The Curious Fate of Nelsonora (Fractured Universe Series Book 1) Read online

  I guess someone had to figure that out, but I wasn’t sure why it had to be these two strange redheads. More importantly, I wasn’t sure why they were so unsurprised by this outbreak of zombies in Raven’s Landing.

  More undead bodies and terrified people rounded the corner at the far end of the block and Edmund looked at me urgently. “I want you to come with us. I can keep you safe, but I have to get this back to our property, so I can figure out what kills them for good.” He pleaded.

  “I don’t know you.” I responded. He looked irritated. My mind was racing, and I was watching a body attack people in the crowd. I vaguely recalled a story about zombies eating brains and shuddered. I reminded myself that the story was mere fiction, and this was becoming more of a total nightmare.

  “There isn’t time to explain, but we care about you.” Diana interrupted. Edmund shot her a sharp glare, and she stopped talking. How could they care about a total stranger? I only cared about one person. With a renewed sense of clarity, I felt one concern make its way to the forefront of my mind. I needed to find Westly.

  CHAPTER 6

  It took me nearly an hour to make it eight blocks through town. I lied to four different guards who wanted me to get home and get indoors immediately. I headed in the opposite direction from my registered address above Connie’s shop, but I needed to find Westly. The guards were too busy with the crowds and chaos to radio into headquarters and verify my information like they typically would. I went to Westly’s house first.

  I had always loved his house. It always looked freshly painted and crisp white aside from the yellow shutters and planter boxes his mother insisted on. She passed away when Westly was nine years old, and his father kept them in excellent repair to honor her. I barely noticed them today as I rushed onto the porch and pounded on the door. Sheriff Roberts opened the door in uniform with a shotgun in hand. He took longer than I would have liked to lower the gun when he realized it was just me.

  “Is Westly here?” I demanded, out of breath.

  “Not yet. I was about to go looking.” He replied. I could hear the worry in his voice. He looked just like Westly with an extra forty pounds of muscle and greying hair. He took great pride in being the second black sheriff elected in Raven’s Landing. His father was the first.

  “It’s bad out here, Sheriff. You should be out there already. I’m headed to the school next, can you check the church? He mentioned the meeting earlier.” I shared.

  “I don’t need you to tell me how to care for my son, Nora.” He scowled.

  “Really? I could’ve sworn I’ve been a big help lately.” I called behind me as I grabbed a baseball bat from the porch and took off in the school's direction.

  There were distant screams in every direction, but the streets had calmed down significantly. As I passed the first corner, I realized it was because they had now armed the guards with riot gear. I cut through a few yards to avoid being seen before I could reach the school. Luckily, the sheriff and his wife factored in proximity to the local schools when they purchased their family home. I didn’t have to go far at all.

  The three double door entrances to the school were each locked up with heavy chains. I circled the entire building twice calling out for Westly. As I was about to give up, I noticed the faint glow of a light on inside. I pulled myself up to see inside a tall classroom window and realized that the light was not coming from the classroom, but from the adjacent room across the hall. The library.

  I dragged a trash can over to the window and flipped it upside down, ignoring the mess of trash and discarded food that I created. My fingers tightened around the baseball bat and I glanced around quickly before breaking the window and making sure not to leave any jagged edges to climb around. Once I was inside and free of glass shards, I rushed to the library and found the door unlocked. Inside, Westly was sitting at a study table reading. Someone else may have thought he seemed perfectly fine, but I saw his knees bouncing beneath the table and the way his knuckles paled from his death grip on the book he was reading.

  “Westly, it’s just me.” I called out softly. He didn’t look up, but he inhaled heavily, and I knew he heard me.

  “They forgot this one.” He said, closing the book gently. I looked closely and saw that it was a book about medieval weaponry. I resisted the urge to remind him he no longer had to write that report for school.

  “There’s some horrible stuff happening, that wasn’t part of anyone’s plan,” I started, “and we need to get you back to the house where your dad can keep you safe.”

  “That man is scarier than a bunch of aggressive injured people.” Westly contended.

  “I agree, usually, but these aggressive people are corpses and I’ve seen them. They won’t die.” I insisted.

  “If they won’t die, they aren’t corpses.” He laughed.

  “We’ve discussed semantics before. I need you to come with me, Westly. Please.” I begged.

  I could hear mild hysteria creeping into my voice, and I hoped I wasn’t about to die warding off a flock of zombie creatures to protect Westly. I would if I had to though. He went to the log clipboard and properly checked out the library book before agreeing to leave.

  I was screaming on the inside, but I knew going through the motions of something he usually did would help him face whatever was coming next for the residents of Raven’s Landing. “Before we go out there, I just want you to remember you don’t have to babysit me. I’m bigger and stronger than you. I was just waiting out the noise.” Westly insisted.

  “This has nothing to do with your spectrum hyper-senses, Wes.” I swore. “This has to do with you being my family and the fricken zombie apocalypse happening right outside my shop… and yeah maybe I worried that you would get overwhelmed and need my help.”

  “You were projecting again. I bet you freaked out.” He teased as he climbed out of the window first and helped me down. He was careful not to touch my hands.

  “I almost fainted.” I admitted quietly.

  “I get nervous and overstimulated,” he acknowledged, “but in this kind of situation everyone does.” He always made the best points. I knew better than to assume his differences were limitations, but I was fiercely protective of him on an average day. This day was sending me to extremes.

  As we got to the sidewalk, a guard car came rushing around the corner at the opposite end of the street. We were waiting for it to clear the road entirely to cross. Westly scrunched his face in discomfort as the siren approached and a man on the opposite side of the street stepped into the road when the guard car was less than ten feet away moving quickly. I gasped loudly and Westly gripped my arm hard enough to leave a bruise. Thankfully, my long sleeves prevented any skin contact. He pulled me in the opposite direction without loosening his grip, but not before I saw the now mangled body of the pedestrian stand up and attack the guard as he exited the vehicle in shock. I heard three gunshots after that. Westly was taking forcefully deep breaths, and he pulled the noise cancelling headphones back out of his backpack while watching me sternly.

  “Don’t move,” he said looking behind me. I felt my skin crawl as I realized what must be behind me, as he reached for the bat. I watched a childhood of baseball seasons go to good use as Westly knocked one of the zombie creatures back with masterful precision. It was the first female one I saw up close. She was a frequent client at Connie’s shop. She was always full of husband drama, and I only had to speak to her once. I told her she was destined to drown.

  Westly turned towards me and handed me the bat. He looked exhausted, and I wanted nothing more than to get him home safe and return to the shop. The town meeting seemed like a good way to end up trampled to death if anything went wrong. I doubted anyone would go after this, and I wanted to be near a radio in case they released any useful information. As we began to walk on our alternate route back to the Roberts residence, I heard a scraping noise behind us and turned just in time to see the semi-dead woman lunge for Westly. I held the bat in fron
t of me and got between them. She tried gnawing her way through the bat so violently that her lower jaw and face were tearing.

  Westly positioned himself behind me and his added strength helped me pin her against the chain-link fence that surrounded the entire school grounds. She made a sickening gargling sound as the blood filled her throat, and after a moment she stopped thrashing at us and went limp. I pulled the bat away and made a strange moaning sound in disgust. She was dead now. Truly dead. Her body went pale almost immediately. I had been right about one thing at least. She did drown.

  CHAPTER 7

  Thankfully, the rest of our short journey to Westly’s house was uneventful. Sheriff Roberts was so stressed that he was pacing his front yard with a shotgun in hand as he aggressively puffed the life out of a cigarette. There was a mess on the walkway that suggested it wasn’t his first one. “Your dad smokes?” I whispered in disbelief. Somehow that was still unbelievable even on a day like this.

  “Not usually. He quit after the night my mom died. I remember the nasty smell.” He answered at a normal volume. The sheriff glared at me and stomped his cigarette into the front lawn.

  “Where the hell have you two been?” He growled.

  “We got attacked.” Westly snapped. The sheriff’s demeanor softened instantly into one of concern. He swooped us both into the house quickly and locked the door. Inside the house there was a massive pile of wood planks that hadn’t been there before and several large storage bins.

  “You can stay here, Nora.” The sheriff offered gruffly.

  “I need to get back—” I began.

  “Then I’ll drive you.” He interrupted.

  I wasn’t sure if it was kindness or an eagerness to get rid of me. I didn’t have the smoothest history with Sheriff Roberts. He thought I was a bad influence on Westly. I thought he should fight for more consideration for his son and others in town who didn’t quite blend into the crowd. There were many people that would have received special resources before the war.

  I made sure Westly was okay before we left. The window in his bedroom had already been boarded up from the inside, and a battery-powered lantern was next to his bed. The sheriff had trained and prepared for any kind of disaster, but I knew this particular disaster was a curveball. Westly climbed into his bed and wrapped himself in a heavy blanket. I turned his radio to an unused station. He always found the static relaxing. Before I left, he took my hand, and I didn’t have time to stop him. I saw nothing. I even grabbed his hand in both of mine and tried for a moment thinking maybe with all the danger outside I should see if there was anything I could prevent. Nothing. I was so thrilled that I kissed his cheek.

  “I don’t want to date you.” Westly clarified bluntly.

  “I know, but I think we can still love each other platonically.” I laughed.

  “I do love you.” He confirmed, after a few seconds of consideration.

  ***

  The sheriff didn’t speak a word as he drove me back to the shop. I spent the whole time wondering why I didn’t see any signs of death for Edmund and now Westly. He held the door of his cruiser open for me walked me up to the door. Then he nodded to Connie, who returned the gesture with remarkable restraint. I knew she was waiting to tear into me.

  “Keep safe.” The sheriff mumbled so quietly I thought I’d imagined it. “My son adores you.”

  “I will, thanks.” I replied. “And you do the same, Sheriff.” I added.

  “It’s about time you called me Matthew.” He called back as he got back into his car. I couldn’t remember what it was like back when everyone could use private vehicles, so the car ride was a rare experience for me.

  “Jesus, I was worried about you!” I heard a voice yell behind me. It wasn’t Connie. I turned to see Edmund storming out of an aisle of books.

  “Did you wait here this entire time?” I asked in disbelief. Edmund cleared his throat and regained a little more of his usual composure before he responded.

  “I dropped some stuff off at home and then doubled back.”

  “Why?” I wondered. He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him. I had enough trouble keeping one friend alive. I didn’t need any new ones right now.

  “Will you both shut up?” Connie hollered as she turned up the volume on the little radio. Edmund seemed relieved for the change in subject as we, and every customer, closed in on the sales counter to hear the announcements. I wondered why the store was so busy that night considering the dangers of walking the streets alone, but I realized these people were all coming from the town meeting. Edmund kept positioning himself between me and literally anyone else who went within five feet of me. So many people had harmed themselves at random, that he was obviously afraid it would happen again.

  The announcement started, but I was so overwhelmed that I wasn’t making heads or tails of the words coming through the speakers. I took a deep, shaky breath and walked back outside. Zombies or not, I needed some air. I put my back against the window and leaned on my knees breathing deeply. I counted backwards from thirty and gradually felt the shakiness subside. Then I heard the shop door open. It shouldn’t have surprised me that Edmund followed.

  “I’m generally someone who trusts my intuition, and I believe you mean well, but what the hell do you want from me, Edmund?” I snapped. I looked up to see a man I’d never seen before smile awkwardly but politely. My cheeks felt like fire as I realized I’d gotten a little full of myself. I had to laugh. I laughed, and the stranger continued down the street hastily. I continued laughing until my sides ached and tears rolled down my face. People continued to leave the shop and ignore my bizarre behavior. After a while my tears of laughter became genuine tears, and I cried for a few minutes alone. Sometimes I felt like my emotions built themselves within me layer by layer until something had to give. It had never occurred all in one day before.

  The shop door opened again, and this time it truly was Edmund. I checked.

  “You seemed like you needed a minute.” He said.

  “Did you figure out how to kill them?” I questioned.

  “Not yet. I sent word to a friend who might be able to help.” He assured me.

  “You just happen to know zombie busters or something.” I mocked as if that was perfectly plausible. Edmund sighed, and I continued before he could speak. “Well, I killed one.” I bragged. He looked distant and almost angry in an instant.

  “How?” he demanded.

  “Well, she tried to gnaw her way through an aluminum baseball bat to get to my face, and luckily Westly was there to help me force-feed her the side of the bat until it nearly ripped her face in half, and she collapsed. It was disgusting, and confusing, and you really don’t want to add anymore bullshit to this day, Edmund. What do you want from me?” I was yelling, and somewhere in the middle of that rant my tone went from sarcastic to mildly insane.

  “Answer five questions for me, and I’ll explain.” He negotiated. I felt genuinely torn between playing along and slapping him. Connie opened the door.

  “I got an urgent note. You have six clients coming in at midnight. This panic has people clamoring to meet you.” She cackled. She was overjoyed. This whole disaster was good for business.

  Edmund whirled towards her in a rage.

  “Her I.D. will prove she’s eighteen tomorrow. You will never profit from her again.” He swore.

  “So, you didn’t care about her until now, huh?” Connie taunted. Edmund glared with such a ferocity I almost admired Connie’s ballsy disregard for her own safety.

  I wanted to know how he knew about my birthday, when even I’d forgotten it was tomorrow.

  “Ask quickly.” I agreed.

  “Where did you go to grade school? What is your father’s name? How long have you lived here? What do you remember about your childhood?” He paused and cleared his throat. “And—am I familiar?”

  His questions seemed like small talk on a bad first date until I considered them. I couldn’t recall the specifics of attending Ra
ven’s Landing Elementary. I knew that I went there, but I couldn’t get any memories of the experience to replay clearly in my mind. I didn’t know my parent’s names. I was adopted. I began to panic as I realized that I could only recall the past few years with Connie. Edmund was watching me intently. He knew I wouldn’t know the answers. I looked at him intensely for a moment as I realized that even though I couldn’t recall the specifics… he was no stranger to me at all.

  “You don’t have to answer, okay? That last question wasn’t fair to either of us.” He admitted.

  “What’s wrong with me?” I asked. I could hear my voice cracking. Edmund had tears in his eyes.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, but that woman inside royally screwed over your family and everyone who loved you, and I will help you remember that if it’s the last thing I do.”

  CHAPTER 8

  I believed him. Though he was weird and guarded, and he wasn’t telling me everything, I knew that what he had shared thus far was true. I suspected the information he withheld was too complicated to get into on the sidewalk in the middle of a zombie infested town. I went back into the shop and went upstairs to grab my things. I wasn’t ready to go anywhere with Edmund, but we compromised on putting me in a hotel for the time being. I didn’t need to pack. I only needed to lug my footlocker down the stairs. It hit each of the steps with a loud thud, but I wasn’t done yet. I grabbed fifteen of my favorite books and a few items around the shop that I considered mine.

  Connie was the picture of belligerence. Only the last thing she said stood out to me. “We should have killed you alongside your parents.” She shouted hoarsely. Edmund looked wild.

  I walked up and grabbed her arm. I was planning to fake a vision of her death, but to my surprise I saw it before me. I recognized the vision instantly as the nightmare I’d suffered for weeks. Except I was watching from across the smoky room this time, and Connie was lying on the floor as flames swallowed the shop. “Don’t make any enemies.” I whispered as a smile spread across my face. She looked horrified. I left it at that. She deserved every minute of paranoia my message would bring.