Zombie D.O.A. (12 page)

“I thought I heard voices,” he said
smiling broadly as he
en
tered
the room. “Sorry for the intrusion. I’m your upstairs neighbor, Joe. Joe Thursday. And you must be Chris, right?” He extended a hand and I took it, feeling almost elated to be speaking to an ordinary person again.

And Joe most certainly was ordinary. He was forty something, balding and paunchy. He wore fawn chinos, a striped golf shirt that looked a size too small, and brown loafers. This was the guy Kranski suspected of being a drug dealer? He looked
more like a used car salesman.

Thursday turned towards where Mrs. Kranski still held Ruby. “And this must be your
charming
mother, “ he said. “Madam, an honor.”

He moved towards Kranski with his hand extended and the old lady hissed and tried to get up. Thursday was too close to her through and in one swift movement he’d pulled Ruby from her grasp and handed her off to me. The baby didn’t even wake.

Kranski le
t out a scream of rage and flew at Thursday with claws
flailing. He neatly avoided
her at
tack and
,
as if by magic
,
a small
pistol appeared in his hand. There was a single pop and Kranski fell back, a neat bullet-hole perforating her brow.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Thursday said, “Now!”

He was already sett
ing off down the passage at a brisk walk, and I followed, cradling Ruby in my arms. As we approached the doorway, the first of the creatures lurched through and Thursday dispatched him without even breaking stride.

I followed close behind, leaving the apartment and turning left. More of the things were climbing the stairs to the second floor. Thursday paid them no heed as we started up the steps towards his third floor apartment. He walked with the gait of a man late for an appointment rather than one in fear of his life, and I was envious of his calm.

As we approached his apartment he produced a single key, and inserted it into the slot with his left hand. At that moment a woman with her lower jaw missing charged out of the shadows to his right. Thursday lifted the gun without even looking up, and fired.

His shot caug
ht the woman in the eye and she went down. “Shit”, Thursday said, “left and low.” He pushed the door open and we hustled into his apartment.  Or at least we hustled into a steel cage built around the door. With the door closed, he entered a code into an access pad and we were in.

“Welcome to Chez Thursday,” he said.

“Some setup you’ve got
t
here.” I said.

“In my business, you get kind of paranoid.”

“What business is that?”

“I’m an actor.”

Chez Thursday, as he’d called it was large and tastefully furnished. I don’t know much about decoratin
g or anything, but it just felt
right. Some of the furniture looked antique and some modern. There were modern art prints on the walls next to what looked like
African death ma
sks. The walls were painted in d
ark reds and greens and there was hidden lighting. It sounds pretty eccentric, but somehow it worked.

The most impressive thing about the apartment though was the security. In addition to the steel cage build around the front door, all of the windows had steel shutters. There was also a bank of TV screens with CC
T
V images of the outside of the building and all the public areas including the stairwells and the landings.

On it now I could see the creatures rampaging through the building. And on one of the outside
views
my old friend Chavez, standing in the middle of the road replete in shades and a long leather coat. His arms were folded across his chest
as
he cradled a revolver that would have made Dirty Harry envious.

Thursday showed me where I could bunk down and suggested putting Ruby in a separate room because, “you never know.”

Then he pointed me
in the direction of the bathroom and I spent a
n
hour soaking and scrubbing the filth and blood off me. My head was throbbing and after washing my hair it started bleeding again.

Joe gave me a pair of Levi’s and a t-shirt to wear. They were too big, but it felt good to be wearing clean clothes again.

“We’re going to need to take a look at that head wound,” Joe said. I protested that it was okay but he insisted and after examining it, pronounced that it was going to need a stitch or two.

“Two ticks”, he said, and was true to his word, stitching me up with the quick efficiency of an ER doctor.

“They teach you that in acting school?” I asked. 

“Well, I
did do a couple of episodes of General Hospital,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” I said. “Not just for this.”

Joe nodded. “No problem,” he said. “Figured you were due a helping hand. I saw what you did for that woman.”

“Someone lent me a helping hand there too, someone pretty good with a rifle. You didn’t learn that on General Hospital.”

“No,” he said. “I learnt that in Africa.”

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.

“Hey
,
you hungry? Joe asked, then added, “sure you are.”

Actually, I was starving, and the
chili
Joe
fixed for us
were
the best I’d ever tasted, despite his protestations that he wasn’t much of a cook.

Later I checked in on Ruby who was still fast asleep. I crept onto the bed next to her, got my face close to hers and just lie there watching her breathe. There was a meaty smell to her breath. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes seemed to be in constant movement behind her
eye
lids. I wondered if she was dreaming and if so what about?

With my finger I traced a line along her
cheek
and she reached up and wrapped it in
her
tiny hand.
I looked at that perfect little hand an
d felt tears welling in my eyes
as a strange blend of emotions overwhelmed me.

Here was my daughter, alive against all the odds and yet what a rough
hand
fate had
dealt
her. Those hands had
nails too long for a baby, much too long.

Somewhere I drifted off to sleep and
dreamed of being chased through a labyrinth by the Minator. Except in the dream the Minator was not a man with a bull’s head, but a rotting corpse with the face of my daughter. And the labyrinth was a maze of alleyways.

No matter how hard
I
ran, no matter how many twists and turns I took, I could hear
Ruby’s
breathing in my ear. Eventually, exhausted I reached the rusted fence in the alley. Frank , Zeke, Shirl and the professor were all there behind the fence, their bodies ripped and torn and blood-spattered. The professor lifted his wine bottle and gave me a wink.

When
I turned Ruby was barely two feet in front of me. She smiled, showing a mouthful of piranha-sharp teeth. “Dad,” she said, and leaned forward, sinking her teeth into my neck. She started suckling immediately and although the pain was exquisite, I didn’t move,
but
clung to
the fence in F
rank’s crucifying position.

What was more disconcerting was the suckling sound, which reminded me of Ruby feeding on her mother’s mutilated breast.

I came slowly awake and for a moment I was unsure of where I was. Lying in the darkness it began to come back to me. I was in Joe Thursday’s apartment. But still the dream lingered, I could still feel pain, still hear the revolting sounds of Ruby’s suckling. 

It was then I realized that Ruby’s face was buried in my neck.

I pushed her away from me and bounded from the bed, instantly awake. My neck was throbbing in pain and when I massaged it my finger
s
came away covered in blood. 

I walked quickly
to the dressing table
mirror and surveyed the damage
. Ruby’s little teeth had cut deep into the skin, removing a sizable chunk of flesh. Thick blood welled in the wound, but I wasn’t going to bleed to
death. T
hat was
t
he least
of my problems. I’d been bitten. Jesus Christ, I’d been bitten!

On
the bed Ruby laughed and gurgled like a normal baby and I felt a dense, black anger engulf me. Right then I knew what I had to do. What I’d always had to do.

I rounded the bed and picked up one of the pillows. Ru
by continued to kick and gurgle
and she smiled at me. For a mome
nt my resolve almost deserted, but then
I noticed a speck of blood on her chin, and I knew I had to go through with it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I said and placed the pillow over her face.

I held it there for a long while, even after she’d stopped
struggling. Then a deep, fathomless sorrow welled up in me and I slipped to me knees on the floor.  I let out a cry that must have sounded like the most tortured soul in hell and then
my body was wracked with sobs.

“Chris,” I felt Joe Thursday’s hand on my shoulder, and I didn’t care.

“Chris!” he repeated, more urgently this time. He was shaking me. I opened my eyes and
I
was momentarily confused by the sideways view. I’d pulled myself into a fetal position on the floor.

“Chris, you okay? Jesus man, you were screaming like a fucking
Katyusha
!”

“Ruby?”

“What?

“Where’s Ruby?” I demanded.

“She’s over there. On the bed, and phew, I think she’s got a diaper needs changing.”

I got
to me feet
as slowly as a fighter after an eight count. Ruby was lying on the bed kicking her feet, a sour expression on her face.

Joe shoved a bag of pampers into m
y midriff, “Over to you, dad,
” he said.

Later when Ruby had been changed and fed, I told Joe about the dream. “Man that’s some nightmare, no wonder you were screaming the place down.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said, embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” he said.
“
You scared the shit outa me, that’s all. I snuck down to your place to pick up some provisions for the baby. I was halfway down the passage when I heard you yelling. Thought some of those things got in
here
and bushwacked you
.”