Zombified (Episode 1): Wooneyville by Matt Di Spirito Page A

shook her head.  "What are we going to do with Dana?  What if she turns nutso on us?"
    Joey helped himself to a smoke from Gigi's apron.  "I'll deal with her when that time comes, Ma.  Until then, I'm gonna lock her in the spare bedroom." Joey puffed on the smoke, letting the exhalation dribble out and up.
    "Where the hell is everybody, Joey?  I thought we told some people to come here if anything like this happened?  Wasn't that your plan?"  Gigi finished her cigarette, dousing it in the ashtray, and fished out another one.
    "That was the plan, but plans get fucked up sometimes."  Joey watched the smoke curl up; he equated humanity's existence to the smoldering tobacco--short and sweet.
    "Did you hear from Matty?"
    "Nah.  I left him a message, but I dunno where the hell he is right now.  I walked through hell to find her."  He nodded at Dana. 
    The house was quiet. 
    "Where's Dad?"
    "He went to the cabin with Marco yesterday."  She didn't seem too concerned.
    "What?!  Have you tried to contact him?" 
    "Of course I did, Joey!"  Gigi frowned and stomped into the kitchen.  "He went there with two rifles, a shotgun, and his old revolver--and plenty of ammo!"
    "Did you talk to him since this shit happened?"  Joey sat down on one of the barstools surrounding the marble-topped island.  "Is he coming home?"
    Gigi took a long drag and stamped out the butt.  "I don't know, Joey.  I couldn't get him on the phone or the radio.  But I know your father.  If he can't get home, he'll hold up in the cabin."
    Joey finished his smoke.  "This is insane.  Everyone I care about is scattered in this fuckin' madness."  He got up and headed for the garage.
    "Where are you going, Joey?"  Gigi called, glancing nervously in Dana's direction.
    "To use the radio, Ma."  Joey opened the door to the garage and stepped down.  He grabbed a flashlight from the shelf adjacent to the door and clicked it on.
    Piles of spare parts, tools, bottled water, and heaps of junk--most of it useful junk--decorated the garage.  A beat-up SUV was in the left bay.
    Joey picked his way through the unorganized piles and sat down at a worn workbench that ran the length of the wall at the back of the garage.  He clicked on a mounted radio unit and picked up the mic. 
    "Smart monkey, this is Savage Beast--over."  He fiddled with the dials, hunting for any signals.  Static and warbling voices faded in and out.  Joey flicked a switch and re-adjusted the dials.  "Hank at the cabin, this is Joey at the house--over."
    "… organized medical supplies and bunks on a first come, first serve basis ."
    The message faded to static; Joey turned the dials frantically, searching for a stable signal.  He caught it and listened intently--it was a pre-recorded message.
     
    " Red Cross and military personnel have established a refugee camp at Timmons National Guard Base at Garden Harbor.  Citizens should proceed by any possible means to route 17 south, crossing highway 419, and continue past the Old Moss Campgrounds.  The camp has organized medical supplies and bunks on a first come, first serve basis.  Personal firearms and anyone with medical or military training is urgently needed.  Message repeats ."
     
    Joey scribbled down the message, noting the directions given, and returned to scanning the frequencies.  He repeated the calls for 'Smart monkey'--Matty's self-given handle--and 'Hank at the cabin'. 
    "Joey!"  Gigi shuffled into the garage, shotgun in hand.  "Dana is moaning and twisting around on the couch--she's freaking me out!"
    "Shit.  All right, get over here and listen for anything from Matty or Dad."  Joey hopped off the stool and sidled past Gigi.  He checked the safety on his Glock before entering the living room.
    Dana was curled in a ball, shivering and twitching.  As Joey stepped closer, her eyes popped open and focused on him.
    Joey froze.  He couldn't breathe.  Say something, baby .  Tell me you're still human .  He licked