“Hello? Rory?”
Rory panted into the phone, his chest rising and falling. “H-Hooper,” he stammered.
“Rory, listen to me! Turn on the news; there are outbreaks happening all over the country! It’s just like at the lake but these bodies seem to be reanimating from hospitals and morgues, even some graveyards.” The sheriff took a deep breath and yelled something to someone in the background and then returned to the phone. “I don’t think they’re waterborne.” Quiet took the line. “Rory? You still there?”
Teardrops rolled down Rory’s cheeks, diving into the bloody pool below. “She’s dead,” he whispered.
A thunderstruck silence followed. Someone in the background yelled something about the Internet being down. More voices called out frantic words that Rory couldn’t understand and didn’t care to.
“Who’s dead?”
Rory inhaled a deep breath that made a high-pitched wheezing sound. “Rachel,” he said grimly. “One of those…things got her.”
Someone yelled something about a key to the machine guns. Hooper didn’t answer them. The silence was as contagious as whatever was causing the dead to come back to life out there.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “Lunderman! Cole! I want you both at Allan’s Funeral Home right now!” There was a commotion like someone knocked over a vase and then Hooper’s heavy breathing came back on the line. “Rory?”
Rory stared at Rachel through helpless eyes, studying her from head to toe and back again. She had closed her eyes and stopped twitching and he was all but certain she had also stopped breathing. He squeezed her hand without response. Grudgingly, his hand left hers and disappeared into his pocket. The ring came back out with his hand, clear snot streaming from his nose and stretching to the floor.
“Rory?”
With one hand, he cracked the box open and stared at the chocolate diamond inside, the jumpstart all but gone. With two bloody fingers, he pulled the ring from its red velvet cushion and let the box tumble into the pooling blood. He held the brown diamond up to his eyes, its significance now lost. He cradled the phone in his shoulder and, with both hands, slipped the ring onto her finger.
“Rory!” Hooper shouted.
“Yeah,” he replied softly, setting her hand down and studying it in the gray light coming through the windows.
“Listen to me,” Hooper said between deep breaths.
The diamond sparkled in Rory’s eyes, sending the image of a nicely renovated starter home flickering through his reeling mind. Sunbeams streamed through large windows and landed on a beautiful baby girl in Rachel’s arms. Scout nudged Rory’s hand with a cold nose. His heart fluttered as their baby girl cooed softly from Rachel’s loving arms. She turned to him and smiled brightly. His smile faded when he noticed her broken teeth and the bloody hole where her right eye used to be. He squeezed his eyes shut, so tight the white spots returned like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“Deputy Callahan!” Hooper yelled, jerking Rory from his thoughts.
“Yeah,” Rory sniffled.
“Did you hear what I said?”
Rory didn’t respond.
“I need you to get over to my house and bring Kourtney and Alex here to the station right now. They won’t answer the phone which means they’re probably out back in the pool. You are my closest man!”
The mere mention of the swimming pool sent a stabbing pain through Rory’s chest. He saw his father again, covered in blood with that evil grin slipping across his insidious face.
Hooper lowered his voice and spoke gravely. “Do you understand me?”
Rory nodded, staring blankly at Rachel’s body.
“Rory, goddamnit! Do you understand me?”
“I’m leaving right now.” He hung up and traded the phone for the gun, wiping it on his shirt and smearing blood across it as he pictured himself reliving the nightmare all over again. The one they had just barely survived the first time around. Except this time, Rachel and Woody wouldn’t be there. This time, no one would stand a chance. He turned his blurry gaze to the dead man and pointed the gun at him. “Fuck you,” he whispered, shooting him three times in the back. The body jerked with each slug and grew still again. Tears spilled from Rory’s eyes, making the man’s fuzzy image that much harder to believe. Rory shut his eyes and cringed with the images flipping through his mind at breakneck speed. He saw himself taking the easy way out (although there was nothing easy about anything anymore). In another jerky flash, Rory saw himself stick the gun into his mouth and pull the trigger, splattering his brains against the olive-colored living room walls.
Next, he saw Alex smile at him. Rory tried to push the kid back down but he had orange floaties on his arms and refused to go under. Rory could see Kourtney lying in a chase lounge, glancing at her son over the top of a magazine. Then he saw a man in a bloody hospital gown stumble from the bushes and pounce on Kourtney from behind, breaking her shades with his yellowed teeth. Rory blinked the graphic image away and returned his attention to the one lying in front of him. A defeated sigh escaped him and he turned back to the stiff. What was the point in rescuing a child just so he could grow up in a world not worth saving?
Rachel opened her eyes.
What was the point in living a life not worth living? Not only would Rachel be gone forever, but so would the dream. His mom was probably dead, too, rendering everything a gruesome reminder of the twisted past. He was alone now, his family and friends gone in the blink of an eye. Why fight to live in a world that had so little left to give? Sooner or later, his luck would run out and he would turn into one of those things as well, left to walk the Earth alone and kill the innocent until the end of time. It was inevitable. And the worst part about it…all the time to think before it eventually happened. He was tired of thinking.
Rachel sat up.
Tired of struggling to breathe... Rory’s head snapped around, his eyes as big as saucers. She hissed and reached for him with blood-soaked hands and, for a split second, he actually thought about keeping her, like he had seen in some horror flick before. He considered locking her in the basement until someone found a cure. There had to be a way to reverse it and maybe they could still be that perfect family. Maybe it wasn’t too late. When the entire second had passed, however, he raised the gun and pulled the trigger, forever removing what was left of her beautiful face. She flopped backwards with a repulsive clunk as her skull hit the hardwood floor.
Rory bent over the lifeless body and cried in her blood-soaked chest. “No!” he screamed, repeatedly banging the butt of the gun against the floor and not caring if it accidentally discharged or not. Not caring if he lived or died.
A long shadow suddenly crossed the room and Rory could hear something dripping. Slowly, he turned to the door. His heart sank. It was already too late.
“Connor?” he said faintly.
Connor’s oily hair hung limply in his face. He snarled his response, spitting blood onto his tie and shambling into the living room, forcing Rory to make another quick decision. Other than the shiny blood covering Connor’s lab coat, he was dry. These things could be coming from anywhere this time around, not just the water. This battle would be much tougher to endure, leaving a future much harder to imagine. Each second of every waking day would have to be spent being on guard. Always ready to run. Always ready to shoot. And what was the point? Connor moaned and reached for Rory with blood-soaked hands, further confirming the futility of it all.
Rory lowered the gun and closed his eyes. An image of he and Rachel popped up. They were strolling down a sun-splashed beach, holding hands and smiling as waves broke in the background. There were others down the way. His father, Woody, Doc, and Deputies Meyer and Johnson all waved from a group of baby blue picnic tables, covered in different meats, cheeses, cakes and pies. Ashley, Kate and Clutch laughed at something funny before turning and waving him over. Even Mick and Rob were there, sporting Hawaiian shirts and wide grins. They raised their bottles in the air to him a
nd then clinked them together and took a long drink. Rory chuckled and Rachel squeezed his hand. He turned to her ocean rich eyes and dove in, letting her glow wash over him.
Connor tripped over his own feet and stumbled sideways, making the floor shake. He grunted and regained his course, limping closer. Rory inhaled a long breath as a bright Christmas tree with presents scattered beneath it flashed through his mind. He saw himself excitedly unwrapping presents in this very living room as fluffy snowflakes fell outside the windows, frosting the pines and bushes like a magical wedding cake. It was one of those unforgettable memories of when everything was right with the world and Rory had no idea why the thought had just glimmered inside his mind.
Connor grunted, absent-mindedly kicking Rachel in the head and staggering closer.
Rory drew in another deep breath and cracked his eyes open. Connor peeled his bloody lips back and barred his teeth. Rory blinked with the scream that followed. There was only one choice to make and only a few seconds left to make it, so he raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
The End
About the Author:Sean Thomas Fisher was born and raised in the eerie town of Des Moines, Iowa and graduated from The University of Iowa. He is also the author of the chilling novel – Cold Faith and Zombies: http://amzn.to/tgpIRz
Like his Facebook page for future release dates, end of the world forecasts, and safe-house locations at: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sean-Thomas-Fisher-Author/285848344775603
If you are reading this, you are the resistance...
Floodwater Zombies Page 28
