The Dead Collection Box Set #2: Jack Zombie Books 5-8 by Flint Maxwell

Author:Flint Maxwell [Maxwell, Flint]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Void Press
Published: 2019-06-29T22:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Nine

I’ve pictured this moment ever since I lost Darlene and Junior. Before I lost them, the idea of death was always on my mind, too—I mean, how could it not be when there’s zombies walking around to always remind you of what death is?

In the two years since I’ve pictured this sweet relief, this way to get back to my wife and son and all those who I lost before I arrived in Haven and all those I lost after, it was not like this. I would never in a million years think the person who was going to do me in would be a brainwashed member of my own family.

But that’s the way it is.

That’s the way it has to be.

I have to accept it, like I have to accept Darlene and Junior are gone, and Abby is brainwashed, and that I’ll never see my older brother again, never find out what happened to him.

To close my eyes or to not close my eyes, that is the question. Do I want to die a coward or do I want to die looking at the grinning faces of Gina and Mark?

I’m reminded of an amusement park. I don’t know why. Thought I’d have a more insightful final thought, but I can’t help myself. When I was younger, Norm took me to this place called Geauga Lake in Aurora, Ohio. It’s gone now, gone before the apocalypse happened.

In this place, there was one of those log rides. You sat in a long car that was made to look like a log floating in water. It pulled you up a steep hill, took you around a jerky bend—at this point, you’d feel how cold the water was, and no matter how hot the temperature had been, you’d almost always regret getting on this damn thing—then you’re looking down a huge drop that ends in a pool of the same cold water at the bottom. Down you went and the nose of the log would make a huge splash as it hit. Water flew up in, what seemed like to a younger me, a tsunami wave. But the reason these grinning District soldiers remind me of that ride is because there was a bridge you could stand on just over that large pool of water the log ride ended in. There, you’d get some of the splash. The idea was you wouldn’t get as much as you would’ve had you been on the ride. I told Norm that I didn’t want to ride it. He gave me his usual, You’re a wimp, you’re too chicken, blah-blah-blah excuse, and I waited for him on the bridge with the scores of other too-chicken spectators. The splash that hit me nearly knocked me off the bridge, and it felt so nice in the hot summer weather. All while saving me a panic attack from looking down that drop from the nose of the log. So I told Norm to go on it again, I wasn’t feeling well, blah-blah-blah, just so I could feel the splash again and again and again.

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