Chapter 6
Chapter Six
T he afternoon kicks off with zombie apocalypse training. I have no idea what this entails, but I’m curious to find out. I haven’t seen The Walking Dead , Zombieland or any of the other undead-related entertainment they mentioned, so I’m starting at a disadvantage.
“Bradley, Hunter, and Fiona have volunteered to be the zombies,” Courtney announces.
“Are we sure about this? Hunter sometimes takes his role a little too seriously,” Gloria says under her breath.
Hunter is the heavyset guy dressed from head to toe in camouflage and a jaw that sharks would envy. I make a mental note to avoid him. If his bite breaks the flesh, there isn’t a hospital nearby for treatment.
“It’s fine,” Bradley says. “This is basically tag with zombies.”
“It’s much more involved than tag,” Hunter interjects. “It’s the apocalypse. You need to think like a prepper and a military operative.”
“I can do neither of those.” I do, however, have experience as a winner. I hope that’s enough to sustain me during these imminent dark times. “Is there a time-out signal?”
Hunter pins me with a pitying look. “This is the apocalypse, my friend. The only time out is permanent.”
Got it. No breaks for the weary. “I’ll soldier on then.”
“No firearms, Hunter,” Courtney says. “You know the rules.”
Hunter kicks the dirt in protest. “What if I roleplay a human instead?”
“Still no.”
Firearms aside, I’m concerned that he would refer to his status as a human as roleplaying.
Courtney hands out three walkie talkies. “These are your only form of communication. No phones.”
Gloria snags the first one. Olivia and Adam swipe the other two.
“You need to survive until you hear the whistle blow a second time. If you’re alive by then, congratulations, you’re a winner.”
Hunter points at his eyes with two fingers and then at me.
“Stick with me,” Olivia advises with a solemn gaze.
There’s no need to convince me. I’d bet good money on this kid’s survival.
“You get a five-minute lead,” Courtney says, followed by an ear-splitting whistle that signals the start of the game.
People scatter in multiple directions. Everybody seems to have a plan of action except me. Olivia grabs my arm and tugs me in her direction. Ben is shockingly spry for an older guy. He makes it to a small bridge that spans the width of a creek.
“Can the zombies swim?” I ask.
“Good question.” Ben rubs his beard.
Olivia presses the button on the walkie-talkie. “This is Olivia’s Team requesting information.”
“Go ahead, Olivia’s Team.” Gloria’s voice is interrupted by static.
“Can zombies swim?”
Adam’s voice breaks through. “Affirmative.”
That rules out an aquatic escape route.
“Zombie Hunter spotted by the cafeteria,” Adam reports in a panic.
“That’s confusing,” Ben says. “Makes him sound like someone who hunts zombies.”
“What’s your position, Team Gloria?” Olivia asks.
There’s no answer from Gloria, only static.
Olivia’s eyes widen. “Comms are down!”
“No communication is a problem,” Ben says.
Not for me. I view this as an ideal opportunity to do some sleuthing. I break away from the group. “I’ll do recon. See if I can spot any zombies in our area.”
Ben places a hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. “We should stay together. There’s safety in numbers.”
Olivia pushes her grandfather’s hand aside. “If the hero wants to sacrifice himself, who are we to stand in a hero’s way? We’ll hide near this bridge. Report back as soon as you can.”
I salute her and take off in a sprint. I spot Angela, who is seated on a rock by the lake. She’s decked out in a sunhat and oversized sunglasses.
“Aren’t you playing?” I ask.
She slides the sunglasses to the tip of her nose and peers over the top at me. “I made sure to get bitten right away. Now I can enjoy the sunshine without interruption. You?”
“I’m on a recon mission.”
She squints. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” It isn’t a lie. The recon, however, is for my client and not for the human survivors of a fake apocalypse.
Her gaze skims me from head to toe. “I won’t reveal your whereabouts if you don’t reveal mine.”
“Deal.”
She slides the sunglasses back into position and tips her face skyward to absorb those UV rays. I take that as my cue to carry on.
I disappear into the thick of the woods.
Once I’m clear out of eyesight and earshot of everyone else, I open the PDFs of the property records saved on my phone—I assumed the Internet would fail me out here—and study the images.
According to the records, I’ve almost reached the farthest point of Courtney’s land.
If there’s anything that’s been missed, any violation or issue that could be used as leverage against her, I might find it here off the beaten path.
I stop in front of what amounts to a woodland wall.
The trees have grown so close together in this section that they seem to be forming a blockade.
Is this considered a fire hazard, having trees clustered like this?
One forest fire could blaze through here in a matter of minutes.
If Courtney was forced to clear some of the trees, it would cost a small fortune—a fortune I happened to know she didn’t possess.
Uncertain, I snap a few pictures just in case, then instinctively glance over my shoulder to make sure Angela didn’t follow me.
I feel a strange sensation in my stomach as I tuck the phone into my pocket.
At first, I worry that I ate something I shouldn’t have, until I realize I’ve experienced a twinge like this before.
It isn’t indigestion; it’s guilt.
Here I am, actively working against the people who are currently actively working to protect me and the others from a zombie invasion.
It doesn’t matter that it isn’t real. If it was real, I have no doubt they would be out there, working to defend the community they’ve built, while I’m secretly working to destroy it.
I feel sick.
An uncomfortable realization sinks into my bones.
This is about more than my fear of getting caught.
If I’m being honest with myself, the truth is I don’t want the campers to think less of me.
I like them. They’re nice people, with the possible exception of Hunter, who may, in fact, be a sociopath disguised as a nerdy firearms enthusiast.
I hear a garbled growl behind me and turn to see Fiona stalking toward me wielding a five-foot branch.
“That seems excessively large,” I tell her.
“That’s what she said.” The zombie cracks a smile, and I see she’s blackened a few of her teeth. I admire her commitment to the role.
“Zombie brains lack the capacity for humor,” I remind her.
“Right. Grrr. Argh,” she says, slipping back into character.
When she pulls back to take a swing at me, the top end catches on the branch behind her. I seize the moment to slip past her toward the campground. I’m unprepared for the adrenaline rush that comes with dodging a zombie attack, fake as it is.
My survival instincts kick in and I race toward the picnic area with Fiona hot on my heels. Up ahead, I see a group has already gathered there. The second whistle sounds as I reach a table.
“I almost had him,” Fiona says, panting. “I tracked his footprints to Endor Forest, but he had a little help from the trees.”
Adam whips toward me. “You were all the way out by Endor Forest?”
“That’s against the rules,” Bradley adds.
Gloria rushes to my defense. “It isn’t his fault. Nobody explained the boundaries before we started.” She turns to me. “We don’t go as far as Endor Forest. If somebody were to get lost trying to hide in there, it would be almost impossible to find them.”
“Noted,” I say. And not at all surprised. At least they took sensible precautions. “Why are you all here?”
“Hunter got us,” Olivia complains, casting a steely eye at the camo zombie. “Are you the only one who didn’t get bitten?”
I survey the group. “I guess so.”
“Charlie’s the winner!” Bradley crows, yanking my arm skyward in triumph. I feel uneasy accepting any accolades, knowing the real reason I managed to successfully dodge the zombies.
Olivia looks at me, eyes shining. “What does he win?”
“He gets to be first in line in the cafeteria for the next three meals,” Gloria announces.
“Lucky,” Adam says with a hint of resentment.
I don’t feel lucky though. I feel more like our undead opponents—a monster.
For the remainder of the afternoon, I can’t stop thinking about Stefan’s joyful transformation and how happy everybody was to witness it. It was almost as moving as Courtney’s wistful gaze whenever she talks about the camp. I wish I had more of that in my life.
Following a Lego meetup where every participant built an iconic movie scene (there was a shark Lego, so I chose Jaws ), I agree to participate in a tabletop game.
I get so caught up in reading the rules to avoid making a mistake that I don’t realize how many hours have passed until I get a message from Jeannie requesting proof of life, and that’s when it hits me.
I haven’t checked in with the office all day.
I’ve been so immersed in camp life that I failed to check emails, voicemails, or messages.
My chest tightens and I find it difficult to breathe.
I excuse myself from the game and race back to my cabin before I have a full-blown panic attack in front of a group of trolls and elves and whatever else they’re supposed to be.
“Charlie? Is everything all right?”
Shit. I slow my pace. “Hey, Courtney. Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“You don’t look fine. You look green, and not in a cool Hulk way.”
“I needed fresh air.”
“You’re in luck. We have that in abundance here. Still on for movie night?”
I manage a nod. “Six, right?”
“On the dot.”
“Why so early?”
“Have you seen the other campers? They’re not exactly night owls. Besides, I prefer an early night so I can get up for sunrise yoga.”
I bark a laugh. “You get up before the crack of dawn to stretch outside?”
“Don’t mock it ’til you try it. It’s a great way to start the day.”