Dahmer Flu (22 page)

“You sure?” She asked.

“There’s all sorts of crap lying around. I’ll grab something.”

As I began to slip out the back door, Madi caught me by the arm. “I love you,” she said with warning in her voice. What she really meant was,
be careful.

“I love you, too,” I answered. “I’ll be right back.” What I really meant was,
I will.
Lisa and I locked eyes for a brief moment before I closed the door and heard it latch behind me. I was alone, unarmed and terrified. Grocery shopping was much more complicated than I remembered it to be.

Aside from the horrifying apocalypse that had ripped the life from this town, Ashland must have been a beautiful place to live. Each of the bright, cheerful homes stood in ironic juxtaposition against the disrepair, overgrowth and boarded windows, and the street names conjured pleasant images of flowers and landmarks. I strained each of my senses as I passed Parkview Court. An empty baby carriage lay overturned and still on the corner at Rosebush Avenue, a small stuffed bear barely recognizable under the cloth. I reached the end of the road and turned onto Peachtree Street. The home just past the corner had been nearly completely destroyed, only the burnt skeleton of the frame standing in its place. A car remained in the driveway, but had been intentionally destroyed; all of the windows had been smashed in and glass still sparkled in the driveway, the tires dejectedly holding up the frame. The body had been brutally dented and scratched by something long-gone, and rocks still littered the concrete and hood. A single word was scratched in the paint in large jagged letters: “Guilty”. I didn’t want to know that story.

I continued through the town, making sure to walk each street and gain an overall view of the area. Before I started going into homes, I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be surprised when I came out. The precision dissonance of another home grabbed my attention. A large lumber panel was still partially nailed to one side of the doorframe, but had been forced violently outwards and to the right, tearing the wood and bending the remaining nails; now, it waved lazily in the slight breeze. A crowbar was barely visible in the long grass and a dark stain had discolored the walkway. It appeared that someone, much like me perhaps, had tried to get inside, finding that whatever had been inside was already waiting to get out. I hoped the person had died quickly, but I appreciated the crowbar all the same; at least now I was armed again.

Before long, I had circled and crossed the entire small town, noting and remembering the locations of drug stores and grocery chains, identifying which homes were boarded and which were not, and mentally marking the homes and businesses that I wanted to search later. Several homes had broken windows- I wondered who had been here before me. The small town had small ‘Pawn and Gun’ store; I knew without having to go inside that it would do me no good, and looking in the shattered windows confirmed it. The store was in devastated; the glass displays had been smashed, she shelves were bare- except for a small amount of useless items- and the gun racks themselves were empty.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving. I turned and saw a man, what was left of him, slowly and silently shambling towards where I stood. He was slow, but determined, dragging his ruined leg right behind him. I was repulsed by this pitiful creature when I noticed that his foot folded sickeningly to the side with each step, leaving his ankle bone alone to support his weight. As he got closer, his mouth opened as if to scream, but no sound came. He was pitiful but determined, so I took a batters stance with the crowbar while I waited for the slow pitch to arrive. I waited, he shuffled closer. I waited, he was almost upon me. When he was just close enough, I swung the heavy metal bar and connected to the man’s skull; it sunk in to the soft skin of his temple and the bone shattered with the collision as he soared to the side, falling to the ground in a writing heap. His eyes stayed open, but the pupils were rolled upwards into the sockets as they began to fill with blood. My hands ached, but at least the creature was down.

I watched, making sure he didn’t move. I prodded him with the crowbar, he was still. The creature was, once again, dead.

I finished picking my way through town and turned onto the intersecting street from where I started. I noticed something that I hadn’t seen before; the grave of an old playground sat overgrown and lonely, the perfect monument to what the world had become and what we had lost. The equipment itself was fairly clean, although significantly rusted, and weeds had grown through the black rubber mulch to intertwine with the metal, forming a bizarre fusion of living steel. Where children once played, now empty swings swung with the breeze. A tall slide stood proud, but unused, as if watching over its metal herd.

With one last look around, I believed that Ashland was, as much as I could tell, safe.

I chose a home a few blocks away from where we were staying; the paranoia in me didn’t want to make it
too
obvious where we were. The home was modest- it was small enough to be easy to search, but large enough to hold hope for something of value. Most importantly, the windows and doors hadn’t been barricaded, as if the owners had intended to return. And if they had intended to return, then they were more likely to have left something useful behind.

I was growing more comfortable with being in other people’s homes, and had learned a few tricks since it all began. I circled the house, looking in each of the windows, and mentally marking which ones had drawn curtains- I’d have to be careful of those rooms once inside. The back door was locked, as I expected, and so was the front.

I knocked.

Nothing moved and there were no sounds from inside. If anyone, living or undead, were inside, I’d rather know about it before I went in. I knocked again, louder; still, nothing moved.

I had seen the master bedroom towards the rear of the house; it had large, welcoming bay windows that drew vertically and were latched with a cheap brass-colored hasp. At least I wouldn’t have to break the glass and risk injury. I jammed the crowbar’s blade between the sill and the window, and laid my weight on it until I felt the wood begin to crack, then the lock pop out of place. The window slid open easily and I climbed inside.

I looked into each of the rooms that had the curtains closed and confirmed that I was alone, and then pulled a pillow case from what appeared to be a teenage boy’s bed, or so I assumed from the barely tasteful posters taped to the wall. I wasn’t proud of the fact that I had begun to enjoy the voyeuristic thrill of searching through a stranger’s home.

I practically destroyed the interior in my careless search, but no more than I had to; this was still more of a profession than a hobby, and I had time concerns on my mind. I ransacked the drawers and dug through the contents, pulling anything that appeared to be of use, taking the batteries from the remote controls and other electronics, and bundling blankets and pillows into a separate package- these ones seemed slightly cleaner than the other home; at least less rodent-infested. The bathrooms provided some of the creature comforts; the soap would do us good if the river was clean, and Lisa would appreciate the pink razor with a sealed blade stuck in the base.

The kitchen gave less than I had hoped for, but more than I expected. There wasn’t quite enough to move on from the town, but at least we’d have dinner tonight; two bottles of water to share between us, some stale nacho chips, a jar of peanut butter and an assortment of the canned goods that you find at a food drive. The owners either didn’t want the taste or the weight, maybe thinking they’d leave it for when they returned. Fortunately, they also had a manual can opener, which I took as well. Searching through the cabinets and drawers, I chose a selection of bowls and silverware for later.

I closed the window best I could on my way out, and made the short walk back to the rear of our new safe-house. Three knocks, then one, then two- we agreed on a new signal each time, just so no one could copy it. One of the girls inside answered; two knocks, then one, then three- all was well. I heard the lock release and the door opened for me to slip inside, after which it closed again. They were happy to see me, which was a welcome feeling; almost like… family. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed that they had each changed clothes; both of them looked too small for what they now wore.

“Come look!” Madi said excitedly, and took me by the hand to lead me upstairs. Lisa followed after making sure the door was secure- priorities. “Okay, Daddy, now close your eyes,” Madi directed once we reached the door to the master bedroom. I closed them tightly, and heard the door open. Madi pulled me inside and said, “Okay, open your eyes!”

I opened my eyes, and saw that the girls had been busy, too. The bedroom had been cleaned, and was lit by a few large candles.

Lisa explained, “We went exploring around the house while you were gone. There was some cleaning junk in the garage, and we found the candles here in this room, in one of the drawers. We left the handcuffs and the lingerie alone, though.” Madi was oblivious to the significance of the pairing. “There was some bedding in the closet, clean enough to sleep on, so we made the bed up, too.” She smiled, seeing that I had brought some for the same reason that she had. “At least we have extra, better than not enough.”

“Wow,” was all I could come up with. The room looked great, almost like a real home. I struggled to come up with the words. “It looks… cozy; it’s great,” I said finally. Lisa and Madi swapped satisfied smiles, then light high-fives.

We were all exhausted from the long night, and from the painful events of the recent past. Lisa laid out the food on the sheet from my bundle, as if we were having a picnic, just without the grass, sunshine or feeling of certainty that we wouldn’t die the next day. She handed Madi one of the two bottles of water and kept the other between us. Madi must have been thirsty for some time- she drank half of her bottle right away, before starting on the food that was put in front of her. She had clearly been hungry and thirsty, yet she hadn’t complained.

We ate until the hunger pangs were gone, enjoying our peanut butter nachos and canned pie filling. If nothing else, at least our stomachs wouldn’t grumble for a little while. The candles cast vague shadows around the room, which was somehow more menacing than the darkness, and we talked to pass the time.

That night we invented a game, something to entertain and take our minds of the horrible realities outside of these walls. But inside, I was losing, although I didn’t understand how.

“Ummm… Cupcake?” I guessed.

“No!” Madi giggled.

“Princess?”  Madi shook her head, smiling.

“Snowflake?”

“Nope!” Madi said.

Lisa interrupted, “Time!”

Madi laughed, “The pony’s name will be Firefly!”

We laughed together- it felt good. The rules made no sense, and the score was completely arbitrary, which seemed about right for a game created by a young girl. But, we played it and enjoyed each other’s company, making up the rules and questions along the way, until Madi started to bob her head as she struggled heroically to stay awake.

“How about we call it a night,” I suggested. “You won anyways,” I told Madi. She smiled at the victory.

“You did pretty good, too,” Madi consoled.

Lisa helped Madi to her feet and they walked together to the bed, with me coming up behind them after snuffing all but one of the thickest candles. “There’s enough room for all three of us,” Lisa suggested and we settled in with Madi between us. It was tight, but the soft bed was a rare treat, although I imagined that there were surely spiders near the headboard that would soon find their way under the covers- it was a phobia that I hadn’t yet gotten over. We said our good-nights and then settled into our own thoughts, as always hoping that sleep came quickly.

“Daddy?” Madi whispered.

“What, honey?”

“I don’t really like it here, I’m scared.”

Lisa answered and Madi turned towards her, “Madi, your daddy loves you a lot, and he’s going to keep you safe. He’s going to keep us both safe; nothing’s going to happen to any of us, okay? I feel safe, you should, too.”

“Okay,” Madi answered, settling in to sleep once again. “Good.”

I was impressed- Lisa was a better liar than I was.

Tonight was a night for nightmares; horrifying and random images of blood, teeth and screaming victims. Surreal scenes of endless waves of shambling corpses filling the streets, dragging families screaming into the streets… In my dreams, the creatures couldn’t be killed, but I could. And it happened over and over again until I woke.

When I did, it was with a gasp; I was drenched in sweat and my heart was pounding. Madi was safe. Lisa was safe. I was safe. I quietly pulled myself out of bed and tiptoed to the window; pulling the thick curtains to the side and peering through the cracks, I could see that the sky was begging to lighten, although the sun hadn’t yet started to rise. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep again, so I sat and waited, lost in my thoughts and trying to come up with a better plan than the one I had currently- stay here for a little while, then keep going north. I had to admit, it wasn’t much.

The bedsprings creaked, pulling me from my private thoughts. Lisa sat up quickly and looked around, checking for Madi, then for me, but I wasn’t there. She had probably had a nightmare as well.

“Lisa, I’m over here,” I whispered.