by Deyo, Jason
Kim saw him hesitate. “He’s right in that door. Please look at what Keith did. After you see him I will leave with you; if you don’t believe there is hope for him.”
Mason couldn’t stop. He had the gun, but this woman had control over him. He convinced himself this would all be over soon and then he could leave. He really didn’t want her joining him, but if that is what it would take to get out of the house, he would take her wherever she wanted to go. Examining the shotgun, he looked at Mrs. Kim and flipped the safety off, arming it and revealing the red dot. He nodded to her, letting her know he was now in control and Mrs. Kim nodded submissively in return.
He opened the door slowly and the strong smell of death and decay overwhelmed him. The only light in the room was from a window and from a small dirty skylight. He peered into the shadow-filled room and saw a small figure sitting on a bed, with a dark pillowcase covering its head.
Darkness suddenly engulfed Mason and his knees buckled underneath him. He took two staggering steps into the small room and dropped the shotgun. The room spun and he tried to stop the blackness from consuming him, but the spinning room caused him to fall to one knee. Fighting the temptation to submit, he quickly regained his balance and slowed the room from spinning around him. Instinct made him grab the shotgun, knowing something was wrong. He just couldn’t figure out what had just happened. He did not feel pain, but he did feel a lot of pressure and knew something had struck him on his head. As his fingers examined the pressure, Mason realized the warm liquid pooling on top of his head was his own blood.
Holding onto the small dresser drawer he forced himself to his feet. He turned to face Mrs. Kim. She held the small ballpeen hammer in her hand and a black pistol in the other.
“Bitch…” He was about to say more, but Kim raised Lauren’s pistol and fired a bullet into his stomach. He folded over and dropped in front of the dresser.
He raised the shotgun, but Mrs. Kim stood tall. She looked invincible. He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He racked the fore stock and fired again, but got the same result.
Kim reached into her pocket and pulled out three shells. She had unloaded the shotgun in front of him; as Mason watched his friend get attacked by the ghouls, she loaded and unloaded the gun. Before they had gotten up to eat the ravioli, she had ensured her gun was empty. She felt confident, knowing Lauren’s gun was secure in her waist band.
“Fuck you!” he yelled.
She walked closer to him and fired the pistol, putting a bullet into his right shoulder.
He screamed, “Keith was right, you are fucking crazy!”
“Keith wouldn’t say that…He’s never met me.” She walked past him as he held his stomach, examining his bloody fingers. Kim assisted the small child up and it obediently obeyed. The boy was calm. It was nothing like the creatures outside. The boy under the pillowcase was being guided by its master. “I hope you know I have to do this and this is not personal. A mother has to care for her children. This here is Jimmy, Amelia’s only son. I would do anything for Amelia and him.”
She pulled the pillowcase off, revealing Amelia’s son. Mason let out a yell and then Kim pushed the small boy on him. Mason tried to fight him off, but could barely move his right arm. As he fought the boy, intense pain coursed through his body from the wound in his gut.
Kim stood in the doorway, watching the event.
Jimmy turned to her, revealing perfectly groomed blonde hair and a perfect smile full of pearly white teeth. “Thank you, Mrs. Kim.”
“No problem Jimmy.” Mrs. Kim said out loud.
Mason was initially able to hold the small boy at bay, but was becoming weaker.
“You know Mason. At another time we could have been friends. We seem to have a lot in common. Mason pushed the boy off of him and sat up, just as Kim fired another shot into his right lung. Mason gasped for breath and dropped the shotgun.
“Help me!” he tried to scream, in case anyone was close enough to hear him. “Help!” It came out as a whisper as he struggled to catch his breath.
Kim smiled sadly and then slowly closed the door as the boy climbed back onto his victim. Mason, for the last time, let out one barely audible scream.
Chapter 9
Invited Guests
Mrs. Kim left Jimmy and found Amelia sifting through the clutter on the dining room table. Amelia despised an unkempt home, but current events justified the accumulation of some clutter.
“Let me help you,” Mrs. Kim said as she walked to the table.
Amelia didn’t look at her, but continued to work. “I can do this. It’s the least I can do.” She began to fold and pack the Coleman stove. “You have done so much for us.”
Mrs. Kim grabbed one of the backpacks that sat in the corner. “Where would you like this stuff?” She immediately offered a suggestion. “How about Keith’s man cave? That way we can keep it close by.”
Amelia nodded in agreement.
They continued to clean the living room and remove all evidence of visitors or encounters. All the food put in the cupboards and the weapons were moved to the master bedroom.
“I’m going to see if Jimmy is finished,” Mrs. Kim stated. “If he is, I’ll toss the body out the back window and move him tomorrow morning.”
“We are really lucky to have you,” Amelia said.
“I’m just happy to help. You’ve been through a lot.” Kim smiled.
*****
Mrs. Kim opened her eyes as the sun crested over the horizon. Amelia and Jimmy were sitting at the end of the bed talking. She didn’t say anything and found peace observing. Amelia was hugging her son when, just days before Jimmy had warned her to keep her distance. Now they were embracing. He was bouncing around and they were laughing about something. Kim didn’t know what they were so happy about, but she shared in their enjoyment.
“How is everyone this morning?” Mrs. Kim asked smiling.
Jimmy was surprised to see Mrs. Kim up and crawled up on top of her. “I’m doing so much better now. Thank you so much. I think you will be able to let me out of that room soon.”
“That good, huh?” Kim asked.
“And so much more. That last one put me days ahead of where I should be. A few more and I should be good as new.” He let out a laugh and then scampered back to the end of the bed to join his mother.
Amelia hugged him like she never hugged him before. “Let’s go make some breakfast,” she said, standing up from the bed. “We still have instant pancakes don’t we?” she asked Mrs. Kim.
She shrugged her shoulders, “We can look.”
Kim and Amelia challenged each other to see who could make the best characters out of pancake mix and Jimmy had to judge which one was the best. The only rule was you were not allowed to make Mickey Mouse. Mrs. Kim said that was the easiest pancake character to make and would be considered cheating.
The winner was a very elaborate alligator that Amelia made, compared to a side profile of Sponge Bob Square pants. Jimmy had declared Mrs. Kim’s to be the square equivalent to Mickey Mouse.
The jovial mood turned somber mood as they began to eat breakfast; in their house Keith was always the winner of the pancake challenge.
“You miss your Daddy?” Amelia asked.
Jimmy just nodded in response. He did not show any emotion, which Mrs. Kim found odd.
“He helped me get better. If it wasn’t for him, I couldn’t have been helped. I love you Mom,” he said to Amelia. Suddenly the mood shifted back; Amelia was happy and so was Jimmy.
“Let’s go break out the games. We will have a game day,” Amelia said.
Jimmy was excited as if the previous conversation never happened. They played Connect Four, Jenga, Battle Ship, Guess Who, and games Amelia didn’t even remember they had. Mrs. Kim was astounded by the amount of games in their closet. They continued to play until the sun began to set and Amelia had to light some candles.
A bright moon illuminated the night sky. Amelia retired from looking out the w
indow and settled onto the loveseat. She looked up at her son who was still looking through the curtains. “I love you baby. You are my little man.” She waited for a response, but none came. “Jimmy? You all right?”
“Mom. People are coming.”
Amelia quickly jumped up and returned to her position. She saw four figures walking down the middle of the street. “Are they the bad people?” She studied them.
“No. They were talking to each other a few seconds ago.”
Four silhouettes were making their way down the center of the street. They pointed at things and leaned in close to one another to talk. There was no mistaking these figures for ghouls. These four were definitely alive.
“Mom, I’m getting better, but I could really go for more,” Jimmy stated.
“You want me to get one of them for you? Could this be it?”
“I really would. I can feel myself getting stronger…Like I was before this happened. With each one you bring me, I think I’m getting better.”
“Let me see if Mrs. Kim is ready.”
Mrs. Kim was making her way down the steps before Amelia could call for her. “I heard my name. Is everything okay?”
“Do you want to help me again?”
“Sure, what are we doing?”
Jimmy responded, “There are four people coming up the street.”
“Four,” Mrs. Kim stated. “That might be a challenge. What am I going to do with the others? Should I shoot them and bring one of them up to you while the other three bleed out on the carpet?”
“This may be the last Jimmy needs to become well,” Amelia stated. “We were just talking and he thinks if we continue doing what we’re doing he should be well faster than we expected.”
“Yeah, but what about you and me? That’s four people I’d have to deal with.”
Amelia looked out the window to see how far away they were. “We don’t have much time. Feed them and bring them up, one at a time. Do what you have to do to get them into his room.” She eyed her body. “Use what you have to lure them into the master bedroom. Go put that black lingerie set on and cover yourself with the blue bathrobe.”
Kim hesitated and looked at her as if to say, “Really?”
“It will work. I promise.”
*****
“Oh, hello there.” Mrs. Kim’s voice came from a house the four figures just passed. She was shocked by the sound of her own voice, having not spoken that loudly in many days. The four men appeared to be just as shocked because they responded as if they were about to be assaulted.
The awning covering the porch cast a shadow, blocking the light from the moon and rendering them unable to clearly see where the mysterious voice came from. They were able to see what they assumed was a woman wearing something long like a robe, half leaning out her front door.
Mrs. Kim stepped onto her porch. “Oh come on over, I’m not goin’ to bite ya.” She spoke with a sexy, strong southern accent. She giggled to herself, “I guess that was a little inappropriate,” stepping a little farther away from the metal door but remaining on the porch. “You know, the bite ya part.”
“Good lord woman, are you trying to get us killed?” One of men said, flapping his arms up and down as if he were trying to land an airplane. He was not tall, but looked physically stronger than his three friends.
“I haven’t seen any of those sick people walking around here in days.” Kim paused. “Look, I have some food for you, if you want it. I just need some company, and I’m willing to cook if I can have intelligent conversation for a night.” The tallest of the group began to move toward her and after a few feet, the other three followed. Kim read the tallest man as the leader.
Mrs. Kim stepped to the side, holding the screen door open as they filed past her into the dimly lit living room. She wore the blue bathrobe Amelia had suggested; Amelia had tied the waist and allowed the top to open loosely, revealing a lot of cleavage and the outline of a black bra.
The four men entered the house. The smallest man looked Hispanic. The group was traveling with a tall young man who looked like he was in his early teens. No older than thirteen or fourteen, Mrs. Kim assumed. He stayed close to the Hispanic man indicating to Kim that they might be related, or possibly father and son.
The men didn’t say anything as they entered, so Kim closed the door and politely asked them to have a seat. “Would you like something to drink? Unfortunately all I have is water. I could brew some tea.” She held the thick man’s shoulder as she talked, squeezing past him and the brown suede loveseat under the front window. She smiled widely, trying to make herself more appealing. “I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name’s Kimberly.”
None of the men said anything, so she fetched four plastic multicolored cups filled with water. She could see the thick man sitting on the loveseat, rubbing his throat as he examined the candles. While Kim was getting dressed, or rather undressed, Amelia had lit a new set of candles. The wax was beginning to melt and the many different fragrances began to fill the air. The candles served multiple purposes. One was to provide necessary lighting, but the primary purpose was to mask the scent of Jimmy and his sickness up stairs.
The Hispanic gentleman was sitting next to him, examining the white couch with the embroidered farm scene. The other three did not appear to notice the difference in couches. Kim looked at the carpet to verify that the couch completely covered the bloodstain underneath it. She knew it did, but had to look one more time to reassure herself.
She placed the cups on the coffee table and then handed them individually to each person. “So since I have company and the fireplace is roaring, how ‘bout I start some tea and once that’s done, I’ll put on some food. How’s Campbell’s vegetable soup or beef stew sound? I have some Chef Boyardee ravioli too, if you’d rather have that.” She was talking to all of them, but focused on the teenager when she mentioned the ravioli.
The thick man heard the low moan of a lost zombie coming from down the street. He leaned back and spread the curtains. Seven undead shambled aimlessly in the middle of the road. “So when did you say was the last time you saw a dead person?” he asked quizzically.
Mrs. Kim smiled at him and said, “So, y’all have names?” She walked toward the tall man and sat down on the armrest next to him.
The tall man introduced himself as Dave and then asked, “Is it just you living here?” He took a large drink from his plastic cup.
Kimberly forced a small smile and looked at the boy. “There were three of us that lived here.” The smile disappeared. “My husband Keith and son lil’ Jimmy.”
The teenager spoke up. “My name’s Drew. Thanks for inviting us into your house.” He pointed to a picture on the entertainment center directly across from him. “Is that them?” The picture was of a man with a large smile, hidden behind a dark goatee and five o’clock shadow. Another large smile was spread across the face of a small, blond-haired boy who looked about six or seven.
“Yup, those are my boys. That was taken last year, around this time actually. It’s nice to meet you Drew.” Kim looked at the two gentlemen sitting on the loveseat under the window. She nodded at them, waiting for them to introduce themselves.
The Hispanic man said, “My name is Rod. Short for Rodriguez. Drew’s my son and like he said, thank you for your hospitality. It’s greatly appreciated.”
The thicker man introduced himself as Eric and continued to look out the window.
“Really, we do appreciate it.” Dave looked up at Kim. “We were just discussing breaking into one of these houses and sleeping for the night. Darkness crept up on us pretty quick tonight. It must be getting ready to rain or something.”
Kim shrugged her shoulders. “You really break into people’s homes and sleep? I would be too scared they would come home.” She smiled and held onto Dave’s shoulder.
“No. We’ve never had any homeowners come home to find us sleeping in their beds, but we do walk in on zombies quite often. Sometimes it takes breaking in
to a couple houses before we find the right one to sleep in. If we come across a house that’s infested, we have to leave and maybe travel a few blocks because the zombies hear us and come from all around us to find what made all the commotion.”
“Zombies? You’re not serious are you?” Kim asked.
“If they’re not zombies, I don’t know what to call them,” Dave responded.
Kim rubbed the back of Dave’s neck. “I just think they’re sick people out there. I wouldn’t go as far as calling them zombies. That just seems too Hollywood.” Kim laughed.
Dave chuckled and looked at his companions. They shared an awkward smile.
“Well the tea should be done, so go sit at the table and let me bring up something to eat.” Kim got up and grabbed the collection of horribly scented candles and placed it in the center of the dining room table. She then pulled out a chair, indicating they should sit. “Oh, you guys probably don’t drink tea. I should have offered coffee.”
They all waved their hands and were grateful for the offer of tea. There were four seats around the table and Rod moved his chair closer to Eric, so his back wasn’t directly to the fireplace.
Kim walked over to the crawl space. She was grabbing some cans of food when she heard two of the men talking. She could barely make out what they were saying.
She climbed onto the workbench and put her ear as close to the vent as she could. It sounded like they were whispering, but the man speaking was directly over a vent. Kim could make out Rod’s accent. “So what are you planning?”
“What are you talking about?” Dave said, and began to laugh at the end of his statement.
There was a slight pause before Rod spoke again. “Are you serious?”
“Dude, she’s lonely, so am I. Kind of. What do you think? You saw the way she was rubbing on me,” Dave replied, quietly but not really in a whisper.
“I just think it’s a little early. You have no idea who or what this woman is.”
“No, I know exactly what and who she is. She’s lonely and needs a man’s attention and I’m willing to give it to her.”
