The Rising Dead

by Devan Sagliani

  “Nice to finally put a face to the name.”

  “Likewise,” Travis said, trying to sound casual. She giggled.

  “You're too cute,” she said, turning back to Parker. “Let's get this party started.”

  “That's what I've been saying,” Holt said, shaking his head and smashing an empty beer can on his head.

  “I can do that with my tits,” Erin said, wandering over with half the bottle of tequila still. “My names Erin.”

  “I think I might be in love,” said Holt.

  “Easy big guy,” Parker said, patting him on the back. “You are not in love.”

  “I might be,” Holt argued. “You never really can tell with these kinds of things.”

  “Come with me,” Erin said, taking Holt by the hand. They turned and walked outside, heading towards her dorm room at the end of the hallway.

  Parker, Gemma, and Travis sat on the bed and drank. Travis told Gemma all about the Zombie Walk planned for the next day and invited her to the convention. She seemed genuinely interested until Max's name came up.

  “She sure loves having all the attention, doesn't she?”

  “Who?” Parker asked.

  “That web chick with the dudes name,” Gemma said. “Max. What's that short for anyway? Maxine? I wonder if girls she grew up with called her Maxi Pad behind her back. You think they did?”

  “I dunno, I guess,” Parker said, trying to sound disinterested.

  “You're not into her, are you?”

  “Nope,” said Parker a little too fast.

  “Good,” said Gemma. “She's gross. I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out she had a dick down there.”

  Parker smiled and turned away. One of Erin's friends was making eyes at him from across the room.

  “What's her name?” Parker asked.

  “You know I really don't know,” Gemma said. “She came in with the psycho slut posse over there but we were never introduced. Why don't you go find out who she is for me?”

  “Don't worry,” Parker said. “I will get to the bottom of it right away.”

  “I'm sure you will,” Gemma said as he sprang up from the bed.

  “Well,” Travis said, polishing off his beer, “it's just us now.”

  “Have you seen Candy come back?” Gemma asked looking distracted. “I'd still like to go to that party if she's done blowing that DVL.”

  “DVL?” said Travis, confused.

  “Dirty Vegas Local,” Gemma replied. “I worry about her sometimes. She looks like she's had a lot to drink.”

  “What can you do?”

  “I've gotta keep an eye on her,” said Gemma.

  “Sure,” Travis replied, trying to hide his disappointment. “I understand.”

  “Would you mind walking around the dorms with me to go find her?” Gemma asked, turning and facing him. For a minute he thought maybe he was fantasizing again. “I hate to ask you to leave your friends but I don't want to go wandering around campus alone at night.”

  “No,” said Travis. “It's no problem. I'd be happy to walk with you.”

  Her face lit up.

  “Oh my God, thank you so much,” Gemma squealed. “I will totally make it up to you when we get to Slaughterhouse. I promise.”

  Travis didn't know what to say to that so he just smiled and nodded. Parker fought back a smile as they walked out of the dorm party holding hands.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Without saying much, Travis and Gemma walked as fast as they could around the outside of the dorms and near the moonlit trail that wound between the Slaughterhouse and campus. Gemma was desperate to find Candy, but there was no sign of her. At first, Travis hoped they would slow down so he could talk to her but as they reached the edge of the campus, emerging from a copse of trees and tall grass, he was actually glad he hadn't been forced to make polite conversation. He decided it was too awkward trying to think of the right thing to say, given the circumstances. The best thing he could do was be there for her as a friend instead of trying to impress her.

  The last thing you want is for her to think you’re coming on to her right now, he thought. There will be time later to get to know her better, maybe at the Slaughterhouse party.

  “You see her?” she asked, shaking him from his thoughts.

  “No,” Travis replied, glancing around the campus grounds.

  “She might have gone to the other side of the dorms,” Gemma said.

  “Why would she go there?” Travis asked.

  “There's an empty dorm,” Gemma said. “Stoners go there to get high and fuck. It's nasty. I'm praying she isn't up there.” She rushed on ahead of him. Travis did as he was told, keeping pace with her. They climbed a series of steps, then wound their way through an empty hallway until they reached the room. The door was slightly ajar. Gemma burst in with Travis on her heels expecting to see Candy making out on a bed with some strange kid from town. Instead, the room was empty.

  “She's not here,” said Gemma.

  “Maybe she went back to his place,” Travis offered, trying to be helpful but feeling a bit lost in the moment. Just then, they heard the unmistakable sound of a girl screaming coming from outside.

  “Wait,” Gemma stared out the window towards the parking lot. “Is she outside? We must have gone right past her.”

  They rushed out to find Candy was bent over in the bushes, violently throwing up and crying. Travis nearly let out a sigh of relief. She was drunk but she would be okay. He figured this was the best possible outcome. They could clean her up, put her in bed, then spend the night talking. He'd come off like a real knight in shining armor.

  “You reek of tequila,” Gemma said, chiding her friend. She leaned over and pulled her hair out of her face, trying to avoid the wet part that was tangled in the plants. On closer inspection, Candy did not look well. Her face was sallow and white--there were dark bags forming under her eyes, one of which was bloodshot and bright pink.

  “Oh my God,” Gemma said, releasing Candy as she fell back on the grass. There was blood on her clothes. “Candy! What happened?”

  “They went crazy,” Candy whined, choking back more tears. “We went upstairs to do more blow but there were two guys already up there. The next thing I knew they were all over me, digging into me with their fingers. Then they started biting me...hard.”

  “What?”

  “I fought them off and ran,” Candy said. “One of them was right behind me, growling like a dog. I screamed and then he was on top of me again.”

  “Where is he now?” Gemma tried to stay calm for Candy's sake.

  “I don't know,” Candy said, bursting into another crying fit. “I hit him again and again but he wouldn't stop. Then he just seemed to come out of a trance and got up and walked away. I think he's headed towards Slaughterhouse.”

  Candy threw herself back over bushes and loudly vomited again. Gemma flashed a concerned look at Travis. Travis leaned over Candy and checked her arms. There were fresh bite wounds all right. It looked just like she described, as if a small pack of animals had torn a good chunk out of her with their teeth. He covered his mouth, fighting back revulsion. This was bad news.

  “You wanna call campus security?” he asked.

  “I think she might need a doctor.”

  “You're probably right,” said Travis.

  “Do you have a car?”

  “No,” Travis shrugged. “We should go get Parker. He'll know what to do.”

  “That's not a bad idea. Can you help me with her?” Gemma asked.

  “I think maybe you should wait here,” Travis said, trying to sound confident. “I'll go grab him and we'll be right back.”

  “Okay then,” Gemma said with a heavy sigh. “Hurry back now.”

  Travis set off at a light jog, being careful not to trip and twist his ankle or hurt himself. The last thing they needed was someone else getting hurt. He could still feel a buzz from the beer. It took him longer than he expected to get her back to the dorm party
and when he got there, Holt was out of his mind drunk entertaining everyone. Travis took Parker aside and explained the situation.

  “No shit,” Parker said. “They bit her?”

  “That's what she said,” Travis shrugged.

  “She's going to be fine,” Holt roared, drunkenly butting into the conversation. “She just needs to sleep this off. Maybe some stitches in the morning if it hasn't stopped bleeding. Trust me.”

  “She needs immediate medical attention, you dick!” Travis screamed in his face.

  “I'll drive,” Parker said. “Let's go guys.”

  Parker charged off down the hall keys already in hand as Holt and Travis followed behind.

  “I'm really worried about her,” Travis said.

  “We'll get her taken care,” Parker replied. “You're gonna look like the big hero for helping out her friend. It will be okay. I promise.”

  Holt scoffed at them.

  “She got bit by some drunken creep. Big deal. Let's not blow things out of proportion.”

  Parker took him by the shoulders.

  “We're going to the hospital to get her checked out. You can come with us or stay here. Decide fast.”

  “This is bullshit!” Holt shouted.

  Within minutes they were with Gemma and Candy.

  “You weren't playing,” Parker said to Travis. “She looks pretty sick dude.”

  “I told you,” Travis said. “Help me get her into the truck.”

  They took either side of Candy and carried her dead weight over to the parking lot. Gemma climbed into the truck and helped them load Candy into the back of the cab.

  We look like a bunch of serial killers, thought Travis grimly, setting off to bury a fresh corpse.

  Parker climbed behind the wheel and fired up the engine.

  “Please hurry,” Gemma pleaded and Parker floored it, the truck tires spitting grass and gravel as they took off towards town.

  Parker raced through the unlit back roads with only the blue light of the moon casting dark shadows through the trees onto the road. Off in the distance the lights of the Strip blinded anyone foolish enough to stare at them long. Gemma held Candy's head in her lap while the poor girl whimpered in pain.

  “Why aren't you taking the 95?” Gemma asked.

  “It's just faster to take Maryland,” Parker said. “Trust me.”

  “Which hospital are we going to?” Travis asked.

  “Sunrise is closest,” Parker said. “Hold on.”

  They came to a straight stretch and Parker punched it, racing up toward one hundred miles an hour.

  “It's going to be okay, baby,” Gemma cooed. “Hang in there. We'll be at the hospital soon.”

  Parker adjusted the mirror to get a better look. Candy looked gravely ill. Her condition had deteriorated unbelievably fast. It was beyond anything he'd ever seen.

  “Just hang on back there,” Parker called, focusing on them instead of the road ahead.

  Candy coughed and blood flecked her hands.

  “Jesus,” Travis said involuntarily.

  “This is way beyond alcohol poisoning,” Parker said. “I'm thinking maybe there was something wrong with that coke. Maybe she's having some kind of reaction to it. Who knows? Maybe he tried to roofie her.”

  Gemma looked up in concern as he spoke. It was clear she wished he would just stop talking. He was freaking her out even more about a bad situation.

  “I've seen this kind of thing before,” he carried on, ignoring her. “Some jerk slipped GHB into my friend’s cup at a party in high school. She lost all control of her motor functions, but the next day she was fine. Had no memory of it, just a wicked headache.”

  Without warning, the headlamps of the truck revealed moving shapes struggling in the dark ahead of them. Parker turned just in time to see them--two people fighting in the middle of the road. He slammed on the brakes and came screeching to a halt in front of them, the lights of his truck fully illuminating the action. A man in tattered clothes had knocked another man to the ground and pinned him there. The sick man was attempting to lean over with his open mouth and bite the man on the ground. He struggled and squirmed, using all her strength to keep his attacker at bay as he tried to escape.

  “What the fuck!” Parker screamed.

  “We've got to help him!” Travis cried out.

  “Don't open the door,” Gemma pleaded. “Please!”

  Before they could react, the truck shook violently as Holt leaped from the back with a loud war cry and raced toward the fight, baseball bat in hand. Without hesitation, Holt made an arcing sweep with the bat that connected with the sick man's face, sending him sprawling onto his back. They heard the crack a millisecond later. Holt wheeled around triumphantly, holding the bat high in his right hand, a huge smile plastered across his drunken face.

  “And the crowd goes wild!” he shouted at the night sky.

  The sick man began to crawl away toward the hospital parking lot, but Holt spotted him trying to escape and stomped the back of his legs, significantly slowing him down.

  “Not so fast, buddy,” he said, leaning over him.

  The helpless man didn't waste any time. He bounded up and ran for the truck, pounding on the driver's side window and pleading to be let in. Parker didn't move.

  “Please man,” he pleaded. “I need you to take me to the Tropicana. My wife is working there. I need to get her out of this city now!”

  “It's not gonna happen pal,” Parker said. “Be grateful we stopped in the first place.”

  The man punched at the truck. Gemma screamed. Just then Holt came around the side of the truck pointing his bat at the man.

  “Are we gonna have a problem?”

  The man shook his head and stepped back, looking sick himself.

  Holt began to open his mouth to tear into the him, but the man opened his mouth and vomited a foamy slush of oily black bile onto the asphalt that made Holt back away, cursing him.

  “Freak!” Holt yelled, giving up and walking back to the truck.

  “Jesus,” Gemma whispered.

  “You're just lucky we're in a hurry,” Holt chided as he lumbered back into the truck bed. “If we had more time I'd teach you a lesson you'd never forget. Let's rock and roll!”

  Holt slapped the side of the truck again and Parker took off, avoiding the man and his vomit.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sunrise Hospital was jam packed with sick people. Most of them looked like Candy, or worse.

  If this isn’t the dictionary definition of the word ‘chaos’, Travis thought to himself, then it’s the closest thing I’ve seen to it in my life.

  Patients lined the tiny waiting room in varying states of illness--some moaning, some whimpering, some shuffling back and forth listlessly, all looking more and more agitated. Every other minute, a new case came in with basically what amounted to the same symptoms. Eventually, the front desk began telling new arrivals that the facilities were overwhelmed and suggested trying either an urgent care center or the next town over. A fat, middle aged man who looked like a Treasure Island pirate missing some patches of hair threw up right next to them. Travis barely managed to jump out of the way before the foul smelling, discolored liquid spewed all over the floor. No one came to clean it up and eventually their group shuffled a little to the side to avoid the wretched smell.

  Candy had been taken in almost immediately after they arrived. The tired nurse had agreed to let Gemma fill out her paperwork. Her condition by that point had deteriorated so rapidly that she looked like she was dying. Now, she was unable to communicate at all. Two men in white scrubs brought out a gurney and wheeled Candy back to an examination room. The friends had already been waiting two or three hours and were slowly losing track of time as the hospital filled up with the afflicted.

  “How much longer can this go on,” Holt complained. He was growing more and more restless as the effects of the alcohol wore off. “I'm not sure how much more of this I can take, to be honest. This pl
ace is a damn zoo! Looks like Circus Circus at happy hour.”

  “No one forced you to come along,” Gemma reminded him. “No one is forcing you to stay.”

  “Don't talk like that to him,” Parker said. “If it wasn't for him we might have been carjacked a minute ago.”

  “We'd still have made it here,” Gemma said sourly. “We were practically in the parking lot. Who told you to stop for some stranger in the first place?”

  “I think we're all just tired,” Travis said, trying to be the peace maker. “Everyone just needs to stay calm.”

  “The little lady has a point,” said Holt, getting up. “I’m out of here.”

  “I don't think that's such a good idea,” Travis said. “We have no idea what's really going on out there,” Travis paused and waved around the room to illustrate his point, “but we do know that it’s getting worse.”

  “Travis's right,” Parker said, but Holt just laughed at them.

  “It's been a wacky night,” he said. “I'll grant you that. Maybe the mother ship has landed and is calling all the weirdos back home.”

  “That's ridiculous,” Gemma said.

  “Exactly,” he said. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to see about another drink. I bid you all a fond farewell. Good evening.”

  Holt turned and hurried out of the emergency room. No one tried to stop him. The truth of the matter was that if he really wanted to leave there was no way they could stop him. The guy was literally over two hundred pounds. A few minutes later an attending physician came out to talk to them, clipboard in hand.

  “Are you the ones that brought in Candice Swanson?” he asked.

  “How is she?” Gemma replied, her voice cracking with concern.

  “She's sleeping now. We gave her something to help her rest,” the doctor said. “We've just got to isolate the source of the infection. We've given her a cocktail of antibiotics, and the nap she’s taking will help. It says on her chart she ingested cocaine? Is that correct?”

  “Yeah,” Gemma said. “I think so.”

  “Do you have any idea how much?”