Chaos Theory: A Zombie Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

ounces, and he tossed the empty into a trash can. Swish. He moved to a book case, searched for a moment and pulled out a notebook. Scribbling something quickly, he passed it to me. My name is Ship, I don’t speak. What is your name? He took off his balaclava, and I picked the string theory book back up. His picture was on the back. Dr. Ship Parish. Good looking guy. Solid features, dark hair with little flecks of gray just starting to creep in over the ears. 
    I was stunned. Who the hell names their kid Ship? That’s just downright cruel. Can you imagine what the other kids said to him in the third grade? On the flip side, what person in their right mind would pick on this guy? He was a cross between Stephen Hawking and the Hulk. Not that stupid, crappy gray Hulk either, the green one that kicked ass. Yes, I’ve read a comic or three, and believe it or not, convicts root for the good guy too, it’s human nature. 
    I asked him if he was a genius, and he told me via notebook that was a relative term and smiled. The notebook also revealed that he was born with no vocal cords. I guess when they were cooking him, they missed one ingredient and made up for it with extra muscle and brains. The notebook continued to tell me things about him and we traded information for a few hours. 
    Ship was from California. Grew up near San Francisco, attended the California Institute of Technology, then traded one tech school for another and graduated from MIT with a double doctorate in physics and quantum physics. He also passed the Massachusetts engineering exam and was a board member of the National Science Foundation.
    Holy shit. 
    He had given up his lifestyle to move into solitude because he couldn’t stand society anymore. Made his living writing books and giving online written lectures. 
    This guy must have terrified all the uber-nerds in the United States. Can you imagine disagreeing with him on the fundamentals of particle acceleration? I mean one sideways glance and the geeks would crumble and assent to whatever Ship said. I mean wrote down in his notebook. I chuckled at the thought of Ship being king of the nerds and he looked at me quizzically. 
    I let him know what I was thinking and he smiled too. I began to talk and he began to listen. I was in the process of telling him about being bitten, when he became rigid and looked nowhere special. He stood stock still and put a finger to his lips. His massive frame moved past me and he extinguished the lantern we had been using. He parted the dark curtains, and looked outside, then motioned me to do the same. 
    In the pre-evening gloom, I could make out shapes moving in the woods not too far away from the tree house. Directly below us was something I would never forget. Standing in the snow, not the least bit bothered by the cold, was a man in a bloody cop uniform with an arrow protruding from his chest. He stared up at me staring down at him. His mouth was impossibly wide open and he let out that mournful moan that was like a dinner bell for his buddies. They came as quickly as their dead legs would carry them. 
    Ship and I both kind of backed away from the window. We looked at each other and he shrugged and beckoned me to follow him. We sat near his laptop and he powered it up. It was plugged into the wall. I asked him how he had power and he told me that the solar panels were functional, and he had two windmills for additional power an eighth of a mile into the woods in a clearing. Fifty-six yacht batteries stored the power for use and the whole house and two small sheds were rigged for off-grid power. Genius. 
    He jotted something down on his notebook and passed it to me. Plenty of food and drink. If they go away we’re good, if not we will go take them out in the morning . Power is out across the country, but some nuke plants and solar/wind arrays are still functioning. Ship pointed to the screen, which held a map of the U.S. with different colored dots all over it. Red