The Loving Dead

by Amelia Beamer

  Kate blocked the door. “Don’t. You don’t know.”

  Michael could smell the sex. This was hot. But Kate was clearly upset. Something was going on, more than just embarrassment. He turned around and waved his hands, shooing at his friends. “Nothing to see here, ladies and germs. As you were.” The guys let out a collective “Aww.” They stayed where they were. Audrey and Natalie headed back towards the kitchen, sensing Kate’s embarrassment, or maybe just ready for another drink.

  “Kate, you all right?” Cameron asked.

  “Clear out, please. Give us some space,” Michael said. “Your friend drunk in there? Do we need to bring her something to vomit in, maybe?”

  A low moan came from inside the room.

  “She’s not well,” Kate said.

  “Let me check it out.” Cameron wore the classic stoner expression, eyes half-open and an amused, closed-lipped smile. He pushed past Michael. Kate blocked the door. She had stopped crying, and now just looked frightened. Michael wished he were a little more sober, so he could say something smart to calm her down. He patted her arm. “Kate, doll, what’s going on? You can tell me.”

  “She’s tied up,” Kate said in a small voice. “She made this terrible moan. I think she’s sick.”

  “Let’s check it out,” Michael said. “You can trust me. I’m not going to make fun of you.”

  Kate moved aside, just enough to let him pass.

  Sure enough, Kate’s friend was roped to the bed. Naked. She wore white contacts, and her skin was a fine gray. Her gaze moved among the men, and she licked her lips.

  Michael was stunned. He knew Kate had a sense of humor, but this was beyond expectations. She’d turned her friend into a perfect sexy zombie. He turned to her. “You had me all worked up! You two must have been doing makeup all this time. And I never thought you were such an actor.”

  “I’m not,” Kate said. She wasn’t grinning like she should have been. “I don’t know what happened.”

  “My compliments,” Cameron said. “She looks awesome.”

  “Wow, Kate,” Sam said. “You know, what would be even better is if you’d put some blood on her. Or some black goo, or something. I guess you don’t want to mess up your sheets, though.”

  “Kate, you can cop to the joke,” Michael said. “It was masterful. Smile already.”

  Kate blushed. “It’s not a joke. I swear. She wanted me to tie her up. Before she turned into this. We’d been talking about zombies, and then…”

  Michael examined the girl in the bed. She pulled on her ropes, moving towards him. There was a blank look in her eyes. He took a step back. She was an amazing actor.

  “Where’d you get the contacts?” Sam asked. “They’re perfect.”

  “I’d better get the girls so they can see this,” Henry said. He didn’t leave the room.

  “Guys, you have to help me figure out what to do,” Kate said. There was panic in her voice. “Michael, please.”

  He leaned forward, inspecting the rope. Maybe she wanted him to play along. Take the joke a little further. “The knots are pretty good.”

  Jamie moved towards him, licking her lips. Even her tongue was dark.

  “I didn’t think you knew how to tie knots like this, Kate,” Michael said. He tried to pitch his voice so that only she could hear it. “You know how I like rope, and knots. Is that what you were doing?”

  “What?” she said. “I don’t. She did it. We were,” Kate let out a breath. “Well, shit. You know what we were doing.”

  “Hey, check this out,” Cameron said. He locked Jamie’s ankles together using his handcuffs. He climbed onto the bed and straddled her, sitting on her hips. She was straining against the rope to sit up. Her white-eyeball gaze was locked on Cameron. She winked, and pursed her lips.

  “She wants me,” Cameron said. “Michael, I knew you’d come through and introduce me to someone who could really appreciate me.”

  “Don’t!” Kate said. “This isn’t a fucking joke!” She grabbed Cameron’s arm, but he shrugged free.

  “I’m in love,” Cameron said.

  “Love,” Jamie said. She could make her voice sound amazingly deep.

  “Get off, Cameron,” Kate said.

  “I’m fin’ to get off, that’s for sure,” Cameron said, slipping into his Kanye voice. He ran his hands up Jamie’s stomach, cupping her breasts. “You cool with that?” he asked Jamie.

  She moaned. Her nipples were a deep red, maybe painted with lipstick. She wore enough black makeup to make her eyes appear to sink in her face.

  “We’d better take pictures,” Sam said. “Cameron, get off of her before you mess up her makeup.” He reached over and undid the handcuffs, freeing Jamie’s ankles.

  “Off!” Kate said. “Dude! Seriously.”

  “Her nipples are so hard,” Cameron said. “Holla, girl, can I get a holla back?”

  The woman tied to the bed did not holler back. She struggled to get closer to Cameron.

  “So, Kate, how much is Michael paying you and your friend to do this?” Henry said. “Because I’m going to have a party. Everyone can come as different kinds of zombies. Belly dancer zombies, zombies in hardhats and shit. You know how in the movies, the zombies are always, like, a naked chick, and a bloody bride, and a businessman, and a fat dude wearing a bathrobe and a stained wife-beater, and a kid in a baseball uniform. Like, to show that zombieism strikes equally across all demographics, when really it would probably be a group of people who were all in the same place at the same time. A common interest group. Like if Trader Joe’s were overrun and we’re all Hawaiian-shirted zombies…”

  “Dude,” Cameron interrupted. “You want to give us some privacy, or you want to see me whip it out?” He turned around to grin at the guys, and then moved his face towards the zombie’s. “I don’t want to mess up your makeup. I just want a quick—”

  “Cameron! No!” Kate screamed. She grabbed his arm and pulled. The zombie was biting him.

  Cameron howled and fell back onto the floor, holding his hand to his mouth. Blood seeped between his fingers.

  “Na funny,” Cameron said. “I don’t haf healf insuran’. You are hepin’ me wif da bill fo dis.”

  “Cam, are you okay?” Kate asked. She knelt.

  Cameron took his hand away from his mouth. Part of his lower lip was missing.

  In the silence, Kate said, “I told you guys. This isn’t a fucking joke.”

  The zombie in the bed was chewing. Michael took a step back, and then another. The rest of it he could believe as a joke, a joke that got steadily sicker, but not this. Cameron would have had to have been in on it, and he wasn’t this good of an actor. Michael closed his eyes and opened them. Reality hadn’t changed.

  “Why didn’t you tell us this was a real zombie?” Henry asked.

  “I tried!” Kate said.

  Sam bolted from the room, and shut himself in the bathroom. The door didn’t block the sound of his retching.

  Kate picked up the open bottle of wine from her desk, and took a sip. “We’d better clean you up, Cam,” she said tonelessly. “If there’s any hard alcohol left, will someone get it?”

  The bedroom door opened. Audrey and Natalie came in, each carrying tumblers of a mostly clear liquid. The ice had been used up hours ago.

  “Oh, my God. Cammy, what happened to you?” Audrey went to him, raised her hand to his face, but didn’t touch him.

  “We have to smash her head,” Henry said. “That’s the only way.”

  “No,” Kate said. “Jamie wasn’t hurting anyone until we got close. That’s her name, Jamie. If Cameron had treated her with respect, none of this would have happened.”

  “What’s going on?” Audrey asked. “Cammy, what did you do? Kate, um, why is your friend tied to your bed? And what’s with the makeup?”

  Jamie licked the blood from her lips and chin.

  Cameron pointed at Jamie. He looked scared.

  “I need to get some gauze.” Kate left the roo
m. “You explain,” she said to Michael as she passed.

  “I don’t know if we should hang out in here,” Michael said. Jamie was moaning.

  “We shouldn’t,” Henry said. “But Cameron’s infected now.”

  “We don’ know dat fo’ sho’,” Cameron said.

  “We should get you to a hospital,” Michael said. “Who’s sober enough to drive?”

  Henry shrugged. Natalie and Audrey both shook their heads, looking worried.

  “Damn,” Michael said. Cameron didn’t want to go to the hospital, anyway. Michael was reminded of their friend Rich telling him about how he’d had a bone spur in his foot, and had smashed it against the pavement in order to fix it. Rich hadn’t had health insurance, either.

  Kate came back into the room. She held a fresh bottle of Jack. Michael was glad that someone was thinking straight. It must be the Xanax. She pressed gauze over Cameron’s mouth. He fainted.

  “We need to wash this out,” Kate said. “We have to get him into the shower, and Sam’s in the bathroom. Michael, we have to use yours. Henry, hold this.” She handed him the bottle. Kate put her hands under Cameron’s armpits and started dragging him across the carpet. Cameron moaned softly. He was bleeding everywhere; the carpet would be ruined. A small, distant part of Michael observed that this would wipe out the security deposit.

  Jamie let out a low moan as the group left the room. Henry shut the door behind them.

  “Shouldn’t we, like, tie him up or something?” Henry said. “Isn’t he going to turn into a zombie now?”

  “What the hell’s going on?” Natalie asked. She was pale.

  “Your boy here done got himself bitten, and we’re trying to clean him up,” Michael said. He suspected, nauseatingly, that Henry was right; they should tie Cameron up. He picked up Cameron’s ankles and helped Kate move him. They maneuvered his head and shoulders into the shower. Kate took the bottle from Henry and uncapped it. “Alcohol’s an antiseptic,” she explained. She poured the booze over the side of Cameron’s face. “I’m sorry, Cameron,” she said softly.

  Cameron cried out, coughing and spitting. His eyes opened. “Ah, fuck, fuck,” he gurgled.

  “You OK?” Michael asked. “Dude?”

  “Ow,” Cameron said. He reached up to wipe his face. His eyes were watering. “Dat fucking hurts.”

  “I’m sorry, Cam, I had to. Here, try sitting up. Michael, a towel?” A mixture of blood and booze was dripping down Cameron’s shirt, coloring the white fabric.

  Michael gave her a hand towel from the rack. Cameron sat, leaning against the tile wall of the bathroom. Kate applied the towel to his lip. He flinched.

  “You’re going to be OK,” she said. “Faces and heads bleed a lot. And there’s a lot of germs in the human mouth. I just wanted to make sure it was disinfected. I know it stings.”

  “Fuck,” Cameron said.

  “Here, use this.” Audrey leaned over them, holding out a bag of frozen peas. “Stop the bleeding, at least.”

  Kate took it, wrapping it in the towel and applying it to Cameron’s face. She seemed so calm; like she knew what she was doing. She was glowing with sweat, a smear of blood on her cheek. It was disturbing, how attractive she was.

  “I don’ feel so good,” Cameron said. He sounded spacey, and he still wasn’t pronouncing consonants very well. The frozen peas on his face probably weren’t helping.

  “Do you want to go to the hospital?” Michael asked. “I can call for an ambulance. Just give me the word. There’s a fire station a few blocks away. They’ll be here fast.”

  “Naw, dude. Gimme a minute.”

  “We shouldn’t have let you climb on top of her,” Michael said softly. “It wasn’t cool.”

  “See, the bleeding’s slowing down,” Kate said. “Let’s just call you an ambulance, and get you taken care of. I’ll go with you. It’s going to be fine.”

  “No way,” Cameron said. He took a breath, let it out slowly. “Ah,” he said. His voice was deep. He looked at Kate, his eyes wet. “Momma,” he whispered. “Somefing’s happening.”

  Kate recoiled. She didn’t scream. She dropped the frozen peas, but managed to hold onto the towel. She gripped both ends of it, pushing the middle into Cameron’s mouth.

  “Shit, shit, shit. No,” Kate said. “Cameron. Say something. Stay with me.”

  “Uhh,” he said into the towel.

  Cameron’s eyes had gone white. He pushed his head towards Kate. She held the towel in his mouth. He reached both hands towards her face.

  “Michael, help,” Kate said. “Rope. Something.”

  Michael moved as fast as he could. He grabbed a length of rope from a drawer just outside the bathroom. “Natalie,” he called. “Help me get his hands.”

  Natalie shook her head, backing away.

  “Michael, hurry. Please.” The matter-of-factness in Kate’s voice nearly undid him. Cameron was touching her cheek. Michael was panicking. He tied one of Cameron’s hands to the shower door.

  “Fuck,” Michael said.

  “Ulh,” Kate said. Cameron had a grip on her throat with his free hand. He was trying to pull her closer. She held tight to the towel covering his mouth, trying to keep him at a distance.

  “Can we get some fucking help here? I need to get his other hand.” Michael shouted. He looked to his friends. They stood in the doorway, wearing identical expressions of bewilderment and fear.

  Audrey seemed to snap out of her trance. “Hey, Cameron, come here,” she said. She moved into the bathroom, waving her hand. “Cameron, babe, look at me.”

  Kate’s face started turning red.

  Audrey switched her whip, hitting herself in the ear. “Fuck,” she said. She lashed the whip, making it snap.

  Cameron looked at her. “Fuck,” he said, through the towel. He let go of Kate and reached towards Audrey. Blood ran down his chin.

  Kate fell back onto the floor, coughing and breathing hard. Cameron spat out the towel and smiled at Audrey. Michael hoped like hell that Audrey was going to keep distracting Cameron. He heard the whip snap.

  “Look at me, Cam,” Audrey cooed. She stayed outside of his reach. He strained towards her.

  Michael tied a length of rope to the shower door and made a clove hitch. Now he just had to get Cameron’s hand inside it. He took a breath, then lunged. Grabbed Cameron’s hand. Secured it next to the hand he’d already tied.

  Michael backed away, pulling Kate and Audrey with him. Cameron’s skin was turning gray. His teeth clicked together.

  Cameron had been right: something was happening.

  Kate coughed and spat. “Gag,” she said.

  “Seriously,” Michael said. “You OK? He looked like he really had you.” They stood, catching their breath.

  “I meant,” Kate said, “gag him. I know you’ve got something we can use.”

  Michael understood. “Not really. My gear is mostly blindfolds, feathers, and shit I got from the pet store. All the good stuff is expensive.” There were online catalogs full of it. Leather and metal. Gags and hoods and cuffs and rope. That’s what you really needed when the zombies came.

  Cameron’s tongue protruded from his mouth, licking at the air.

  “Plus I’m not touching him again,” Michael said. He didn’t realize he’d spoken until he heard it.

  Michael shut the bathroom door, leaving the light on for Cameron. It seemed like the least he could do. It was a pity that the bathroom door didn’t lock from the outside. “Fuck,” he said. “I need to sit down.” He could see haloes of light around people and objects. He moved to the living room, and his friends followed.

  “What happened in there?” Audrey said.

  “You ever seen Night of the Living Dead?” Michael asked.

  “Um.”

  “But you know what zombies are, right?”

  “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying,” she said. “Because we’re all high. This has to be a joke.” She giggled, as if to prove it.

 
They walked past Kate’s closed bedroom door. No one said anything.

  “What do we do now?” Natalie asked.

  “I’m going to sit,” Audrey said. There was the sound of couches sighing.

  Michael went into the kitchen. Kate followed him. They washed the blood from their hands with dish soap. The sink was full of plates.

  “Dude, how do you work your TV?” Natalie called. “We gotta check the news.”

  “Universal remote on the coffee table,” he said. He looked to Kate. She seemed small, after all of this. “Your cheek,” he said softly, pointing to his own face.

  Kate wiped at the wrong side.

  “No, I mean this side.” He raised his voice over the sound of the TV. “Like a mirror.” He hadn’t intended to touch her, but there was his hand, grazing her cheek. Her wet skin under his. His hand stayed there, longer than he had any right to. She didn’t push him away. They’d shared something in that bathroom. Now everything would change. The world was broken, and they were going to have to try and put it back together. He leaned over to kiss her. She stepped towards him, opening her arms and turning her face away. He put his arms around her, startled by how thin she was. He could feel the outline of her spine and ribs. Her shirt was still inside out. He wanted to pick her up and carry her away. He settled for kissing her neck.

  She pushed him away. “What was that about?” She dried her hands on her jeans. The blood was still on her cheek, smeared now.

  He shrugged, unable to explain. She’d held him close. He picked up a dishtowel and offered it to her. “Your cheek.”

  She wetted it under the tap, and brushed at her face. She looked as tired as he felt. “You didn’t gag him,” she said.

  “The ropes will hold.”

  “You should have gagged him.”

  “Why? What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

  She shook her head, moving away.

  He was ashamed that he’d raised his voice. “Sorry, Kate, I’m just... I don’t know what to do. Let’s go check out the news.” He went into the living room, as much to get away from her as to get to the TV.

  The space was large, as living rooms went, with three couches in a U shape facing the TV. Two of the walls were entirely windows, which he normally loved about the house. The view of the blossoms on the plum tree outside had been what had convinced him when he had been looking for a place to rent, though it cost more than he’d intended. Now the expanse of windows seemed like a dangerous oversight. There was no way to board them up, even if he had any wood. The plum-tree side of the house didn’t matter, because you needed a ladder to access those windows from the outside, but the other wall had a deck built right outside. He locked the sliding glass door and turned on the outside lights, half-expecting to see a crowd of the living dead standing there. The deck was empty, save for the picnic table. He thought about bringing it inside, using it to barricade the windows. That would probably be overreacting. The zombies were inside the house, anyway.