Zombie Rock

Sweet Child of Mine

Chapter One: Sweet Child of Mine

I know what everyone wants to hear about, but before we get to the Zombie not-quite-apocalypse, I should introduce you to your narrator-me. My name's Jackson Gibson, but everyone calls me Jack. I'm seventeen, six feet tall, and completely screwed.

Now, for you to understand how I've ended up in my current situation, you need to hear The Story. I'd heard The Story dozens of times, of course. Mom always believed in honesty, so when I, being a curious child, wanted to know why other kids had dads and grandparents, she told me the truth. Just a disclaimer before we begin. Remember, I wasn't there, at least not officially, so this comes from what I've been told. Don't blame me if it seems a bit one-sided. I don't know the other side.

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Susanna Gibson hadn't been home in six months. Osborne seemed even smaller than it had when she'd left to go on tour with her boyfriend's band, The Hairy Trolls. They'd gone to Chicago, Dallas, Austin, Miami, LA, New York City, and a dozen smaller cities she couldn't remember the names of. Each one reminded her of how glad she was to be away from her backwoods hometown. Now, Chad was driving her back to the trailer park where she grew up. Nothing had changed, she thought, as the car came to a stop in front of the place she'd run from just two months before her seventeenth birthday. She glanced in the rear-view mirror. Golden curls, crystal-blue eyes - those were the same, but the dark circles under her eyes were new.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Chad's voice choked. His dark red hair was wild and long, as out of place in Osborne as his tattoos and music.

Susanna could hear the tremor in her voice. "It doesn't matter what I want," she said, fighting back the hot tears that burned her eyes. "We have to do what's right."

"I'll come back-"

"No, Chad, you need to focus on your music." The words killed her, but she knew they were necessary. "You have so much to say and you need to say it." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Write a song for me."

Chad nodded. Tears glistened in his eyes as Susanna climbed out of the truck. She wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks and waved as he drove away. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry, but she couldn't. Not yet.

It didn't surprise her that the front door was unlocked. Residents of Osborne never locked their doors. She took two steps into the main room before the woman sitting on the couch looked up. If Vera Gibson was surprised to see her only child, she didn't show it.

"Hi, Mom," Susanna said, letting her bag drop to the floor.

"You're back." Vera turned her attention back to the television. Her stringy gray-blond hair hung around her lined face, and the ever-present cigarette dangled from her fingers. "That boyfriend of yours get tired of you following him around?"

Susanna took a deep breath, fighting back her frustration. A deep weariness crept over her. She didn't have the strength to be evasive. "No, Mom, I came back because I'm pregnant."

Vera snorted. "Can't say it surprises me. I told you no good would come from hanging with that boy."

"Thanks for the support," Susanna said dryly. Her parents had never been fond of Chad to begin with - their idea of good music was anything that mentioned drinking, cheating, shotguns, or trucks...preferably all combined.

"Sorry if I'm not being all nice and sympathetic." Vera took a drag of her cigarette. "We tried to raise you right. You did this to yourself, you know, just wait till your daddy hears. He's been spending all his time down at the church, and he won't take this well."

Susanna sighed. She could already feel the town closing in on her. "We'll just see how it goes." She picked up her bag. "Is my room still here?"

Vera nodded. "Just shove the boxes out of the way. But don't break nothin'. That's my Mary Kay."