He wasn’t sure what was up, but something felt different.
And he didn’t like it.
The only person missing from the group was Steven.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to let Steven wake up in the break room,” Sarah Finley said. “He’s going to be lying right where Malinda had been. That can’t be good.”
“She has a point,” her husband agreed.
“But he wanted to be there,” Rico said. “You have to consider that not everyone grieves the same way. If you isolate him from what he thinks he needs to fix himself, then you’re only adding to the problem. Since you guys have been here, that break room has been his home. He chose that room to take care of Malinda because it had running water and a kitchen. Waking up to the realization that woman is gone will happen no matter what. It will happen if he woke up in a tent, in the bathroom, or yes, even in the room where she died. It just doesn’t matter. Steven will just have to learn to deal with the past. But the past is not what I’m worried about.”
“You’re not worried about Steven’s past?” Debra asked.
Her mother glared at her. This caused the young girl to sink back into her chair and sip on her water. When her mother returned her attention back to Rico, she seemed to relax. Rico found that odd, but let it go.
“No, I’m not so much talking about Steven’s past,” Rico said. “If anything, Steven has one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. His empathy for others is exemplary. It’s us as a group I am worried about. I’m worried about our future. Our future and the undead outside. We have to come up with a plan to secure our future, and we have to do it soon. We can’t just stay here forever. Either that or—”
“Well then,” Quin chimed in. “Since you seem to have it all figured out, yo. What you got?”
“Hey, I never said I had it all figured out. But look at it this way. You guys have been out looting, right?”
Everyone nodded.
“Okay, so… who is to say someone doesn’t come sticking their noses in our business? This place is a perfect target for looters.”
“Man, we ain’t got no food up in here!”
“That may be true, Q.” Rico patted the pistol on his hip. “But we have guns and ammo. And lots of it.”
“I see where this is going,” Drew Finley said.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Sarah gritted her teeth and crossed her arms. She looked so red in the face that she might explode at any moment.
“You okay?” Rico asked.
“I’ll tell you when I’m not okay, okay?” Sarah stood from her chair and stomped angrily away.
Rico threw up his arms with confusion. “What did I say?”
“Nothing, you said nothing,” Drew assured.
“She’s crazy,” Debra said.
“Debra!” her father scolded.
She shrank into herself.
“My wife… she isn’t angry. She’s sick.”
“What do you mean?” Rico asked.
“She crazy, yo!”
Debra giggled. Her father glared at her. This made her quit laughing.
“Let me explain,” Drew said. “My wife needs medication. Medication that we ran out of two days ago. She’s bipolar. Without the meds, she’ll get worse. Her emotions are going to be amplified. Like a rollercoaster. Highs and lows. Only, without what she needs… her highs are going to be very high. She’ll make you think she’s on drugs, she’s so happy.”
“And her lows?” Angie asked.
Drew sighed. “Her lows are bad. Any little thing will trigger it. She can’t control it.”
“Then what did I say to upset her?” Rico asked.
“It could have been a number of things,” Drew said. “But if I had to pinpoint it on any one thing—it was suggesting we aren’t safe here. No one wants to hear that. No matter how true it may be. And like the highs of a rollercoaster, her lows are very low. Like I said, any little thing can trigger it. She will be rainbows and sunshine one minute and Hell’s wrath the next. I have learned to live with it. I love her. As long as she has the medication that she needs, for the most part it stays in check.”
“That’s not a problem, yo.” Quin nodded. “We can get that shit. We need to do another raid anyway. You feel?”
“That would be good, since it was my fault for not telling you all about this earlier. I was hoping we would be rescued before she started going downhill,” Drew said. “In the meanwhile, everyone please just give her some space. Above all, realize that she isn’t upset. She just needs to feel safe.”
“Well, if that’s what she needs—this isn’t the place,” Rico said. “I agree. We can do another raid. Get some more supplies. We are running low on some of the food items already, but staying here is a big mistake.”
“What do you have in mind?” Drew asked.
Before Rico could explain, Bruce Lee walked around handing out grilled cheese sandwiches. When the Asian handed out the last one, he turned off the grill, sat down beside Debra, and began eating. Rico watched as Debra batted her eyes and smiled at the young man. When Rico looked to her father, he didn’t appear to have noticed.
“What do you have in mind?” Drew asked again.
“Oh, right.” Rico nodded, taking his gaze away from Debra and Patrick, who were both sharing playful glances at one another. “I… um. I think that it would be best to move camp. I don’t expect to do it overnight, but we can’t stay here. I think that once we have the supplies we need, along with the medication for Sarah, and when Steven comes back around—it will be time to leave. It’s not safe here for two reasons. One is obvious.” He pointed toward the front of the store. “The dead outside clearly want in. As each day passes, more and more of them gather. Before we know it, they will be spilling out into the street. And that’s saying a lot considering how large the parking lot is out there. I don’t know about you, but I find it hard to sleep at night knowing that we could be overrun at any moment. All it takes is one single crack in the glass for the dead to come crawling in. And no amount of ammo is going to take care of that. We need to find somewhere safe. Somewhere secluded. Somewhere less populated.”
“I like that idea,” Debra said, still casting playful glances at Patrick.
The Asian man didn’t seem to mind. He played right back.
“What made you decide against going to a military base? I thought you wanted to go to Fort Hood?” Angie said.
Rico took a deep breath and puffed it out. “
Yeah, I know. I’m conflicted. I think what had me change my mind is the fact that the undead tend to gather in once place. As the numbers grow, more and more seem attracted. The radio instructed everyone who could flee to head to a military base. Well, if a large number of humans gather in one place, then don’t you suppose the undead can’t be far from sniffing them out? Then the undead numbers will grow until either the military kills them all, or gets overrun by zombies. Either way, our best bet is to be where there are the least amount of zombies for us to have to defend against.”
“But where would we go?” Angie asked.
“I don’t have that figured out yet,” Rico said. “But my bet is north. When we do our next outing, we can try to pick up a road map or something. We can pick out a destination on the map as a group.”
“You said something about others trying to raid this place,” Drew said.
“Yes.” Rico nodded. “Right now, I don’t think the undead outside are all that much to worry about. Yes, their numbers are growing, but realistically, they would have already gotten in if they were going to. What worries me the most is people like us. We can’t be the only survivors. If you think we are, then you’re only fooling yourself. This place,” Rico waved a hand around, “is exactly the type of store I would raid. Food and medicine aren’t the only things people need. Guns and ammunition are essential for survival. In our current situation, protection is at the top of the list. It’s only a matter of time before someone else gets the idea and co
mes busting down the doors to steal from us. If having a horde of ghouls in the parking lot doesn’t give away the fact that we’re in here, then finding us during the raid will. It plays out one of two ways in my head. One, they get in and play nice. Everyone wins. We all team up.”
“Safety in numbers,” Drew Finley said.
“Right,” Rico agreed. “But then there is the second potential outcome. The outcome that I feel is a hell of a lot more likely.” He took a deep breath, and said, “Outcome number two has us at a disadvantage. If others come and try to raid this place, they either must have a lot of manpower, or are totally insane. With the amount of undead outside, you would need either an army, or think you are God, to get in here. So, if someone does break in, then we are in for a rude awakening. Whoever breaks in is not going to want to play nice.”
“Man, I bust up a nigga if he try any shit!”
“That’s all well and good. And impressive sounding, too. But if I can help it, I would rather just avoid the situation all together,” Rico said. “We already have the van. If we can, I think it would be smart to get a second one. Load each van with guns, gear, and food. Split up the people that ride in each van into two teams. If something happens to either team, the other one still has what they need to keep going. And that’s exactly what I want to do—go.”
“Go where?” Debra asked.
“The country. Out in the sticks. Some place near running water, and a place where wild game is plentiful. As far away from other humans as possible.”
There were a few minutes of silence while everyone finished their food and sipped on drinks.
Drew Finley cleared his throat. “I agree. Steven should be coming around soon. I’m surprised he’s still asleep now. Once we know he’s going to be okay, we can plan another raid. Get another van, medication for my wife, and a road map.”
Rico nodded.
For the first time since they all started eating, Drew’s eyes went wide as he looked over at his daughter. He stood to his feet, set his plate in his chair, and grabbed Debra by the arm. “Get up.”
“What? I didn’t do anything. I’m still eating.”
“You’re done eating when I say you’re done eating. Now get up, young lady.”
She grumbled and did as her father said. Rico and the others watched as Drew dragged his daughter by the elbow away from the dining area.
“She’s a little young for you, don’t you think,” Angie asked, glaring at Bruce Lee.
The Asian shrugged, a sheepish grin plastered across his face.
“That’s my boy, yo!” Quin leaned up in his chair, fist-bumping Patrick.
Patrick blushed and went back to finishing his food. He may not have spoken much English, but it was obvious he knew what had just happened. Why Quin had gotten all excited. Why Drew had suddenly grown angry.
Everyone finished their food in silence. When they were all done, Quin took Angie by the hand and led her back toward the tent they shared. Rico watched them leave, vulgar images of flesh against flesh flashing in his mind. The thought made him boil with rage on the inside. Patrick began picking up the mess left behind. After he had all the plates together and double-checked that the grill was off, he made his way toward the break room to wash the dishes. Rico didn’t follow him this time. Wasn’t in the mood to help. His mind was on other things. Angie things. Quin wasn’t good for her. And he didn’t see why she was attracted to him.
However, that wasn’t the only thing he didn’t see.
Had he gone with Patrick to the break room, he would have seen that Steven wasn’t in his bed. He would have seen that Steven was gone.
Chapter 26
Steven felt the clouds underneath his feet as he walked on air. It wasn’t the first time he had ever felt this way. He was drowsy while being wide awake—floating above his own skin. Above everything. The drugs took the edge off reality.
Before, when he stood at the storefront window of his previous place of employment, it made him sick to look at the droves of undead outside. Made his stomach churn to see the rotting corpses up close. The festering decay. Maggots writhing in and out of eye sockets and beneath serrated skin. The black flies buzzing overhead. Bones jutting from elbows and jaws. Skin torn from muscle. But most of all, those eyes. The milky white glare. Before, he couldn’t bring himself to look them in the eyes.
What he did to Malinda had made him feel less than human. Made him feel ashamed. Unworthy. Coupled with the emotional distress he knew he was going through—like any sane person would—the drugs they forced on him to sleep helped quell the internal carnage.
In a moment where he should have felt sickness and despair, he felt alive. Energized. Untouchable.
“I should feel sorry for what I did to you, Malinda,” he muttered under his breath, making his way toward the double doors. “But I don’t. You’re free now.”
He had a better full frontal view of the zombies outside from this position. Bodies lined the doorway looking in. Packed tightly, shoulder to shoulder, the creatures pounded against the door moaning with excitement at the fact that they could see him. The drugs numbed the sounds they made to a dull throb.
It was as if he was watching a movie on a large screen TV.
Steven grabbed the door handle. The steel was cold to his touch.
In the parking lot, the moonlight cast an eerie glow on the ravenous horde. Bodies shifted in the darkness in an unholy dance. With his hand still on the door handle, he looked directly at the zombie before him, pressed against the thick glass. Its face was a distortion of decay, dried blood, and mashed skin as the ghoul was forced against the door by the mob behind it. The creature still managed to snarl and chomp its teeth at Steven, clearly eager to break free of the invisible barrier. Touch his living skin. Feel his warm body. And yes, taste his meaty substance.
What would it feel like to be eaten alive? In his state of transcendence, would he even feel it? Would he somehow mesh with the cannibal corpse and become part of its consciousness?
He stood there for a long time watching the dead, wondering what it felt like to rot. Decay. With a grin on his face, he continued his stare. The zombies stared back, their eyes fixed on him with raw hunger. Steven looked past the twisted Earthly façades in hopes of seeing something remaining of their lost humanity. As he did, he noticed something familiar. It all made sense now. It was his job to open the store. These were customers. There were so many of them because it was Black Friday. Academy was having the biggest sale of the year. He’d seen it before. Getting to work at 7:30AM even though the store didn’t open until 10:30 that morning. There were already hundreds of people out front. Some of them were sitting in chairs at the front door waiting to be let in. First dibs on the sales. Others were camping in tents, still not awake yet, but they would be soon. Steven had to force his way through the crowd to get to the front door. Once he got inside, he thought the crowd would force their way in. Somehow, someway, they hadn’t. He got in and managed to lock the door behind him.
“We’re no different than you, you know?” he said, looking at a ghoul slobbering against the glass. “Once I did open the doors to let all those shoppers in, they were nothing but a bunch of animals. Hmm, that’s all we are. Animals. You want me to let you in, don’t you? So you can go shopping. Is that what you want?”
The zombies groaned, pounding against the glass.
Reality shifted in Steven’s head. It felt like a locomotive sped through his mind and faded into the distance with debris following in its wake. His spirit returned from above and into its suit of flesh. Steven’s jaw dropped as the flood of emotions threatened to drown him.
“I did a bad thing,” Steven continued, taking his hand away from the door handle. “I… I killed a woman. I didn’t mean to. I’ve never killed anyone before. I didn’t mean it. It was an accident. You understand, don’t you? Of course you do. You don’t want to eat people. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for that space dust to infect you. It wasn’t your fa
ult. It was an accident. Just like what I did was an accident. I understand now. You’re not the bad guys here. You’re the victims. And that makes us the bad guys. Because… because we let this happen. We let it happen again. We should have fixed this. Should have had a plan. But we didn’t. Why? Why didn’t we have a plan?”
Steven pounded his fist against the glass. The zombies became even more excited.
“I can give you what you want.” Steven produced a revolver from his back pocket and pointed it at the glass. At the zombies behind it. “I can end this for you. I can end this for everyone. I can end your pain, but is that what you really want? Or is what you want more selfish? Like the rest of the world. You want only what’s good for you. You want to eat me, don’t you? You want to come into my store and eat me and my friends. You want to eat me because I killed a woman. It was an accident. I’m not a doctor. How was I supposed to know how much insulin to give her? I was only trying to help. I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”
Steven sighed and lowered the gun. He stared out at the moon for a long time. The zombies shuffled about in the parking lot like waves in the ocean. The ghouls before him at the door pressed their bodies against it in hopes they could be all that much closer. His grip tightened on the butt of the gun.
A single tear fell from Steven’s right eye. The drugs in his system were no longer strong enough to push all the pain away. Knowing that made him angry. Knowing that he would feel even worse come tomorrow when the drugs wore completely off made his stomach feel like it was in his throat.
He swallowed dry and hard.
The gun rose to his temple as tears began to fall.
***
A tent wasn’t much protection from anyone or anything wanting to get inside, but the four walls and roof brought isolation Angie so desperately needed. At least with the rest of the world blocked away, she could relax and pretend. Tonight was an ordinary night like when she was just a kid. Nothing better to do than relax with a friend by her side while mindlessly watching Ghostbusters on a DVD player. The only thing missing was popcorn and Cokes.
The Dark Times: A Zombie Novel Page 21
