And This Too: A Modern Fable (4 page)

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Authors: Emily Owenn McIntyre

BOOK: And This Too: A Modern Fable
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All of noticed Harley and began opening and closing their mouths. As Harley backed away, the hollow, low moan began.

             
“Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.”

             
“Oh God,” Harley gasped as she sped back to her car.

             
The call of the undead had awakened more of them. A torso with a head came crawling out from under a Ford Taurus. Then the infected began oozing out of their cars. Harley was amazed by how many zombies can hide in an old Dodge van. They crawled out of windows that they had smashed open, hit the pavement and struggled to stand before pursuing the distressed damsel.

             
Harley dove through the open door of the Escalade. Locking herself in, she began to panic. The engine turned over with ease, as Harley instinctively put on her seatbelt while the walkers surrounded the vehicle. She took a deep breath and whispered, “I am strong. I am confident. I will overcome.”

             
Thankful for Christian’s gift of precious fossil fuel, Harley began running over the infected walkers. She wasn’t too worried about the poor souls that had already been cut in half.

             
One of the figures flew up onto the hood of her car. Harley began swerving to try and fling the bastard off, but his grip was too strong. Harley grabbed the handgun from the dashboard, cocked it and rolled her window down. She missed his brain, but the force was enough to push him off the hood. Her heart began playing a drum heavy tune as she continued to drive, satisfied with the zombie-sauce that she was stirring on the pavement. There were only a couple left standing, but they were no match for the grille of the luxury SUV. She would be out of range before they could follow her.

*****

              Harley didn’t cry. She couldn’t. She had to survive. That was what it all came down to, survival. She had to check her fear of the undead at the door and just kill as many as she had to.

             
“Jesus, Pix,” She muttered gently to her cat, “I just mercilessly terminated multiple families who had become victims to the flu strain as they were trying to flee their homes to avoid it.”

             
Pixel began cleaning himself.

             
Harley made a grunting noise. “I guess this is the beginning of the end, isn’t it Pix?”
              The cat looked at her with indifference and continued his bathing ritual.

             
Harley pulled off the interstate at a familiar exit. As she slowed her speed and began traveling the path that she had traveled countless times before, she prayed to the universe. Harley was terrified of what she would or wouldn’t find. She was very sure that it would be easy to be hopeful when you have your family living in the same town as you. But she had no idea what was going on in Derby.

             
Derby was a twenty-five minute drive from Sandy’s Beach. It wasn’t a town, just a place to live. The stores and hang-outs began with Derby Gas Station and ended with Derby Convenience Store. She wasn’t quite sure how her parents had gotten a house in the suburb, but they had lived there for the majority of Harley‘s life. All of her friends had been impressed by her house, simply because it was a Derby house.

             
As she drove down the quiet streets, she anticipated that a flock of the living dead would emerge and swallow up her car. Instead, she was greeted by emptiness.
All
the streets were deserted. None of the houses were boarded up; in fact, most of them were wide open, with shattered windows and belligerently battered doors. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Harley’s stomach. They were all gone. It hadn’t even been forty-eight hours, and they were all gone.

             
They evacuated to Sandy, she assumed, because Sandy held the promise of more reinforcements and supplies. She pulled up to 451 Ivana Street. The windows were dark and boarded over. The door was closed. Harley’s heart fluttered with a feeble hope.

             
They could still be alive.

             
When Harley reached the front door, with Pixel under her arm, she was almost afraid to knock. Perhaps the people inside weren’t hers, but someone else’s hiding out in the house she had grown up in. Or maybe it was to keep something in. Maybe the strain had reached them, and they had been boarded up because the other residents of Derby knew better. Maybe they had boarded themselves in, and even though the front was intact, the back part of the house was ravaged by an angry mob. Maybe they boarded it up and left it behind.

             
Harley raised her hand to knock when the door opened and a hand pulled her inside. The door was swiftly shut behind her, and she was enveloped in a hug.

             
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” A man’s voice uttered in the unlit foyer. “We watched you pull up, and I was so worried that you weren’t you. But you are. And you’re okay.”

             
Harley smelled her father‘s cologne and smiled. They
were
okay.             

Three

Somewhere in Nevada

              “Mom, what are we going to do?” Billy asked, curled up on the couch as his mom stroked his hair.

             
All the blinds were shut, the doors were locked and the lights were off. The soft afternoon sun filtered lightly into the room. Outside, a mob of unrelenting undead was moaning with hunger.

             
Nichole closed her eyes, pretending not to hear them coming for her and her thirteen year old son. She was certain that everyone she knew had either hunkered down or been eaten. She didn’t want to think about the fact that her neighbors had probably joined the ranks of those lusting for flesh.

             
“We’re going to stay here and wait,” She whispered quietly, “That’s all that we
can
do.”

             
Nichole began to think about her husband, Jim. Jim had been working at the casino when the gates of hell suddenly burst open and unleashed its demons upon the world. She knew in her heart that he was dead, possibly reanimated, but definitely dead.

             
“Mom, I think they’re coming this way,” Billy said nervously.

             
Nichole clutched the sliver cross that hung from her neck as she stood and crossed the room to peer out the window. Billy had been right. A good portion of the small town’s population was lumbering towards them. They were all incredibly ill, lips purple and chapped, and flesh tinted green with decay. Some of them had black gunk dripping from their mouths, others had chunks of skin, even muscle missing, and all of them had dull, lifeless eyes. Nichole shuddered, taking her hand away from the blinds.

             
“What’re we going to do?”

             
Nichole backed away. The chilling, “Nuuuuuuuuuugh,” of starving walkers began to penetrate the apartment’s thin walls. Billy hopped up from the couch and grabbed his mother by the arm. Nichole was in shock. Billy pulled her into the kitchen, wrenched open the door by the oven, and helped his mother descend the stairs to the communal laundry room. Nichole’s eyes lit up when they reached the landing.

             
Their neighbors, Juliet, Frederick and Johnny Robinson, were there, so were Ron, Meredith and Belle McKinley along with Jason Cooper. Nichole’s heart leapt with joy. There was still hope. Juliet greeted Nichole with a hug, which shattered their facade of strength and made them sob together.

             
Billy sat down by Jason who was staring at Ron McKinley.

             
“What’s up?” Billy asked, desperately hoping that his mother would stop crying.

             
Jason pointed at Mr. McKinley, “Look,” he whispered, “He’s sweating like a cold can of beer, and he’s shaking. Nervous.”

             
“Dude, I’m nervous too.” Billy replied quietly.

             
“Nah man, he’s got
it
.”

             

It
?”

             
“The disease that turns you into an eater.”

             
“An eater?”

             
“A zombie.”

             
“No…no way.”

             
Meredith McKinley sat down next to her husband and began rubbing his back. He wished she wouldn’t, it was hard to hide a wound while people were leering in his direction. The ill man tried not to glower at the two punks who were sitting across from him.

             
“Honey,” Meredith asked delicately, “You don’t look so good, are you feeling okay?”

             
“I’m just fine dear,” he snapped in a low tone.

             
Meredith turned her attention to their toddler, who was sitting in the middle of the room playing with her favorite teddy bear. Juliet and Nichole had calmed down and were trying to figure out how to survive the ensuing nightmare. Frederick was snoozing up against a wall, with his son Johnny sitting next to him, absorbed by his GameMaster.

             
Ron stood, steadied himself with the wall and barfed uncontrollably. Panic settled upon the small room as hellish sludge splattered on the cement floor. Belle McKinley began wailing from the middle of the room. Meredith put a consoling hand on her husband’s back.             

             
“Ron.
Ron
?” stammered the hysterical woman.

             
Juliet and Nichole were rendered speechless. The commotion had startled Frederick from his sleep, so he began shielding his son from the chaos.

             
“Ron?” Meredith asked again as the man ceased retching.

             
Ron turned to glare at his wife, growling slightly.

“Ro-”

              Mr. McKinley grabbed at his wife, his fingernails digging deep into her skin.

             
“Told ya,” Jason said, standing up and pulling a hand gun from his hoodie pocket.

             
Billy watched in awe as Jason aimed and fired. The bullet hit Ron in the side, making Meredith scream louder. Ron released his grip on his wife and began making his way towards Jason. Meredith ran to her child, whisked her off the floor and scuttled to the stairs as Jason continued to shoot at Mr. McKinley, steadily missing the kill zone.

             
Mrs. McKinley was bleeding profusely from the nail marks Ron had left on her arm. At the stairs Nichole reached for the toddler.

             
“Meredith, give Belle to me.”

             
Meredith’s eyes grew wide with shock. She frantically shook her head, backing up the staircase.

             
“Meredith, give me the baby.”

             
“No!”

             
“Meredith…”

             
“No!”

             
Meredith slipped and fell backwards. Nichole grabbed Belle from the falling woman’s arms.

             
Frederick crossed the room, took the gun from the college drop-out and shot Ron in the face. His melted brains splattered to the floor.

             

Ron!
” Meredith screamed as her husband’s dead body collapsed to the cement.

             
“That wasn’t your husband, Meredith,” Juliet said, offering her a hand.

             
Meredith took her neighbor's hand aggressively and pulled herself up. The enraged woman spat in her Juliet's face, getting some saliva and blood in Juliet’s eye.

             
“You
bitch
! Your husband is a murderer!” Meredith shrieked before turning to Nichole. “Give me my baby.”

             
“No.”

             
Meredith began to sweat and shake. The blood trickling from her wounds began to slow; the area around the nail marks was brown and infected.

             
“Jesus,” Jason muttered, watching the end of his life unfold.

             
“Give me my baby,” She demanded, as blood stained tears began to trickle down her graying face.

             
Nichole shook her head defiantly, cradling the crying and confused youth.

             
That’s when Meredith McKinley turned. Her eyes fluttered and she nearly lost her footing when her knees buckled a little, but before Meredith could fall, she stood straight up. Black flecks of spit flew from her mouth as she let out a vicious screech. Nichole passed the baby to Juliet just as Meredith bit a chunk out of Nichole's arm. The shocked woman attempted to scream but no sound was willing to escape her throat.

             

Mom
!”

             
Juliet jogged to her husband, baby still in tow, while Meredith turned her glazed over gaze to Billy, and Nichole ogled her wound.

             
“Take Belle and get out of here,” Juliet breathed, tears pooling in her eyes.

             
“Juliet?”

             
“Meredith spat infected blood in my eye; I’m going to become a walker too.”

             
Nichole latched onto Meredith’s hair to buy her son some time. Meredith howled and turned to face her attacker. Nichole fled towards the stairs that led to her apartment. Frederick took the baby as Jason grabbed Billy’s arm and Billy cried out for his mom. Johnny was still trying to concentrate on his GameMaster.

             
“You have to shoot me,” Juliet whispered, letting bloody tears fall down her cheeks.

             
Frederick shook his head as Juliet nodded.

             
“You have to Fredrick.”

             
Fredrick took a deep breath, nodded knowingly and pressed the muzzle of Jason's gun up against his own wife's forehead.

             
Johnny caught a glimpse of what was going on and gasped, “Mom?”
              Without making eye contact, Juliet murmured, “I love you Johnny, my dear monkey. Look away. Just remember that Mommy loves you.”

             
“I love you,” Fredrick whispered, holding Belle as close to him as he could, trying to cover the child's ears and shield her face.

             
“I know, I love you too.” Juliet replied.

             
Fredrick used the last bullet to execute his wife. Billy began to scream.

             
“Run!” Nichole shouted, "Please get out of here!" The woman was trying to subdue Meredith and her own infection simultaneously. "GO!"

             
The five survivors hesitantly fled up a flight of stairs. With an infant in one arm and the basement scene in his head, Fredrick made sure to lock his door behind him, but to the group's dismay, his apartment was already being infiltrated by the rampant limbs of the zombies outside. It was only a matter of time.

*****

              Martin’s house was lit by lamps. He noticed his daughter look skeptically around the scene as she sat her black cat on the floor.

             
“Derby has its own grid, and no one's taken out a power line yet,” Martin explained.

             
Fehny was crocheting on the couch. Harley snuck up behind her and gave the woman a huge bear-hug.

             
“Harley baby,” Fehny squealed, putting down the blanket that she was crafting, “I’m very glad you’re safe.”

             
“I’m glad that you guys are okay too,” Harley replied.

             
She let go of her step-mother and stepped over the back of the couch, lavishing in the near normality of the reunion. Fehny Monroe was Harley’s Japanese mother. The girl had never known her bio-mom because as soon as the hospital released the flighty woman, she disappeared. Martin never knew what became of the beautiful, mixed Sioux woman, but he was relieved that they never married. Martin hadn’t wanted to make a mom out of the twenty-something exchange student, but they had known each other since their freshman year of college, plus they were perfect for each other. The two got married when Harley was three, and the girl accepted Fehny as her mother without reluctance.

             
Martin sat in his arm chair before inquiring. “Where’d you get the car?”              

             
“Uhm…I stole it. I didn’t
jack
it from anybody or anything. It was completely abandoned.”

             
Martin chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

             
“I can’t stay long. Only a night or two,” Harley added, looking at her feet. “I wanna go see Allie.”

             
Allie DuBois was one of Fehny's friends from college. Harley had bonded with Allie's nephew when they were young and so Allie and her nephews were practically part of the Monroe family.

             
Fehny sighed and Martin rolled his eyes. “I figured as much,” he replied with a smirk on his lips.

             
“I won’t stay in Sandy; I just want to go make sure they’re alright.”

             
“I wish we knew how Trevor and Tsgumi are.”

             
Harley didn’t want to think about that. They had been away at college when disaster struck and all those possible recipients of the strain didn’t make for likely chances of survival.

             
“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Fehny asked, continuing to crochet.

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