Watch the World Burn

by Amber White

  Boxes and bags of food and supplies lay scattered around the floor. Every isle was in disarray, with carts and baskets sitting upright or overturned forgotten everywhere.

  We made our way quickly to the canned food isle and stocked up on fruit and vegies. We hit up the bakery next, grabbing all manner of bagels, breads, and donuts, adding four ready-made sandwiches on top of the then completely full first basket.

  “Candy isle?” Billie and Dean asked.

  I nodded. “Candy isle. We’ll need our energy.”

  We got as many protein and chocolate bars as we could, throwing gummy and hard candies in with them. When we had filled our baskets with enough food to last us at least a week, we searched the checkout stands, trying to see if we had somehow missed a person standing or sitting nearby. What we found next, I’ll never forget.

  “Hello? Is anyone in here? We’d like to buy a few things.” Billie called out.

  There was no answer. Moving slowly, I checked around each checkout stand, looking for anyone who may have been hiding. In one of the middle checkout stands, behind the cash register was a person. The skin of their face was torn off, chunks of flesh and meat had been bitten off, leaving strips of skin to dangle from the wounds. Their skull had been gnawed on in several places. What remained of the corpse was twisted and broken.

  “Oh God,” I whispered, holding back the sour bile rising in my throat. I had seen car wrecks that weren’t half as bad as this.

  “What is it?” Dean and Sully asked, alarmed.

  “Don’t…” I tried to warn them before they rushed to my side. They didn’t listen.

  Dean dropped his basket of cans and turned to vomit.

  Sully clapped his hand over his mouth, the other holding his stomach, trying not to vomit too.

  “Oh God,” He murmured, his eyes squeezing shut as he backtracked, bumping into the magazine stand as he went.

  “What? What is it?” Billie asked.

  “Do not come over here.” I ordered.

  “Why?” She asked, wide eyed.

  “You really don’t need to see this.” I told her.

  Dean vomited again, effectively marking my point.

  “We need to go. Now.” I said, scooping up Dean’s basket and headed for the door.

  “Without paying?”Billie asked.

  “Shouldn’t we call the police?” Sully asked.

  “Do you have cell phone reception? Because I don’t.” I said. “Besides, even if we could call the cops, what good would that do?”

  “But…look at what happened to…that person. Whoever did that has to be very violent and sick. They should be locked up.” Sully said.

  “I know, but think about it. With everything so empty, the police force probably isn’t intact. If they are, they are either so overwhelmed that they couldn’t do much here, or they’ll blame us and we’d be stuck in a jail cell, just waiting to be attacked by some psycho.” I said softly. “When the shit hits the fan, cops and military don’t always help the situation. A lot of people get hurt or end up dead because of ‘orders’ and an over inflated sense of authority.”

  Sully just nodded and walked to the door, pulling Dean with him. Standing between her and the checkout stand, I guided Billie alongside me to follow the boys, careful not to let her see the body.

  “I need you up front with me,” I told Sully when we were out at the truck. “Grab a rifle.”

  We carefully secured the baskets under my bag in the truck bed, and Sully grabbed a rifle from inside the cab, checking that the clip was fully loaded. I strapped my leg holster back on.

  If the drive down from the foothills had made me uneasy, the short trip to the sporting goods store was outright nerve-wracking. I could faintly see people moving several blocks away, but they seemed to not notice us, or be ignoring us. The doors of the store were wide open and the lights were off, just like the grocery store. I went in first, slowly checking the registers and glancing down each isle before going back to the door and waiving my friends in.

  “Tent, sleeping bags, freeze dried food.” I told Sully and Dean, and handed each of them a backpack off the rack next to us to fill. They nodded and went off together to find the supplies.

  “We need weapons and ammo.” I said to Billie, grabbing us backpacks as well.

  “What kind of ammo?” she asked, staring at the two isles of boxes.

  I listed calibers and brands while I hustled to the knives.

  Hopping over the counter, I slid the case open and shoved as many knives into my bag as I could.

  “I grabbed everything they had.” Billie said, showing me the contents of her backpack before zipping it up.

  “Good.” I said.

  “What other weapons do we need?” She asked.

  “We should probably grab a few bats and rackets and a bow too.” I said, walking with her to the archery section.

  I picked out a strong hunting bow, loading the quiver with arrows and clipping a few extra to my backpack. We were on our way back to the front to meet the boys when I spotted a display along one wall that made me stop dead in my tracks.

  “What?” Billie asked, alarmed at my sudden stop.

  I pointed to the display.

  “Swords?” She asked.

  “Swords.” I said, grinning.

  Sword fighting was the only thing I was better at than shooting. I had convinced my parents to let me take lessons from a master every year since I was six. They may not always be the best weapons in times like these when you’d have to take down a lot of people or over long range, but I was damned deadly with them and were perfect for when you needed a silent kill over short range and you didn’t have a silencer. The bow would more than take up the slack for long range.

  Working quickly, I went through their selection of swords, noting that most of them were just decorative but felt their weight in my hands anyways, twirling them around and comparing them to one another. I finally decided on a set of butterfly swords which I slung over my back under the backpack, and a thick broadsword that I just carried by hand, ready to forgo if need be.

  We started walking to the front again when I saw Sully’s head pop out from behind a clothing rack.

  “Hide!” He mouthed, then ducked back down again.

  Chapter 12

  Shoving Billie ahead of me, I dipped under the rack, forcing her inside a rack next to Sully while I took one closer to walkway, folding myself amongst the camouflage pants and jackets. Steadying the broadsword against the thin metal pole, I removed my knife from my pocket, making sure to click the safety off my pistol just in case.

  Slow, heavy footsteps echoed through the building, getting closer. Someone groaned.

  I peeked out from between two coats.

  A young man was shuffling toward us, his boots scuffing the white tile. He looked sick, almost like the other two. His eyes were the same clouded blue like he was blind. He was pale and dirty, his clothes rumpled. As I looked closer I noticed it wasn’t just dirt he was covered with, his whole body was caked in dried blood.

  Someone was following him silently, their gun raised to head height. If I hadn’t been watching I wouldn’t have known the man that was following him had fired. The sick guy lurched forward, his head forced down and fell flat on the floor. The silencer was a nice touch, smart even.

  “Alright. Come on out.” He said.

  None of us moved.

  “Come on, I’m not going to hurt you.” He said again. His voice was soft.

  I hesitated a moment, then slowly slid out backwards, leaving the rack between me and him as I righted myself. I slipped the knife back into my pocket and took out the gun instead.

  Now that my field of view wasn’t hampered by bulky clothing, I got a good look at the guy. He was tall and fairly well built with short spiky hair and well fitted clothing. He looked like the type of guy who hung out at the mall with his buddies and drove a tricked out truck that was more for flash than practical use.

 
“What do you want with me?” I asked.

  I hoped he didn’t actually know my friends were there too.

  “I want to get you and your friends out of here.” He said.

  “Why?”

  “Because there are fucking zombies roaming the streets you twit.” He snapped.

  Clothes rustled and coat hangers clicked as Sully popped up out of his hiding place, his rifle pointing directly at the new guy.

  “Don’t talk to her like that.” Sully said.

  “Cool it.” I told him

  The new guy pointed his gun at Sully.

  “I’m trying to be nice here. We don’t need any more zombies walking around here, and if you fire off any shots, more will come running.” He said.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” I said, trying to sound soothing. “Just lower your gun and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Tell your dog to lower his gun first.” The guy said.

  “Sully,” I said, turning to him.

  Sully glared at the stranger for a moment before slowly lowering his rifle.

  “Let’s go.” I said.

  The stranger mumbled something under his breath as Sully passed him, and Sully spun, aiming right between the stranger’s eyes.

  “Damn it Sully!” I all but shouted, rushing over to him and pushing down on the barrel, forcing him to lower it. “Let’s just get the hell out of here without shooting anyone. There has been enough death the past three days.”

  “He just…” Sully started.

  “I don’t care what he said, right now.” I interrupted.

  The stranger smirked, following us outside where I saw that I was right. He drove a shiny new tricked out truck that looked like it was never going to hall more than a few friends and a keg of beer.

  “Now get the fuck out of here and stay off my turf.” He said as we walked over to our own truck.

  I turned around, contemplating flipping him off but thought better of it. Behind him, I saw movement. Someone was walking up behind him.

  I tilted my chin toward him, wondering if it was one of his cronies or another sick person.

  The guy just ignored me.

  “Well? Are we leaving or what?” Sully asked, annoyed.

  “Hang on,” I said.

  I tried to make out the guys face behind the stranger. He was walking slowly, not saying anything but then he moaned.

  “Shit.” I said, and ran forward, pulling my broadsword out of its sheath.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” The stranger yelled, his eyes going wide at the shining sword in my hands.

  I was a few feet away from him when the person, a woman, walking up behind him grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around and bit into his face.

  The stranger screamed, blood spurting from his wounds, as the woman chewed hungrily on the chunk of flesh she had ripped off.He tried to reach for his gun tucked into the back of his waistband, but the woman tore into him again, her bony fingers gouging deep furrows into his flesh as she bit another chunk of his face off.

  Closing the distance between us quickly, I swung the sword high, chopping off the woman’s head. It fell to the ground with a wet thud, rolling away, her jaw still trying to chew. The body fell instantly. The stranger, however, remained standing, clutching at his face and screaming in agony. My friends raced over, weapons in hand.

  I put my hand to his shoulder, trying to get a good look at him, wondering if there was anything I could do. He shoved me away and sank to his knees, still screaming.

  “Let me look at you! I can help!” I tried to tell him, but his screams drowned me out.

  Blood spurted everywhere; near rivers of it poured out of the wounds- far too much to survive. Finally, he stopped. He didn’t move or make any noise.

  I pressed my fingers to this throat, checking for a pulse.

  “He’s dead.” I said.

  We stared down at him, shocked.

  “What the hell just happened?” Billie asked, her voice quaking.

  “I…” I said, but I couldn’t finish. I was wondering that myself.

  None of us moved, still too horrorstricken to do anything when we heard a soft moan.

  Chapter 13

  The stranger’s lips trembled, his eyelids fluttering.

  “I thought you said he was dead.” Sully whispered.

  “He is. There was no pulse and no one could live through that much blood loss.” I said.

  “Well he’s moving.” Dean pointed out.

  The stranger moaned again.

  “Don’t move!” I said, checking his pulse again. There was nothing. “I don’t understand. I can’t feel a pulse.”

  The stranger shifted, his eyes opening to reveal the same damned cloudy look, his arms reaching for me. I moved back, startled. He sat up, swiping at me. He missed me by inches and growled. I scrambled backwards, the sharp bits of rock on the asphalt bit into my hand, making me gasp.

  The stranger stopped, sniffing the air. More blood oozed down his face as he turned, zeroing in on my hand. He launched himself forward like a rabid dog, teeth gnashing, blood and bits of flesh flying behind him. Instinctively, I whipped my pistol out of its holster and pulled the trigger, hitting the man square in the temple. Pieces of brain and skull flew out the other side of his head, splattering against the ground and my friends’ legs. My ears rang.

  Billie screamed. Dean and Sully blanched, holding back screams of their own.

  I wanted to scream. I wanted to get up and run away. I wanted to be home, sitting on the couch with my parents, putting together a jigsaw puzzle. I wanted to be as far away from this mess and this reality as humanly possible but I couldn’t move or speak. I just sat there, dumbfounded.

  Billie was sitting next to me, crying. Dean and Sully just stood there, looking down on the two bodies like they were trying to convince themselves it wasn’t real. I stared at the decapitated woman, and the third person I had shot in the head in two days. Not only had I committed murder, but I had chopped off someone’s head. How could my friends stand to be near me? I was a monster. I was a serial killer.

  ‘But he was already dead.’ I reasoned with myself. ‘You know that. He had no pulse. He was already dead.’

  “You were right.” I said softly.

  They looked at me, curious.

  “You were right.” I said, a little more clearly. “They aren’t human anymore.”

  I caught their each of their gazes in turn, silently pleading with them to agree with me, to make me feel less like a murderer.

  Something moved behind them, about a block away. A large group of dirty, shambling people were headed our way.

  Scooping up my gun and sword, I pushed my friends to the truck; forcing them inside, making sure they were buckled in, I threw myself into the driver’s seat, latching the seatbelt tight before hitting the gas, hurling us forward and away from the ever-nearing crowd.

  A child- no- what used to be a child stumbled into the street a block away, a gaping wound in her face showing her teeth and jaws. Blood covered her t-shirt.

  “Oh God,” Dean whispered.

  “We have to help her,” Billie said.

  “She’s trying to eat us,” I said.

  “She’s a child for fuck’s sake!” Dean all but screamed.

  “We aren’t stopping.”

  Billie reached to open her door, and I hit the locks.

  “You can’t do this!” She cried.

  “No one is getting out of this truck to play with something that wants to eat them!” I yelled.

  The girl ambled toward us, dead eyes staring straight ahead.

  I sped up, nosing us over just enough to aim the center of the grill at her. My heart skipped several beats; my palms began to sweat, leaving the steering wheel slippery. My friends yelled something at me, but I couldn’t hear them over the sound of my own heart.

  Gripping the wheel tighter, I swung right a few feet short of the child. We clipped her. Her arm, shoulder and all cracked
as it separated from the rest of her body, her hand caught in the grill, blood streaking down the driver’s side of the engine block. The girl fell flat, still for just a moment before she rose unsteadily and followed after us. Bile rose in my throat.

  We tore down the streets, weaving in and out of cars, narrowly avoiding a gaggle of broken, drooling people. No, not people. Zombies. They scratched at the sides of the truck, pounding the metal and glass, trying to get in.

  “Fucking zombies,” I said with a growl, speeding up.

  We reached the freeway in no time, careening down the road at breakneck speed, not slowing until the city behind us became almost invisible in the rearview mirror.

  “Pull over.” Billie said.

  “Why? What’s wrong?” I asked, worried.

  “I don’t think you want me throwing up in here.” She said between her fingers, her hand clamped tight to her mouth.

  I jerked the wheel sideways and slammed on the breaks, parking us on the shoulder. There were no cars here. We would be safe for a few minutes, at least.Billie tumbled out onto the pavement, and puked over the K-rail. Dean groaned, then joined her. Sully and I stayed in the truck, trying to drown out the sounds of their vomiting. I shuddered, clapping my hands to my ears. I could stand looking at dead bodies, but listening to that was making me feel ill.

  “Are you ok?” I asked Sully when it was finally quiet.

  He nodded once, then said “Well, no.”

  “Is there something I can do?”

  He shook his head. “Not unless you can make all of this go away.”

  “I’m sorry.” I said.

  “Five people are dead because of …us.” He said bitterly.

  I knew he wanted to say ‘you’ instead of ‘us’.

  “Three of them were zombies to begin with. The old man was a dumbass for keeping a zombie in his house, and that last guy wasn’t all that smart either. It’s not my fault he turned. I tried to save him.” I argued.

  Sully didn’t answer. He just sat there quietly with his head in his hands.

  I cast around, looking for something to keep me occupied until the twins came back. My right hand was covered in blood. It had left smears on the ignition, wheel, and shifter so I grabbed the rag my dad kept under the seat to clean up. I had nearly everything spotless when Billie and Dean climbed back in, slamming their doors.

  We drove in silence for quite a while before I couldn’t take it anymore. Not wanting to be alone with my thoughts, I flipped down my visor to reveal the cd holder hooked to it. Picking one at random, I slid it into the player, awaiting the soothing music. The Doors’ This is the End started playing.