by Dean James
Lexi’s head swiveled back and forth between me and Abby. Her mouth open, eyes wide with shock. Her jaw quivered, eyes still filling with her seemingly unending tears, until she finally gave in and cried the most heart wrenching cries I had ever heard. The horrible night she was forced to endure came rushing out of her. She held her sister fast, rocking in their seats.
“It’s okay. Let it out,” Abby pulled her close again, resting the teens head on her shoulder. She stroked her hair and spoke gently to her in a way only a loving mother can. “Let it all out.” And that’s what Lexi did. We sat on the side of the road, letting the girls cry all the tears they needed to, and more.
When the torrent of sadness seemed to abate for a time, I knelt down next to them, looking eye to eye with Jane. “Beep.” I pinched her little nose. The slightest evidence of a smile cracked across her lips. I beeped her nose again, and was rewarded with an actual smile on the second go around. One more time and she laughed. The corners of Lexi’s lips turned slightly upward in a smile so hidden it would make the Mona Lisa proud.
“You’re safe here with us,” Abby said. “I don’t know if there is anywhere you want to go, but we’d love to have you if you want to come along.”
“But we don’t even know who you guys are or where you’re going,” she said.
“Me? I’m Batman! Couldn’t you tell?” I said, winking at her as I stood. “We’re heading to the Bat Cave to wait all this out.”
“You’re a little crazy, aren’t you mister?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Abby replied.
“We don’t want to be a bother to you guys, but we really have nowhere else to go,” Lexi said. “Our farm was close to town, and I don’t want to go back there. We don’t have any more family around either.”
“It’s no bother,” I said. “We’re happy to have you along. Katie would love to have someone her own age around to play with. Though I don’t know how crazy I am about being trapped in an estrogen heavy car. I’m outnumbered!”
“You can always walk. It is my car after all,” Abby said smiling at Lexi. “What do you think, should we keep him?”
“Hmm, I guess so. For now anyway,” Lexi said smiling back.
“Awesome, two smart asses. This should make for a fun trip,” I said rolling my eyes. “You know, I don’t have to feed you.”
“Yes you do,” she said.
“And why is that?” I asked sarcastically.
“You stole all this stuff from my town.”
“Which makes it mine now,” I said triumphantly.
“You leave her alone, I like her,” Abby came to Lexi’s defense.
“She started it,” I replied.
“Did not!” she shot back.
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Are you two going to be like this the whole trip?” Abby sighed.
“Maybe,” we both replied.
“Well, could you two lovely ladies maybe make some sandwiches while I reload? I don’t want to get caught off guard again. I was careless. I can’t let that happen again. We check everything next time we stop,” I said. “Speaking of being careful, I hate to have to ask this, Lexi. I saw you limping, how did you get hurt. Were you bit?”
“Dan!” Abby’s stare bored holes through me.
“I know Abby, but I have to ask.”
“It’s okay Mrs. Foster, I understand. It makes sense to check. I fell when we were running from the church. I’m alright. My ankle just hurts a little.”
I couldn’t contain myself as I turned and walked away laughing. Lexi looked perplexed at my reaction.
“Don’t call me Mrs. Foster!” Abby gasped. “I’m not that old!”
“I’m sorry Mrs.-err Abby. You’re an adult, I want to be respectful,” Lexi said blushing.
“You’re more adult than that giggling idiot over there,” Abby said nodding her head in my direction.
“Hey!” I said sharply.
“You know how Batman over there spends his evenings? He plays video games and watches cartoons all night.”
“Anime!” I defended myself. “It’s anime, it’s an art form. Which is more than I can say about your reality shows. When society rebuilds, what’s coming back, artwork flowing across the screen, or anything named Kardashian?”
“He gets so touchy doesn’t he?” Abby laughed.
“I do not!” I said stamping my foot like a child to the laughter of everyone watching.
“We better get him a PB&J before he throws a bigger tantrum,” Abby said reaching for the bread.
“I knew you loved me,” I said with a wink.
Chapter Eighteen
The liquor burned as Jim emptied another bottle down his parched throat. His stomach warmed as the top shelf booze filled his belly. His head felt heavy, body numbed from a morning of over indulgence of whiskey he could have never afforded before. He threw the empty bottle against the wall, shattering it into tiny jagged shards on an old wagon wheel hung to add to the saloon decor.
Jim laughed as he rifled through the collection of liquor on the oaken shelves behind the bar. For years he was told that whiskey would be wasted on a drunk like him. But now he was free, left alone to do as he pleased without worry of being shamed and ridiculed. Right then, he wanted everything he was denied before the dead had turned the world upside down.
Grabbing a bottle of single malt scotch, he threw his head back as he drank deeply. Settling back down on his favorite stool, he stared at the church through a large tinted window. His dulled mind bounced back and forth between the joy of indulgence, and the distant ache of losing his children.
“Guess ole Jim ain’t worth much until your friends start taking bits out of your asses!” his anger directed at the church. He snorted and went back to his bottle, trying again to quench a thirst that could never be sated. “Help us! Help us! Ahhhhh!” he laughed as he mocked the dying cries of the people he had doomed.
Through his drunken haze, he watched through the bar windows as small hands emerged from between the church’s double doors. They reached at the chain looped around the handles until finally retreating back into the darkness in defeat. It was something that he had watched several times that morning, long after the screaming had stopped.
“You ain’t breaking those chains! You can keep tryin, but you ain’t getting out!” Jim raged before taking another long drink.
His heavy head hung down, dropping to the cool wood of the bar he had spent so many of his nights bellying up to. His eyelids began to betray him as they forced their way closed. The last few hours were catching up with him, and he felt unconsciousness creeping up on him.
“Just a few minutes. Close my eyes for just a few minutes. I gotta go find them kids. They think I didn’t seem em, but I did. Can’t let them get away. Don’t need them to go blabbing to anyone. Just two more problems to take care of before…”
His thoughts trailed off as he snored away.
**********
Jim sat straight up in his chair as the crack of gunfire echoed through the streets. A wave of confusion washed over him. He thought he heard shouting, but he couldn’t be sure as more gunfire echoed through the town.
His skin tingled with fear as he watched people he once knew shuffle out from the broken church doors. He heard another blast, and the woman he knew as Penny had her face stripped away. She fell backwards, her brains spilling to the ground. Jim vomited at the sight, heaving huge amounts of bile across the floor.
He heard a car door slam and an engine rev. He rushed to the window, catching sight of a tan SUV. It skidded sideways, battling its way through several of the creatures before driving away.
“Damn it, wait for me!” he slurred.
He was elated when he heard the car screech to a stop again. His joy ended when he saw two kids pop out from behind the barber shop. A man in tight sweat pants and a hunting jacket jumped from the car, firing a rifle into the pack of creatures until the kids were safely insid
e. They were gone before he could take a step towards the door.
“No! Wait!” he called out. Through the tinted glass, Jim saw several heads turn towards him. Dozens of otherworldly white eyes peered into the bar, looking for the source of the voice. Looking for him.
He grabbed his pistol, intent on fighting his way through the herd of walking corpses to his truck. His first step sent him spiraling to the floor, slipping on his own vomit. Blood erupted from his nostrils as his nose crunched on the hardwood floor. He crashed into tables and chairs trying to get back on his feet. Pain induced tears clouded his vision causing him to stumble over unseen obstacles as he made his way to the front door.
He launched himself forward, banging his forehead on the door before his hands found the brass doorknobs. He leaned against the door, using his sweat stained shirt to wipe the tears from his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, wishing he had just one more drink. He flung the door open, ready to fight.
He froze, dropping his pistol to the floor.
“Boys?”
His knees buckled, dropping him to the floor at the sight of his two dead children. They emitted a guttural hiss when their clouded eyes locked onto their father. Foamy spittle dripped from their mouths as they pushed their way into the bar. He kicked his way across the floor and away from the creatures advancing into the bar and towards the new source of warm meat. The room filled with mournful moans and growls, drowning out Jim’s panicked grunts.
Jim slid through his own vomit again until he found himself under a table against the back wall. Dead beings continued to file into the room, sliding their feet as they shuffled closer to Jim’s trembling form. His own sons drew closer, their lips pulled back in an angry snarl. They growled like pack animals closing in on a kill.
“Andy? Patrick? It’s me! It’s your dad!”
The two showed no more remorse for him than Jim did when he left them to die in the church. Their faces were filled only with hunger. Andy’s foot slipped on the wet floor, sending him crashing downward. Andy remained undeterred as he pulled himself closer toward his meal. Jim tried to push his eldest son away, but his depth perception was still affected by the hours of inebriation.
Jim screamed as the bones in his fingers crunched inside his dead son’s mouth. Jim pulled his mostly fingerless hand back and kicked his dead son away from him. Patrick dropped to his knees, grabbing Jim’s foot and sinking his teeth into the soft fleshy ankle. His pleas became wails of pain as his youngest son tore away a long strip of fibrous muscle. Andy dug his fingers into the open tear in Jim’s ankle, tearing upwards into the calf muscle before rending a chunk of bright red flesh away. Andy shoved the meat into his mouth, blood trickling down his ashen chin.
Jim punched and kicked, trying to escape from his tormentors. He begged for mercy from a God who would not hear his cries. His painful pleas were instead met with more townspeople coming to exact their literal pound of flesh.
His cries finally went silent when one of the gathering dead bit down on his windpipe. Blood poured into Jim’s lungs as his throat was torn from his body. Eyes widened in terror as he watched a set of teeth tear the flesh from his cheekbone.
Eventually the number of creatures on him grew to the point that he could see nothing else but dead faces and those terrible unfeeling white eyes. Fingers dug deep into his soft flesh, bones snapped as his extremities were broken away. His body became a symphony of pain as clawed hands and teeth ripped at every inch of flesh.
His life ebbed away as he died in the bar he had spent every night in for so many years. It did not take long before the only thing left of Jim was a puddle of blood, a pile of bones, and the sound of ghouls chewing on his remains.
Chapter Nineteen
We ate our lunch quickly and got back on the road. From what I had seen from the creatures, I was fairly confident that they would not win any sprinting contests. We had escaped the zombie herd at high speed, so I didn’t expect them to catch up with us. If we were very lucky, they had lost interest in us and decided to chase down a cat or something. But I didn’t want to rely on luck, and we had spent quite a bit of time consoling our new guests.
The car was quiet. It had been a couple hours since we were escorted out of town by the local populace. Katie and Jane got along well enough, but I believed it would be some time before Jane was up to playing like a normal kid again. Katie tried to talk about school and friends, but Jane didn’t give much more than one word answers. Eventually they both gave up and fell asleep.
Abby spent her time comforting Lexi until they both fell asleep too. Though we had brought a smile to her lips during our earlier stop, the fact remained that she had survived horrors that would break just about anyone. Even in her sleep, her tears continued to flow. She jumped and whimpered, occasionally kicking the back of my seat. I did not envy the nightmares she would likely have for many years to come.
I kept a close watch on the time as I anxiously awaited the next news broadcast. In the short time we had been on the road that news station had become a near obsession. I couldn’t wait to her something besides the brain scrambling static that occupied all the other stations. It took about an hour of listening to dead air before the urge to drive a sharpened pencil through my own ear drums forced me to turn the radio off.
I turned the radio on five minutes before their scheduled broadcast, keeping the volume low enough to as not to disturb the sleeping girls. I did not have to wait long.
“Ladies and gentleman, I would like to wish you a good afternoon. But I don’t believe anyone alive enough to hear my voice is having a good afternoon. The scene here is like a different world. In the hours since our last broadcast, the streets have calmed. If people are still here, they are not venturing outside. Whenever someone tries to escape, a mass of the creatures soon follows. Those lucky enough to have a vehicle have a better chance. We have not seen anyone on foot live more than a few minutes once they are on the street.
The dead are everywhere now. They seem to wander aimlessly, until some sound or sight draws their attention. A door slam, a car engine, even a random animal can evoke an attack. If you can stay where you are, please do so. It is far too dangerous to venture out.
Of course, if anyone is brave enough to still do pizza deliveries, we’ll take a very large sausage and green pepper up here.”
“Make that two,” I laughed. Maybe it was because his voice was the last connection I felt with the real world. It could be that he was a natural smart ass, something I can genuinely appreciate. Or maybe it was just the fact that we liked the same pizza. No matter the reason, I found myself liking this man.
“This morning we received an update from the CDC. They believe they have discovered what may be behind this disease, and how we lost the fight against it so quickly.
Scientists at the CDC have discovered a substance similar to the parasitic fungus responsible for the “zombie ant” present in all of the infected. The zombie ant is a normal ant of mostly jungle regions that is infected by one of several types of parasitic fungi known to exist. The fungus then takes control of the ant’s brain, forcing it to relocate itself to a place that allows the fungus to reproduce.
Like the zombie ant, the fungal agent found in the infected appears to kills its host. Unlike the ant however, this particular fungus forces the corpse to continue to move and seek out sources of protein.
Initially the contagion was mistaken for the common cold or the flu. It transferred like a virus, through sneezing, coughing, and contact with contaminated surfaces. Victims suffered fevers, vomiting, chills, headaches, and other flu-like symptoms. Even the rapid influenza test would return with a positive result for the flu in most cases. It is now known that the very recent spike in reported influenza outbreaks and fever related deaths were a result of this fungus. Only a spinal tap would have revealed the presence of this fungal growth, however there was never a reason to perform such an invasive procedure on people exhibiting symptoms that presented as the simple flu.
Most of those who were infected survived. The fungus went dormant in the body and the victim appeared to return to full health. Those who died as a result of the fever did not immediately reanimate. However, the fungus inside the deceased did not go to into stasis as it did with those who survived the fever. Instead it grew, feeding on the brain and nervous system.
Scientists at the CDC have found that when infected brain tissue is exposed to open air, as in the case of an autopsy, it begins to break down and release spores. They speculate that in the beginning this process took several days, and went largely unnoticed.
These spores reacted with the dormant fungus of those who were previously infected but survived. Those people were just time bombs waiting for the second part of the infection, the trigger spore if you will. When the dormant fungus came into contact with the released airborne spores, the reaction killed the victim within minutes. Those victims reanimated almost immediately. Those were the first of the dead to walk.
Everything snowballed from there. As anyone alive now is aware, the only way known to kill a ghoul is to destroy the brain. But the second that the brain tissue from any reanimated corpse touches the air, it dissolves into a viscous fluid, releasing fully matured spores into the atmosphere. If these matured spores come into contact with a dead body, it will reanimate that body regardless of prior infection unless the corpse has been embalmed or the brain has been damaged in any way. Those who were in contact at the moment the brain dissolves have reported headaches, nausea, temporary blindness, dizziness, and skin irritation.
According to the CDC, one ghoul brain contains a massive volume of infectious spores. It is unknown how long the spores will stay airborne. What is known is the spores have spread across the globe. It is believed that everyone who survived the initial fever has already died and come back as one of the undead.
