by White, Amber
“We all have our hobbies. Grandma knits, the hobo outside the liquor store collects cans…I blow stuff up.” I said.
Samuel knocked on the side of the RV, standing just outside the door. “Are you still going to teach me to reload bullets?” He asked.
“Sure thing kid. Come on up.” I said. “You’ll have to sit next to me. Take Andy’s spot. It has the best view.”
Andy moved grudgingly, Samuel only too happy to join me. I taught him the finer points of measuring the pellets for shells and gun powder for both, and how to pack them carefully. The easiest part was setting them on the tray and using the lever to set the bullet in, or fold over the shell sides to hold the pellets in, though it still took a steady hand.
“What’s going on?” Sully said, walking up to the table, two delicious looking apples in his hands.
“I promised Samuel I’d teach him the tricks of the trade.” I said.
“Awesome.” He handed me an apple and sat down across from me. “How’s he doing?”
“Quiet well.” I said. “The kid’s a natural.”
I smiled at Samuel and he beamed up at me.
We finished up the set, three full boxes of bullets now ready to use. The children played tag in the grass most of the day, their laughter spilling in through the open door and windows.
Some days later, something woke me so suddenly I forgot where I was. I had been dreaming of something strange. I tried to recall it, but gave up the moment I realized what had pulled me from my slumber. Thunder rumbled through the inky sky. In the pitch black of the room, the sound of a torrential downpour dominated all else. I rolled off the bed and stepped to the window, parting the curtain with both hands. Bright white light flashed, blinding me. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four one thousand. Thunder rumbled again. I took a deep breath, the scent of moist dirt slowly filling the room through the open window. Smiling, I inched my way back into bed, unable to see anything. Lightning again- bathing the room in bright, pure white light, penetrating my closed eyes. I counted the seconds- three- until the next thunderclap. I lay there, tired, unable to fall back asleep. The rain eased back, turning into a steady drip; the thunder low and long. The objects around me slowly took shape. I looked to the window as light crept in. The longer I stared at it, the brighter it got. The rain picked up again. I could soon identify the contents of the room, still where I had left them when I went to sleep. I softly treaded back to the window. Looking out, I could see the trees and the grass. The clothes line sagged, sopping wet. It must have been around six AM. The others would be waking soon and another day of work would begin. If this kept up, I would be soaking wet within minutes of stepping outside. Smiling placidly to myself, I dressed, forgoing a sweater for a long sleeved shirt. No point in getting more things wet than necessary. I laid out an old tee shirt and sweats, lovingly adding a woolen sweater my mother had made for me to the top of the pile, all ready for me to change into when the work was done. I sighed, thinking of a warm fire and hot chocolate. Inexplicably, the memories of Christmases past popped into my mind. Snow, hot chocolate, eggnog, warm sweaters and socks; a brightly lit tree with ornaments older than I was. My happy family. Mom knitting by the fire, my tiny fingers trying to copy her speed as I made tiny angels and birds to add to the tree. Dad beaming at us whenever he looked up from his book. He was reading aloud A Christmas Carol- the full version- from an old leather bound book that always smelled a little musty. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I wiped them away as I pulled on my boots, making sure my face was dry before going downstairs.
When I got to the kitchen, the storm had ceased, but black clouds threatened more to come. Elizabeth and Mary sipped coffee at the table, a strange expression crossing their faces as I passed.
“Something wrong?” I asked. They didn’t answer.
When Andy and Todd came in, the girls marched off, throwing me a dirty look.
“What’s up with them?” I asked.
“They’re just mad because they’ve been chasing after us,” Andy indicated himself and his brother. “And last night, we told them we weren’t interested.”
“Ah, unrequited love. Something you know all about,” I said. Todd laughed.
Outside in the mud, with rain clouds still looming overhead, I hummed to myself while I slopped a pig pen with Billie. Each of the boys had their own.
“What is that song?” Andy asked from the next pen.
“Black Clouds,” I said. “Why? You know it?”
“No, that’s why I asked. It sounds so unfamiliar. Who sings it?”
“Papa Roach,”
“What’s a Papa Roach?” Todd asked. Billie giggled.
“It’s a rock band from California,”
“Never heard of ‘em.” Andy said.
“What’s your kind of music, then?” I asked.
“Toby Keith,” He said.
My friends and I exchanged sideways glances at each other. We took turns boisterously singing each line of the first verse of How Do You Like Me Now? Todd and Andy joined in, earning us filthy looks from Mary and Elizabeth while they fed the pigs in the clean pens.
They didn’t have much to complain about from where I was standing, which was ankle deep in mud and crap. Besides, they could have joined in if they wanted to.
When we were done, everyone hosed off and went inside for lunch. It was dry and toasty warm in the kitchen, where everyone gathered for thick sandwiches full of meat and cheese and tomatoes. A pot of hot coffee and a thermos of hot chocolate made from powdered mix were kept in the center of the table, constantly being passed around from person to person.
Just as we were finishing, the rain picked up again with renewed vigor.
“You all get those pens cleaned up?” Brennan asked.
We nodded, unable to speak around mouthfuls of bread.
“Since all the animals are taken care of, and nothing needs to be fixed, I don’t see why we can’t stay inside for the rest of the day, ‘less of course something happens that needs handling.” He said.
The younger kids cheered. The rain kept up for another day, soaking everything, including us, as we did the chores.
The next day dawned hot and dry, the ground returning to hard earth by mid-afternoon. That night, after everyone else had gone to bed, I found myself staring out my window, unable to sleep, the cool night breeze blowing softly through the screen. Something moving in the tree line caught my attention. I grabbed my rifle, ready to shoot.
I debated on calling out, getting the attention of the rest of the house, but decided it might rile up who- or whatever was out there. It was trying to be silent, but kept breaking branches and crunching leaves around it.
A large shape stepped out into the moonlight. As it walked closer, it came into sharper focus. Two people, Brennan and Bobby, led a zombie through the lawn, a rope tied around its neck and hands. It looked fresh, pale flesh still showing on its face. I could just hear them talking through the open window.
“Come on, we have to hurry up before any of those kids spot us.” Brennan said.
“Don’t you think I know that? Jo is already suspicious.” Bobby spat. He looked battered, all covered in scratches and bruises.
Trading my rifle for my pistol, I crept downstairs, keeping to the shadows as best I could. They came inside, the zombie still staggering behind them.
“How many more of these are you going to need?” Brennan asked.
“As many as it takes. I know I’m getting close, I just have to find how long they can be infected before it becomes ineffective.” Bobby said.
The zombie moaned a little.
“Shut him up!” Bobby hissed.
Brennan tied a cloth around its mouth while Bobby used the rope to pull its hands down, out of Brennan’s way.
They threw open the basement door, unceremoniously shoved the zombie in, and locked it behind them. I stalked forward, pressing my ear to the door. Something heavy clicked, a low moaning echoing out, then another click, and all
was silent. It sounded like there were multiple zombies locked up down there, with some sort of barricade blocking out the noise they made. Brennan and Bobby started talking again, their voices getting louder. They were headed back up the stairs.
“How much longer?” Brennan said.
“Not long. I’m close, I’m sure of it.” Bobby answered
“And you think it will work?”
“Of course it will! It has to.”
I tip-toed around the corner and hid myself behind the wall separating the entryway from the living room. The basement door opened.
“We can’t keep this up forever.” Brennan whispered.
“I know, I know. After this I should be ready to move on to fresher test subjects.” Bobby said.
“You are NOT putting my family in any more danger for this. I want proof it will work first.” Brennan growled.
“Your family won’t be in danger. We can use one of the kids.”
A pause, then: “Which one did you have in mind?” Brennan asked.
“Jo. We could use Jo. She’s a fighter. She’ll be perfect for it.”
“And if you can’t get her?”
I poked my head around the corner. Brennan was leaning against the banister, his nose pinched between his forefinger and thumb. He looked tired.
“Then we’ll have to settle for one of the others. Sully might be a good candidate.” Bobby sat on the steps next to Brennan, his head in his hands, his whole body sagging down. He stood and trudged slowly up the stairs. “Good night.” He said, and disappeared into the shadows.
Brennan sighed and followed him.
When their footsteps faded, I slipped back up the stairs and into my room.
I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
Chapter thirteen
When morning dawned, I slunk into Sully’s room, closing the door as quietly behind me as possible.
“Sully, I need you to wake up.” I whispered, one hand over his mouth, the other shaking his shoulder. “Sully please, this is important.”
His eyes fluttered open. “Wha…?” He mumbled.
“You have to be quiet.” I said, slowly lifting my hand from his face.
“What’s going on?” He whispered.
“Bobby is doing something in the basement, some sort of experiment involving zombies. They want us to be part of it.”
“How do you know?” He asked.
“I saw him and Brennan bring a zombie in last night. Then I heard them talking about an experiment, and how long ‘they’ can be infected before ‘it’ becomes ineffective. He needs uninfected test subjects soon, and wants me for it. If they don’t get me, then they’re going for you.” I said.
Sully’s eyes grew wide. “Are you sure?” He said.
“Absolutely, positively, without a doubt.” I nodded.
“Then we have to find out what’s going on down there, for everyone’s sake.” He said, throwing his blankets off and rushing to the dresser to pull on fresh clothes.
We loaded our weapons, and strapped on as many as we could before waking Billie and Dean. Fully armed, we walked downstairs, ready to force our way into the basement, or get some answers out of Bobby and Brennan, whichever came first.
“How do you expect to get in there if it’s locked from the inside?” Dean asked.
I raised my shotgun. “This is my master key. Any lock opens magically when I blow a door off its hinges.” I said.
“What’s going on?” Andy said, walking in from the kitchen.
“I’m going to find out what’s going in that basement.” I said.
“That’s really nothing to worry about.” He said, looking nervous.
“Then you won’t mind us taking a look around.”
“I can’t let you do that.” He said.
“What if I kill you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Trust me, it won’t help.”
“What’s all this racket going on down here?” Brennan said from the top of the stairs, Amy behind him.
“I want to know what Bobby is doing down there.” I pointed to the basement door.
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.” He said.
“Ignorance killed the cat. Curiosity was framed. I know what you two did last night. I heard you talking as well.”
Brennan blanched.
“I have every right to know what the hell is going on.” I was almost shouting.
“We can’t tell you.” He said.
“Either you tell us what your demented little scientist is doing, or I force my way in. It’s your choice.” I took a step toward the door.
“You don’t want to do that.” Andy said.
“Don’t you effing dare tell me what I want.” I growled.
“Please, just calm down, and everything will be ok.” Andy said, slowly walking toward me.
“What are you people doing?” Billie said.
“Why is what’s going on in the basement such a secret?” Dean asked.
“I know it has something to do with zombies! I saw you bring one in! I know you’re experimenting on them, and Bobby wants me next!” I shouted.
“Brennan, is this true?” Amy asked, shocked.
“Honey, don’t listen to her. She’s crazy.” Brennan tried to sooth her.
“Why is everyone shouting?” Elizabeth and Mary said, walking out of their room.
The rest of the house was waking up. Sparky and Steven came barreling out of their room, guns in tow.
“What’s wrong? We heard someone shouting about zombies.” Sparky said.
“It’s nothing. Jo here had a nightmare last night and is still a bit shaken up about it.” Brennan said.
“You freaking liar! Why don’t you tell your family about what you’re letting Bobby keep in the basement, what you helped him capture!” I screamed.
“Mommy?” Brent said, he and Joshua trudging bleary eyed out of their room.
“Go back to bed sweetie. Everything’s fine. Make sure your sisters stay in bed too.” Amy said, ushering the children back down the hall.
Brennan was looking more and more distraught by the minute. “They’re people, Jo. Sick people who just need the right medicine.”
“You think I haven’t thought of that? I’ve been dealing with that idea since the beginning, but they eat living flesh! When it comes right down to it, it’s us or them.” I said.
“Brennan?” Steven said.
“He’s trying to make them better!” Brennan said. “He’s trying to find a cure!”
“You can’t cure death and reanimation. All you can do is shoot them and hope they stay dead that time.” Sully said.
“Bobby!” I screamed. “Bobby I know you’re down there. Open up or I’m shooting the door.”
“Don’t do it Bobby! Don’t let them ruin the experiment!” Brennan shouted.
Billie, Dean, and Sully pointed their guns at him. Steven and Sparky pointed their guns at us in response. Sully and Dean moved their focus to the Thompson brothers, while Billie’s sights stayed squarely on Brennan.
I raised my shotgun again. “You have five seconds, Bobby.”
Slow footsteps echoed up the stairs. “Don’t shoot!” Bobby called through the door. “I’m unlocking it now.”
The locks clicked and the door swung open, revealing Bobby in a stained white lab coat, blue medical gloves covering his hands.
I strode toward him and pressed the barrel of the gun against his chest. “Show me what’s down there.” I said. “And no funny business.”
He turned slowly, hands in the air and walked back down, me right behind him and Sully following close behind. Billie and Dean kept watch from the entryway.
Chapter fourteen
The basement was cold and grey, lined with test tubes, microscopes, and a large bookcase overflowing with binders, books, and folders. A gleaming steel table stood with one end butted against a wall; some sort of holding cell nearby, hidden from view by heavy red drapes.
“What are you doin
g down here?” I asked.
“I’m trying to help people. That’s all I’ve been doing. These people you keep calling zombies, they’re still human. They’re sick, that’s all. I’ve been trying to cure them. Haven’t you noticed they can think?”
“They can’t think!” Sully said.
“Even if they can think, they still try to eat people, they want to kill us.” I said.
“It’s part of their disease. Would you kill someone who had Dementia?” Bobby asked.
“If they tried to kill me, I might. If we consider them as living, thinking people who can feel pain and rationalize, then we risk death ourselves. Putting them down would be kind.” I argued. “What’s in there anyways?” I pointed to the cell.
Bobby walked slowly to it, hands still in the air. With one hand, he pulled a curtain back, uncovering the longest side. It was a thick glass cell, small vents cut in it for breathing. The zombie they had dragged in the night before stood alone inside, staring dully at the wall, its head tilted sideways.
“What the hell…?” Sully said.
The zombie swiveled around at the sound of Sully’s voice. It bared its teeth and growled, rushing forward to pound on the glass.
“It’s my latest test subject. I’ve been developing a serum that reverses the biodegration process by returning the subjects pH level to normal and forcing blood back through its veins.”
“Get to the point.” I ordered.
“That is the point.” Bobby said, confused.
“Put it into terms someone who didn’t go to college can understand.” Sully said.
“Essentially, the serum restarts the body.”
“And what does that have to do with us? You said last night you wanted me for your next test.” I said.
“I…” Bobby started.
“Hurry up, before I reach through your stomach and rip out your spine.” I said.
Bobby paled. “I need a fresher test subject. The serum hasn’t been entirely successful on those who have remained fully infected for long periods of time.”
“And you planed on volunteering me for the next test? Did you ever consider that perhaps I don’t want to be part of this?” I said, my anger growing.
