{"id":184,"date":"2013-07-21T12:25:31","date_gmt":"2013-07-21T12:25:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/?page_id=184"},"modified":"2013-07-21T12:25:31","modified_gmt":"2013-07-21T12:25:31","slug":"chapter-25","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/story\/chapter-25\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 25"},"content":{"rendered":"

Chapter 25<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

Reaper\u2019s Sabbath\u2026 what a stupid name.\u00a0 Three guesses as to who was emo enough to come up with that one.\u00a0 I kept saying it didn\u2019t make sense. First of all, I thought the Sabbath was Sunday.\u00a0 But they told me that, traditionally, the Sabbath was the seventh day.\u00a0 So Saturday.\u00a0 Okay then \u2013 I get that.<\/i><\/p>\n

But Reaper\u2019s Sabbath?\u00a0 That\u2019s retarded.\u00a0 The Sabbath is a day of rest, right?\u00a0 Well, sure, everyone did \u201crest\u201d on that day, if you\u2019re going to use \u201crest\u201d as a P.C. term for DIE.\u00a0 But the Grim Reaper?\u00a0 He sure didn\u2019t rest.\u00a0 He had himself a heyday!\u00a0 At least for the morning.\u00a0 Maybe he rested in the afternoon, after everyone was dead.\u00a0 Like a siesta.\u00a0 Maybe we should have called it Reaper\u2019s Siesta instead.\u00a0 Haha\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

I\u2019m not really laughing.\u00a0 I just can\u2019t force myself to really write about what happened on that day.\u00a0 Everyone I know dying?\u00a0 Nope, not going there.<\/i><\/p>\n

You know, if I survive long enough to grow up, I\u2019m gonna be one majorly screwed up adult.\u00a0 Probably even more screwy than the one who coined the name Reaper\u2019s Sabbath.<\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n

Saturday, April 14, 2012<\/b><\/b>
\n3:00 p.m.<\/b><\/b><\/p>\n

Gabby stood on her knees in the center of the couch, one hand clutching the back of it for support, the other pulling the filmy drapes aside so she could see out the bay window.\u00a0 She had been in that position, watching the street outside her house, for close to half an hour now.\u00a0 In that time, she\u2019d seen birds and bugs fly by, even a small, green anole crawling down the palm tree in the front yard, but no other movement.\u00a0 No people.\u00a0 No cars.\u00a0 No sign of her mother\u2019s white Escape.<\/p>\n

Across the street, the neighbors\u2019 house was quiet and closed up, curtains drawn, blinds shut.\u00a0 Odd, considering the electricity had been out for hours now in Tampa.\u00a0 Gabby had opened the blinds in the kitchen to allow the natural light from the sun to stream in.\u00a0 The bay window offered plenty of afternoon sunlight to brighten the living room.\u00a0 She would have guessed her neighbors had gone out, to the movies or the mall, or, if those were also without power, maybe the beach.\u00a0 But both of their cars were there, parked side by side in the driveway.\u00a0 Yet she\u2019d seen no sign of life from the house all day.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t just weird anymore.\u00a0 It was downright scary.<\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t been too concerned when she\u2019d re-awoken mid-morning and found her alarm clock dark and numberless.\u00a0 On the coast of Florida, the power was often knocked out due to storms or the heat.\u00a0 Granted, it was sunny and seventy-something, but maybe a transformer had blown, or a line had fallen, or\u2026 something.<\/p>\n

Her ideas of what that \u201csomething\u201d could be had grown steadily more sinister as the day had progressed, dimly and quietly.<\/p>\n

At first, she had wondered why no one had bothered to call and wish her a happy birthday.\u00a0 Sure, her friends were supposed to be coming over for her party that night, but she\u2019d still been hoping for at least a text from Makayla.\u00a0 Or Colton\u2026\u00a0 Wishful thinking, maybe.\u00a0 He probably didn\u2019t even know it was her birthday.\u00a0 A kiss didn\u2019t mean they were suddenly boyfriend and girlfriend.<\/p>\n

But phone service was out, too.\u00a0 She\u2019d discovered that tidbit when she had tried to call her mother around noon.\u00a0 Her phone still had power left, though it wouldn\u2019t for long with her charger dead, but she hadn\u2019t been able to get a signal or a connection.\u00a0 The land lines were down, as well.\u00a0 What had happened to take out the power and the phones on a clear, sunny day like this one?<\/p>\n

She thought about the news report she\u2019d seen yesterday, about the strange planes, about the threat of terrorism.\u00a0 She thought of the apparent emergency that had called her mother into work on her birthday.\u00a0 Had something happened?\u00a0 What was going on?<\/p>\n

Gabby was afraid to leave her house, but staying cooped up there, watching out the window for her mother to come home and worrying when she didn\u2019t, was going to make her crazy.\u00a0 Already, her heart was racing with barely-controlled panic, and she felt clammy, almost shaky, the way she felt before she had to give a speech in English class, only worse.\u00a0 The more she thought about it, the worse it got.\u00a0 Her mind was getting carried away, and the rest of her couldn\u2019t stand it.\u00a0 She had to give herself something to do, something to keep her mind from thinking anymore.<\/p>\n

Maybe she could ride her bike to the gas station at the edge of her neighborhood.\u00a0 She could ask the attendant there what was going on, and there was a pay phone she could try calling the hospital on, if it worked.\u00a0 And if it didn\u2019t, well, at least she might kill enough time for her mom to be home by the time she got back.<\/p>\n

Her mind made up, she scrambled off the couch and ran to her bedroom.\u00a0 She put on shoes and stuffed the pockets of her shorts \u2013 in one went her house key and wallet, which contained about ten bucks of babysitting money; in the other, her cell phone, just in case she picked up a signal away from home.\u00a0 Then she locked up the house and went out into the garage to get her bike.\u00a0 The ten-speed, painted a glossy, electric blue with hot pink accents, had been the highlight of her tenth birthday.\u00a0 She wondered if there would be any big gifts for her this year.\u00a0 She hadn\u2019t asked for anything special.<\/p>\n

She walked her bike out the back door and rode it over the grass to get to the sidewalk out front.\u00a0 Usually, she had to dodge joggers and little kids in strollers when she rode on the sidewalk, but today, the pavement was empty.\u00a0 The faint clicking of her bike chains as she pedaled seemed unusually noticeable, and Gabby realized it was because the rest of the world seemed unusually quiet.\u00a0 Bird chirped, insects buzzed, and trees rustled in the breeze, but there were no other human sounds.\u00a0 No lawnmowers roaring across the yards.\u00a0 No skateboards rumbling over the pavement.\u00a0 No children laughing as they played.<\/p>\n

Gabby slowed to a stop and stuck out her toes to ground herself.\u00a0 She looked around, struck with the ominous realization that there was no one in sight.\u00a0 No one outside on this beautiful, spring afternoon.\u00a0 Absolutely no one, anywhere.<\/p>\n

A part of her wanted to turn around and go back to hiding out in her house.\u00a0 She was frightened.\u00a0 But she convinced herself to keep going.\u00a0 She had to find out what was going on.\u00a0 Knowing couldn\u2019t be worse than not knowing, could it?<\/p>\n

She began to pedal again, hard this time.\u00a0 She rose up off the seat and pedaled standing up to gain some momentum.\u00a0 Her bike whizzed down the sidewalk, bounced over a curb, and crossed the street without stopping for Gabby to look both ways.\u00a0 What was the point?\u00a0 The only cars on the streets were parked and unoccupied.\u00a0 No one was out driving, either.<\/p>\n

She reached the gas station without encountering a single moving vehicle, let alone a moving person.\u00a0 There was only one car parked at the station, in a faraway parking space that told her it was probably the attendant.\u00a0 Well, at least someone<\/i> was inside.\u00a0 She pulled her bicycle up to the door and leaned it against the building, not bothering to release the kickstand or lock it up.\u00a0 There was no one around to steal it, and besides, she hadn\u2019t thought to bring her bike lock.<\/p>\n

A bell jingled overhead as Gabby pulled open the glass door and stepped inside.\u00a0 The station was dim, with only the natural sunlight streaming through the front wall of windows to brighten it.\u00a0 The large, fluorescent lights hanging overhead were dark.\u00a0 The air was warm and stale without the air conditioning blasting.\u00a0 It seemed the power outage had affected the entire neighborhood, at the very least.<\/p>\n

Gabby looked around.\u00a0 There seemed to be no one in the station.\u00a0 Nobody browsing the snack aisles, or raiding the large drink coolers in the back.\u00a0 Even the counter was unmanned, with no attendant standing behind it.\u00a0 But there was a car parked outside.\u00a0 Surely, someone had<\/i> to be here.\u00a0 Someone had to have opened up the station that morning, hadn\u2019t they?\u00a0 They would have locked up if they were leaving, wouldn\u2019t they?<\/p>\n

Desperate for reassurance, desperate for human contact, desperate for answers, Gabby tiptoed to the counter.\u00a0 The small screens on all three cash registers were dark.\u00a0 Holding her breath, she pressed her body against the edge of the counter and rose up on her toes to peer over it.\u00a0 At the sight of a pair of legs lying on the floor, she gasped and jerked back, stumbling a few feet away from the counter.<\/p>\n

She released her breath slowly, shuddering, and stood still for a moment, frozen, as she contemplated what to do.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t want to look again, afraid at what she might find, at what she might see, but she knew she wouldn\u2019t just walk away without looking.\u00a0 Without checking.\u00a0 What if the legs on the floor belonged to someone who was still alive and in need of her help?\u00a0 She pictured a man, stabbed, like her father had been, lying in a puddle of his own blood.\u00a0 Maybe the gas station had been held up.\u00a0 An armed robbery, like the one that had ruined her family.\u00a0 She never wanted to see a sight like that again, but if he was still alive\u2026 if she could help save him\u2026<\/p>\n

Her feet felt like blocks of cement, but she forced them to move forward.\u00a0 Her pulse raced in her throat, and she could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as she crept nervously toward the counter again.\u00a0 Like the child she had been before she\u2019d lost her father, Gabby knelt down alongside it and peeked timidly around, prepared to squeeze her eyes shut if the scene was gory.<\/p>\n

There was no blood on the floor, and for that, she was grateful.\u00a0 It wasn\u2019t a man, either.\u00a0 It was a woman, not too old, probably early thirties, and she was lying on her back, still, very still.\u00a0 Beneath her red vest bearing the gas station\u2019s logo, the woman\u2019s chest was not rising.\u00a0 Gabby swallowed hard.\u00a0 She pulled her phone out of her pocket, flipped it open, and held it up hopefully.<\/p>\n

Zero bars.\u00a0 Still no signal.<\/p>\n

Gabby crammed the phone back into her pocket and inched closer to the motionless woman.\u00a0 She noticed the purplish sores all up and down the woman\u2019s pale arms.\u00a0 And then she caught sight of her face.\u00a0 Her face, its complexion gray, its features distorted by the sores, with chunks of congealed vomit on the chin and dried flecks of foamy spittle in the corners of the mouth.<\/p>\n

It was enough to make Gabby gag, then retch, and it was all she could do not to toss her cookies then and there, behind the counter.\u00a0 Choking, crying out, she bolted in panic for the door.\u00a0 The bell jingled behind her as she scrambled onto her bike and raced away.<\/p>\n

There was no one around to hear her crying as she pedaled across town, but Gabby desperately wished there was.\u00a0 She had to find someone, someone who knew what was going on and could help her, even if they could not help the woman.\u00a0 The woman was dead.\u00a0 If she hadn\u2019t known it before, Gabby had been sure of this when she\u2019d seen her face.\u00a0 It was a face she wanted to erase from her mind, but she couldn\u2019t.\u00a0 It kept popping up again as she rode, without any idea where she was going.<\/p>\n

Her absent-minded pedaling carried her to a different neighborhood, one almost as familiar to her as her own.\u00a0 She hardly realized it until she found herself dragging her toes on the sidewalk in front of her best friend\u2019s house.\u00a0 In the last year, the Deans had become like her second family, so Makayla\u2019s house seemed like a logical sanctuary.<\/p>\n

Gabby wedged the kickstand out on her bike and left it standing in the driveway as she hurried up to the front stoop.\u00a0 She rang the bell, and when no one answered, she tried the doorknob, knowing Makayla\u2019s parents wouldn\u2019t mind if she let herself in.\u00a0 It turned, and so she opened the front door.\u00a0 The house was unusually quiet, but even in its stillness, there was a comfort there.\u00a0 It smelled like Makayla\u2019s house, where she\u2019d slept over so many nights, a homey blend of scented candles and laundry detergent and the sawdusty smell of hamster bedding.<\/p>\n

\u201cMak?\u201d called Gabby, looking around.\u00a0 The living room was empty, the television off.\u00a0 The kitchen was also deserted, and the digital clocks on the microwave and oven were blank.\u00a0 No electricity here either.\u00a0 But were there people?\u00a0 In the kitchen, Gabby opened the back door, which connected to the garage, and peeked out.\u00a0 Both cars were there.\u00a0 So their owners had to be there too.<\/p>\n

Not finding anyone downstairs, Gabby wandered upstairs.\u00a0 She felt a little weird creeping around Makayla\u2019s house by herself, but she wanted to be caught by someone, even Makayla\u2019s brother.\u00a0 She would try Makayla\u2019s room first, though.<\/p>\n

The door was partway closed, and the smell of the hamster cage grew stronger as she pushed it open.\u00a0 There was another smell, too, a smell that brought the face of the dead gas station attendant flashing back into her mind.\u00a0 Shuddering, Gabby went into the room.\u00a0 She saw a lump in Makayla\u2019s bed and wondered what her friend was doing sleeping in the middle of the afternoon, with her covers thrown over her head.\u00a0 Maybe her mom had made her take a nap before the slumber party.<\/p>\n

\u201cMakayla,\u201d she whispered, tiptoeing closer.\u00a0 \u201cMak, you awake?\u201d<\/p>\n

She poked the lump through the covers.\u00a0 The lump did not stir.<\/p>\n

She prodded it again.\u00a0 Still no reaction.<\/p>\n

Finally, she tore the covers off Makayla, announcing, \u201cRise and shine, Makay-\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Gabby choked on her friend\u2019s name.\u00a0 She made a retching noise, like coughing and gagging at the same time, and then she began to scream.\u00a0 She screamed, and screamed, and screamed, as she looked down upon her best friend, lying dead in her bed and covered in purple sores, like the spots of her magenta, leopard-print pajamas.<\/p>\n

This time, Gabby could not hold it back.\u00a0 She doubled over and vomited, right there on Makayla\u2019s pink carpet.\u00a0 She did not think of cleaning it up, did not see the need, for in the back of her mind, she knew Makayla\u2019s mom would not mind, could not<\/i> mind, in fact, because she was dead in another room.\u00a0 They all were.\u00a0 Makayla\u2019s whole family, dead in this house.\u00a0 It was the only explanation for the house being so quiet, with both cars there.<\/p>\n

Everyone, everywhere, was dead.<\/p>\n

Gabby couldn\u2019t take any more.\u00a0 She was no longer curious.\u00a0 She could not bear to look in on the rest of the Dean family dead.\u00a0 Holding her breath, she yanked Makayla\u2019s covers back up and over her head, hiding her body once more, and then she turned and fled.\u00a0 She ran down the stairs, the first of her sobs bursting from her throat, and out into the sun.\u00a0 She straddled her bike once more, kicked up the kickstand, and started pedaling, though she hadn\u2019t the faintest clue as to where she might go next.<\/p>\n

She looked dazedly up and down the street and thought of Brock, who lived somewhere nearby, and of Colton, who had kissed her on the beach two nights ago.\u00a0 Brock and Colton, who were probably both dead in their own houses, whichever ones they were.\u00a0 Gabby did not want to find them.<\/p>\n

The only place she could think to go, besides home, was the hospital, where her mother worked.\u00a0 It was her last hope; she had to find her mother.\u00a0 The hospital was several miles across town, further than Gabby had ever ridden or was allowed to ride, but she started to pedal feverishly, intent on getting there.\u00a0 She flew over curbs and straight through intersections without even looking for cars, throwing caution to the wind, because she knew there would be none.\u00a0 And she was right.<\/p>\n

She was right, until she was startled by the sudden sound of screeching brakes, so startled that she toppled right off her bike and spilled onto the street, a mere few feet in front of the white Ford Escape that was skidding to a stop.\u00a0 She looked up in shock, and the driver\u2019s side door was already opening, and her mother\u2019s voice was screaming, \u201cGabrielle!!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom!\u201d Gabby cried, scrambling up, not bothering to brush the gravel from her skinned knees.\u00a0 \u201cMama!!\u201d<\/p>\n

She ran for her mother, who was running towards her.\u00a0 Their bodies collided in a fierce hug, and Gabby collapsed into the relief of her mother\u2019s arms.\u00a0 She sobbed into Jo\u2019s shoulder, as Jo squeezed her in a tight embrace, stroking her back and whispering, \u201cOh Gabby\u2026 Gabby, thank God.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone\u2019s dead, Mama,\u201d Gabby finally found the voice to choke out.\u00a0 \u201cEven\u2026 even Makayla.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, sweetie\u2026 I know.\u00a0 I\u2019m so sorry,\u201d her mother whispered, her own voice shaking.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m so thankful you\u2019re okay.\u00a0 I went home, and you weren\u2019t there\u2026 I panicked.\u00a0 I must have just missed you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t get a hold of you,\u201d Gabby sobbed.\u00a0 \u201cI tried to call, but the phones are all dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all right.\u00a0 I\u2019m here now.\u00a0 We\u2019re together; that\u2019s what matters.\u00a0 We\u2019ll go somewhere safe, somewhere where there are still people who are well.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere?\u00a0 There\u2019s no one\u2026\u201d whispered Gabby, thinking again of the empty gas station, with the woman lying so still behind the counter.<\/p>\n

Jo squeezed her shoulders.\u00a0 \u201cI have a thought,\u201d she replied, guiding Gabby back to the SUV.\u00a0 \u201cI may be wrong, but it\u2019s worth a try.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere?\u201d Gabby sniffled, as they lifted her bike into the hatchback.<\/p>\n

\u201cMacDill\u2026 the Air Force base.\u00a0 If there\u2019s anyone left alive in this city who knows what\u2019s going on, they\u2019ll be there.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

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Chapter 25 Reaper\u2019s Sabbath\u2026 what a stupid name.\u00a0 Three guesses as to who was emo enough to come up with that one.\u00a0 I kept saying it didn\u2019t make sense. First of all, I thought the Sabbath was Sunday.\u00a0 But they … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":8,"menu_order":25,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"onecolumn-page.php","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"footnotes":""},"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/184"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=184"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/184\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":185,"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/184\/revisions\/185"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/8"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/dreamers-sanctuary.com\/undead\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=184"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}