*takes a deep breath* ZOMBIEEE… NESS… STORY… THING… AMAJIG!!! *pant, pant*
Here I go!!
Here I go!!
————
I was on the flight from Japan with two of my friends. We were ready to be home after taking a two week long ‘field trip’ to expand our Japanese knowledge. Well, Emily and I were ready, anyway. Jennifer was already ready to go back after only half an hour on the plane.
“You know,” she started, in Japanese. Emily groaned.
“Jen, I've been hearing Japanese nearly non-stop for two weeks. English, please?”
Jennifer sighed. “But you’re forgetting. You won’t hear Japanese again for a long while. Probably years!” She was speaking English again, to both mine and Emily’s relief.
“No, you’re forgetting. I’ll be hearing you. And we still watch Detective Conan together, so we’re good!”
“Okay…” Jennifer said, giving in. “You know,” she started again. “We’re going into the past.”
This time, it was my turn to groan. “Jennifer, I’m tired. I don’t want to think right now.”
“You can’t be tired,” Jennifer said, reaching over Emily and pulling me off the window I was leaning on. “It’s only thirty minutes ’till noon in America. Well, Colorado, anyway.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m still in Japan,” I replied, leaning back on the window.
Jennifer sighed, put her elbow on the arm rest, chin in hand, and looked out at the other passengers.
Emily and I were content that Jen was leaving us alone, Em lay on me, and within minutes we were asleep.
“You know,” she started, in Japanese. Emily groaned.
“Jen, I've been hearing Japanese nearly non-stop for two weeks. English, please?”
Jennifer sighed. “But you’re forgetting. You won’t hear Japanese again for a long while. Probably years!” She was speaking English again, to both mine and Emily’s relief.
“No, you’re forgetting. I’ll be hearing you. And we still watch Detective Conan together, so we’re good!”
“Okay…” Jennifer said, giving in. “You know,” she started again. “We’re going into the past.”
This time, it was my turn to groan. “Jennifer, I’m tired. I don’t want to think right now.”
“You can’t be tired,” Jennifer said, reaching over Emily and pulling me off the window I was leaning on. “It’s only thirty minutes ’till noon in America. Well, Colorado, anyway.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m still in Japan,” I replied, leaning back on the window.
Jennifer sighed, put her elbow on the arm rest, chin in hand, and looked out at the other passengers.
Emily and I were content that Jen was leaving us alone, Em lay on me, and within minutes we were asleep.
The welcoming commitee we got when we finally (finally meaning eleven hours) arrived in Colorado was, to say the least, not what we expected. There were little employees when we got off the plane, the few there not saying anything much, and there was an awful smell in the air that I couldn’t place. What was more was the employees gave us all our luggage saying that the rails on the first floor were not in operation.
As we walked around the airport, all we saw were ruined displays, and tiny groups of people every now and then, packed with guns. To ease our nervousness, Emily, Jennifer and I all held hands, Emily in the middle, since she was the youngest, which made it difficult to drag along our suitcases, but we got on all right. When we reached the elevator, we saw the were doors open, and the shaft exposed. Emily wanted to keep going, but Jen and I just stared, trying to figure out what was going on.
Emily was walking toward the escalators as hard as she could, but refused to let go of our hands. “Come on!” She said, trying in vain to drag us along. “Bianca, Jennifer, please, let’s just go!”
I covered Emily’s mouth instinctively, shhing her. “It would be unwise to leave this building before we know what’s happening,” I told her calmly, and she stopped fighting. I took my hand off her mouth.
While I was talking to Em, the elevator had raised an inch or two, and we all stared at it in worry. After a small amount of time, a pair of eyes could be seen in the crack.They were a lovely green, and they made me miss my friend Timothy more than I already was.
“Aha, I thought I heard you, Emily!” Said a voice that came from the elevator. My heart pounded. The voice sounded like Timothy, Emily’s older brother.
“Tim?” Emily said hesitantly. The elevator raised another few inches to reveal Jennifer’s father, and my older brother, Jonathan. Jonathan, my genius of a twin, had set up a pulley system in the elevator so he could control it. However, the first thing I noticed was each person was holding at least one gun, as well as skinning knife at their hips.
“What’s going on?” I asked Jennifer’s father, Mr. Drew.
“What I’ve always said was going to happen.” He replied seriously.
Naturally, I was quizzical. Mr. Drew had always believed that the zombie apocalypse was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.
My brother recognized the look on my face. “It’s true,” He said, rather quietly. John and I always used to make fun of how Mr. Drew believed there was going to be a zombie apocalypse, and Jonathan’s face showed that he regretted doing it. “We would be dead if it weren’t for Mr. Drew.”
“Get in,” said Timothy, backing away from the entrance and gesturing to us.
Before I knew it, we were all armed and in Mr. Drew’s ‘Black Van for the Apocalypse’. Out of all of us, Jennifer was the most confused. She always thought her Dad was going just a little insane, since he started going on about it a week after her Mom died.
Mr. Drew put us in the back of his van so ‘we would be safe from the horror’, as he said. In other words, he didn’t want us to see where we were going, but of course I knew already. He had turned his basement into a safehouse years ago.
Timothy and Jonathan were in the back with us, telling the story of how it happened, but I wasn’t really listening. All that I absorbed was that it started, to their knowledge, 9 hours ago, and that the two of them were together at the time. They didn’t know exactly how it all began, just that the already dead weren’t coming out of their graves, but that the living became undead. They also told us not to trust just anyone, because there were some who would look alive and would turn out to be fresh undead.
I was staring at Jonathan. I had a question on my face, and no one could read my face like Jon could. However, he was avoiding my gaze. He probably was anticipating my question, and didn’t want to answer. Eventually, when there was a quiet moment, I looked right at Jonathan and said, “Jon?”
Naturally, he looked at me, for a just a second. No one could read my face like Jon could, but no one could read Jon’s face like I could. He had heard nothing from our parents and little sister. Devastated, I went into a corner in the back and started crying, as quietly as I could.
Less than a minute later, I felt someone hugging me. At first, I believed it was Jonathan, but this hug felt different, and it wasn’t a girl. After a while, I dried my eyes and turned around. I was faced with Timothy. My Mom probably would have told me not to hug him, but I was depressed and he was offering comfort. I grabbed him and held him tightly, sobbing into his arm. He rubbed my back silently. After a little while, he started whispering; “I know, I know. Let it out, it’s okay.”
I started crying harder. He wasn’t telling me it was okay, like he always said in my dreams when something bad happened. This wasn’t a dream.
When we arrived at the safehouse, Mr. Drew looked back at us saying; “Okay, we’re here! Jonathan, Timothy, go out first and cover the girls!”
We all put on mufflers Mr. Drew had provided and left the van to find a hoard of undead surrounding the house. Tim and Jon led the way, shooting as many zombies as they could with their machine guns.
I was out of it, as if everything I heard and saw was unreal, or my mind wasn’t with my body. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the couch in the Drew’s basement, my eyes red from crying.
Jennifer was sitting on my right, her face blank and her body disconnected. Timothy was sitting on the floor on the other side, holding my hand, asleep. Emily was sitting on a chair with her knees tucked under her, reading Harry Potter. My brother was rocking in a rocking chair, staring at mine and Timothy’s hands, still holding his machine gun.
Seeing an almost violent look in Jonathan’s eyes, I quickly pulled my hand out of Tim’s. Jonathan looked up at me.
“You’re here,” he said.
“I wish I weren't.” I replied.
“You know, Bi… you didn't murder it.”
I looked at him, confused. “What?”
Jonathan stopped rocking. “I know you were traumatized, but I didn't think you’d block it out.” He leaned forward. “You shot an undead, Bianca. Soon afterwards, and before we got down here, you kept saying you weren't a murderer, since it was already dead. I kept telling you, though, there was no way you’d killed it. The bullets only stun them for a while, you have to cut out their hearts to murder them. Well, as soon as we got down here, you rolled yourself up in a ball and rocked back and forth for an hour or so. I kinda thought you’d never stop.”
“And Jennifer?” I looked over at Jennifer.
“I’m here,” Jen replied. “I’m just turning everything over in my mind.”
“‘Kay.” I looked around. “Where’s Mr. Drew?”
“He went to bed. I was surprised he was willing to leave us here, but he assured us it was safe,” was the reply from my twin.
“Believe me,” Jen said, “Dad made this place practically impossible to get into.”
“We’re gonna need it,” Jon said.
Suddenly, I stood up. “Our bags!”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Drew got them,” Jon said, smiling slightly.
“They’re all in our room,” Jennifer said, gesturing to the left, where I saw a small space for three doors, all facing different directions.
“Which one?” I asked.
“The left one,” Jon answered. “Mr. Drew’s room is the one straight across, and apparently, Timothy and I are sharing the last room.”
“Oh,” I said. “How many beds each room?”
“One king sized bed,” Jennifer replied. “ I've never been down here before, but I've certainly seen Dad move stuff here, and now that I’m seeing everything, it’s all coming together.” She paused, then added, “oh, Tim might be disappointed by the lack of video games.”
“He certainly will be,” I said grinning, then looked down the side of the couch to see Timothy hugging his gun in his sleep. “You know,” I said, starting to mess with his brownish hair, “when he wakes up.”
As we walked around the airport, all we saw were ruined displays, and tiny groups of people every now and then, packed with guns. To ease our nervousness, Emily, Jennifer and I all held hands, Emily in the middle, since she was the youngest, which made it difficult to drag along our suitcases, but we got on all right. When we reached the elevator, we saw the were doors open, and the shaft exposed. Emily wanted to keep going, but Jen and I just stared, trying to figure out what was going on.
Emily was walking toward the escalators as hard as she could, but refused to let go of our hands. “Come on!” She said, trying in vain to drag us along. “Bianca, Jennifer, please, let’s just go!”
I covered Emily’s mouth instinctively, shhing her. “It would be unwise to leave this building before we know what’s happening,” I told her calmly, and she stopped fighting. I took my hand off her mouth.
While I was talking to Em, the elevator had raised an inch or two, and we all stared at it in worry. After a small amount of time, a pair of eyes could be seen in the crack.They were a lovely green, and they made me miss my friend Timothy more than I already was.
“Aha, I thought I heard you, Emily!” Said a voice that came from the elevator. My heart pounded. The voice sounded like Timothy, Emily’s older brother.
“Tim?” Emily said hesitantly. The elevator raised another few inches to reveal Jennifer’s father, and my older brother, Jonathan. Jonathan, my genius of a twin, had set up a pulley system in the elevator so he could control it. However, the first thing I noticed was each person was holding at least one gun, as well as skinning knife at their hips.
“What’s going on?” I asked Jennifer’s father, Mr. Drew.
“What I’ve always said was going to happen.” He replied seriously.
Naturally, I was quizzical. Mr. Drew had always believed that the zombie apocalypse was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.
My brother recognized the look on my face. “It’s true,” He said, rather quietly. John and I always used to make fun of how Mr. Drew believed there was going to be a zombie apocalypse, and Jonathan’s face showed that he regretted doing it. “We would be dead if it weren’t for Mr. Drew.”
“Get in,” said Timothy, backing away from the entrance and gesturing to us.
Before I knew it, we were all armed and in Mr. Drew’s ‘Black Van for the Apocalypse’. Out of all of us, Jennifer was the most confused. She always thought her Dad was going just a little insane, since he started going on about it a week after her Mom died.
Mr. Drew put us in the back of his van so ‘we would be safe from the horror’, as he said. In other words, he didn’t want us to see where we were going, but of course I knew already. He had turned his basement into a safehouse years ago.
Timothy and Jonathan were in the back with us, telling the story of how it happened, but I wasn’t really listening. All that I absorbed was that it started, to their knowledge, 9 hours ago, and that the two of them were together at the time. They didn’t know exactly how it all began, just that the already dead weren’t coming out of their graves, but that the living became undead. They also told us not to trust just anyone, because there were some who would look alive and would turn out to be fresh undead.
I was staring at Jonathan. I had a question on my face, and no one could read my face like Jon could. However, he was avoiding my gaze. He probably was anticipating my question, and didn’t want to answer. Eventually, when there was a quiet moment, I looked right at Jonathan and said, “Jon?”
Naturally, he looked at me, for a just a second. No one could read my face like Jon could, but no one could read Jon’s face like I could. He had heard nothing from our parents and little sister. Devastated, I went into a corner in the back and started crying, as quietly as I could.
Less than a minute later, I felt someone hugging me. At first, I believed it was Jonathan, but this hug felt different, and it wasn’t a girl. After a while, I dried my eyes and turned around. I was faced with Timothy. My Mom probably would have told me not to hug him, but I was depressed and he was offering comfort. I grabbed him and held him tightly, sobbing into his arm. He rubbed my back silently. After a little while, he started whispering; “I know, I know. Let it out, it’s okay.”
I started crying harder. He wasn’t telling me it was okay, like he always said in my dreams when something bad happened. This wasn’t a dream.
When we arrived at the safehouse, Mr. Drew looked back at us saying; “Okay, we’re here! Jonathan, Timothy, go out first and cover the girls!”
We all put on mufflers Mr. Drew had provided and left the van to find a hoard of undead surrounding the house. Tim and Jon led the way, shooting as many zombies as they could with their machine guns.
I was out of it, as if everything I heard and saw was unreal, or my mind wasn’t with my body. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the couch in the Drew’s basement, my eyes red from crying.
Jennifer was sitting on my right, her face blank and her body disconnected. Timothy was sitting on the floor on the other side, holding my hand, asleep. Emily was sitting on a chair with her knees tucked under her, reading Harry Potter. My brother was rocking in a rocking chair, staring at mine and Timothy’s hands, still holding his machine gun.
Seeing an almost violent look in Jonathan’s eyes, I quickly pulled my hand out of Tim’s. Jonathan looked up at me.
“You’re here,” he said.
“I wish I weren't.” I replied.
“You know, Bi… you didn't murder it.”
I looked at him, confused. “What?”
Jonathan stopped rocking. “I know you were traumatized, but I didn't think you’d block it out.” He leaned forward. “You shot an undead, Bianca. Soon afterwards, and before we got down here, you kept saying you weren't a murderer, since it was already dead. I kept telling you, though, there was no way you’d killed it. The bullets only stun them for a while, you have to cut out their hearts to murder them. Well, as soon as we got down here, you rolled yourself up in a ball and rocked back and forth for an hour or so. I kinda thought you’d never stop.”
“And Jennifer?” I looked over at Jennifer.
“I’m here,” Jen replied. “I’m just turning everything over in my mind.”
“‘Kay.” I looked around. “Where’s Mr. Drew?”
“He went to bed. I was surprised he was willing to leave us here, but he assured us it was safe,” was the reply from my twin.
“Believe me,” Jen said, “Dad made this place practically impossible to get into.”
“We’re gonna need it,” Jon said.
Suddenly, I stood up. “Our bags!”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Drew got them,” Jon said, smiling slightly.
“They’re all in our room,” Jennifer said, gesturing to the left, where I saw a small space for three doors, all facing different directions.
“Which one?” I asked.
“The left one,” Jon answered. “Mr. Drew’s room is the one straight across, and apparently, Timothy and I are sharing the last room.”
“Oh,” I said. “How many beds each room?”
“One king sized bed,” Jennifer replied. “ I've never been down here before, but I've certainly seen Dad move stuff here, and now that I’m seeing everything, it’s all coming together.” She paused, then added, “oh, Tim might be disappointed by the lack of video games.”
“He certainly will be,” I said grinning, then looked down the side of the couch to see Timothy hugging his gun in his sleep. “You know,” I said, starting to mess with his brownish hair, “when he wakes up.”
————
Let me know of any typos, please!! :D
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