Decay: A Zombie Story (19 page)

“I went to check his pulse. I couldn’t find one…” he said, “Then… then he just…I don’t know, he grabbed onto me and bit my friggin’ arm.”

He wrapped up his arm while Linda tried 9-1-1 once more. After a moment, Linda once again hung up the phone and shook her head. Rich kept pressure on his arm and started walking away from the register.

“I’m not feeling so hot,” he said. “I’m gonna, uh, go sit over here for a bit.”

Linda and I looked at each other worriedly for a moment as Rich stumbled over to a line of wooden benches set up along the wall.

We both looked up when the sick customer came fumbling around the last aisle. He was moaning and basically walking on one leg while dragging the other behind him.

“Oh my word,” Linda said.

“Rich,” I said, “What should we do?” As I looked to him for an answer, he seemed dizzy as he began tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

I looked to the man and said, “Sir, please take it easy.” He didn’t acknowledge me. Rather, he kept coming in our direction. “Sir!” I called out again. “Please calm down. Have a seat.” Again, it was to no avail, he kept walking our way. Linda stepped out from the register and approached the man.

“Okay sir,” she said calmly. “Please come over here and sit down. Help is on the way.”

She walked right up to him and reached out to grab his arm and assist him over to the benches. As she reached out, he intercepted her and grabbed her arm, then lunged at her, making a sound I can only describe as a muted roar. He sank his teeth into her arm.

I looked to Rich and saw that he was still out of it, so I grabbed a Hostess display stand by the register and approached the customer, whacking him over the head with it.

He didn’t acknowledge me, so I took the bottom of the stand and pushed it into his side, rolling him off Linda. She lay on the floor, crying as the man struggled to get to his feet.

I reached out my hand to help Linda up, but she refused.

At this point, the man was up and he looked directly at me. He slowly began to approach me, nearly stepping on Linda in the process. I grasped the snack display tightly and backed away from him.

He reached out his arms and came towards me. I swung the snack stand and hit him in the face. He fell backwards and tripped over Linda. I pulled her out from under him as he rolled around on the floor.

“Damn it,” I said. I let go of her hand and rushed to the register. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I grabbed the monitor. I unplugged it and picked it up, the wires hanging beneath it like muscles and tendons from a decapitated head. Holding the monitor, I looked down at the man gnawing on poor Linda’s leg, closed my eyes, and brought the screen down on him.

The screen smashed over his skull and his body suddenly went limp. I opened my eyes and tears began to well up as I looked at his lifeless carcass. I’d just killed a man! Linda’s breathing had slowed noticeably as her gushing blood created a pool around her.

Though in shock myself from what I’d done, I mentally realized Linda might have had an artery or important vein severed when the man bit her.

“Rich, we need to get her some help,” I said as I looked over to him. He was gone. I had no idea where but he was not on the bench anymore. I noticed a trail of blood leading away.

“Rich?” I called, looking around the store front.

Then I heard something—a mumble or moan or some kind. At this point, I turned around and saw him; Rich, standing a few feet away from me with a blank expression on his face—similar to that of the now dead customer.

“Rich, please, we need to get you some help,” I said desperately.

He grunted back at me as he threw up his arms and made his way toward me. This time, I decided to run and dashed for the doors.

He came after me slowly but steadily. I continued trying to reason with him, but it didn’t seem like he was aware of his surroundings. He just wanted to get to me for some reason.

I got to the doors and looked outside to see that night had fallen. The parking lot lights illuminated a number of people off in the distance. I couldn’t go out there, for all I knew, they were freaking out just like Rich and the customer. I watched for a moment, forgetting about Rich coming up behind me. Suddenly, he roared and lunged at me, wrapping his arms around my body and sinking his teeth into my shoulder.

I screamed as the flesh was torn from my body, and my shoulder felt warm as blood seeped into my shirt.

I spun around, throwing him into the glass doors. His bite released and I backed away from him.

My blood dripped from his rabid-looking mouth and he gnashed his teeth in my direction. It was disgusting; something was definitely wrong with him.

I kept backing up until I reached a line of shopping carts along the wall. I grabbed one and ran it towards him—sandwiching him between the cart and the doors.

As he stumbled backwards and outside through the door, he fell down. I took this moment and grabbed more shopping carts. I backed them into the entrance and exit doors.

He got up and began pounding on the glass. I could see the other figures off in the distance coming this way as well.

I continued grabbing carts and created a barricade against the door so no one else could get in.

While doing so, my blood spilled all over them. He’d taken a good clean chunk out of me and I began feeling a little dizzy. I struggled to get the carts up against the doors before I would retreat back to the registers to check on Linda.

After a few moments, I did just that. However, when I got to the registers, I found a pool of blood, the deceased customer, but no Linda. She was nowhere to be found.

I tried to call out to her but couldn’t find my voice. The store’s surroundings got blurry and…

JOEY

I
was surrounded. I was only blocks away from getting to Georgio’s, but there was no way I could get through the crowd. I took off, leaving my car and accidentally dropping my cell phone. This virus was completely out of control and I didn’t want to get near anyone infected with it.

So I ran. I just kept running, not sure where to go.

Hours passed and I found myself hiding out near a gas station. I was in the alleyway, crouching behind a dumpster, as sick people moved around me. Some guys on motorcycles even drove by, shooting at them. I saw at least three people get shot. I couldn’t believe it. I realized that I didn’t want to be found by anyone right now—not the sick people, and not the bikers.

After they’d passed by and the area was relatively deserted, I tried my best to scope out the gas station without being spotted by anyone.

Tara kept crossing my mind, and I prayed that she stayed put. I had every intention of getting over to the restaurant despite my current detour. As I snuck out of the alley, I noticed someone nearby.

I had no way of knowing if this person was healthy or even if they were sane, but it seemed like my best chance. So, I started heading out of the alley.

All of a sudden, I ran right into a sick person. We fell to the ground and she rolled on top of me.

“Oh gosh,” I said, “I’m so sorry.”

She made a gurgling sound, opened her mouth wide, and leaned forward to bite my neck. I wasn’t sure what her intentions were, but I didn’t want to find out, so I pushed her off me. Then, I got to my feet as she did the same.

“Take it easy,” I said.

She looked at me with vacant eyes and curled her discolored lips over her teeth, moaning at me.

Then, a loud bang came from behind me and her head exploded! I nearly fell at the sound of the shot. I looked behind me and saw an Indian (from India not the other kind) man in a gas station uniform holding a shotgun.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get inside before more show up!”

I followed the man into the gas station, shocked at what I had just witnessed.

This man had just blown someone’s head clean off. I was in shock, but the gravity of the situation was slowly sinking in as I followed him without question.

“Get away from the door,” he said and locked it behind us.

I moved to the back of the store. He approached me, holding the shotgun in one hand and looking for a handshake with the other, “I’m Hamin,” he said.

Reluctantly, I shook his hand, “Joey. Nice to meet you.”

He nodded and put the gun down. Most of the lights were off in the store and he simply sat down behind the counter. “Don’t move around too much,” he said.

H
amin didn’t tell me much. He just explained what he knew; the infection spreads through the blood—bites or scratches, and the only way to take down an infected person was to destroy the brain. I felt like I was taking part in some sort of new reality TV show—none of it seemed like it could be real.

He told me I should at least wait until morning to head out. That he would give me a car to use from his garage. So I waited with him. We didn’t talk much after that. We each spent some time reading magazines and keeping an eye on what was happening outside.

He had a radio so we listed to that too. People stumbled by in groups of three or four for the most part. Every now and then, we noticed one person alone coming down the street. One man came into the gas station parking lot and walked over the bell cord.

When the bell went off, the man went crazy. He started looking around and kind of shouting to himself. In his confusion, he stepped on the bell two more times. It was almost funny to see him so confused, but it was also tough to watch. I couldn’t comprehend a human acting so primitively.

“I might have to get rid of him,” Hamin said. “Before he brings more here.”

Ding
.
Ding.

The confused man stepped on the bell a couple more times.

“Okay, stay by the door,” Hamin ordered before he went outside.

I held the door closed as he slowly approached the man outside. He looked back at me and then raised his shotgun. Quickly and swiftly, he pulled the trigger and blasted a hole through the diseased man’s skull. The corpse fell to the ground.

Ding.

It landed directly on the cord. Hamin inspected the corpse for a moment before turning back to me. As he turned around, he spotted three other infected people moving toward him.

Hamin moved towards them at an awkward angle. After a moment, I realized he was drawing them away from the gas pumps. Given our current predicament, I could understand him not wanting to deal with a massive explosion.

The number of infected grew by a few more as a handful of them continued coming into the gas station’s parking lot. I couldn’t make out exactly what Hamin was saying, but I thought I heard him say something along the lines of, “I should’ve brought more shells!”

I glanced around to see if there was a box of shells somewhere, but I didn’t see any. So I stayed at the door, not knowing what else to do.

Hamin continued to move swiftly around the gas pumps, baiting the people and getting them to go where he wanted. He was good at it, and it made me wonder a little bit about his past.

Soon, he was able to get them together and he took his first shot at the group. He shot two of them in the head and both bodies fell to the ground, limp. Needless to say, I was impressed.

Then he started to run back to me. He stopped by the air pump off to the side and pulled a couple of shells from his pocket and reloaded the shotgun. I turned away and watched as four more infected moved past the pumps, closer to Hamin and me.

His shotgun went off again and it startled me. I turned back to him and saw him stumbling backwards as another sick person he hadn’t seen moved toward him. This one must’ve snuck up on Hamin.

He fired a shot and hit the infected man right between the eyes.

“Shit!” he yelled as he turned back toward me. His arm was bleeding and it appeared he’d been bitten or scratched. He ran to the door and tossed the shotgun on the ground. I went to open the door but he said, “I’m out of shells and I’m bit. Keep it shut until they’re gone!”

He ran past the door and starting shouting to the infected people. “Hey! Come on! Over here, I’ve got something for you! It’s dinner time!”