Dia of the Dead

by Brinson, Brit

  I really didn’t expect to see bags under sad eyes in my reflection in the mirror above the double sinks but they were there with the rest of me, bandaged, bruised, and looking like a drowned rat.

  I wiped away a tear and turned from my reflection. I crossed the room and sat on the edge of the tub. My mind wandered to my mom. I wanted nothing more than to hear her voice. I reached into the pocket to get my phone and turned it on. I didn’t have any messages from her. I tried calling again but only got her voicemail. The phone slipped from my hand, landing on the marble floor. I slid down the side tub, collapsing to the ground, and sobbed. I felt hollow. And scared. A knock on the door interrupted my crying. Reagan needed to use the bathroom.

  “One minute,” I called back, trying to sound like nothing was wrong. I picked up the phone from the floor and put it back inside the belt’s pocket. My bladder was practically begging me to empty it. I quickly used the restroom, washed my hand, and opened the door for Reagan.

  THIRTEEN

  Tensions seemed to have eased in Mr. Bixby’s office. With Reagan gone, Brendan had stretched out on the rug, his hands laced, supporting his head as he stared up at the ceiling, a few empty jars on the floor next to him. Kaci was still in her ball in the corner. She hadn’t said much since we made it up to the office. In fact, she hadn’t said anything at all. Maybe she needed some time to herself. She was probably worried about her mom, dad, and trio of younger sisters. I decided to give her space and went over to the fridge to grab something else to eat and found Brendan had cleared out most of the food in fridge. I grabbed one of the tins of caviar that was left and a bottle of moss colored juice and joined him on the rug.

  “Hey,” I said quietly.

  He sat up. “Hey.”

  We exchanged awkward half-smiles, neither of us sure of what to say. I looked away, glancing at the bathroom door.

  I turned back to him. “Was she crying?”

  He knitted his brow, looking confused.

  “Reagan. She looked like she’d been crying when I passed her on my way out of the bathroom.”

  “I think she might have been. She tried getting in touch with her dad again and couldn’t reach him.”

  “Oh,” I said quietly. “Maybe he’s somewhere safe.”

  He sighed. From the look on his face, it was apparent that he didn’t have high hopes for Mr. Bixby.

  I sighed too. I didn’t allow my mind to wander back to my worry about my own mother. I focused my concern on Reagan. “Do you think Reagan’s all right?”

  He shrugged. “It’s hard to say with her. She put up her tough facade as soon as you left the room and acted like she didn’t say what she’d just said. I think…I think I really hurt her. And paired with everything else…she’s just as scared as the rest of us.”

  “You’re scared?”

  “Hell yeah I’m scared. I’d be crazy if I wasn’t. Aren’t you?”

  “Terrified,” I admitted.

  “That’s why we have to stick together no matter what.”

  “Right.” I nodded. “Should I go check on her?”

  “Nah, I think we should leave her alone. If she needs us, she’ll let us know.” Brendan trailed off and the room went silent again.

  “Sorry for being a jerk earlier,” I said, setting my meal down on the rug between us.

  “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. I should be saying sorry to both you and Reagan. Iwas being an asshole. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s just that…” He exhaled and ran his hands through his hair and sighed heavily. “I…don’t do well under pressure. I start yelling and people get upset and it’s just…all bad. My mom used to get on me about my temper… I don’t think she’ll be doing that anymore.”

  He didn’t need to say anything else. His eyes said it all.

  “I haven’t heard anything from my mom or dad or my brothers. I guess I’m on my own now.” He pulled his legs up toward his torso and rested his arms on them.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Have you heard from your mom?” He asked.

  I pulled out my phone again, pressing a button and illuminating the screen. “She called earlier and left a few messages….” Tears began to well in my eyes. I sat the phone on the floor and wiped them away with the back on my hand.

  “Dia! You have an incoming call!”

  I blinked away tears and looked at my phone. Mom was calling. I hurried to answer.

  “Mom?”

  “Dia! My baby! You’re okay?!”

  “Mom! Yes! Yes! I’m fine! Where are you?”

  “I’m in the security building. I fought my way out of Helena Gardens, ruining a ton of nose and boob jobs in the process but I made it out. I told you Ms. Johansen’s boobs were fake!”

  “Mom! Focus! You’re on the lot? Are you safe?”

  “Yes and I think so. At least for now. Are you safe?”

  “Yes. I’m in Mr. Bixby’s office with Kaci, Reagan, and Brendan. We’re fine.”

  “Is it nice up there? Does he have lots of fancy stuff? I bet it’s fancy.”

  “Mom,” I said sternly.

  “I was just asking. I’m going to stay here until morning. It’s crazy out there. People are eating each other in the streets. Me and Frank almost didn’t make it.”

  “Frank’s with you?”

  “Of course. The little mutt has been making himself useful by sniffing out danger.”

  It was good to hear mom’s voice but knowing Frank was okay put my relief over the top.

  “Dia, I can’t stay on the phone long. The battery’s dying and I don’t think I’ll be able to charge it anytime soon. Before I go, I want to let you know that I’ll get to you somehow. I’m not going to leave my baby behind. Meet me in the cafeteria.”

  “When?”

  “Daybreak.”

  “Daybreak? I have no idea when that is?”

  “When the sun rises. Nevermind. I forgot you were a teenager. Meet me at eight. Sharp. Oh—“

  Frank yelped and growled in the background.

  “Sweetie, I gotta go.”

  “Mom! Wait! We can’t meet in the cafeteria. It’s too far inside the lot and it’s too dangerous. We wouldn’t be able to make it out. I’ll meet you at security.”

  Going to the security building was equally dangerous but I’d risk it. It was better than having my mother venture into the studio with only Frank to protect her. I had Brendan with his brawn, Reagan with her knowledge of the studio, and Kaci…I had Kaci for moral support. We were a team better suited to meet her.

  A growl that didn’t belong to Frank came from the other end of the line.

  “Mom?”

  The growls became louder and so did Frank’s barking. Mom yelled something that was distorted by the sounds of a scuffle.

  “Mom?”

  I wasn’t sure if she could hear me but I tried anyway.

  “Mom?!” I shouted. “Mom! I’ll meet you! Don’t leave that spot! I’ll meet you!” I repeated myself until three beeps killed the call.

  I gripped the phone like it was responsible for my life. Even with almost no battery power left, I called my mom back. It rang until it went to her voicemail. I tried again with the same result. My mind jumped to the worst conclusion. She wasn’t going to answer because whatever was growling in the background had gotten to her and…

  I dropped the phone; fresh tears began to flow down my cheeks. Brendan offered his shoulder to cry on and I accepted. He wrapped his arms around me as I cried into his smelly, damp t-shirt.

  “Aw, how sweet.” Reagan re-entered the room.

  I untangled myself from Brendan’s arms and wiped away tears from my blushing cheeks feeling embarrassed.

  “Oh, don’t let me stop you two. You sure bounce back quickly, Brendan. Did my dad pay you to hug her like that?” she snarked as she made her way back to her seat at her father’s massive desk.

  “You may continue. I’ll just be over here making sure we don’t die during the night.” She settled i
nto the desk’s large leather chair.

  “Just pretend I’m not here while you two make out,” she said as she swiveled in the seat.

  She opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a slender black remote. She pressed a button and the news coverage of the carnage at the hospital was replaced by the footage from the Bixby Studios security cameras. The screen was split into quarters, each featuring footage from all over the lot, cycling though each camera’s feed. I saw many familiar faces on screen as they moved toward an unknown destination under the night sky.

  I turned away, unable to look any longer. I locked eyes with Brendan and blushed again. We were sitting close enough to justify Reagan’s comments. I scooted away from him; Brendan stood up and cleared his throat. He approached Mr. Bixby’s desk, his eyes set on Reagan.

  “Reagan, I’m sorry for not being honest with you. I put my career first and didn’t consider your feelings. I apologize for being such an inconsiderate jerk,” he said.

  Reagan’s face softened briefly then quickly hardened back into a frown. “Whatever,” she said, waving him off.

  He stood there for a moment, looking embarrassed and unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat again and shifted in his stance.

  “I’m going to go check on Kaci. She’s been awfully quiet since we’ve been here and a quiet Kaci Miller is weird,” I said, thankful for the excuse to get away from the awkwardness of watching Brendan apologize to Reagan.

  I got up from the floor. My bones creaked and my muscles groaned in protest as I walked over to the window and sat down next to her. She looked out of the window. Her hair spread our over her shoulders like a blanket, obscuring her face.

  “Kaci,” I said softly, lightly nudging her shoulder to get her attention. She turned toward me. I jumped, moving away from her. The little color her fair skin had had left, leaving it a sickly gray. Dark circles surrounded her green eyes and there was a drying stain of black trailing down her chin from the corner of her mouth.

  “Kaci, were you bitten?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to alarm Brendan and Reagan. I glanced over my shoulder. Brendan was on his feet, looking at us, and Reagan had the desk chair swiveled in our direction, her eyes watching us intensely. They knew something was up.

  Kaci shook her head.

  “Are you sure?”

  Kaci didn’t reply. Instead she stared out of the window.

  “What’s going on?” Brendan asked from behind us.

  “Nothing,” I said over my shoulder.

  I turned back to Kaci and brushed her hair away to check for bites. Her legs seemed fine. I checked her arms; they were left exposed thanks to her ripped tank top. There were no bites but the long scratch Mason left on the length of her arm looked like it was setting up a pretty nasty infection. The scratches from Will were still seeping through the cloth she’d tied around her upper arm. I saw a tinge of the blue rash that appeared on both Amber and Taylor beginning to spread from the wound. She touched the cloth and winced. I circled her to see what could be wrong. Besides the scratch on her arm, she had a semi-circle of what looked to be teeth marks on her shoulder blade.

  “Why didn’t you say anything about this, Kace?” I asked looking at the bite, probably from Will.

  She shrugged. “I thought I was special,” she said hoarsely.

  “Special?”

  She looked at me fully. The color of her eyes appeared to darken, changing to an emerald color. Patches of blue snaked their way up her neck.

  “There’s always someone in these kinds of situations who has an immunity. I thought it’d be me but it’s probably Brendan. Amber bit him earlier and he’s fine.”

  I looked back at him. His skin still had a healthy glow and despite his busted lip, ripped shirt, and gore splattered jeans, he was in tip-top shape. I looked at Kaci—who coughed up tiny bubbles of black ooze, wiping it away with the back of her hand—then back to Brendan. They were as different as night and day. I got up from the floor and went over to him, staring at him puzzled.

  “What?” He shifted in his stance.

  “How are you okay if Amber bit you like Kaci said?” I asked.

  “Yeah, how?” Reagan joined me standing in front of him, looking as confused as I was.

  “I dunno. I feel fine though.” He held his arms out in front of him, examining them. “Maybe it’s because I’m Canadian.”

  “What?” Reagan and I said in unison.

  “How does being Canadian make you immune? It makes absolutely no sense,” Reagan said loudly.

  “I dunno.” Brendan shrugged. “Must be the 100% Canuck moose venom pumping through my veins.”

  He flexed his bicep and gave it a quick peck before lowering his arm.

  “What?” Reagan and I repeated again in unison, both of our faces screwed up tightly.

  Reagan’s eyes were wide in disbelief, her mouth hanging open slightly. “That may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard some pretty dumb stuff in the last couple of hours.”

  “Yeah, well…” Brendan muttered, shifting in his stance. “I’m just going off of what I learned from movies and comics. There could be a million reasons why I’m not a zombie. All we really know is that we’re pretty sure Z might possibly be behind all this but we have no idea where it came from or why it turned everyone into zombies. Being Canadian could make me immune. I’m an actor not a scientist, dammit so who knows why I’m okay.” He huffed. We had obviously bruised his ego.

  I wanted to ask more questions about his Canadian-ness and its magical power of immunity but we had more pressing matters at hand.

  “What’re we going to do about Kaci?” I asked.

  “What’re we going to do about him?” Reagan pointed at Brendan. “We all know that she’s probably not going to last much longer but him? He’s like a ticking time bomb. He could start acting weird at any moment.”

  “I told you I feel fine. I look fine, don’t I?” He looked around for a surface to check his appearance.

  “You do,” I assured him.

  He sighed then pumped his fist. “Awesome.”

  “I think Kaci’s more at risk right now, Reagan.” I lowered my voice. “We need to figure out what to do with her.”

  Both of them gave me knowing looks.

  “No,” I gasped, taking a step back. “We can’t.”

  “We have to,” Brendan said somberly.

  “We can think of another way. We can’t do that to her. Not Kaci. She’s our friend.”

  “She’s your friend,” Reagan said, looking at her fingernails instead of at me. “If Kaci’s a threat, she has to be eliminated. Plain and simple.”

  I looked to Brendan, hoping he had another solution.

  “I agree with Reagan,” he said with a blank expression.

  I had been outvoted. I knew this was coming yet part of me hoped for a different outcome.

  “Do what you have to do.” Kaci coughed, not turning around to face us.

  Brendan, Reagan, and I exchanged looks. The same question seemed to be on all of our minds: who was going to be the person to do the deed?

  The task of what to do with Kaci was left to the person with the shortest straw. Reagan found a few of them in the cabinet where Mr. Bixby had quite a collection of aged Scotch. She shortened one and held it along with two others inside her fist. Brendan and I picked one then we all compared our selections. Brendan put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze as he looked at me with sad eyes.

  “Sorry, Dia.” He let go and handed me the golf club. I took it from him, accepting the task.

  Kaci’s life had to end before zombism ended it for her (and gave her a frightening second wind). Of course it fell to me. Reagan didn’t consider her a friend, and Brendan and Kaci never hung out. That left me, her best friend. If television, movies, and my little over a year of acting experience told me anything, it was that the person with the closest relationship to the person with failing health was responsible for the mercy kil
ling. It ups the drama and gets good ratings. If this were televised, we’d probably be making solid sweeps numbers.

  I approached Kaci slowly, tears trickling down my face. Her back was toward the group. The distance between Kaci and us seemed like light years though it was only a few feet. Every memory I had of her flooded my mind, causing me to stop. I turned back to Reagan and Brendan.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “You have to. Your straw was the shortest. Stop wasting time we can’t afford to waste and go ahead and do it.” Reagan waved me forward. Brendan urged me on as well. They weren’t going to let me off the hook. I took a step forward and paused again.

  “I can’t.” I turned back to them. “Look at me. I’m struggling to hold the damn golf club. I won’t do this.” I dropped the club and wiped more tears away.

  “Fine. I’ll do it.” Brendan huffed and marched forward, sweeping up the club from the floor on his way over to Kaci. He stopped just behind her and raised the club over his head, ready to bring it down and deliver a blow.

  “Dammit.I can’t do this either.” He dropped the club and came back over to Reagan and me.

  “We need a different plan. She’s Kaci. Her crush on Mason was annoying but she was a nice girl,” he said defeated.

  Kaci coughed and wheezed in the quiet room as we put our heads together and tried to come up with another solution.

  “I have an idea,” I said. Reaganand Brendan’s heads perked up from their bowed position to look at me.

  I told them my plan and both agreed it was better than having Kaci’s blood on our hands. Brendan scooped Kaci up from the floor, carrying her in his arms. She was fading fast; her eyes barely managed to stay open. She could change at any moment. Reagan opened the secret exit.

  My plan was simple: drop Kaci off outside before the change could happen and let nature take its course…far away from us. I went with Brendan, carrying the club just in case something went wrong. Kaci bounced around in Brendan’s arms as we dashed down the stairs as quickly as we could. I ran a little ahead of him so I could open the door when we reached the bottom. I stopped at the door.

  “W-W-What’s the hold up?” Brendan breathed when he caught up.