by Dean James
Fear can be a great motivator. Or it can stain underwear. I’m not sure which category I fell in at that moment, but it would be fair to say I probably needed a change of clothes.
I grabbed shoes and jackets from the coat rack at the base of the stairs, remembering to shove my cell phone into a random coat pocket. Taking the steps two at a time, I bounded up towards the bedrooms. I glanced down in time to watch the monster stumble and fall on my daughter’s foot eating triceratops. She went down face first, her teeth cracking on the hard wood floor.
“Ha!” I taunted in spite of the tumbling in my gut. It was satisfying to know that even monsters could succumb to the toys of terror. For once I’d have to thank Katie for not putting her playthings away.
My foot caught on the top step as I continued my escape, sending me toppling forward onto my own face. Jackets and shoes went flying across the newly carpeted hallway.
As an avid fan of horror films, I really should have seen the fall coming, especially after mocking the Beth thing for falling flat on her face. It was almost inevitable that I would trip over a step that I had crossed over thousands of times before. Murphy has a law though, and Murphy is an asshole.
The sound of footsteps resonating from the floor below helped me forget the painful throbbing in my nose. I started collecting what I had dropped, tossing everything through the open bedroom door at the end of the hall.
I ran inside the room, slamming the door behind me. I decided to lock the door for good measure. If the thing coming up the stairs could figure out a sliding glass door, a simple door knob probably wouldn’t be that much of a deterrent. I just hoped Beth never learned how to pick locks. I pushed my waist high dresser in front of the door, counting on the added weight to buy us a few more minutes. It wouldn’t keep a determined person, or thing, out of my room for long though.
Abby stood next to the bed, clutching a barely awake little girl in her arms. They were bathed in the dim light of a reading lamp. Her shoulder length dark hair that normally framed her fair skinned face now suffered from an acute case of bed head. In the short time since we had our exchange she had changed from her loose fitting nightgown into her blue jeans, and a tight black turtle neck sweater which accented her generous features.
Katie still wore her favorite footie pajamas. She had fallen in love with the them the second she saw the many cupcake prints adorning the green flannel. Her light brown hair was tied into a rats nest on top of her head in a similar fashion as her mother’s. Tears rolled from her brown eyes, wetting her rosy cheeks.
“What the hell is going on?” Abby demanded.
“I don’t know. But we have to go, we’re not safe here.”
Confusion spread across her face as she held our weeping daughter tight. I went to her, taking her face gently in my hands looking into her brown eyes.
“Look,” I said in as calm and caring a voice as I could. “I don’t know what’s happening. All hell’s breaking loose outside and there’s nothing on TV to explain it. Something is in the house. Something that looks very dangerous. It was right behind me so I don’t think we have much time. We need to go, right now!”
Nodding slowly as if processing everything I said, she placed our daughter on the bed and slipped Katie’s shoes on over her footie PJs before moving on to her own.
A cursory glance around my room informed me that I would be making my great escape sans pants, as I had not yet retrieved my laundry from the dryer downstairs. To make matters worse, I noticed that in my haste I had managed to nab one running shoe and one dress shoe.
“Peachy,” I said sarcastically. “At least I have a left and a right.”
“We can get out through the windows onto the roof,” Abby said while securing Katie’s coat. She slipped her own coat on before tossing mine over to me.
“That’s what I was thinking too. See, great minds and all,” I said smiling at her. “We can make our way to John’s old place and use his windows to get back in.”
“Why two doors down?” she asked. “Why not right next door?”
“John’s is abandoned now. No one is in there to shoot us when we come in. With what’s happening out there, I don’t think we should take anything for granted.”
“What the hell is going on?”
A sudden and heavy slam against the door cut me off before I could answer. The hollow core door cracked as it bowed inward as Beth pushed against it. With a pop, a hand broke through the cheap laminate. The hand flailed around, grasping at anything it could reach. After a few moments, it withdrew from the hole, and the room grew silent.
I waited, expecting the next assault to begin any second. When nothing happened, I looked over at Abby, who wore the same look of shock that must have been on my own face. She shrugged, shaking her head. I wasn’t certain, but it looked like she was holding her breath. Even Katie, who had fully awakened, sat in stunned silence.
I crouched down, peering through the hole Beth had made. A pair of milky white eyes stared back at me from the darkness. A deep predatory growl emerged from the other side of the door as soon as our eyes met. She lunged at the door face first, the wood slicing deep gouges into her already mangled face as she pushed her head through the hole.
“Beth?” Abby asked in disbelief.
The Beth thing snapped its head towards Abby. The terrible shrill sound she emitted was unlike anything I had heard before from human or animal. She grew wild at the sight of the two of them. Its broken teeth clacked as its jaws snapped at them. Fingernails or jagged bone, I didn’t care to figure out which, dragged across the other side of the door.
“Mommy!” Katie shrieked. Abby was knocked back as Katie leapt into her mother’s arms. She shook so violently it made Abby tremble. She buried her face in Abby’s chest, screaming in unbridled terror.
Thought of escape dissolved as paternal instinct took over. I had never seen my little girl so terrified. Neighbor or not, whatever this woman had become would pay dearly for my daughter’s fright.
I went to the side of the bed, flipping a heavy nightstand onto its side. With a stomp, I relieved the table of one of its four legs. It was a two foot long, three inch by three inch square block on the top, tapering to a comfortable grip on the bottom. It was just wide enough to wrap my hand around with a firm grip. A perfect four cornered club. It was a much more suitable weapon than the Hello Kitty umbrella of terror.
I swallowed my own fear and walked over to the biting head sticking through my door. The closer I got the more frantic she grew until I thought she may actually push herself completely through.
Everything happened in slow motion. Clouded eyes followed my hand as I wound up, swinging my club like I was batting for the outfield. The heavy table leg connected with the side of her head with bone splintering force. The shock of the blow sent pain shooting through my right hand. Beth’s face distorted as her jaw shattered under the blow, spraying blood and sending chips of broken teeth flying.
If she registered pain, she didn’t show it. Broken bones snapped as she worked her shattered jaws. Her tongue flicked in and out between pulverized teeth. The animalistic growls had become gurgles as thickened blood poured from her mouth.
I brought my weapon down in a flurry of frantic blows upon her head. The top of Beth’s scalp split and stripped away from the bone. Cracks spider webbed across the exposed bone like a shattered egg shell, until grayish brain matter began to squeeze through the jagged cracks. One final blow sent wood through the bone, splattering brain outward like rotten ground beef.
Her body slumped, and the woman who was once my neighbor stopped moving. Silence hung thick in the room, broken only by the sound of my heavy breathing. My hands were sticky with rapidly drying blood. Abby held Katie tight, shielding her eyes from the horror.
That’s when the smell hit me. It was like a sour milk and ripened meat sundae with rotten egg topping, served with a side of ammonia.
Let that roll around in your imagination for a while.
&
nbsp; My stomach emptied itself. My shoes took the bulk of the vomited remains of that night’s dinner, meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Believe me, it tasted much better going down.
Between the retching, my attention was drawn to the groan of my stairs once again. I held my breath and peered through the opening above the crushed remains of my former neighbor. A human shadow cast from the fiery orange light outside swayed back and forth as it climbed. My eyes watered, suddenly feeling very irritated as I tried to make out what else had invaded my home.
“Probably smoke,” I reasoned.
I wiped away the irritant with my shirt, and looked again. Through watery eyes, I saw the face of Beth’s teenaged son slowly ascending. His steps were slow and deliberate. His eyes clouded with the same paleness his mother had. The front of his throat had been torn out. Ribbons of skin and muscle swayed as he moved, drenching his white t-shirt with thick blood.
He held what I could only guess were the remains of his mother’s arm in his grasp. Small bits of meat still clung to the splintered bone. He bit down hungrily on the fleshy scraps, his gaze never leaving the door. His lips smacked as his teeth worked the raw meat. He swallowed, the chewed flesh falling through the opening in his throat.
“I will never eat a drumstick again,” I said, backing away and looking at Abby. My stomach felt ready for a new round of vomiting.
“What are you talking about?” she asked less than amused.
“Don’t ask. Trust me, the less you know the better.”
“Can we just leave now? Please!?” she wasn’t really asking. She was close to tears, her face awash in fear and frustration.
“Mommy, I want to leave too!” Katie sobbed.
A heavy crash thundered throughout the house. I had dropped enough equipment in my line of work to have an idea what it was. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I knew my beloved TV had just met its demise. It also meant more neighbors were coming to visit. My house was getting a bit too crowded for my comfort level, and I wagered not a single one of them had the decency to bring any cold beer.
Grimy fingers reached through the hole, snapping away strips of wood. His face appeared as the opening widened. Lifeless features became desperate need when he saw us. His arm shot through the door, swiping his clawed hand through the air in our direction. He pushed harder on the door, indifferent to the fact that he was crawling over his mother’s shattered corpse.
“I guess family doesn’t mean much to zombies,” I said more to myself than anyone else.
That’s when the rust fell away from the gears in my head. I verbalized without thinking what my mind hadn’t wrapped itself around yet. I just killed a zombie. That zombie’s teenaged son is also a zombie, and it’s trying to get into my room to do what zombies do. Feed.
Along with being an avid horror fan, I had a true fascination with zombie fiction. I read every novel and caught every movie, good or bad, that I could get my hands on. I was quickly discovering the real thing was not as much fun as it was in stories.
It didn’t smell all that great either.
I clubbed at its arm until the bone was all but pulverized. It pulled its arm back through the hole and pushed its head through the door. Putting my hand on the top of the table leg, I drove the tapered end like a spear upwards into its left eye and straight into its brain pan.
Movement ceased instantly, its head coming to rest in the crushed brain cavity of its mother in life. The grisly scene in front of me did not stop the small lump in my throat from forming. These were my neighbors, and they were good people. And I killed them.
Without a word I went back to the table, breaking off two more of the heavy legs and tucking them under my arms.
“Let’s go.”
My eyes watered again, but smoke wasn’t responsible for it this time.
Chapter Three
We went to the window, which was already wide open. (I still don’t get it.) After quietly tearing a hole through the screen, we started our climb onto the frozen roof. The shingles crunched under my shoes as the cold winter air slapped against my bare legs.
The smell of acrid smoke carried on the breeze. It mixed with the sickening odor of death that blanketed the crisp night air. Screams came from all directions, inside homes and on the streets. There was so much gunfire it felt as if we had stepped out of our home and into a war movie.
Carefully leaning over the edge of my porch roof, I peeked into my yard. A mass of the things wandered my snow covered lawn, slowly making their way to my house. The number of crashes coming from the downstairs put the number of things already in my house somewhere between an ass load and a shit ton. Yes, those are official units of measurement in the Foster clan.
“Oh God!” Abby whispered, her hand cupped over her mouth as she stared out into our yard.
“We should probably leave this party,” I said reaching for Katie.
“Yeah, did you happen to grab my car keys?”
My eyes opened wide as I froze, hope for a quick escape vanishing at her words. We both frantically searched through our coat pockets. Her CRV was parked in the lot in front of our house, and would be a short run once we got down to ground level. Without keys though, it may as well be twenty miles away. We both exhaled a sigh of relief when we heard the gentle jingle of her keys in her coat pocket.
The bedroom door came under assault again, causing Abby to jump as she stepped down on the icy roof. I watched in terror as she lost her footing and slid towards the edge. My instincts screamed to grab her arm and stop her momentum. Helping her meant dropping Katie and potentially losing them both. I watched helplessly as she drifted closer to the edge of the frozen roof.
Her foot found purchase on the rough surface of a dry shingle. It was honestly a very short slide, but to me it lasted forever. She could have survived the ten foot drop to the yard, but she would have been torn apart by the living dead. I was only partially relieved though. I wouldn’t completely unpucker until my family was out of trouble.
Abby’s slip and fall did not go unnoticed. She had drawn the attention of the horde that once shambled lazily around the yard. They suddenly recognized a three piece meal directly over their heads. They moved en masse underneath the roof ledge. Arms extended upwards, excitedly moaning as they pressed into each other waiting for food to literally drop into their mouths.
Abby made it back to her feet, this time carefully avoiding the icy patches on the shingles. We slowly moved along the frozen roof, steering clear of the ledges. The cold winter wind sliced like a knife across my legs. With every movement I feared that my numbing extremities would not allow me to keep a grip on my daughter.
I always hated the idea of living in connected town homes. Although it was all we could afford at the time, the thought of being close enough to my neighbor to hear them fart in their shower did not make an ideal living space. It was ironic that the very style of housing I had come to loathe made our escape possible. If we had to jump from roof to roof in the numbing cold, this would be a very short story.
I stepped up onto to my neighbor’s roof, mindful of the ice and light snow on the slight six inch rise. Abby followed close behind, guiding herself along with her hand on the building. The throng below, not wanting to lose their midnight snacks, followed along until they crushed themselves against the tall wooden fence. The wood creaked under the weight of so many bodies.
The sound of glass crashing behind us sent my heart racing even faster than before. The ghouls had pushed their way through the flimsy barricade in our bedroom and followed us out onto the roof. A creature launched itself through the open window, hitting the same ice patch Abby had found. Fortunately for us, it did not appear to have Abby’s luck. It went sliding off the roof, crushing a few of its brethren as it hit the ground. The gap filled quickly with others stepping up and over their fallen comrades.
“Dan, they’re coming!” Abby said frantically.
“How many?”
“Just go!” Abby screamed.
My decision was solidified when I saw the bedroom window. The lights were off, allowing scant visibility into the inky darkness. A crimson handprint was smeared across the middle of the glass. Streaks of red dripped down the glass, pooling on the sill below. Whatever had happened in there happened recently. A sinking feeling told me there were horrors beyond the veil of dark that I did not want to bear witness to.
I looked back at Abby, putting my finger to my lips and motioning for silence as I pointed towards the darkened room. The cold fear in her eyes betrayed the scream she was trying to hold inside.
I didn’t blame her one bit.
We moved past the windows, relieved that nothing inside saw us. A thump and slide behind us announced another of our pursuers had fallen from the roof. I didn’t look back. Abby’s hand on my back let me know she was still with me, so I focused on moving forward.
We were forced to quicken our pace even more. Our pursuers had no fear of falling to their deaths, no real reason to take care with their steps. They chased with reckless abandon that we could not match without the threat of falling. It was a one sided race, with us on the losing side.
The undead were closing fast by the time we made it to the empty house. The lights had been left on by the realty company to give the place a lived in illusion. I looked through the window and found the bedroom clear of monsters, along with everything else as the former owners had taken everything with them. That included the toilets and every sink in the house.
“Katie, I need you to go to mommy,” I said, shifting her towards Abby. She leapt to her mother’s arms.
