B00BDBO28Q EBOK

by Patrick D'orazio

  “You have anything useful in your house?”

  He could see a twitch of anger cross Megan’s face and then disappear under a veil of sadness. The question had to be asked, even if it stung. All their possessions, all their cherished memories, were useless now, obsolete. The only things of value that remained were items that might help them survive another day.

  Megan walked to the door at the back of the garage, bumping into Jeff as she passed. She looked like she was sleepwalking. Slumping over, she sat on the steps leading into the house and put her chin in her hands. When she spoke, her words were monotone, nearly robotic.

  “My husband’s gun is on a table next to the front door. There’s a box of bullets on the top shelf of the closet in the master bedroom. It’s behind a stack of shirts. The keys to both cars are on a hook in the kitchen. There are a few cans of food on the counter, but the only water left is in the bathtub.”

  Jeff’s eyes lit up when he heard the word gun. Seeing her downcast expression, he worked to keep his own solemn.

  “You’re not coming in then, I take it?”

  Megan did not look up as she shook her head. Nodding, Jeff touched her shoulder as he moved past her up the steps, opening the door into the house.

  “Whatever you do, don’t go down to the basement.”

  Jeff turned, looking at Megan from just inside the door. Her back was to him, and he could gather nothing from her slumped shoulders. When she said nothing further, he quietly shut the door and moved into the depths of the abandoned house.

  * * *

  Megan’s mind wandered back over her experiences of the past few weeks. Flashes of her husband barricading them inside the house flitted through her mind. She remembered him leaving in the jeep and promising to come back with enough supplies to last a month. When he had returned, his arm was bleeding from where one of those lunatics had bitten him. She recalled how he begged her not to let him turn into one of those things and slipped her the revolver before passing out from the pain.

  Her reverie was interrupted by a sound from outside the garage. Megan leapt to her feet, her back pressed against the door. She glanced around, trying to find the baseball bat she had brought back with her. It was sitting in the passenger seat of the Jeep. Her heart raced as she took a single step toward the SUV and then hesitated, fearful that she might alert whatever was out on the street to her presence.

  A minute later, after no more sounds came from outside, she crept toward the front of her garage. When she saw the culprit that had startled her, she let out a short embarrassed laugh and moved to the edge of the garage.

  An orange housecat was on the porch across the street. It had knocked over a flowerpot and was digging into something next to the pile of dirt and broken shards of pottery. It raised its head when it heard her laugh and stared at Megan.

  Her stomach churned as she realized what the cat was standing on. As it dipped its head back down and tore into the hunk of meat, ripping off a small piece and chewing it, its eyes never left the woman standing across the street.

  Megan could see the blood dripping off its whiskers as it stared at her, indifferent, as only a cat can be. It lowered its head again and continued digging into its maggoty meal. Its bright coat was tarnished by clots of dirt and a few smears of dried blood, but it looked to be in good health. Plump, in fact. The end of the world had been good to this particular feline.

  Retreating into the garage, Megan tried to blot out the image of the cat and its grisly feast.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the door at the back of the garage open. Jeff walked through the doorway and smiled at her, not noticing her startled expression or her hand gripping her chest as she leaned against the Corolla.

  He carried a plastic grocery bag and had jammed her husband’s .357 Magnum into the waistband of his jeans. He raised the bag, showing her what he had collected. Megan could see the bullets and the Jeep keys through the transparent material, along with three cans of vegetables that represented the last of her food except for the stale crackers still up on the nightstand next to her bed. They had been her primary sustenance over the past couple of weeks. She couldn’t care less if she ever saw another cracker again.

  “Can we leave now?”

  Jeff was surprised by the irritated question. Megan looked even more agitated than before he had entered the house.

  “Uh, yeah.” He composed himself and dug into the bag. “We need to get the van first.” Seeing Megan’s reaction change from irritation to anger, he explained. “The van’s tank is full. I don’t have any idea where we’re going after tonight, but I don’t want to do it on less than a full tank of gas.”

  Megan didn’t say anything; she just folded her arms and rubbed them. Jeff was beginning to think this nervous habit was her favorite thing to do. He jingled the Jeep keys.

  “So...you ready?”

  * * *

  The trip took only a couple of minutes. With no horde chasing them, they were better able to take in the extent of the destruction around them. A few houses were in good shape, while most were ripped apart with windows shattered and doors hanging off their hinges. The two of them cringed as they spotted remains scattered across the front lawns of several homes and silently wondered if they were the owners or just some other unlucky souls caught trying to escape the carnage on foot.

  Jeff looked up and down the street for movement or signs of life. Seeing none, he relaxed slightly. When he saw the van up ahead, he risked breathing a little easier. The vehicle looked to be okay; the mob had not taken their frustrations out on it as they passed by. Things were looking up.

  As he pulled up next to it, he glanced into the backyard. His eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head in frustration. Leaning over, he grabbed his baseball bat from off the floorboards. As he did, he felt pressure on his hip. Jeff pulled the revolver from his waistband and handed it to Megan. She looked at him, confused.

  “Go on over to the van,” he said as he left the Jeep and walked toward the backyard. “I’ll be right back,” he responded to Megan’s unspoken question and then turned to run into the backyard.

  There were four still up top. Not a single one was able to stand, and they had all been crawling toward the wall before they heard the Jeep pull up. Now they were turning, trying to make the arduous journey back to where Jeff and Megan were. One started in with the grim dirge Jeff knew so well, and the other three joined the chorus almost immediately.

  Jeff did not break stride as he gripped the bat in both hands and took a golf swing at the closest one. The scarred aluminum made solid contact with its face. The moaning stopped as its neck snapped and its head flopped onto its back. He kicked the next one, and several teeth flew out of its mouth. Standing over it, Jeff let the blows rain down until its head was a puddle of mush.

  The two remaining were easily dispatched in the same fashion. They had all been crippled before he had gotten to them and posed little threat.

  Jeff was sliding the bat over the grass, wiping the streaks of gore off of it when he heard more moans coming from over the ledge. Looking back toward the van, he saw Megan standing between the two vehicles, a horrified expression on her face.

  Unable to deny his curiosity, Jeff walked toward the wall. Swallowing hard, he peered over the edge. The sound increased as those below caught sight of him.

  Broken bodies squirmed and wriggled on their blanket of pulped and mutilated corpses. They were tearing each other apart, and it was clear from the extent of the damage done that they had been doing so ever since Jeff had left. As bad as they looked before, they were almost unrecognizable now. Only a few still had the use of their eyes or throats, and those that did wailed woefully at him. Those with arms raised them, scratching and clawing the others in their attempts to pull their own bodies above the pile.

  Jeff had to turn away after only a few seconds. He spat on the ground, trying to get the taste of death out of his mouth as he rubbed his eyes, hoping the image woul
d fade. It didn’t, and somehow he knew it would stick with him for a long time to come.

  Walking quickly back to the van, he brushed past Megan as he tugged open the driver’s-side door and dug in his pocket for the keys. Finding them, he tossed the bat in back and turned the key in the ignition. Megan slid into the passenger seat, glaring at him.

  “You seem to be enjoying yourself,” she spat out. Her expression shifted from frosty irritation to discomfort as she saw the look of pain on his face. Megan’s mouth slammed shut, and she looked away.

  Jeff flipped the van into reverse and backed up. He twisted the steering wheel and switched gears, and they were moving down the road, heading back toward Megan’s house.

  As they crept down the road, Megan looked over at Jeff again. The worst of the pain was gone from his expression, but she could still see the ghost of it in his eyes.

  “You can’t kill them all.”

  Jeff barely heard the quiet words. He looked at Megan in confusion, but she had already turned away, leaning her forehead against the window and looking at her house as they passed it by.

  Jeff wanted to say something in response, to argue that he wasn’t trying to kill all of them, but he knew it would sound silly after what he had just done.

  So instead, he set his sights on the road as they moved up the hill toward the heart of the subdivision. The day was wearing down, and it would soon be dusk. They had to find a suitable house to break into to spend the night. The coast still looked clear, but Jeff knew there were more ghouls lurking out there, waiting for darkness to fall, so they could begin the hunt.

  Chapter 12

  “There.” Jeff tapped on the brakes. He pointed at a house as they slowed to a stop in front of it.

  Like most houses in the neighborhood, it was a two-story traditional with a covered porch running the length of the front, except for the attached two-car garage. The windows were still intact, and Jeff could see the wood nailed up behind them on the first floor. The blinds were drawn on all the second-floor windows, and there was no obvious damage.

  He turned off the engine and stared at the house for a few moments.

  “So what do you think?”

  Megan shrugged. They had driven down several streets looking for a house, and this was the first that looked like someone might still be living in it. Jeff had mumbled something about trying to find other folks who had been hiding out like they had, and she had nodded politely, though she was skeptical as to their chances of discovering anyone left in the neighborhood who didn’t want to tear their throats out.

  Jeff reached back for the Maglite and the baseball bat, then stepped outside. Surveying the immediate area, he seemed satisfied that they were still in the clear.

  Megan got out as well, and they met at the front of the van. Jeff looked at her and smiled. “You know how to use that thing?”

  Megan lifted the .357, which looked huge in her hands, popped the cylinder out and spun it, confirming it was loaded. With a flick of her wrist, it snapped shut, and she pointed it skyward.

  “My husband took me out to a shooting range a couple of times. I know what I’m doing.” The look in her eyes was defiant, and Jeff bowed his head and nodded.

  “Well, I’ll just stick with old faithful then,” he said, lifting the bat. He could feel his small handgun digging into his thigh, but he wasn’t about to pull it out. It would just make Megan laugh.

  She began walking toward the house, the gun still pointed in the air.

  “Uh,” Jeff uttered as he ran to catch up with her, “you don’t have to do this. I can check the place out myself.” Megan didn’t bother sparing him a backward glance as she kept moving forward. He was forced to follow to keep up. “I meant it,” he called after her. She was already crossing the lawn, headed for the front door. Jeff awkwardly shifted the heavy flashlight to the same hand carrying the bat so he could grab her elbow from behind and gently stop her.

  Megan turned slowly before she spoke. “Look, I know I was upset with you in the van. I’m sorry about that, but this…” She waved the gun a little as she looked around, the frustration showing on her face. “It’s just hard to comprehend, you know?”

  Jeff nodded slowly, a skeptical look on his face.

  “I’m still just getting my bearings, okay? But I’m fine, honestly. I can handle this.” Megan could see that she had not convinced him. “I am not going to let you take all the risks while I just sit in the minivan.”

  Megan gave Jeff a fierce stare until he sighed and nodded again. She could see the slight touch of regret in his eyes and did her best to ignore it.

  He looked at the house, sizing it up. “Let’s stick together, but stay a few feet back from me. We need to check things out around back before we try to figure out how to get inside.”

  Megan nodded and waved him forward.

  “After you.”

  Jeff smiled and moved past her. He fumbled with the flashlight, attempting to shove it through a belt loop in his jeans. It wouldn’t fit and Megan rolled her eyes. She stepped up and took it from him, holding it comfortably in her left hand as she hefted the revolver in her right.

  “I’ll give it back whenever you need it,” she assured him.

  Jeff nodded as he gripped the baseball bat more easily with both hands. The late afternoon sun beat down on them as they moved around to the back of the house. There was no fence, so the trip took only a few seconds. He wiped the sweat from his brow and moved toward the patio. The sliding glass door was intact and a big couch with a loveseat on top of it had been pushed against the doors. Jeff looked at the first-floor windows and saw they were blacked out with what appeared to be garbage bags. No glass had been shattered. Backing up, he could see that the second-story windows had the shades pulled just like out front. Megan came around the corner, and he gave her a thumbs-up before heading to the other side of the house.

  The garage door was almost identical to the one Jeff had on his house: aluminum painted beige. Whereas his had no windows, this one had two, both of which were covered with black garbage bags as well. He checked the handle on the garage door, twisting it quietly. It was locked. He tapped the bat against the windowpane gently. It did not sound as though there were any sort of reinforcement behind the garbage bag to prevent the glass from being smashed in.

  “You gonna break it?” Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin when Megan’s question came from directly behind him.

  “Jesus, woman!” he said as he grabbed at his chest. Megan’s face split into a grin despite Jeff’s obvious irritation.

  “Sorry,” was all she said, without a speck of sincerity. After a moment, he had to smile too. He made an exaggerated gesture as though he were going to club her with the bat, and they laughed together. Jeff shook his head and moved to the front of the house with Megan following. He walked to the front door and tried the knob. Two quick twists and he dropped his hand.

  “Why don’t you just ring the doorbell?”

  Jeff glanced over at Megan, and she explained. “I mean, what difference does it make? You can’t hear it out here. Look around you.” She waved the gun at their deathly silent surroundings. “We have been talking out loud and driving the van, and no one has noticed.”

  She had a point. Jeff nodded.

  “Here goes nothing.”

  He pressed the button. Expecting to hear chimes, he was surprised when there was nothing. Megan leaned forward and pushed the button as well, repeatedly.

  “Come on,” she said, irritated, and Jeff began to laugh quietly. She looked at him.

  “Boy, aren’t we a pair?” Megan continued to stare quizzically at Jeff. “Did we think that the electricity had come back on all of a sudden?” She sighed and shook her head, feeling stupid.

  “Ding dong, dumbasses calling,” she said and barked out a short self-deprecating laugh.

  “Well, how about we just knock?” Jeff banged on the door. The silent response was deafening.

  “Maybe they’re upstairs s
leeping.” He looked skeptical at Megan’s suggestion but rapped the edge of the door again, harder this time. The doorframe rattled under the blows. Megan looked nervously up and down the street but saw that the sound wasn’t drawing any undue attention.

  Jeff motioned for her to step back. He wound up and took a full swing at the glass with the bat. A spider web appeared in it, but the ornate decorative display glass had lines of metal running through it. It would take several blows to knock it out.

  “The side door would probably be a better bet,” Megan said as he swung again. Jeff ignored her and took several more swings before he paused, staring at the glass, which was cracked but still in place.

  “Fuck it,” Jeff grumbled as he moved back to the side of the house. Megan hid her smile as she followed. He had already rammed the bat through one of the glass panels on the side door, shattering it, by the time she got there. “Nothing behind it,” he commented, sticking the bat through the hole to lift the garbage bag and get a view inside. He motioned for her to hand him the flashlight.

  He clicked the Maglite on and swept the beam across the garage floor. Satisfied, Jeff set the bat down and reached inside for the deadbolt. It clicked open, and they walked in.

  The garage was jammed full of stacks of junk and an old Pontiac sedan. There were bags of clothes and several pieces of broken furniture. The claw hammer lying on top of one of the disassembled chairs led Jeff to believe that the wood was what the family had used in their effort to barricade the place.

  His eyes narrowed as he stared past the piles of clothes and wood. It appeared that no one had broken into the place before them, yet no one had responded to all the noise they had made. The place smelled musty, but that was a major improvement over the charnel house smell of the rest of the neighborhood.

  Testing the knob, Jeff was surprised to find the interior door unlocked. He opened it a crack and nudged the flashlight against it. Megan tensed and held the revolver with both hands. When nothing happened, she relaxed slightly but kept a tight grip on the gun.