The Zombie Apocalypse Call Center: Who are you going to call to survive the zombie apocalypse? (The Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Series Book 1) Read online

  The Zombie Apocalypse Call Center

  Taylor Ellwood

  Portland, Oregon

  The Zombie Apocalypse Call Center

  by Taylor Ellwood

  © 2019 first edition

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  The right of Taylor Ellwood to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Cover Art: Mark Reid

  Editor: Kat Bailey

  Imagine Your Reality Publication

  http://www.imagineyourreality.com

  Other Fiction by Taylor Ellwood

  Learning How to be a Hero series

  Learning How to Fly

  Learning How to be Free

  Learning How to be a Hero

  The Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series

  Secret Missions of the the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center

  Coming Soon

  Rebels of the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center

  Dedication

  To anyone who’s ever worked at a customer support call center and heard the phrase, “I Pay for Support.”

  Acknowledgements

  I wanted to acknowledge the following people, who helped make this book possible: Mark Reid for creating an awesome cover, my wonderful fans for letting me know how excited they were about this book, and to my co-workers who’ve worked with me in the trenches of a call center, Deb, Shanna, Jess, Tracy, Tim, Shawna, Greig, James, and Jeremy...your sense of humor has kept me sane on the hard days! And a huge thanks to my dearest Kat, for editing my book and believing in my writing and me. Without you this book wouldn’t be what it is.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Bonus

  Chapter 1: Day 1

  Bring! Bring! Bring!

  It’s 7 a.m. and I’ve just started my shift at the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center, run by Zombii Co.

  “H-hello?”

  “Hello, this is Sam with Zombii Co. May I ask who I’m speaking with please?”

  On the screen I just see one name, but you always have to confirm who is calling. We get prank calls sometimes, and other times people just try to take advantage of our support.

  “This is Gerald. I, uh, I want to confirm that I have the latest Zombii Co. upgrades.” I imagine Gerald has darting blue eyes and wavy brown hair. He sounds like he’s in his mid-thirties.

  “Sure, Gerald. Before we do that, I need your account number please?”

  “Uh, 53001121.”

  “Thank you, sir. What version number do you have for the Zombie Apocalypse prep kit?”

  “It’s version 19.”

  “Ok. That’s the Silver Package. With that you should get 2 days of supplies and 5 days of emergency rations, plus our Zombii Spray, the shotgun and the glock, and 3 extra clips of ammo. Oh, and 5 support tickets.”

  “S-so I don’t have the latest version? I need the latest version.” He sounds stressed, which isn’t all that unusual with our customers. Most of them are waiting for the Zombie Apocalypse to happen- are sure that it will happen- any day now.

  “No, sir. The latest version is the Platinum version. With it you get unlimited support tickets, our patented Zombii Bazooka, plus the AR-17, AK-47 and 10 boxes of ammo, and of course all the other weapons I mentioned. And you get 10 cases of our Zombii Spray,” I rattle this information off matter of factly.

  “How much is THAT?” His voice rises on that last word. He’s moving from stress to aggravation.

  “Platinum membership is $5,000.00 a year. You do get ammo each year with this plan.” I say this calmly, trying to soothe him.

  “That’s a fucking ripoff! Do you know how much I pay for the Silver Plan?” Now he’s angry, acting entitled. These customers, I swear they think they should be given the royal treatment for how much they pay. They think they can treat us like shit because of how much they pay for support. What they never ask is how much I’m paid to deal with their anger, frustration, and overall bad attitudes. The answer is not enough, not nearly enough, to deal with their insanity.

  “Sir, I’m just telling you what the plan costs. Please remember what you’re really buying is peace of mind for when the inevitable Zombie Apocalypse comes. And the Platinum Plan does come with our warranty where we’ll replace any malfunctioning equipment free of charge.” I put a little iron into my voice, my subtle way of saying back down with that anger.

  “And what happens when your equipment malfunctions during the Zombie apocalypse, hunh? What happens then? Will your fancy warranty save my ass when they’re about to chow down on me?”

  “Sir, we’ll certainly do the best we can to honor the warranty during such an event. In fact we’re fully stocked and loaded with drones that can take ammo anywhere in the world, including your location. And the Platinum tickets get top priority in the case of such an event.” What I don’t tell him is we actually don’t have drones. Why invest in something you don’t need? Sure, we sell people on the idea of the Zombie Apocalypse, but as I’ve learned since I started working here, no one really believes it.

  “Sounds nice in theory, but you know the ammo I got with the silver package didn’t work. I tried it out as soon as I got it and the ammo was blanks. What guarantee do I have that you’re really providing live ammo?”

  “Sir, have you gone to a gun range and verified that the ammo are blanks? If you take your guns to a gun range and load the ammo that comes with it, you’ll see that it works. However, I recommend holding onto that ammo for when the Zombie Apocalypse happens.”

  “I took it to the gun range and fired some of the ammo and I’m telling you what I shot were blanks. It wasn’t live ammo, like it’s supposed to be!”

  I can see he’s going to fight me all the way on this, so I make the smart choice and try to defuse the situation.

  “Gerald, I’m willing to refund you or replace the ammo that isn’t live, provided you can show us proof that the ammo provided were blanks. Can you do that for me?”

  “Uhm. No. Never mind.”

  “Ok. Can I help you with anything else?”

  “Can I do the Platinum Support Plan on a payment plan?”

  “Yes, you can sir. We do charge 3% interest on the payments, but I’d be happy to put you on the Platinum Plan. As I said before, you’ll get the warranty, the drones, medical assistance and a bunch of other perks which will prove invaluable to helping you survive the Zombie Apocalypse.

  “Uh alright. I guess I’ll upgrade to the Platinum Program. I want to be prepared as quickly as possible. How long will it take for everything to ship to me?”

  “We’ll overnight it so you have it the next morning, and of course you’ll get all the upgrades once I’ve switched you to Platinum status.”

  “And if Zombies attack me, the drones will deliver will ammo and guns and anything else I need?”

  “Yes, sir. The drones are standing by, ready to go, if the Zombie Apocalypse happens.”

  “Ok. I guess I better do it, just in case something happens.”

  I collect Gerald’s payment information and upgrade his status from Silver to Platinum and mark the shipping for overnight.

  “Gerald, is there anything else I can help you with?” My stomach rumbles and I hope I can get this guy off the phone so I can go on break and snag a snack from the vending area.

  “No, that will be all.”

  “Alright, Gerald. You have a fantastic day and thank you for calling Zombii Co, where we’ll prepare you for the inevitable Zombie Apocalypse.”

  He hangs up and I put myself into a status of scheduled break. My cubemate Chaz is in wrap status typing up notes. He pauses and swivels his chair toward me.

  “That call sounded brutal, but it looks like you got a lead,” He says.

  “Yeah, I did. I talked him into a Platinum upgrade. Sucker.”

  Chaz chuckles and then says, “There’s one born every minute, until the Zombie Apocalypse happens.”

  He swivels back to his notes, and I grab my smart phone and head to break.

  The Zombie Apocalypse Call Center is a five-story building, and I’m on the fourth floor. All support analysts, chat or phone, are located on the top two floors. Floor one is a warehouse that stores the ammo and guns, complete with a shooting range that customers or staff can use. The second floor is where the gun smith lives, and the third floor is where you’ll find the programmers. One of the running jokes of the place is that the higher you are in the building, the lower your status is on th
e corporate wall board. Every one of us is encouraged to use the gun range because we need to know how the guns work and how to take them apart and clean them. In the case of the support analysts, we’re expected to be able to walk people through the process, which is what most of my calls consist of.

  I walk past a couple rows of cubicles where other analysts are laboring away on calls. I catch a glimpse of Ember, one of the other analysts. She’s got curly brunette hair and dark eyes that seem to see right through me. She catches a glimpse of me and waves a hand. I nod back, drinking her in with my eyes. We’ve said hello occasionally, but I haven’t talked with her further because we’re co-workers. I know she’s into at least a couple of things I’m into because she once commented on a video game shirt I was wearing and mentioned she liked playing it. She’s also told me she wants to be a mortician, which is oddly appropriate for this job. I keep going, not wanting to let my interest show any further.

  I reach the stairs and climb up them to the fifth floor, which has a quiet lunch area with windows and chairs. I always come here to eat and read when I’m on lunch. No one else is here, and even if they are, we don’t disturb each other. An unspoken rule in the call center is you don’t bother someone on break if they want alone time. We deal with enough people all day long.

  I pull out a book and start reading. I’m something of an anomaly at the call center. Most people, when on their breaks, are glued to their phones or gaming systems. I like playing games, but I also enjoy reading and since I already spend a lot of time on a screen, sometimes all I really want is to read. I start digging into one of the books in the Outlander series while munching on my apple. My cell phone buzzes a few moments later. It’s my mom, which is a surprise because she usually never calls. We don’t live together and I see her infrequently. She never leaves her home, except to go to work, and she’s very twitchy about having anyone over because she’s worried they’ll get her sick, or something else will happen.

  “Hey mom, what’s up?”

  “Sam, are you at work?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “That’s probably the best place for you to be right now. Check the news when you get a chance, and don’t come home unless you absolutely have to.”

  “Uhm, okay. Can’t you tell me what’s going on?” I ask. Mom’s a little weird sometimes, and this is one of those times.

  “All I know is people are randomly attacking each other. I’m about to put the house on lockdown. I’ll see you when the crisis is over. I tried calling your sister, but I wasn’t able to reach her.”

  “I saw Alisha at the convenience store this morning. Everything seemed fine when I saw her.”

  “I’m telling you it’s not fine now. I’ll try and reach her again, or maybe you can.”

  She hangs up before I can say anything else. When she tells me she’s putting the house on lockdown, it means she’s barring the doors and windows and loading her guns. And if anyone tries to get in- watch out- because she’ll shoot first and ask questions later. She has these lockdown episodes every so often, which is one of the reasons neither Alisha nor I live with her. We live in an apartment together while we’re going to school, because we realized early on it was easier to raise ourselves instead of relying upon Mom.

  I sigh and then dig into the rest of my lunch. She’s being paranoid again. I’m sure everything is fine. I momentarily debate calling Alisha or texting her, but I don’t want to get her in trouble at her work. Maybe I’ll check in later.

  When my lunch break wraps up I head back down to my cubicle and login to my computer. I’m really surprised because our call queue has gone up to 50 calls with two and a half hour waits. We usually get a consistent stream of calls, but I’ve never seen our queue swell up that high.

  Ben, my manager, comes over and says, “I’ve been looking for you! Where have you been?” Ben’s wearing a solid blue business shirt, and black slacks. His dark hair is slicked back and his green eyes are looking panicked and frantic.

  “I was on lunch break, Ben. I was about to log back in. What’s the deal with the queue?”

  “I don’t know. It just suddenly exploded. People are calling in claiming Zombies are attacking them and they want our help. Get on the phone and let’s get this queue down.”

  “Ok.”

  I take my status off lunch and put it back into ready. Immediately the system dials a phone number. I wait for someone on the other line to pick up the phone, but all I get is a voice mail recording.

  “This is Roger. Please leave a message.”

  “Hey, Roger. This is Sam from Zombii Co. I’m so sorry I missed you, but please give us a call back when you can and someone will be happy to help you.”

  The system hangs up and it’s onto the next call. In the first few minutes, I just get voicemails. It’s probably because these people have moved onto other things or we missed them. I’m sure we’ll hear back from them soon enough.

  Then I get a live call.

  “Hello, this is Sam with Zombii Co. May I ask who I’m speaking with please?”

  “Jenny. Account number 53004820.”

  I punch Jenny’s account number in and it pulls up all of her information. She’s got a Gold Plan and this is her first ticket.”

  “How can I help you today, Jenny?”

  Jenny takes a deep breath and says, “How can you help me today? Well first I want my money back because everything you provided didn’t work, and now a zombie has bitten me. And then I want you to get me to a hospital and get this bite treated.”

  At first I’m wondering if she’s pranking us, because there are no such things as zombies. But she sounds pissed and hurt.

  “Ma’am, it’s against our policy to offer refunds. We’re happy to replace defective equipment, or I can walk you through how to fix it, but that’s all I can do. And I can’t call a hospital for you. You’ll need to dial 911 for that.”

  “Oh, you’re fucking kidding me. Your damn equipment doesn’t work. The Zombii spray didn’t do anything to the zombies. The guns killed a few of those fuckers, but it didn’t do enough to stop them from getting me. And now I’m feeling hot and flushed and I need medical help, and you’re telling me I have to call 911. I thought the whole point of having a Gold Package was that I would get access to emergency services. Isn’t that part of what you promised?”

  She’s right. It is part of the Gold Plan, but just as with the drones, there’s nothing actually implemented. We never thought something like this would happen. My mind boggles at the idea of zombies. I want to hang up on her or tell her she’s joking, but she sounds serious. So I do the next best thing to get her off the phone.

  “Jenny I’m putting a call into emergency services for you right now. Hang tight and we’ll get someone there to take care of you.”

  Ben hears this and starts shaking his head no, before I give him the thumbs up sign.

  “Alright, Sam. You should have my address. Send them there. After I get better I’ll be calling back about that refund.”

  “Ok, Jenny. Hang tight.” I hang up the phone and start updating my notes.

  Ben comes over and hisses at me, “What are you doing telling her you’ll call emergency services. You know we don’t have emergency services.”

  “I know sir, but she got the Gold Plan and it is part of the plan, so I’ll call them real quick and get someone to her.”

  “We don’t have time for that! You need to take the next call and get this queue down! She’s probably suffering from a delusion.” I look into his green eyes and I see the fear and denial in them. He doesn’t want this, whatever it is, to be true. I can’t blame him for that.

  “Ben, I’ll get on the next call after I call emergency services. It’s part of our promise and we don’t want to be held liable.”

  That brings Ben up short and he nods at me after nervously gulping. The last thing Zombii Co wants is more liability suits.

  I dial 911, and after what seems to take forever, I finally reach someone.

  “911. What’s the nature of your emergency?”

  “Hi, there. My name’s Sam and I have a customer who’s been injured in their home and needs to be taken to the hospital.”

  “What’s the nature of the injury.”

  “Uh, she claims she was attacked in her home by someone. She drove them off, but they uh, they bit her.”