Resurrection: A Zombie Novel - - (the best motivational books txt) 📗

Aside from the raging of the thing that used to be Parker, a day passed in tense silence. No one knew what to do with themselves or what to say.

Hughes spent most of his time on the front steps staring out at the sea and listening to the bellowing from upstairs next door. He had to keep at least an ear on Parker in case the man somehow broke free. There was no way to be sure Parker wouldn’t rip through his ropes and break down the door in the state he was in.

Annie stayed in her bedroom. Kyle sulked on the couch and in the kitchen, his presence and energy baleful enough to keep the others away. Frank wandered around the property, never venturing far in case something happened. Meanwhile, Parker’s voice thundered hard enough to blow down the walls.

Hughes couldn’t sleep. The guilt got to him. He, Kyle, and Frank would not be able to get a vaccine from Annie’s blood even if Parker did happen to recover. Maybe they shared her blood type and maybe they didn’t. There was no way to tell. It’s not like the Red Cross had an office nearby where they could get tested. Pharmacies had instant pregnancy-test kits, but they did not carry blood kits. They’d need a doctor for that, and a lab. Hughes doubted a functioning medical facility existed anywhere within 1,000 miles of the Puget Sound region. Maybe on the East Coast something was still up and running. Maybe.

So Hughes just lay there in the darkness and stared at the ceiling, hating himself and what they’d done to Parker. Their nasty experiment would have been justified if it produced a vaccine, but they had not thought it through.

The thing that used to be Parker finally quieted down, but Hughes still couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t take the suspense or the weight of what would happen next. What if Parker did recover? There was a forty-percent chance that he shared Annie’s blood type, after all. And maybe the inoculation would work. Then what? Hughes no longer had it in him to shoot Parker. Not if Parker recovered. Hughes could have shot him that night on the cliff, sure, no problem, but he couldn’t execute a man who was tied to a chair after putting him through such unspeakable hell.

Something else bothered him too. Annie had amnesia for a while after she came back. Parker might too. He might not have any idea what had happened. He might not remember that he tried to kill Kyle. He might not remember coming up to the island. He might not remember Kyle at all or that the plague even existed. He’d be innocent in his mind. Innocent and confused. Then what? Shoot him anyway?

No.

Hughes could never execute a man for a crime he didn’t remember committing. Wasn’t right. He wouldn’t do it.

Nor would he allow it.

Would Kyle be willing? Really? What would Annie think of him then?

Hughes thought he heard sounds coming from the next house. Moaning. Parker. The moaning sounded—human. Was Parker awake? Had he recovered?

Hughes bolted off his bed and grabbed a flashlight. He heard doors opening in the hallway. The others were also awake and must have been thinking the same thing.

They converged in the hall. Annie looked as if she had not slept for days. Kyle looked nervous. Frank was just beat.

“I’ll bring the shotgun,” Hughes said. “Nobody else bring any weapons.”

“I’m bringing one of the Glocks,” Kyle said.

“The hell you are,” Hughes said.

“Kyle, no,” Annie said.

“Goddamnit, you guys,” Kyle said. “I’m not going to shoot him right now, but we don’t know what kind of state he’s in. He might still be dangerous. He could have torn through his ropes.”

“That’s why I’m bringing the shotgun,” Hughes said. “And you will stand down. Leave the Glock.”

“Fine!” Kyle said.

Hughes led the others through the dark and into the main house. Was it just his imagination or was the corpse in the living room getting riper by the hour?

They crept up the stairs.

Annie opened the door.

When he shone his flashlight on Parker, Hughes could see that the man was still tied. Tied up, hunched over, exhausted, and in terrible pain. A dried pool of brain matter and blood covered the floor where the thing that bit Parker was shot, but it looked like Parker had vomited the gore up himself in the night.

“Hey man,” Frank said and knelt next to Parker, taking care to avoid the dried blood. He put his hand on Parker’s shoulder.

“Careful, Frank!” Hughes said.

“It’s okay,” Frank said. “He’s passed out.”

“You don’t know if he’s—”

Parker snapped his teeth around Frank’s thumb and index finger and clenched like he wanted to chew them clean off.

Frank screamed.

“Jesus Christ!” Kyle said.

Annie gasped and backed into the far wall.

The thing that used to be Parker growled and gnashed his teeth together around Frank’s thumb while Frank screamed and pummeled Parker’s head with his free hand.

Hughes pointed the shotgun at Parker, but he couldn’t shoot or he’d hit Frank.

“Get him off me!” Frank shouted.

“Jesus, Parker, shoot him!” Kyle said.

“Oh, God, get him off me!” Frank said.

Hughes jammed the butt of his shotgun into the side of Parker’s head, splitting one of his ears open. Frank pulled his hand free and Annie rushed up and helped him get away.

“Fuck me,” Hughes said. The thing that used to be Parker looked at him with inhuman malevolence and growled like a wolf ready to pounce and rip out his throat. “I ought to blow your head off right now.”

The thing that used to be Parker screamed. Crimson blood covered his teeth and his chin, the muscles between his eyes curled into a knot of aggression.

“Do it!” Kyle said.

“God!” Frank yelled.

Not yet, Hughes thought. How long did Annie say she lasted as one of those things? Shit. She didn’t know. The experience warped her sense of time beyond recognition.

A trail of drizzled blood led from Parker’s chair to the corner of the room where Frank sat moaning in pain with his chewed-up hand in his lap and Annie’s arm around his shoulder.

Goddamn it. Hughes was going to have to put down another one of his friends. It never got any easier. Maybe that was okay. Maybe it shouldn’t get any easier.

“Everybody out,” Hughes said. “Kyle, help Frank.”

“No one can help me,” Frank said.

Nobody said anything.

Kyle took Frank’s left hand, his good hand, and pulled him up. “Come on, man. Let’s get you out of here.”

The thing that used to be Parker screamed again. It sounded nothing like Parker and hardly even looked like him anymore.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Frank said. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded defeated, resigned, as if he’d known for months he’d get bitten eventually.

Kyle and Annie each took one of Frank’s arms and led him out into the hallway. Hughes looked one last time at the thing that used to be Parker, shook his head, closed the door, and slammed home the lock.