Dia of the Dead

by Brinson, Brit

  “I’m not leaving this room,” Reagan said. “The zombies are out there and not in here so I vote we stay put. Why risk ending up like the others if we don’t have to?”

  “They’re not in here…yet,” I said. “If we stay, we still run the risk of ending up like the others. What if the current zombie count doubles or triples while we’re in here? We’ll never make it out then.”

  “Do we even know what the zombie count is now?” Kaci asked. “We’ve honestly only seen a few.”

  “We’ve only seen a few but there’s always the possibility of more. Have you guys noticed how quick the turnaround time is now? It took Amber a while to change and now it seems like those who are attacked are changing in the next instant.”

  “But how?” Brendan asked, running his hands through his dark hair as he paced back and forth. His face grew redder and redder as he walked.

  “Yesterday, everything was okay. Our friends were still people, partying and having fun. Today everything’s gone to shit. Dammit!” He punched the wall once, then again, looking around the room with wild eyes, huffing and puffing.

  I took a step away from him, feeling a little uneasy about his outburst.

  “Cat’s out of the bag, Teen Hulk. Your little girlfriend and her sidekick here know about your rage issues now,” Reagan smirked.

  Brendan shot her a dangerous look, his chest still heaving.

  “I think we all need to take a moment to chill,” Kaci announced. “Emotions are running high. Everyone’s worked up. How about we all take five to collect ourselves? Yeah? Then we can reconvene and figure out how to get the hell outta here like rational, reasonable, non-insane people.”

  Reagan rolled her eyes but retreated to the opposite end of the room, away from Brendan. He stood by Kaci’s vanity with his eyes closed tightly, his brow furrowing and relaxing as he counted quietly to himself. He seemed to be regaining control.

  Kaci ushered me over to the area near her mini fridge.

  “What the hell was that?” I whispered to her as quietly as I could.

  “Brendan Baker’s anger issues.”

  “Anger issues?”

  “He has these fits where he gets all flustered and starts breaking things and yelling at people about nothing. One time he flipped out on an assistant over a bottle of water not being cold enough. He like smashed up his dressing room because of it. Mr. Bixby sent him to anger management and paid a crap ton of money to keep it under wraps. All to protect Brendan’s ‘boy next door’ image.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

  “I didn’t want to shatter the illusion of your crush. It sucks when you realize the person you’re crushing on isn’t as perfect as you thought they were.” Kaci paused and looked down at her feet for a moment before looking back up at me.

  “That’s what you were trying to do with Mason, right? You didn’t want to say anything to ruin my crush on him. You wanted me to see his true colors on my own, right?”

  “I—uh—um—I“ I stammered trying to come up with an answer for Kaci as she stared at me with those green eyes. I had to tell her the truth.

  “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by talking badly about him, but Mason was a sleaze.” I felt a pang of guilt in the pit of my stomach for speaking ill of the dead. Kaci’s eyes traveled down to her feet again.

  “I think everyone’s had enough time to cool down. Maybe we should get back together to think of a plan to get out of here,” I said.

  Kaci nodded, not looking at me and walked to the center of the room, motioning for everyone to come together. I joined her as did Reagan who didn’t seem to have left her attitude in time out. She still wore her snarl and her arms were folded across her chest. Brendan was the last to join us. He approached slowly, looking down at his shoes. He ran his hands through his hair again before looking up at us and exhaling. His face had begun to return to its normal color though his cheeks were still flushed.

  “I’m sorry for my behavior,” he said sheepishly. “It was out of line and I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

  “Thanks for the rehearsed apology,” Reagan said. Brendan shot her a look but remained quiet.

  “Guys. Chill,” I said, looking at the two of them.

  Brendan cleared his throat, seeming more in control. “What do you think caused all of this? It seems like once we figure that out, we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

  “I still think it was those Z pills Mason had at the party. You heard Blake. He’s been getting calls from customers about their friends acting weird after taking them. Then look at him. He said he’d been taking them for a while. He took one in front of us and next thing you know, he’s puking black gunk like everyone else,” I reminded him.

  “But what if he’s fine?”

  “I doubt it,” Reagan mumbled.

  “Maybe we should try and find him,” Brendan suggested.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kaci said, rubbing her arm.

  “I don’t either,” I added.

  “Me neither. In fact, I think that’s the dumbest idea ever.”

  “Then what do you think we should do? Huh, Reagan?” Brendan snapped, stepping closer to her.

  “I have no idea but it shouldn’t be something that’ll put us in more danger.” Reagan stood her ground.

  “We can’t stay here,” Brendan huffed.

  “No shit,” Reagan snapped back.

  Both of their faces had begun to turn red again. I stepped in between them

  “Guys. We’re in this together. While I don’t think we should go looking for Blake, we shouldn’t stay here either. Maybe we should try to get in touch with our families, see if they’re okay then get outside. I—“

  A muffled scream for help came from the hall. Without thinking, I opened the door to see what was going on.

  TEN

  The screaming from the hall was drowned out by the sound of our screams.

  A black-eyed, gray-skinned security guard—Thomas according to the nametag pinned to his uniform—stood in the doorway, reaching for us. Brendan took the katana out from my belt loop and with a few quick moves, he had it out, its blade catching and reflecting the florescent lighting. He rammed it into Thomas’ stomach with enough momentum to pierce clean through to the other side. The sword sticking out of his body didn’t stop him from trying to rip out Brendan’s throat.

  “Get out of here,” Brendan commanded as he struggled to avoid Thomas’ nails and pushed Thomas out of the room.

  The rest of us squeezed through an opening between the zombie and the door—first Reagan then me. Kaci was the last out. Reagan got through with no problem while I was bumped into the doorframe, jarring my arm. I bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep from screaming. I swallowed the sound and scurried to safety a few feet away with Reagan. Kaci screamed from behind me. I turned around to check on her and saw Thomas had snagged a lock of her hair. He jerked his arm, bringing her down to the floor on her butt. She screamed again.

  Past Brendan, who still fought to protect himself and free Kaci, was Sloane. She squatted over someone cramming handfuls of bloody innards into her mouth with the arm that wasn’t hanging on by a thread. Who the guts belonged to was a mystery. Only the lower half of the body was visible, the distance obscured their face. But they were wearing the same slate gray pants as Thomas, which meant they were part of the security team.

  I hope it isn’t Will.

  Kaci screamed and pawed at Thomas’s hand trying to untangle her hair from his unrelenting grip. Reagan ran to help, swatting at Thomas’s back while Brendan tried to remove the sword. It didn’t budge. I ran over to Kaci. She cried and squirmed on the floor, trying to free herself. I kneeled in front of her and placed my hand on her cheek.

  “Kace, I have an idea but you’re not going to like it,” I said, my voice calmer than I thought it would be.

  “W-W-what is it?” She cried.

  “Pull away from him.”

  “Bu
t my hair!”

  “Hair is hair. It’ll grow back. Is your hair more important than your life?”

  “N-n-n-no,” she wailed.

  “Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just calm down.” I wiped away one of her tears with my thumb and patted her cheek. “Give me your hand.”

  She placed a shaking hand in mine.

  “When I say ‘go’, I want you to pull away from him. Okay?”

  “O-o-okay.”

  I gripped her hand and positioned myself to pull.

  “Go!” I yelled and pulled the weight of her body. She helped, using her legs to push forward. She screeched as she separated herself from Thomas with a rip. A clump of her strawberry blonde hair dangled from his fingers. I pulled her to her feet. A fresh torrent of tears flooded Kaci’s face as she brought her hand down from her head and stared at her bloody fingertips in disbelief.

  “Kace is free!” I yelled to Brendan who was still busy with the task of not dying. Reagan stopped hitting Thomas to join us a few feet away from Brendan’s struggle.

  “Great,” he grunted. “I think I almost have it.” He wiggled the sword to loosen it from Thomas’s torso. It still didn’t move. Thomas clawed at him, his hands nearly making contact with his skin with each thrash.

  “Girls, move back,” Brendan instructed.

  I took a few steps back, bringing a weepy Kaci with me. Reagan moved back as well. Brendan let out a sound that could only be described as a battle cry. He put both of his hands on the sword’s handle and with all of his might, he rammed it in to its hilt. He kept moving forward, sending Thomas along with the sword back into the wall. The blade pierced the drywall and stuck, pinning Thomas there. Brendan ducked and dodged Thomas’s flailing limbs and rejoined the group.

  “I think she’s almost done with her snack, and it looks like she’s hungry for more.” He motioned back at Sloane who still crouched low but was no longer hovering over the body.

  She let out a wild growl and rushed toward us. We took off running down the hall toward the stairwell. I barely stayed one step ahead of her as we ran. Brendan led the pack, bursting through the doors to the stairs and we followed. I slipped through the door after Kaci, right before it swung shut. I wasn’t quick enough. Sloane caught the door in her hand and pushed it aside.

  “She’s still after us!” I yelled.

  Swear words joined labored breaths and footsteps, and we hustled up the stairs two and three at a time. Sloane didn’t let up. She was right there, growling and breathing her rot onto me. Brendan ran into the door, pressing the metal bar to get it open. It took a half second longer than expected and caused a mini pile up. Kaci and Reagan ran into his back, yelling at him to get the door open, as he pressed the bar frantically. I didn’t stop running. If I did, Sloane would have me. Brendan got the door open and the other girls stumbled into the hall. He held the door open, waving me through. I ran past him and he shut the door in Sloane’s face. The latch caught, shutting her out.

  “I should never have to work out ever again,” Kaci panted. Reagan echoed her sentiments. We paused to catch our breath. I readjusted my arm in the sling and suggested we hurry and move on. Brendan knocked over one of the metal trashcans and rolled it to the door to block it. He stepped back, examining his work.

  “This may not be enough to hold her,” he said.

  “Do we have to run anymore? I’m tiiiiiirrrreeeeddd,” Kaci complained.

  “We’re all tired but we have to keep going,” I said. “Suck it up.”

  Kaci groaned but moved along with the rest of the group. We ran quickly and quietly down the hall, each of us with our hands up—or in my case, hand up—ready to protect ourselves if we came across any more zombies. There was a thump behind us. I looked over my shoulder at where we’d left Sloane. The trashcan rattled, moving a bit from the door. Another thump. I paused, dropping my arm and turned around completely. There was another thump then another and another. With each one, the door opened a bit more until the trashcan rolled away.

  Sloane’s hand slapped the wall, leaving a bloody handprint. She dragged herself along, slithering the rest of her body out of the door and into the hallway with a low, long moan. I turned on heel and ran as fast as I could, bypassing Brendan who had slowed down to a jog.

  “What’s going on, Dia?” he asked, increasing his speed to keep up with me.

  “She got through the door.”

  Brendan turned his head and made a gurgled sound that sounded like he had choked on a scream. He turned back toward me with terror in his eyes and told everyone to run faster. We ran through the halls, past Mason who was still in his mirror. Kaci reached out for him but Reagan slapped down her arm just in time. Kaci whimpered and lowered her arm.

  I led the way with no idea where I was going. I saw an opportunity and charged the door to Hair and Makeup. We burst through it, stumbling into the midst of yet another zombie crisis. Katrina was in the middle of being attacked by Jared the hairstylist. His hands were clenched around her upper arms— lifting her plump body in the air— her feet hovering a few inches above the floor. He shook her like a ragdoll, snapping at her face and neck with his stained teeth. Even though her brown face was contorted in fear, she wiggled, keeping him from biting her cheek.

  We closed the door behind us but Sloane being the ever-persistent zombie that she was, tried bulldozing her way in. Reagan and Kaci pressed their weight against the door to keep her out. I dashed over to Katrina as she shrieked for help.

  “What’re you doing?” Brendan asked.

  “Looking for something to use to help Katrina. I think it was her I heard earlier,” I said as I went over to the row of makeup stations that lined the wall.

  “We need your help over here,” Kaci said. “She’s going to get in.”

  The two of them were struggling to keep the door closed. I turned back to Katrina and Jared. “She needs my help more.”

  Hair and Makeup wasn’t as rich in potential weapons as Props had been. I checked Katrina’s station first. She had bottles, jars, and palettes of creams, glosses, and polishes used to take a person from blah to beautiful all spread out along the counter top. There was nothing I could use to stop Jared.

  Brendan seemed to have a similar mission. He overturned furniture in search of something. I tried Jared’s station next. He had several combs and brushes, curling and flat irons, bobby pins, and several cans of different hairsprays. I grabbed one of the curling irons and checked back on Brendan.

  He had completely disassembled one of the director-style chairs that the stylists used to lounge around in between assignments. His eyes met mine with fierce intensity as he held on to one of its wooden legs. He gave me a nod. It was go time.

  Brendan ran toward Jared, hitting him repeatedly in the back and head with the piece of wood. Jared maintained his grip on Katrina. Brendan launched another barrage of strikes to little effect. He needed my help. I crouched low to the ground, sneaking past Jared and stood up behind Katrina. Holding the curling iron like a knife, I jammed it into Jared’s eye. A spray of black liquid rained down, covering most of Katrina’s face and shirt. The both of us gagged from the rancid stench, but I held onto the curling iron, driving it deeper into Jared’s eye socket.

  He loosened his hold on Katrina, and she wiggled free. We scrambled to the other side of the room to help the other girls with the door. Our added weight kept Sloane out but didn’t do much to stop her from trying to get inside.

  Brendan went one-on-one with the one-eyed Jared, using the piece of wood to poke at him. Jared advanced. Brendan took a few quick steps backward then stopped to square his stance. In one quick movement he squatted low and with a sweep of his leg, sent Jared to the ground. Brendan pounced and when he stepped away, there was a piece of wood sticking out of Jared’s head. He was still.

  Brendan panted as he came over to join us at the door.

  “Thank you so much,” Katrina said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her body trembled. “I don’t know what was up wit
h him. He came in saying he’d been bitten by Blake outside, then he just freaked. He threw up and started shaking. I was in the middle of calling for help when he attacked me. Look at what he did.” She raised the sleeve of her navy shirt and showed off a mark on her arm to the group.

  “The son of bitch bit me,” she grumbled.

  Our eyes darted from one another, each of us wearing a look of pre-panic.

  “Uh…how long ago did he bite you?” I asked, slowly backing away from Katrina.

  “Right before you all got here. Can you believe this shit? Something weird is definitely going on around here today. First Missy’s passing—bless her heart—then Jared. Not to mention all of the screaming and running I’ve been hearing all damn day. And you guys. You came bursting through the door like there was a fire, destroyed my room, and stabbed Jared in the face with a broken chair. What is going on?” She put her fists on her hips and stared at us, waiting for her answer.

  I forced an awkward smile that was more of my mouth hanging open, showing my teeth, than an actual smile. Everyone else wore a similar expression.

  “Well?” she asked, shifting her stance. Her fear was long gone and quickly replaced by annoyance.

  Brendan forced a laugh while Kaci’s left cheek did a nervous twitch and Reagan stood with her arms folded.

  “What is going on around here?! What happened to your arm? Why are you all covered in—is that blood? Who’s out there?” She pointed a hot pink fingernail at the door.

  “Someone you don’t want to come in here,” Kaci said.

  “We need you to can it with the questions, Kat,” Reagan said forcefully, stepping away from the door. It opened a little wider than it had before allowing Sloane to get a hand in. We shouted a collective “Whoa!,” and I quickly filled in her position with my back, using my legs to push my body against the door. Brendan grabbed another part of the chair and stabbed her hand with it. Katrina screamed as the hand fell to the floor.

  Kaci—being the closest —peeked through the crack in the door, screamed and kicked at the ground, quickly closing the door.