Dead Country (Book #1)

Chapter 28: Unknown Cause

By the time I checked in on my dad, he was snoring loudly. I closed the door to his room so the sound didn't travel, then headed to my own to read for the remainder of the afternoon until dinner. My dad seemed groggy when he woke up, but otherwise fine while we ate. Afterward he went downstairs to tinker with a few things, while I went back to my room to watch a movie.

"I'm going to bed," announced my dad, peering into my dark room.

"All right, g'night." I yawned as he shuffled off, the sound of a closing door coming from the hallway.

After another movie, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, then readied myself for bed with my current book. Barely able to finish one chapter – my eyelids too heavy to keep open – I set it down and curled up under the sheets for the night.

In the morning I laid in bed, unable to fall back to sleep. It was still rather early, but I figured I would get a head-start on the day. As I passed by my dad's bedroom without much thought, I carried on down the hallway and into the kitchen. The house was a bit chilly, so I was wearing socks and sweatpants as I prepared my breakfast.

Standing at the kitchen sink as I washed my bowl, I looked out into the front yard, a thin fog still dissipating. Careful to not make excessive noise, I made my way back to my bedroom after drying my hands. I peeked through my blinds to take a look at the fence, but the fog surrounding it hadn't lifted completely. There were only two silhouettes visible as I squinted my eyes, trying to wait out mother nature's cloak. Finally giving up as a third barely came into view, I decided to read some more from my book before officially starting my day. I was certain the fog would have lifted completely in about an hour, so I would also check on my dad at that time.

Closing the book with the marker in place, I set it down on my dresser and exited my room. Right hand on the door knob, I twisted it and pushed the door open into my dad's bedroom. He was still sleeping, but I figured I would check on him anyway.

"Hey," I whispered. "Wake up."

I waited for a few seconds. Usually he would wake up regardless of how tired he was.

"C'mon, old man," stepping further into his room, closer to his bed. "Dad?"

Inching closer to his bedside, he laid motionless like he normally did. Nothing seemed out of place, other than his stubbornness to wake up. I pressed down on his leg with my fingertips, rocking him gently. Still, nothing.

Dead to the world? I thought, that couldn't be right. No one except me slept like a bump on a log. Beginning to panic, I pulled at the bed sheets that came up to his neck. He didn't move, or even blink as I completely uncovered his chest.

His arms were crossed over one another like a mummy – not an unusual pose considering I sometimes slept the exact same way. A faded blue t-shirt covered his torso, while boxers covered his lower half as I fully pulled the sheets off him. Something I had done should have woken him up.

My hand slowly reached forward, gently touching down on his ice cold arm. A chill ran down my spine as I jumped back.

"Dad?" I waited for him to respond, but again he didn't stir. "You playin' around?"

Face twisting as worry and fear consumed me, I began to accept my father's death. No one woke up alive that cold. The one and only time I ever felt someone that cold was at a funeral when someone forced me to touch a deceased relative's hand. It was the same feeling. If he had just come in from a blizzard I would have thought different, but no... he... he was gone.

During the middle of the night he must have died. There was no explanation, no sign of anything. He said he was tired, so he took a nap, then ate dinner like nothing was wrong.

What the hell? Confused beyond measure, my contorted face began to ache. I wanted to cry. Tears wouldn't come though. I was choked up emotionally, unable to let anything out. The only thing I could do was feel a headache brewing in the very centre of my forehead, extending outward into my eyebrows.

Now down on my knees, I swayed back and forth as if vertigo was consuming me. I rarely ever got headaches in my life, unless of course I was in mourning...

Was my dad really dead?

No, he couldn't be.

There were no bite marks.

He's not even infected!

Standing up slowly, I felt a rush of blood go to my head. Stabilizing myself on a bedpost, I inspected his entire body, pushing the cold shock out of my mind. Even as I rolled him part way to look at his back, I couldn't find a single mark. Did that mean he wasn't going to turn?

I had no idea what to expect next. Tears began to build as the hot pressure subsided from my head. I needed to kill something.

Without much though, I retrieved my hammer and tire iron from the garage, threw on my steel-toe boots, then marched outside. The evidence of fog was gone as the door barely closed behind me. I placed the hammer in my right hand and tire iron in the left as I marched around the garage into the backyard.

Four zombies in total remained from the horde that had passed through last night. Two were caught on the fence, which I paid no mind. The other two looked up at me as they stood silently, waiting for something to happen.

Opening its mouth, the closest one advanced toward me, but I rushed toward it before it could even raise its arms. I smashed the hammer across its face, guts spraying everywhere. Once, twice, three times, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine? I lost track of how many times I hit it before the other one grabbed my bare shoulder, nearly taking a chunk out of my bicep.

Before it sunk its teeth into my flesh, I shoved the tire iron into its throat and pushed its face away. I thrust upward into a standing position, then kicked it in the ribs, shattering what my boot came into contact with. It continued wrestling with me, trying to squeeze my shoulder to the point where it broke the skin.

In the blink of an eye I freed my right arm just enough to swing the hammer. It smashed sideways into the zombie's skull, knocking it off balance. Free from its grasp, I clubbed it with the rounded end of the tire iron, then readjusted the hammer before smashing it straight through the temple.

As I watched the zombie crumple on top the other one, I screamed. I didn't care if all the undead bastards in the world could hear me. Breathing through my nose, I felt nothing but anger as I began smashing the rest of the second zombie's skull in.

Once satisfied with flattened skulls of the first two, I made my way over to the remaining couple caught on the fence. The male zombie went down first, his head disconnecting, then tumbling along the grass. I moved onto the female, her head exploding as I swung the weapons in unison into either side of her decaying face.

Opening my eyes, I saw my weapons and hands completely covered in flesh, blood, brain matter, and what I assumed to be bits of eyeballs and cartilage. My whole body shook as I heard the head groaning on the ground ten feet from me. I turned toward it, lowering my arms. With one swift stomp of my boot I squashed it like a giant zit, contents spraying out in every direction, even onto my sweatpants.

I looked around for more challengers as I continued breathing deeply through my nostrils. If there had been more I would have taken them all on, even if that meant the horde returning for me. There was nothing left for me now. I should have let the zombie bite me, but I didn't. Stupid mistake...

"I'm such a mess", I mumbled, falling to my knees with eyes closed, mouth ajar.