A Plague on All Houses (16 page)

“That really stinks,” I said.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Let's go.”

We reached the cover of the trees and headed in the direction of the road. Our night vision was definitely on the list of enhanced senses, a good thing since the only light in the woods was a bit of reflected gleam from the kliegs off in the distance and a little bit of moonlight filtering through the trees.

We ran as quickly as we could, pine needles and leaves crunching under our feet. It was eerily quiet other than the sound of our footsteps—no crickets, birds, animals or any other ambient noises at all. I didn't share my observation with Lil; she'd just freak out in the certainty the zombies had eaten every living organism in the general vicinity.

I hoped her cats were okay.

We reached the road, a cracked and weathered stretch of asphalt connecting Big Red to Redwood Grove, long overdue for maintenance. Several cars sat off to the side of the road, doors flung open and ominous dark stains splattered on the seats and the road below. Whatever happened here had not ended well for whoever had been in those vehicles.

We stuck close to the tree line at the side of the road, jogging at a steady pace towards town. For the most part we ignored any zombies lurching along towards campus, only engaging in battle if any of them presented an immediate threat. In those cases either Lil or I took them down with sword or pickaxe (or, in one case, both). Synchronized slaying, the sport of champions.

“Do you think there are any survivors?” asked Lil as we neared our destination. It didn't take a genius to figure she was thinking about her mom.

“Sure. We had survivors in the dorms, so no reason to think people couldn't hole up in a safe spot off campus. A lot of those older houses have attics and crawl spaces.”

“Yeah…” Lil fell quiet as the first buildings became visible a few hundred yards down and across the road.

Redwood Grove has one main street running in and out of town, with the rest of the streets laid out in your basic grid. You'd have to really work hard to get lost in Redwood Grove. Normally the lights from town would have lit the sky above it, but a lot of them were out. Not all of them; some streetlights, probably on automatic timers, still gave a comforting glow and it looked like a few buildings had lights burning in windows, but it was as if someone had hit the dimmer switch on Redwood Grove.

Closest to the college were the fraternity and sorority houses, big old Victorians with the house letters either hanging from banners or signs on the front of the buildings. Normally they'd be well lit, music blasting from the windows until the Redwood Grove police received the inevitable complaints from less party-hearty-inclined residents a block or so away. Now the windows were dark and the silence downright eerie. The Alpha Chi Kappa house's front door stood wide open, the entryway a black throat leading inside. My enhanced night vision showed splotches of dark liquid on the porch, pretty much signaling that was all she wrote for good old ACK. Talk about a perfect acronym. I didn't look too closely at what lay scattered about on the lawn next to an aluminum keg. Time enough for that when we came back to search for survivors and clean up the town.

The sound of shuffling feet caught my attention. I grabbed Lil by her shoulder and held a finger up to my mouth for quiet. We hunkered down behind a Prius as a lone zombie made its way unsteadily out of the frat house. Well, I guess it could have been a totally drunk-off-his-ass frat boy, but the blood on its L.L. Bean flannel shirt said otherwise.

Lil and I stayed hidden behind the car until it lurched out of sight, then resumed our careful journey towards the town's business district. No sense ringing the dinner bell unless we absolutely had to; this was a recovery mission and the less attention we called to ourselves, the better. I still wasn't sure exactly how we were gonna get two no doubt freaked-out felines back to Big Red, but we'd figure it out. We could always find a car with keys in it, although driving back up to the barricade wasn't exactly the way to keep up the stealth part of the mission. If there was any way of getting back in without anyone else (okay, without Gabriel) finding out we'd been gone, I was determined to find it.

We cut through yards to save time, keeping our eyes and ears open. The quiet was as unnatural as the walking dead. No dogs barking, no babies crying. No sounds of insects or cars or televisions. Nothing.

“Where are they?” Lil whispered as we crept through past a swing set in the backyard of a single-story Craftsman bungalow. “The zombies, I mean.”

I shrugged, stepping over an overturned tricycle. “Probably a lot headed up to Big Red because of all the noise up there.” I led the way through a narrow side-yard leading to the front of the bungalow. “Maybe they've eaten everything there is to eat here.” Seeing Lil's expression, I hastily added, “Or that they can get at. Or maybe—”

I stopped short, words drying up in my mouth.

We'd reached the end of the side of the house, a chain-link gate separating us from the front yard, which looked out on the far end of the main drag—which was crawling with zombies. I swallowed once, then twice. “Or maybe they're all hanging out on Main Street.”

Lil and I crouched down behind the gate, peering out between the gaps at what had to be the majority of the zombie population in Redwood Grove. Why they were all wandering down the middle of Main Street was beyond me, unless they really were drawn to urban centers and stores, like the mall in the original
Dawn of the Dead
.

“Where's your mom's store?” I whispered.

Lil pointed to the right, where a seemingly nonstop parade of zombies was heading. “Pretty much dead center of town.”

I snorted and she shot me an apologetic look.

“I know… but seriously, the store's in the Courtyard.”

I knew exactly where that was. The Courtyard was a little shopping center made up of individual cottages ringing a courtyard with a rose garden in the center. The cottages were all “of historical significance,” and the shops were a deliberately eclectic mix of local artisans, craft stores, a shop specializing in handmade chocolates, and a children's bookstore called Heffalumps and Woozles. The overall affect was quaint with a capital Q.’ Or twee with a capital T, which rhymes with Z and stands for zombie, probably the only shoppers left in Redwood Grove about now. And I doubted they'd appreciate anything quaint or twee unless it was edible.

I shook my head, getting my brain back on track.

“This is gonna be tricky. Odds are those things are all over the courtyard.”

There's a back entrance off an alley.” Lil patted one of her many pockets. “I've got the keys to get in either way.”

I nodded slowly. “So the real trick here is to get down there without every zom in town seeing us.”

We decided to backtrack a few blocks and cross over to the other side of Main Street where it dead-ended into Oak, which ran perpendicular to Main. Oak had the public library, the high school, and a couple of small shops on it (whoever thought it was a good idea to build a liquor store a block from a high school needed his or her head examined), but it didn't seem to be zombie central like Main Street. Guess no one wanted to read or go to high school in the afterlife.

Slackers.

Oh well, better for me and Lil to avoid being seen as we dashed down Oak and across the end of Main Street, heading for the alley that ran the length of the business district. Dumpsters and trashcans lined the alley, giving us plenty of cover.

“How many blocks?” I hissed as we cautiously made our way down the alley as quietly and quickly as possible.

“Maybe four or five?” Lil guessed. “It's in between Aspen and Beech. I don't usually take the alley.”

“Get your keys out now. Just in case, y'know?”

Lil nodded. “Good idea. Hang on a sec.” We paused next to a wickedly stinky Dumpster so Lil could fish the keys out of one of her pants packets. One thing I'll say for military fashion, you never run out of pockets.

We continued down the alley, our feet crunching on broken glass and other debris. Luckily the sound didn't seem to attract any unwelcome undead attention. The moon had come out from behind the clouds, giving us plenty of ambient light to see by.

One of the restaurants we passed, Baxter's Brewery, had a light on inside, the glow filtering out a filthy window overlooking the alley. We heard the shuffling feet and moans of the undead coming from within. I wondered if one of them had accidentally hit the light switch, and if so, if the same light was now attracting more zombies to the restaurant, a sort of “dinner is served” sign.

Lil smacked my arm. “We're almost there.” She kept her voice to a whisper. “It's the next block up. We just have to cross Aspen Street and we're there.”

Aspen is, or was, another one of the busier streets in Redwood Grove, a home to several restaurants, a trendy boutique, and a Safeway grocery. At least a dozen zombies shambled, staggered, or lurched up and down Aspen in either direction. One of them, a female dressed in ragged layers that may or may not have been filthy before its reanimation, pushed an empty shopping cart in front of it. Bag Lady zombie.

Lil and I hugged the wall of the alley a few feet from where it opened onto Aspen. I poked my head out and looked both ways; a pretty much sparse but steady trickle of zombies wandered in either direction.

I ducked back behind the wall. “We're going to have to run for it. I think we can make it to the shop, but they'll know we're in there. Which means they'll all hone in on us and make getting out again a real bitch. So we'll have to be fast.”

Lil nodded. “I've got a cat carrier inside. We'll grab Binkey and Doodle and run for it.”

“Can you handle the carrier and your pickaxe?”

Lil hesitated, then nodded again. “Whatever it takes.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Let's do this.” I slapped her shoulder and we took off across Aspen Street, dodging several zombies who immediately started moaning and clutching at us. We knocked them aside and dashed into the alley on the other side of the street. Bag Lady zombie turned her shopping cart around and slowly wheeled it after us as we sprinted for the back of Betty's Bead Emporium—and Lil's apartment.

“Here!” Lil slammed to a halt in front of a non-descript metal door in between two Dumpsters. I barely stopped myself from running headlong into her.

“That's my mom's car!” Lil stared at a green Mini Cooper parked haphazardly next to the front Dumpster.

“That's great,” I said as I unholstered my M4. “Maybe she's inside. Let's get in there and find out, okay?”

“Yeah!” Lil set her pickaxe down and fumbled with the keys. The moon had gone behind a patch of clouds again and the light in the alley was almost nonexistent.

“You got it?” I advanced a few steps and took off Bag Lady zombie's head with one solid stroke of my blade, then sent the point through its brainpan. It slid slowly to the ground, releasing its hold on the shopping cart. The weight of its body sent the cart rolling towards Lil as she finally managed to slide a key into the lock. The tumblers clicked as she turned the key, unlocking the door.

“Got it!”

Acting on impulse, I grabbed the cart and hauled it up to the door as Lil pulled it open.

“Are we going shopping?” Lil raised an eyebrow as I muscled the cart over the doorjamb and into a dark hallway.

“Considering we have two cats and probably some supplies for them to haul back to Big Red, seems like a set of wheels might come in handy.”

The hallway led to a door that most likely opened up to the shop itself and a stairway that led upstairs. “Apartment's up here.” Lil bounded up the stairs eagerly. I left the cart and hurried after her.

“Lil, wait a sec, okay?” If her mom's car was there, her mom might indeed be upstairs, but not necessarily alive. And I didn't know if Lil was ready or able to cope with that.

I caught up with Lil just as she reached the door to the apartment, grabbing her wrist before she turned the key in the lock. “Go slow, okay?”

Lil glared at me, kind of like a sweet cuddly kitten suddenly going feral. “Why?”

“Because you don't know who … or what might be in there.”

Lil started to answer, then stopped as it dawned on her what I meant. “It's … you mean, my mom…”

“Probably not,” I said quickly, hating the stricken look in her eyes. “But we have to be careful.”

Lil took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

She unlocked the door, then deliberately tucked the key back in her pocket before cracking the door about an inch. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Mom? … Mom, are you there?”

“Prroww?”

Lil's face lit up. “Doodle!” She ran into the apartment, caution thrown out the window at the sound of a cat's meow. I followed, sword and LCD flashlight at the ready.

The apartment was small but cute, decorated in Maxfield Parish prints on the walls, eclectic second-hand furnishings, and enough cat toys scattered on the color to entertain an entire colony of cats, let alone two. The placed definitely smelled of cats, more specifically of dirty litter box, but not as bad as I'd have expected. Two doors stood open down a little hall; one was a bathroom and the toilet seat had indeed been left open, which meant the cats had plenty of water. A partially shredded jumbo-sized bag of dry food sat in a corner of the little kitchenette, kibble spilling out onto the floor.

There didn't seem to be anyone there, and thankfully no bloodshed and no body parts. There were, however two extremely fat felines, one brindle-colored fluff ball with long fur, the other a short-haired and absolutely huge black cat. Both sat smack in the middle of the overstuffed couch, purring loudly and staring at us expectantly.

The black one meowed again and Lil started crying. “Oh, Doodle… you're okay!” She threw herself down on the couch, scooping both cats up against her. They looked confused, but tolerated the embrace. Guess they missed her too. They did not, however, look like they'd missed any meals in the recent past.

“Dang, they're fat.” I shook my head, thinking of the poundage we were going to be hauling back to Big Red. “Will they both fit in one carrier?”

Lil nodded. “It's kinda big and they like being together.”

“Good.” Because I didn't think two carriers would fit in the cart and there's no way we could run through Zombie Town without at least one of us with our hands free to fight. “Let's get everything together and get out of here.”

Lil hesitated. “But my mom…”

Isn't here
, I almost said. But I didn't. Instead I put a hand on Lil's shoulder. “Let's check the rest of the apartment just in case.”

We did a careful reconnaissance of the rest of the apartment, which consisted of the bathroom and two bedrooms. The cats followed us from room to room, politely interested in our activity. Still no sign of Lil's mom.

“The shop,” said Lil firmly. “She could be hiding in the shop.”

I didn't try to tell her the logical place for her mom to hole up would be up here in the apartment with access to food and water. If it were my mom, I'd be grasping at straws too.

“Let's get all the cat supplies ready to go and the kids in the carrier and then we'll check the store. That way if anything … well, if anything goes wrong we'll be ready to run for it.”

Lil took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay.”

She retrieved a decent-sized carrier from the back of a closet and unceremoniously stuffed both cats inside, one after the other. Offended howls immediately began. “I know, babies,” she murmured, latching the carrier gate securely. “But you'll thank me for it later.”

“Or they'll pee on your bed,” I commented, my own experience with cats having left me a little cynical. “What else do we need?”

“Food and litter.” She dug into a kitchen cupboard, pulling out a large Tupperware container. “Can you dump some of the food in here while I get the litter?”

I took the container and filled it up with kibble from the gutted bag, then sealed the bag as best I could by rolling the top of it down until it covered the tear. Might as well bring it too since finding cat food on campus might be kind of tricky.

Lil, in the meantime, had dragged a bag of pine litter out from somewhere, along with an empty litter box and several small metal bowls. “We might as well have everything we need, right?”

I shrugged. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means in for a little, in for a lot. And that I come from a long line of cliché users.”

Lil snickered.

“You ready to go?”

Lil started to nod, then stopped. “One more thing.” She dashed off down the hallway and vanished into the front bedroom, re-emerging seconds later with a stuffed lamb that looked like it had done some serious baby and toddler duty. What had once been plush fur was now threadbare and nappy.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

“It's Lambiepie,” said Lil defensively. “He was my very first toy my parents ever gave me.”

“Just don't let Tony see it. You'll get a new nickname.”

Lil stuffed the lamb in the waistband of her pants, looking like she'd suddenly grown an oddly shaped tumor once she'd pulled her shirt down over it.

“Now I'm ready.”

Sheathing my sword, I grabbed the Tupperware, the bag of food, and the litter while Lil got the litter box and hefted the carrier.

“Good thing we've got the whole Wild Card accelerated strength thingy going for us,” I grunted, hefting the bag of litter onto one shoulder.

“No joke.” Lil listed to one side with the weight of the carrier. “You two have got to go on a diet, okay?”

Mournful howls answered her.

“They're worse than hungry zombies,” I said, then looked at her. “The howling … it's going to attract some attention, you know.”

“Maybe they won't pay attention because it's not people?” But she didn't sound like she believed it any more than I did.

“Will they stop after a while? This is also gonna kind of kill the whole stealthop thing.”

“Last time I took them to the vet's, they cried all the way there and all the way home,” Lil said glumly.

I nodded. “Okay, then. Let's just worry about getting back in one piece.” Howl. “All of us.”

Back downstairs, we put the carrier and its unhappy cargo in the shopping cart first, then packed litter, food, and pan in around it. Hopefully the padding would provide some protection against the kitties getting thrown around when we made our run for it. No way it was going to be a smooth journey back up to Big Red, and shopping carts weren't known for their shock absorption capabilities.

Then it was time to check the shop. I wasn't religious, but I gotta say I pretty much prayed that we didn't find Lil's mom, either dead or walking dead, inside. Better for Lil to have some hope right now than know for a fact she'd lost her mother for good.

“You got the key?” I asked unnecessarily since Lil already had a key out and inserted it into the deadbolt of the shop door. I just wanted to fill the silence with something other than thoughts of worst-case scenario. The deadbolt unlocked with a definitive clunk and Lil slowly cracked the door open an inch. “Mom?…”

We both listened carefully. The cats even paused their nonstop howling as if they knew what we were doing was important.

Hey, if the dead can walk the earth, I can anthropomorphize animals all I want, okay?