by Deyo, Jason
Keith, knowing Amelia would resist the idea, suggested it anyway purposely not mentioning Tim’s name. “We could go spend some time with my family.”
“You mean Tim.” She did not ask a question, but made a statement.
“It’s probably the best place to let this run its course.”
“I would rather die than have to rely on that man. No. I will not be locked inside a house with…No, it’s not happening.” The volume in her voice began to increase.
He moved closer to his wife. “We don’t need to go, but with Jimmy upstairs and those things running around out there, we may never have the opportunity to get out of here. I’m just saying it may be the safest place to be.” Just then they heard something hit the metal railing of the front porch.
Keith knelt on the loveseat and peeked out the window. An undead neighbor stood on the other side of the railing of the front porch. He was a clean-cut, fit, middle-aged man wearing a florescent green jogging outfit. His face was ash grey. As Keith spread the two curtains the man noticed the movement in the window, spurring his curiosity. The man tried to push his face through the metal bars, pulling back on his already tight features. He reached his arms through the railings trying to reach the movement in the window and began to growl.
Keith turned back to his wife. “You need to keep it quiet. They’re not smart enough to use the stairs, but they are attracted to sound.” He quickly corrected himself. “We need to keep quiet.”
A loud thump from Jimmy’s room made them jump. Jimmy started to moan in response to the growling outside the front window.
“I just hope more of them don’t decide they want what’s in here,” Keith stated. Then he noticed one rounding the house, reacting to the creatures’ groans. “Shit, here comes one.”
Amelia joined Keith on the loveseat. They sat in silence watching from the front window as the wandering ghoul joined the jogger. The second ghoul rocked back and forth with nervous anticipation and periodically moaned. Keith believed that because she did not see him peek out the window, she had no objective other than making a commotion with the first one. They looked down the opposite end of the street and saw three more moving in their direction with purpose.
Keith closed the curtains and stood up. “I have to get them away from the house or they’re going to keep coming.” He grabbed his pistol from the living room table.
“How do you plan on doing that?” Amelia whispered. “Are you going out there?”
“I’m going to go through the back door and see if I can lead them into the woods. I’ll cut through Mrs. Ruth’s yard and run back around her house.” He held onto the pistol as he walked to the back of the house and looked out the back window, scanning the woods. He saw no movement, so he opened the back door. He turned to see if Amelia had joined him, but she had not. She continued watching the undead from the loveseat.
Amelia waited, expecting to see Keith come running around the corner making a big spectacle of himself but she saw nothing, and then she heard a faint whistle. The woman who was rocking back and forth responded to the whistle, but the other one kept clawing and working his face in between the bars.
He whistled again to gain the attention of the ghoul closest to the house, but it did not acknowledge him. The female saw Keith and began to shamble toward him. Desperate, he put his fingers into his mouth and whistled an ear piercing tone. This time the ghoul pulled its face from the metal bars and turned toward the noise, like a dog discovering a new scent. Keith whistled again to keep its attention and began to run.
Amelia watched as the two undead left her property in pursuit of her husband. After seeing Keith, the three undead from down the street moved with a new sense of urgency. She watched them until they passed her neighbor’s house, Mrs. Ruth’s, and were soon out of sight. Several uneasy minutes passed and then she heard the sound of a pistol going off. The sound made her jump and let go of the curtain. Another shot, then another, made her worry. She was no longer concerned with trying not to move the curtain, and placed her head against the glass to try and see as far as possible.
The undead that passed the house moved quickly. She knew Keith could move faster than them, but she began to see more and more come out of homes with broken or open doors, and many began to emerge from the haphazardly parked vehicles. She didn’t understand how he was going to get back to her. She looked at the supplies he had gathered and realized she didn’t know how to use half of the equipment on the table.
Jimmy and Keith would go camping often and she would join once in a blue moon, but she never actually had to do anything. Her job was to sit back, poke the fire with a stick and read magazines on her Kindle. She didn’t know how to light the propane stove or start the skillet. That was Keith’s job. She started to worry not only about Keith’s safety, but also about what she would do without him.
Minutes passed and she went to the back of the house and looked out the kitchen window. She watched as five undead walked along the wood-line at the end of her yard. There was no sign of him, so she went back to the loveseat and peered through the middle of the two curtains. A group of undead numbering in the teens made their way down the street, moaning in search of food; most likely drawn in this direction because of Keith’s whistling. Some moved with dexterity and others stumbled into each other and into parked cars. After looking up and down the street, with no sign of Keith, she returned to the back window.
As she pulled back the window’s curtain, Keith ran up the back porch. He swung the door open and barged in. “Have you seen any?” he asked, slightly out of breath.
“Yeah, there are all kinds of them out there.” She was about to continue her thought, but Keith interrupted.
“How many is all kinds?”
“I don’t know, thirteen, fourteen maybe. Where the hell have you been? What happened?
“I ran around the house and went for the woods, but there were a few coming from down the street.” He pointed in the opposite direction the undead were now traveling. “I really wasn’t prepared for that, so I ran into the woods. There was, like, six or seven, walking along the wood-line in my direction, so I ran deeper in. I lost the few that were originally following me, but six or seven others came in after me. I thought I lost them, but then I saw another one in the woods. This one let out a high-pitched growl and started running. I ran away, back to the houses and ran right into the small group I had lost. I shot one in the chest, but it didn’t fall. It caught its balance and kept moving. I hit another in the chest and it fell, but then got right back up. The third one was right on me. It practically appeared out of nowhere. I shot it in the head. It dropped right away and didn’t get back up.” Keith was very animated and trying to keep his voice down.
He continued. “I literally ran over its body and out of the woods. The one that had the high-pitched growl was moving fast. I think it must have gotten caught in some bushes as I was running on the trail. I didn’t turn around to find out. I ran out of the woods and saw the back door at Mr. and Mrs. Rogerio’s was open, so I ran in and closed the door. I didn’t want to bring them here, so I ran over there.” The Rogerios lived on the other side of Mrs. Ruth.
“Are they okay? Do they need anything?” Amelia asked with true concern.
Keith hesitated. “I don’t know where Mr. Tony is, but I think I know where Mrs. Wanda is.” He didn’t say anything else for a little bit. He didn’t know what to say or even how.
“You can’t do that to me. What do you mean? Where is she? She’s sick isn’t she?” Amelia was a little upset that wasn’t continuing.
“Mrs. Wanda is upstairs in the master bedroom. Mr. Tony is out and about. There were definite signs of a struggle.”
Amelia waited patiently for a second, and then became frustrated that he kept stopping the story. “Fucking tell me.”
“I watched from the back window and made sure none of them saw which house I went into. After watching for several minutes, I started looking through the cabinets and I
found all kinds of food. As soon as I left the kitchen, I noticed signs of a struggle. Small drops of blood were spread throughout the living room on the white carpet. I followed the drops of blood upstairs and found a sign written in black Sharpie that said, “Keep closed. My lovely Bonnie rests quietly.” I know Mrs. Wanda wasn’t resting because as soon as I got to the top of the stairs I could see the shadow of her feet moving back and forth.” He looked Amelia in the eyes. “Mrs. Wanda is one of them. Mr. Tony wasn’t in the house. Maybe that’s why the door was open.”
Amelia was silent. She thought for a few seconds. “She’s sick just like Jimmy?”
“I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I think she was sick and Mr. Tony was taking care of her the same way we were taking care of Jimmy until she got too bad. There are drops of blood leading to or from the master bedroom, so there is a good possibility he was taking care of her in the room and she attacked him. He may have just closed the door and then wrote the message. I bet that’s what happened.” He shrugged a little.
“He stayed with her to the end. The same way we did with Jimmy.” Amelia said.
“Yeah, I hope he’s okay. He was a nice old man.” Keith sat on a barstool at the kitchen island. “I think I’m going to go back to the Rogerio’s and pick up some of the food they had.” Keith put his hand up as if an idea popped into his head. “We still have power.” He pointed to the timer on the stove that shined 7:44 a.m. “The Rogerio’s had their TV on. Have you watched any since you’ve been up?”
“I’ve been worried sick about you. I haven’t touched anything,” she stated defensively.
Without responding, Keith got up, sat on the couch and turned the TV on. The volume was very low, but he was able to make out what was being said. Instead of a broadcaster announcing news, the voice of a very calming woman gave instruction while pictures and videos of events happening around the world were presented. The videos did not have any audio because they would have drowned out the soothing instructions being provided by the woman. She was giving advice about how to preserve food and water, and safety instructions such as stay in your home, seek shelter, do not allow anyone who has been attacked into your home or shelter, and gather batteries and first aid supplies. They watched for a long while taking in the instructions given by the female voice. The voice told them to fill the bathtub with water; Keith couldn’t believe he didn’t think of doing that sooner. They realized the audio clip was a recording that was repeating its self, whereas the videos and pictures did not. The recorded voice stated that the uninfected could become infected with the virus by a bite or from infected bodily fluid entering your blood stream. It repeatedly stated the importance of quarantining any person who has had contact with an infected person.
“Since we have power, we might as well take advantage of it.” He smiled at his wife. “I’m going to fill the tub. That way we have a couple extra gallons of water.” Keith had many water bottles saved in the basement for just this moment. He was a survivalist and was prepared for the day when they would need extra of everything. He did not anticipate or even consider a zombie apocalypse, but had the provisions to last just about anything.
“We will use the water bottles I have saved and rotate them. Once we finish a bottle we will fill it with fresh water. That way we always replenish what we use.” Keith was a provider and this moment gave him a sense of accomplishment. “Once I’m done I’ll bring up that box of cast iron cookware so we can cook over the fire place once the electricity goes out.”
“I’ll make us some breakfast.” Amelia smiled at him, sensing his profound feeling of worth. Amelia had fallen out of love with Keith many years earlier. Keith would tell her he loved her, but she could not allow herself to believe it. She saw Keith holding another woman’s hands while sitting at a diner just outside of town.
Keith’s arms were outstretched over the table, meeting the mistress’ hands in the middle. As soon as Amelia entered the small diner, she recognized Keith’s dirty camouflage hat with a fishhook clip affixed to the brim. Amelia walked in behind him and the other woman. While she approached them, the woman never took her eyes from his. She appeared to be younger, but Amelia knew she hid the lines of age by plastering makeup on and coating her lips with bright red lipstick to distract from the crow’s feet on her eyes. Her long black curly hair hung behind her ears and brushed the top of the table.
The mistress had no idea who Amelia was and was very confused when she stood at the head of the table and looked down at her lunch date. Amelia made a huge spectacle of herself and the two sitting at the table. Apparently the woman was just as surprised as she was because she got up and started screaming at Keith.
She was one of the secretaries at the quarry and put in her two weeks notice that day. She apologized profusely to Amelia, but Amelia couldn’t hear her. All Amelia wanted to do was hurt her and everyone in her way. Keith was the one that prevented her from attacking the other woman. He took a barrage of blows to the face and body until the woman ran away, still apologizing to Amelia and calling Keith a prick as she left.
Keith apologized, but if it weren’t for Jimmy, Amelia would have left a long time ago. The only thing that kept them together was their son. They hadn’t been intimate with each other since the event; Keith hid the fact that he no longer sleeps in the master bedroom with Amelia from his son very well. They are very docile when Jimmy is around, and Amelia never shows what lies beneath her fake smiles and forced hugs.
Keith understands why she feels the way she does, but he loves her. He never had an intimate encounter with the woman and swears Amelia is the only woman he’s been with. He loves Amelia and wants to show her that, but she denies his advances and won’t engage his attempts to make amends.
Sleeping close to him and the sudden change of monotonous life distracted her from her angry thoughts. She didn’t rely on Keith and never cared to have him around, but now he served a purpose. Amelia could see Keith for what he was. Keith was a survivor and a provider. He would do anything to protect his family and she could feel that now.
This was the first time they had stayed together for any real amount of time in years. Amelia could not remember when they actually touched each other throughout the night. It felt good to have him close. She felt protected and Keith could feel her comfort with him. She wanted him close and needed him more than ever. “What would you like?” she asked.
“We need to eat those eggs.”
“Omelet it is then. I think I remember how you like them.” She smiled and walked to the refrigerator.
*****
Keith approached the stairs quietly and paused to listen. Jimmy stopped groaning and pacing shortly after Keith guided the undead away from their house. Satisfied that he was still, he eased his weight onto the first step. He moved as if he were stalking a deer, taking one concentrated step after another. Taking a few more steps closer to his son, he was able to hear periodic growling, coupled with low constant moaning. He knew which of his steps would creak, but he somehow always managed to step on that one squeaky spot. As soon as he put his weight down on the squeaky step, Jimmy changed his constant moan to a growl. He knew someone was close and he was excited. The growl was feral, as if some type of wild animal was making it, not an eight-year-old boy.
Keith stopped at the top of the stairs and studied his son’s bedroom door, listening to the animal that used to be his son. He took a few steps backwards into the bathroom directly across the hall from Jimmy’s bedroom. He slowly closed the toilet lid, trying not to make a sound, and sat down on it.
The tub stop had not been used for many months and was hard to pull up. He slowly ran the cold water, letting it out slowly to try to minimize the sound, but now Jimmy knew someone was right outside his room and he pounded on the small door. Keith let it run a little more and realized it didn’t matter how fast he let the water flow or how much noise he made; he had disturbed his son and he was now in a full frenzy. He let the water fill the tub at full force
and then ran his fingers through the water. Keith averted his eyes from his son’s door.
“I’m so sorry buddy.” He put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, looking at the black and white tiles of the bathroom floor. The smell of omelets was making its way up the stairs. “I don’t know what to do.” He sat silent for a few minutes and the pounding began to slow. Keith looked up to the door and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
“I wish we got to spend more time together. I wish I didn’t spend so much time at work.” His tears began to grow in size and number, as he spoke in a shallow whisper only he could hear. “I wish I told you I loved you more. You are the best son I could have asked for.” He looked back at the door. Jimmy had stopped beating on the door and was now quietly growling. The growl sounded more distant, like he had walked away from the door.
“I wanted so much for you. I was hoping to be a granddad. I would probably be a better Pop Pop than a father. I should have taken you fishing more. You love fishing, but I couldn’t find the time. I didn’t make time. I should have.” He stood up and walked to the top of the stairs, paused, and then walked to his son’s door and touched it. “God please help my son. Please I beg of you please let him be my little boy again.” He wanted to believe that his son would change—that somehow by hearing his voice, God would grant a miracle and instantly turn him back to the son he loved. “I love you bud. I love you so much,” he said, as if he were talking with him through the door.
Keith heard the sound of shuffling feet move toward the door, followed by another growl mixed with a low screech, and then Jimmy hit the door. He instantly knew staying in the house was not an option. He could not be here with the small monster his son had become.
