“You heard all of the safe zones they mentioned on the radio?” Kelly asked. “They’re probably at one of those.”
She was probably right; at least I wanted to believe she was. Kelly was an awesome person from what I could tell. We were stuck in an extraordinary situation together as strangers and it seemed I’d developed a better relationship with her than with any other female since my ex-wife, Ellie’s mother. Of course, who knows if Kelly was feeling the same way. For all I knew, she had a boyfriend—or a girlfriend. In another time or place, perhaps we would have talked about it.
The ‘moment’ was cut short when we heard noises coming from outside the office. Kelly quickly peeked outside the door and saw a couple of infected stumbling about. Then I realized the word ‘infected’ wasn’t the most correct word to use. ‘Undead’ would work just as well. I decided it didn’t really matter and either description was apt.
I held the broken door closed as we discussed a plan of how to handle the infected/undead people.
As we spoke quietly to one another, an infected man over by the washing machines must have heard us, came over to us, and soon enough began slapping his lifeless hands against the door. Kelly and I looked at one another and knew we’d run out of options. We either had to get the hell out of Dodge or we were going to become lunch for this ghoul.
We decided to act.
I remained at the door as Kelly got the shotgun ready. She nodded and I grabbed the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open. The undead man stumbled into the small office, almost falling to the floor. Quickly, Kelly took the shot, and as the shotgun recoiled, the blast broke straight through the seemingly fragile skull and destroyed whatever brain the man had, sending the undead thing back to the dead.
“Good shot,” I said to Kelly, trying not to think about the fact that a dead man lay right between us with half his head missing. She nodded, and without saying a word, looked out of the office where two more undead people were stumbling towards us. They were moving slowly between the benches and washing machines, and we had a relatively clear path to the exit.
“We need to move,” she said and held up the shotgun. “I don’t want to use this if I don’t have to, or I’ll run out of shells.”
I nodded and began to step to the door. She grabbed a broom leaning against the wall and handed it to me. “Keep them back with this,” she said.
We evacuated the building as quickly as possible. Kelly used her shotgun to push one of them back. It fell over a bench and landed hard on the floor, but was unfazed by the bump it had taken. The thing got back up slowly and continued its pursuit of us. By this time, though, we’d escaped the laundromat and were running down the street, looking back at the handful of infected that were being drawn in our direction after all of the commotion.
As we ran, we passed confused-looking people who had been infected, stumbling by themselves aimlessly, and worst of all, feeding frenzies with nearly a dozen at a time huddled together eating someone. These primitive creatures barely noticed us as we ran by stealthily. And, if they did notice us, we outran them until they lost interest. We decided to be as quick and quiet as possible until we came to a good place to rest.
We ran through many streets as my legs cramped up as bad as some of my worst bike races, but I didn’t allow myself to stop. Finally, Kelly began to slow down in front of me—several yards in front, as I simply couldn’t keep up with her.
“Look, it’s a school,” she said. “Should be a good place to take a break.”
It was brilliant thinking. A school during the summertime was bound to be empty. We quickly walked around the perimeter of what looked to be a junior high school, seeing no signs of the living—or the dead. We stopped at the back of the school near a loading dock and took a rest. It was a fenced-in area on three sides so we figured, short of being inside the building, it was the safest place we could be from any wandering infected.
Kelly sat down on the loading dock and put down the shotgun. I attempted to stretch out my cramping legs as well as tend to my shoulder, which still felt quite tender after the bicycle crash from earlier.
We discussed the possibility of hiding inside the school but were unsure of our method of entry considering the only doors nearby were locked. As I brought up the idea of once again taking another walk around the school to survey the different entrances, we began to hear a shuffling noise coming from somewhere close by.
Kelly and I looked around, our eyes darting left and right. There were lights on around the building, so it wasn’t too dark. We couldn’t see anything coming from any direction and I began to wonder if it was simply an animal somewhere.
Kelly looked at me and smirked. “I think we’re okay.”
As she began to let her guard down, there came a scratching noise followed by a bloody arm reaching through the side opening of a dumpster a few feet from Kelly. The man was fast, faster than I would have expected. He lunged from his hiding place and grabbed Kelly’s arm. She screamed as the man pulled her towards the dumpster.
The tearing of flesh and cloth came from behind the dumpster as the infected school janitor attacked Kelly, his teeth tearing into her arm. She quickly reached for her shotgun and in the struggle, knocked it off the loading dock and to the ground.
At this point, I ran to the shotgun and grasped it in my hand. As I picked it up, I witnessed what was left of the janitor curl his dried lips up and over his blood-stained teeth, and in one fell swoop, bit through the flesh of Kelly’s neck. She screamed in horror as I yelled in fear. The janitor looked at me with Kelly’s blood dripping from his mouth. With no hesitation, I pulled the trigger and sent his lifeless carcass back into the trash heap.
While holding her torn neck, Kelly fell to the ground. Blood poured through her fingers. I dropped the shotgun and rushed to Kelly’s side. She looked at me as tears streamed down her face.
“Get out of here, Mike,” she said to me through bloody bubbles. A large blood pool was beneath her, and I knew she was bleeding out fast.
I shook my head and tried to pick her up, but she gently squeezed my hand and looked at me for a moment before letting it go. Then her eyes closed and her body seemed to go limp as she let out one last breath.
I knew what would happen if I stayed and I didn’t have the heart to shoot her when she revived as one of them.
I backed away, turned, and once again began running with the shotgun in my hand. I ran for what seemed like miles without thinking until finally I saw a small building with the lights on. I had no idea if it was safe or not, but my legs just stopped and I dropped to my knees, staring at the lighted building ahead.
JEN
Sam seemed okay other than some bumps and bruises. She hasn’t said anything at all in relation to Robbie since arriving at the hardware store. Pete took her into the back and made a makeshift bed for her out of a fire blanket.
The infected man that had been outside and banging on the door finally wandered away and for the moment the street was empty.
In the meantime, I decided to stay by the front windows to see if anyone came by that could help us. I was hoping for a police car, ambulance, or a fire truck, anything to help the situation. No one came. That is until I saw a different man stumble into the parking lot and then into the street. He had some blood on him but he moved in such a way that I could see he wasn’t one of them. He was carrying a gun, too - a shotgun by the looks of it.
“Pete!” I yelled. “Come quick!”
Of course, in a situation like this, he came running as fast as he could. Realizing he probably thought I was hurt, I quickly added, “There’s a man outside and he looks okay!”
Pete joined me at the window and looked out at the disheveled man. Fido began barking from the manager’s office where Peter had placed him when we’d arrived, in an effort to keep him quiet.
Ignoring the barking, we both approached the front door and Peter quickly unlocked it.
“Hello? Do you need help?” I called to the ma
n in the street.
He looked up and I think I saw him smile a little. “We have to help him,” I said to Peter as I tried to go outside.
Peter held me back and shouted, “Are you sick?”
The man looked up and shook his head no and gave us a thumbs up. At this point, Peter and I ran out to him. Peter took the shotgun out of the man’s hand, and we helped him into the hardware store.
He sat down and we got him some water. He drank deeply.
“Thank you,” he said after taking a breathe.
“What’s your name?” Peter asked.
He closed his eyes for a moment as if he had to think about it. “Mike, my name’s Mike.”
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He nodded slowly in response and seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. At this point, Peter and I helped him to the back where Samantha had fallen asleep.
“Here, Mike,” Peter said. “Rest now. We’ll talk more, later.”
“Thank you,” Mike said. “Who are you guys?”
“Oh, I’m Peter.”
“I’m Jen.”
He smiled at us as he lay down on floor, using some cardboard for bedding. Peter and I returned to the front window and continued our vigil.
TARA
I fought my way out of the walk-in fridge and past several sick-looking customers until I came across Teddy in the kitchen who was now covered in blood and growling and reaching for me. As he came around the counter, he lunged violently in my direction.
I pushed him back with the bread roller and proceeded to hit him hard in the jaw with it. It looked as if his jaw broke in two as he fell hard into the metal counter top once covered in pizza sauce and now covered in blood. I ran for the exit and tossed the bloody bread roller on the ground.
As I left my workplace—possibly for the last time ever, I ran through the parking lot repeating to myself, “The movie theater, the movie theater…” I was going to find out what happened to my boyfriend before anything else.
As I approached my car, I realized, I did not have my keys with me. I didn’t have anything except my work uniform and my cell phone. I looked back at the restaurant and saw Teddy coming out the door after me. I took off running at this point.
I quickly ran a couple blocks, past such surreal scenes that I could barely comprehend if they were real or not. For the most part, the streets were abandoned with crashed and idle cars strewn about.
Eventually, I came across his car, sitting with the driver’s door ajar in the middle of the road. As I approached the car, I found his cell phone laying in two pieces on the ground. I continued walking to the car and saw no signs of blood around—which gave me some hope, but not much.
As I got to the car, I heard the soft beeping sound that cars make when the keys are left in the ignition while the door is open. I hopped in and turned the key. The engine took a second to roll over as I noticed the gas light had come on.
I began to drive in the direction it looked like he had gone. There was no sign of anyone anywhere. I continued to drive, looking for anyone that could be of assistance.
I didn’t make it far before the engine began to sputter as the gas tank was on empty. I coasted the car into a hardware store parking lot where I was shocked to see two people watching me from the front window of the store.
PETER
As the sun started to rise, I was the only one awake. Jen was asleep with Sam in the stockroom. And, the new arrivals Tara and Mike were each sound asleep as well. Both were each shaken up pretty bad upon their arrivals. It made me think of how strangely lucky Sam, Jen and I are. At least we were here together though all this. Tara and Mike were alone.
The infected have been roaming the streets all night. I turned off the main lights in the store shortly after Tara showed up, been running on flashlights ever since. The streetlights are pretty good on this street though, so it has been easy for me to see them—yet hard for them to see me.
Before Jen went to get some sleep, we got Mike’s gun and anything else we could use as a weapon together—blunt objects—mostly shovels. We thought it would be best to keep these things near the entrance if needed.
Also, Fido has been sleeping on the ground next to me. He finally started to calm down a few hours ago so I took him out of the office and was able to get him some water. He went to the bathroom a few times in the office and seemed quite stressed out, I’m glad to see him get some rest. For some reason, watching Fido drink the water and act like a normal dog in a normal situation reminded me of my mom, so I decided to hop on the store phone and give her a call.
I had a contact number for her while she was on vacation in Toronto visiting her sister. So, I called her and got no answer. It went to my aunt’s voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. I had to believe things weren’t like this in Canada. Although, she had to know what has been happening here. I know it’s selfish but I hope she’s worried about me. Better that than the alternative. I hope she’s okay.
Speaking of animals, I’ve been watching birds fly around outside, coming and going as they please. The thing is, they flew relatively close to some infected people and drew no reaction—this makes me think that these things are only after people, not just any form of meat, or dare I say, sustenance.
Once everyone wakes up, Jen and I were thinking of playing around with the bunny ear antennae on the old TV in the office to see if we could find out some news about what’s going on.
As it got lighter outside, I began to worry about them seeing me inside the store. Soon enough, my fears were confirmed as a man wearing a crimson coated shirt and sporting only one arm began stumbling across the parking lot. A few others stumbled through the parking lot during the night, but this one seemed to be coming straight towards the window.
Quickly, I looked up and down the street to see no other infected persons in either direction. So, I grabbed one of the shovels and decided to get rid of the threat.
JEN
After sleeping for a few hours, I came out to the sales floor to meet Peter by the window and see if we could get the TV working. Fido came to greet me, but I was shocked and surprised when I looked outside to see Peter facing off with a sick man.
Scared, I quickly approached the window. “Peter!” I shouted. The infected man looked up at me with his bloody and blank eyes. Knowing there was a window between us helped a little, but I can’t explain the death stare I felt coming from him. As the man stared at me, Peter swung the shovel like a baseball bat at the back of its skull. Blood splattered on the shovel as the man fell hard to the ground. Peter looked up at me with anger written on his face as I motioned for him to come back inside.
Peter ran inside and I greeted him with a hug. After we locked the door behind him, Peter placed his shovel down, and removed his bloody shirt, replacing it with a Fix-It Hardware t-shirt.
“What were you thinking?” I asked.
He simply replied, “I had to…”
I continued to hug him for a moment as he stood there emotionless. Then, Mike came through the swinging stockroom doors. He looked around the hardware store for a moment and then at us.
“Hi, guys,” Mike said in a pretty monotonous tone.
“Morning,” I said.
“Hi, Mike,” Peter said. “How are you doing?”
Mike shook his head. “I guess this wasn’t just a dream…”
“Yeah, I know,” Pete replied. “We’re going to check out the news and see what’s happening.”
Mike nodded, “Sounds good. Is there a phone I can use first?”
Pete pointed to the cashier’s station. “Go for it.”
“Thank you.”
It was hard to read how Mike was feeling. He hadn’t said much about the night before so we had no idea what he had been through. He came to us, holding a shotgun with only two bullets—or shells I guess, and he was covered in little scrapes and bruises. Needless to say, he looked like a mess. Also, he had been holding his shoulder almost nonstop. Pete asked him last
night if it was okay and Mike said, “Just a little sore, it was a rough night.” It wasn’t bleeding or anything and other than the little cuts he had, it didn’t look like he had any wounds or, more specifically, any bites.
That being said, Tara was just about as mysterious. She pulled into the parking lot with a car with no gas left. We weren’t even sure if the car was hers or if she found or stole it. She didn’t seem like the criminal type, but then again, I don’t think one would have to be to steal a car in a situation like this.
She wasn’t nearly as banged up as Mike, but she was sporting a waitress uniform that was covered in dry blood. I couldn’t even imagine how her work shift went… It was very evident that whatever she had been through was quite traumatic as she lightly cried herself to sleep once we got her situated in the stock room.
Peter and I seemed to be unofficially in charge of the small group that had formed overnight. Sam seems to be very distant after what had happened to Robbie and I don’t think she’s going to get much better anytime soon.
I just hope that we can hold things together until help arrives. We’re going to start fiddling around with the TV soon. Once Mike finishes his phone call, we’ll start figuring it out while one of us stays by the window. This will probably have to be Peter or myself as I’m not sure if we can trust Mike to keep watch by himself—he still seems pretty fragile or vulnerable at this time.
MIKE
Using the store’s phone, I once again tried to get in touch with my ex to see if she and Ellie were okay. Unfortunately, I had the same luck as when I tried in the Laundromat—no answer. Perhaps I would try again soon, but I was pretty sure they had left… Hopefully, they’ve made it somewhere safe and secure; away from all of this.
Decay: A Zombie Story Page 4
