16
“C’mon, this way! We’re gonna miss the show,” Killian leads his brother whose sour mood affects his speed, the boy drags his feet and lags behind. They aren’t certain where the concert is being held and are trying to locate it by sound, hearing the audience applaud loudly.
“Calm down,” the depressed youth says. Whenever he is feeling down he has a habit of being surly as if he wishes everyone to join him. “They’re just clapping. It’s not like you’re girlfriend hasn’t started yet.”
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
“Then why did you keep those magazines with her on the cover under your bed, and lock me out of our room so you could look at them?”
Killian doesn’t have an answer for his need for privacy at his age, he just follows his ears towards the sounds of adulation that are getting louder letting him know that they are getting closer. His companion holds him back like a ball and chain, if not for this funk they’d both be running to the show.
Hippo continues to pick at his brother. “It’s not like you’re gonna see her boobs,” he says, looking up from his downcast view of the floor to see if he has gotten a reaction. “Boobs. Big deal. Mom has boobs. You wanna see…”
They are so close but unable to determine which way to go, the clapping is a thunderous roar, intermittent between pauses where they can hear Kelly Peel speak to the people. During an exceptionally long and loud burst of clapping and cheers, screaming is added. Bloodcurdling cries of terror stop the brothers in their tracks, it’s in the halls with them.
From around the corner just down the hallway before them, a naked woman comes running. The boys are in shock, the fact that this is their first time seeing a naked woman in person is sullied by the utter horror on her face. The effort she puts into escaping whatever frightens her robs her body of any shred of grace and sexuality. This is not how Killian expected his first sighting to be.
“There. Happy?” Hippo asks. “Gross.”
The woman just skirts around them, passing by, still screaming. They watch her depart down the hall not certain what to make of it. More screams come from where she had fled like an echo. It’s coming from around the corner, desperate cries for help.
“Stay here,” Killian tells his brother as he peeks into the next hall.
Shrill pleading, screams that chill his bones await the older boy when he pokes his head around the corner. They shake the walls of the corridor, warning him to tread no further. He ignores the foreboding feeling in his gut and rounds the bend. Not to be left out of something that finally interests him and takes his mind off his personal issues, Hippo is right behind his brother, disregarding the instruction to stay back.
The screams are coming from an open door. The older boy creeps closer, his brother at his back so close they become one entity. He prepares to peek into the room to see what is going on when suddenly he doesn’t have to, the woman screaming tries to claw her way out along the floor.
Taken aback, Killian flinches and knocks into Hippo. They rush to the woman’s aid, like the other lady they saw she is naked, only this girl is covered in blood. Her screams cease upon sighting the helpful pair, they flank her looking into the room to see what it is that terrorizes her so, what could have made these wounds.
“Isn’t that your girlfriend’s husband?” Hippo asks. He tries to get a grip on the naked woman’s arm to pull her away from Randy Russell but her bare skin is slick with blood.
“Not now,” Killian replies. They haven’t much time to get the victim clear. The British comedian is tangled in a toppled rack of clothes where the girl had shoved him to make her escape.
The woman has a nasty wound on the back of her neck, another behind her arm on her tricep. She looks back at the man that had done this to her as he rises from the knots of costumes. Her screaming resumes with fresh terror.
“Not this again,” Hippo complains about her screaming. “You have to help us, help you. Get up!”
But, she is beyond reaction, too petrified by fear to get up. The boys can’t lift her, dragging her would be too slow a process, Killian has a plan.
“Shove her back in,” he tells his brother.
“What? Even I don’t think that’s cool,” Hippo responds misunderstanding, giving her to the obvious zombie doesn’t sit well with him.
“Just do it. I’ll take care of Randy Russell,” Killian clarifies, finding it odd to use a person’s first and last name when the person is present.
The younger of the two begins to shove the girl, her blood trail makes it easy as it reduces the friction greatly. She is horrified at first by what he’s doing and bats at the boy yelling for him to stop. His brother has bravely entered the room and taken a towel from the back of a chair set in front of a round make-up mirror. The comedian’s eyes are locked onto the morsel, he takes steps towards him, starved for flesh having been robbed after just a taste. Blood is soaked around his bristly mouth, his signature scruff acting like a sponge.
Killian holds the towel if front of himself like a matador as the zombie closes the distance, he’s scared but has no choice but to act. He holds his position, letting the menace draw near, waiting for the right moment. Randy lunges, the boy steps aside and wraps his head in the towel. He quickly pulls the corners around to the back of the ghoul’s head and holds them together in tight fists. He’s seen his dad do this before when a raccoon got into their house, not wanting to kill the animal in front of his son.
Randy Russell thrashes, but the boy holds on for dear life, guiding the blind zombie to the door where he casts him out. The ghoul is sent into the wall across the corridor, clumsily falling to the ground. Undeterred by his face smashing into solid concrete, Randy recovers and gets up. Killian closes the door and locks the knob, sealing out the threat. He wishes he had a means to dispatch the zombie, rather than allowing it to remain active, possibly harming someone else, but he had no option. He did all he could do to protect his brother and save the girl. He breathes a sigh of relief and tries to remind himself that this is an Army base, someone will be able to stop one zombie, he hopes.
17
The panic in the dining hall has ceased, and not at all from becoming safer. A tense quiet falls among the blind. This lull comes on the heels of a crescendo in the anxiety, someone yelled out above the others that he had been bitten. All listened to the man groan as he tried to get away from his unseen assailant as fast as he could without being able to see. He whimpered and stumbled in the thick fog, the witnesses knowing that only one thing would bite, and that evasion would be impossible for the victim since it has been confirmed that the dead are drawn to the smell of blood.
The man was unable to find refuge among the other bodies rushing to avoid him since he would just bait the alleged zombie wherever he went. Another agonized scream made everyone gasp, the crowd became still and quieted down as the tension rose. Listening in the dark with bated breath, hoping not to feel ice cold hands locating them. The sudden report of a rifle startled everyone.
Shots have been fired, brief flashes lit up the smoke like lightening in the clouds. There’s no talking now, the people barely breathe. Susan remains under her table listening to the dark, the slow shuffle of feet, and the occasional moan. Only the soldiers meant to keep them safe are allowed to carry weapons. One has seen fit to discharge his or hers leaving Susan and everyone in the hall with a residual image fading on their retinas and the question, is it safe now?
18
“Subject: Mary is unresponsive to treatment,” a researcher says into a digital recorder elsewhere on base. One of the ground level units of the Army hospital is being utilized for educational purposes, to gain a better understanding of the dead. ‘Live’ specimens, humans that have died and turned due to natural causes and not the bite, have been collected to see how they differ from the bitten, if at all. Both varieties have been injected and exposed to every virus and bacteria the Army medical staff has been able to get their hands on in the hopes that one wo
uld help them in the fight against the dead, preferably something humanity has an immunity to, or in the very least a vaccine.
Nothing has worked, not a bug has been attempted that so much as slowed the already slow threats. Without a working circulatory system, even if something could be found that kills the virus in a petri dish, it wouldn’t be moved through a corpse’s body to do much good.
An obvious suicide, her wrists cut so deeply her bones are visible where the wounds have shriveled and separated, Subject: Mary reaches for the man in the white lab coat. Most of the guinea pigs have been given alpha numerical designations for identification, this one came with a name already, at least a name tag.
The test subjects have not been fed since their capture, the prolonged starvation and proximity to the tantalizing meat they crave has made them noticeably faster, they reach out with what can only be described as desperate determination. The dead lunge and stretch against their restraints, constantly pound against the windows that separate them from their desired meals that observe them. They are teased by the living that come within an arm’s length of them yet are always just out of range.
Mary’s examination concluded, she is being escorted back to her peers. The procedure is always the same, one soldier draws the others to one side of the room by tapping on the window as far from the door as possible while two others carefully insert the test subject. Removing a specific one from the lot is far more complicated and requires more hands to perform.
“Let’s get her home,” the researcher says to the handlers as he rubs his tired eyes. He heads to the bathroom as per his routine to wash his hands thoroughly though he hasn’t touched the deceased. “Sorry about the concert. Hopefully you guys can catch some of the show.”
Wanting to have some time off, time to see a concert and pretend life is normal, does not make the soldiers reckless in the slightest. Though they badly wish to see Kelly Peel, they know they can always catch her next time, and won’t jeopardize their lives on something so trivial.
Like always the dead in the room are on the side farthest from the door, pressing against the glass, shoving each other aside. They never seem to learn the barrier between them and their dinner is always present and their efforts are wasted. The door to the room is open, just as Mary is about to be shoved in the ward’s double doors are slammed open.
“There’s trouble at the Mess Hall!” a sentry reports. “They’re calling for as many hands as possible!”
The distraction is all the upper hand Mary needs, though she needed only to be allowed an inch closer to one of her handlers. She gets a hold of him and pulls him near. He reacts, forcing her away. The soldier on her other flank tries to help his partner only to become the dead girl’s next target. Her teeth come within a breath of his face as she redirects her bites in his direction. The others specimens are drawn to the commotion, they head for the door. The soldier in charge of keeping them occupied has failed, he rushes to the door to close it before the dead can make it out.
His hand is on the knob, they might be faster now, but thankfully he proves more quick on his feet. A lack of communication in a split second is all it takes for an accident to happen, Mary’s handlers have regained control over her and force her into the room, they don’t see their friend at the door until it’s too late and the corpse is sent into him.
He screams. Mary is able to eat at last. They fall to the floor together, barring the door’s closure. The occupants are allowed to exit and get their hands on the other two as they aid their friend.
After several scrubs of his hands, the researcher makes his way back, expecting his subject to be put away and the soldiers waiting to be sent home. Through a few doors and from down the short hall that extends to the restroom he hears some noise, raised voices. He thinks nothing of it since the Army men always seem to shout, especially when they need to instruct one another. What he sees when he emerges back onto the unit is a nightmare, the men are on the floor, the dead are out of the room standing between him and the exit.
Their food has gone still and silent, the dead rise wanting something fresher. The researcher tears his eyes from the faces of the dead and the horrible scene on the floor to find a way out. The zombies are closing in on him, he can’t make it to the unit’s main entrance, but he can get to an emergency exit. Bolting to the glass door, he rams his shoulder into the red lever that opens it in the event of fires and other such disasters. Fresh air hits him as the door’s alarm begins to sound. He has to find help, alert the soldiers that the dead have escaped containment somehow, in his rush he doesn’t notice the escape door hasn’t reclosed itself, it remains open as to allow those needing to exit a free path. The dead are given the ability to roam free.
19
The red cloud is thinning, Susan can feel a draft of fresh air cutting into the hall. Someone has the doors open. Though a soldier calls in to them, those further away from the exit fear moving, not sure of what may lurk between them and the way out.
Susan can see shadows of legs from her place under the table, they appear and disappear like ghosts in the fog. She has no idea if they belong to the dead or the living, she is too afraid to risk it. It may also be the one with the gun, startling him or her may result in getting shot. She stays put and waits. She remains quiet and hopes that her boys are all right.
####
“God damn Bri,” the bitten girl complains, “Too scared to fuck him by herself, had to have me with her…I knew I was going to catch something.”
The boys are silent as they tend to her wounds, placing towels against the hemorrhaging gashes and just listening to her vent. Hippo has discovered in himself the male fascination with breasts, being so close to a perfectly augmented pair. He finds he can’t look away, liking these much better than the swaying pair he saw in the hall that reminded him of a pair of novelty glasses he once won at the pizza arcade. These breasts are made even better when covered by a bikini that the girl found. The garment is a little too small for her. The triangles of fabric hardly conceal her large endowments, pressing them into the generous globes the youngest boy has become lost in. The woman wanted something for modesty, but didn’t want to aggravate her wounds, the string straps actually help hold the towels in place without chaffing. Her mesmerizing form takes his attention away from what he considers a rather plain face, not ugly, just not on par with the rest of her. Good thing she was born with those, I guess, he thinks to himself
Killian, on the other hand, uses all the will power he can muster not to stare as he tries to make her comfortable. He was nearly hyperventilating when he helped her into her bikini and while helping her clean the blood off herself. He is embarrassed for the fact his body is reacting to his proximity to her, though perfectly natural he feels it out of place.
“Hey, kid! You mind not staring at my tits?” she says suddenly.
“I-I wasn’t!” Killian nervously blurts.
“Not you. The other one,” she clarifies with a dismissive wave to send the youngster away.
The awe inspiring sight of her body had brightened his mood, rebuked, the boy sulks off. The small space offers little else to stand by, he figures he can sit or lay on the makeshift bed of clothes.
“Bri was so star struck by him,” the girl laments further. “She always had a crush on that asshole.”
“Didn’t you know he was married?” Hippo asks from the mound of garments. He knows the answer, he just wants to share his refreshed poor mood.
She ignores the boy’s comment, about to go on with her gripes. As she takes a breath to speak his words halt her. “It smells weird over here.”
She sighs and remains silent. Killian hovers near her, not sure what else he can do to help. Hippo picks up a curious item, a bag of assorted pills that he holds up and after a brief inspection asks, “Jeez! What’s wrong with you?”
“That isn’t medicine,” the girl turns to explain. “Sometimes people take pills as a way to escape reality.”
“I know
what drugs are,” he informs her. “I asked ‘what’s wrong with you’.”
A frustrated sigh, more of a huff. “I can’t believe my horrible luck, roped into a threesome with that man, bitten, losing my best friend, and now I’m trapped with this judgmental child.”
“Don’t blame me ‘cause you’re gonna be a zombie,” Hippo retorts.
The girl, Jessica, begins to cry. She latches onto the first source of comfort she can find, Killian. The girl buries her face in his stomach and weeps. He holds his breath as he strokes her hair, too in the moment to try and control his body’s natural response. She feels it against her chest, an all too familiar swelling.
She releases him and pushes him away. “Eww... I hate my life.”
Each in their own solitude, the small room becomes very quiet. Killian recovers from his embarrassment by the door, it hadn’t dawned on him until his brother mentioned the Z-word that the girl’s fate is sealed. According to Murphy she has but hours until she is one of them. He searches the room with his eyes in hopes of spotting some form of weapon to use when it happens. There’s an absence of sound in the hall he notices, Randy Russell is no longer there. They may be able to leave the room.
20
It’s not unusual to see Randy Russell staggering around the base, given the man’s affinity for alcohol, or any other substance he is able to find, it has become a common sight.
“Oh, there he is again,” a woman says squeezing her husband’s arm on their way to the restrooms. They had come to watch the show and are getting more than they bargained for. The British comedian is stark naked just down the hall, slowly heading their way.
Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End Page 20
