He walks to the baked goods department, frowning and humming in thought, stroking his stubbled chin. A speckling of gold that blends into his shaggy dirt blond hair, green eyes examining every piece of cake he can. He feels a pair of arms slide beneath him, into an almost hug, a large protrusion against his back.
“Hey, honey. What do you think? After Eliza’s, I’m going to need to buy the boys a cake, for all the work they’ve done at the site.” He asks, a feminine hum behind him contemplating for a second.
“That one.” She says, pointing to a square cake with chocolate and caramel. “You could also invite them over”
He looks down at her, a lighter blonde, with the cutest freckles and even lighter blue eyes. “Good choice as always. How’s Jr doing?” He asks, turning around fully so he can embrace her, as her own hands go down to her pregnant belly.
“Kicking. I don’t doubt he’ll be screaming as well as soon as he’s out.” She says, before looking towards the bakery signage with a LED number display. “Oh, that's our number!”
“Don’t worry, Anne, you stay here and look pretty, I’ll get it.” He grins at her, her pouting in response and following him anyways, but quickly being drawn towards the decorations section of the store, looking immediately for candles.
“Hi, I’m here to pick up a cake for Eliza?” He says, placing the ticket on the counter, C-333. Looking back to his wife, as the attendant nods in response, picking up the ticket and going behind a massive looking piece of cooking machinery. She’s soon out, holding a glorious pink square cake, with frills and a t-rex in a princess dress drawn on top.
“Here it is, Happy 9th Birthday to the lucky girl!” She says, looking over his shoulder, towards his wife waddling her way to him, leaning on the cart, now sporting a pair of pink candles at the top of the pile. “Oh! How far along are you ma’am?” She asks.
“I’m 8 months in.” She smiles, feeling her belly, as her husband and the attendant carefully carry the cake into the cart. “Henry Jr, here is going to be our third.”
They quickly make their way out of the store, having paid the cashier their due, wanting to get home early for the preparations. Soon after leaving the store, a strange man in a torn lab coat and razzled hair bumps into Henry, almost losing grip of whatever was in his arms. “Whoa there, are you okay?” The man pushes himself away at his question.
He looks up, and with a richtor of anger upon his face, framed by a set of half broken glasses, he shouts at him. “Get the hell away!” His words are sharp, and biting. “Dieser Stoff ist sehr flüchtig!”
“Huh- sorry?- Excuse me, sir, but you bumped into me.”
“Gah!” the man runs off, he seems to have a limp. And as Henry looks back, it seems like the man was looking around wildly, as if he was looking for something or someone, almost paranoid. By the looks of it, he had been running for miles.
“What the hell was that about?” his wife asks, and her husband shrugs. “What was he carrying? It stank like hell! A hint of sulfur and… well, death.”
“It's better to leave him alone, guy doesn't seem right.”
The doctor looks to where he came from, and there's a pile of smoke from a distance, near the newly built Black Rose hospital.
-
In the car, the radio station interrupts the song being played. “God I hate when they do that, can't they just let us listen to music?” the woman says, changing the station. A good song comes on but it's soon replaced by another interruption. “Ugh” she presses the mute button. She seems fairly irritable.
“Use my phone, put on a song you like from that one app.” he says, looking towards the road. Cars seem faster and slightly more reckless than usual.
As he turns a corner, there's a homeless man standing stiff, a slight twitch to his arms. “Damn shame, Reggie’s using again.”
“You saw Reggie?” she asks, confused
“Yeah, he was twitching.”
“Honey, Reggie passed away a week ago, remember when the cops showed up to stop the street racers at like 3 in the morning? He got squashed by one of those assholes that crashed into a light pole.”
“First time I'm hearing of that. But I swear I just saw him… whatever. I hope Mason finishes decorating before Eliza gets off the school bus.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
A young man, no older than 17, places a step stool in front of the entrance from the dining room to the kitchen. In his hands are a few decorations he needs to hang up as well as a box of thumbtacks. “Alright this goes here.” He pushes into one end of a banner with a tack, “Then here” he pins one in the middle. And once he finishes the last one, he steps back and reads aloud, smiling to himself. “Happy birthday Eliza.”
After that, he blows up some balloons and hangs them around the house.
After a few more pieces of decor are set up, he heads upstairs into his room, and pulls out a box from under his bed. Inside the box is a plush, a bear with a card in its hands “Happy birthday Ellie, this teddy bear will always protect you and keep you safe, it's made with love and care, and now that it's yours, it will never run out.” He laughs to himself “Christ that's cheesy. Cant believe kids love this crap.” He closes the box and tightens the bow.
With the box in his hands, he takes it over to her room, and hides it under her pillow.
The door opens and his parents greet him just as he finishes placing the plates and cups. “Well done Mace, she’s gonna love it.” Henry places the cake in the middle of the dining room table, after unboxing it.
“Anne, have you seen the camera?”
“I think it's in the living room.” she says, placing nine candles atop the cake.
And now, after all the preparations, a few guests started to arrive. Some of Mason’s friends, the boys from Henry's site, and a few of Anne’s.
The knob on the front door turns, and Eliza is startled by the sudden shouting and cheering of a collective “Happy Birthday!” her eyes widened in pure joy at the sight of everyone, the decor, and the cake.
Behind her are a handful of her friends and their parents, the kids run in and the party goes on for about an hour or two.
Just long enough for Reggie and a few others to make their way over.
Eliza sits at the throne of the dinner table “come on! Make a wish!” Eliza thinks on it for a moment.
“I wish every day would be just as exciting as this!”
And at that very moment, just as she was blowing her candles, Reggie leapt through the kitchen window.
Reggie tore out Henry’s neck and leapt across to Anne, she fell back and her belly was sliced open. Mason picked up Eliza before grabbing the car keys off the counter and hurrying into the car. As much as he worried about his parents, he couldn't let any harm fall on his sister. They were dead, and he knew they wouldn't come back.
At least until, their mother stood at the front door, with her belly torn open, with Jr missing.
“Eliza, close your eyes…”
“Mama…?”
“Close your eyes!”
Anne starts moving closer to the car, and Mason backs up immediately, out through the gate, closing behind them as they narrowly escape the rotting claws of their undead mother. Upon seeing them drive off, a tear leaves her eye. And an insatiable hunger ravages her dying brain as she’s compelled to turn back and walk inside her home. She stands in front of her husband for a moment, waiting for him to turn. But he doesn't. And so, she starts tearing the flesh from his body.
She feels disgusted, but she can't stop. She feels pain but she moves regardless. She feels despair, her husband's lifeless eyes won't look at her. “Please… Henry…” a human soul trapped in a rotting shell of her former self. A monster unrecognizable. “Look at me…” she sobs, even if she can't express it. “Oh God… please… keep them safe…” the wooden cross hanging on their wall shakes before falling off onto the floor. A fleet of tanks appears just outside the gates, and every fired round shakes the undead world. But it's far from enough. “Hen…rerr…eughrr..rahh”.
-
“It's been 4 years since we’ve started traveling. The world’s changed so much. It's unrecognizable. I've seen my sister grow into her tweens, and she always manages to keep a smile on her face. And mine too. Being a nomad is hell. Everywhere we try to settle gets attacked by zombies, dangerous fanatics, or just desperate people trying to steal our shit. Nowhere is safe. Knowing that, I started writing a series of journals, retelling the events of our travels, in case I'm no longer around to protect you. And don't worry, I'm sure you'll meet good friends who’ll help you survive.” - Mason
“Tips by Mason: Eliza’s Survival Guidebook, huh?” a man in a jagged crown of scrap and rust stands atop the rotting corpse of a young man. “Damn shame the shamblers got to you. You would have made a fine addition to my warparty.”
“Mike! We found a survivor, she’s a feisty little shit.” a tall man holds a 13 year old Eliza by the arm. She's struggling, trying to loosen his grip.
Eliza looks at the King, and down at her brother’s corpse laying in front of him. Her face drops, as the light in her eyes fade. “m…Mason…?” her lips quiver trying to call out to him. Her brows stiffen in disbelief when he doesn't respond to her voice. A stream of tears starts to fall down her face as she realizes It happened again. And Now, she’s all alone. Upon seeing the men who captured her, the man standing in front of her brother’s corpse holding his journal in one hand, and a bloodied sledgehammer in another, she gives up. She goes limp. She just wanted them to get it over with.
“We found her hiding under a bed in one of the tents. What do we do with her?”
Mike looks down at her for a moment. To the book, then the young man on the floor. “Chain her up. Can't let another one go to waste.” and now, a new fear washes over her.