Rotting Rage

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Rotting Rage Page 11

by Gayle Katz


  My vision is going bad too. I can’t see details anymore. I feel so sick. However, I can see a figure approaching me, but I can’t tell who or what it is. I can hear the creaking of the attic floorboards clearly. The sound is coming closer.

  “Jane.”

  I’m still lost in my thoughts. My head feels heavy.

  “Jane! Can you hear me? It’s Jack.”

  I hear him and I can smell his scent, but I can’t respond. I think I made some noise, but nothing intelligible. My body is tensing up. I can’t breath right. Am I hyperventilating? I’m freaking myself out.

  “Breathe. OK? I’m going to pour some of the sports drink in your mouth.”

  The next thing I know, the liquid is in my mouth running down my throat.

  “Swallow, Jane. Swallow.”

  Gulp. Gulp.

  After I drink the liquid, I relax. The stress on my body is just too much. I can’t handle it. Everything goes black and I pass out. When I come to, I see Jack by my side, watching over me.

  Chapter 20

  ________________________________________

  “How are you feeling, Gorgeous?” he asks.

  “Better. Thanks.”

  “Good to hear. You had me worried there for a while.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Only about 20 minutes. Here,” Jack says, “drink some more.”

  I take the bottle from Jack’s hand and drink down about one-third of the bottle. I twist the cap back on.

  “How many more do we have?”

  “That’s our last one.”

  “Then we have to get back to the basement and fast.”

  “Maybe if we’re quiet, we can sneak downstairs. Zombies are attracted to noise, right? If we leave our shoes up here, we wouldn’t make any noise if we walk around in our socks or bare feet even.”

  “That might work, but they’ll still be able to smell you. When I wasn’t feeling well earlier, I could smell you.”

  “That’d be a problem then. How do I make myself smell bad or blend in?”

  “I don’t know. How do I smell?”

  “Smell you?”

  “Yeah. Smell me.”

  Jack takes a whiff. “Well, you don’t smell like flowers or anything, but you also don’t smell horrible, at least not yet. Maybe it comes and goes as your symptoms come and go?”

  I shrug.

  “How about this? Hug me and let’s see if any of your ‘scent’ transfers to me. Maybe that’ll work. I dunno. Worth a shot I guess.”

  I give him a full body hug and cover as much surface area as possible. I’m not confident this’ll work.

  Afterward, Jack grabs his backpack and searches around. He pulls out my lucky roll of duct tape. As he starts wrapping up his arms, he says, “Ready? Let’s give it a shot. Let’s see if we can make our way back down to the basement. You don’t have much time left and I don’t want to waste it sitting around up here.”

  I look at the bottle in my hand, drink a little more, and replace the cap leaving at least a third left.

  “If you need it, drink it. Once we get to the basement, you’ll have more,” he says as he wraps duct tape around his legs.

  “I think I’m fine right now. I can wait.”

  “Then let me wrap up your arms and legs too. One bite is enough to deal with.”

  I hold out my arms and let him wrap them up. As Jack stoops down to wrap up my legs, I lose my balance for a moment. I’m a little shaky. “Are you OK?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I respond as I down the last of the sports drink. “I feel so out of it.”

  Jack gets to his feet. He holds my face in his hands.

  “We can do this, right? Together, we can do anything. Just hang on, OK? Hang on to us.”

  “Mm hm.”

  Jack grabs his walkie-talkie and hits the talk button.

  “John.”

  “I’m here.”

  “We’re gonna try and make it back to you. Staying in the attic isn’t an option anymore. Jane needs more sports drinks and we’ve run out up here.”

  “Will do. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

  “How’s it look in the house?”

  “There’s not much activity. You’ve got zombies just… I don’t know how to describe it… milling around? I guess there’s no fresh meat for them to prey on. Try not to give them any, OK?”

  “You’re funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny.”

  “Be ready to open the door.”

  “We will.”

  Jack goes over to his backpack and other supplies he brought up from the basement. He hands me one of the two metal baseball bats.

  “These should do the job if we run into trouble.”

  “It’s a good thing we took these with us. We worked hard to get the basement ready in case we had a problem, and now we’re stuck in the attic. Go figure, right?”

  “The joke’s on us, I guess.”

  He takes a few brief seconds to collect his thoughts and composure, and then lifts his head to look me in the eye, “Ready to go?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Jack lowers the attic door and peers through the attic stairs.

  “I don’t see anything on the landing. We might be good to go.”

  “Sh. We have sensitive hearing, remember?”

  “We?”

  “Just go.”

  Jack pushes down the creaky attic stairs and looks around again. Nothing. He walks down them, turns around, and helps me traverse them. He pushes the attic stairs back up. We’re on the second floor landing and the stairs to the first floor are in front of us. As we slowly go down the carpeted steps, even without shoes, we still manage to make noise. Those pesky wooden floorboards underneath are going to be the death of us! A few squeaks later, we’re almost down to the first floor when zombies come down at us from the second floor.

  “How did they get up there?!” Jack damns them. “I didn’t know these zombies walk up steps. Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  Jack sees them coming and stands in-between these new zombies and me. There are three of them. Baseball bat in hand, he starts swinging at them. He manages to smash one of them in the head and knocks another one down the stairs.

  I turn around and see a bunch more at the bottom of the stairs. I lift my baseball bat and begin swinging back and forth at them.

  “Jack! We have more company.”

  “There’s only one more up here. Get behind me and get down.”

  Jack clunks his baseball bat into the head of the remaining zombie on the steps and smashes his skull to pieces. I move behind him.

  “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to make a lot of noise so the rest follow me. As they’re running toward me, you go the other way. Get to the basement. We can’t go back to the attic.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “I have a plan. Don’t worry about me. John knows you’re coming. He’ll let you in. Got it?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “But nothing. It’s time for you to go. Get to the basement!”

  I stare at him.

  “Did you hear me?”

  I nod.

  “Go!”

  Without further discussion, Jack starts yelling and slamming his bat into the floor creating a ruckus. I wrap my arms around myself and pull my head down like a frightened turtle as I press firmly against the wall. I peek my head up and see zombies chasing him. He runs into our bedroom, still making noise. Zombies follow him. After that, I lose track of him.

  I’m alone now. Midway down the stairs leading to the first floor, I take a step. My feet are failing me and my balance is getting worse. I have a painful stiffness in my arms and my legs. I manage to make it down a few more steps without falling, and look around. Even though a flood of zombies is chasing Jack through the house, there are still zombies everywhere. Why are they still here? Maybe it’s the aroma of fresh human flesh in the air? Oh yeah. I take a whiff. I can smell it now. I schle
p a few more steps down the stairs. I can see most of the house from here. Zombies are walking around, stumbling. They don’t seem to notice me. If they do, I can’t tell. I guess I’m starting to look and smell like them. I look at my arms and all I can see is gray. I’m not feeling good.

  A few more steps down the stairs, and I’m finally on the first floor. Still no one notices me. A zombie bumps into me. I turn around and look at him. He looks disgusting. His teeth are rotten and his breath is beyond putrid. Is that what I look like? Observing the area, I begin to feel lost. Am I one of the undead walking around aimlessly in a strange house? What am I supposed to do? It’s right on the tip of my tongue. Try to remember.

  Why am I here? Another zombie comes up to me. She makes a growling noise. I don’t understand. Is she talking to me? I focus on the sounds she’s making.

  “Join us.”

  I look around. Who’s talking? I hold my head with my hands. It’s in my head. The voice is in my head. “What?” I whisper.

  “You’re one of us now. Don’t fight it.”

  I put my hands over my ears and close my eyes. “No. That’s not right. That can’t be true.”

  “You can’t ignore us or who you are. More important, who you’re becoming.”

  “I’m not one of you,” I say aloud. “Stop this!”

  The female zombie points to the mirror hanging on the wall.

  “Look! You’re one of us,” her voice echoes in what’s left of my brain.

  I stagger over to the mirror as best I can and look at myself.

  “What’s happening to me?” I mumble to the mirror. I stare at the monster looking back at me in the reflection. My eyes are glowing red. My skin is paler and grayer than I remember. When did I start to develop sores on my face? “Who are you?” I say getting closer to the mirror. I touch the mirror with my blackened fingertips and then touch my face.

  “Don’t fight what’s happening to you. As one of us, you’re free to do as you please. You answer to no one.”

  She ambles away, leaving me alone to ponder my situation. I stop looking at the creature staring back at me from the mirror and continue lurching through the house. Where am I going? I can’t remember. So I keep walking. The stress on my body is immense. I have trouble moving my fingers and wrists. My legs ache. I fall down. It’s then that I hear a door creak open and a voice call to me. I perk my head up.

  “Jane,” it says, ”Get up and come down here. Now!”

  I look over in the direction of the voice and see the outline of a man behind the door.

  “Jane. It’s John. From work. Don’t you remember me?”

  I stare at him.

  “I need you to help me. Come over here and we can make you feel better, OK?” he lightly taps the floor.

  “Huh?”

  My mind is a mess. What is he saying?

  Still on the floor, I slowly crawl over to him. He looks familiar.

  “That’s good. Keep going,” he says. “Just a little faster, though.”

  After a few more seconds, he reaches out to grab my hand and pulls me to the door. He opens the door a little more, pulls me inside, and quickly closes it again. Once on the other side of the door, he locks it and replaces the barrier behind us. He puts my arm around him and he carries me down another flight of stairs. There’s a dog and it’s growling at me. I don’t blame him. I’m afraid of me too right now.

  “Here,” he says to Mallory. “Take care of her. I need to tell Jack she made it.”

  Chapter 21

  ________________________________________

  Sitting on the cold basement floor, my vision is a mess. The dog is still growling and there’s someone next to me. I look over. It’s a woman.

  “You look terrible,” the voice whispers in my ear. “Is this how I looked when you left me to die in that horrible underground tunnel? Not even your stupid dog recognizes you anymore.”

  I don’t move. What is she saying?

  “How does it feel to lose your mind?” she continues talking.

  “Jack, we got her,” John says into the walkie-talkie.

  “You said she wasn’t doing well. How is she now?” Jack’s voice sounds worried.

  “Not good, but we’ll take care of her,” John responds, honestly.

  “Please do. She’s my life, John. I can’t lose her.”

  “I hear ya. You won’t.”

  “Any luck reaching help?”

  “Not yet. Still trying. I’m not giving up.”

  “Keep me posted on what’s going on down there. I’m gonna see if there’s anything I can do from up here.”

  “Will do.”

  Right. His name is John. I remember.

  “You want this?” the female voice continues to whisper.

  I reach for the bottle she’s holding in her hand, but she pulls it away from my grasp. She twists off the cap and starts drinking it herself. I reach for the bottle again.

  “No. No. None for you,” she says. “You know Jack is a goner. These new zombies are more nimble. They can jump, climb, and go up stairs. It’s only a matter of time before they get him, tear him to shreds, and feast on his innards like a Thanksgiving Day turkey. They’re relentless. Take it from me. I know.”

  Jack! I remember now. I manage to eek out a word or two, “Jack’s… coming… for… me.”

  “No. No, he’s not. Zombies already made it to the attic. Didn’t you hear? They’re ravenous and he’s quite a tasty treat,” she taunts.

  “Jack,” I mutter.

  I can see him now. He’s coming down the stairs to rescue me. A horde of zombies crash through the door. They knock him over. Jack uses his baseball bat to kill some and subdue others. They bite him. I want to help him, but I can’t move. He’s crawling toward me. He’s bleeding. He’s calling out to me. They’re still surrounding him, tearing at his flesh. He’s reaching for me. I can see the pain in his eyes and hear it in his voice. He’s sacrificing himself for me. I can’t take it anymore. I have to help him, but I’m still frozen. A moment later, that light in his eyes is gone. He falls to the floor. Zombies slam his head on the concrete floor and crack it open. Blood and brains are everywhere. They continue gnawing on him, and then walk away. Jack isn’t moving. He’s just a stain, a pile of viscera on the floor.

  “No!” I shout, crying. “You’re lying. Jack is alive.”

  I cover my eyes. I can’t watch anymore. After a few minutes of silence, I open my eyes again and the bloody mess I saw before is gone. It’s my mind playing tricks on me again.

  She’s playing with me and I can’t do anything. My body is weak from changing. My brain can barely keep a thought.

  “You can hear them in your head, can’t you? They want you. Don’t resist them. You can’t. Don’t even try.”

  I make another crying noise. John looks back at us.

  “What are you doing?” he confronts her.

  “What? Nothing,” she plays innocent.

  “Did you give her a sports drink?”

  “Yes,” she lies.

  “Are you sure? She doesn’t look any better. She’s supposed to be getting better. I’ll give her one.”

  I can hear the rest of their discussion, but I can’t understand what they’re saying. Sometimes it all sounds like they’re speaking another language. John grabs a bottle and hands it to me. I try to take it, but my hands don’t work and I drop it on the floor. He picks it up, twists off the cap, and tries to pour some of the liquid down my throat. Some of it makes it down, but I notice that I’m having trouble swallowing now, and I cough it up.

  The radio across the room makes noises. John hands the bottle to Mallory.

  “Make sure she drinks it,” he demands as he gets up and walks over to the radio.

  “How are you feeling, Jane?” Mallory feigns compassion. “Not good, I imagine. You look really bad.”

  I make an attempt to reach for the bottle. She holds it away from me again—teasing me—and then brings it closer.

&nbs
p; “OK, enough of these games, here you go,” she tires of her bullying.

  She puts the bottle in my hand. I drop it and it spills all over the floor and me.

  “Awwww. That’s too bad. If you don’t drink, you’ll be one hundred percent zombie. You know what that means? It means we’re going to leave you behind. Remember how you left me behind in the tunnel? I was scared and you just abandoned me. Now it’s my turn to leave you behind,” she keeps whispering in my ear.

  I knew she looked familiar. I can’t think. I can’t explain why we did what we did right now. My mind is struggling so hard to focus on who I am, where we are, and what we’re doing. But through my infected insanity, a vivid memory from my past slams into the active part of my brain like a freight train, and in that moment, I knew her. Years ago during the outbreak at Scarlet Peak University, Jack and I had made our way across campus and happened upon a frightened girl in the basement of a building. She followed us into an underground tunnel where she began to change. Jack and I restrained her, and we left her there in the darkness. There she would stay while we discovered the origins of the outbreak, were rescued by the military, and escaped with our lives while the campus was obliterated. And beneath it all, she cried out in the darkness, alone and abandoned. But her name wasn't Mallory...

  “...Laura?” My voice trembles at the realization.

  “Yeah, you got it,” she bows. “I guess that brain of yours is still working. If that’s the case, now you know how I felt all those years ago.”

  “Why? Why are you doing this?”

  “Why not? You ruined my life. Now I’m ruining yours.”

  “You cut Jason out of his restraints in the conference room?”

  She smiles an eerie smile. “It didn’t dawn on me until I saw him tied up on the floor. I had this... this flashback that popped into my head. And in that moment, I remembered everything you did to me all those years ago. All I wanted was to get free. I died in that tunnel. It was horrible and it was your fault. And I couldn’t let anyone else go through that, not even someone as sleazy as Jason.”

 

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