by Alex South
“I’ve seen it before. Before you came. I’m allergic, so I left it behind,” said Rob.
“Seen it where?”
“There are some houses. That way.” He pointed through the wall. “I went there once. The kitchen was empty. But there was some food in the bedroom. No one had seen it. I didn’t know if it would still be there. But it was.”
John sat down. “So, can I eat?” he said.
“We need to split it up,” said Duke.
“Are there some…” he moved over to the cupboards and started looking in them.
“What are you doing?” said Jess.
“I’m looking for some scales,” said Duke.
“Let’s just eat.”
“No. I…” He removed his head from a cupboard, now holding some scales in his hands. “I want to do this right.”
Waiting was agonising, as Duke measured out each portion. John’s mouth had filled with saliva and suddenly the pain in his stomach had intensified.
“Can you stay now?” said Rob.
“Um… I’m sorry, Rob… but this isn’t enough… we still have to leave,” said Duke, “Thank you so much though.”
“I thought you were going because you were hungry,” said Rob, sounding a little sad.
“Yeah… but… this is only like… a snack, you know?” said Duke.
Rob said nothing, stared at the table for a few seconds, then stood up very fast and left the room. The remaining group exchanged a few glances, but nothing was said.
Eventually, all the portions were measured out, including one for Laura. John put a nut in his mouth. It tasted better than he had ever known to be possible.
…
Stacy realised that she was alive. Consciousness had come like a slow awakening – gradually blooming, until becoming large enough for Stacy to know herself, large enough for Stacy to know that she existed once more.
Total euphoria washed over her – happiness of such intensity it almost hurt. The darkness had gone, and the hate, and the voices. In its place was the part of her she liked, but more of it, more of it than she had ever thought possible. She felt like everything good in the world was hers forever. She could not take anything, because she had everything. She could only give.
Like this, she felt more powerful. She could do even more than before. There was something close to her. An interference – it was the others. Their fear. Their sadness. It wasn’t like before, when she had enjoyed it. Now she didn’t need it. She wanted to help. They should feel as good as her.
She closed her eyes – trying to concentrate on their feelings. She saw them as grey, swirling lines being traced through a dark void. As often happened, she felt the sensation of imagination – as if these grey lines were her creation, but, at the same time, also felt the conflicting sensation that this was nothing to do with her, that she was watching something that she could have no effect on.
She focused, hard and for a long time. But nothing she tried worked. The lines wouldn’t go away. She opened her eyes.
She noticed that it didn’t feel like failure. Failure usually felt sad. But her wonderful energy remained. She didn’t mind that it didn’t work. She didn’t mind.
There was something else. A physical pain. It was close.
She closed her eyes again. Becoming aware of the woman upstairs, lying in the bed, asleep. She became aware of the hole in her tummy, and the metal inside. And she concentrated, trying to use her new energy, trying to focus all the good feelings inside of her.
And she felt it. She felt it begin to change.
She realised, with excitement, that helping the woman had made her feel even better, like warmth and chocolate mixed together. Now she could feel the woman’s hole getting smaller. She could feel bits of it touching for the first time. She could feel bits of it getting less red, and raw, and angry. The metal was being pushed out. Then there was another feeling. As soon as Stacy noticed it she tried not to. She tried not to feed it by thinking about it. But it was there. And she couldn’t forget. And now she could feel that it had always been coming. Still she fought against it. It was strong, but so was her new happiness, so she tried to cling to that, to that feeling that she could do anything. Because if she could do anything – she could stop this new, bad, feeling from growing.
But it continued on. And the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. And that made her happiness fade. And that made the bad feelings stronger. Then she heard the voices.
She opened her eyes, no longer interested in healing the woman upstairs any further. The voices didn’t want that. Stacy didn’t want that. Now she noticed, with a sudden wave of regret, that the energy of the woman upstairs had changed. Stacy had only tried to heal her. But something else had happened. The woman felt stronger than before, and also different in a way that Stacy couldn’t quite understand.
…
Laura woke to the sound of a door being slammed. Jess was in her room. Laura watched as she locked the door, and then backed away slowly.
“What’s going on?” as the words left Laura’s mouth, she realised that the air was heavy with the sound of groans.
Jess turned and looked at her. “Elena’s a zombie.”
For a moment Laura couldn’t move. She knew what Jess’s words meant and yet somehow they seemed to get stuck, as if there were no space for them inside her. Now from somewhere came a voice – a voice telling her to move. She searched under her pillow and grabbed the knife.
Thud! Thud! Thud! – the noise of someone pounding the door. Laura jumped out of bed. A sudden pain sprang from her wound – and yet, Laura noticed it wasn’t that severe. Jess started coughing.
“Jess?”
She didn’t stop.
“Jess?”
Jess looked at Laura, her face became red. In that moment, Laura saw something in her eyes, and a part of her somehow knew.
“Jess, what did you do?”
Jess dropped to the floor.
“What?” she said, the coughing abruptly stopping.
“What happened? What did you do?”
Thud, Thud, Thud. The door vibrated in its frame. Jess snapped her head to it like a frightened animal. “What’s that?” she said.
“Did you eat it?!” Laura screamed. “Did you eat the zombie?!”
“No!” Shouted Jess. “I didn’t do anything.”
Laura watched her and she watched Laura. Laura could see the pain in her, her realisation of what might be happening.
“I ate nuts” she said, weakly.
They continued to stare at each other.
“RAGGGGH!” The noise seemed to come from somewhere beyond Jess. She shook her head wildly “RAGGHH… HAARGH… HAGGGGHGGG…” Suddenly she stopped, finding Laura’s eyes again. “What’s happening to me?”
Laura shook her head and put her hands over his mouth. “No.” The word fell out her lips.
“RAAGGH… RAGHHH… no… I’m going to be RAGGHHH…. GHHH… I’m going to be okay, it’s going to be okay… GHHHHG HGGGHG… it’s just a cough… RGGHGH RGHGHGH. I’m fucking… coughing… RUGGH… I just need some GGHHH… I just. RAAAGHHHH!”
“HELP!” Laura screamed, backing away.
Jess held her head, now — thrashing around on the carpet. Laura’s back touched the chest of draws.
“HELP!” Laura shouted.
Jess suddenly fell still, then her body curled up; her arms twisted around her body unnaturally. She fell still again. Now her spine jerked straight, one arm trapped underneath her torso, the other reaching up towards the ceiling, grasping at air.
Laura knew she had to act. That was all, as she pulled out her knife. That was all, as she ran forwards. That was all, as she pushed Jess onto her back. Jess thrashed, her body no longer hers. Laura moved over her, her knees on Jess’s chest, keeping herself steady against the movements.
Jess froze. Her eyes locked with Laura’s. “No,” said Jess.
For a second Laura couldn’t do it. Then something was forced to b
reak inside her. She pushed the blade into Jess’s throat. Wide eyes stared back at her. Gargling spluttering noises bubbled up with the blood, which now drew red lines down the side of her neck.
Laura yanked the knife around - the spongy resistance of flesh crawling in her nerves. Jess stopped moving.
Laura forced the knife free and crawled backwards, shaking her head. Everything seemed to be coming through some sort of filter. All words and ideas had left her. She could hear screaming, and sobs and knew they must be hers. Now she slammed back into her body; slammed back into the room with the thudding door, and the dead body and the blood.
Feverishly, she wiped her hands on her clothes, as if what had happened could be removed.
The moments passed; the thuds continued. Laura shook as her soul cried out against it all, against every part of this world, as it continued to swirl around her, beating her down with its instance. This is it. This is it. This is it. Images of the others flashed in her mind.
She stood up and slowly moved to Poppy’s galaxy box. She took out a large amount of cocaine, poured it on the bedside table, and snorted as much as she could. The high hit her like a train. The pain in her stomach lessoned. Her body flooded with chemical strength.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Laura’s eyes closed. Everything seemed to be pushing down on her, as if the house itself was putting its weight on her, to crush her back into the corner of the room, to crumble her into inaction.
She opened her eyes and moved across the room, knife in hand. She unlocked the door, turned the handle slightly, and quickly backed away. The door swung open. Elena stood, her fists still balled. Now she took her first steps into the room, drawing closer, and closer. Laura shifted her weight from foot to foot. Elena let out a long groan. Laura could see the sadness in her eyes.
Elena took a few more steps. In Laura, lay a force - force that shuddered upwards through her. She rushed forwards, making uneven steps as she kept her body tilted back. Elena groaned and made quick movements to attack. Laura’s hand pushed against Elena’s chest. With the other, she swung the knife upwards.
The blade missed and landed behind Elena’s neck, whose hands now found Laura, grasping, pulling. Strength surged into Laura’s left hand, pushing to keep the bites away. Her knife hand pulled back, now striking forth once more. The blade filled Elena’s breast — emptying its bitterness into her. Laura pulled it back. Again she stabbed, again, again, again, as they both struggled in each other’s arms. Elena fought to bring Laura close, her strength unaffected. Again, again, again — the metal found home. Elena’s hand lunged to Laura’s face, only to be knocked away. Laura threw a punch. Her knuckles - still wrapped around the hilt of the blade - smashed into Elena’s body.
Laura turned to punching and pushing and stabbing. Elena lunged and grabbed. A struggle of arms rose between them. A flurry squabbling with the air. Blows hitting blows. Skin hitting skin. Wrists and arms.
Elena was growing into this — her speed and power increasing. But Laura exploded into their fight, with a power, an energy — engulfing and overcoming everything, as she pushed Elena away again and again, as she stabbed and stabbed, until she was right up close to her, forcing the knife up and under her chin. Holding Elena’s t-shirt in her shaking balled up fist, gritting her teeth and staring into her empty gaze.
Now she closed her eyes, and turned her head away, fearing the disease would spew forth in blood or saliva. Yet Laura’s hand stayed true, driving death into Elena, into her friend, into her enemy, into the swirling mess of evil and chaos. And now there was no counter-resistance, and so Laura’s power forced Elena back, so that she fell, ripping the knife out of Laura’s hand.
Laura turned her head and opened her eyes. Dreadlocks was running straight at her. She had no time to react. He smashed into her. They both hit the floor. He scrambled on top of her. Laura found Dreadlocks’s collar and pushed, hard, as Dreadlocks’s face loomed above. She brought her leg up, and then wrapped it around Dreadlocks’s body, forcing him right. As Dreadlocks moved, Laura rolled with the momentum. Now they were side by side. Laura scrambled to get on top of him. Dreadlocks’s hand gripped the top of her shirt and pulled. Caught off balance, Laura fell onto Dreadlock’s other side.
Dreadlocks yanked her closer. Laura sandwiched her arms between them, her forearms struggling to keep the darkness back. Teeth snapped at the air. Laura grunted. Dreadlocks’s head now tilted closer. Laura forced her fingers up to and underneath Dreadlocks’s chin.
Dreadlocks was too strong. An inevitability spread, locking Laura into this struggle. Keeping her close to the bite, close to her end. This was it; this was the last empty whisper of life that would stain her mind.
In one, quick, movement, Laura grabbed Dreadlocks’s t-shirt and lifted it over his face. Dreadlocks’s face became an outline against the fabric. Laura head butted him and scrambled to her feet. Dreadlocks grasped at his face, pulling away the t-shirt. Laura was ready, brushing aside his arms and forcing the knife deep into his throat.
A few seconds of grunting, then Dreadlocks received peace. Laura stood up.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The sounds were coming from the corridor. She ran to the door and locked it. Now leaning against it and sinking to the floor. At first she was silent, simply staring through the floor. Then, she covered her eyes and started to mutter. “You have to do it. You have to do it. You have to do it…”
She rose and unlocked the door. Entering the hallway, she saw the bathroom door vibrating in its frame. It must be locked from the inside, she thought.
She dragged a chest of draws so that it blocked the door, now continuing on moving to the main bedroom. Slowly, she pushed the door open.
Nothing.
She came back and glanced down the stairs. Pushing on against all instinct, she crept downstairs. Her mind raced. John, Duke and Rob remained. But someone was in the bathroom. So that left only two people. Her ears strained for any noises. Now reaching the ground floor, she quickly glanced into the main living room — nothing.
Her mind turned to the front door. If she needed to run, it had to be unlocked. She slowly moved over to it, turning the key in the lock, and unclicking the yale. Suddenly she heard a loud thud coming from the front living room, followed by a long moaning sound. Something snapped inside her. She opened the front door, ready to run. Rows and rows of blank faces stared back at her, pasty and discoloured in the sun. One of them reached out its arms towards her. She slammed the door shut, turning back to the hallway. The front living room door flew open. Duke stumbled out and looked at her.
“Laura?”
“Duke!”
“I don’t feel good.”
“G… go back into the sitting room.”
Duke fell to the ground and crawled out of sight back into the sitting room.
“Laura… help,” he said.
Laura slowly walked along the hall so she could see him through the doorway.
“It’s all gone wrong,” Duke said.
“What happened?” she said.
He rolled onto his side. “I don’t know. There was some food. I think Rob poisoned it.”
“What food?”
“Rob got it. Urghhh. I feel so weird… Please… please don’t kill me.”
“Who else ate the food?”
“I don’t know… it was everyone… it was everyone… don’t kill me… just…” Duke shakily began getting to his feet, all the colour had left his face. He was sweating profusely.
“Wait…” said Laura. Duke slipped back to the floor. “Wait there.”
Laura ran out the room. She checked the main living room and the kitchen. To her relief, it was empty. She scrambled around in the cupboards, never looking away from the door for more than a few seconds. She grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and ran back to Duke.
“Drink this. You have to kill it. Or throw up.”
“Laura, I really don’t feel well.”
She moved closer to him and pu
shed it into his hand. “Drink it!”
“Kills 99%.” He mumbled to himself. Laura watched as he took the lid off and took a swig. Instantly, he stuck out his tongue and began coughing. His eyes jerked to her. “Rob’s blood!”
“What?”
“Rob’s blood. Give me Rob’s blood.”
“I… I…”
“Tie me up… Laura… tie me up… give me Rob’s blood. Cure me… you can cure me…”
An inner voice told her the rope was in the basement. She found herself running. Somehow, her body had decided before she had. Urgency pulsed in her veins. Her mind screamed for her feet to move faster, as she flung a door open, as her legs stabbed down at the stairs, rolling them underneath her. She reached the bottom. A large pair of eyes locked with hers. A scream rose in her, but her throat wouldn’t let it out.
“You can’t save him!” the little girl shouted.
She can’t be alive – Laura thought. Her gaze moved to Stacy’s body, which was still tied to the chair. Laura forced herself to move again, going across the room, grabbing some rope and heading towards the exit.
“He’s already a zombie,” said the girl.
Laura stopped in her tracks.
“Who?” she said.
“The short man. And the other man.”
Laura glanced towards the top of the basement stairs.
Duke moved into the frame of the door. She stared at him. His eyes were yellow. He looked at her in a different way, in a way that she’d never seen. Laura dropped the rope and pulled her knife. Duke took a step down. She had to trap him somehow. If she could just get him tied up…
He took another slow step.
“He’s coming! He’s coming!” shouted the little girl.
He wasn’t like the others; he was more co-ordinated - more deliberate with his actions. The little girl was controlling him; she had to be.
“Stop it!” Laura shouted.
Duke stopped moving.
“You can help me,” said Laura. “You can help me save him.”
Duke fell limp. His body crumpled against the hard steps. Gravity did the rest. He rolled down towards them, gathering momentum. Laura screamed and backed away. Duke thudded against the floor.
