Zombie Exodus Novel, chapter 4, Mindy (Patreon)

Mindy stared into her reflection in the mirror and cursed the apocalypse. She was never one to wear a sports bra and yoga pants, let alone a purple sports bra and yellow, form-fitting yoga pants. Her long legs looked spindly and her thin physique appeared boyish, especially compared to Candace’s curvy figure. Had she been allowed to go home, she would change into more appropriate clothes, but the curfew forced everyone off the streets.

“You look fine,” Candace said as she leaned on the bathroom door, wearing the same clothes but in red and black.

“I look ridiculous,” Mindy said. She stretched out the tight-pants until they snapped back into place. Gazing into the bedroom mirror, she saw Candace reflected in the surface, bubbly and smiling with no care in the world. 

“Well no one told you to get your other clothes all dirty.” Candace turned away from the bedroom and disappeared into the living room. The sounds of Maroon 5’s One More Night filled the apartment; some disc jockey thought it whimsical to play a marathon of music entitled, “Songs of the Apocalypse.”

Mindy followed Candace to the other room. “I wasn’t just rolling around in the mud for the hell of it. I got infected blood on my clothes from killing a zombie that was trying to eat us.”

Candace brushed her hair in long even strokes, and the light in the room picked up the subtle blond strands in the sea of deep red. “Okay, but these are the only clothes I own that fit you. Or you can wear a sun dress.”

Mindy pouted. Candace was her best friend, and she didn’t want to complain to her anymore. She knew she meant well and did not want to break her friend’s spirit. The apocalypse would rob her of that soon enough.

“Besides, I think it makes you look cute,” Candace said. “Better than those baggy jeans and loose concert t-shirts you wear. The Eagles aren’t even relevant anymore.”

“Glenn Frey is one of the greatest guitarists ever, and Don Henley…”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Candace said with a laugh. “No one but old people listen to that stuff.”

Were they really arguing about music and fashion? Mindy wondered. Outside, the world descended deeper into chaos, and Mindy knew such discussions served little purpose anymore. All that mattered was surviving and since Candace was not taking things seriously, Mindy would have to look out for the both of them.

When the news broke about the sudden, aggressive spread of virus Zeta, Mindy rushed over to Candace’s apartment building. She had no thought that her friend lacked the capability to take care of herself, but Candace was far too trusting to handle surviving in the apocalypse. People took advantage of Candace during normal times, and her innocence made her an easy mark. When she answered an ad on Craigslist for red-headed models, Candace thought nothing of visiting the Starlight Motel for an audition. Mindy went along, and when the director of the commercial shoot suggested Candace audition sans clothing so he could ensure she was a natural red-head, Mindy broke a video camera over his head. When Candace’s brother, Tommy, asked her to co-sign a brand new pick-up truck for his start-up scrapping business, it was Mindy who found out that the truck was owned by a Russian drug dealer to whom Tommy owed forty-thousand dollars. Mindy was making it her job to keep Candace out of trouble, and this outbreak would surely keep her busy.

The phone rang from the other room. Candace answered, and her voice turned to a whisper. Mindy instantly knew it must be Candace’s boyfriend, Carl, on the other end. She cringed though she could not hear his voice and walked closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. Candace saw her and moved into the open kitchen, reaching the furthest point away possible. Her body stiffened, and she cupped the small cell phone with her hand.

Rolling her eyes, Mindy wrapped her soiled clothes in a ball and stuffed them into a trash bag, tied it up, and shoved it into her backpack. At the bottom of the bag sat a paintball gun that resembled an assault rifle she was hoping would ward off the creeps and scumbags using the apocalypse as an excuse to express their sociopathic tendencies. Her favorite real gun lay next to it, a .45 caliber M1911 her father gave her for Christmas. Happy Holidays, here’s cold steel with seven bullets. She checked the chamber and the magazine—empty. Her father would be disappointed in her wastefulness, but when the infected man attacked Candace, Mindy fired every round to drop him. Only the final shot to the head mattered, a valuable lesson in zombie mechanics which left Mindy covered in brown, gooey blood.

Candace walked into the living room and sat on the arm of the couch. Her face was as red as her hair, and she wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. 

“Are you okay?” Mindy asked, zipping her backpack up. It was a dumb question.

Candace nodded. “Of course. Fine. Boyfriends,” she said and put her hand to her head in the shape of a gun.

“What’s the plan?”

Candace paused and looked at the phone resting on her lap. “Good news actually,” she said in a sullen voice. “Carl said we can head across the river and stay at that old Cathedral he’s renovating. It should be safe there until everything blows over.”

A thousand questions filled Mindy’s head, though one took the forefront. “Is that what you want to do?”

Candace shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, it’s better than in the city. Once the government launches a counterattack on the infected, civilians will be in the crossfire.”

Mindy wondered if she was still speaking with her friend or the spirit of Carl. “If that’s what you want to do, I’m fine with that.”

“First step is for us to get out of this building. Police are keeping everyone inside because of the curfew. But I have an idea. We can ask Brad in the management office to help us get out. Maybe he’ll even give us a ride out of the city.” Candace’s eyes grew wide, the hazel in them even greener in the dim light of the room.

“Which one’s Brad?”

“The cute one with the blond hair and freckles,” Candace said, her eyebrows rising suggestively.

“He wears bow ties to work,” Mindy said with contempt. “He asked me to go to a beer garden and listen to a Dave Matthews cover band.”

Candace stood up and grabbed her keys. “He’s a nice guy with a career. That’s a good start to a relationship resume.” She walked to the door and popped the locks.

Mindy reached for her backpack but decided not to bring it. She doubted Brad would be so willing to help them, despite Candace’s way of extracting favors from people. If he did agree, she could always run up and grab their things before leaving. They would probably be at the cathedral for a while if the reports about this outbreak were true. Mindy had a nagging feeling that life would never be the same again, and for some reason, she liked that feeling.