Life Among The Dead (11 page)

“
It’s the first time a real live girl is naked in your room, and you miss it, Billy.” She raids his dresser choosing a pair of urban fatigues.

“
Fitting since I’ll be going commando anyway.” Becka absolutely refuses to wear the boy’s underwear. Braless, she puts on a gray wife beater and throws a black hooded sweatshirt over that. The hoodie is so big she practically swims in it.

She is scared about what comes next, going downstairs. She stands at the top of the flight and just looks down. It is eerily quiet as she slowly takes the first tentative step. Wood creaks under her weight; she allows time for a response from below. She takes the next and waits, then another. Becka repeats this process all the way down.

On the landing she sees the dining room to her left. The windows have been broken in and the thin drapes blow in the breeze. To the right is the living room. The shades are open, but at least the glass is intact. Opting for security she enters.

Becka crawls along the floor staying below the sill. She takes a quick peek outside and sees the gruesome profiles of the zombies walking by. They are all heading west. She slowly pulls the drapes closed.

She walks through the living room and takes a right down a short hall. On one side is the half bath and on the other is the basement, Derek’s den. She continues straight into the kitchen.

All the cabinets and counters are white. All appliances are stainless. The kitchen looks very aseptic, but still somehow inviting. In the center is a small island of white granite. The dining room is to her right accessible through a swinging door she ignores. She is heading for the back door, wanting fresh air.

The sun feels glorious on her face. She inhales deeply, feeling much better. The girl walks out onto the cement patio completely at ease, like all that has transpired today was a dream. She lets the door close itself on its spring as she revels in her fenced in patch of paradise. Her world has just opened up to this back yard and a handful of rooms. She smiles at the sky wanting more.

In the neighboring yard Becka can see a tall tree reaching over the fence. In its limbs it holds a small tree house aloft. She had always wanted one of those as a kid. What she really wants now is to go home. She wants to hold her mom.
I need to get out of here,
she says to herself.
I need my keys.
Her keys are in her purse and that is down in Derek’s room.

Derek’s basement dwelling is a mess and she can’t remember where she had left her purse amid the clutter. The dead boy’s clothes cover almost every surface that isn’t reserved for his action figures or models. She kicks at the piles in her search for her bag.

Becka notices the television is still on in the corner of the room. The title screen of the DVD they had been watching plays over and over. The musical loop is getting annoying; however, it gives her an idea.

The remote is located on the wobbly card table they had been playing their game at this weekend. She switches off the DVD player thinking how it’s probably good to give the machine a rest since it’s been running for the past 48 hours. The gray box is hot to the touch.

As the television resumes all she can find are test patterns. Some stations have only snow and static. She flips through, hoping someone is talking about whatever is going on. Finally, she finds a station with a regular broadcast. A male newscaster sits alone behind a large desk. His sculpted black hair seems a little less than perfect. His finely tailored suit is a little wrinkled around the collar. He reads robotically from a sheet of paper before him, his eyes barely look up at the camera.

“…
Still advised to stay indoors. Do not try to reach loved ones. It is suggested that you avoid windows and try not to be seen by the aggressors. If confronted with one or more the only way to protect yourself, we are told, is to shoot them in the head. Heavy blows have reportedly been effective as well.

“
Authorities also ask that you avoid anyone who has been bitten by the aggressors, as that seems to be the vector in which…”

The television shuts itself off. Becka tries to turn it back on, but the power seems to have gone out. She thinks about what she has just heard and wonders if they have already talked about what is causing this, or if they even know yet. The man said to stay inside.

“
And, I plan to.” Becka says locating her purse on a stuffed hat rack affixed to the wall by the stairs. “Just as soon as I get home.”

The girl takes her purse off of the crowded rack, feeling dumb for walking right past it. Items fall from the over loaded pegs. She searches inside the small bag for her phone. Over a dozen missed calls, all from her fake friends.
They either want to ask how my knee is, or they want to party.
Becka deletes the messages without reading them and presses her speed dial to call home.

Mom must be worried,
she says to herself while the line rings. She starts to tap her toe on the third ring, by the fifth she is vibrating with anticipation. She shifts her weight from foot to foot feeling extremely antsy. Her body relaxes when she hears her mom’s voice.

“
Hello, you’ve reached the Connelly residence…” The machine plays telling callers to leave their message after the tone.

“
Mom, it’s me. I’m on my way home.” She snaps her phone closed and tosses it back into her purse. Becka picks up the objects that had fallen off the hat rack. She sighs as she takes a familiar hat into her hand. It’s Stevie’s. He wore the tattered old thing when his hair got too long. It tended to frizz out in 80’s style wings when it was due for a trim. No design or insignia, just a simple black ball cap.

She starts to cry. She has been holding back as much as she can, but the emotions burst the levy she built to contain them. She crumples to the stairs clutching the old hat as her mind races.

He called out to me for help. He didn’t even know I did it. But, I had to. They wouldn’t leave. They followed his blood. They smelled it. Now I get to go home and Stevie never can. If I can get home.

She wipes away her tears with the fabric of the hat then slides it on.

“
Mom will be waiting.”

15

On the second floor Mr. Thompson pulls a cord hanging from the ceiling and a panel opens up, a wooden ladder is manually unfolded. The three venture up with the man of the house in the lead.

“
Lindsey, it’s me.” He whispers before popping his head into the attic. “We have company.”

“
Who?” Dan hears a pleasant female voice ask.

“
Little Barbara from next door.” The man says as he lays his weapon down on a stack of boxes beside a similarly long rifle. “And, she has brought the cavalry.”

Dan doesn’t know how fitting that title is for him. It made him feel a little embarrassed. He is just one reservist with no ammo. He looks around the top floor, never before has he seen a finished attic. Instead of bare beams the ceiling is paneled and the walls are sheet rocked. The tall soldier has to duck his head until he gets to the middle of this ‘A’ framed room.

Candles illuminate the space. A middle-aged woman emerges from behind a stack of boxes where she had been crouching. In her hands is another long rifle.

“
How do you do? I’m Lindsey.” She says offering a warm smile.

“
I have been better. I’m Dan. Pleased to meet you.”

“
Bill.” The large man says extending his hand to his new boarder. Dan clasps it and is impressed with the gentleman’s grip.

“
So, you are the cavalry?” Lindsey asks as if she expects to see more Army men standing behind him. The solitary soldier before her is tall and a little gangly. She wouldn’t call him scrawny, but he is quite thin when compared to her husband when he wore the uniform.

“
What’s left of it.” Dan sheepishly answers her as if he could hear her appraisal.

“
Good thing you got here when you did. We’re in for a cold snap tonight.” Bill says ushering Dan and the girl towards one of the larger walls.

The new arrivals are escorted to lawn chairs set up by a round window that overlooks the street below. The hosts look at Dan with expectant gazes.
They want to know what’s going on out there,
he supposes.
It’s story time.

“
We were called out early this morning to control a riot that was brewing downtown. At least, that’s what they said it was. We were sent to barricades to help the police contain the ruckus. Other groups were sent into the thick of it, in riot gear, to quell the chaos.” Dan stares off in his memory.

“
People came running at us. They were bleeding and scared. They didn’t want to fight us… Just wanted to get away. They wanted out. We let them pass… Then we saw what they were running from…

“
Most riots you think of as fast explosions of violence. This was weird. A mass of people came towards us, moving extremely slow. We ordered them to stop, they weren’t stopping. They weren’t like the people who wanted to get out. They didn’t look scared.

“
All walks of life. Every different race and age, some of our fellow soldiers and cops were in there as well. One officer was sent out to talk to the people. He met them half way. The horde just converged on him. They tore him to pieces right before our eyes. And, they continued to come towards us.

“
We received the go ahead to use incapacitating rounds. Those didn’t even faze them. My Sergeant was trying to get the live fire order, but HQ said no-go. They told us a fire hose was on route.

“
The people were about a half a block away and we were ordered to hold our position. The damned fire hose was nowhere in sight. Our sergeant over ruled the orders and told us to open fire. We lit them up. Real rounds weren’t much more effective than the beanbags, unless we hit them in their heads. That’s the killing blow.

“
By that point they were too close and too many. We needed ground, so we put some space between us by bounding to the next intersection. They started coming from everywhere. They must have breached the other barricades. Thousands of them.”

Dan’s eyes glisten, unblinking as he tells his story. The whole scene plays out in his head as he relives it.

“
We ran. As a unit we ran for our lives. Our numbers dwindled as people fell out, or opted to go in other directions… As far as I know, I’m the last one.” The soldier wipes his eyes with the rough fabric of his sleeve. “They ate him. That cop who tried to talk to them. They ate him. We saw people being eaten as we ran. We couldn’t stop it.”

“
Alright.” Bill reassures. “Lindsey, why don’t you take little Barbara to the kitchen and make us all a snack?”

Lindsey stands with one of the rifles and puts a hand on Barbara’s shoulder. “C’mon sweetie. We will have to be very quiet.”

Bill waits until they have gone before producing a silver flask from his pocket. He takes a sip, and then offers the container to Dan.

“
This should help.” Bill says as Dan sips deeply of the foul liquid. “You’ve been through the shit today.”

Dan takes another sip and is feeling a lot more relaxed. The liquor warms his stomach; he can feel it tingle through his blood.

“
Are these what I think they are? From what they said on TV, it sounds like…”

“
The walking dead?” Dan answers. “Yeah.”

“
Fuck… Zombies.” The older man shakes his head. “So, what do we know?”

“
As far as what?” Dan asks after a third sip. He has never been much of a heavy drinker, always a lightweight who stuck to his occasional beer.

“
How did it start? A parasite, a virus, radiation, terrorism?”

“
Take your pick.” Dan shrugs.

“
You’ve spent time out there, you’re kinda the expert among us.”

“
They didn’t tell us shit!” Dan snaps. “I’m just a reservist. I work in a factory for fucks sake. I was expecting to be spit on, or have bottles thrown at me, not zombies from hell.”

Bill remains silent. Dan feels bad about his outburst, also relieved. The stress of the day was bound to come out. He hands back the flask and runs his hands over his face.

“
Sorry.” Dan offers as he looks at the floor. He does have some information to share with the man. “If they bite you, you become one. I don’t know how long it takes though. It also seems as if the recently dead are rising as well.”

“
How do you know that?” Bill asks, staring at Dan with rapt attention.

“
A child, Barbara’s brother, died of SIDS. He was one of them. There was also a female zombie that I saw. She was completely naked and didn’t have a single bite on her.”

Bill makes a contemplative sound as he takes this in.

“
Like I said,” Dan reiterates. “Headshots work. Explosions seem to be effective.”

“
So, that was you we heard, making all that noise?” Bill asks.

“
Yeah.” Dan answers the man who is referring to the soldier’s escapades in the neighborhood. He thinks about what else he can impart. “They don’t like fire. They seem to be attracted to noise as a way of finding food. Food being us. The fresher the better apparently. I saw a dead man disregard the meal he was making out of a paperboy to try and get me”

“
Jesus. Anything else?” Bill sips from his flask.

“
They don’t feel pain. I’ve seen them disregard serious injuries to come at me. This old man, two houses down, must have died soaking in his hot tub.”