When The Light Goes Out

by Jack Thompson

"Why wouldn't I have been? Why would I want her to get into trouble during a zombie invasion? What would I gain from that?" "I" and the boy looked damned embarrassed.

  I tried to push the look aside, tried to convince myself that it wasn't important, but Jaden looked intrigued. He placed a hand on Malachi's shoulders, and gave him a look. Malachi tried to shrug the hand off, but Jaden didn't seem impressed at all. George moved forward a bit as well, looking at Malachi.

  "Well?"

  "Umm.. Well, Serena likes me."

  "Yes, we got that part, Malachi. What else?" "And"

  "Oh my God." The look on his face, his tone of voice, the entire situation just dawned on me right then through my haze of pain, and confusion. "You thought I was jealous?"

  "Maybe.. it's a stupid idea," Malachi said as a way of explaining. "But.. I guess I thought that, maybe you liked me too. You both were fighting from the very beginning. It was a logical thought."

  "Like you?" It was almost laughable. "Are you really that conceited?" "No. I"

  Someone, somewhere, screamed. Loudly. The shriek killed the conversation, and both Malachi and Jaden jumped to their feet. Jaden pointed at George, telling him to watch me and Pixie. Malachi pointed at the Jaden and told him to watch us. Jaden argued that he was one of the few able bodied people left, and the two exited the room, leaving George, Pixie, and I alone to wonder what was going on.

  "Excel…?" Pixie said my name with such a fearful tone that I extended my arms to her. I bid her towards me, hell bent on a hug.

  "I don't know. I don't know what's going on, don't even ask me," I whispered, wrapping arms about the approaching girl. "But we'll be okay. Whatever it is, we'll be okay. We haven't died yet, I'm sure our luck will hold out a bit longer, alright? Okay?"

  "Mmhmm."

  "That's a good girl. You okay George?"

  The boy mumbled something I didn't quite understand, and walked towards the window in the room. He was just staring, while Pixie was flinching, trying to climb into my skin as the screaming outside started getting worse. Louder. There was an obscene amount of noise, none of which was the least bit coherent, and I was lost as to the circumstances outside of the closed door.

  There was banging as well, like a door being slamming closed over, and over, and over again. Pixie was crying, and George looked extremely upset. I was scared, but that didn't stop me from noting that the look on the boys face was odd. He was upset, but it didn't seem to be the, "Oh my god, I'm gonna die!" upset. I could almost swear that, the boy too young to have learned to mask his emotions properly looked guilty about something.

  Something.

  "George. Baby, come over here," I tried to make it sound like a request, but the boy barely turned to stare at me. Looking back out the window moments later. "George," and I kept my tone firm. "Come away from the window, okay? You never know what's going to happen. Maybe the pigeons contracted the virus. You really want to die by way of zombie pigeon."

  "Not funny, Excel."

  "Who said I was being fun"

  The door slammed open, revealing an entirely disheveled, and blood soaked Jeremy. His shirt was half torn down the front, and if I wasn't mistaken he was missing a shoe. He pointed a bloody pipe at us, using it to motion towards the door. He was frantic, and the screaming in the background wasn't helping much. Why was he covered in blood? Who was screaming? What was the pounding?

  "Come on guys. We need to get to the roof," the man explained, turning to leave the room right after he said it.

  George was moving towards the door, and Pixie was just getting up as I started shifting. A bad move in and of itself, made worse when I sort of got to my feet. It was then that pain shot from my back, through to the tips of my fingers and toes. I didn't stay on my feet long, crashing right back to the floor in utter agony. Jesus fucking Christ, how I forgot about my back for even a few seconds was beyond me, but Pixie was rushing back to me frantically.

  "Come on, Excel," she begged. "We need to go. Like now."

  "I know Pixie. I know. I just can't move. I" I gasped when another bout of pain shot through me, sort of curling up on the floor again. "Malachi!" I heard the girl screaming, running to the door. "Malachi! Malachi! Excel can't move! Excel's hurt, she can't move! Malachi!"

  There was just so much screaming, and every sound seemed amplified to my ears. Everything was so much louder than it should have been, and I raised my hands to cover the sound receivers, hoping it would lessen the ache in my skull. But then hands were descending on me, and I was being lifted to my feet which made everything a million times worse, and I let out the loudest shriek I could manage.

  "Get off of me!!"

  Because it hurts so much.

  Because the pressure is too great. Because I don't want to slow you down. Because it's not your turn to die.

  "No. Excel. Hush. Calm down. Shh," the feeling of Malachi's whispered words against my ear was rather comforting, but I still didn't want him there if my suspicions were correct. If the zombies had, somehow, gotten past all the blocks, onto our floor, I didn't want him with me. I wanted him going and gone. "Hush, Excel. I'm going to help you to the roof."

  "I can't walk Malachi," I warned. "It hurts way too damn much." "It's okay. Then I'll.. umm.. I'll carry you!"

  "No. No. You can't." "It'll be okay."

  "Malachi!" I think it was Serena who shouted. "Hurry up! We need to go!" "I've kinda got a problem here!!"

  "Yes?"

  "You know.. someone who can't walk!"

  "Excel?"

  "Who the hell else?!"

  "Then leave Excel behind."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The tears were flowing anew, because it was the coldest thing I'd ever heard slip from another human beings lips. There were zombies in the building somewhere, something that got Jeremy covered in blood and had people outside screaming, and rushing like a bunch of lunatics. This in mind the fucking bitch told him to leave me behind. Leave me behind. The absolute worst part is that I agreed with her entirely. I couldn't move on my own. Malachi would have a terrible time carrying me up the stairs, I mean really if it's hard to carry a tiny twelve year old, he didn't have a fiery chance in hell. I was bound and determined to do everything in my power to save my friends, and if this was the sacrifice..

  "Go," I whispered, pushing against the mans ribs softly. "Go."

  "Excuse me?" Brown eyes turned to stare at me, seemingly unsure of what he'd heard. "I didn't mumble," I whispered. "Go."

  "No."

  "Malachi, please.." I really didn't know how to convince the boy, but I smiled at him. Sort of. I tried to at the very least. "Malachi, please go. Please. Listen to her. You're not going to make it out of here with me, so I'm not going to make it out of here."

  "Then we'll stay here!" He snapped, looking frantically around the room, as the black haired girl approached the door. "What?"

  "We'll stay here," he said again quickly, albeit firmer tha before. "We'll barricade the door. Door to wall," he explained, pointing all the while. "It won't be that hard. We've got the shelving unit over there that can be turned lengthwise, and the cabinet to place up against the door in case they break down the wood."

  "Malachi, no"

  "We'll be fine. We'll be absolutely fine."

  "No," I insisted, although I was both shocked and flattered that he was trying to figure out a way to keep me alive. "No, you need to go." "What the hell's holdin' ye up in 'ere?! We needa move!"

  "Excel's hurt, Blaz."

  "Then either carry the Excel, or leave the kid be'ind." "Blaz!"

  "Ye think I'm jokin'? Make up yer mind, lad."

  I was crying, with my head bowed, trying to figure out what to do. Everyone was yelling, and still rushing around. In the distance I heard someone scream that they couldn't "hold it anymore" and even louder banging. Then a blood curdling screech that made Malachi drop me half way to the floor, before he regained himself, and caught me again.

  "Jesus."

  "We need
to get to the roof!" Billy roared from the doorway.

  The old man was glaring in at the two of us, but neither of us moved. Me, obviously because I couldn't. Malachi, I was sure, had his reasons. Probably along the lines of refusing to leave me, knowing he couldn't carry me all the way up to the roof. I was an adult. A full grown adult that might have had a bit more meat on my bones than necessary. Never in my life did I regret the milkshakes, and Doritos as much as I did right then. Maybe, if I'd been small and lightweight, he could have carried me. But he couldn't. And I didn't want to die.

  He didn't want me to die. "Go Malachi," I urged. "No."

  "Go."

  "Come on!" Serena shouted from the doorway.

  "I'm not leaving you, Excel!" Despite all the yelling, Malachi was whispering to me, holding on tightly. I tried to ignore how comforting it was, because I had to force him to leave me. I didn't want my resolve to break.

  "Why not?" I demanded, trying to look mad, and frustrated, but sure I was failing miserably. How could I be mad at the boy for not wanting to leave me there, alone, to die? I was kind of shocked that I wasn't hyperventilating as I looked over to the boy. He looked like hell. He was bruised up here and there, with dark bags under his eyes from what was definitely lack of sleep. His eyes were bloodshot, but not in the zombie kind of way. His hair was cropped sloppily, missing a piece where it seemed to have been torn out. Explained the bandage that had been there. "Why not?"

  "Excel, you're my friend," he said with a conviction that made Serena, in the doorway, gasp. "Excel, you're my friend, and I'm not going to leave you here for dead." "I don't mind," I whispered back with a smile. "I'll buy you more time."

  "No. No, Excel, I can't leave you." "Malachi, for the love of God"

  "God?" I looked up at an angry looking Jeremy in the doorway, gushing blood from a wound I hadn't noticed before. "There is no fucking God. God wouldn't fucking put us through this. God is suppose to be loving, and forgiving"

  "Can we not get into a religious argument right now?!" Lila shrieked from beside him, slipping into the room past the people blocking the doorway. "God, no God. Forgiving God, vengeful God. It doesn't fucking matter right now, because if we can't figure something out like right now we're all going to die! Malachi, can't you just carry Excel up the stairs?"

  "No." "Why?"

  "It'll practically be dead weight. I mean, I could carry Excel, it'll just take too much time to get all the way upstairs. And I'm not leaving Excel behind." "But Malachi," Serena flashed her eyelashes, apparently trying to convince the boy otherwise, but froze at the withering look on his face.

  "Serena," he ended all of her arguments with his tone alone. "Shut your fucking mouth, okay? Why don't you stay behind, and stop telling me to abandon my friends!" "Malachi!" Various people gasped from the doorway, staring at the man who was teary eyed, and angry.

  "No! Don't fucking look at me like that. She's trying to get me to leave Excel behind like another human being is fucking expendable or something" "Another human being is expendable when they're dying anyway!"

  Seems everybody froze then, turning to look at the dark haired girl like she was a zombie herself. I burst out sobbing, and George stepped behind Malachi and I alongside Pixie. The girl grabbed onto my free arm, and glared at the group in the doorway, making it perfectly clear that she would not be leaving without me. For a minute, I thought that the heavily bleeding Jeremy was going to round on Serena with his pipe, but it was at this moment that Dustin showed up.

  "What's holding us up?" He asked, looking in at me, and nearly face palming when he realized the situation. "We'll duh, you're hurt. Okay, perhaps if Malachi and I both hold Excel up, we can"

  "Oh dear God!"

  Heads turned at the exclamation, and everyone rushed into the room as quickly as they could. Obviously, I had no clue what was going on, but people were forcing things before the door, starting with the cabinet that was only slightly taller than the doorway. When I heard something slam up against the wood, like it was trying to get in, I realized that Jaden

  was missing. Where was Jaden? "Where's Jaden?"

  Lila sobbed.

  A knot formed, yet again, in my stomach. "He"

  "He's dead." "How?"

  "He was helping to keep the door closed."

  Luke, I hardly noticed, was bleeding quite heavily against the wall. "Jesus."

  Jaden was the one who'd screamed.

  More tears, but this time I wasn't the only one crying. Pixie was convulsing with sobs, and Lila wasn't doing much better. All the boys were working together, even the wounded Ian, to move the various objects they'd be using to block the door. It took longer than I was comfortable with, but it happened. I tried to get to my feet, to help, but Dustin rushed over to quickly lay me back down, gently scolding me for moving. Telling me not to again.

  The only problem was that I wanted to help. I didn't want them to do all the work, because I didn't want my life to be entirely in their hands. Maybe it was mean to think, but I thought it. My head was kind of fuzzy though, so I decided to follow the order, and just kept put, watching everyone struggle as something was slamming up against the door, violently. Maybe it was Jaden. I threw a hand over my face, ignoring the pain from my bruised eye. I dug my fingers in, trying to fight back my more tears. I didn't want to cry. It was immature. Death was a part of life.

  But fuck reanimation.

  I think I could have handled Jaden dying. I would have been very, very sad. I would have cried, grieved, mourned, and eventually gotten over it. I couldn't quite handle the thought of him longing for my fresh brains. I didn't realize I'd been sobbing like a child, while clawing at my bad eye, until my hands were forced to my sides, and I was restrained.

  Blurry eyes revealed what might have been Malachi's face. "Excel, hush. Calm down."

  "Bbut"

  "We're safe now. Okay?" Malachi assured me, gently helping me so that I was sitting up, and leaning half against him, half against Ian who limped to my other side. "There's no way in hell they're getting through that."

  "They're already in here," spoke a cold voice. A male voice. I figured it had to have been Billy, as the voice held signs of age, but no accent. Which ruled Blaz out, hands down. "Excuse me?"

  The man made a disapproving little noise, and turned his body so that he was facing Jeremy, and every eye in the room followed him. My eyes cleared to reveal Jeremy, bleeding like a stuck pig, was missing an entire section of his arm. His shirt was hanging off of the right side of his body, having been torn the rest of the way during one struggle or another. He was paling dramatically, but wasn't complaining about his situation even a little. He sort of grinned when I looked at him, maybe he was grinning at me. I wasn't sure, but I didn't like it one bit. He raised a hand to cover his mouth as he coughed, and I wondered what would have happened had the virus been airborne.

  I mean, really, you see it in all the movies. Stories. Games. There's a deadly virus that's suppose to kill everyone, but there are the lucky few with a strange immunity to it. So, of course, the people who are immune find other people, band together, get picked off one by one. There's nothing left but the two lovers at the end, who get saved by one military unit or another, and from there they live happily ever after with little more than the deaths of their comrades hanging above them for the rest of their existence.

  I realized, immediately, that I was getting horribly off topic, and I'd missed a rather large chunk of conversation while my fuzzy brain went off on a tangent. I raised a hand to rub my eyes, noting that the wall was the only thing holding Jeremy up. His shirt was entirely blood soaked, as was the right leg of his pants. His hand was covered in the blood as well, however whether it was from contact with his bloody clothes, or the blood from his wound I didn't know.

  "What do you mean, Billy?" Dustin inquired, scooping Pixie up into his arms to console the sobbing child, and I wondered what he was asking, because I was utterly confused.

  I shifted my gaze to Ian, mumb
ling something along the lines of, "What's going on?" But I was sure it didn't come out that way. I felt the weight of his dark eyes resting on me, but only smiled grimly. I was just opening my eyes again when the there were a series of gasps, and the air in the room just seemed to go frigid. In my minds eye, everything went in slow motion as I turned my head back towards the others again.

  Bang.

  "He was bitten."

  I don't think any single one of us registered the happenings until a thin trail of blood oozed from a bullet hole between Jeremy's eyes. Even then, I don't think the gravity of the situation set in until his body folded over on itself, collapsing to the floor in a heap. A dead heap. Even once the realization hit, the room was utterly quiet from shock. Except shock morphed quickly to horror, which in turn gave way to outrage.

  "You fucking bastard!" Lila shrieked at the top of her lungs, moving to her feet lightening quick to punch the old man in the face. Both of my eyebrows shot up, pleasantly surprised that the girl was punching him like a man. Over and over again, rapidly. Nobody moved for several seconds, but it wasn't much longer before both Jared and Blaz rushed forward to restrained the girl. Somewhere during the fray, Pixie had been shoved into Serena's arms, who looked at her with disdain, as Dustin moved forward to help as well.