by Flacco, Jack
“Anything’s better than this. What is it, Ranger? Hurry!”
“Pull the furniture away from the door.”
“What? You want us to die?”
Ranger plopped his hands on one of the stools in the pile. “Trust me.”
Without question, Randy did as Ranger asked. Piece by piece the barricade they had taken pride in building came down. Chairs, lamps, coffee table, the boys threw all of it back in the center of the room. The couch came next. Randy knew if they moved the couch from the door they’d have a few seconds before they could make a run for the truck, but that would mean he and Ranger would have to shoot their way through a crowd of thirty to forty gut carvers. This was in addition to the zombie heading their way from the sliding glass doors. No way would they survive, not with so many.
Ranger had something else in mind. “When I say ‘pull’, fling the couch to the center of the room and run for the bedroom.”
“That’s your plan? Why don’t you just toss them the keys to the SUV and get it over with?”
“Listen. Do what I say. This will work.”
Randy nodded and bent to grab one end of the couch. On the count of three, they would toss the couch and Randy would make a run for it.
One.
Two.
Three.
The couch went flying and so did Randy. Ranger stayed behind holding the door until he saw Randy inside the bedroom. Ranger then opened it, pulled his shotgun and let off three rounds into the horde, taking out heads and spraying green brains over the entire mass. He quickly hid his weapon and drew his knife. He ran it along his hand, allowing his blood to flow freely. He darted to the couch and splattered it all over the furniture, then sprinted to the room with Randy and slammed the door shut.
It took several seconds before the zombies’ knew what hit them. They shook and their nostrils flared. Their eyes rolled to the back of their heads. Not a one could resist the frenzy. To the undead, the frenzy would dictate their next moves as if instinct had switched their brains to overdrive, and they couldn’t control anything they did. They piled into the cottage, one after another heading straight for the couch where Ranger had splashed his blood as bait. The whole lot jumped, twisted and pushed their way to the spot, toppling over each other to get to the furniture. They all wanted a whiff of Ranger’s blood—their new drug.
Behind the bedroom door, after Randy had bandaged Ranger’s wound with a strip of material he tore from the curtain, Ranger grabbed the corner chair next to the window and smashed the glass. He then heaved the blanket from the bed, stuck it over the pane and hopped on the porch outside. Randy followed as they scurried the length of the lawn to the SUV.
Several stragglers burst from the woods across the road from the cottage and spotted Ranger and Randy as they dove into the truck. The zombies rushed to catch their prey, but slammed into the doors of the SUV instead. The boys had tucked themselves safely inside before any of the maggot chewers could do harm.
Not until Ranger had peeked at his rearview mirror did he know anything was wrong. In the truck with them, one of the undead sat there in the backseat, seething and drool dripping from its mouth as hunger blanketed its face. It began to shake from the scent of Ranger’s blood in the car.
As the frenzy took hold of the zombie, Randy’s anger burned. His veins popped from his neck, his lean body turned hard, and he ground his teeth as a scowl began to cover his entire face. Without warning, he jumped Ranger snatching his knife, then pounced on the intruder in the backseat. He straddled it and pinned its arms with his knees. When it could no longer move, Randy stabbed it in the neck, but didn’t stop there. One thrust after another, the knife penetrated dead muscle, sinew and bone. With every pull of the knife, Randy had green blood spray on the windows, on the roof of the truck, on the seats and on his face. The kid had lost his mind. The undead corpse became a symbol of what he hated. It was his way of coping. His way of making sense.
When Randy stopped his attack, the light returned to his eyes. Covered in green matter from his head to his waist, he panted as the rage subsided. Green goo dripped from the tip of his knife as he held it close to his face, ready in case the body came back to life. It would take him a moment before he realized it wouldn’t come back from its final resting place.
Through his panting, Randy turned to Ranger, and said. “We’re gonna need another truck.”
Ranger started the ignition, placed the vehicle in drive and shook his head, not because of what Randy did but because of replacing the vehicle with another one. He had grown quite fond of it and didn’t like the idea of trading it in. Then again, the way the corners of his mouth curled, he enjoyed seeing what Randy had done to the zombie. He said, “You’re gonna need a change of clothes, too.”
Chapter 5
After Charlie’s outburst, Matty removed her finger from the trigger. Unsure what to make of it, she held firm in position, and kept her gun pointed at the dragger’s body.
The weak voice came and went, a whisper, but no one caught the words.
Not afraid of what would happen to him, Charlie ran across the storage room to the edge of the hall. He wanted to lend a hand, and if he fell to one of the creatures, he’d rest in peace knowing he’d saved someone while doing it. Without a doubt, he had recognized the voice, the hand and the face too.
She raised her head at him from the dead creature’s fur under the doorway and an immediate glint sparkled in her eyes. She also recognized Charlie.
Amber.
“I thought you’d died.” Charlie said, bending to her.
Amber began to breathe heavier and her eyes grew wider. She had a word pressing on her tongue that wouldn’t come out. Her hand grasped the creature’s fur, tearing it as if she wanted to make an urgent plea. She shook her head at him, not a good sign if he wanted to know what ran through her mind. Her lips parted but with empty words.
“You’re fine now. Don’t worry about a thing, my friends will take care of you.”
Everything wasn’t fine. Her head shook more and more and the word finally left her lips. “Run.”
“What?”
“Run!” Amber dropped her head on the dead creature and expelled her last breath.
A warm gelatin-like liquid dripped on the back of Charlie’s neck. With his shaky hand, he rubbed the liquid from its resting place and studied it. Clear and thick. He rubbed it between his fingers as if playing with it would help him figure out what it was. He didn’t know what to think. Had a pipe leaked from the ceiling in the hall? Another drip, this time on his head, pushed him slowly to stretch his neck upward to the origin of the substance. Before he could get a good look at it, Matty and Jon tore him away from the hall and back inside the room.
Its growl rumbled as a fury paw slid into view from the top of the doorframe.
Working on instinct, Matty stepped forward and cocked her .45 at whatever hung there twenty feet away.
“What are these things?” Charlie asked.
“They’re not ours.” Jon answered.
“Keep quiet.” Matty stood in one spot, waiting.
Another paw grasped the other side of the doorframe and the head emerged. It seethed. Its mandibles sharp and long, clapped. Had its yellow eyes possessed the capability to burn holes it would have consumed its foes in an instant. Saliva dripped from its mouth and bathed Amber.
“Shoot it.” Charlie said. “Shoot it.”
“No.” Matty said, without blinking. “Why didn’t it attack you at the doorway? Why isn’t it attacking now?”
“It looks like it wants something.” Jon said.
“Wants something? You’re kidding, right?” Matty stepped to one side, putting some space between them and the creature.
“Well, look at the thing.” Jon poked his head from behind Matty’s back, “It could have killed Charlie, but it didn’t. It knows you can kill it. I’ll bet it’s trying to figure you out.”
While holding her aim at the creature with her right hand, Matt
y plopped her left on Jon’s head and pushed him back to where he belonged. If anything she knew as true, she knew Jon had a way of being an annoying little brother. For that same reason, she couldn’t avoid how he always managed to get to the heart of a matter. If it’d rained, he would not only say it’d rained but also explain why it’d rained. Something about the cloud cover condensing with water makes it rain. She thought, maybe Jon had a point. Maybe the creature wanted something.
It stared at Matty hanging upside down from the doorframe. Under it, Amber’s body lay on the dead creature. Its triangular head swiveled, scanning the room, the outside of the hall, and its fallen kind. It lifted its paw from the doorframe and ran it along one of its saliva-soaked mandibles. It cleaned itself much like a fly would after a meal. The fine spikes protruding from its paws aided in keeping the creature suspended.
After its odd grooming session, it jumped to the floor of the storage room. It sniffed the blood trail leading from the dead creature blocking the doorway to the other creature lying wasted ten feet away. Matty steadied her gun and kept it pointed at its head as it roamed nearer. The closer it came, the easier the shot. If Matty decided to pull the trigger, the bullet would pierce the creature’s skull leaving an empty space where the brain should have been. For some reason, the creature knew this and kept its head low, much like monkeys respecting the dominant male in a troop. Somehow, she understood and eased her grip on her weapon.
“What are you waiting for?” Charlie asked, shaking on the spot.
“It’s not a threat.” Matty estimated its distance from them to be five feet.
“The thing’s ready to pounce on us!”
“It’s not a threat.” Matty lowered her gun slightly, trusting it would not attack.
The creature sniffed the body, then bent and touched the floor with its chest as it slipped its mandibles under the bleeding corpse. Like a limp balloon, the body’s head flopped around lifeless. The creature gently pulled its mandibles from under the body, lifted its head to Matty and stared at her.
Thoughts raced through Matty’s mind causing her to lower her gun even further. The creature’s yellow eyes made her think she had killed something dear. Did she kill a cub? A father? A mother? A daughter, a son? What was it that she did? Did these creatures have something in them that made them value family, much like humans? She didn’t understand, yet that lack of understanding didn’t stop her from attempting to communicate with it.
Matty extended her hand, and asked, “What is it?”
“Are you nuts?” Jon tugged at her shirt.
It snorted several times, but it maintained its gaze on her. It had within itself the intelligence to know Matty had killed, not out of sport but out of self-preservation. With that knowledge, it retreated slowly, always keeping its eyes fixed on the redhead with the gun. Its breathing sounded hollow and deep, like a brewing storm. When it reached the exit, it sprung to grasp the doorframe and soon disappeared from where it came.
Not wasting time, Matty hid her weapon and pulled Jon into a massive hug. Charlie collapsed with his back against the wall, closed his eyes and released a sigh. With trouble having passed, they all breathed easy.
The relief didn’t last long for Charlie. The thought hit as soon as he had begun massaging the back of his neck. Amber, what about Amber? Is she okay? Is she alive? He vaulted from the wall and rushed to her. Before he could hold her one last time, the creature lunged at Amber from its hiding place on the ceiling in the corridor, tore her head from her body and tossed it into the room with the kids. Unable to contain his horror, Charlie screamed, holding his hands to his face and grimacing as he followed the head rolling to the center of the room, landing facedown next to the body of the dead creature. He dropped to his knees and sobbed like he’d never done or would again. His hands turned as claws, wanting to tear apart his face. The monster then leaped to an adjacent wall and scampered away, disappearing into the darkness.
Matty pressed Jon’s head into her chest, burying his face to shield him from the sight. Some things she couldn’t bear have him watch. She leaned her chin on his head wanting to feel his warmth, thankful they made it out alive. Closing her eyes, she wondered what she would have accomplished by killing the beast. She would have let loose another shot and perhaps it would have alerted more of them. Worst still, she would have hated being the one responsible for bringing more eaters to their location. For sure, they would have made a mess of the three.
Matty didn’t have to argue with herself, she knew she had made the right decision.
Charlie’s eyes dried quickly, soon replaced by a furrowed brow and a sneer. The claws he had for hands turned to fists and his attention focused on Matty. She killed Amber, dismembering her body and leaving her torso there to bleed. She caused her death. She made a mess of her, he thought.
But before he could lay a hand on Matty, the sound of long strides from the hall caused Matty to push Jon aside and aim her gun at the door while Charlie prepared to pounce on her. Two kids appeared from the hall to the outside of the doorway. The first, a boy about sixteen, black hair, a torn shirt, black jeans and dark eyes, stopped his sprint at the foot of the creature blocking his entry into the storage room. He bent his head to study the bodies and his mouth dropped. The second, a girl about the same age, had blond hair, a gray blouse, a black jacket, blue jeans and blue eyes. She stopped short of running into the boy. She took one look at the headless body and turned away, not wanting to examine it any further. One hand covered her stomach while the other her mouth.
The boy entered the room hopping over the mess, brandishing a black 9mm pistol. The girl followed with a hunting knife laced on her back and her own black pistol in her hand.
Jon recognized them first, and said, “Matty, don’t shoot! It’s Eddie and Trish.”
“Two of them?” Eddie asked, lowering his weapon and pointing to the creature in the middle of the room.
“There was a third, but it took off.” Matty said.
“You mean, you let it go.” Charlie wanted to make sure she had her story straight.
“Like I said, it wasn’t a threat.” She tucked her gun from view and greeted the pair with a handshake.
“It stood right there. If you had put a bullet in its head, Amber would still be alive.”
“Was that Amber?” Trish asked, pointing at the head.
“Yeah, your friend here had the thing at point-blank range and didn’t shoot it.”
“Why didn’t you shoot it?” Eddie asked.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Matty’s face tightened.
“How did she die?” Trish asked.
“She was already dead.” Jon jumped into the conversation.
“How do you know?” Charlie stared at the kid, as if he could turn him into stone. “Did you hear her heart stop beating?”
Jon shuffled his tiny frame in front of Matty and faced Charlie, ready to shield his sister. He was a short kid, but he had prepared words far taller than himself. “When Amber spoke her last word she collapsed, she let go of her final breath and lay there with her eyes open, not moving. I don’t know what you’d call it, but I’d sure say she was dead.”
Matty slapped her face and shook her head. Blood began running into her face and she felt hot. She grabbed her brother, pulled him aside and stepped into his place, addressing Charlie. “Look, I’m sorry about your sister. I’m sure she was a great person. My brother sometimes doesn’t know when he comes across as insensitive toward others.” She glared at Jon, then gave Charlie her full attention again. “He means well. He’s just trying to defend me for what I did. Now, I don’t think what I did was wrong. That alien dog didn’t look as if it’d wanted to attack us. It looked as if it mourned the death of its kind. You have to know, your sister was already dead before that thing tore it apart. Do you get that? I don’t want you to think I didn’t take that into account when considering whether I should have taken its life or not.”
Charlie glance
d at the others, who waited for him to do something. His idea of doing something consisted of wanting to strangle Matty. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe any of you. My sister’s dead and it’s because you didn’t pull the trigger when you should have.”
A weird smile crept on Matty’s face as she went toe-to-toe with him. “You know what? I don’t care what you believe. I mean, you didn’t even thank me for saving your life. So why would I expect anything more from you? You want to have it out?” she pushed him to where he stumbled backward. “Let’s have it out.”
Jon’s mouth dropped at Matty’s reaction. She had scolded him earlier for not being mindful of Charlie’s feelings for the loss of his sister, and here Matty was, threatening Charlie while his sister lay dead at their feet.
Eddie and Trish backed away, probably knowing what Matty’s wrath looked like having experienced it once in their lives. They didn’t feel like getting into a squabble that didn’t involve them.
Matty slipped her gun from her pants and gave it to Trish, then stood there with her hands open waiting for Charlie to make the first move.
Scanning the group, Charlie’s eyes flooded. Why was he the bad guy in all this? Matty let the creature go. She caused his sister’s death. She made the mess in the room. She was the one who had to pay, not him. He didn’t even know her before she had rescued him from the vent. That was when he wiped his face clean and realized she had a point. As stupid as it sounded, he owed her his life.
“Thanks.” Charlie said.
“No problem.” Matty grabbed her gun from Trish’s hands and slipped it back to where it belonged.
“She was my younger sister and I wouldn’t have thought she would have died before me.”
Matty turned to Eddie who had his eyes on the decapitated head. “We have to give Amber’s body a proper burial.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We might attract unwanted guests.” Eddie said.
“What did you say your name was?” Matty asked.
“Charlie. My name is Charlie.”
