Decay: A Zombie Story (2 page)

Jen was pretty paranoid about robbers and home invasions, thanks to watching way too many crime shows. I explained to her that we lived in one of the safest towns in the state and I would get the window fixed on Monday. She angrily accepted this and we walked to the pizza place.

The streets were pretty quiet despite it being rush hour. Upon arriving at the pizza joint, we discovered it was pretty quiet in there as well. The guys working looked pretty bored; they barely noticed when we entered. They were all just standing around watching TV. I didn’t mind too much, but Jen was getting frustrated that they didn’t acknowledge us. So, after politely getting their attention, we got the pizzas and let them get back to the television.

We left the restaurant and headed back to my house. The streets were still quiet for the most part. Suddenly, we heard a loud screech, and turned around to see a gold station wagon, nearly on two wheels turning onto my street. I threw up my hands as the jerk blew past us, shattering the speed limit for sure. “What the hell is his problem?” I yelled.

“Hopefully he’ll get a ticket,” Jen said. “There are kids in this area, that’s so dangerous!”

A little after we returned to my house, a bright red convertible pulled into my driveway; Robbie was driving with his girlfriend—Jen’s best friend, Samantha, or Sam. Robbie and I have been friends since we were kids. Jen and I recently introduced him to Sam, something Jen wasn’t too thrilled about in the beginning, since Sam had a difficult upbringing and Robbie always had a drinking problem. Sam’s parents died years ago, leaving her to live with her father’s single brother, who from what I understand is something of an alcoholic himself. Needless to say, these circumstances have led Jen to be a bit weary of the idea of Robbie being in Sam’s life. But to her chagrin, they hit it off and have been together for months now. Robbie also cut down on his drinking habits; something I’ve been hoping would happen since we began college in ‘05.

Robbie brought over
The Departed
for us to watch; he can’t seem to get enough of this movie.

After we finished discussing the wannabe NASCAR driver, we decided to head inside, have some dinner, and watch the movie. I got myself and Jen some beers from the fridge. Sam doesn’t drink for obvious reasons, and Robbie turned down the offer altogether. But the only reason he turned down the offer was because he was hitting his own bottle hard, one he kept hidden in the cargo pocket of his jacket. I was a little worried about him drinking but he didn’t seem like he was intending to get drunk, but rather was just maintaining a good buzz.

JEN

T
he night had been going rather smoothly. Good pizza, good friends, and a decent movie. I’d never seen it before, not bad for the most part. I guess it’s ideal for the filmmaker-type-of-viewer, but I was just stuck on the over-exaggerated Boston accents.

However, the seemingly chill night soon became one of tremendous drama. Robbie began swigging down whatever hard liquor was in his secret stash. Soon, Sam told him to stop—or at least slow down, but rather than slow down, he nearly finished the bottle within minutes. He proceeded to get up and start dancing around like something out of Saturday Night Fever.

Next, almost as if his horseplay were scripted, he played the part of a true jackass, and while trying to pull Sam off the couch, he knocked over Pete’s mom’s favorite lamp, where it then smashed apart on the floor.

Utterly ridiculous! At this point, Pete came running in from the kitchen, where he was cleaning things up.

“What the hell happened?” he screamed as Fido began barking like mad.

“Robbie’s drunk,” a frightened Sam said, as she had never truly witnessed the drunken mess we know and fear. Further, despite all of this chaos, Robbie continued trying to get Sam to dance with him as he stomped the pieces of broken glass into the low weave carpet.

ROBBIE

E
veryone’s got their issues and vices in life. I like to drink, get drunk, and have a good time. Then, my
friends
try to tell me I’m an alcoholic—fuck that! I’m a college student, well, sort of. I probably won’t go back in the fall.

My father owns a chain of hardware stores throughout New England known as ‘Fix-It Hardware.’ I have an assistant manager position at the original store not far from our neighborhood. I’ve recently made the decision that I’ll take on his duties in the next five or so years when he throws in the towel.

Next, he continued yelling and cussing into the phone which I’m sure needed some kind of ‘drain-O’ after the amount of saliva it’d surely just absorbed thanks to the greatest spit-yeller since wrestling legend Sgt. Slaughter.

So, knowing I wasn’t going anywhere until the A.M., I kept my drink on and apparently got a little too rowdy. Broke a lamp, I think. Pete and Jen were yelling—hurting my head. And Sam, my girlfriend, she started crying and wouldn’t even look at me.

Soon, Pete got fed up with me and brought me outside. He took my keys and told me to get some air and try to sober up a little. After Pete left me outside to stew over my mistakes, some dude in a business suit started stumbling towards me. This guy was definitely wasted or something, mumbling and stumbling all over the place.

I waved him down just to make sure he was all right, because he was making me look like I was blowing a .07 in comparison. Finally, the drunkard made his way down Pete’s driveway. As he got closer and into the light, I noticed he looked like he’d been in an accident— he was covered in blood. Needless to say, this helped my sobering up.

“You all right, man?” I asked, standing up from the ground in shame. He continued groaning and mumbling until he reached out and grabbed me with his cold and bloody mitts. Then, I don’t know what happened, but his wrinkly, dried-up lips curled around his bloody white teeth and the guy bit me on the neck!

TARA

I
arrived at work around 4:30 in the afternoon. The Georgio’s Pizza employee parking lot seemed unusually empty. On a Friday that’s often a very bad sign. My co-workers probably found some party or event to attend together, leaving me to cover on the busiest night of the week.

As I entered through the back of the building, my phone beeped. My boyfriend sent me a text message: Hey sweetie, don’t forget to ask about your birthday. 3 p.m.

I stopped and began messaging him back, but before I could type one word, my boss came storming around the corner.

“Thank God, Tara!” my boss, Paul, shouted at the sight of me. “Claire and Alice both called in sick and we’ve got a full house out there!”

So, the customers had been waiting extra-long with nothing to keep them entertained in the meantime. Thinking about what I was walking into, I realized my tips would be extra-frugal tonight.

I put my things in a locker and started putting on my apron. I then realized I never got back to my boyfriend. Therefore, I decided to keep my phone in my apron pocket.

I could almost feel his blood pressure rising from a room away. So, I decided to do what I could and just get out there and help some hungry people.

“Start with Table 28!” Paul shouted to me, as I began walking away.

PETER

“
P
ete! Help! Help! Peter! Samantha! Someone!”

The yelling came from outside. Robbie was in some kind of trouble it seemed, but knowing his state of mind, he could be running from a daddy-long-leg, or even his own shadow. Nonetheless, I immediately went out there to see. What I came across would become ingrained in my brain forever.

A decrepit businessman had tackled Robbie on the steps. Blood was everywhere. The haggard man lashed at Robbie, snapping his teeth like some kind of pissed-off rabid animal. As soon as I got out there, Robbie jabbed his attacker with a hard right to the jaw. Teeth flew from the man’s mouth and Robbie struggled to his feet as blood gushed from the side of his neck.

The sickly man struggled to get back on his feet and back to us for whatever reason. I pushed Robbie towards the door to get him inside. Then, I pushed the man back further away from the house. As I turned to follow Robbie back inside, someone grabbed me by the shoulder. Startled nearly to death, I tripped over myself and fell to the ground. This other person, an older man, possibly homeless, grabbed at my feet and—I think—bit into my shoe, though I didn’t really feel anything through the rugged leather. Then I gave him a further taste as I booted him away from me. Robbie and I got to the door and created a somewhat safe distance from these people.

I looked down the street and saw a few more people stumbling in our general direction. I began wondering exactly what the hell was going on. Then, as I was about to open the door, I looked at Robbie. His eyes were rolling back into his head, and he began coughing up blood and losing his balance. Within a flash of a second, he fell over the porch railing and seemed to stop breathing. At the same time, the drunk - sick, or whatever people, crowded onto the front lawn.

Next, Robbie began moving around. Relieved and confused, I grabbed him by the arm and told him we had to get inside. He shook his head and began mumbling incoherently. After a second, he lifted his head and lunged at me. His eyes, they looked different now, not like Robbie’s normal eyes, more like something dead or missing, something bloody and dangerous. While lunging at me, he snapped his teeth and bit the collar of my polo shirt. I pushed him away like I had the other people. His neck wound appeared to have stopped bleeding and the blood was no longer gushing from his mouth. But it was his eyes. I could see Robbie wasn’t in there anymore, and what remained was nothing but hunger. I shoved him away from me, ran inside, and locked the door behind me.

Jen and Sam stared at me and my blood-spattered clothing. Before I could tell them what had happened to Robbie and the crazy people outside, I saw that the news was on the television, and they seemed somewhat hypnotized by the broadcast. I looked on as one of the less recognized anchors sat there with a blank look on his face, reporting what sounded more like an excerpt from a Stephen King novel or the movie-of-the-week.

“For those just tuning in, an epidemic has swept the entire East coast, as well as the Great Lakes Region of the United States. This disease, or virus, is highly contagious,” he explained. “We highly suggest avoiding any and all close contact with those infected with the virus as it spreads rapidly through bite wounds, scratches, and other close contact.”

Immediately, I knew what happened to Robbie and what could have happened to me. I stared at the television for a moment and could hear the muffled frantic voices of Sam and Jen in the background.