Dead Meat: Day 8
Nick Clausen
Editor: Diana Cox
First Edition 2021
Copyright © 2021 Nick Clausen
Kindle Edition
The author asserts his moral rights to this work.
Please respect the hard work of the author.
No zombies were harmed in the making of this book.
The following takes place on
Saturday, August 2
ONE
—then he freezes.
William just sits there for several seconds. Staring at the object in his hand.
He’s sure he’s hallucinating. That he’s actually holding a lighter, yet seeing it as something else. Probably because the decision to end his life was more than his brain could handle. So it decided to conjure up one last fake glimmer of hope.
It makes him see the lighter as a key.
A key for a car.
This car.
Finally, William is able to blink, terrified that closing his eyes for just a heartbeat will make the key disappear.
It doesn’t. It’s still there, resting on his palm.
Slowly, he closes his fingers around it. Feels it. Squeezes it firmly.
“Holy shit,” he breathes. “It’s real.”
He looks at Ozzy, who’s eyeing him with a certain amount of worry, his head tilted slightly.
William breaks into laughter. “It’s real! I found the key, buddy! I found it! Look! It was in her damn pocket! Of course it was!” He smacks his forehead, still laughing. “Why the fuck didn’t I check her pockets right away? Jesus Christ, I’m a moron!”
The laughter turns into crying, and William makes an effort to stop, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
Ozzy is now whimpering with genuine concern.
“It’s okay, buddy,” William tells him. “I didn’t lose it—not yet. I’m just really relieved. Hell, that doesn’t begin to explain how I feel. But we’re getting out of here. You get it? We can drive our way out of—”
His phone rings.
William picks it up. The display says Mom.
“Shit,” he mutters, then answers the call. “Hi, Mom.”
A couple of seconds of silence. “William?” Her voice is far away, yet he can clearly hear the fear. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom. Perfectly fine.”
Another short delay. “You sure? Why did you send me that text all of a sudden?”
William smiles. “What, I can’t tell you I love you?”
“It’s not funny, William. You have to tell me if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing happened, Mom. Promise.”
“You didn’t get … you didn’t get yourself …?”
“No.”
A deep sigh of relief from his mom. “Good God, you scared the living daylight out of me.”
“Sorry, Mom. But I’m fine, really. Guess I just had … an emotional moment, that’s all.”
He gets why his mom reacts this way; they only rarely talk about their feelings openly, much less tell the other person they love them.
“Well, I guess that’s not unusual,” his mom goes on. “I’m sure we all feel that way right now, under these circumstances.”
“I guess so,” William says, still smiling with relief as he glances out at the dead folks clawing at the car from all angles, thinking for a moment what his mom would say if she could see the situation he’s in. She’d probably drop dead from a heart attack. “You still on the plane?”
“No, we landed two hours ago. We’re on a bus right now that’ll take us to the complex.”
“That’s good,” William says, when his phone beeps in his ear. “Listen, Mom, my phone is dying. Can I call you back when I get to a charger?”
“Sure. You take care of yourself, all right?”
“I will.”
“Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“Good. And William?”
“Uh-huh?”
“I love you too.”
William can’t help but smile despite the awkwardness in his mom’s voice. “I know, Mom. Talk later.” He disconnects and puts his phone away. Then he takes a deep breath and turns to the steering wheel. “Okay, buddy, here we go …”
And it finally dawns on him, that the key might not work. It might not be their salvation. Questions begin shooting through his mind.
What if there’s no gas in the car? What if the engine is busted? What if it’s not even the right key? Then again, why would she have a key for another car in her pocket? Still, even if it’s the right key, he can think of a million reasons why the car won’t start.
His hand trembles so much it takes him three tries to even get the key to slip into the ignition. Once it does, he turns it slowly.
It clicks and the lights in the dashboard come on.
William’s heart leaps.
So far, so good … the key fits. Now let’s see if we can actually turn this thing on.
He closes his eyes, bites down hard, then twists the key all the way.
TWO
To Iver, time seems to stop.
He’s just standing there, the rifle in his hand, staring at the zombies staggering across the floor towards him. Next to him are Chris and Leif.
Chris is the first one to react, and his actions seem to jump-start time once again.
“You guys stay here,” he says, shoving Leif back, then making for the door to the house. “Buy me some time.”
“The door!” Leif shouts, pointing. “He’s going to lock it!”
Iver sees Chris rush by him, and he can tell in an instant that Leif is right; Chris is going to slam the door, turn the key and let the zombies eat them both alive.
Iver reacts before he has time to think, stepping sideways and thrusting the rifle out. It goes between Chris’s legs, tripping him, and he tumbles over with a roar. Iver loses his grip on the weapon and it falls to the floor with a metallic clamber.
“Come on!” Iver shouts, waving at Leif, who’s begun knocking the zombies over using his bare fists. “Let’s go, Leif!”
Leif turns and runs, passing by Chris who’s made it back up to his hands and knees. He sees Leif coming and grabs for his leg, but Leif avoids his hand, instead sacrificing two seconds to stop and deliver a crushing soccer kick to Chris’s ribs, audibly knocking the air from his lungs and sending him onto his back.
Iver runs through the opening, and Leif follows suit. Iver slams the door, but a woman swoops in from the side and manages to stick her arm through at the last possible second.
“Fuck!” Iver shouts, using his shoulder to press against the door. “Help me, Leif!”
Leif leans in with all his weight, causing the door to make a crunching sound, as though the wood is about to break. The woman’s arm is squeezed like pastry, her fingers grabbing eagerly at the air, while several more hands are squeezing through.
“You stay the fuck back!” Chris’s voice roars from the other side. “Get away from me!”
The rifle goes off with a deafening bang as Chris apparently managed to get to it before the zombies got to him. Then he begins screaming.
“No, let go! Get back you! Aaargh!”
In a matter of seconds, Chris’s screams turn silent, drowned out by the groans and moans from the army of deads swarming the garage.
“It’s no use!” Iver croaks, still holding the door. “We won’t get it shut! We’ll have to make a run for it!”
“Where to?” Leif says, looking back through the hallway. “They’re all around the house, we can’t get out!”
“Upstairs!” Iver says.
“But we’ll be—”
“It’s our only chance right now!”
“Righ
t.”
The pressure from the zombies is growing as more and more of them are pushing against the door, and Iver can feel it starting to slip inch by inch.
“You ready?” he shouts, darting a look back to see Charlotte suddenly standing there, glaring at them wide-eyed. “We run on the count of three! Get out of the way, Charlotte!”
Leif nods, sweat dripping from his brow, his cheeks burning red from exhaustion.
“One … two … three!”
Iver and Leif turn and run in perfect unison, the door bursting open and the zombies spilling in, tumbling over each other like customers at a Black Friday sale, buying Iver and Leif a few precious seconds to reach the kitchen.
As Iver passes Charlotte, she still hasn’t moved, so he grabs her and pulls her along. In the kitchen, Leif stops and looks around.
“What are you doing?” Iver calls out. “Come on!”
“Knives!” Leif says. “We’ll need something to defend ourselves with …”
“There’s no time! Charlotte, come on, damnit!”
But Charlotte has pulled herself free and is heading for the hall where the door to the basement is—maybe she figures she’ll be safer down there, maybe she’s just caught up in blind panic. Whatever the case, Charlotte only makes it to the corner of the kitchen counter when the first zombie comes staggering into the room, reaches out and grabs her. Charlotte screams as it digs its teeth into her shoulder.
“Fuck!” Iver shouts, then heads for the stairs, the sounds of the zombies growing louder from behind, drowning out Charlotte’s dying screams.
Leif follows him upstairs, the weight of him making the steps shake.
At the top they meet Agnete, standing in her nightclothes with Adam on her arm. Both of them look shocked and confused.
“Are they in?” Agnete asks.
“Yes,” Iver says simply. “Get back inside the bedroom and lock the door.”
Agnete turns around and goes back inside the room, then, before closing the door, she looks at Iver: “What about you and the others?”
“It’s just me and Leif,” Iver says as Leif comes up the stairs. “We’ll take the kid’s room.”
Agnete nods, closing the door.
Iver points Leif into the kid’s room and follows him, slamming the door and twisting the key.
“Holy hell,” Leif breathes, slumping down onto the armchair in the corner, flattening a teddy bear without noticing. “That went really bad …”
“I know,” Iver says, rubbing his temples and feeling his pulse bang away on the inside of his skull. “Damnit, I should have guessed it sooner …”
Leif shakes his head, his cheeks wobbling. “You had no way of knowing they would do that … Christ, I still can’t believe she just left.”
The zombies have made it up the stairs, and now they reach the door and begin scraping on the outside. Iver looks at it anxiously. The handle bops up and down as someone touches it—probably by coincidence.
“It’ll hold,” Leif says. “At least for now.”
“Yeah, but we’ll have to figure out a way to get out again,” Iver says, striding to the window. He opens it and lets in the cool night air.
Looking down he sees what looks like an audience at a rock concert; several dozen zombies are gathered around the house, stomping around in Agnete’s flower beds.
“God,” he mutters. “It’s like they’re drawn to us …”
Leif moans.
“Well, there’s no way we’re getting out the window,” Iver says, closing it again. “We’ll have to think of something else … any ideas?”
Leif just shakes his head.
Iver goes to the door. The zombies—obviously sensing him getting closer—scratch and moan more eagerly. “Agnete?” he calls. “Can you hear me?”
The bedroom is straight across the hallway, so they should be able to communicate.
A couple of seconds pass by. Then her voice comes through the noise of the zombies: “I can. Are you okay in there?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. How about you?”
“The same. The door seems to hold them.”
“Good. That’s good. But, listen, we’ll have to find some way of getting out of here. Can you check the window and see if they are below your room as well?”
“Hold on a minute.”
Leif moans again.
Iver looks over at him. “What is it, Leif?”
The big guy just sits there, holding his thick wrist. Even from over here, Iver can see the three red lines running across the skin.
“Oh, no,” Iver breathes. “Don’t tell me that’s …” He can’t finish the sentence.
Leif looks up at Iver, his face pale. “I think … I think they got me.”
THREE
“Why did you lie to him?”
Dan looks at Liv as she puts the van in gear and drives on down the empty highway.
“Why did you say you’re coming alone?”
Dan shrugs. “I just think it’s best he doesn’t know you’re here.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised him I wouldn’t bring anybody else.”
“So what, am I just going to wait in the car?”
“Just until I’ve convinced him he can trust me.”
Liv nods, though she doesn’t look too fond of the thought. Dan isn’t either. The moment the lie came out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it. He’s not even completely sure why he chose to do it and not just be honest with Dennis. Probably because he wouldn’t risk him going crazy and blowing off the whole deal if Dan told him he had brought someone else. He hadn’t come all this way to not be let into Holger’s house.
Maybe Dennis wouldn’t have freaked out, though. Maybe he would have believed him if Dan had just told him that Liv had come along by a strange turn of faith and that she didn’t pose a threat in any way.
But Dan is tired. More than that, he’s exhausted. Going into week two of this insane new world is taking a toll on him. He feels constantly uptight, like his mind is constricted, pulling into itself.
He longs more than anything for this whole thing to be over and done with. And hopefully he’ll have that wish fulfilled soon.
Holger’s house is coming up on the right, placed just as Dan remembers it a few hundred yards off the road, halfway hidden in trees. From here, he can tell there’s a light burning in one of the upstairs rooms.
But as he looks at it, the light goes out.
“It’s here, right?” Liv asks, slowing down the van to turn into the gravel lane leading up to the house.
“Yeah. I think you should turn off the headlights.”
Liv turns them off. The road is still just barely visible as a pale band sloping its way in front of them as she drives on slowly.
“So, what’s the game plan?”
“We’ll have to see if there’re any dead ones by the house,” Dan says. “If so, it’ll be more difficult, but still doable.”
“How exactly will you get inside the house?”
“I need to get to a well cover that’s at the far end of the courtyard. That’s a secret way in.”
“Oh, sneaky.”
“Yeah. I told you Holger thought of everything. Anyway, once I’m in, I’ll tell Dennis about you. He’ll agree to let you in too.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“I’m sure he will.”
“Then what if his crazy mom shows up and kills you?”
Dan shrugs. “I suppose you’ll need to be the one talking sense into her, then.”
Liv scoffs. “If she won’t listen to you, I don’t think I’ll have much of a chance.”
Dan looks at her earnestly. “Promise me you’ll try anyway. Promise me that if I die, you’ll try and get her to reverse this thing.”
Liv glances over at him. “Sure,” she mutters. “I’ll try.”
“Good,” Dan says, taking a deep breath as they approach the trees surrounding the courtyard and Holger’s house.
As soon
as they see the building, they also see the zombies.
There are a lot more of them than when they left the place—Dan counts at least two dozen, all of them pressing up against the wall, reaching for the windows or scratching at the front door.
“Holy cow,” Liv whispers. “You sure you want to go out there?”
“Stop right here,” Dan says. “We can’t get too close, or we’ll draw them to us.”
Liv eyes him sideways. “I think you’ll draw them anyway as soon as you get out of the car.”
Dan nods. “I’ll just have to be quick. The cover is over there. I’m closer than they are, and they’re not very fast. I’ll have twenty seconds or so before they can reach me.”
“More like ten,” Liv murmurs, looking at the crowd of zombies trying fruitlessly to get inside the house. “I really think this is a bad idea.”
“I think so too, but I don’t have a better one.” He looks at her as he unbuckles. “If you do, I’m all ears.”
“Why don’t we just run them all over? It would take a while, but I’m sure the van could do the trick. We’d just pick them out one at a time, and—”
“And that would wake up Birgit,” Dan says. “In fact, the longer we wait, the greater the risk that she’ll see us. I need to get inside before that happens, or she won’t let me.”
Liv shrugs. “I guess you’re right. So, what, I just wait here?”
Dan nods. “I’ll wave at you from the kitchen window—it’s that one right there. You’ll most likely have to go in the same way I do. Just wait for my signal. Okay?”
“Okay. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Dan looks over at the zombies, making sure they’re all still focused on the house. Then he closes his eyes briefly, recalling the faces of Dad, Mom and Jennie. It’s not at all hard, they pop up in great detail right away.
I’m doing it for you guys, he tells them.
And then, before he can have any second thoughts, he opens the door and jumps out. The second his feet—only one of which is still wearing a shoe—hit the ground, most of the undead turn around.
FOUR
Iver looks at Leif for several seconds. Suddenly, he’s acutely aware of the distance between them.
Dead Meat | Day 8 Page 1
