Guest Fiction: Matt Soresina

One More Day

Matthew Soresina

            It’s been three hours since we blew Flagler Beach into an island and separated ourselves from the rest of the peninsula entirely. The well-to-does and the officials claim “it’s to stop the Zombies from infiltrating from Volusia County.” The truth is, we would have blown the bridges out too if it was for safety, not for economic reasons after the military cleans this mess up. That’s right, they still believe the military can save us, They slept through the first wave of the “undead.”

            The paramedics were first on the scene. Right outside Finn’s just before 2 a.m. What we expected  was just someone that had to many, what we got was a ride in an attracting beacon with flashing lights as we rolled into a feeding frenzy. I slowed my bus as ‘people started crowding around, pounding on the glass, head-butting the glass. Jesse was in the back screaming about driving into a riot when my window shattered. I unclamped my seatbelt as a woman started grabbing at me, blood was everywhere in seconds. They were starting to climb in through the window en’masse. I forced myself into the back and within seconds we had followers. It  looked like ladies night at the morgue, Jesse and I fled out the back door, the accident was right behind us, a mini-van turned the SR100 side of Finn’s into a drive thru. They ate him or her, and came after us. Jesse drug me to the 7-11 explaining that most on duty cops only leave that parking lot at night if they have no other choice.

            The scene at the 7-11 was like something out of a low budget movie, The zombie clerk was trying to eat the scanner while the still human clerk was being ripped apart by zombies next to the ice cooler outside. Lousy smoke break, if you ask me.  Jesse and I froze; I don’t know if she was scared or, like myself, suffering from the complete inability to accept the things my eyes we’re showing me. I’ve been driving that bus for the better part of a decade and this is the first time I’ve seen a dead person walking, let alone trying to eat me.  I had three thoughts at the time: steal the cigarettes, save the cookies and get out of here. Jesse ran inside, pulling me behind her and locked the door behind us. Just like that, we’re in a glass box with a monster looking out at more monsters. Before she noticed the zombie clerk had her by the hair. She screamed so loud I ducked, but only for an instant. I bludgeoned the young flesh eating clerk with his scanner, feeling quite guilty, he was a good kid.

            “Where’d he come from?” Jesse stammered behind me. I just shook my head and went to cut off the lights.

            The National Guard drove past and according to the local SURF radio they were on their way to contain the outbreak that had started with a bunch of bar hopping spring breakers. Numerous bars and clubs were destroyed by the blood thirsty beasts. All my mind could fathom was Daytona’s main strip drenched in blood, while flesh-eating, half-dressed corpses in 5 inch heels chased drunks down the streets. According to the radio, the National Guard was having difficulty keeping the dead down. They were steadily moving north.

             Apparently this town really does have everything, because 15 minutes after the word got out they were coming north, the DJ was calling for the able bodied to get together and blast the narrow section of the peninsula into a new inlet. Jesse heard that and bolted out the door running to the station over by the pier. She left the door unlocked, I should have been on my way to help, I should have at least went and locked the door, but I just sat behind the counter with the radio going, chain smoking, why not? The world is ending.

            It happened when I got out of the bathroom, this was my fourth trip. If you got free access to the 7-11’s Slurpee machine you’d totally understand why. I lit a cigarette as I came out, I went in the bathroom with the radio telling me how the ‘recon’ team had come back with a lot of explosives. They didn’t say where any of it came from, but they did say that we’d lost four of the nine that had went to Palm Coast and only one person of the two truckloads that had gone to the armory in Daytona. When I came out of the bathroom she grabbed my hand. I thought it was Jesse excited about her run to the armory or whatever. Suddenly I got pain. She had bit into my forearm which caused me to beat her in the head and jerk my arm away. I was bleeding profusely and the zombie’s got in my castle so I ran.

            I ran straight out the door and jumped over the fence, why lie?  I tumbled through the cactus’ into the sand of the beach. I wrapped my bleeding arm in a towel I found next to a garbage can on my way up to the pier. I figure I was bitten by a zombie this morning why not blow something up before dinner, but by the time I got there everyone had left.

             Gun shots have been ringing up and down the island, the bodies are everywhere, some getting back up and some being put down. The screams are just as bad as the gunshots, the living screaming for sanity, the dying screaming for mercy and the dead screaming for food. It’s such a shame to have all this horror on such a nice spring day.

            The explosion rattled people that hadn’t yet been privy to our situation, shook them to their feet on the zombie infested weekend. I have been hiding in the radio booth under the A-frame at the pier. It’s been quiet here since the “boom” so I’ve been calling people on the air and getting them to call me on the bait shop line, trying to get a good account of our situation. The abounding truth is we can’t find anyone that was part of blowing out the peninsula, most of us think they we’re collateral damage of the boom. South A1A is certainly gone and the explosion made a nice deep inlet about two hundred feet south of High Bridge, it also made the zombies more alert. They’re looking for us. No word of what happens if you get bit, so I am left to wonder, am I going to die?

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