Page 7 of Creepy (The Zombiepidemic #1)

I didn’t have the heart to tell him I didn’t think anyone was coming back here.

If anyone much over thirty-five caught the virus, they were doomed.

Their best chance was to ride it out in one of the cities that had kept the illness at bay.

For anyone other than a survivor, someone who caught the virus and lived, coming back here would be the end of them.

Because after all, not even all the zombies were dead and buried.

I was no scientist, but I knew the virus probably lurked in them.

Thinking of zombies, I asked. “Did you find anything?” I motioned toward the house, so he’d get my meaning.

“Yeah...” he began.

“Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry.”

“No, I didn’t find them dead or worse. I found evidence of suitcases packed. Valuables gone. Hey, you don’t know anything about that do you?”

“I don’t go in the houses.”

“What about your friends?”

I’d told him I wasn’t alone. “Yesterday was the first time we’d been here,” I lied about the “we” part.

“So, you think my parents got out?”

“Everyone in town evacuated Creepy. Mostly. Everyone still living, that is.”

“You’re lucky they evacuated the city. People were turning in Florida, and they locked us in.”

“The government didn’t know it, but here people were turning way before evacuation.”

“And they let y’all leave, anyway?”

“Yeah, Louisiana was probably as bad as Georgia and Florida, but we saw what happened to y’all and kept it quiet,” I told him, meaning the powers that be simply lied about how bad the infection rate was in this state.

And it wasn’t only those in charge, the citizens of this state wouldn’t admit there was a problem.

A family member would turn zombie, and we’d kill them ourselves, bury them in the backyard, and put on a smile like nothing was wrong.

We certainly knew how to save face around here.

“Why did you and your friends stay behind?” He asked.

“For me... when the buses arrived, my dad had just started showing symptoms. There was no way he’d pass the screening, no way I could risk taking him and someone finding out how bad it actually was in Creepy. Risk the buses leaving without the entire town.”

He looked perplexed. “You do realize y’all probably let the virus into the quarantine zones.”

“What were we supposed to do, let them close our borders? If we didn’t lie, people like your parents wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“But maybe that’s why we’ve had no communication from the government. Y’all letting sick people out of the state probably killed everyone.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. Did you hear anything after they locked you in Florida?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s not our fault then. Louisiana had lots of contact with the government after Florida shut down.”

“It’s been a while now and still nothing.”

“The reason there’s been nothing since evacuation is because they just think we’re all dead or don’t care if we’re alive.”

“I suppose you’re right. Hey, I don’t want to argue. I’m only glad to see a friendly face... Hey, I’m sorry about your dad.”

Him being the first person to ever offer condolences, I about choked up at his words. Dillon hadn’t even had enough humanity left when he found out. Forgetting the topic, I asked, “Did you see many folks coming up this way?”

“Not anyone I’d consider friendly. Everyone’s so concerned about survival and protecting themselves.”

His words made me think about how I’d been sitting in the car wasting gas. “Look, I’ve got to get going. Sorry about taking your keys. Just trying to survive.”

“It’s okay. The Camaro isn’t mine, just something I picked up a few miles back. I had a much nicer ride...”

I cut him off before he could brag. I’m sure an NBA star had a much nicer everything.

His gigantic hands were still on the car.

Sure, we’d had a friendly conversation so far, but I wasn’t sure how I’d get out of it.

Any other time, I’d be intrigued. I did not survive this long by trusting anyone but myself.

“Sorry, I’m late for a meeting.” I was bluffing.

“Oh, okay.” He stepped back on instinct, his manners showing.

I took the opportunity to put the car in drive.

“You think your friends would want to meet?”

“I don’t know.” What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t pull some friends out of thin air.

He went on, “Kinda quiet here. I’m thinking of staying a while. Or maybe I can go with.”

“I’ll talk to them about it.”

“You do that because I’m tired of running. If y’all out here surviving, I could be of some help. I want to join your... group.”

“Oh, really?” I laughed.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve met a soul who hasn’t tried to kill me right off. You’re the first one.”

Horrible, I thought and took my hand off my gun.

“Plus, you’re beautiful. I want to go wherever you go.”

“Funny.” I shook my head.

“Seriously, there’s no time for holding back anymore. The world has ended. Beautiful lady, smart enough to try to steal my ride, damn, baby.”

“I seriously have to go,” I told him, with the biggest smile on my face.

“Okay. We’ll talk later. Where can I find y’all?” He asked.

Suddenly, I thought about my stalker. Couldn’t be him, could it? Troy was at this house the day after I’d been here. I’d only run into him while breaking my routine. Thinking of Dillon’s crew, I quickly made up some bullshit. “We have rules. I can’t bring someone unannounced. Safety and all.”

“Hey, if you like the Camaro, you can take it.” He held out the keys, tempting me. “Really.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, but I couldn’t.” I didn’t know how I could politely get out of this precarious situation. I didn’t know this guy at all. Troy, hot as he was, as nice as he seemed, was humongous. And I was a woman all alone with no friends in actuality.

“I’ve got some oranges inside, wait.” He tried to keep me there.

“See you around,” I said before I sped off.

I drove in circles around town in case he followed me.

I picked up the radio more than once, thinking of telling Dillon about the encounter, but decided against it.

Troy had caused no trouble for me, yet. Calling Dillon, I’d be protected.

He’d told me more than once, he could be here in thirty minutes if need be.

However, the call would bring a world of trouble not only for Troy, who could be the nicest guy on the planet for all I knew, but for me as well.

Dillon would throw me over his shoulder like a caveman, dragging me kicking and screaming into his new life.

There’d be nothing Troy, a big, strong, handsome NBA star or not could do about it.

Maybe against Dillon personally, but not against the Stayers.

Did I just think handsome? I parked thinking about our interaction.

Troy had been lovely, and he wasn’t threatening me, yet.

A bonus since the only man I’d seen in months threatened me, blackmailed me, you name it.

The first impression, Troy was hot and sweet.

My cheeks burned with an enormous smile for the first time in forever.

But I needed to be certain he wasn’t a threat.

I’d give him a week and see what happened.

Next week, I’d go talk to him again. I’d lived in Creepy my entire life with 564 other people.

I think I could handle sharing it with one or two more.

I would not let a new person in town cramp my style.

I went about my day, as usual, not counting the fact I was in the Buick and not the truck.

After cleaning out a few driveways and sheds on the opposite side of town, I was eating some fried shrimp over instant cheese grits made from a packet at Mrs. Dean’s in no time.

I checked my watch, almost on schedule. I’d missed my grocery store run, but one day wouldn’t hurt.

Slowly, I’d been stockpiling all I could in a secure location.

Somewhere Dillon couldn’t find it. The day would come that I’d have to leave my home, and I’d been preparing.

Back home I continued my routine, the one Dillon interrupted yesterday.

I picked tomatoes even if they were green because the bugs got them as soon as they ripened.

I took my canned goods and paper products, dried herbs and fruit, anything I’d found that would be of use in the future, all I could carry over to my neighbor’s house.

About a half-mile down the road, at the end of my lane sat a huge white plantation house with a finished, waterproof basement perfect for storing supplies.

Spooky and secluded, the residence sat on the list of one of Louisiana’s most haunted properties.

Before the pandemic, the owner hosted private stays for those who could afford it.

Even better, a tall iron gate surrounded the once lavish grounds.

Having looked after the place for old man Jules a time or two, I knew the combination to the side gate.

Stepping through a clearing, I took a shortcut around to reach it.