Watch the World Burn

by Amber White

  “Not gonna happen.” I muttered, quickly ejecting it and selecting another.

  It turned out to be Foreigner. That was much better.

  “What’s going to happen now?” Dean asked between songs.

  “Now that we all agree we’re being overrun by zombies, we try to find a safe place to bunk down for the night, away from people.” I said.

  “These can’t be zombies.” Sully said. “Zombies aren’t real.”

  “Weren’t you one of the people trying to convince me they were, just this morning?” I asked.

  “Yes, but,”

  “But nothing. Those were zombies. You saw one reanimate right before your eyes.” I said, cutting him off.

  “But…”

  “No buts. Now drop it.” I said, my grip tightening around the wheel.

  I had to keep telling myself the people I killed were not people. They were zombies and this was all some freaky rendition of Resident Evil or something.

  Chapter 14

  We didn’t sleep much at first. The others would bed down together in the truck or tent, gravitating toward one another and away from me. As a result, I usually pulled night guard duty, getting what sleep I could while one of the others drove, which wasn’t much- maybe a few hours a day. My dreams were haunted by the faces of the zombies I killed, except in my dreams, they were human, smiling and happy before I pulled out my gun or sword. Sometimes, I would see my parents too. I would be standing across the street from my mother; she would be calling out to me, arms stretched wide, waiting for me to fill them but zombies were surrounding her, getting closer. I called out to her. She didn’t hear me. The zombies ganged up on her, forcing her to the ground, screaming as they ate her alive. I was with my father, a little girl sitting next to him as he taught me to reload. I looked up at him, expecting to see his smiling face but instead it was putrefied- flesh oozing from his cheeks, grinning down at me with blackened teeth, hungry.

  We traveled for days, not caring where we were or where we were going, as long as we stayed away from the main roads and the big cities, scavenging from stores and houses when we needed to. At some point, we were in a small suburban area, looking for other people when I decided to try to open the back door of a promising looking house with a kitchen full of cabinets.

  “What are you doing?” Billie said, walking up behind me.

  “Br…eaking into this house,” I said.

  “What?” She said, raising her eyebrow and giving me a strange look.

  “I tried to change it at the last second and just couldn’t.” I said.

  For the record, the house didn’t have much in the way of usable supplies, but did have a lot of clothes that fit us fairly well.

  After they warmed back up to me, I worked with Billie and Dean slowly, getting them comfortable enough firing different guns before working on their aim. They still stuck to the axe and fire poker whenever we stopped somewhere, which was how I preferred it anyways. After they and Sully all got into minor scuffles with some zombies they went easier on me, actually sitting next to me around the fire on the rare nights it was cold enough to need it. I wondered how long it had been since everything went down; how long I could keep this up without turning into a violent psychopath. I wasn’t allowing myself to process what I had done and what I was still doing. I just kept telling myself it was to protect my friends, and that all the killing was self-defense but something inside me was crumbling bit by bit each day. There were no outlets to channel my pain, fear, and anger through except to kill every cannibalistic, decaying creature I came across.

  It had been a while since we used a real bathroom. Driving in the middle of nowhere, with no cover made bathroom breaks for me and Billie uncomfortable. So when we found a desolate rest stop, it didn’t take us long to hop out of the car and check it out. The boys took their side, well-armed. Billie followed close behind me, watching our six while I strode purposefully into the woman’s side. Dried blood stained the floor, and flies filled the air, congregating on the windows and bodies. It smelled rank.

  “Ugh, this is horrible. Why are there no doors on these stalls?” I asked, stepping over the rotting form of a headless woman lying on the ground. In the far stall, another woman, large and leathery, sat on the handicap toilet, pants around her ankles. “You alive there cupcake?” I asked, tapping her with the edge of my sword.

  The woman moaned, her head slowly rising to look at me with blank, dead eyes.

  My sword slid easily into her face.

  If people had survived the outbreak, they were in hiding or too far ahead for us to catch up. One weary night, Sully spotted a military base just a few miles off.

  “We need to get in there.” He said, turning to me.

  “It might be dangerous.” I told him.

  “It’s the National Guard.” He said.

  “Yeah, and they aren’t immune from infection. If even just a few of them turned when this started, then that place could be crawling with zombies by now. We’d be walking into our doom.”

  “Did you just say ‘doom’?” He said with a laugh.

  “Yes. Yes I did. I couldn’t say ‘walking into a trap’ because it’s not like they’re luring us in there.”

  He just shook his head, laughing.

  “I’m glad to see your humor has returned.” I said.

  “So are we going up there or not?” Dean said, leaning forward between the seats.

  “I thought you were asleep.” I said.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” Dean said.

  “If you guys really want to give it a shot, then fine, but not tonight. We’ll wait until daybreak.”

  “Why?” Billie asked quietly.

  I let my head fall into my hands, groaning. “Really guys?”

  “What?” They said together.

  “It’s dark. We can’t see any lights up there. If they are overrun by zombies, we won’t be able to see them as well as we could during the day. If there are humans there, we could get shot, since it’s dark and they wouldn’t be able to see us very well. Seeing a pattern here?”

  “Then what are we going to do tonight?” Billie asked.

  “What do we do every night?” I said.

  “Oh God, I cannot stand another night in this truck or shoved together in the tent. I need space when I sleep!”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Sully asked her.

  “How about we stay in that house?” She said, pointing to a small, old house nearby.

  “I don’t know…” Sully said, hesitant.

  “You want to go into a huge military base where we run the risk of being surrounded by the living dead, but a tiny house is what you’re unsure of?” I said.

  He rolled his eyes at me.

  “It looks like there are three rooms, tops. We could clear it easily and it would be nice to sleep inside a house again.” I said.

  Billie grinned, bouncing a little in her seat. “Think I can get a shower?”

  “Maybe. We don’t know if the water is still on, if it was on in that house to begin with.” I said.

  “You really could use a shower.” Dean said, teasing her.

  “Look who’s talking. You smell worse than a wet dog.” Billie said, pinching her nose and wafting the air in front of her for effect.

  “Do you want me to go in there with you?” Sully asked me.

  “No, they can’t shoot and I don’t want them stuck out here without protection.” I said, pointing to the back seat.

  I pulled the truck into the driveway, where I turned around and backed up to the tiny little front porch of the house. I got out, taking an extra pistol with me. Sully slid over to the driver’s side, gripping the Winchester tightly, eyes darting all around as I approached the front door.

  The windows were all boarded up, the weeds overgrown and creeping up the sides of the building. I tried the front door, it was unlocked.

  “Imagine the luck,” I said to myself.

  The inside of the
house was miniscule. I searched every inch of the house, looking for people, animals, and anything that might allow someone or something to sneak in. The great room was empty except for a small potbellied stove. Leaves and dust carpeted the floor. A small room in the back that was probably once a bedroom was even dirtier. The only remaining room was an extremely small bathroom with tiny sink, an ancient toilet, and a claw footed bathtub so close to the toilet you could soak your feet while taking a crap. I tried the faucet. The pipes groaned and shuddered, but nothing came out. I walked back outside and waved the others in.

  “No water, but everything seems to be sealed tight.” I said when we were all standing in the great room.

  Billie made a face.

  “Just use the hand sanitizer we picked up.” I said, shrugging.

  Snatching a bottle of hand sanitizer and a light, Billie marched off into the bathroom, grumbling about ‘inhuman living conditions’.

  “Ugh.” I said, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. I was tired.

  Fingers fumbling, I undid the ties on my sleeping bag and contemplated just throwing it over me, sleeping with my back against the wall.

  “A hot shower, a soft bed, and some real food would be great right about now.” Dean said, sitting down a few feet away, crashing onto his sleeping bag.

  “Tell me about it.” Sully said.

  “Has anyone else wondered why only the raw meat and fresh fruit and vegetables have gone bad?” Dean asked.

  “Preservatives.” I said, yawning.

  “What about them?”

  “Food producers have been adding special preservatives to everything they can for years. Some of this stuff is supposed to last almost a decade, as long as it doesn’t have to be refrigerated.”

  “How do you know all this?” He asked.

  “I paid attention in school.” I said, closing my eyes, and falling asleep.

  I sat bolt upright. Something was moving outside.

  Chapter 15

  It was still dark out, but the moon was low in the western sky. I had been asleep for hours when I heard it: footsteps crunching on the ground outside. Finding a gap in the wood boarding a window, I looked out. A young girl with a shotgun was walking around the truck, trying to reach the door handles.

  “What is it?” Sully asked, coming to my side.

  I jumped at the sound of his voice.

  “It’s a little girl.” I said.

  “What?”

  “You know, a small child.”

  “I know what…” He said, slightly flustered. “What is she doing out there? Is she…human?”

  “I think so. She’s trying to get into the truck.”

  “Should we do something?”

  I thought for a moment. “Cover me. I’ll take the sword out and make sure she is still human. If she is, I’ll find out what she wants.”

  I unsheathed the butterfly sword, holding the blades together and crept outside. Looking around quickly, I noted that no one seemed to be around, and walked closer to the little girl.

  She was filthy. Sitting by the front tire in the moonlight, she looked deathly pale. Her long brown hair was severely tangled, dirt caked her whole body. The gun she was carrying lay abandoned at her feet; she was sniffling, wiping tears from her eyes with miniscule hands.

  “Hey kid,” I said, my voice so low I thought she might not hear me.

  She looked up shyly, took one look at the sword, and yelped.

  “Please don’t hurt me.” She begged.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you kid.” I said. “Are you here by yourself?”

  She nodded. “I was in the house down the street with my Daddy, but he went outside and didn’t come back.” She said.

  “When was this?”

  “Umm, when the sun was still up.”

  “Are you hurt? Have you been bitten or scratched?” I asked.

  “No,” She said, shaking her head rapidly.

  “Come on inside with me.” I said, my voice soft.

  She moved to pick up the gun.

  “Why don’t I just take that from you. Wouldn’t want any accidents would we?” I said, kneeling down to take the weapon.

  I check it. It was loaded.

  As I guided her through the door, I cast around me again. There didn’t seem to be anybody or anything in the dark.

  “So what are you doing out here if you were in a house?” I asked.

  “I wanted to look for my Daddy.” She said.

  “Why did he go outside? Do you know?”

  She shook her head. “He just said he would be right back.”

  “Then why did you go outside?” Billie asked her.

  “Because he might be hurt.” The little girl said.

  “What’s your name kid?” I asked.

  “Camilla,” She said.

  “Camilla honey, where is your Mommy?”

  “She got sick and went away to the hospital.”

  “So it was just you and your Dad? No siblings or friends?”

  “No. Will you help me find him?”

  I looked to my friends, wide awake and staring at me. “In the morning.”

  “No! We need to look now! He might be hurt or scared.” Camilla said.

  “It’s too dangerous for us out there at night. We need to wait until it’s bright out.” I told her.

  “Then I’ll just go without you. I’m not scared.” She said, and tried to grab her gun back.

  “Oh, no, you’re staying here.” I said, holding the shotgun away from her.

  “I have to find my Daddy!” She said.

  “You’re a brave little girl, and your Dad knows that, but he would be very upset if he found out you were wondering alone outside at night.” I said.

  She gave me a look.

  “Let me talk to my friends for a minute ok?” I said. She nodded.

  We set her in the corner of the room furthest from the door and we stood on the opposite side of the house, glancing up at her every few seconds.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked.

  “You’re asking us?” Dean said.

  “Looks like it.” I said.

  “We can’t let her go out there.” Billie said.

  “I know. But if we tried to keep her here, she’d be likely to give us the slip.” I said.

  “So, what if two of us stay here, and the other two go out looking for the guy?” Sully asked.

  “That might work.” I said.

  “Good, you and Billie stay here, I’ll go out with Dean and-“

  “Not on your life.” I said, cutting him off.

  “Which one of us knows how to track?” I asked.

  “You,” He said.

  “Which one of us knows how to survive out in the wilderness?”

  “You do,”

  “And of the four of us, who can handle firearms?”

  “You and me.”

  “That’s right. I know how to stay alive out there, I know how to track. We both know how to shoot. I’m going out there with Dean. You are staying here with Billie and Camilla.” I said.

  “But-” He started.

  “No. You are staying here to protect the girls. And if you argue with me, so help me God, I will duct tape you to a wall.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.” I said, glaring at him.

  Sully grunted, walking off to sit by a window with his rifle perched in his lap, swearing under his breath.

  “Come on, Dean. Grab the broadsword.” I said.

  “Um, why am I taking the broadsword?” Dean asked.

  “Because they need to keep the axe here, and we need to make sure we can…” I trailed off, looking at the frightened, defiant little girl in the corner.

  “Right. We need to be silent. Let’s go.” He said, glancing over at the girl then back to me.

  “Are you sure you want to take him if you need to be quiet, let alone silent?” Billie asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

  “Oh, ha h
a.” Dean said.

  “He’ll do fine. Besides, would you really trust him with taking care of a kid?” I said.

  “Touché” Billie said, grinning.

  “So you’re really going to look for my Dad?” Camilla asked.

  “Yes we are, sweetie. Can you tell us his name and what he looks like?” I said.

  “His name is Leon Redfield and he looks like this,” She said, pulling a folded photo out of her pocket. “This was taken back before Mommy got sick.”

  The picture she handed me was a happy, smiling family out in a park. A man with shaggy brown hair was holding onto a woman and Camilla, smiling for all he was worth. The woman was plump and smiling, one hand around her husband, the other griping Camilla tightly. The picture looked fairly recent. If it wasn’t for the dirt, the kid would look exactly the same. I showed the picture to the others.

  “Can I have it back now?” Camilla asked.

  “Here you go,” I said, handing it back to her.

  She clutched it to her chest, rocking herself side to side, like she was hugging it.

  “Alright,” I said. “Let’s start looking.”

  Chapter 16

  The night seemed somehow colder; darker than it had just minutes previously. It smelled like hot dust and cold pine. A soft breeze blew through the leaves of bushes and trees, making a hissing sound like running water.

  Studying the ground closely, I looked for signs that an adult male had been through the area recently. Not far from the truck, I picked up shoeprints in the dust, headed toward the base. With the desert at our backs, we set out toward the tree line masking the lower walls of the base.

  “This way,” I whispered.

  The tracks wove through the trees, leaving broken branches in their wake.

  “What were you doing?” I whispered, more to myself than to Dean.

  “Do you think he’s…zombified yet?” Dean asked.

  “He wasn’t when he was walking through here. He wasn’t shuffling his feet.”

  Far ahead of us, something moved behind the trees. People were talking. As we got closer, we could see a small light, like a lantern turned down low.

  Dean tripped on a root, crashing into the trunk, cursing loudly.

  The talking stopped.

  Someone started walking toward us, trying to be silent. They had military training, for sure. Grabbing Dean, I dragged him inside a hollowed out log and hid.