Day 330 - Untitled Zombie Story Chapter 3 - (1,059 words)

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UNTITLED ZOMBIE STORY

By Wayne Webb

Chapter 3

Ben Johnson was sick of hearing his mother’s voice. It grated on him at times but she was still his mother, he could not live with her and yet could not live without her.

Unless it was natural causes of course, that would be different, beyond control and unendingly sad of course. Maybe not unending, maybe just a long time. He didn’t really entertain the idea of her death; he was just open to the concept of her not being around and being safe at the same time. If she were elsewhere then he could not guarantee her safety and she could fall prey to the virus, to the Zombie outbreak or whatever it was that animated the dead into the ravenous, mindless creatures that existed for violence unless they heard what they wanted to hear.

“Is that really any different than her now?” Ben wondered out loud with a small chuckle.

“What’s that dear?” His mother asked, appearing spectre like from the thin air.

“Nothing, just talking to myself.” He grinned.

“You shouldn’t do that you know, you shouldn’t talk to yourself it undermines your ability to lead.” She was tut-tutting him while saying tat, a verbal trick, which required some skill, Ben was sure.

“Really? That undermines my ability to lead does it? That is what does that?” the sarcasm was thick but completely ignored or missed.

“Yes dear it does, you really should pay more attention. You’ll be stuck on the road doing this leg work thing for a long time unless you can show real leadership!”

Ben looked at his mother in the passenger seat of the solar powered car they were cruising down the road in, a few car lengths ahead of the rest of their crew in a minivan, loaded with the equipment and a portable power generator if needed.

“There is no corporate ladder Mom, it’s just what it is. People do what they are good at, I’m good at this. I don’t threaten anyone, I get on and just recruit or help people get their balance, without any grief. I’m good at this.”

“You should be in charge.”

“Says my mother, there’s leadership for you.”

Ben’s mother turned to the window and looked out of it, sniffing slightly. She knew there was a rebuke in there, light and heavily guarded, but in there nonetheless.

They sat and drove on in silence until her opinions could not be contained any longer.

“You should not have left those boys on their own in that town. It’s not safe, and they should have come with us.”

Ben sighed and did not reply.

“You should have made them, that’s what a leader does.”

There was no avoiding the conversation. “No, that’s what a dictator does.”

“Dictator? Don’t be so melodramatic dear. A good parent TELLS her children what to do, that’s what a good father and a Man does. Don’t you want to be a man Ben?” She really meant it well, but it came across insulting regardless.

“A man? Really? That’s where you’re going with this?” Ben shook his head and then closed his mouth tight. Considering the example in his own family of what it was that a ‘man’ did in this world, it was a bit rich.

“What’s that?” Margaret was leaning forward and looking ahead in the road, though Ben had seen the obstacle coming from some distance. “You really should pay more attention to the road and where you are heading.”

Ben tightened his grip on the wheel as the car slowed down and then he picked up the radio and signaled the group following along.

“Alpha to Beta, there’s an obstruction ahead, over.” He let go the call button and waited on the call back.

“Beta to Alpha, we’ll check it, you have our back over?”

“Roger, roger.”

Margaret was smiling.

“What?” Ben asked exasperatedly.

“You forgot to identify yourself.”

“And that makes you happy in some way does it Mom? Jesus why did I think it was a good idea to bring you on this trip?”

Mother Johnson looked at her son, the pride and care was there, she just did not know how to deliver the love without the barbed wire coating.

The Minivan shot past them and drove to the obstruction, some miles away, allowing the mother and son to get closer and park up before stopping fully and within sniper range as Ben got out of the car and set up his scope, aiming down the barrel and the barricade, this not being a natural looking obstruction.

He could see that there were a few people waving their arms and though he could not hear the shouting he could see the animated motions and expressive conversation his team were having.

They were well armed and they knew how to defend themselves. They could see well enough that there was no nearby places for a sniper to take pot shots at them unless they were in the same spot that Ben was now occupying with his mother Margaret watching his back. She knew so little about being supportive and helpful, but Ben trusted her to watch his back and stop any threat from getting to him at the price of her own life if necessary.

The barricade moved apart like a gateway opening up and then Ben could see the threat that the would be road pirates had set on the advance unit. A wave of maybe twenty or more zombies piled out of the gap towards the people who had been shouting and yelling at each other. Attracted by the clamor of their voices, they shuffled forward emaciated and broken, but needing and wanting what they always want. To eat, kill and destroy whatever is in their way, and no necessarily in that order.

He almost laughed it was so silly and unthreatening to the them, with their experience. It would have been funny if it weren’t a serious attempt to rob, threaten or kidnap them.

Ben remote activated the Zombie Sticks, and the mood was visibly changed un that moment, the stretching arms and slathering jaws all went slack and then the undead casually shuffled about his advance group and made a beeline for the mini van behind them.

Ben watched through the rifle scope, trying to figure which of them was the leader.