still worry, I know its contradictory. Face it, we're gonna run out of food soon, and we'll be forced to search deeper and deeper into the city for fresh food...that's why we've got to leave. Sooner the better."
Judging by her silence, Gabriel figured Zoey was mulling over everything. "We should prepare enough rations for the trip, but just enough to where we're not loaded down. As many knives as we can strap on. Destination is a
must. Somewhere in the wild where we can live outside of the densely infested areas. Bandoliers if necessary."
"We need to train with everything we're going to bring so that we can handle the journey. Also, we need to practice swinging our swords for at least an hour straight- we might need to have that kind of endurance when the time comes." Gabriel said, pushing himself up so that he was eye-level to Zoey.
"We can do this." He said.
"Yes, we can." Zoey affirmed.
Placing a hand on Zoey's head, his index finger messing with a nearly dry curl, Gabriel planted a kiss on her forehead, then stood up. "I'm going to get started on the logistics..." Gabriel said, walking over to the living room. "I'll join you shortly- I need to use the little zombie-slayer's room." Zoey said, chuckling a bit as she made her way to the bathroom. Gabriel laughed too.
The living room, twice as big as the kitchen and with the couches all barricading the door, thrice as sparsely decorated. In the middle of the room was a long steel framed glass table. Piled on top of, surrounding it and underneath it, enough weapons and munitions supplies for a small army, or enough for two to cut a swath through the zombie-ridden city. As useful as it was, only a fraction of it would be brought. Pinned to the wall, a group of maps, one being the map of the city, while the others- schematics and blueprints of safe locations. A rations and weapons supply chart clipped to the end of the map. Sticky notes with simple reminders of various sorts here and there.
Picking up a notebook from the soft white rug that encompasses the entire livingroom, he pulled a blue ink pen from his pocket and sat down, leaning his back against the wall for support.
Opening the red-cover notebook, skimming through page after page of plans- both of successes and failures. Halfway through, on a blank leaf of paper, Gabriel began calculating how many weeks they would need to be in the physical and mental state required to make their grand escape. Preparations would be vigorous- not an ounce of doubt or weakness would be allowed, or else the end result could ultimately mean one or both of them in the festering bellies of the infec
ted that roamed outside. Luckily their food storage would suffice for their training, as for where they would train, that Gabriel had already covered. "I see you're back from your mission." Gabriel smiled as he spoke. "Yessir, now what've we got so far?" Zoey said, approaching Gabriel, drying her hands on the side of her shorts.
When Zoey was next to him, Gabe ran through the details he had come up with so far with Zoey. "So we're gonna be using the gym on the main floor then, huh?" Zoey said, appreciating the resources they had to work with. "You bet chicka- its a good thing you found it that time too." Gabe responded.
Initially, Gabriel and Zoey had found shelter on the main floor of the building. The building being a five-star hotel housing virtually everything they would need- clothes, food and sanctuary. It was during that time that Zoey had stumbled upon the gym, and her first Second Form- or so Gabriel had classified it.
The Infected took on multiple stages, sometimes unique variations due to the genetic makeup and physical condition on the infected individual. The Pre-Form: Sickly in appearance, pale, weak. Easily killed, but their cough is what makes them lethal. Technically, they are people who have come in contact with the infection- either by direct contact such as by the transference of bodily fluids, wounds inflicted by the Infected or inhaling the cough of another Pre-Form. Though still a thinking, mostly-sane individual, they are walking spores, carriers of an incurable disease. Their bodies are at their weakest during this stage as the infection begins to decimate the immune system followed by a series of other highly uncomfortable symptoms. This stage generally lasts a week -this depends largely on the individual's physical resistance and mental fortitude before the frontal lobe ceases to function. At that time the body enters a coma-induced state that lasts roughly around half a day. Upon exiting their sleeping state the individual is no longer an 'individual', but now a lethal, extremely aggressive corpse. The coma leaves their bodies in desperate need of protein- hence the manic desire to consume flesh. Attracted to movement, smell and sound, First Forms will latch onto everything and anything that moves, mauling and attacking their victim onlyto attack the next moving being in sight. Unless periodically fed, First Forms rarely enter Second Form state. The infection circulates a vile white bile through the infected body, keeping all senses and motor skills fully functional. The lack of protein, of which they can track through olfactory means- but only up to a certain distance, causes this white fluid to be rapidly produced in the body, resulting in the swelling of their bodies. Not as swift as a First Form, these iterations are walking biohazards. Oozing eventually happens, exploding should a certain amount of stimulus be applied is another outcome. Contact with this concentrated form of the infection immediately induces the aforementioned coma, rendering one paralyzed, but, painfully aware of their current predicament. The stronger the concentration, the faster the transformation process from normal civilian to mindless being happens- some change in a matter of seconds, while others might endure for a handful of hours or even half a day.
Zoey had found the entrance to the gym, barred. Clipping the lock with a pair of industrial pliers, she had gained access to the gym- and unfortunately, her first Second Form as well. It was lumbering about on the lower deck, a short walk down the stairs to the weight lifting section, when it had heard the doors part.