Blood of the Dead: A Zombie Novel (Undead World Trilogy, Book One)

by Fuchs, A. P.

  The flashlight dropped from his lips when a gaunt face stared back at him.

  With a shout, he hopped back, his heart going from zero to a hundred in half a second.

  Hands shaking, he bent down, picked up the flashlight and shone it again at the chair.

  A woman’s head sat on the chair, her eyes open and rolled so far back that the irises were half circles at the top of her eyeballs. The mouth hung slack, rimmed with black and red. The skin, though he couldn’t be sure in the light available, seemed a dark, dark gray, with small black craters spotting the cheeks. Buckets of blood soaked the chair and the floor beneath it.

  It took a second for it to register that the light glimmered off the blood; it was still wet.

  Scccrpt. Scccrpt. Scccrpt.

  August shone the light higher. “Who is it? Who’s there?”

  Nothing but a dark room answered him.

  Scccrpt.

  “I mean it! Answer me!”

  He put the light back in his mouth and aimed his rifle high, ready to blast the head off anything that approached him whether it was alive, dying or dead.

  Silence.

  Five long minutes of it.

  Legs trembling, August resolved that whatever it was, it was now gone.

  He panned the light around the room. The safe was embedded in the wall behind him to his right. The door was open.

  He sidestepped over there, listening for that scraping sound.

  When his back bumped up against the safe door, which was sitting flush against the wall, he shone the light into the safe.

  A body lay at his feet.

  Bang!

  The fabric of the man’s white collared shirt burst and blood sprayed with the pieces.

  August’s hands still vibrated from the instinctive pull of the trigger. He shone the light on the man and discovered the fellow’s legs were eaten away, his arms and his head.

  He closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, then opened his eyes again.

  Man, could he use a drink.

  As quickly as he could, he pushed the torso out of the safe with his feet then grabbed the large, steel bar on the inside of the safe’s door and tried pulling it closed. The door weighed a ton. He set his rifle down and this time used both hands. It was slow-going and he shuddered to think it was because he was too old and weak.

  You’re tired, that’s all, just tired. This’ll be easy come morning.

  August closed the door and left it open a crack so he could get out. He wasn’t sure if it’d lock itself automatically if he closed it all the way, and with next to no light, he didn’t want to be trapped in there in the dark.

  The place smelled of rot, the torso having fouled the air. August wondered if there were more bodies in the dark. Or had they already been eaten or, worse, only partially eaten and were now walking around again?

  Slowly, he lowered himself next to the door, mindful to keep his feet away from the crack in the opening, and leaned sideways against it. If something did try to open it, he’d surely feel the door pressing against him and he’d awake.

  Lying there in the dark, rifle across his chest, hands folded on top of it, August listened for movement outside.

  Silence was his only friend.

  * * * *

  August’s eyes shot open, his heart drumming a good one. Throat dry, he discovered he had slid flat against the floor. Body aching from being in such an uncomfortable position, he walked himself backward on his elbows and leaned up against the corner near where the safe door’s hinges met the wall. He swallowed, the spit moistening the back of his throat a little. He thought about going out into the main area to check for water. He was too tired. His body and mind begged for sleep.

  He closed his eyes again and let his mind drift. He thought about praying but just before the words came, he was gone again, until later, when something stirred outside just beyond the door.

  Scccrpt. Scccrpt. Scccrpt.

  10

  At Joe’s Place

  Joe really didn’t want Billie and Des in his apartment and the only reason he invited them back was because it was the right thing to do.

  But is it really the right thing if my heart isn’t in it?April came bounding out of the front room just as they entered the apartment. She bowed and barked and growled at the newcomers.

  Des took a step back.

  “Don’t worry,” Joe said. “She’s friendly.” Then added, “To me, anyway.” He locked the door and chained the top.

  April’s lips curled way back, showing her teeth. She barked, the sound echoing off the walls.

  “April, quiet!” he told her.

  She barked again.

  Joe stepped up to her and put his hand on her head. “Quiet. It’s okay.” The dog stood straight up on all fours. “Don’t mind her. She’ll get used to you in a moment.”

  Billie nodded. Des had taken another step back.

  The three stood just inside the door, Billie and Des looking at him as if waiting for him to say something.

  “If your shoes stink like the dead, take them off otherwise don’t worry about it. April’ll trail you around if she thinks you’re one of them. Might even jump on you.”

  Des made a face then took off his shoes. Billie took hers off, as well.

  Joe kicked off his boots and took April by the collar and led her into the front room. The other two didn’t follow and it wasn’t until he stood in the middle of the room without them did he add, “You can come in, if you want. Or you can stand there. Up to you guys.”

  Billie and Des came in but didn’t sit. They were a mess, each covered head to toe in sticky zombie blood.

  “You should get cleaned up. As said, April’ll go nuts if you don’t,” Joe told them.

  Billie shrugged. “How?”

  “Got running water?” Des asked.

  “No. But I have water. Bathroom’s at the end of the hallway. Why don’t you guys go down there and clean up. There’re a few jugs in there that you can use, same with a tub.”

  “What about our clothes?” Billie asked.

  Good point, Joe thought. He had a few things Des could wear but nothing for girls. “I got some extra. You can use them.”

  “Where?” Des asked.

  “The bedroom. I’ll get them.”

  Joe led them down the hallway, Billie and Des following behind, April behind them. A low rumble emitted from April’s throat as she trailed Des’s heels.

  The two visitors remained outside the bedroom door as Joe and April went in to find them something to wear. A few moments later he came out with a couple of T-shirts, some pants and socks. April remained at his feet.

  “Here. This should do it. It’s nothing fancy,” he said and handed the stack to Des.

  Des took it between his palms. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said even though a part of him was having a hard time letting the clothes go. He didn’t have much as it was and he’d feel especially rude if he asked for them back when Des and Billie were done with them. He wasn’t even sure if he’d see them again after they left.

  Des and Billie went into the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

  Joe immediately went to the kitchen, pulled off his coat and tossed it on the table. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and shouted down the hallway, “April, come. Now.”

  The dog remained in front of the bathroom door, gazing up at it as if she could see the two beyond.

  Joe whistled. “I said let’s go!”

  Reluctantly, April obeyed and joined him in the front room.

  Muttering came from behind the bathroom door. Joe couldn’t make out what was being said but it sounded like Des was speaking.

  “Is it just me or does he seem to be a bit of a suck?”

  April didn’t reply.

  “Just me, then.”

  He took a swig of beer. It was old, the taste sharp and fizzy. Having these two here, in his home, made his heart ache, especially since one of them was a girl. The
last person to have been in need had been April. She had slept over, back at his old place. Slept with him. They lay together on his bed and it was there they kissed for the first time. That was all. Just a kiss, but it was one Joe could never forget.

  It was the first time he kissed someone he loved.

  You gotta get past this, he thought. “Just move on.”

  But it was impossible.

  April’s memory lingered in every thought, on every breath, was present all the time. Even though she was dead, even though the stamp of finality had been put on things, he still held out hope that some way, somehow, he’d see her again and this all would have been some big misunderstanding.

  “It’s hopeless, isn’t it?”

  The dog looked at him like she did every time he tried to reason out his inability to let April go: a wide, dark-eyed stare, one filled with sympathy and one filled with the hurt of being unable to help. At least, that was how Joe liked to think his dog looked at him every time his heart went for a trip down the gutter.

  By the time Billie and Des emerged from the bathroom, his beer had been long gone.

  Billie led the way down the hallway, wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants. Des followed close behind, wearing jeans and a green T-shirt. Both the socks he had given them were gray.

  “Got a place where I can put these?” Billie asked, holding up a wad of rolled-up, blood-covered clothes.

  “Yeah,” Joe said as he got off the couch and went into the kitchen. He pulled a black garbage bag out from under the sink and had Billie dump the clothes in it. “I’ll toss these next time I go outside.”

  “When is that?” Billie asked, bending her elbows and putting her palms on her lower back.

  April barked.

  “Quiet!” Joe said. To Billie: “Tomorrow. I go out every night.”

  “What for?” Des asked.

  Joe’s mind went blank. He knew why he went out night after night, hunting the undead, but to put it into words . . . . He couldn’t even explain it to himself never mind someone else. “Let’s put it this way,” he said. “The dead are walking the earth. They weren’t supposed to. Once you died, that was it. Now, that’s no longer the case. It would be one thing if it were a set amount of deceased people walking around. It’s quite another when they either eat the rest of us who are still alive or turn us into one of them. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, Des. I go out to try and reclaim some of the life that was taken from us. Will I ever get it all back? No. But at least I’m trying. That’s more than what most folks are doing. Humanity gave up, remember? We’re just pulling through and that’s it. Let’s try fighting for a change. You never know what might happen.”

  Billie had a subtle grin on her face. Des’s face was blank, as if he couldn’t quite compute what he’d just been told.

  “So, you’re, what, some kind of superhero?” Des said.

  Joe smirked. “No, but thanks for the compliment.”

  “I just don’t think it’s wise,” Billie said, “going out like that, asking for trouble. Look at what just happened. Crazy. And you want to walk into that? You’re nuts!”

  You just don’t know I’ve got nothing to lose. “Maybe. But you guys also walked into that.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t know they’d be all over the place.”

  “Neither did I. This is new. It’s been a long while since they’ve gathered in those kinds of numbers.”

  “Think they’re looking to clean us out, that is, wipe everyone who’s left off the map before, I don’t know, moving on to the next city or something?”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. They’re not that smart. Besides, each city is full of the things, remember?”

  April came up beside Joe and sat at his feet, never taking her eyes off Billie and Des.

  “But they are smarter or at least seem to be functioning at a higher level than before,” Des said.

  “Yeah,” Billie said.

  “They seem more feral now, too,” Des said.

  Billie looked at him, eyes wide. “Feral? Now that’s a big word,” she said. “One would think you read or something.”

  “I read.”

  “Yeah, comics.”

  “Still reading.”

  Comics. I used to write those, Joe thought. Des would probably get a kick out of him telling him that, maybe even get all fanboy on him. But that was a lifetime ago.

  “We need to learn more,” Joe said.

  Billie furrowed her brow. “Have a computer? One hooked up to the Net?”

  “Computer, yes. Net, no. I got rid of it.”

  She looked at him incredulously. “Serious?”

  “Not everyone’s a geek like you, you know,” Des said.

  “Shut up.”

  “Pssshh.” Des waved her off with his hand.

  “I was hooked up, long ago. Not anymore. Didn’t need it.”

  “Surprised you were able to disconnect with the service provider,” she said as if she didn’t believe him.

  Joe flashed back to the night he took a beer bottle to his computer in a drunken rage and tried smashing it to bits. His manuscript detailing his weekend with April was on there and, at the time, he thought that by destroying the computer he’d be able to get away from her and put to rest the torment of losing her. He trashed his modem, but the bottle broke when he went for the processor.

  “A lot of surprising things have happened since the rain came, now, haven’t they?” he said.

  She eyed him coolly. He held her gaze, not giving her an inch. For a guest, she had a lot of guts to talk to him like that.

  “Anyway,” Des said, “what now?”

  “Sleep,” Joe said. “We’ll talk once we’re rested. It’s been a long night.”

  April growled.

  “Where do you want us to sleep?” Des asked.

  Joe still kept looking at Billie. She hadn’t taken her eyes off his.

  “Hey, yoohoo?” Des said, waving a hand between them. “I said: ‘Where do you want us to sleep?’ Didn’t you hear me, Joe?”

  “I heard you. Take the bedroom. I’ll sleep out here.”

  “Do you mind?” Billie asked.

  “It’s fine.” No, it’s not! That bed hasn’t been slept in since . . . since . . . April . . . di— “There’s a sheet and a pillow. Should be good enough.”

  “A pillow?” Des said.

  Joe shifted his gaze to him, grimacing. “Is that a problem?”

  Des took a step back. “No, not at all. Thanks. Yeah, um, thanks.”

  Joe turned and sat on the couch. Without looking at them he said, “If there’s a problem, holler. April and I are light sleepers.”

  “Okay,” Des said and he and Billie left the room.

  Billie didn’t say goodnight.

  * * * *

  “Arrrgh, that guy!” Billie said as Des picked a side of the bed.

  “What?”

  “That didn’t seem a little strange to you?”

  Des glanced side to side, as if looking for a clue as to what she was talking about. “What?”

  “He comes out of nowhere, saves our butts—twice!—invites us back here then acts like a jerk!”

  “He’s giving us a bed, Bill.”

  She snapped a finger up and pointed at him.

  “Billie, I mean,” he said. He lied down on the bed and threw her the pillow. “I can live without it,” he muttered. “Sooo . . . what’s going on?”

  She glanced toward the bedroom door before joining him. “You know what? Forget it. I’m tired. Upset. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  She tossed the pillow on her side of the mattress and plopped her head on it. She closed her eyes but the frustration swirling around in her chest forced her upright. “He’s lying to us!”

  “About what?”

  “About being off the Net, that’s for sure. And his whole speech about trying to make the world a better place? As if!”

  “He doesn’t owe us anything, Billie. He’s goin
g out of his way to help us out.” He rolled over and leaned on his elbow. “What’s really going on?”

  She took a deep breath. “This guy’s not all he’s cracked up to be, Des.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, he says—or tries to come off—as all selfless and noble and heroic. He goes around killing zombies, for crying out loud, all for the greater good and all that.”

  “And?”

  “He’s not doing it for us, for the greater good. He thinks he is, but he’s not.”

  “Then what’s he doing it for?”

  “Himself.” She adjusted herself against her pillow. “You can’t tell me that he doesn’t feel a sense of pride every time he knocks one of them off. You can’t tell me that he truly and honestly enjoys it when someone thanks him. You can’t tell me that he hates any kind of hero worship. He’s as human as you or me, Des. You and I both know that we can sugarcoat our service to others under the guise of ‘giving of ourselves’ and being ‘selfless’ and ‘humble,’ when deep, deep down, even if it’s just a small part of us, we enjoy the thought of ‘doing the right thing.’ It’s one thing to feel that whole better-to-give-than-receive satisfaction, but do you know what that saying really means?”