Lee - Day of the Zombie

To all the lovers of horror and all things zombie.

Enjoy.

The day of the Zombie

(Originally published by LLD press as He Iwi Tahi Tatou)

http://richardleewrites.com

Published by Triskaideka Books

Copyright 2017 Richard Lee

Cover text/design copyright 2017 Lee Pletzers

Cover art 2017 Richard Lee

All rights reserved. No copying or reselling please.

This Book (print, audio, video and eBook versions) is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This product may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

If youre reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described here are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher.

W E HEARD IT ON THE news. America as we knew it was gone. Next was Mexico. Then London and Europe. Accusations flew, theories ran rife but no one really new. Scientists captured zombies, tested thembut that's all we heard. Whether it was true or not, no one found out.

But we were safe. New Zealand and Australia, Samoa and Fiji and a scattering of other islands.

Safe. A precarious word.

Then Australia fell. How? We don't know. All contact was lost. Samoan and Fijian communications also died. We were alone. The authorities had no idea what to do. In a burst of fear and energy, we as a nation rioted. And why not? We believed we were next. And like all bursts of energy, it was short lived; but the destruction was massive. Plumes of smoke darkened the sky for days, people bled to death on the streets, bodies pillaged and beaten, children tossed against brick walls; anarchy in full swing.

Being the last 'safe' place was the worst. Every day we waited for the inevitable zombie attack or news of their arrival. That's how we lived. Day to day. Money meant nothing, skills were valued, communities grew stronger, and security groups were formed to keep our little slice of paradise in order and kept an eye on visitors; insuring they had skills to share.

Everything was kept in order.

Peace reigned.

He iwi tahi tatou. We are now one people.

* * *

T HE FUCKERS HAD TO arrive sooner or later. They arrived in Aotearoa on a day of celebrations: Waitangi Day.

A long time had passed since we lost contact with the rest of the world. An exact time was unknown but the silence was believed to have started between five and seven years ago.

Waitangi day was a rude awakening. We had grown soft and complacent. We had hoped it was all over. Whatever started the zombie breakout had faded or died. New Zealand was safe. We were thankful of that.

When word arrived that Waitangi Day talks were to be restarted there was a change in the community. A good change. The hope of some normality was its way into power. We were happy and anxious at the same time. There was a strong desire that government would not return; at least not the government we remembered. Government was powerless against a real threat and lost all power when the silence started.

We had made do. All communities had their own set of rules and guidelines that benefited the region and the people, the last thing we all wanted was the return of old school policies. On our own we learnt how to restore electricity and build and install wind and sun generators. We had communication with other communities through analogue telephone lines.

There was a feeling within most communities that a return to old world comforts wasn't needed or wanted. People were closer, neighbour knew neighbour. Six degrees of separation had become one.

* * *

T HE DOOR OPENED, A wave of light rushed into the room. Gary covered his eyes from the stinging brightness.

"Oh my God, Gary. I'm sorry. I forgot."

Rubbing the pain away, he gingerly took his hands away. The room was once again filled with a soft dull light. Thick, heavy curtains covered the windows. "It's okay, Susan."

"Are you angry?"

Gary turned to her slender form. "No," he said, and she stepped forward. His hand reached out and stroked her hair. The rattling chains annoyed him. His hand cupped her neck and he pulled her close. Their lips brushed and Susan pulled away from him.

He saw the tears in her eyes and knew he would soon have to break his contact with her. Susan had to live her own life free of the burden he had become. After twenty years of marriage, he did not doubt the love was still there and still strong but she needed something he could no longer give hercompanionship.

They would come for him sooner or later, he was sure of it. Fear was a powerful emotion and hard to contain.

"How is the documenting going?"

"Slower than I thought." Gary looked at the screen. "My memory is not as good as it once was. Everything is still locked in here," he tapped his head, "the problem is getting it in order."

"I have every confidence in you. The council choose the right man to document the events."

Gary smiled. "I doubt that."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"I'll bring you in something." She exited from the door, not fully closing it.

Outside he can hear children yell out. They are practicing, he realises and finds it sad that children don't 'play' as they once had, when he was a child.

Struggling with the chains, he made his way to the window. Keeping the curtains shut, he peered through a crack. The light is blinding, but he can manage the pain for a few momentslike looking directly at the sun.

The kids think they are playing a game with the kicks, punches and the pointed stick, but they were, in reality, in training. They laughed and teased one another, but it is all in good fun. In a few more years, these kids will be carrying side-arms and will be experienced in handling and using these weapons. Society has changed. The kids laughter brings him out of his thoughts. Society had changed. Yes, he liked that sentence and will find a way to weave it into his documenting of the Waitangi Day attack.

Susan nudged the door open with her foot. Gary turned from the window; the smell of the raw meat overpowering. The tangy aroma wafted to his nostrils and he inhaled deeply. He felt the change break through his humanity.