Tonight The World Dies

by White, Amber

  They must have seen something in my expression that scared them, because they moved back, away from the glass.

  “We . . . We could get you some hamburger meat.” Bobby stuttered.

  “You guys are having hamburgers tonight? Where’d you get the meat?” I asked.

  “The missus ground some up from the cow we slaughtered.” Brennan said.

  “I want it raw,” I said.

  “I’ll get you some,” Brennan said, giving me a weary look before heading upstairs. He looked glad to be leaving.

  I looked down at myself, seeing fresh cuts and bites all over my body. I couldn’t feel any of them.

  “Set another damn monster on me, huh?” I said.

  “I had to run further tests.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Yesterday,”

  “I’ve been out since then?”

  He nodded.

  “Where is it now?”

  “Dead,”

  “It came in that way. I was asking what you did with it afterwards.”

  “The others . . .” He trailed off.

  “Good. There’s only room for one flesh eating pshyco in this house, though I’d really prefer it wasn’t me.” I pressed my hands to the glass, tilting my head to the side, trying to look more human. “Let me go,” I whispered.

  “I can’t do that.” He said.

  “Can’t, or wont?”

  “I can’t. You’re too invaluable.”

  I punched the glass, making it shiver.

  “You’re keeping my friends prisoner and I don’t like it”.

  “It’s not safe out there.”

  “Don’t talk to me about safe,” I all but shouted. “We survived a whole year on our own. Nothing really horrible happened to us until we came here. They would stand a better chance out with those corpses walking around, where at least their motive is singular and simple.”

  “We have shelter and fresh food.” Bobby said.

  “They have weapons and brains.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Me? I have nothing, not even death. You took that away from me.”

  “I gave you new life. You’re stronger, harder to injure.”

  “You gave me an eternity in hell. You stuck me between the living and the God damned dead for your own stick amusement.”

  Brennan came back, carrying a plate of raw hamburger. It didn’t smell as appetizing as the hand that pushed it through the slot, but I ate it none the less.

  “Before, after . . . The incident, you said another dose of your so-called-cure would kill me. How would it do that?” I said, shoving the empty plate back out.

  “Well,” Bobby said. “I tested it with some of the blood I drew from you, and it destroyed all of your blood cells since they all show signs of infection.”

  “So I’m so thoroughly infected that any further attempts at eradicating it would be like three months’ worth of chemotherapy in one day then?” I asked.

  “Basically, yes. But chemo only attacks white blood cells, and this would destroy all of your blood cells, leaving you unable to transport anything in your body.”

  “I didn’t think a full on zombies heart beat at all.”

  “It doesn’t,”

  “So it would completely turn me and not give me real death. I would go whole-hog face-muncher.”

  “Yes,”

  Chapter twenty-two

  The days that followed were dull, blending into one another like one long nightmare from which I could not wake. It seemed my whole entire bloody life was a nightmare. My friends were held in the attic, Brennan and Andy taking turns to guard them. I was stuck in the basement. My bursts of anger increased with restlessness and boredom.

  When Bobby tried to knock me out again, I fought back, resulting in him having a black eye. Served him right.

  I woke up hog-tied in the back of an SUV. Though I could barely feel the ropes biting into my skin, they effectively restricted my movement. The door swung open, sunlight burning my eyes before two dark figures loomed over me, blocking out the sky behind them.

  Bobby loosened the ropes while Andy trained a shotgun on me.

  “Let me guess,” I said, glaring up at them. “You ran out of tampons and want me to get more.”

  “Ha, ha.” Andy said, shaking his head.

  I sat up, letting my legs swing out and dangle over the rear bumper. Both men backed up several paces.

  “Paranoid?” I asked, rising an eyebrow.

  “We need you to go in there,” Bobby said, indicating the store we were parked in front of.

  “And?”

  “And try to find us some toothpaste and toilet paper,” Bobby said.

  “Toothpaste,” I said.

  “And toilet paper.” Andy said.

  “You knocked me out, tied me up, and dragged me here to get toilet paper and toothpaste.” I said.

  “Yes. Oh, and these medications. We’re running a bit low,” Bobby said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. He flinched when I took it from him.

  Not that eating him didn’t cross my mind.

  “Right. Anything else?” I asked, annoyed.

  “There are several zombies in there. We haven’t been able to get in safely before now, and this is the only place in town that has what we need.” Bobby said.

  “I smell like human.” I pointed out.

  “I think you’ll be fine,”

  I stood up, holding my breath as I sidestepped them.

  “Good luck,” Andy whispered.

  “Bitch, please,” I mumbled, striding past.

  It smelled horrible inside, like the normal death and decay, but stronger. It was worse than the poor sap we had found in that gas station last year.

  Zombies shuffled about, moaning softly to one another. A blast of air followed me through the door, blowing the scent of the living in with me. As the door swung shut, each and every undead head turned toward me.

  Chapter twenty-three

  “Oh, frack it all to hell,” I groaned. Yeah, this was going to be a freaking cakewalk.

  The nearest weapons where at the endcap of an isle twenty feet away with a handful of freaks in-between.

  They lumbered nearer, whispers of ‘food, food’ echoing ahead of them.

  “I’m not food,” I said. They ignored me.

  They were getting closer. I ran, sliding on my leg beneath their grasp, crashing into a display of shovels.

  They turned, confused.

  “Food?” They chanted.

  I swung a shovel hard, decapitating the nearest zombie. The others growled, angered.

  “Wait,” One of them said, his papery voice shockingly loud. He- it stepped forward from the crowd. He was different from the others. He seemed older; more decayed. His leathery skin stretched tightly over sharp bones. Its face reminded me of a mummy- brown and shrunken like dried fruit. He scowled. “You don’t smell right.” He said.

  “You can talk?” I asked.

  “Yes,” It said. “Humans can’t hear us though.”

  “I’m not human,” I said. Why was I standing there talking to him? Why the hell wasn’t I killing the undead freaks?

  “I can see that,” He said, which I doubted. His eyes were covered in cataracts. “But you smell like them. And you move like them. You’re freshly turned aren’t you?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Where are the others?” He demanded. When I still didn’t answer, he took an uneven step, teetering on withered feet, the others following suit.

  I didn’t have time for this. Instinct set in and I started swinging. The metal clanged as it collided with the hard skulls; squishing deliciously as it sliced through soft necks. I cut through a handful of them before they surrounded me, forcing me to drop low and crawl between them.

  I could feel their fingers gouge deep marks in my back; ripping out locks of hair. One zombie latched onto my leg, refusing to be shaken off, so I turned, driving the heel of my boot into its forehead.
The softening bone shattered under the force, the rest of its body falling limp.

  I found myself running down the hardware isle, grinning to myself at the ideas flooding through my mind. Two new zombies were closing in, getting within easy striking distance. Slowing down just a little, I snatched up a screwdriver and a saw blade, spinning in place to force the blade through one zombie’s neck, the screwdriver into the ear of the other.

  I was running out of weapons, too many of the undead getting too close for comfort as I neared the end of the isle. I couldn’t just double back. What was near-by? The paint section. I turned, running at a right angle to the horde still chasing me.

  Hooking a paint bucket off the shelf, I hurled it behind me, snapping the neck of the nearest zombie. The barren frozen food section overtook the useful items, with one possible escape left. A single bottle of liquor lay on its side half hidden under a freezer. A pack of cigarettes and a lighter clutched in the hand of a mutilated corpse several feet further down.

  Speeding up, I skidded over to the bottle, juggling it in one hand as I ripped a strip of my shirt off. A hand snatched at me as I scooped up the lighter. Somehow, I burst into the strangely spacious bathroom before the zombies reached me. Clambering into the sink, I pried the vent from the ceiling, squeezing myself inside just as the first zombies pushed their way in. They reached up, trying to climbing over one another in their attempts to reach me.

  I was almost laughing to myself as I unscrewed the cap and dipped the scrap of fabric into the liquid, a short tail hanging out from the neck.

  “Fire in the hole,” I said, snickering.

  Lighting the fabric, I dropped the bottle through the hole I had made, the bottle bouncing off the back of a zombie and crashing to the floor. They screamed as the fire caught, spreading over them, engulfing them.

  Chapter twenty-four

  They tried to escape. They pounded against the door, unable to grasp the handle and pull. Scurrying back toward the rest of the building, I kicked out a light, shimmying through the gap and landing heavily on my feet.

  The pounding and screams grew louder. Glancing around, I saw no trace of zombies or movement. The store was almost peaceful if I ignored the sounds of the undead dying. Which I did.

  They couldn’t get out, and would soon burn to death, what was left of their brains melting inside their heads. The lack of oxygen would eventually put out the flames, if it didn’t catch the walls. I should have paid more attention. I didn’t care about the freaks burning to double death, or burning down anything or anyone that got in my way, but I didn’t want others to suffer because some asshole turned me into a damned zombie. God, he was annoying.

  Chapter twenty-five

  He was there, watching me just out of sight. I could have heard him, I could have smelled him. Hell, I probably could have seen him if I wasn’t so wrapped up in myself.

  I stacked tubes of toothpaste into a wayward cart, throwing giant packages of toilet paper on top of them. I whistled to myself as I crossed the store to the pharmacy, going over the list of needed medications.

  I felt lighter as I walked, letting the dying screams fill my ears like a melody. And then it hit me. What the hell was I thinking? I had nearly killed myself and my friends’ last year because I was careless with a fire. It killed the zombie, but nearly took my friends lives in the process. ‘Maybe I should just go back there; put out the fire myself.’ I thought. They weren’t all dead yet though. I could crush them. I could bash their freaking brai- . . .

  “Oh God,” I whispered. “I really am a monster.” What was left of the good in me strained against the idea of more violence, but I really couldn’t leave that fire burning. I couldn’t risk killing humans. I raced back to the bathroom, turning in circles, trying to find a fire extinguisher.

  One was hooked to a wall near the rusted drinking fountain. Prying it from its holder, I kicked the bathroom door open, dousing the flames; coating the completely dead bodies in white.

  “Half human,” A voice said behind me, latching on to my arm.

  I spun, startled. The withered zombie that had spoken to me before stared at me, face blank.

  “Half human,” He said again, tightening his grip.

  I tried to pull back, but to no avail. He yanked me to him, raising my arm to his mouth.

  “And half pissed off zombie girl,” I said, my anger flaring.

  I kicked his legs out from under him, slamming him to the floor. Straddling him, I grabbed ahold of his face with both hands, and twisted, pulling it up as I pinned his body down.

  He clawed at me, bony fingers finding purchase in my soft flesh, bits of skin coming off in long ribbons. One more good yank was all I needed. His frail bones cracked and crumbled, the leathered flesh giving way as I separated head from body with my bare hands.

  I finished gathering the supplies and hustled outside.

  “Took you long enough,” Andy said.

  “Bite me. I just massacred a building full of zombies.” I growled.

  His eyes widened as he took in the fresh wounds.

  “Close your mouth before the frogs jump in.” I told him.

  “Flies,” Bobby said.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “You said frogs. It’s supposed to be flies that enter his mouth.”

  “Yeah, well it’s too big for it to just be flies.” I said. “Can we go now?”

  “I need to tie you back up,” Bobby said.

  “Screw you.” I said.

  “Andy?” Andy pointed the shotgun at me once more.

  “This is bullshit,” I said, knowing full well that I should be tied up.

  The ride back to the house gave me time to think. I was becoming so reckless, so violent. It scared me.

  Chapter twenty-six

  I woke up the next morning, feeling groggy. I was laid out on the exam table in the basement, rope wrapped around me and the table, pinning every inch of me down. The room became clearer and the business end of a shotgun was in perfect focus, mere inches away from my nose.

  “What this time?” I groaned.

  “You attacked Bobby yesterday when he was tending to your wounds.” Brennan said, standing on the other end of the gun.

  “Right,” I said.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I don’t recall attacking him, and I generally do remember when I try to kill people. Especially if I’m trying to eat them.”

  “He said you went crazy when he injected you with something,”

  “He didn’t tell you what it was?”” I asked dully.

  “Oh, he did. I just don’t know what it was. I don’t even think I could pronounce it.”

  ‘If I’m a danger, which I obviously am, as evident by my being held at gunpoint and tied down to a table, then why am I still breathing?” I asked.

  “It wouldn’t be right,” Brennan said.

  “What wouldn’t?”

  “Killing you,”

  “I killed someone,”

  “I know,”

  “I tried to kill someone else,”

  “I know that too,”

  So how is eliminating the threat not right?”

  ‘I don’t think you were entirely in your right mind when you did those things.” He said.

  “So you think I’m crazy,”

  “Temporary insanity?”

  I laughed. “Good one,”

  “Even if you were nuts, we don’t kill crazy people. We institutionalize them.”

  “There’s no chance of me or my friends walking out of here, is there?” I asked.

  “No, there isn’t.” He said, face somber.

  “You’re just going to keep us here?”

  He nodded, “I’m going to try to find you and your friends a safe place to stay near the house, where you can be guarded from yourself and the others,

  ‘The other who want to kill me? Or the ones who would happily keep us alive to torture us? Didn’t your girls get enough of that before?”


  His face darkened. “I’m gonna keep you safe. You and your friends.”

  “If you’re going to start some sort of The Walking Dead barn collection, I’m going to be very disappointed in you.” I said.

  Someone laughed in the cell.

  “I don’t get it.” Brennan said.

  “It means she doesn’t want you to start collecting zombies and putting them in your barn.” Came Dean’s voice from out of my line of vision.

  All three of them were locked in the cell now. The attack must have gotten too dangerous for them.

  “Can I convince you to kill me instead?” I said.

  “No. I won’t kill another person unless I have to.” Brennan said.

  “I’m dangerous. I can’t control myself when I get angry.” I said.

  “There were a lot of people like that before folks started getting sick. We didn’t kill them.” He said.

  “We did. We put murders to death for hundreds of years.” I argued.

  “I’m not letting anyone kill you, and that’s that.” He said, and turned away.

  Why would no one listen to me? I was a danger to everyone, a ticking time bomb, and they wanted to keep me alive. If I knew I was one hell of a big risk, it should have been easy for him and Bobby to see it as well.

  This was worse torture than being stripped naked and whipped.

  Chapter twenty-seven

  Andy’s face swam into view, smiling but uncertain.

  “Did you miss me?” He said.

  “Obviously. The wind must have thrown my aim off or something. I’m usually pretty good with a gun.” I said.

  He laughed. “Still haven’t lost your since of humor, I see.”

  “What do you want?” I said.

  “I want to help keep you safe.” He said.

  “Even after what I did to your friend?”

  He paled a little, his smile fading. “Well, I umm…”

  “Just get the hell out of here.” I said.

  Andy turned and left, his loud footsteps echoing around the room.

  “That boy is trying awfully hard to be nice to you.” Brennan said.

  “He’s trying awfully hard to get himself killed.” I said.