by Jake Bible
"We all ate the salami and aren't smelling like a dead horse," Antoinette says. "You got something wrong inside you."
"That's what they tell me," I say. Then fart again.
"Dammit, El," Steph growls. "We're gonna make you get out of the huddle if you keep doing that."
"Farts are part of life," I say. "Do not banish life because you cannot handle the stink of it."
"That sounds like Greta," Marcie says. "You need to stop listening to Greta. She's constantly fucking with you, you know?"
"Yeah," I reply. "I know. It's our game."
We all drift off to sleep, the sound of the Zs down below like a scary lullaby. Not too scary since I can whoop Z ass when I want to, but it ain't soothing like Stella singing a song or anything.
I miss Stella too. She was kind and strong and smart and kicked Long Pork's ass when it needed to be kicked which was like all the time because he was so annoying and stupid sometimes but other times he wasn't and I miss him just as much.
Whew. That was a long thought. Need to take a brain breath.
I dream. Old times when I was a girl. Standing in a white dress as my mother, that evil bitch, presents me to someone. He's tall and thin and has a long scar from his right eye down to his jaw line. He doesn't smile at me. He doesn't say anything. My mother is talking, that evil bitch, and she's saying something to the man, but I can't hear the words. I know she's talking because you just know stuffs in dreams, but I can't hear the stupid words.
Stupid, stupid words.
He nods to my mother and reaches down for my hand. I don't want to give it to him. His hand is more scarred than his face. It's all warped and gross and the skin looks like it's made of that doughy play stuff that's bright colors. Can't remember the name of it. It's dough you play with. Fuck! What's it called?
He has my hand. I didn't give it to him, stupid dream. Stupid, stupid dream.
We're walking away from my mother, that evil bitch. She waves to me then turns and goes inside our house. It's a big house. Mansion. Not like the Biltmore where I met the sisters for the first time after we were separated. Not that big. But big. Half a Biltmore?
Mother is gone, that evil bitch, and I'm all alone with the scarred man. He's talking to me now, but I can't hear the words. I hate this dream. Stupid, stupid dream. The words are like dumb butterflies that float off in the air. I see them. They don't have wings like butterflies because words can't have wings. That would be weird. Words with wings would be weird.
He keeps talking, I watch the words fly off, he takes me into the garden that was at the end of the backyard at my old house. I see roses and they laugh at me. I'd punch the roses, maybe lop their heads off like Zs, but I can't because I'm not me in the dream, I'm the little girl me. If I was me now in the dream, I'd so kick those laughing roses' asses.
But not me now, I'm her then. Me then. Whatever then. Scarred guy leads me to a fountain and points. Does the ugly bastard want me to get in the fountain? No thank you and please. Not happening. The water is gross and yucky. Dream me has a white dress on. Gross yucky water and white dresses don't go together. Even I know that.
He points again, his scarred face getting angry. Well, fuck him. Not getting in the water. He grabs me, picks me up, but the dream me is too small to do anything. The guy is really strong. I shout at him, but I don't shout because little girl dream me can't shout. Fucking pussy. Before I can stop him, I'm flying through the air, grabbing at the words, hoping they'll help me. But stupid flying words don't help me and I land in the yucky fountain water.
Kersplash.
My head goes under and I sink fast. The fountain is deep because it's a stupid dream fountain. I sink and sink and sink and finally hit the bottom. Everyone I've ever known is there. All the dead people. No living people, just dead people. I know a lot of dead people. They stand up, not caring about the yucky water at all, and walk over to me. Some of the dead people open their mouths. Nasty-looking teeth. Bitey teeth.
So it's gonna be one of those dreams, is it? Fuck that.
I stand up too, but now I'm the now me, not the dream me because fuck this dream and fuck these dead people I know and fuck getting my little dream girl white dress dirty and shit.
I reach for my blades, but they aren't there. That's not like me. I always have my blades. Even when I'm riding John back at the Stronghold, my blades are within reach. Freaks him out sometimes, but that's the price you pay for fun in the sack with Elsbeth. Heeya!
The dead people I know get closer and I ball up my fists. I think for a second that it's strange I can breathe under water, but it's a dream so I guess it's not that strange. The dead people get to me and I let those fists fly. I hit one smack in the jaw and half its face goes away. Just dissolves in the water like honey in tea.
I like honey in my tea.
The next dead person screams at me, but it's all bubbles and shit. I probably wouldn't hear the words anyway. It's a dumb dream. I kick her in the stomach and she rips in half as her belly dissolves away too.
More dead people. More punching and kicking until they are all gone. The bits that don't dissolve float to the top of the fountain, but that's so far up I can't see it anymore. Just a bright dot, way, way, way above my head. Stupid bright dot.
"Elsbeth."
I spin about.
"Who's there?" I ask.
"Oh, knock it off."
I feel a slap and my eyes pop open.
Marcie.
"You were dreaming again and you punched Steph in the tit," Marcie says.
I rub at my eyes and look over at Steph. She's rubbing her left tit.
"Sorry," I say.
"You are on overwatch tonight," Steph says. "Audrey gets to huddle with us if we're still outside. I am not getting punched in the tit by you anymore, El."
"I said I was sorry," I say and stand up. "Gotta pee."
"Over there," Antoinette says and points to a corner of the roof. "We've already gone. Don't step in the pee."
"I know how it works," I say.
"You don't have to wake up grumpy every morning," Antoinette says and starts rummaging in her pack for breakfast. "Be nice or no apples for you."
"Got my own apples," I say.
"Nope," she smiles. "I snagged all the apples because I knew you'd be grumpy."
"Sneaky twat," I say, but I'm smiling.
Sisters call each other twats. It's funny.
I drop my pants and have a wonderful piss. Nothing beats a good piss first thing in the morning even if it is cold as hell and my butt cheeks start to shiver. I do that little ass shake thing and pull up my pants. This is important. Pay attention. My belt buckle won't buckle right, so I start getting mad at it and stomp around the roof. I almost step in my piss then almost step in my sisters' piss and end up doing this hop jump thing over the puddles.
When I land, my foot goes through the roof and I'm stuck up to my knee.
"Shitfuck," I bitch as I forget my stupid belt and yank at my leg. "Hey! I'm stuck!"
"Keep it down," Steph snaps. "You'll get the Zs riled up."
Everyone comes over to me and I see them start to laugh. Then I see them stop starting to laugh. Then I see them hurry backwards as a crack in the roof spreads from my leg all the way across to the far side. Their eyes go wide, my eyes go wide, everyone freezes for that little second.
Then they jump into action. Antoinette flings herself at me, forgetting about the piss puddles between us, and reaches out as far as she can. I grab her hand as Steph grabs Antoinette and Marcie grabs Steph. They pull, but the roof is already cracking too much and my other leg drops down into the building. Antoinette is shouting at me, but like in my dream, I can't hear her words.
Why?
Because all I hear are Zs growling and moaning and hissing. A whole bunch of asshole Zs right below me. In the building I'm about to fall into. Stupid asshole Zs.
I reach for one of my blades with my free hand and then the dream shit gets real. My blades are sitting by m
y pack where we'd all slept. All the way across the roof. Stupid asshole blades.
"Hold on!" Antoinette shouts.
"I'm doing that!" I shout back. "Say something helpful!"
"Fuck you!" she yells.
"You too!" I yell back.
The roof cracks more and I start to fall. I can see the crack spreading to Antoinette. If I go down and she doesn't let go then she goes down with me. Can't have that. Sisters don't let sisters go down. She's probably thinking the same thing because when I let go, she grabs me with her other hand.
"No," I say and shake my head. "I got this. Get off the roof and help me from below."
"There are too many Zs below!" Antoinette shouts. "I'm not letting go!"
"Come in from one of the windows," I say, all cool and casual because what else are you gonna do when you're shitfucked like this. "Let. Go."
"Do it," Steph says.
Antoinette starts to argue, but the roof buckles and the crack hits her right in the chest. She lets go.
I fall fast and hit hard. Nothing broken, I know that right away. You don't live in the zombie apocalypse without being super aware of your body. Plus, all that secret conditioning and whatever else Kramer did to us.
I get to my feet and spin about, the morning light just gloomy bullshit through the dirty windows of the room. It's an apartment. Was an apartment. I'm in a bedroom. With a few Zs.
Five Zs. Two women, two men, and a little girl. In a white dress. Was a white dress. All gross now. They come at me, but they're slow and barely held together by spit and shit and goo.
The first woman reaches me and I punch through her head. My fist squishes her rotten brains right out the back of her crumbly skull. That Z drops and I kick out against the first man that's near me. My foot sinks through his chest instead of knocking him back. Great. Now my foot is stuck in a Z's ribcage.
No matter. I can handle this.
I wait for the second woman to reach me and I rip her arms off then jam one into her brain and the other into the brain of the guy holding my foot hostage in his stupid ribcage. She falls, he falls, my foot comes free, and I stand there staring at the last man and the little girl.
The last man shuffles so slow that I yawn. I do. He's boring. I rip his arms off and stab him in the head with one then start to stab the little girl, but stop.
Her skin is grey and just strips falling off her face and neck, but she's got this cute little waddle. I bet she wasn't even six when she died and came back.
"El!" Marcie calls from up on the roof.
"Yeah!" I reply. "I'm good!"
"We're going down the fire escape to find a window we can use to come get you!" she yells.
"Don't bother!" I yell back. "Only a few Zs here! I killed them! I'll find a way out and meet you on the fire escape!"
"You sure?" she asks.
"I'm sure," I say.
"Okay," she says, but doesn't sound convinced. "Hurry. The Zs in the streets are getting thick again!"
"Yeah, yeah, thick Zs, got it," I say and take a deep breath.
The air is dusty and smells like dead shit. The little girl is almost to me, her arms out like she wants to be picked up. She doesn't really want to be picked up. She wants to eat my ass. I stare at the arm still in my hand and the splintered bone at the end. I should jam it right in her eye socket and call it a morning.
But I don't. I can't. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm Elsbeth. I kill Zs. It's what I fucking do. Why can't I kill this one?
"Fuck you," I say and let the arm drop.
I go to the bedroom door and start shoving away the furniture and stuff that's piled in front of it. I hear her little feet scraping across the floor, but I don't turn around. I'll know when she's too close. I always do.
The furniture is out of the way and I grab the door handle. Then stop. Noises. Groaning noises. Shuffling noises. Are there more Zs in the apartment? Did they trap these people in here and then stick around even after the people died? That's dick. Zs are dicks.
I pull the door open, take a look around, see what I'm up against, then close the door.
I pick up the dropped arm, kick the little girl in the face, she falls on her ass, I jam the bone into her brain, and that's that. I ain't got time to deal with sentimental bullshit like some little girl Z. It's sad and shit, but fuck her anyway. I have real problems.
Like about fifty Zs out in the apartment that now know I'm in this bedroom.
I throw the furniture back up against the door as the old wood starts to splinter and crack. It's not really wood, but that fake wood shit they made doors out of in cheap apartments. How many people got killed because of cheap assholes that couldn't be bothered to buy real doors? Fucking assholes. People suck. I hope those assholes got their dicks eaten off.
The roof above me splits even more and quite a few chunks of it come falling down around me. One chunk hits my shoulder and I cry out as some spike or something jabs itself into my arm. Great. Just great. I probably have the tetanus now and will get lockjaw. I won't get night vision because I already kind of have that from Kramer's genetic cocktails and shit. But lockjaw will suck. I hate drinking through straws.
I pull my shirt aside and look at the wound in my shoulder. It's a nasty gash. Deep and ragged. I take my shirt off and tear one of the sleeves into strips. I wrap the gash and stand there in my tank top, looking from the broken ceiling to the bedroom door and back.
Windows.
I move to them and try to open one. It's stuck tight. I break the fuck out of it then jam my head and shoulders through. No fire escape. Wrong side of the building. But lots of Zs in the street below. I flip them off then move back into the bedroom.
The door is giving way and I can see Z hands shoving at the furniture barricade. The Zs are all so thin and scrawny that it takes all fifty pushing at once to even move the furniture an inch. But the fuckers have all the time in the world. One inch will be two inches will be three inches and so on and so on and shit.
What to do, what to do…
I close my eyes and think for a second, visualizing where I am.
The roof above split open at the corner. I fell into a bedroom. A corner bedroom. Two walls face the street. One wall has a door with a bunch of Zs trying to get through. What's up with the fourth wall?
There's a heavy floor lamp in the corner, one of those brass and iron things with a base filled with sand or something. I pick it up and test the weight in my hands then swing hard against the fourth wall. It goes right through and plaster dust and mold yuck stuffs poof out around my head. I keep smashing until there is an Elsbeth-size hole. I almost throw the lamp away, but keep it because it's a heavy lamp made of iron and brass. Only stupid people throw away a heavy lamp made of iron and brass in the zombie apocalypse.
I get through the hole and stop fast. It's a bathroom. A bathroom with no floor. I look down and see all the way to the bottom of the building. By the smell and all the black mold stains still hanging out, it looks like the plumbing leaked and the floor just rotted out. Took the toilet with it.
I can see that all the apartments are the same in the building because it's nothing but broken bathrooms all the way down. Bathrooms with holes. I take a step and I'll go for a big fall.
The bathtub is across from me. Maybe four feet? Five feet? I say five feet. I can jump five feet. Shit, I can jump way more than five feet.
I throw the lamp into the tub and it clangs really, really loud. The moans outside the bedroom shift and Z hands start hitting the bathroom door. That's a door that doesn't have a furniture barricade. I don't have much time. I got to get into the tub and break through the next wall before they break in and get in my way.
I jump and land hard in the tub. The lamp jams me in the side and I cry out as I feel a rib bruise. I heal fast, it'll be nothing in a day or so, but bruised ribs suck and now I have one plus a gashy arm. It's a shitty morning so far.
The bathroom door cracks open and like six Zs go falling through the ho
le in the floor as their buddies shove them from behind. I'm out of reach in the tub, so I do what feels natural. I raise both hands and flip them off. Then I pick up the lamp and get ready to swing at the wall and get through to the next room.
Before I can swing, the tub starts to tilt. I look down and see some of the Zs clinging to the edge, trying to pull up and get at my sweet ass. I slam the base of the lamp into their faces and they go tumbling away. Bye bye, Zs. Dumb fuckers.
I get back to work, start to swing, but stop again as the tub tilts more. There is a really loud groan and it's not from the Zs. The tub lurches, shakes, lurches again.
Then breaks off from the wall and falls. With me in it.
Shitfuck.
Chapter Three
I scream. Anyone would scream when they are standing in a falling bathtub that is slamming through rotten apartments all the way to a very dark basement. A very dark basement that has quite a few Zs in it. I know they're there because I watched them fall through the bathroom hole.
Can't worry about them now. I gotta worry about me.
I collapse into the tub as it hits the next floor. It almost flips, but bangs against the far wall and stays upright with me in it. I hit another floor and another floor, tearing through the wood studs like they are paper. Which they kind of are. I don't know science like Charlie does, but I know that if wood gets really wet then gets really dry, it's gonna turn into shit. This whole building is shit.
The tub smacks through two more floors then hits the basement floor. Which is concrete. That shit hurts. Really hurts.
I gasp and gasp as my lungs fight for air. All the wind got knocked out of me when the tub hit. I don't know where the wind goes, but it sure as fuck doesn't stay in my chest. Fuck. I finally get some breath in, but it tastes like Z and dusty rot. I choke and cough then push myself up and look around.
Yeah, it's a really dark basement. I can only see for a couple of feet around me. There are some Zs, but they are all broken. My bathtub crushed a few. Good for the bathtub. I hear the sound of shuffling feet and know right away that Zs are already down here. Some assholes didn't get crushed by my bathtub and didn't fall five stories and break all apart.
