Z Day

  SHAE

  The day had started so well. It was one of my nicer mornings. No alarm clock, no rush to get this or that done, just a lovely lazy Sunday morning. The sheets of my bed were cool, and, as I’d fed recently, I felt quite content in all things.

  Stretching, I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes. I took in the blessed silence of the empty house. Having supernatural hearing was all well and good, except when you lived in a house with 30 other people. I looked at my phone and sighed. Reaching behind me, I retrieved my book from the headboard and propped myself up with pillows. I had time.

  Pagoda had left last night, but not before giving me another piece of his mind. Apparently, I had disappointed him in yet another spectacular way. I couldn't even remember what he'd rambled on about this time; I’d gotten so used to tuning him out.

  I didn't understand why he cared so much. We hadn't been together for over a year, and I knew he was already sleeping with another of his many “subjects.” Not that he hadn't been sleeping around on me while we were together. He wasn't near as sneaky as he thought he was. I didn’t understand his need to be sneaky to begin with. All he had to do was talk to me about it like a “grown-up.” But for some reason, I'd always looked the other way. He just wasn't the same as I remembered from so long ago.

  I tried to scrub him out of my mind. He was gone on business for at least a month and took most of the household with him. I sighed, found where I'd left off in my book and made myself comfortable before becoming lost in the pages.

  My phone beeped sometime later, reminding me if I was going out today, I needed to get a move on. Throwing off the covers, I padded over to the bathroom; the cool tile stones felt good on my bare feet. It didn’t take long to wash, and I took a minute to examine myself in the mirror afterward.

  Turning this way and that, I checked for anything unusual. Of course, I didn't find anything, but I still tried to check every month or so. Still no wrinkles, no sagging, nothing that would come close to showing anything but the 20-something I appeared to be. “Not bad,” I murmured and smiled.

  Sometimes, I wish I remembered when I was originally born. But then again, it would probably end up marking a depressing day every year. It's best to remember happier things.

  I sighed and stopped stroking myself in the mirror. If I didn't get a move on, I'd end up missing it. I threw my clothes on and checked to ensure my makeup was in order before heading out.

  There wasn’t anyone in the halls. Either they knew better than to get in my way, or I just got lucky.

  The garage was devoid of people as well. Several cars, from the most ostentatious Maserati, to an old beat-up Cadillac, to some military monstrosity all sat silently. Cars couldn't keep up with me though; I needed to be able to move and keep moving.

  The thought made me pause. Why did I need to keep moving? Was there something chasing me that made me too nervous to hold still?

  Shaking the thought from my head, I donned the white leather riding jacket and straddled my bike. It was a silver Suzuki Stratosphere. It was originally shown off at the Tokyo Car Show. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to have it. While they’d never gone into production, I’d used Pagoda's influence to get one of the concept bikes imported from Japan. It was sleek and different. Heads turned as I zipped in and out of traffic. A few people had even approached me about buying it, but I'd never sell it. I loved this bike. It was one of the few good things being with Pagoda had gotten me.

  I strapped on my overstuffed bag and started up the engine. Roaring out of the garage as soon as the door opened, the sentry at the main gate barely had enough time to get the gate open before I blasted out of the compound.

  The purr of the engine beneath me brought a smile to my face. I made a mental note to thank whoever had given it a tune-up last.

  All too soon, the park came into view. The games were already underway as I parked.

  Dropping my gear under a tree out of the sun, I peeled off my riding jacket. I didn't need the jacket for protection; I just thought it looked good. I had on my typical brown leather outfit with green leggings. I'd been letting my hair grow for a while now and pulled it back into a single ponytail to keep it out of the way.

  Once upon a time, I had blonde hair. Then one morning I woke up and it had turned its current white color. They say it is typical for someone with my heritage to have white hair at a young age. Of course, contemporary styles had children dyeing their hair white to look “cool” nowadays.

  I pulled the two foam swords from my bag and gave them an experimental twirl. Finding someone who could craft what I wanted had taken a while. Due to the game’s safety rules, the two blades couldn't be as thin as the rapiers I had “enjoyed” in my youth. But, they were still agile, and I hadn't broken one yet, even when I did get a bit carried away.

  I couldn't remember discovering this park or this game, but I didn't care. It was the way I seemed to feel about most things lately. They didn't matter, and I didn't care. What I cared about was that this was mindless fun, running around beating people up with big foam swords. And I was good at it.

  I spent the next hour mindlessly beating up folks who seemed to enjoy being beaten up as much as I enjoyed doing the beating. I had been lying in wait in a large clump of bushes when I sensed him.

  There was something wrong with this guy from the start. He didn't smell or act right and wasn't supposed to be here. I saw his face and lunged. I batted his sword away and laid into him with a flurry of blows that would have broken through anyone's defenses. To my surprise, he recovered and began to defend.

  He wasn't wearing garb, just some sort of cargo military pants. He was taller than I was, thin on a larger frame. He had close-cut hair, maybe a centimeter long, lightish brown, with a little gray mixed in. He had a five o'clock shadow going, and his eyes were a greenish-blue.

  But his movements were startling. I lost a bit of control as my need to beat this man became frantic. I needed to get rid of him; he didn't belong, he was wrong. I don’t know where the feelings came from but they were overpowering.

  I pressed the attack faster than I should and we locked swords. As I broke away, my hand brushed his.

  Suddenly, the world stopped and melted away. I was sitting in some institutionalized cafeteria, smiling and chatting. It only took me a moment to realize I was seeing myself through his eyes. Another blur and the two of us were in a car. Another shift and we were at Drakes and the world was fuzzy. Another blur and we were kissing, my breath cold and sweet on his face, the pressure of his lips…

  His strike lashed out and snapped one of my swords off at the hilt, “Shae, stop this!” he commanded.

  He commanded? *Who was he to command me?* I switched hands, trying to shake the echoes of the images from my mind and lunged at him with enough force no one should have seen it coming. Had I a real weapon, it would have taken his head off.

  But he stepped out of range! It was infuriating as he shouldn't be able to keep up. A smile crept onto my face when I saw his feet tangle on a tree root, and he fell. I took advantage of the trip and smacked him on the chest twice to ensure he stayed down. I’d won.

  “Don't you recognize me?” the man said from the ground, looking up at me. “It's me, James.”

  The name sent a chill down my spine as I looked down on him. *How'd he know my name? I've never seen him before.* Then the images flashed in my head again. Confusion flickered in my mind, confusion laced with an irrational, overwhelming fear that caused me to turn and bolt from the park. I heard him start to give chase, but a noise, possibly from his phone, made him stop.

  I managed to reign in my panic before I got too far. Remembering my bike was still at the park caused me to stop altogether. My response to the man was utterly irrational. Nothing had ever sent me running away like this, nothing! I circled the park quickly and caught a glimpse of him getting into a car.

  Grabbing my gear, I mounted my bike and pulled an unused helmet from the saddlebag. Again, I didn't need it for safety but to conceal my identity. I roared the motorcycle to life and followed him across town.

  All the traffic was a surprise. It was a Sunday, but there were a lot more people on the road than usual. Trying to stay inconspicuous as I followed him through back neighborhoods to avoid traffic jams was challenging.

  He made it to the front gate of Camp Mabry, the local Army National Guard unit in town. They had a small base just outside of Loop 1. I watched from across the highway as he eventually got onto the Army base. I had a lot of clout around town but didn't have access to a military installation.

  Driving past the entry point, I noted all the big vehicles and automatic weapons focused there. A hundred meters down and around the corner, no one was on the fence. There wasn't a gate, just a long stretch of fence with razor wire at the top. I stopped and looked around, noting an unusual amount of smoke from downtown.

  After waiting several minutes and not a single soul coming by, I walked over to the fence and waited some more. Finally, I decided it was now or never and proceeded to pick my bike up with one hand and toss it high over the fence. With as much speed as I could muster, I cleared the fence and quickly caught the bike, keeping it from crashing into the ground. With a relieved sigh, I gingerly lowered the bike back on its wheels and set off to find this man.

  I caught up to him as he left a building and headed for his car. I roared up behind him as soon as he'd gotten in and closed the door. I was off the bike and at the door in a flash. My hand lashed out through the open window and grabbed his seatbelt, pulling it tight across his body, pinning him in place.

  With my free hand, I pulled my helmet off and looked into his face. “Who are you, and how do you know me?” When he didn't answer, I tightened the belt to the point stitches started to pop.

  “My name is James Sable. You were supposed to be my fiancé once, a long time ago.”

  *What?!?* I told myself. Aloud, I said, “I’ve never seen you before today.”

  “Really? Then why did you try to take my head off in the park?” he said hotly.

  “It’s part of the game.”

  “What, using vampire speed and strength to beat down teenagers?” he said.

  He seemed to be angry about the game...a game! I looked at him this time, really looked at him, but couldn't see anything familiar about him. The fact that he knew about vampires was a bit unsettling, but it didn't give him credibility. If it weren’t for the memory flashes, I wouldn’t be here. “What do you know about me?”

  “Everything you’d tell me. You are a vampire, you’re in the service of your master Doreen, you’re old, but you wouldn’t tell me how old because you said it was an unladylike question, you’ve got a dragonfly tattooed on your left hip, and you left me 14 years ago without a word!” his anger flared up, and he managed to push against my hold, straining the seatbelt to the breaking point.

  His strength surprised me again as his words confused me. I guess that’s why I didn't see him open the car door until it was too late. It hit me with enough force to knock me down.

  “Now you can answer some questions for me, starting with what the hell happened to you!” he said.

  “You’re a vampire,” I said as I cautiously got to my feet.

  “No, I’m a tap boy with attitude; now answer the question!” he growled.

  “I’ve never seen you before today.” *Tap boy?* I thought. I’d never had a tap boy. I always preferred to get my blood from bags or the old-fashioned way.

  “What, you’re Shae’s twin sister? What sort of bad soap opera BS is this?” he said.

  “I have no sister and…” I started, but an explosion cut me off. It was close enough to cause both of us to stumble. A ball of smoke and fire was rising from the other side of the highway.

  Screams suddenly filled the air, and automatic weapons fire came from the direction of the main gate.

  “OK, we can finish this somewhere else. For now, we need to get out of here, and I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he said turning back to me. “We’re not getting out that way,” he indicated the gate. “How’d you get in here anyway? You’re not military. Are you?”

  Shaking my head, “No, but I have my ways.” I pointed a thumb behind me, “Just drive through the fence.”

  It looked like he was briefly considering it when he said, “No, I’m not leaving them with a gaping hole in their perimeter.”

  “Why not? Who are they to you?” I was surprised by his concern.

  “It’s not happening, deal with it,” he said.

  I shrugged, “Well, there’s no other way out of here, just the front gate.”

  He glanced at my bike. “Get on the other side of the fence. Don’t look at me, do it.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, “Just because we’re on a military base doesn’t mean you can order me around.”

  “Will you get on the other side of the fence, please and thank you?” he finally said.

  I stood frowning at him momentarily before realizing what he had in mind. Shrugging, I nimbly scaled the fence, easily slipping over the razor wire at the top. “Now what?” I asked.

  “Catch.” He lifted my bike and, with a grunt, tossed it just clear of the fence. I caught it easily and set it down.

  I felt my eyebrows raise as I watched him scale the fence. He wasn’t as graceful as I was, but still better than a human would be.

  “Not a vampire, huh?” I said.

  “No,” he said, a bit out of breath.

  I shrugged and climbed back onto my bike. “Where to?” He climbed on behind me, and as he touched me, I froze. More memories flashed, exploding in my mind: the two of us laying on the warm sand of the compound’s grotto, me in my green dress dancing with him in a military uniform, the two of us in a booth at Drakes.

  “Home,” he said, snapping me out of the flood of his memories. Something was wrong here, and I wasn’t letting him out of my sight until I figured out what.

  “Scratch that. Head South, we need to make a stop first,” he said.

  I shrugged and gunned the bike to life.

  The trip South was surprisingly uneventful. The highway had turned into a parking lot allowing us to weave in and out of traffic to the accompaniment of honking horns and fingers given. James hung onto me for dear life.

  I was ready for it this time. The fact that I could access his mind by being in close proximity meant that we had been in blood contact at some point. With how easy it was for me to slip into his mind, it had been a lot of blood contact.

  When I touched his mind again, I wasn’t ready for the sudden bombardment of drug withdrawal that swept over me. I had noticed his body trembling slightly but had chalked it up to adrenalin. As I skimmed his thoughts, careful to avoid becoming too distracted while driving, I learned he was addicted to some chemical the military gave him.

  While the drug gave him enhanced senses and strength, it was insanely addictive, and he’d die without routine doses. The chemical burning through his veins was the bitter-sweet smell I’d picked up from him back at the park. Now, he was out of this drug and in serious trouble.

  It wasn't until I got into the neighborhoods down South that the weird ones showed up. I slowed as I approached one of the shambling figures and the smell hit me.

  Its face was half gone, like something had just ripped it apart as easily as peeling an orange. I glanced down and saw it was also sporting bullet wounds that would have killed any normal creature. This was a corpse, a walking corpse. *What is going on?* I thought.

  I sped away and steered well clear of the other shamblers I saw.

  We eventually arrived at the house he wanted. He was off the bike and up the sidewalk before I could get the sidestand down. I heard him calling to someone in the house, and they responded.

  A dark-haired girl was on the phone when I walked in. One look at her and I knew she recognized me, but I had no clue who she was.

  “What’s SHE doing here?” the girl asked James.

  “Don’t worry about her Miria; I’ll explain later, dial.” James turned and looked at me. “Watch the street; let me know if you see any more of those shamblers we saw on the way here.”

  My hand lashed out faster than he could follow. I pushed him back against a wall and lifted him off his feet with one hand. “That is the second time you’ve given me a command. I am no servant nor an animal for you to boss around.”

  His eyes locked with mine for a moment before he surrendered. “Please watch the street?”

  I held his gaze a moment longer before dropping him to his feet and stepping out the door. As I left, I heard Miria say, “That’s not the same girl, James.”

  Not a lot was going on outside. I could hear traffic on some of the side streets, an accident to the West, and a scream from far off to the North, but nothing was going on close by.

  Cocking my head back towards the house, I could hear James on the phone, giving frantic instructions to someone. Whatever was going on, James knew something about it, and he appeared to be rallying his forces. I briefly considered calling the compound, but I didn't care. That place was a fortress anyway; they could take care of themselves.

  A horn honked from the end of the street, and I saw one of the shamblers coming this way, following the car that had swerved around it.

  “James,” I called back into the house. He appeared a moment later. I nodded towards the end of the street. He muttered something under his breath and went back inside, telling Miria to drop everything and get in the car with him. Surprisingly, she did as he told her.

  I couldn't figure out where this authority he was using was coming from. Something about his demeanor compelled you to want to obey. I had even hesitated earlier before I picked him up off the floor.

  “Get in the car, Shae—” James caught himself and added, “Please.”

  I rolled my eyes and walked back to my bike. I wasn't about to leave my bike behind.

  “They can grab you right off of it,” he glanced at the bike, but his protest was short-lived as I ignored him and started the bike up. He shook his head, obviously not used to people ignoring his “orders.”

  I fell in behind him as he drove out of the neighborhood. He continued south, sticking mainly to neighborhood streets. We ran into a few tight spots, but nothing that had us in any real danger.

  I was still getting over seeing that corpse. But I began to get nervous as I saw a second and a third. Something like this doesn't just happen. It would have taken time for things to get to the tipping point like this.

  I didn't watch TV, well, not much, I guess. I had a few shows I would record and watch when I was bored, but I didn't watch the news at all; it was too depressing. The world I existed in already had enough horror stories without adding those of the human world. I guess my seclusion at the compound had backfired on me.

  ∞?∞

  JAMES

  We stuck to side streets, cutting through neighborhoods to get to my mother’s place. During the next half hour of repeated backtracking and a few sidewalk drives, I briefly described what was happening across the globe to Miria. I left out my undead suspicions but emphasized the seriousness of the situation as we pulled into the yard of Mom's place.

  “Quick, close the gate,” I said.

  Miria got out and closed the chain link gate. The old fence was only about a meter and a half tall and wasn’t sturdy. I figured it would fall if enough people leaned on it at once, but it was better than nothing.

  I turned off the ignition and realized Mark’s car was in the yard. I jumped out and walked quickly over to the car.

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  Mark rolled down his window and looked up at me. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.” His smile faded when he saw my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come on inside,” I said. When I reached for the front door, my hands were shaking. I cursed myself; I’d forgotten about my medication. I was supposed to be trying to take it easy until I could get to San Antonio; so much for that plan. There was no way I could get all these people onto Randolph. I’d have to figure something else out.

  “You OK?” Mark’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts as he and his girlfriend Rebecca came up behind me.

  “Yeah, come on in,” I opened the door and led them inside before closing and bolting it. “Miria, close the curtains and blinds on all the windows.”

  “Sure thing,” Miria said.

  “Shae—” I started, but Mark cut me off.

  “I thought that was you. Haven’t seen you in forever; how’s it going?” Mark said.

  “Mark, not now. Shae, check out—” I stopped myself and took a breath to slow down. “Please keep an eye on our surroundings from the windows. Try not to give away the fact we’re in the house.”

  “James, what’s going on—” A gunshot cut off Mark’s question. It came from somewhere in the neighborhood.

  I looked at Shae. “Watch the perimeter; try not to give away our presence.”

  This time, Shae nodded without comment and started through the house.

  “Mark, turn on the TV and find the news. Looks like things are getting worse. I’ll be back in a minute,” I said.

  “James, what’s going on?” Mark asked.

  “Give me just a minute,” I said over my shoulder.

  Mark shrugged his shoulders at his girlfriend, unsure what was happening, and started fiddling with the TV.

  Miria’s phone rang, causing her to jump. “Hello? Calm down, Trish. No, I’m not at home; I’m at my mom’s place. Yes, OK, come over here and be careful. There’s a lot of bad people out right now. Don’t stop for anyone. OK, see you soon.”

  Trish had been Miria’s friend since kindergarten. They’d come up together through high school and even worked at the same law firm as legal clerks.

  “Trish said her girlfriend attacked her,” Miria said. “You think it's part of all this?”

  “Dunno, give me a minute,” I said from the other room.

  I quickly found the key and combination for the gun safe and opened it up. Looking around the cluttered garage, I grabbed a long black bag with a blue patch on one end.

  Dumping out my childhood Lazer Tag gear, I emptied the safe’s contents into the bag. It was a tight fit, but I got it all and brought it back into the house.

  The TV was blaring away when I returned to the living room.

  “To repeat, everyone is urged to stay in your homes. Do not go outside. Secure your doors and windows, and do not open them to anyone unless it’s emergency response personnel. Phone lines are overloaded, so you may be unable to get through. If you have anyone injured, treat them and contact emergency medical services. Again, the phones are swamped, so it may take several tries to get through—” the TV reporter said with a look of masked calm on her face.

  “What’s the word?” I asked.

  Mark looked up as I came in. “Uh, the military has locked down the airport and most of downtown.”

  “They say this disease is driving people insane,” Rebecca added. “They say to stay away and, if you do make contact, to wash and disinfect quickly. You think it’s really that bad?”

  I nodded. “Stay away from the windows and doors. Shae will keep an eye out. Rebecca, can you watch the TV? I need to borrow Mark.”

  “Sure, but it’s just Becca,” she smiled.

  “OK Becca, see if they say anything about the roads between here and San Antonio.” I nodded at Mark, who squeezed Becca's hand and followed.

  At the dining room table, I emptied the contents of my makeshift gun bag, causing Mark to whistle.

  “Uh, James…I know you were a bit of a war nut as a kid and all, but this is a bit ridiculous,” he said.

  “Yeah, this is what happens when you play too much Lazer Tag as a kid and then go in the military. I was never stateside when I had money to buy guns. So, every time I saw something I wanted, I’d buy it and have it sent here to be stored. Half this stuff I’ve never shot.” I picked up the only rifle bag I had and set it aside.

  I had five pistols of various sizes, four shotguns, and two rifles: a .22 and an AR-15 I'd build myself. Sadly, I only had a handful of ammunition.

  “OK, can you use any of this?” I asked Mark, who was still staring open-mouthed.

  Shae walked through the room and picked up the AR-15, a handful of ammo, and a couple of magazines before she walked out without a word.

  “Uh…” Mark started.

  “Don’t ask,” I said. “OK, shotgun, I’ve got a box of shells for it. Here’s the basics.” I spent ten minutes running Mark through how to operate the shotgun and handed him five shells. I made him practice loading and cycling the weapon before I was satisfied he wouldn’t hurt himself with the firearm.

  “What is this all about, James?” Mark asked again. He’d been reluctant to handle the firearm, but my urgency pushed his reservations to the back of his mind.

  “I’ll explain when everyone gets here. In the meantime, remember, safety stays on, and your finger stays off the trigger until you're ready to shoot.”

  “There’s someone coming up to the gate,” Shae called.

  I moved so fast it startled Mark.

  “It’s Trish,” Miria said and threw open the door before I could stop her.

  I watched Miria run down the steps and meet her friend at the gate. Trish had difficulty opening the gate and had to have Miria open it for her. The two of them came back into the house.

  When I saw her, Trish was shaking worse than I was. “Is she OK?” I asked.

  “Her girlfriend attacked her,” Miria said, her arm around Becca as they entered the house.

  “Is she hurt?” I asked, startled.

  “No, just shook up,” Miria said protectively.

  “Miria,” I stopped her. “You need to be sure.”

  She looked at me, a hard look in her eyes. “She’s fine. She just needs some time.”

  I watched Miria take her into a back room, then turned back to see Shae watching me. She had the, now loaded, rifle slung across her back. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her handling a gun before. From what I remembered, she wasn’t the military type at all. Something serious must have happened in those missing years for her to be able to handle a rifle the way she was.

  “Highway patrol has shut down I-35,” Becca called out.

  “What? Are you sure?” I asked. The thought that I might not be able to make it to my medication caused an involuntary shudder to run through me. I knew I was already in trouble as the shakes were getting worse; they were in both hands now.

  “Yeah, they’re trying to isolate areas to prevent the infection from spreading,” Becca said. “What is going on?”

  I cursed quietly under my breath. “Becca, any good with guns?” I changed the subject.

  “I’m a boffer girl, not a steampunk. Why?” Becca said, then looked at Mark and his new shotgun. “Why do you have a gun?”

  “Just in case,” I answered. “With all the crazy stuff happening, it's just a precaution.”

  “Pretty serious precaution,” Becca said.

  I sighed and went back to the table. I inventoried what I had left. There were enough shells to load the two remaining shotguns, nothing for the third. I had most of a box of .22 ammo, but I knew you had to be a pretty good shot to be effective against a person with such a small caliber. There was a box of .38 shells for the Smith & Wesson revolver, but the 1917 revolver still had timing issues and “splashed” when fired. An inexperienced person would probably drop the gun the first time they fired it. There was half a box of 9mm and one last box of .223 for my personal rifle.

  I unzipped the case and pulled out my favorite rifle. I’d always thought it was cool looking in movies, but my time with the Aussies downrange really sold me on the Steyr AUG. I’d bought one with the money from my last deployment a couple of years ago. I’d managed to sight in the scope and break in both barrels before putting it in storage here.

  I checked the scope batteries and loaded what little ammo I had into two magazines. Both barrels for the gun were still wrapped up. One was a standard short barrel, while the other was long, heavy, and had bipods for competition shooting. I attached the short one.

  I’d always enjoyed shooting but wasn’t too fond of hunting. Killing paper targets or steel plates was more than enough for me. Sometimes, I just liked the feel of the weapon as it discharged. I somehow found comfort in this. My buddies thought I was nuts, and they may have been right. I wasn’t a redneck or a hardline NRA nut. I just liked guns, a lot!

  I loaded the pistol magazines with what ammo I had. Unfortunately, I only had one pistol holster, and it was for the 9mm. The rest of the pistols would have to be carried in regular pockets.

  Miria appeared as I was finishing up.

  “How’s Trish?” I asked.

  “Resting, no thanks to you,” Miria said.

  “Miria,” I sighed, “you have to understand that if her girlfriend hurt her, she could become one of them.”

  “What are you talking about?” Miria asked.

  “I mean, she’ll get infected like her girlfriend was,” I said.

  “I don’t even know if her girlfriend was infected. She was kind of a jerk to begin with. They might have just had a fight,” Miria said.

  “Fine, just keep an eye on her, OK?” I relented. “Any word from Richard?”

  “Not yet. His phone went straight to voice mail the last time I checked it,” she said.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s a good guy,” I said as I hugged her.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Now, can you use any of this?” I asked, indicating the firearms.

  “I know how to use the shotty,” she said.

  “The shotty?” I grinned.

  “Yeah. I am related to you, you know. You think you’re the only gun nut in the family? I have shot skeet, you know,” she said.

  I looked at her with surprise. “Really? You?”

  “Don’t act so shocked; I am a Texan, after all.” Miria pulled one of the 870s from the bag. “Besides, Richard took me. I only did it the one time, but it wasn’t too bad. It was fun.”

  I smiled. “Fine, it’s already got shells in it. It’s all we got, so be careful.”

  She put the shotgun down and looked at me, “Just what are we doing? I mean, we’re holed up at our mom’s house, your ex-fiancée has shown up after 15 years—”

  “14.” I corrected.

  “Excuse me, 14 years, and you’re packing an arsenal while people are losing their minds outside,” Miria said.

  “Trust me, I’ll explain when Richard gets here. I don’t want to try to say it twice. It’s gonna be hard enough one time,” I sighed.

  “James…” she started to say something, then caught herself and stopped. “Do I want to know what you’ve been doing overseas? I mean, I never ask, and you aren’t in touch all that often. I get most of my info about you from Facebook.”

  “It’s a boring story, sis. But one I’ll tell you…eventually,” I said.

  “Truck pulling up,” Shae reported from the front room.

  “Richard!” Miria ran to the front door.

  Richard’s truck was more than a bit battered. The front bumper was dented and pushed in, while scratches were all down the sides.

  “Looks like you had a bit of trouble getting here,” I said as he entered the house arm-in-arm with Miria.

  “Minor demolition derby. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Richard said, the excitement from what he’d had to do to get here was evident on his face.

  “You OK?” I asked.

  “Yeah, just wondering what’s going on and why you had me bang up my truck getting here,” Richard said.

  I nodded, “OK, it’s time to spill it. Becca, turn down the TV, please.” I stood before them as they settled around the living room, all but Trish.

  “Now, some of what I’m gonna say will sound like a bad movie, but please bear with me until the end. You all know why I came home, the funeral. What you don’t know is that I work in a special missions unit for the Air Force. But that’s not important right now. What’s important is that I’ve been in touch with my unit, and what’s happening here is happening all over the world. It’s not isolated.

  “Some virus is causing people to turn into crazies that attack anyone and everyone and even…eat people. Hang on, I’m not done,” I said as Mark started to say something. “There’s something else. I need to get to an Air Base in San Antonio by tomorrow or else.”

  “Or else what?” Miria asked.

  I pulled my hand out of my pocket and showed how it trembled. “The military gives me a drug that modifies my system. This is a drug I have to take every so many hours, or I begin to withdraw. The withdrawal symptoms turn violent and will lead to death if I don’t get another dose.

  “My entire supply was spoiled on the trip here. Another shipment is being sent to Randolph and should be arriving sometime tomorrow. If I can get there, I can get my medicine and be right as rain. If not…” I let the sentence hang

  “Let me get this straight,” Mark started, “insane people are running around on the streets eating people, and you want to take a road trip right through the middle of it?”

  “Yeah, the TV said the highways are closed,” Becca added. “How do you plan on getting through?”

  “I don’t know,” I started, “but if I don’t, I won’t be around much longer.”

  “What if the shipment doesn’t make it through?” Miria stated. “What happens then?”

  I held up my hands, “I just gotta hope it does.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a plan,” Richard said.

  “I admit, it’s pretty bleak. But what choice do I have?” I sighed.

  “You can finish the process.” All eyes turned to look at Shae, who was still looking outside. She glanced back from the window, “It’s obvious what the military was trying to do. I guarantee your ‘serum’ is some blood derivative; that much I could tell from the smell on you. If you finish what they started, you won’t need to go anywhere.”

  They all looked between Shae and me.

  “James?” Miria said.

  I sighed. “How much more insanity can y’all take for one day?” I muttered.

  “Neighbor’s got company,” Shae said, turning back to the window as a scream echoed from across the street.

  Everyone was up and looking out the front windows now. We could see a figure trying to force its way into the house across the street. The woman who screamed was trying to force the door closed, but the large figure pushing against her was winning bit by bit.

  Ripping the door open, I stepped outside and yelled across the street. “Halt!” I said intelligently, I’d fallen back on my cop training. With my rifle held at low ready, I’d just reached the fence when sound exploded behind me.

  The rifle’s report was loud and echoed back and forth between the two houses. Gore splattered the front door as the figure dropped; its head shattered like a melon.

  I glanced back and saw Shae standing on the porch. She was still looking down the sights of her rifle. The only sound was of the single brass casing clattering as it bounced down the porch stairs. Of all the things, that was the sound that stuck in my head.

  The woman across the street was still trying to close the door. She was crying and yelling, but the figure had fallen against it, impeding her progress.

  “Where’d you learn to shoot? Last I knew, you weren’t a fan of guns,” I said as Shae moved past me.

  “I live in Texas now; it’s a requirement,” Shae said, not looking at me as she cleared the fence gracefully and was across the street before I could turn around. When I caught up, she was pulling the body away from the neighbor’s house. The smell coming off the body gave rise to bad memories from the desert.

  The terrified neighbor had long since closed and bolted the door.

  Shae rolled the corpse onto its back and examined him. The body had several wounds, and its clothes were in tatters. She rolled up its sleeves and examined its arms as if it were the most normal thing. She frowned and rolled the corpse onto its back before pulling up its shirt, and before I could object, she pulled the body’s trousers down.

  “Just as I thought,” she said, standing up. Leaving the body on the lawn, she walked back across the street without a backward glance.

  I looked from her to the corpse and back. I caught up to her on the porch, but she didn’t say anything and went straight to the kitchen to wash. She scrubbed her hands with soap four times until her hands were raw and then turned to me. “Did you see it?”

  By now, everyone had gathered around her in the kitchen.

  “See what?” I asked.

  “Goddess, this is a horror movie,” Shae sighed.

  “What did you see?” Becca asked.

  “First off, the corpse had multiple wounds. None of them were fatal, but there were signs of a struggle. His fingers had been worn down to the bone, literally. The wounds around them weren’t bleeding, and they weren’t coagulated either. Some slimy brown fluid was there. He was also cold, ice-cold. But what finally sold me were the blood pools.”

  “Blood pool? What, like Dirty Harry?” Richard asked.

  “No,” Shae started, “when you die, your blood pools to the lowest part of your body and changes the color of that area. This man died on his back. He had signs of blood pool on his back and rear.”

  “He didn’t die on his back; you blew his head off,” Miria said.

  “No, that man died quite a while ago. It takes hours for blood pool to occur,” Shae said.

  “It's called lividity,” Becca said. “It starts about half an hour after death.”

  “Wait,” Mark held up his hand. “Are you trying to say that man was already dead when you shot him?”

  “Zombies,” I mumbled, shaking my head.

  “Wait a minute, James, I know you were always a fan, but that’s just fiction,” Miria started.

  “You’d be surprised.” Shae grimaced and returned to the front door, where someone had left it wide open. “Rule #1: Close the door during the zombie apocalypse!”

  No one said anything for a moment, and then they all burst out talking at once.

  “There’s no way.”

  “I gotta call my mom.”

  “Seriously, zombies?”

  “There’s gotta be some other explanation.”

  “If anyone’s curious, he’s still out there; feel free to go look yourself,” Shae called from the other room. “But that was the second one I’ve seen today. The previous one had half his face missing and about eight gunshots to the chest, three fatal. But that didn't stop him from strolling around.”

  I started washing my hands and glanced at Shae, “How’d you know?”

  She didn’t say anything, just tapped the side of her nose.

  “No, I mean all that corpse stuff,” I said.

  “I like crime shows,” Shae said flatly.

  I washed my hands twice, even though I hadn’t touched the corpse. I watched the water flow out of the faucet as my mind started to put the past week's events together. The unusual police activity, strange assaults on the news, that bum outside Drakes. *Could this really be happening?* If it was, then we were coming to a crossroads and needed to make plans.

  I left them in the kitchen and went to Shae. “We gotta talk.”

  “Ya think?” she said, not taking her eyes from the window. “Kind of busy right now.”

  “Mark,” I turned to the kitchen. “Come keep a lookout, will ya? I need to talk to Shae.”

  “Sure,” Mark said. “But…”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” Mark shook his head.

  “You load your shells?” After Mark nodded, I turned to Shae and pulled her from the window towards the front bedroom.

  “Miria, get—” I caught myself trying to give orders again. *These aren’t soldiers,* I reminded myself. “Could you get Richard the other shotgun, please?” I lowered my voice so only she could hear. “Make sure nobody goes outside and nobody shoots nothing.”

  Miria nodded as I turned and led Shae to the front bedroom. Closing the door, I started, “OK, how do you know about my ‘condition?’”

  Shae looked at me, “You should know if you really were my tap boy. All it takes is close contact for me to touch your mind. What do you think I was doing that entire bike ride? That sort of touch doesn’t give a lot of detail, but I know most of what you know about your condition.” She locked eyes with me. “The only difference is I get to be objective about it.”

  I knew she could touch my mind when we were “sharing” blood, but I hadn’t known all it took was close contact.

  “Would you like me to show you?” she began to take off one of her earrings, the same half-moon, surgical steel earrings she’d had way back then.

  “What, here, now?” I asked.

  “Trust me, it only takes a moment. Then we’ll finally get to the bottom of what’s going on for both of us.” She saw the hesitation on my face. “James, I can’t drain you right now; you’re in withdrawal. I would probably kill you if I tried. All it takes is a little bit of blood.”

  I looked at the door, went to it, and locked it. “Just…make it quick,” I said.

  “A quickie?” It was the first grin I’d seen from her, and it didn’t exactly put me at ease. “Didn’t think you were the type.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Be serious.”

  She roughly pulled my head to one side, exposing my neck. Leaning in, she inhaled profoundly, making me feel like she was sniffing a bouquet of flowers. I heard her murmur the word “familiar” before she jerked away from me.

  Taking my hand in hers, she used her earring to prick my finger. I watched as she squeezed my finger, making the blood well up, before placing my finger into her mouth. As soon as my finger touched her tongue, I felt something akin to an electric shock run through me as images burst forth in my mind.

  I saw what I wanted to see.

  After the night of my proposal, Shae returned home to find several vampires waiting for her in her hotel room. They were from Pagoda’s clan, and she had an “appointment” to see him immediately. Knowing they couldn’t touch her due to her courier status, she’d taken her time preparing and then went with them to see the head vampire of the Austin territory.

  At Pagoda’s compound, she wasn’t treated as nicely as she was accustomed to and was about to complain to Pagoda when he cut her off. Shae’s master had been killed, and Pagoda was claiming the spoils, including her. While this was customary, it was considered bad form to not ask for the loyalty of the former master’s subjects. Not only did he not ask, but as his men restrained her, he bloodbound her to him by force, enslaving her to Pagoda’s will.

  I felt the pain as Shae’s veins were opened, and she was drained of all blood. I felt her body growing cold and the stopping of her heart. The world seemed to change, all the color draining from it and becoming shades of gray.

  “Yes, you’re almost there.” Pagoda’s face swirled into Shae’s field of vision.

  Her limbs grew heavy, and she was released to collapse on the floor, unable to move. The floor’s flagstones were warm to her cheek, but the sensation quickly faded as the gray world soon dimmed to black.

  There was a flash of blue light behind her eyes, followed by an explosion of colors, sounds, sensations and tastes! The warmth and flavor filled Shae’s mouth, throat, and belly. Her heart began to beat as strength returned to her limbs. Fire shot through her veins, and her vision sharpened to her mouth on Pagoda’s wrist, the animal instinct within drinking deeply.

  Pagoda grabbed Shae by the hair and pulled her away sharply. “Yes, my dear, that will be quite enough of that.” He tossed her across the room with ease.

  Wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve, she stood on wobbly legs and looked about her in confusion. Things didn’t seem right; she didn’t know what was wrong, but something was.

  “It’s alright. The bloodbinding process always leaves one a bit confused.” Pagoda came to her, placing an arm around her shoulder and smelling deeply of her hair. “But I will put everything right, my dear, don’t you worry.”

  ∞?∞

  SHAE

  My nose was near James’s neck, breathing in his scent. *There is something familiar with this one,* I thought. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself about to kiss his neck! I jerked back, my mind swirling. *Why did I almost kiss him?* I thought.

  I sliced his finger and placed it in my mouth. Something jolted through me. I’d never felt anything like it in a bloodtouch before. It surprised me so much that I nearly ripped his finger from my mouth in alarm.

  His mind willingly blossomed at my touch.

  I saw what I wanted to see.

  According to his memories, I’d spent years pursuing this boy. There was no way that was true. I’d never pursued anyone in my life. Yet, some of the brief flashes of his memory felt somehow familiar. The more I tried to focus on those, the more elusive they became. That shouldn’t happen, either. While I was in contact with his mind, I should be able to sift through it as I wished.

  The first of his memories that became clear to me started after Pagoda had taken me.

  After spending a year trying to find me, he finally realized he wouldn’t see me again and joined the military. It was a guaranteed paycheck and promised to get him far away from Austin and the memories of me.

  He stood in a long line of recruits, their sleeves pulled up on both sides. Doctors with hypo-guns hit him in each arm nearly simultaneously. He took a step forward and received two more injections, this time by regular needles. The final stage brought a sharp pain to his forearm for his “TB” test. A week later, a doctor looked at the arm again and made notes on a clipboard. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but we’re going to take a little blood to make sure,” the doctor said.

  He graduated basic, then his military police tech school, then airbase ground defense training in New Jersey. He returned to Austin long enough to get his belongings and was sent to Germany for his first assignment. When he checked in, there were more shots and blood work. “Just routine,” he was always told. Five more years of this passed, and he deployed and changed bases to Louisiana before he was directed to report to the base headquarters.

  A captain sat in the small office he reported to. He took James to a room without windows, and the walls seemed to dampen sound. A Colonel Branche came in and dismissed the captain before placing a folder on the table and dropping heavily into a chair.

  Branche eyed James with a stare that sent a shiver down his back. Opening the folder, the Colonel flipped through a few pages before folding his hands on the folder and saying, “How long did you live with the vampires?”

  It turned out the “TB” test also tested for “tap boy,” the name given to a vampire’s personal “feed bag.” When James tested positive, he’d been monitored and tested on without knowing. James fit the profile they were looking for and was recruited. There were not many TBs in the service, and many weren’t viable for mental reasons.

  The drug they began to give James made him stronger and faster, but his dependence on it became severe. Without it, subjects would die. He wasn’t equal to the power of an actual vampire and had none of the true mental abilities, but he didn’t have any of the allergies we had either. It made him a better soldier for the military, and he received additional training before being farmed out to other services for special operations, including vampire eradication.

  I moved forward to recent memories and grinned when I witnessed him being thrown out of Drakes. A sudden pain burst in my head, causing me to gasp as Pagoda’s forgotten, bloodbinding memory surfaced.

  The link between us broke, and we were back in the bedroom, his finger falling from my mouth.

  “Pagoda took you,” James gasped.

  “You’re a chemical vampire,” I marveled. I’d never heard of such a thing. The fact they’d even tried it blew my mind.

  We stared at one another for a moment, both of our minds trying to get used to being back in our own skulls again. James was the first to recover.

  “Sounds like the name of a bad rock band,” he said as he nursed his finger.

  “The bloodbinding…it’s the most powerful bond we have,” I started, my mind racing. “The one giving the blood has complete control over the one taking it…the mindtouch is strong, nearly complete. He could have done anything while in my mind,” I know I was rambling, but I didn’t care. How could I have forgotten a bloodbinding? I paced the room, hugging myself tightly, almost as if trying to keep from flying apart.

  The next thing I knew, James was approaching me, looking like he wanted to hug me. I put out a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” I said sharply. “Just leave me be.” I hadn’t realized I’d started chewing on my nails, a habit I’d broken ages ago.

  “No,” he said as he stepped closer to me.

  My retreat ended suddenly as I backed into a desk. I held up both arms to hold him back as my confused mind tried to play catch-up with everything I’d seen.

  He did stop as soon as his chest touched my arms. He didn’t push against me; he just stood there and slowly raised his hands until they touched my arms.

  I shoved him away violently, “I said don’t touch me!”

  He held up his hands in compliance.

  I was confused by his memories and the fact that some of my own now seemed questionable. It was like everything in his mind threw my world on its side. I didn’t understand what was real anymore as my head swam.

  “Wait,” I said, realizing what he’d said. “You said Pagoda took me. Did you see my bloodbinding?”

  “Well, yeah,” he said.

  “You shouldn’t be able to do that. Bloodtouch is one way unless we both shed blood. You shouldn’t be able to see into my mind. How did you do that?” I asked.

  “I dunno. It just happened.”

  “Nothing good ever ‘just happens,’” I said.

  “What did you see?” he asked.

  “A few things.” I was quiet for a moment. “Even though I saw some of your memories through your eyes, I still don’t remember our ‘courting,’” I admitted.

  “Can you believe it?” he asked.

  I was quiet for a while, thinking. “I don’t know,” I finally said.

  “I can work with that,” he said quietly.

  A small smile tried to curl across my face, but I stifled it. I felt…odd…this wasn’t how things worked. This man was wrong, that much I knew for sure, but I didn’t know in what way. He seemed to be something new, and I hadn’t seen anything new in a long time. Maybe some of the old rules were bending. Either way, my head was starting to hurt from all the confusion.

  “OK,” I said, breaking whatever moment we’d been having. “Everything else aside, we need to take stock of where we’re at right now.”

  “Well,” he sighed, “the zombie apocalypse is upon us. I’m out of dope, and there’s nearly 100 kilometers of zombie-infested highway between me and my next dose...maybe.”

  “Yeah, about that…” I started.