by Jason Deyo
His door swung open easily. She had anticipated a little resistance after the constant abuse it recently received. As the door opened, Amelia was overcome by the revolting stench of rotten meat. The first thing she saw was her son standing facing the closet. The second thing she saw was a mangled body on the floor that used to be Keith.
The body on the floor was only recognizable as Keith by the clothing on the corpse. His body lay supine on the floor with torn clothing and multiple bite marks. His shoulders were missing deep pockets of flesh, exposing tendon and muscle. Keith’s arms were littered with teeth indentations, but no deep tears.
Amelia could see bare bone through his neck, from where Jimmy had eaten a large hole through it. All that remained of Keith’s face was deep red muscle covered in drying crimson blood and bright white teeth. Two large holes filled the spots where his green eyes used to be.
She held her breath and gasped as flies stuck to the muscle from the drying coagulated blood. After one day flies had found the body and laid white eggs in the open wounds. Flies filled the room and swarmed her as she opened the door.
Jimmy could not stay in this room. Amelia had to move him. Her son turned in response to her audible gasp. “Oh Jimmy, we need to get you out of here.” She began to move close to him with open arms, but then stumbled back. Her son made eye contact with her, with his pale lifeless blue eyes. Blood from the body at her feet covered his face. Smears of blood covered his upper cheeks and forehead, but the drying crimson blood was thick and bright on his chin and down the front of his neck and pajamas. Barely visible black veins climbed their way up from under Jimmy’s pajamas, across his neck and thinning out at his cheeks.
She fell onto the radiator on the opposite side of the room. “Oh Jimmy!” she screamed.
Her son let out a growl and she covered her face as his gaping maw released a black cloud of flies.
*****
Amelia sat on her chair looking out the front window in the direction where she anticipated she would see the strange woman emerge. She stared, listening to her son slowly assault his door. He no longer had the speed and ferocity he once had, but he was consistent.
Ghouls were making their way toward her house from across the street. She sat back from the window and watched as a few more began to walk between the buildings toward hers.
“Jimmy, you need to stop.” She talked and then turned toward the bed, but he wasn’t there. “Jimmy, you need to stop beating on the door.” The rising afternoon sun was shining down on the house and the upstairs bedroom was beginning to become unbearably hot. The only two options she could think of to stop the undead from walking her way was to close the windows or stop Jimmy from having his fit.
She didn’t know how to stop her son, so she got up to close the windows.
“Mom you need to get the flies off me. They’re biting me and hurting me.”
Amelia turned to see a sad expression on his face. She was about to say something when he continued, “If you can cover my face you could get them off me. I just need them to stop biting me.”
“I can’t get you away from the door.” Amelia thought about climbing through the bottom of the closet, the same way she dragged Keith in, but then thought about being trapped. “What am I supposed to do?” She felt defeated. She was at her wits end.
“I’ll show you,” he said as he got up and walked toward the closet the two rooms shared. Amelia was surprised with how simple it was for him. She knew this wasn’t her son, but somehow Jimmy was communicating through this apparition. She didn’t know what to expect, but Amelia didn’t anticipate walking around the bed. Jimmy slid open the closet, reached in, moved the clothing to the side, and knocked on the closet wall. On the opposite side was his closet for his room.
To Amelia’s surprise the assault on his bedroom door stopped. Jimmy turned to his mother. “Now you can do what you have to do, without me knowing you’re there.”
Amelia felt happy and filled with purpose. She knew exactly what she had to do. Running into the pantry she retrieved one of his pillowcases. It was dark blue with the Star Wars Millennium Falcon flying through patches of dark space.
She carefully cracked the door and saw he was standing in front of his closet, clawing at it. She stretched the pillowcase open and walked into the room. Tiptoeing over the bloody corpse, she covered her son’s head with the pillowcase. He immediately stopped clawing and growling.
Amelia was surprised how well it worked. He didn’t move or react to the pillowcase covering his head. He stood completely still and then very slowly lowered his hands to his side. Amelia stared at him for a few seconds and was impressed by his stillness. Flies flew out from under the pillowcase and around her.
She stood watching him in the corner of his room. A sense of accomplishment washed over her, but then as she watched her son, he looked like he was being punished. Amelia softly called his name and she could see his head turn from under the pillowcase. “Come here Jimmy.” She said again, but he did not move. “Come here and sit down.” He continued to stand stiffly, not responding.
She grabbed his elbow. It was cold and felt like clay. His skin no longer had the elasticity of life in it. He reacted to her touch and slowly reached for her. Jimmy seemed to be at peace when his head was covered. He didn’t make any noise and was very slow to respond to any sensation. She avoided his grasp and guided him toward the bed. He moved without hesitation.
Amelia spun his body around so his back was toward the bed and lightly pushed his shoulders down, forcing him to sit. As she took a few steps backward, the pillowcase moved with Jimmy’s head, following the sounds of her movement. His whole demeanor changed when his sense of sight was taken away. He was no longer angry, but content.
She was going to leave, but as she stood at the door, tears began to well in her eyes. She tried not to make a sound as she gasped and the tears flowed down her cheeks. Creeping in front of her son, Amelia knelt in front of the boy and rubbed his shoulders. Jimmy moved his hands up to grab at what was touching him, but Amelia knew to avoid them. She cupped his cheek and felt his jaw slowly open in response to her touching his face, and again she moved her hands before he grabbed them.
Once Amelia felt satisfied he would remain seated, she left the room.
*****
Even though the sun was beginning its descent, the initial three undead from the morning remained in front of the house. A couple more joined the trio and swayed ever so slightly. They were completely quiet, never looking up at Amelia as she looked down on them from the window of the master bedroom. They appeared to be content hanging out in the front lawn.
As she watched them with growing curiosity, she saw something dart across the street from the corner of her eye. Waiting for the mysterious woman had finally paid off. She moved smoothly and silently, weaving around and over cars. An empty, loose backpack flopped up and down as she hopped up the front porch stairs and then into the house. The mysterious woman wore black leggings and a black shirt, providing camouflage at night. If Amelia hadn’t been waiting for her she would have never known she had come back.
“There she is, Mom!” Jimmy sat on the corner of the bed and bounced with little jumps of excitement. “Go get her!”
“Get her? You want me to go get her?”
“I don’t know. Bring her here. Mom, I really need her.” He was so excited that his feet were now coming off the floor. “I’m almost better. This could be it, and then I’ll be better!”
Amelia looked back to the window and stood up in front of it. “She will probably try to lure them away again and I’m sure she will see all these ones.” She tilted her head toward the small group gathering in front of her house. “I’ll wave to her as she tries to get them to follow.” The undead out front began to growl, as she had forgotten to monitor the volume of her voice.
Moments later the woman came out with a gun in her hand and a tightly rounded backpack. She immediately began to bang on a car’s hood, as was her rou
tine. She looked in Amelia’s general direction, but did not see Amelia waving at her. She had just started to run away when Amelia screamed, “Help!”
The woman jumped, spinning in midair as if she was just startled by a friend. She studied the houses to identify where the voice came from and saw Amelia waving from the second story window, with a small group of undead below. She ran toward Amelia to get the attention of the ghouls and guide them away. Once they saw the woman they all turned toward her, losing all interest in Amelia. “I’ll go around back!” she screamed, just as much to guide the creatures away as to make sure Amelia would hear her.
Amelia nodded in response.
“Oh my God, it’s really happening!” Jimmy said, excited.
“Go to your room.” She moved with a sense of urgency, making sure to grab her shotgun as she ran to meet her guest. This needed to happen to save her son, but she couldn’t fathom the idea of killing a person. Keith was trying to harm her son, so she was able to justify that, but she doubted she could do it. Not to this innocent woman.
*****
The woman was at the back door when Amelia entered the kitchen. She stared through the wood planks Keith had put up over the window. Amelia’s heart pounded and she shook uncontrollably, thinking about what she had to do. She began to feel nauseous and wondered if she was about to have a nervous breakdown.
The mysterious woman’s eyes peering between the planks looked so young. They were wide and bright blue. Amelia could see the beauty in her face without actually seeing it. Her long eye lashes and eyes reminded her of the young girls who would apply for positions at the dental office. Their eyes were so full of hope and naïve innocence. She knew she couldn’t go through with it, so why was she shaking? Nothing had happened and nothing would happen.
Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the dead bolt. She was right; the mystery woman was young. She was very young, early twenties if not late teens. Her hair was pulled tight in a braided brown ponytail and her round cheeks complemented her round face. She was very fit and through her tight clothing Amelia could tell she was strong.
“I thought I was the only one left. It is so good to see another person and a woman too.” She was full of energy and excitement and pushed her way into the house.
All Amelia could do was smile. She was shocked by the woman’s zeal and backed out of her way. Amelia thought her assertiveness was brash, but when everything outside is trying to kill you, you don’t wait for a formal “Welcome to my home, please come in.”
“I am so excited to have someone to talk to.” She spoke fast with a high-pitched voice, and sounded like she was from the north. “My name’s Lauren.” She stopped abruptly and waited for a reply.
Amelia was still awestruck. The woman came in so quickly, she didn’t have an opportunity to really gather her thoughts. Her mind raced with thoughts of what was to come. I could do it now and be done with it, she thought to herself. She is holding a gun and she would definitely put up a fight.
Amelia stood engrossed in her thoughts and her visitor was becoming visibly uncomfortable. Amelia cleared her throat and wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. Hi, she thought to herself, but couldn’t say it out loud. I’m Amelia. She tried, but the words did not leave her mouth. She couldn’t do it. Amelia could not kill this woman. I can’t do this. The overbearing thought of sneaking up on this young woman—this girl—in the middle of the night and sticking a knife in her back made her stomach turn. The foul taste of stomach bile lingered in the back of her throat.
She looked into the living room where all of Keith’s supplies were resting on the table. She imagined sneaking up behind the woman as she put a piece of food into her mouth and forcefully slicing a sharp knife across her throat. I can’t, Amelia thought again, but then a voice, faint at first, interrupted her thought. The voice was far away, but getting closer. It resembled hers, but with a stronger southern accent.
Amelia held the knife to Lauren’s imaginary throat as she ate at her dining room table. Lauren forked another bite of food and put it into her mouth, working around Amelia’s knife wielding arm in front of her. Amelia turned toward the voice and saw herself rounding the corner of the steps. “Amelia,” the character said in that distant strong southern accent. She wore the same blue boy shorts and loose plain light blue T-shirt she did. “Let me take that from you, sugar.” Her fingers were the same as hers, soft and gentle. They lightly guided her arm away from the young woman’s neck. “Honey, you can’t do this.” She held her hand out and Amelia gave her the knife willingly.
The character moved closer to the woman and Amelia backed away, allowing her to take her place behind Lauren. “Why don’t you go spend time with your son,” she said smoothly. “You just let Mrs. Kim take care of everything. You two have a lot of stuff to talk about, so I’ll take over from here on out.”
Amelia walked around her squeezing between Mrs. Kim and the living room wall. She looked up the stairs and saw Jimmy standing at the top and smiling. She looked back at Mrs. Kim as she easily sliced deeply into Lauren’s throat. Lauren looked at Amelia and smiled widely.
Mrs. Kim smiled with her. “Let Mrs. Kim take care of you and Jimmy from here on out. You’ve done so much already.” Amelia watched as this woman pulled the bloody knife free from Lauren’s neck. “Oops.” She held the tip of the knife up as blood dripped from it. “Don’t want to get any blood on the carpet.” Her shoulders bounced with a hiccup of laughter.
Amelia turned back to her son and took the first step up the stairs, allowing Mrs. Kim to control her physical body.
Mrs. Kim cleared her throat and closed the back door. A wave of calm washed over her. Her heart began to slow and her hands began to steady themselves as she locked the door. “My name’s Mrs. Kimberly.” It was so natural and felt good to say. It flowed smoothly from her southern tongue. “My friends call me Kim. I apologize for my initial rudeness, but I was taken aback by your age. You are such a young child and yet you are doing amazing things.”
Lauren smiled. “Well, Mrs. Kim, I’m not so young. I’m old enough to drink.”
“Well,” Kim said, mockingly repeating her. “No one is going to stop you from drinking ‘round here anyway, so age doesn’t really matter.” She smiled.
“I’m twenty one.”
“Oh sweet thing, you’re just a baby. A baby holding a gun.”
Lauren forgot she was holding it. “Oh. I’m sorry. I just found it.” She unzipped her backpack to put the pistol away.
“You don’t have to put it away. I’m very comfortable with them myself. Grew up with five older brothers and each of them had a few. I’ve been shooting my whole life,” Kim said.
“I’m so excited there is another person in the neighborhood. I’ve been all over and there’s just no one here. Is it just you?”
Kim was slightly offended by the intrusiveness of her question, and it must have shown, because Lauren spoke again, not giving her the opportunity to respond. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that question. I’m a stranger and you don’t know me from Adam. I’m just excited to have someone to talk with. I mean, I haven’t talked with anyone in…” She stopped and thought. “A week at least.”
“It’s ok. I’m excited too. I’ve been trapped inside these walls since the beginning.” She placed her shotgun on the kitchen table, as Lauren put the handgun in the backpack.
“I have so much food.” She spoke in a deep voice, elongating the last three words. “Do you want any? Honestly. I have a lot.”
“Excuse me for being rude—I should have offered you something, but since you brought it up, I would love something to eat. I’ve been up all day and haven’t really eaten a bite. I don’t know why, but I haven’t really been hungry since this thing all went down. I guess I’ve only been eating out of necessity.” She rubbed her stomach. “If only my husband could see me now. All it took was the end of the world; after I reach my wedding weight, there won’t be anyone around to show it off
to.”
They both laughed and Lauren began emptying the contents of her bag. She pulled out a couple boxes of spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce. She held up the sauce. “What do you think the chances are of finding my favorite spaghetti sauce? As soon as I saw it, I just had to have it. I would love to have some spaghetti. Warm spaghetti that is.” She noticed the Coleman stove on the dining room table.
“So you have all this food, but nothing to cook on.” She smiled. “You are more than welcome to use mine.”
Lauren noticed the two plates of egg on the table across from one another. One was eaten from and the other hadn’t been touched. “So, is there someone else here with you? I know I already asked and by your expression I knew better than to press, but…” She pointed to the second plate.
Mrs. Kim looked solemnly at the ground. “It just doesn’t feel right eating alone. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been. Eating that is.” She paused. “Or putting away dirty dishes. Why don’t we make that spaghetti of yours and we can talk about life before all of this happened.”
Lauren agreed.
*****
“I’m picking up the first one of these I see,” Lauren said, referring to the Coleman stove. “This thing’s amazing. Light, easy to carry, and doesn’t draw attention. This is what I need,” Lauren said as she put a little pat of butter on a piece of bread.
“I think I’m going to miss this more than anything,” Kim said as she pulled out the last piece of Wonder Bread before the heel. “This has always been my downfall.” She spread her own dab of butter on the not-quite-stale bread. “I love my carbs. I guess we will soon find out the meaning of ‘the best thing since sliced bread.’”
“Same here. My favorite foods are carbs. Always have been.” She chewed her last bite, savoring it.
An eerie stillness lingered in the room and Mrs. Kim broke the silence. “So…tell me about yourself. That is, if you want to.”
