by Jason Deyo
“Damn it, Em! That was a long time ago. I haven’t talked with her in forever. You know that.” He pushed the magazine into his pistol and pulled back the slide, arming the weapon. Keith took a deep breath. “I have plenty of bags for both of us. Everything that’s mine is just as much yours. We will be together the entire time.” He powered his phone on and looked at the screen. The phone couldn’t find a signal and had very little battery life left. “I couldn’t make a phone call if I wanted to. The phones are useless.” He tossed it on the couch.
She watched it hit the couch. Amelia thought about the phone and the impact of not having it. Once the battery dies, she will lose so much. The phone wasn’t just for calling, it held memories. A collection of birthdays, vacations, school plays, pictures at the park, all of which would be lost forever. “I can’t leave. I can’t go with you. I’m not ready. I can’t go without my son.”
“Oh my God, Em! We will come back. As soon as they figure out what this is. I promise we will be back as soon as they find a cure for this thing.” He got on his knees in front of her. “Em, I love you so much and I only want the best for both of us. I only want the best for the three of us.”
“I can’t say goodbye yet. It’s not time for me to go. We have so much food here and we could stay quiet and we could just lay low. They’ll never know we’re inside.”
Keith walked to the stairs and looked up the steps. They appeared longer and steeper. He knew he would never be able to get her to leave, but he couldn’t leave without her. The only way she would leave would be to secure or kill the creature that used to be his son. Would it be kinder to eliminate his son than to allow him to live the way he was? He didn’t know if he was feeling pain or what was going on with him. Half the city was dead and from the looks of it most of the world was affected. Keith imagined there were doctors working on a cure, but could only assume many of the people capable of creating a cure were possibly in the same condition as Jimmy.
Keith knew what he had to do. For the safety of his wife, he had to put Jimmy out of his misery. He understood Amelia would probably never forgive him, but he had to do it to ensure her safety. He turned to her and said, “I’ll give you no reason to stay,” and ran up the stairs.
“Keith!” Amelia yelled.
By the time Amelia made it to the stairs Keith was standing at Jimmy’s door. “Keith, don’t you do anything to our boy!” she said, running up the stairs.
Keith had his pistol hanging at his side and reached for the door. He could feel Amelia’s frustration as she barreled up the steps. He forced himself not to turn to her. He was prepared for the onslaught of attacks from her as he concentrated on his next move. “I have to do this, Em. I can’t let our son go through this. It’s not fair to him.” He spoke loudly as he tried to fight his own emotions; there was no need to stay quiet anymore.
Jimmy was now banging on the door. Each violent strike shook the pictures on the walls. In between each blow to a low growl and clawing could be heard.
“I beg of you, don’t do this Keith. Please Keith,” she said from behind him.
“Em, this has to be done. We are not safe as long as he is like this. I have to do this before something bad happens.” Keith moved his hand forward and just before he touched the door, Amelia fired the twelve gauge into the wall. A two-inch circular hole with a few smaller holes surrounded the center hole emerged at knee height on the left side of Jimmy’s door. Keith jumped and turned to Amelia who was standing in the bathroom. She racked another shell into the chamber, expelling the red shell.
“Something bad is about to happen,” Amelia said as he began to move toward her.
Keith stood defeated. He never feared his wife, but knew if he did not leave she was going to put a hole in him.
“I’ll leave.” Keith turned and walked down the stairs.
As he moved from the door, Amelia could see two small fingers poke through the shotgun hole. “There you are baby,” she said quietly.
Keith watched his wife from the bottom of the steps. He could not see what she was so enthralled by at Jimmy’s door, but knew he could not stay and find out. “Amelia. Amelia!” He screamed to gain her attention. As soon as she faced him he spoke again. “I’ll be back after I go to the barn and make sure it’s safe. I hope you’ll join.”
She acknowledged his gesture by turning from him and facing her son’s door again. Keith examined the backyard from the broken window and ran into the woods.
Amelia slid down against the wall and sat at the top step watching the small fingers examine the new hole in the wall.
Chapter 5
Cold Ravioli
Amelia opened her eyes as the afternoon sun shone fiercely through the skylight above her, heating the second story of the house. She breathed deeply as she leaned forward and stretched her arms above her. The house was abnormally quiet and she quickly realized the electricity had shut off while she was sleeping.
It always amazed her how noisy her home was. Even when nothing was running, she could hear the hum of the house fan or the clicking of the thermostat. Now all she could hear was a slight shuffle coming from her son’s room.
As Amelia stood up, thousands of small needles stabbed her feet as the blood rushed back into them. She held onto the railing believing her numb legs would soon give out from under her. Once she was able to stand on her own she picked up the shotgun by the barrel and then rested it comfortably in her arms.
Amelia moved to her son’s bedroom door after realizing his small fingers were no longer examining the shotgun shell hole. She placed her ear close to the door, stopping after her strawberry blond hair touched the white paint. She could hear movement inside the room, and then a small groan. She could tell her son was on the far side of the room.
She turned the doorknob and gently and slowly pushed it open, just enough to see her little boy. Jimmy was facing away from her, rhythmically swaying back and forth. Satisfied, she turned the doorknob, closed the door, and then quietly released the knob, preventing it from snapping shut.
Amelia opened the upstairs windows and a fresh breeze blew the beads of sweat from her head. The street was quiet. She began to think about what she could do for her son. As a mother, she focused on the fact that every boy needs to eat.
Keith never took the time to heat his Chef Boyardee canned ravioli. Immediately after opening the can, he dipped a fork into it and started to eat. This habit started soon after Jimmy began asking for bites. Jimmy would sit next to his father after he had heated up the ravioli on the stove.
Keith always asked his son if he wanted any, but he always refused. Jimmy would sit and wait for his father to fully heat up the pasta, and then as he was about to take his first bite, he would ask innocently, “Can I have a bite?”
Keith tried to ignore him, but soon he would ask for another bite. He would push his plate toward him, but Jimmy was content eating after his father. Keith was a good father but sometimes had a short fuse. He did get frustrated with the endless requests for bites, so one day he poured the cold canned pasta onto a plate and began to eat it. It did not take long for his son to catch the scent of the tomato sauce and he’d come running.
The first bite shocked Jimmy and he couldn’t believe the assault to his taste buds. The texture was off. The ravioli were supposed to be soft, but now he had to bite into the hard pasta. He left, insulted his father would play such a cruel joke.
Keith smiled knowing he could finally eat in peace, until his son came back. To his surprise, Jimmy asked for another bite. From that point on, it was not uncommon to see the two boys in Amelia’s life sharing a single plate of ravioli.
*****
Amelia snuck into her son’s room with a paper plate of cold ravioli. Jimmy looked at the opposite wall staring at something that only he could see. “Hey honey,” she said with a shaky voice. Jimmy immediately turned, snapping out of his trance. He twisted his neck and faced his mother. His eyes were small light blue orbs in the middle of a g
ray hazy cloud, opened wide with excitement. His mouth jutted open and closed as if he were biting into an imaginary piece of meat.
She held the paper plate out in front of her and Jimmy reached for what Amelia believed to be the plate. A small smile spread across her face and she stepped forward, pushing the plate closer to him. Her smile widened as Jimmy reached for his meal, but Jimmy reached past the plate. He reached for her. Jimmy’s cold fingers brushed her forearm, reaching for her face.
Her son growled a deep, undead, demonic growl. She didn’t believe her son could make a sound that deep. She dropped the plate and the cold ravioli splashed onto the carpet. Amelia jumped from the room and slammed the door behind her.
Jimmy hit and pounded on the door. He continued to growl and let out small bursts of screams. The door shook under the relentless beating of his small hands. The barrage of noise shocked her. She didn’t know how to take it, but she knew something wasn’t right. That noise could not have come from her son. The thing on the other side of the door was not her boy. She began to think that Keith might have been right.
She walked backwards down the hallway never taking her gaze off the door. Once she got into the master bedroom she closed the door behind her. The master bedroom had a large sliding door closet which separated her son’s room and her room. Under the large closet was a small shoe closet that was two feet high—just tall enough to fit her largest cowgirl boots—and just as wide as the closet. The small shoe closet had a partition in it that could be removed to access her son’s room. She slid the shoe closet door open, moved two pair of very expensive Lucchese cowgirl boots, and touched the partition to verify that it was closed.
She closed the door and sat on her bed, listening to the sound of her son pounding on his door echo down the hallway. Sweat rolled down her forehead. She cautiously moved toward her window as if she were attempting to cross a busy street. Once she was confident the street was clear, she put her head out.
A breeze forced its way through the window, stirring the hot and stale ambient air from her room. The gust of wind forced her curtains to dance wildly around her. She grabbed at the dancing ends and forced them to the edge of the windowsill. She rolled a small metal chair from under her makeup desk and sat in front of the window. As she sat back she felt the air rolling past her face.
She stayed like this for many hours. Amelia absorbed the cool air until something snapped her from her slumber. The sound of running feet caught her attention and she sat up at the window.
The breeze carried a female voice. Amelia wasn’t able to understand what the voice was saying, but while the breeze was speaking, she heard what could only be the sound of a hand slapping the hood of a car.
Amelia hung her head out the window, straining her neck to get a better look at what was making the noise, but the voice died down and the banging of hoods began to fade off in the distance.
*****
Amelia was on alert listening to the sounds of the neighborhood. Mangled bodies shambled through the streets, moaning and groaning. Some walked faster than others, with more dexterity and with purpose, but still in horrible condition. The voices she heard had to be someone—maybe the government—coming to help. It took everything she had not to yell out the window, but she was too scared.
She watched the horrible creatures walk by from behind the curtains. She was listening at the window again when she heard the back door shake and open. She quickly grabbed her shotgun and ran downstairs, not thinking about the noise she made running past her son’s room. Keith rounded the corner from the kitchen. Amelia tossed the gun onto the loveseat and wrapped her arms around him.
“I am so happy you came back.” She kissed his cheek and then his lips. “They’re here!” She was being very loud.
Keith was very surprised by her positive display of emotion and savored the embrace. “I’m really happy you’re happy, but you need to be quiet.” He acted like he was about to cover her mouth. “Who’s here? You heard someone where, when?”
“Oh my God, I’m so happy you came back.” She was still being too loud, but Keith let it slide. “There were people outside a few hours ago. They walked right down our street, but I was sleeping. I’m sure they’ll be back.”
“That’s great.” Keith was surprised to hear it, but assumed it was another group from the farm, looking for items to bring back. He embraced her again, squeezing her tight. “I stayed at that place last night. It’s true. We could stay there. Believe me, there are people there who have lost children, just like us. They would welcome us. They want us to join them.”
She pulled away. “You found a place? That wasn’t the plan.” She didn’t understand why he still wanted to leave when there were people looking for them to take them to safety. Then they could get Jimmy to a place that would help him. He wasn’t as bad as the people outside. Jimmy was still pure and clean. He could still be helped. “I just told you there were people here looking for us. We have enough food to last us for weeks. We don’t have to go anywhere.”
“Em, more than likely the people you heard was the group I met at Fork.”
“You ran into a group? How did they get this place? Do you even know them?” She fired off three questions quickly, never giving him the chance to respond.
He hated when she did that. Why couldn’t she just follow his instructions, or listen to what he had to say before rattling off a hundred questions. “Yes I ran into a group of guys just like me at Fork. They were gathering food and supplies for their place. They have a farm up the way.” He pointed over his shoulder as if she knew where he was referring to. “It’s the one off of East Gate with the big barn star. You probably heard them rummaging through cars or houses.”
“Were they trying to get people’s attention by banging on doors and yelling?” She looked at him as if he didn’t hear her initially. “These people were trying to get my attention. They were looking for people.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t the same people.”
“Em…Let’s just go. If we don’t like it we can always come back.”
“I can’t. I can’t go when the help we have been waiting for is literally going to knock on our door.”
“No one is coming. We talked about assistance from the military or local police forces and no one has heard anything. They seem to think that was the original plan, but this thing took over way too fast. They haven’t seen anyone trying to help in any of the neighborhoods. As far as they know, they are the only ones trying to help. Don’t you think, if some agency was actually trying to save anyone, they would go to Atlanta? That’s where they could help the most people. No one is thinking of us out here. No one is coming all the way out here.” Keith spoke with the authority to break her will to stay.
Amelia walked away from Keith. “I’m not going anywhere when I know I heard people out there. My son is not like one of those creatures. He’s not that bad yet. Once someone comes and picks him up I’ll go, but I’m not leaving him sick and locked in his room. You should feel the same way.”
Keith knew there was no way to change her mind, at least not right now. Amelia would have to be physically removed from her house, or she needed no reason to stay. He didn’t want to harm his son, but felt he had no other choice. It would happen tonight. He would put his son out of his misery. He would end his son’s unnatural life.
“We can wait it out and see if they come back. If not, we leave.” Keith said nodding his head in approval.
Amelia nodded her head with him. “If they don’t come back in a few days we will leave.” She said.
“Promise?” he asked, smiling.
Amelia smiled back. “Promise.”
*****
Amelia lay on the couch across from the TV while Keith lay perpendicular to her on the loveseat. For the first time in a very long time, possibly years, she fell asleep in an uncanny peace. No groans came from outside, Jimmy was quiet, and for once Keith didn’t snore.
All was well until she jolted up from the couch
as a squeak woke her. She immediately looked for Keith, but he was not on the loveseat. She recognized the sound from one of the many steps leading upstairs.
To Keith it sounded like the stair squeaked louder than ever. He knew where all the loose boards were; no matter how he altered his foot pattern he would inevitably step on one loose board. He knew his wife would come up soon. Moving quietly, he skipped two steps at a time, pulling himself up the stairs by the handrail.
“Keith?” Amelia rounded the bottom of the stairs. Even though her eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness of night she could barely make out his figure at the top of the steps. The figure stopped and then walked toward Jimmy’s room. Keith’s tall body appeared under the skylight and she could see his muscles tense in the moonlight as he made a fist. She knew her son was not safe.
“Keith, no!” she screamed and ran up the steps. “We promised!”
Keith turned to her. “Shut up!” He spoke in a loud authoritative voice. “You will get us both killed.”
“What are you doing?” She began to sob. “We promised. You promised.”
“Em, I can’t. It’s not safe here. It’s just the two of us. We have no protection. No one to watch out for us at night. Anyone or anyone of those things could get in. What if he gets out?” He pointed to the door.
“He’ll be fine as soon as they come and get him. He’s not as bad as the rest of them.” She threw her arms around him, hugging him and stepping between him and Jimmy’s door. “No baby, I’ll go with you I promise. I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes; whatever you want.”
Keith pulled her off of him and held her at arms length. He knew nothing she said was going to change her intentions. He had to end his son’s life if he wanted a life with Amelia. He did know that once he did this the possibility of Amelia wanting to be with him was slim to none, but at least she would not be in imminent danger.
“We can go to the farm,” she said as she tried to fight his strong arms.
