Zombie Island

by Samantha Hoffman

  Ryder or Reese must have taken care of it.

  Strangely, thinking of the dead boy as it makes me uncomfortable. Should it be so easy for me to think of him as anything other than a person? Shouldn’t I feel more remorse for that boy’s death than I do?

  Tobe splashes me with water, taking me from my silent, depressing reverie. I splash her back, trying to enjoy the feeling of letting go and being carefree. This is the first time in months that I’ve felt relaxed and safe enough to even consider enjoying myself.

  And I’ve always loved to swim.

  I dive beneath the surface, doing somersaults and digging through the sand at the bottom. When I come up for air, I sift through the dirt in my hands, and find a handful of small shells. They’re mostly light pink or tan in color, and they’re nothing special, but I stare at them, unable to look away.

  In this world, there’s very little left that could be considered beautiful, and I have the strangest urge to preserve this small bit of beauty. So I dip my hands back into the water, washing away all traces of dirt, sand, and muck, and wade over to the dock. I gently tuck the clean shells into my shirt, and shove away from the dock.

  I float back out to where Tobe is basking up the sunlight with a smile on her face. So far, this place has proven safe, and a good idea, and I’m glad we decided to come. That is, until the zombie surfaces from beneath the dock.

  It’s been infected for a while, and its features are starting to morph into a genderless mass. The eyes are dark, sunken, and expressionless, and the body is bloated. Its skin hangs loosely from its body, and even though the creature is shirtless, it’s so deformed I can’t tell if it’s male or female. All I know is that it’s seen us, and it’s hungry.

  For a split second, Tobe and I just stare at the zombie, unable to move or react. Then it opens its mouth wide, dripping yellowish drool down its chest, and shrieks at us. That breaks us out of our stupor, and Tobe immediately screams.

  We’re both weaponless, except for the Glock on the end of the dock. But the zombie is in my way, and I can’t get to it without running directly into the creature’s arms. I begin feeling around in the dirt for anything that might be usable as a weapon. Tobe isn’t much help; she’s still screaming at the top of her lungs, and I hope that Ryder and Reese can hear.

  The zombie wades out toward us, fighting the water every step of the way. It’s moving slow, but with a purpose that is obvious. We’ll probably be its first meal in months, and it’s not going to just give up and let us go.

  Tobe shrinks behind me, hoping that I’ll be able to protect her. But I have no weapons, and no plan, except to protect Tobe. I was the one that suggested swimming, and it’s my fault we’re in danger now. I’m going to do whatever is necessary to keep her safe now.

  “Tobe, head that way, around the zombie, and get back to the house.”

  “But–”

  “Don’t argue, just go!” I shout, wading forward, toward the zombie.

  It opens its mouth and shrieks again. Once I get within reach, it slowly reaches out for me. This zombie is older and not as coordinated, fast, or strong as the fresher ones, so that’s something. This zombie moves so slowly that I can dodge the sharp claws, grab the wrist, and twist.

  It snaps, and the zombie howls. I’m not sure if it’s in pain or rage, and I don’t want to think about it. Instead, I bring my arms back, and shove as hard as I can, hoping to knock it off its feet. Instead, my hands tear right through the soft, flabby flesh like it was melted butter.

  My hands sink wrist deep into its body, and I grimace. “Oh, gross.”

  It leans forward, trying to bite at my arms, and I yank away. My hands come away with fistfuls of thick, congealed blood and skin. I resist the urge to squeal like a squeamish girl, and pull away from the zombie, circling around it. I wade through the water, trying to make my way back to the beach and the dock, where the gun is.

  The water gets shallower and my pace quickens. I reach for the gun, and the zombie grabs my arm, yanking me away from the dock and back into the water. I go down hard on one elbow, and desperately crawl to the beach on my elbows and knees. The zombie grabs my hips and drags me farther into the water, and farther away from my gun.

  I can feel the pads of its fingers pressed against my bare skin, and take a quick second to thank god it’s not the zombie’s nails. As quickly as it grabs me, I flail wildly about with my feet, trying to kick it and dislodge the creature from my body. It doesn’t work, and I can feel the zombie getting closer and closer to the back of my legs.

  I can’t shake it off, and I can’t fight it!

  I’m going to die.

  There’s a loud shot, and the pressure on my hips lessens. I can feel the zombie slump over my back, and I whimper. I don’t know whether or not it was a head shot, and I don’t want to take the chance it’s not, but the zombie’s body has me pinned on my stomach.

  I can’t budge the zombie, and I can’t move. The panic sets in, and I feel the scream building up in the back of my throat. After a second, the weight of the zombie on my back lessons, and Ryder and Reese drag it away from me. I scramble to my feet, wiping tears from my eyes. I just came so close to death I could practically feel it breathing down my neck.

  Reese rushes over to me. “Sam, are you alright? What happened?”

  “It…it just came out of nowhere. I couldn’t reach the gun. I was helpless.”

  Reese steps forward and wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. His embrace is warm, tight, and comforting. He holds me until the shaking and the crying stops, and when he pulls away from me, he has a worried look in his eyes. “Sam? Are you alright?” he asks again. I nod slowly, and he sighs. “From now on, I think nobody goes anywhere without either me or Ryder.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  Ryder steps forward. “Let’s get you back up to the house. Hopefully some lunch will calm you down,” he says, handing me the clothes from the end of the dock. “Here, get dressed first.”

  I take the clothes and pull them on with shaking hands. Ryder and Reese both look away while I get dressed, trying to make me feel more comfortable. When I’m done, they walk me back up to the house, where Tobe is already preparing lunch for the four of us.

  I pause at the front door, and take one last look at the dock. The body of the zombie is lying on the beach, half submerged in water, bleeding from a bullet hole in the head. All I can think is that if Ryder and Reese hadn’t gotten there when they did, I’d be dead right now, or infected and on my way to becoming a monster.

  Tobe is in the kitchen, making macaroni and cheese, and she serves a bag of stale chips with it. The MRE is only meant for three servings, but we split it up evenly, and gorge on the delicious, warm food. Even though it’s not a full serving, the food not only comforts me, but it fills me up more than I have been in ages.

  Everyone is staring at me, which is slightly unnerving. “Guys, I’m not going to break just because of one zombie.”

  “We know,” Reese says, leaning closer. “You’re strong, Sam, but you’re not invulnerable. You came extremely close to death today. If you wanna talk about it, that’s fine. Any one of us would be willing to listen.”

  “Thanks, guys. But I’m alright, really. Just give me a little time, and I’ll be fine.”

  Reese lets it go, and he finishes eating in silence. I can tell he’s worried about me, but I’m too tired and shaken to care at the moment. Right now, all I want is to crawl into bed, draw the covers up over my head, and try to get some sleep. I close the door behind me, and climb into bed. Right now, I don’t care that it belonged to a little boy that’s probably dead now. I’m just so tired I close my eyes and fall right asleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  I sleep for almost four whole hours. When I wake up, it’s getting dark out, and I feel a little better about what happened earlier. I was stupid enough to make a mistake that almost cost me my life, and Tobe’s, and I won’t let it happen again. I can’t afford t
o if I want to survive in this new world.

  When I wake up, I stretch until my back cracks, and then head out into the living room. Reese, Ryder, and Tobe are all sitting at the dining room table with a deck of cards. They’re playing poker and are using stale pretzels as money. Tobe smiles when she sees me. “Should we deal you in?”

  I smile. “Sure, I haven’t played poker in ages.”

  I take a seat across from Reese, and Tobe slides some cards towards me along with a pile of pretzels. I do a quick count. Twenty of them won’t last me very long, so I play it as safe as possible. It takes me almost forty minutes to even out my pretzels with the others, and then I slowly pull ahead.

  After almost an hour of poker, Tobe is out of pretzels, Reese is down to eight, and Ryder and I are battling it out for first place. He glances up at me over his cards, smirks, and pushes all of his pretzels into the center of the table. “I’m all in.”

  I shove mine into the center. “Me, too.”

  Reese sighs. “What the hell,” he says, pushing all eight of his in. “Everyone show ‘em.”

  We all lay our cards down, and Ryder cheers. “Woo!” he snatches all of the pretzels, and pops one in his mouth. “Sorry guys, it looks like I’m just better than you at everything.”

  Reese rolls his eyes, and I laugh. “Don’t get too cocky, Ryder. I’ll win next time.”

  He snorts. “I doubt it,” he says, popping another into his mouth. “Wow, even though they’re the stalest things that I’ve ever eaten, they taste so amazing since I won them because I’m better than all of you.”

  We all laugh. “Right, whatever you say, Ryder,” Reese says, getting up from the table. “I’m gonna go wash up at the lake. It’s been two days since I’ve shaved, and I’m tired of being so scratchy and dirty feeling.”

  Ryder chuckles. “There’s nothing wrong with a little stubble.” I glance at Ryder out the corner of my eyes. His stubble has grown out since I first met him, and it’s transforming into a full beard, which isn’t nearly as attractive as the stubble was. He rubs his hand absently over his chin. “Hmm, maybe I could do with a quick shave, too.”

  He’s not the only one in need of a shave. I think about the razor in our supplies, and about my legs. It’s terrible to be worrying about something like this at the end of the world, but I don’t feel comfortable without doing it anymore. I can’t help my growing attraction to both Reese and Ryder, but I can at least feel good about my body and the way it looks and feels.

  Ryder gathers a bucket of water from the lake, strains it, and dumps it into a pot, and then sets it over an open fire in the backyard. He brings it to a boil and, when it’s done, we all fill a small metal cooking pot with water. Ryder and Reese wash up in their bedroom, Tobe uses ours, and I sit in the bathtub while I wash and shave. I take my time, trying to be as careful as possible so I don’t nick myself.

  It takes a while, but when I’m done I feel much better about myself.

  After shaving, I lean over the bathtub, and scrub my head and hair with the still warm water. I try not to look at the dirt that comes out, and instead focus on how nice it feels to be seriously clean and smelling of soap. I dress in my still clean clothes, and head back into the living room.

  Judging by how dark it is outside, I guess that it’s a little after six o’clock. Reese is in the kitchen with freshly boiled water, and is making more of the prepared meals. I peek over his shoulder, and he smiles. “Beef stew,” he says. “Smells great doesn’t it? It’ll be a few minutes. Wanna grab me some clean bowls and spoons?”

  I dig around in the cupboards, and find the bowls in one of the top ones. I have to stand on my toes to reach them, and Reese chuckles. “Do you need me to get that? Or would you like me to find you a box to stand on?” I smack his shoulder, and he laughs. “I’m just playing.”

  “What if I’m incredibly sensitive about my height?”

  “How tall are you?”

  “Five foot two, and proud of it, I guess.”

  He laughs. “Wow, do you ever get mistaken for a kid?”

  “I got handed the kid’s menu at restaurants until I was sixteen,” I admit with a smile. “To save money, my mom and dad used to tell people at buffets that I was only thirteen, and I’d get charged less. I felt terrible about doing it, but hey, why not, right? Have you ever been mistaken as younger than you are?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, and opens the bags. “No, I can honestly say I haven’t. I guess the five o’clock shadow makes me appear my own age, or even older. Most fourteen year olds can’t grow a beard.”

  “True,” I admit, taking one of the bags of beef stew. I pour equal shares into two of the bowls and, even though it’s not much, it smells delicious. I slide a bowl into each hand, and head out to the dining room, where Tobe and Ryder are sitting with the pretzels from our earlier poker game.

  We divide everything up evenly, and feast on some of the best food we’ve had in ages. I know that the bags of MRE’s are going to run out eventually, but for right now we can fill our stomachs and regain some of our strength and hopefully weight.

  “What’s so funny?” Reese asks me.

  I’m smiling and I didn’t even realize it. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking that it’s weird to want to gain weight. Normally I worry about keeping it off, not my ability to gain it.”

  Tobe giggles. “Yeah, it’s nice to not have to worry about swimsuit season, or about having the perfect hair and makeup. I don’t have anyone to impress anymore. I can just be myself, without worrying about being judged.”

  “I know. That’s definitely something I don’t miss. Having to constantly worry about what others think of me.”

  “Why do girls worry about that so much?” Ryder asks. “Guys never worry about something as stupid as whether or not other people like them. Is it strictly a chick thing?”

  I want to reach over and smack him. “It is not a chick thing. Everyone worries that they’re not liked, even if they won’t admit it, and they pretend to be tough, heartless men,” I say with a pointed look at him.

  He chuckles. “I’m not heartless; I’m practical. There’s a difference.”

  I pop my last pretzel in my mouth. Everyone finishes eating in silence, and Tobe offers to clear away the dishes. She comes back with a lighter and proceeds to light eight candles in the living room. It’s nearly dark out, and the candles give off a warm, comforting glow that’s just bright enough to read by.

  “I’m gonna find a book. There’s a bookcase in the family room, right?”

  Reese nods. “Yeah, along with a pool table,” he says, looking at Ryder. “You wanna see how well we can do in the dark? I bet I can still whoop your ass.”

  Ryder grins. “I don’t think so, kiddo. You’re way out of your league.”

  They get up and practically run down the hall to the family room, shoving and trying to trip one another. They’re laughing, and after a few minutes I hear the sound of a pool cue hitting a ball. Someone curses, and I shake my head. “Weren’t you gonna look for a book?” Tobe asks with a smile.

  I get up off the couch, head down the hall, and see the two brothers bent over the pool table. They’re studying the layout of the remaining colored balls, and I just shake my head and slide past them, focused more on the bookshelf than the table. As I go through the small selection of books, I notice that most of them are similar: paranormal romance.

  I never understood why people enjoyed reading those types of books so much. They’re always the same. An ordinary girl meets two sexy, paranormal boys that both fight over her, and there’s always some lame conflict that pushes her closer together with both of them, and then she makes the obvious choice. The choice everyone knew she’d make since the first chapter.

  And they’re always trilogies, I think to myself. Why can’t they just have one or two really good books, instead of three or four adequate ones?

  I pick up one of them, see that it’s about good and evil fairies that are at war, and quickly put
it back. I am not reading four hundred pages of fake conflict and two fairy hunks fighting over a fairy princess. Give me a cliché werewolf or vampire story any day.

  Finally, I select one that’s not super long and boring, and head back out into the living room. Tobe is sitting cross-legged on the couch, and she has a glass of what looks like wine in her hands. She sees me looking at it and shrugs. “I figured one glass wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Probably not,” I say, sitting beside her. I crack open my book and start reading. The candlelight isn’t very bright, and I have to focus hard on the lines of the pages, but I haven’t read a book in months, and I’ve really missed it. I read until about nine thirty, when Ryder comes back out into the living room.

  He stops at the end of the couch. “Tomorrow I’m going to hide our boat in a little alcove about half a mile up the way, and then I’m gonna hike back. Which one of you wants to come with me? Reese and I decided that from now on, one of us is always going to try and be here, and one of you will be out. Who’s coming with me?”

  “Not me,” Tobe says, sipping at her third glass of wine. She yawns, sets the glass on the table, and gets up. “I’m going to bed, and then tomorrow I’m doing the dishes, I’m bathing, and then I’m going to take a nap and relax. Take Sam.”

  She winks at me as she walks by, and I resist the urge to trip her.

  Ryder nods once. “Alright. I’m leaving right after breakfast, so be ready.”

  “I don’t get a say in this?”

  “No,” he says, heading to the bedroom that he and Reese are sharing. I stare after him, unsure of whether to be angry that I don’t have a say, or excited that I might get to finally prove my worth to someone. I can show him that I’m not some damsel in distress that always needs saving.

  I’ll be the one doing the saving or a change…

  In the morning, Tobe makes breakfast of scrambled egg and bacon. The eggs are spongy and the bacon is soft, but it tastes like bacon and eggs, so I don’t complain. Anything is better than canned tuna day after day, whether it’s perfect or not.