"GOBBLE" - November 14, 2024
A heated Thanksgiving dinner turns violent as an outbreak reaches inside the home...
Every Thursday, Silver Gecko Publishing highlights one of my stories, either a work of short fiction, a novel, or an audiobook. This week’s selection is a sample from the novelette “GOBBLE,” available on Kindle.
As a rule, I’m not a huge fan of zombie stories. I like some of the Romero stuff, and now and then we get some cool takes on the genre like Shaun of the Dead or Fido, but cannibalistic zombies have never been my favorite monster.
So, as part of self-imposed therapy, about ten years ago, I wrote a series of zombie stories. The first one, NOT THE END, can be found as a standalone novelette on Kindle and included in my first horror anthology 13 TURNS on Kindle and in paperback.
GOBBLE was my second crack at the genre, and I quite like how it turned out. A few quick notes about the excerpt… since the text is roughly 15,000 words, and what is presented here is but a small portion. Also, since the opening of the story serves as set-up, you’ll be dropped into events without some of that. But, as everyone has had at least a few contentious holiday dinners with family, you should be able to get up to speed rather easily.
Finally, please admire the photography for the key image. At the time, we used an old girlfriend of my son Liam as the model. She’s quite lovely, isn’t she?
Anyway, enjoy the story, and pick up the Kindle version if you like what you’re reading.
-Kevin Carr
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Illustration by Kevin Carr
“GOBBLE: A Thanksgiving Novelette of the Zombie Apocalypse” by Kevin Carr
…Soon enough, Mark had learned first-hand why Sammi had handed him six china plates instead of just five. Not long after setting the table did Gail’s brother Jesse arrive. Jesse was a brash, aggressive man, overweight and overtall. He wore a thick black beard with streaks of gray in it, and Jesse’s personality matched his appearance perfectly. He reveled in broaching uncomfortable topics in polite conversation. Sheryl had warned Mark about this earlier, but Mark was not expecting him to come on so strong when he first met him.
The first thing that Jesse latched onto when they were introduced was Mark’s surname.
“Mallon?” Jesse asked. “You must be Catholic with a good Irish name like that. You’ll fit right in.”
Mark stammered, trying to wrestle his hand from Jesse, who had gripped him in the handshake almost as strongly as Steven’s. What the hell was wrong with people out here and their iron-fist handshakes? he thought. Then, he said quietly, “No...” Mark said. “Not quite.”
“How the hell do you ‘not quite’ be Catholic?” Jesse said with a grin. “That’s like being only kinda sorta pregnant.”
Jesse laughed a raucous laugh and pushed past Mark to say hi to the rest of the family. Sheryl mouthed, I’m sorry, to Mark as she passed by her uncle. Another sign of warmth from her. Mark felt a glimmer of hope that things might get better throughout the visit.
Of course, he was very wrong, as he would discover soon enough.
Mark knew the subject of religion would be a sore spot with the family. His father was raised Catholic, and that’s where he got his surname. However, his mother was Jewish, and his father had converted when they got married. Of course, even though Mark was raised Jewish, he hadn’t believed in any form of religion for years.
Sheryl’s family, however, was hardcore Catholic. She had warned him that it was going to be an uphill battle to convince her parents that she would be well off with a non-Catholic Christian, let alone a Jewish man... or an atheist, God forbid.
Fortunately for Mark, the subject of religion was off the table for the moment. Like a child with a shiny object, Jesse was easily distracted.
Of course, that did not last. By the time the family had sat down for dinner, ready to eat, it reared its head again.
As soon as everyone was around the table, Steven grabbed Gail and Sammi’s hands on either side. The rest of the family followed suit, knowing what would come next.
Except Mark. He sat between Gail and Sheryl, and he did not move his hands from his lap. At first, it was because he didn’t realize what was happening. Gail reflexively grabbed for his hand but ended up knocking his silverware into his plate.
Sheryl reached down in Mark’s lap, surprising him. That’s when he looked around and saw everyone staring at him. Two seats down, Steven held his hands up, with Sammi and Gail’s hands attached. He was nodding at Mark while gesturing at him with his hands, his look growing quickly annoyed.
“Mark,” Sheryl said softly, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it up to the table. “Not now.”
Gail politely and patiently held her hand out for Mark to grab.
“Come on, son,” Steven said sternly. “We say grace in this family before we eat.”
Mark took a deep breath. “I can respect that,” he said but still didn’t grab hands.
“Not now,” Sheryl said a little louder and squeezed his hand.
“Really?” Jesse said with a grin. “A nice Catholic boy named Mallon is refusing to pray?”
“I’m not Catholic,” Mark said softly.
“Mark was raised Jewish,” Sheryl said a little louder.
“That shouldn’t matter,” Steve said, looking him dead in the eye. “If I travel to Jerusalem, I’m not going to demand a kosher restaurant serve me a cheeseburger on Shabbat. If you’re going to eat in this house, you’re going to say grace with the rest of us.”
“Come on,” Jesse said. “It’s Thanksgiving. We all have something to be thankful for. I, for one, love the Jews. I’m very thankful you killed Jesus. If that didn’t happen, we wouldn’t even have a religion.”
“Jesse!” Gail hissed, clearly offended by his joke. Jesse grinned. It was exactly the reaction that he was going for.
“Just do it,” Sheryl said. “Just grab his hand.” Then she said softly to him: “Don’t be an asshole.”
Mark looked at her. At this moment, he wished he had never come home with her this weekend. He knew by the look she gave him that this might have just killed their relationship. If only he had done this weeks before. The non-refundable plane ticket seemed like a fantastic write-off at this point.
Still, he wasn’t interested in getting into a fight. He didn’t have to justify his worldview, and he hadn’t eaten since that bag of pretzels on the plane at nine in the morning. It was just holding someone’s hand, after all. He didn’t actually have to pray.
So Mark took Gail’s hand and held onto Sheryl’s. He smiled at Steven, who took a few extra moments to stare him down. Then they said grace.
The rest of dinner went off quite well, much to Mark’s surprise. Jesse was too busy eating to stir the pot and cause more problems for Mark. Steven practiced his own forgive and forget philosophy and did not carry the grudge through dinner. Mark was polite enough. The food was good and plentiful, and they all ate their fill.
Except Sammi. Mark watched her pick at her food, only eating a few of the items, like some potatoes (with no gravy), the green bean casserole, the salad, and a piece of pumpkin pie. Mark would have worried that she was curbing her eating like some teenage girls do, but Sheryl had warned him about her vegetarian battle with her parents.
So aside from some prodding from her mother for Sammi to put more food on her plate, the meal was perfectly fine.
It was when everyone settled down for the post-dinner digestive session that things went bad.
Steven had positioned himself back on the couch, beer in hand, belt unbuckled, and ready to watch the end of the football game. Jesse sat next to him, mildly interested in the game but being attentive enough to jump into other people’s conversations.
Gail ended up in her easy chair next to an end table and a magazine rack filled with issues of Catholic Digest and various country living magazines. She had grabbed some knitting needles and a ball of yarn, but that hobby only lasted a few minutes until she dozed off, a victim of the turkey’s tryptophan.
Sammi sequestered herself in the corner, sulking a bit from the lack of dinner choices, her nose buried in her smart phone again.
That left Mark and Sheryl sitting together ironically on the loveseat, keeping their distance due to the contention of the day. Still, they both attempted to put on a good show.
Jesse seemed inclined to put an end to that good show.
“So,” he finally said, looking at Mark. “You’re Jewish. I don’t think Sheryl’s ever had a Jewish boyfriend.”
Sheryl hung her head. She knew what was coming next.
“I was just raised Jewish,” Mark said.
Jesse shrugged. “So, you’re just circumcised, but you still eat bacon?”
“Jesse,” Sheryl moaned. “Please stop.”
Mark patted Sheryl’s arm as if to say, I’ve got this.
“I haven’t practiced the Jewish faith since I was a teenager,” Mark said.
Jesse laughed. “I like the way you think, son. Get that bar mitzvah money and get out before the guilt really starts to set in. I should have done that after confirmation myself. At least we can agree on the guilt thing, Mark. Catholics and Jews aren’t that far apart in making their kids feel like shit.”
“Jesse!” Gail murmured, still half asleep in her chair. Even unconscious, she reflexively scolded her brother.
“So what church do you belong to?” Steven asked, suddenly interested.
Mark paused for a moment. Now that Steven had entered the conversation, it would become serious. Jesse was just causing problems, setting the land mines for drama. Mark looked over at Jesse and could tell he was happy these land mines were about to explode into after-dinner entertainment for him.
“I’m an atheist,” he said flatly.
“What?” Steven said, bewildered. “No god? No higher power? Just random chance?”
“Yes,” Mark replied. “If you want to boil it down to its simplest form, yes. As much as everyone wants to believe there’s a greater intelligence guiding the universe, we’re nothing more than fourteen billion years of random chance. An awful lot can happen by chance and natural selection in fourteen billion years. Sorry if that disappoints you.”
Steven rolled his eyes. “I knew it,” he sighed, then looked at Sheryl. “This is why you never brought him home before now?”
“No dad,” Sheryl said. “Our relationship isn’t about religion.”
“Everything’s about religion!” Steven said. “Until it’s not, and that’s when the problems really start to happen.”
“Wait a minute,” Mark said. “You’re saying that the world’s problems are because of the lack of religion?”
“Yes,” Steven said. “We are losing God in this world.”
“What about all the wars in the past that have been fought over religion? How many people have died in God’s name?”
“Man is imperfect.”
“Of course he is,” Mark sighed. “Look at the Crusades...”
“Oh there it is,” Steven said, sitting up and ignoring the football for real now.
“What?”
“Every time someone brings up religion and violence, atheists stampede towards the Crusades.”
“Because the Crusades are a stellar example of how religion breeds violence. How many people died?”
“That was more than seven hundred years ago,” Steven said, smugly. “Talk to me about something more recent.”
“How about the Taliban and Al Qaeda? What about ISIS?” Mark sneered. “So many people dead to appease a god that doesn’t exist.”
Gail grunted heavily in her sleep. It wasn’t just Jesse’s comments that were stirring her.
“That’s an isolated group that should have been crushed years ago. And the civilized world is united against them anyway. Look at World War I, World War II, Vietnam, Korea, both Gulf Wars. These are conflicts that emerged because of politics and racism, not because of religion.”
Mark glared at Steven. “Don’t talk to me about how World War II didn’t involve religion.”
Steven glared back. “One man’s insane racist genocide does not speak for the entirety of Christianity.”
“Look, sir,” Mark said, using a polite tone but still sounding gruff, “the smartest people in the world are or were atheists: Alan Turing, Sigmund Freud, Carl Sagan, Stephen Hawking.”
“Other famous atheists come to mind, like Mao Tse-tung, Joseph Stalin, Pol Pot for example.”
“We can stack up evil men on either side,” Mark said calmly, “but when was the last time someone blew up a building filled with innocent people in the name of science?”
“Science doesn’t make you a good person,” Steven said. “And just because your examples are not religious doesn’t mean they don’t have faith. Take Stephen Hawking for example. Let him ask questions of science all day, and at some point, he will get to something he just can’t answer. And he has faith that science will solve the answer for him.”
“Not the same,” Mark said. “He’s not waiting for the Flying Spaghetti Monster to give him the answer while he’s oppressing women and murdering in its name. I can’t see how someone like you, with your background in science, still believe in a magical supreme being.”
“That’s faith,” Steven said. “And I find faith within science.”
“Denying evolution and climate change and all that nonsense?”
“No. Seeing the beauty in science,” Steven said. “Seeing God’s hand at work in it. Right, Sheryl?”
Steven gestured to Sheryl, who wouldn’t even look at him. Mark could see she was not happy with the turn of the conversation.
Mark turned to her, ignoring her body language which clearly stated she wanted the discussion to end.
“Come on, Sheryl,” Mark said. Then, with her silent response, he realized the truth. “You mean you haven’t told them?”
Steven looked at Mark curiously. Then he turned to Sheryl, and she refused to make eye contact.
“You’re not...” Steven said. “You’re not agreeing with him, are you?”
Sheryl didn’t speak, but everyone in the room knew the answer. Steven sank back into the couch, deflated.
Mark tried to touch her arm, but Sheryl jerked away.
“Jesus Christ!” Sheryl yelled. This shut everyone up, and awkward silence hung below the soft buzz of the football game on television.
A moment later, Gail grunted something unintelligible.
“Not now, ma!” Sheryl hissed. Gail grunted again, and Sheryl yelled back, “Not now!”
Gail slumped back down in her chair, her eyes still closed.
Sheryl turned to Mark. “You just had to engage in the fight, didn’t you?”
“I was just defending myself,” Mark said, shocked.
“No, you weren’t. You were letting Jesse bait you. And you gladly took that bait.” She turned and glared at Jesse, who was still sitting at the dining room table, stifling a grin.
Gail moaned from her chair, but Sheryl ignored her. She turned back to Mark.
“You think you’re so enlightened and have risen above all the delusional mouthbreathers you think believe in God, and you’re so smug about it. But that’s no excuse for being an asshole about it. I can respect anyone’s personal beliefs, but you want to fight anyone, and you want to be rude about it!”
“Sheryl...” Mark began.
“No!” Sheryl yelled at him. “Just be a decent person. And be polite. Hold hands when the family of the house wants to say grace, even if you don’t believe in it yourself. Be civil, or you’re no better than all the other intolerant assholes in the world!”
Gail grunted again, only this time it sounded less like words and more like a bark.
“Not now, Ma!” Sheryl yelled. Then she stood up and stormed out of the room, into the kitchen. Mark stood to follow her, but he stopped when he heard another sound coming from Gail’s throat.
It was a growling sound, a raspy sound. Wet, like when a week-long cough finally starts to loosen the phlegm in your lungs.
Then she barked. This time, it was clearly an inhuman sound.
Everyone froze. Even Jesse, who had been wearing a grin as he watched the family drama unfold, looked confused.
Gail barked again, her eyes still closed, and her body still slumped over, chin on her chest. A wad of spittle sprayed from her mouth and dribbled down her holiday sweater.
“Gail, honey...” Steven said softly, instantly forgetting the argument and concentrating on his wife. He stood up and walked towards her.
“Mom?” Sheryl said from the threshold between the dining room and the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”
And that’s when Gail screamed. Had the family not seen her do this, none would have believed the sound came from her mouth. She sounded like less than an animal, like some primal beast that had just emerged into existence.
Gail opened her eyes, and Steven gasped. A milky fluid had appeared over her pupils, turning her eyes a dingy gray. Blood vessels in the whites of her eyes had expanded and brightened, making her look less like a senior housewife and more like a dead possum.
Steven reached out gently and touched her hand. Gail seemed to recognize him when he touched her skin, which had suddenly grown pale and blotchy.
Then Gail smiled, but it wasn’t a normal smile. She bared her teeth and squinted her eyes. A noise escaped from her throat like a laugh, and she patted her husband’s hands with her own, still clutching a knitting needle.
“Gail, honey,” Steven said softly, and he reached out to touch her face. She smiled more and leaned her cheek into his palm.
“Dad...” Sheryl started.
“Call 911,” Steven said curtly.…