Life Among The Dead (5 page)

Stevie and Becka look down through the new hole. They witnessed their friend disappear under his mom’s bed. They dare not shout down, now that the dead surround him. They watch helplessly as the things travel in pointless circles. All the two above can do is watch and hope.

Watch and hope is all Derek can do as well. He sees them moving around the room noting that some of them are barefoot, some are in slippers, and one appears to be wearing combat boots.

Dust bunnies attack the boy, disturbed by his presence. He must fight off a sneeze. His eyes water to the point of blindness. He has to pinch his nose to avoid letting it out.

Above Derek, Becka starts to cry softly. She is worried about him,
He’s down there alone, with those monsters and we can’t help him.
Stevie thinks he has a plan. He moves to the hatch they had entered and opens it. The skinny boy lowers his head down into the hall.

“
Hey!” He screams. “You undead douche bags! Come and get me!”

Derek can hear Stevie yelling.
Is he in the hall?
He wonders. The feet are now heading towards the door.

“
You smelly fucks!” He can hear. “Yeah, I’m talking to you.”

Derek slowly pulls his body out from between the rowing machine and the bed frame. His circulation returns slowly with the sensation of pins and needles. He creeps out from under the bed and looks over the top towards the door. He can see the zombies in the hall looking up at the hatch.

“
So, what are the prerequisites of becoming a zombie? Prove that you are as dumb as you are ugly, and that you can smell like shit?” Stevie continues his barrage.

Looking up Derek meets Becka’s eyes. She extends her hand down as far as she can. The boy carefully steps onto the mattress his arm reaches to her. Their fingertips barely touch. He has to hop, making small bounces at first until he builds momentum trying not to make too much noise in the process.

Derek and Becka finally clasp hands. The girl struggles to raise her portly pal. She has to grab onto a floor beam buried under the insulation to prevent being pulled down. She manages to levitate him a few feet, but can’t get him any higher. Derek is starting to slip away from her.

He scrambles to climb up her arm, but his sweaty palms cannot find traction on her smooth skin. He falls, landing on his feet. They sink deeply into the air springs. One of the support boards beneath the box spring snaps loudly under his weight. During the landing his ankle had rolled painfully, he is now off balance and falls knocking over his mom’s nightstand. He lies in a heap on the ground just a couple feet from the bedroom door.

“
Derek, they’re coming!” He can hear Stevie yell. The boy can’t hold them captivated any longer, not with a fresh food source so conveniently located.

Derek lets out a cry. He knows he won’t be able to get up through the hole in time. He dives under the bed again, but meets the rower. He can’t budge the exorcise machine.
She never even uses it,
he barks in his mind as his thoughts race. His brain starts making wild wishes.
I wish Warren was here.
It’s an odd thought. His mom had dated Warren for four years, the last three he had lived with them. The man died 6 months ago, shot when someone tried to rob the gas station he night managed. He wants Warren here because the man had a gun.

“
That he kept by the bed.” Derek looks at the mess made by the toppled nightstand when it landed on its side. He pulls out the drawer letting its contents fall. Derek tosses the wooded box at the approaching dead and looks around the pile of stuff. He sees romance novels, and his mom’s check book, condoms, lotion and a vibrator. No gun. The dead are on top of him.

Becka watches in horror as their teeth sink into his flesh. Hungry mouths rend strips of meat while the boy screams such a terrifying scream. His body is man handled. The zombies pull him around, each trying to get their share of the bounty. Derek’s head flops with the motion of every tug. His screaming fades. The corpses crouch over his limp body feeding like suckling pigs.

Becka buries her face in her hands and weeps. Stevie crawls over to her. He didn’t watch it happen and can’t bring himself to look down. He puts a hand on Becka’s shoulder, offering her support. The sounds of the feast emanate from below, wet and sickening noises that make Stevie gag. He urges Becka to come away from the hole.

9

Dan rests his head against the fence feeling better, empty inside, but better nonetheless. He didn’t have much in his stomach to begin with, just coffee and some jerky. In his rush to get out the door this morning he had burned his breakfast.

The old man paws at the fence behind him. Dan tries not to register the zombie. He wants to think of happier things. He ignores the sound of the Admiral’s fingernails scraping against the wood and digs into his shirt pocket for a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes. He pulls one out with his teeth and returns the pack.

The soldier must straighten out one leg to gain access to his hip pocket where his lighter is. The thought of the movement makes him groan, but he needs a smoke. The lighter opens with a click. He takes that first glorious drag then flips the lighter closed. He admires the object and smiles. Heather gave it to him last Christmas, just a simple silver refillable. No designs or flash. Exactly what he had wanted. He slides it back into its home and withdraws another object, a good luck charm he always carries.

As he holds the tiny plastic thing on top of two fingertips he feels miles away from the walking dead. Its and oval disk adorned with a skull and crossbones. His thumbnail finds a crack along the edges of it and it opens like a clamshell. Inside the cheap novelty locket is a small picture of his wife. He looks into her dazzling jade eyes, and then traces her beautiful face that is framed by her long raven hair.

The other side of the locket is empty. That spot is reserved for their first child. The soldier can hardly believe that in just a couple short weeks, he is going to be a daddy. His smile starts to fade. A fire is ignited inside of him.

His seasickness relieved, he forces himself to stand.
If I am to see Heather and my child, I need to get moving.
Though he desperately wants to get to his wife, he knows he is no good to her dead, or bitten. He’ll have to be careful.

He faces the back of yet another house, this one a white two story. He performs a cursory inspection. There is a sliding glass door entering the house. Gates blocked the alleys. The soldier can see the dead on the street heading east towards Jimmy’s.
Probably curious about the explosion,
he thinks. He had assumed they are attracted to sound as one way of finding food.

Proceeding to the back door he crouches below the fences in the alleys. One wooden riser puts him on the redwood deck. He doesn’t know what is in store for him in this house, but he feels he must enter. The determined soldier finds the door slides open freely.

Pushing through a set of vertical blinds the man follows the muzzle of his almost empty M-16. His breathing deepens as he feels tension build in his chest. He pulls a cord along the blinds to open them so he can glance around the home. He carefully takes baby steps inside. Dan doesn’t want any surprises.

Except for the light spilling in from behind him, it is dark. He takes in his new surroundings; he is in a dining room. In the middle is a large oval table. To the right of the table he can see a door that he suspects leads to the kitchen. On the same wall a window is cut out looking into the next room, two bar stools sit underneath it.

The soldier slowly walks around the table toward the window and glances in. Amid the shadows he can see the outlines of cabinetry and in the center there appears to be a large island. On the far wall he sees a door that may lead to the alley between this house and the next. He continues, passing a china hutch that displays serving ware and tea sets.

The dining room ends at an archway. The hardwood floor meets carpeting. The soldier creeps into a living room he would die for. If the situation was different he could see spending some time in here. On the right hand wall a huge entertainment center stands, within it sits the largest television Dan has ever seen. Upon shelves, orbiting the set like satellites, are various gadgets. He can’t tell what they are, just black boxes with red and green LED lights shining away.

The sunlight from the sliding door behind him ends and Dan is in awe. Before the gargantuan T.V. is a massive couch, large enough to seat a basketball team comfortably. It is in the shape of a horseshoe and is recessed into the floor. A coffee table is placed down in the middle creating an island.

“
Fuck me.” Dan is forced to whisper. He thinks of his own cramped apartment. “Must be nice.”

Two recliners are at the far wall, their backs to a large picture window. The soldier walks past the impressive geography of the living room to the window. There is a heavy fabric curtain beneath a thick layer of lace. He locates the pull cord and cracks the blackout shade slightly.

Peering out to the street through the translucent lace Dan can see the dead continuing their parade east. Some are dressed for work while some are still dressed for bed.
And they always will be,
Dan sadly realizes. A blonde woman passes by who isn’t dressed for anything. She is completely naked. Dan can’t take his eyes off of her. There is something even odder about her then her lack of clothing. He notices she is not injured. There isn’t a mark on her that he can see. Another zombie bumps the naked woman and she stumbles around in a circle. Dan catches a glimpse of her entire body.
Not a bite. Not a scratch.

Dan slowly pulls the cord to open the crack wider before she leaves his range of vision. He can’t see how she contracted it. The living dead girl is soon out of sight as she passes the hedges that separated this home from the Admiral’s. Dan is looking at the driveway and disheartened when he sees it is empty.

He leaves the curtain open for light.
They shouldn’t be able to see inside if it’s dark in here,
he figures. His attention returns to the house. He looks past the window to a small breezeway. He can see a set of stairs and across from that is the front door, which stands ajar. Between them he can see another door that he speculates is a bathroom or a closet.

Wait.
He tells himself to backtrack.
Ajar?
He looks again at the front door and confirms that it is opened slightly. He can see daylight through the void.
Even in this neighborhood you don’t do that,
he chastises the residents. He stands there, staring at the gaping breach of security. He feels very vulnerable and wonders if he should risk closing it. He looks out the window to the legion of undead that passes by.
They aren’t lured to the open door. If just one of them sees or hears it shut… They’ll all come down on me. I have to leave it open.

He retreats to the dining room where he stands and resumes his watch of the door. His head lowers and moves from side to side trying to see if any zombies are nearby. He is feeling jumpy. Paranoia forces him to look around and over his shoulders, as if one may have snuck past him somehow.

He leans his head into the kitchen and his vision slowly becomes accustomed to the darkness inside. Next to the door leading outside he can see a phone affixed to the wall. The handset is connected to the receiver by an extremely long cord that would allow the chef of the house free mobility while preparing meals.

Dan puts his hands on the brass plate of the white door and pushes it open. It swings back and forth behind him before coming to a rest. He is tiptoeing fearful that they might hear him out on the street. He lays his rifle on the center island that’s cluttered with bowls and measuring implements, there are several bags containing different types of flour. He reaches the phone and picks up the receiver.
They can afford that living room but not a cordless?
He thinks to himself.

Phone in hand Dan looks out the small window of a rather flimsy door. The alley is on the other side. He spots the next fence and beyond that a red house. Only a simple hook secured the lightweight door.

Now he stares at the illuminated numbers of the phone and draws a complete blank.
What the hell is her number?
He can’t remember. He always uses speed dial when he calls her. He closes his eyes and concentrates. A digit at a time the number forms in his head. His index finger pushes them into the phone and he listens, hoping he got it right.
It’s ringing.

The soldier impatiently waits with his arms crossed. He leans his anxious body against the thin strip of wall that holds the phone. The man’s back depressed a knob and the lights switch on with a blaze against the whiteness of the kitchen. Scarlet smears along the floor and walls contrast the sterile decor.

Dan’s stomach drops from the shock. He hears a rustling in the kitchen with him. On the floor by the far side of the island he sees a morbidly obese woman come into view. She drags herself along the slick linoleum with her ham hock arms. The yellow frock she wears is rigid from dried blood. He can see her throat has been torn out as she lifts her head to view her perspective meal.

The soldier backs away, but meets the wall. The massive woman takes his boot in a fierce grip and tries to bring it to her gaping mouth.

Dan kicks out. He pulls and fights but cannot shake her. The man hops along the kitchen towards the swinging door wanting more room to maneuver. He wants to snag his rifle as he passes the island, but he can’t reach it and can’t risk stopping. The behemoth is very strong, and very hungry.