by Mark Tufo
“Why aren’t they coming after us?” Tracy asked more surprised than anything.
I had been asking myself that same question. Sure, some of the zombies looked our way occasionally, especially the ones that were closest. But they couldn’t have cared less if I got on my knees and poured A-1 on the top of my head, at least I think. I’m not willing to truth check that statement.
I thought carefully before I answered. “I think they’re pissed off.” That was the only thing that seemed to make sense. Before Tracy could ask for clarification, I continued. “I mean, look at them,” pointing towards the zombies, “obviously the people on the roof are potential food for them, but hell, we’re a lot closer. I think that pellet gun is irritating them to no end.”
“Can they be mad? Do they even have emotions?” Tracy asked.
“Umm, Hon, you’ve known about the zombies for thirty seconds longer than I have. It’s only a theory. Maybe they can’t smell us over the exhaust of the car. Let’s just keep the windows rolled up in the meantime.” This time no one argued.
I drove around to the side of the building where I had motioned Justin to meet us. He was peering over the edge when we pulled up.
I rolled down the window. “Justin, is there a way down?” I yelled.
Almost instantly, two zombies began to shuffle our way. In life they most likely were twins, albeit not like the kind you see in the Doublemint commercials. Both were more than two hundred pounds, wearing midriff shirts that showed off their expanding muffin tops. Whereas the sister on the left was wearing purple spandex, her twin on the right was adorned in the much classier Daisy Duke shorts. Normally this would have been a vision hopefully never to behold; but now, with their purple mottled flesh and fresh pus oozing out of every orifice, I nearly gagged. You have to love Walmart customers. I don’t know if it was the noise or the smell of a meal that had them coming my way. My guess was the promise of food. These two didn’t ever look like they passed up a chance at something to eat.
“Yeah, through the sprinkler room, but that’s on the far side of the store,” Justin answered.
“Travis, keep an eye on the double-fat twins over there,” I said nervously. I tore my glance from the approaching horrors. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. “You won’t be able to get out the front. If you went back downstairs, could you go out an emergency exit?” I yelled.
“No, those things are in the stairwell leading up here. We can hear them banging against the door,” he replied.
“Any ladders up there?” I asked.
“No, but there’s a ladder section over by household goods,” he answered helpfully—or at least he thought so.
“Yeah…that’s not going to work so much,” I replied, remembering the hundred or so zombies still shopping for blue-light specials. We were at an impasse.
“Dad!” Justin yelled.
Travis appended the point by blasting a round through the Mossberg. Muffin Top One in the spandex went down in a heap, most of her belly liquefied by the impact of the pellets. Her sister screeched. I’m not even sure that’s the right adjective. It was an inhuman sound. Something only dead, taut, rigor mortis-induced vocal chords could produce. Travis almost dropped the shotgun out the window. Tracy and I could only stare in frightened bewilderment. But what came next stunned me even more. Daisy Dukes Girl didn’t help her fallen sister up, but rather, she waited until the other one got up of her own accord. The wound was fatal, but fatality only applies to the living. I could see what I had at first thought were maggots roiling around in and about her guts, but at an inch or so long, these weren’t any ordinary maggots. They were worms of some sort. And I could tell from looking at the size of Spandex Girl that these weren’t tapeworms.
Those things had to be the cause of whatever was going on here, but I wasn’t a biologist. I stepped out of the Jeep with my M-16 and emptied a magazine into the two women. Most of my shots didn’t even hit the desired target, but I only needed one round in each of their heads for the job to be done. At fifteen shots a zombie we wouldn’t make it through the night. I turned the selector lever on the M-16 from ‘automatic’ to ‘single;’ my hands looked like I suffered from a severe case of palsy.
“Dad!” Justin yelled again.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off the two women I’d shot. Their fat was still jiggling from their impact with the ground, or was it the worms? I turned and puked. There wasn’t much to it; I hadn’t had a chance to eat dinner.
“Yeah?” I answered Justin as I stood back up, dragging my sleeve across my mouth. The metallic, acidic taste in my mouth did little to contain the storm brewing in my stomach.
“There’s a ladder in the docking bay,” Justin responded eagerly. Thank God I had something else to think about other than this macabre scene behind me.
“Is it going to be tall enough?” I asked, looking into the car to see how everyone else was doing. Travis had pulled the shotgun in and rolled the window back up, but he still couldn’t stop from looking at the carnage a mere ten feet away. Tracy had lit up a cigarette. Where she found it I have no clue. She HAD quit almost six months ago.
I didn’t think now was the time to berate her for the infraction. If she had another one I would have taken it right there and then, and I had never smoked.
Justin shrugged in response to my question. “They use it for maintenance around the building, it should be,” he replied without much conviction. It wasn’t the definitive answer I was looking for, but it was what I had.
“All right, you follow us on the roof and keep a look out.”
Justin pulled back from the edge in response. I got back in the car, handing the empty magazine to Travis. “Could you please hand me a loaded magazine and reload this one?” I asked him, my hand a little more under control. Now I only looked like I had Jell-O for a wrist.
I know he was only trying to help, but when Travis said “Dad, you know you should take it easy on the ammo.” I almost snapped. I’d probably still be there chewing him a new one if I had ever gotten started.
I put the Jeep in gear, mumbled something to the effect of ‘smart-ass kid’ and left it at that. Tracy was hot boxing her cigarette. If there was a Guinness record for downing a smoke, she was sure challenging that mark. I drove the Jeep to the west side of the building and around to the back. When I got to the rear of the building, I was relieved and apprehensive at the same time. Relieved because there were no zombies around, but apprehensive for a couple of reasons: The first reason being that the dock was bathed in darkness. I couldn’t see more than two feet into the store. I don’t think zombies have the ability to lay a trap but if they did this was the perfect set-up. My other concern was the overturned semi; it looked as if it had been strategically placed to entirely block off the other entrance into the docks. That meant that, by car at least, there was only one way in and one way out. It was a narrow entrance, maybe twelve feet across. A six-foot high retaining wall ran along the parking lot directly opposite the building. Running on foot was always a choice, but I’d witnessed firsthand the success rate of those on the ground.
Chapter 4
Journal Entry – 4
* * *
“Tracy, you stay in the car,” I said as I got out.
“Yeah, that won’t be a problem,” she answered, dark circles forming under her eyes.
If I had a chance to get to a mirror, I could probably witness the same thing happening to me. My life had only been turned upside down for less than an hour, and I already felt like my soul was wrung out.
“Okay,” I responded. “But I meant more in the driver’s seat with the car running.” Was that degree of explanation needed? I don’t know, but I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
“Travis, you’re going to have to come with me,” I let him know. He didn’t seem thrilled with the prospect at all, but he knew what he had to do.
His mother, however, let me know how she felt. “You can’t!” she yelled.
; Travis rushed to my defense. “Mom, Dad needs my help.”
“He can do it on his own,” she retorted. “You’re my baby!”
“Hon—” I started.
“You shut up!” she spat fiercely. “Travis is my baby, he’s my flesh and blood!”
“And who am I!” I yelled back.
“You’re just some guy I met!” she retorted.
I physically felt like someone had swung a hammer at my stomach and connected. The feeling was that intense. I was dumbfounded. I staggered back as if the blow had been physical and not metaphorical. Right now, running into the midst of the zombies seemed like a viable proposition.
Tracy watched my eyes hollow out. “I’m…I’m sorry,” she cried. She knew she had gone too far.
I turned and headed to the darkness of the truck bay. It mirrored my feelings exactly. Travis got out the car. Tracy motioned to him, but thought better of making any more comments. I heard the car door shut softly behind me; my back-up was on the way.
I hopped up onto the loading dock and turned to lend Travis a hand up. I turned on my small flashlight attached to my rifle (back to the whole ‘survivalist’ aspect). It couldn’t penetrate more than twenty or so feet into the murkiness—except for the occasional upturned box, it seemed we were alone. That was a vast relief, because I knew if that shotgun went off, Tracy would be up here in a flash and our only means of a hasty escape would be unmanned. Shit, the dock was huge. I should have found out in what general direction I should be heading towards. I wanted to go outside and ask Justin, but the thought of yelling back and forth, and thus, ringing the dinner bell for some unwelcome guests kept me inside. There was that, and I also had the sinking feeling that time was running out. Time felt oppressive; each second that ticked off added weight to the unseen burden I was carrying.
“Dad, sweep the light back to the right, I thought I saw a glint,” Travis said.
I slowly panned the flashlight to the right. I did catch a flash of light. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the glint of an aluminum ladder. It was a watch, and even from this distance I could tell it was expensive.
“Oh why couldn’t this be a natural disaster,” I moaned to myself.
I was surrounded by flat screen TVs and Xbox 360s, and some dead dude’s Rolex. That brought me back quick; attached to the watch was a three-quarters eaten employee of the store, probably a manager by the looks of the watch. As we stepped closer, we could clearly see the small girl child that was chewing through his head.
Well at least he won’t be coming back, I thought irrelevantly. The light struck her in the face and she looked up immediately. Malevolence creased her young features, almost as if to say ‘I’ll deal with you two after I’m finished here,’ and then she turned back to the task at hand.
Travis and I stopped, and he raised the Mossberg. I pushed my hand down on the barrel and shook my head no. First off, she wasn’t attacking us, and I didn’t want the noise to bring any others; and second, the thought of killing a child—even a child that had nothing of humanity left in her—just didn’t sit right. But that look…it was predatory. She knew what she was doing, and she was enjoying it! God help us! God help us all!
We moved further down the bay, always aware of what was happening to our right, but the steady slurping of blood and the crunch of bone and cartilage stayed constant. We reached the far end of the bay before we came up on the ladder. It was a big ladder, but I didn’t think it was going to telescope out to the top of the roof, which I figured to be about thirty-five feet.
“All right, Trav, I’m going to grab the ladder. You’re going to have to cover us,” I said as I slung my M-16 over my shoulder.
The ladder made a loud clanging noise as I pulled it off its hooks. The sound nearly made me drop it. My nerves were on edge and my senses were firing on all cylinders. Travis was tense and his senses appeared heightened, but he didn’t seem any worse for the wear. We slowly made our way back towards the open bay we had come in through. When we were near where I thought the little girl was, I strained my ears to hear the telltale signs of a zombie eating. It was not a delicate affair. Nothing, I heard nothing. A cold chill, no scratch that, an arctic blast crept down my spine. I knew she was closing in, and somehow she was avoiding Travis’ sweeps with the flashlight. And then I felt her cold touch against the back part of my leg. I tried to scream, I’m not proud of that, but what came out was more like a strangled gurgle. There was no way I was going to be able to drop the ladder and turn around quick enough to defend myself. I waited for the pain of gnashing teeth clamping down on my calf.
I looked up to Travis hoping that he had heard my gurgle for help; maybe he already had a bead on her and I could be saved the fate of being dessert for some undead tweenie. But the gods were not aligned with me. Travis wasn’t even looking my way. He had the light and the shotgun pointed off to our left where the little monster was now chewing her way through what was left of the manager’s spinal column. I chanced a look behind me. What I saw would have blanched my face bone-white if not for the fact that blood was now flowing into my face. Relief and embarrassment commingled as I pulled the ladder’s guide wire back up and wrapped it around one of the rungs.
“Dad, you all right back there?” Travis asked as his gun never wavered off the scene he was looking at.
“Ugh...” I started off brightly. “Yep.” I wanted to add more, but a large chunk of self-loathing was stuck in my throat.
We were close to exiting when Tracy hit the horn. It wasn’t a long blast, but it scared the crap out of me. This time I dropped the ladder, which rattled Travis. His gun fired, taking out a piece of meat still left on Mr. Department Manager who would never get the chance to realize his dream of mediocrity and middle management. Some of the shots peppered the little girl in the face, sinking into the soft flesh. Her left cheek sloughed off from the assault, exposing tiny baby teeth stained red and encrusted with the gore of her meal. She rose to meet this new threat; the sight left a lasting mark on me that still haunts most of my nights. In her right hand she dragged what appeared to be her dolly, a remnant from her past life. Did she just not have the mental capacity to let go of the dregs from her previous existence? Was there somewhere deep down in the nether-lands of her pillaged soul, some last hold out? I wanted to know.
Travis didn’t. He blew her head off. Her small body, adorned in possibly her favorite blue dress, stood for perhaps a heartbeat longer before she crumpled to the floor atop her last meal still clutching the doll. For all intents and purposes, if you took the blood away, it looked like a happy embrace between a father and his daughter. I launched something from my stomach. What it was I’ll never know, because I was empty. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if I had hacked up a kidney.
Travis looked a little green around the gills, but he wasn’t suffering the effects nearly as bad as I was. I stood back up, grabbed the ladder, and headed out into the night. There was nothing more in there I EVER wanted to see again. I stepped down from the loading bay. The night seemed blindingly bright after the darkness we had just left, both literally and figuratively. Travis motioned with his gun to indicate what Tracy had beeped her horn about. Coming around the corner was a lone zombie. He was still a hundred yards away and didn’t seem like a huge threat at the moment, but I was getting the sneaky suspicion this was not going to end well. Tracy was gesturing wildly in the car.
“I know, we see it too,” I stage-whispered to her. It amazed me that I was already starting to call them ‘ITS’ instead of ‘THEMS.’ “It” seemed such an impersonal word to describe what was once a human, but it was much easier this way.
I was extending the ladder out and preparing to stand it up when I heard a voice from above. No, unfortunately it wasn’t THAT voice from above.
“Dad!” Justin said, a little more loudly than I would have hoped. I looked up to acknowledge him. “We’re about to have some company,” he finished.
“Yeah, we saw it,” I replied as I str
uggled to get the ladder in position.
“Yeah, no,” came his cryptic reply. “I mean there’s about a dozen of them heading this way.”
A sweat broke out on my forehead, and it was only partially because of the exertion. “How much time?” I grunted. The ladder was in place and it was a good ten feet short from the top.
“A couple of minutes at the most,” he riposted.
“Oh great! This just gets better and better!” Things just were not going as planned. And then I full out laughed. Maybe I was close to the edge, I don’t know, but it was a laugh I could have lost myself in. Who the hell PLANS for this! I finished with my semi-hysterical outbreak, thankful for the relief it spawned.
“Dad? You all right?” Justin asked.
“I’m as good as I’m going to get,” I retorted. “Get somebody, preferably two people, to come and help you.”
He looked at me quizzically.
“They are going to have to lower you over the edge and you’re going to have to drop to the ladder.”
“No fu—” he started. “I mean NO way, that’s gotta be a twenty foot drop to the ladder. I’ll never make it.”
“It’s twelve feet max,” I told him. “You’ll be fine.”
“I don’t know about this,” he hedged.
“Justin, we don’t have time to argue, you either get on the ladder within the next minute or so, or we have to leave.” I forced the issue.
I could see Justin mentally began to weigh his choices. I wasn’t prepared to let him prioritize.
“Justin,” I started, “so I know you have beer and a pellet gun…plus you have a safe haven.” I could see him nodding, he was thinking the same thing. Then I started with the negatives. “How much food do you have?” I asked.
“Food?” was his response.
“Yeah you know, the stuff you put in your mouth, chew, and swallow,” I answered. I was being on the dickish side but I didn’t have time for diplomacy, the first zombie was within twenty yards and his teammates were now rounding the bend.
