Taking on the Dead

by Annie Walls

  “Shit!” I automatically grab for its head, but my hand goes through like thick, soggy mud – the skull crumples in like hard potato chips. The smell turns my stomach, and my throat burns from stomach acid. From the impact of my hand, the thing stops moving. Kicking and crawling, violent tremors wrack my body by the time I make it around the car. Rudy’s boots come into my line of vision as I puke out everything in my stomach, plus some. A gooey substance covers my hand, and an inspection of it brings me back over, spewing again.

  A strong hand grabs my chin, making me look at him. Rudy’s calm, but alert when he asks, “What happened?”

  My harsh breathing causes my voice to be unsteady. “Putrid...between the cars...bit me.” His own breathing stops before coming out making his chest rise and fall quickly as his eyes rapidly scan my body, finally landing on my ankle. Glancing down at my pants leg, it has putrid goo all over it. My shaking hands try to lift my jeans to peer at it, but my vision swims.

  I gasp for breath as my heart booms in my chest – my new reality dawns on me. I’m going to die. Maybe I should ask someone to go ahead and shoot me, to make it quick. No way I want to be a zombie, trapped in my decomposing body with an uncontrollable urge to eat people. Maybe I should save them all the grief and shoot myself. I can finally be with Malachi again. This thought makes me start dry-heaving. A cacophony of voices drift to me as I pick out someone saying, “Panic attack.” With my heartbeat pulsing in my ears, I try to take a deep breath.

  Lying flat, I will myself to focus on a blade of grass. It’s green, one of the colors in Rudy’s eyes. Being long and going straight up to a point, it’s a blade of grass that you can make whistling sounds with if you put it between your hands.

  “Kan! Are you okay?” It sounds far away, turning to see who it is, I realize people watch me in horror. My boots are jerked off, and then my pants go with them. My pants? Looking down, Rudy studies my bare legs. My stomach churns as I put my back in the grass, willing myself to calm down.

  Clammy hands touch my face as Mac comes into view. His lips move, “Kan! Can you hear me?” He looks worried, and I take a deep breath. I can breathe through the passing anxiety.

  “Yeah, I panicked,” I manage, but my voice stills sounds distant.

  “Kan, there’s no bite, Darlin’,” Rudy says, rubbing my ankles. I sit up, looking my ankles over myself. Nothing.

  “What the hell? It bit me, I know it did! I saw it,” I exclaim as Mac hobbles between the cars, and bends over to lift the corpse head. The scalp slides off making the head plunk down, and Mac jumps away from it, throwing the rotten scalp away. A mirthless laugh escapes him before he peers closely at the putrid’s face.

  Mac shakes his head and walks back to us. Letting out a breath he says, “Kan, there aren’t any teeth.” He squats next to me, and takes my face in both hands. “You’re okay, I promise. No coming back from the dead for you.” His eyes show relief, and he kisses me on the mouth quickly. The public display surprises me, but I give him a small smile anyway.

  After I feel well enough to stand, I put my boots back on. I leave my jeans. I don’t want them anymore. Seeing the zombie bite my leg sets many things into perspective for me. Everyone seems relieved the episode is over, no one more so than me, though.

  A hand falls on my shoulder. Reece smiles, “I’m glad I don’t have to shoot you.” I take his statement for the compliment it is, which says he likes me as a person enough not to let me turn. Glinda frets over me needlessly, and helps me back to the truck after warning everyone else to be careful.

  ***

  I find one of Rudy’s hoodies in the vault after sitting on the bench with no pants on for an hour. It’s larger than mine and covers my tush. By this time, everyone gets ready to leave. We ride back in silence. Mac doesn’t say much to me. It turns out the activity wasn’t good for him, because his wounded bum is bleeding. Rudy gets us back to the community quickly.

  Stomping through the courtyard in only the hoodie, panties, and boots, I get a few catcalls from the rooftops, as if I’m walking the walk of shame. I display both my naughty fingers the whole way. This only seems to make it worse, and I can’t help laughing, more for joyous relief than in jest. I’m alive.

  ***

  The first thing I do after helping Mac with his wound is take a long shower – a shower that consists of crying, laughing, and several revelations. Laughing, as I get to live my life at least until the next day. Crying because anything can happen at any time. Crying some more because I’ve gotten careless. If I wasn’t joking around, it wouldn’t have happened. Laughing and reveling because I don’t regret it, and I wouldn’t change it even if that fucking zombie had bitten me.

  ***

  Rudy waits in the corridor for me. Feeling better now that I’m clean and have on fairly clean clothes (I still haven’t found time to wash any), he stands up from his crouching position on the wall to meet me.

  “You had a panic attack?” he asks simply.

  I nod, “First one in a while. I didn’t even realize I was having one.” I bite my lip, and start walking past him.

  He grabs my wrist, “That really scared me. I’ve seen it plenty, everyone has, but thinking you were bit…”

  “It’s okay, Rudy. I’d feel the same about you,” I meet his gaze.

  “I know… You and Mac…” he prompts.

  I just shrug, because I don’t know. Pulling me in for a brief hug, he smells good, like worn leather, with a fresh citrusy scent, and motor oil.

  After he steps away, he smiles, giving me a rare glimpse of those dimples. “Mac is a good guy, Kan.”

  “I know.”

  “No more getting bit by zombies. With or without teeth.” I glance up at him, and his eyes laugh at me.

  My small laugh echoes through the hallway. “I’ll try. See you around.”

  I walk down the corridor hating how our easy friendship is no longer simple. That happens when you hold things back. Rudy’s easy acceptance of it boils my blood, knowing I’ll always have a soft spot for him. After everything he’s done for me, at least I know he’ll always have a soft spot for me, too.

  I’m almost out of the building when I spot Glinda in a doorway fighting with Candy. Big surprise. “Wut yew lookin’ at bitch?” Candy asks me. Wait a minute. I’ve never spoken two words to this woman.

  “Yew just shut tha fuk up,” Glinda snarls, shoving Candy in the door. Candy falls backward because of the shoes she wears, and Glinda slams the door shut. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, Suga. Fukkin slut!” she yells toward the door so Candy can hear. She puts her hands on my shoulders and looks into my face. “Just be happy, Suga. Today should make yew see. Even though Mac an asshole.” Her lips purse.

  I get that impression by the way he interacts with other people. “He’s not to me.”

  She looks back to where Rudy and I have just been, and I guess she overheard our conversation. “But he’s got jarhead, jerk-face-fuk written all over ‘im.” She looks down. “I know he ain’t to yew, so like I said, be happy and live, Suga,” she says in a softer tone and leaves me in the corridor.

  I open the door to the courtyard, realizing I don’t have anywhere to go. Fuck me sideways.

  Chapter 25

  The next few weeks pass in a blur, teaching people to hotwire, helping Mac with his booth, playing Texas Hold’em for extra cash, side looting jobs with Reece, and long nights in the vault. Mac helped me with techniques to maim someone with my bare hands. I secretly hope I don’t have to use them – not confidant enough in my skills. We help Guido with the famished, which are plentiful in the growing cold.

  Mac moves around better, and practices bow shooting with me whenever he gets the chance. He’s learned about my love of running, so we do that too, having to make adjustments to accommodate his slower pace. Sometimes Rudy and Glinda join us. Glinda obsesses over taking care of her body and enjoys having workout partners. I also found out about the workout room in an office just under Guido’s loft, where
Sam spends most of his time, hence his huge upper body.

  The teams start getting restless and want action, but Reece insists on waiting until we’re able to make a successful bomb. I don’t mind, since I use the time to practice. The situation could get dangerous if we told the team about the bombs without knowing how they will turn out. The team thinks we’re waiting, per Guido’s request, for the weather to get colder. If it’s cold and we break up thousands of zombies at the base, then they would possibly migrate here in search of food – exactly what Guido wants.

  Reece and I keep our looting very quiet because we don’t want Guido to know, or we’d have to do his bidding. We pick up everything from ammunition, to clothing. We stock up on all kinds of chemicals for amateur explosives, and search through several old bookstores, only finding a few reference books. Nothing coming close to what my dad had. I’ve gotten better with my guns, and even have my own shoulder holster. I’m not a pro, but getting good. Reece says it has something do to with me shooting a crossbow. I doubt this, but never argue.

  While obtaining this really cool belt I can stick just about anything in, mostly my magazines and some knives, I find a new pair of boots and I’m breaking them in. They are soft tan leather with a rounded toe, thick soles, and they go up mid-calf with soft scrunches. These boots are zombie-bashing, kick-ass, chic boots. Best part is they don’t feel like boots, being made for comfort.

  Besides the boots, clothing is a priority too. I’ve had the same stuff for over four years, so I’m loading up on jeans, T-shirts, and hoodies. Although, I have been doing my laundry hand wash style, it’s nice to have new things after such a long time.

  Reece teaches me to ride a motorcycle just in case I ever need to drive one. He also talks me into a tattoo, saying he loves a virgin canvas. I end up with an arrow with bird feather fletching on my hipbone.

  Mac’s been getting suspicious of me being gone for hours at a time, so here I am, telling him what we’re up to. I’m surprised it took him this long to figure it out. He keeps secrets, too. I’ve just been too busy to contemplate it.

  “What?” he asks slowly, in disbelief. It’s comical how dumbfounded he looks, his eyes all wide. “You can make bombs?”

  I fidget under his appraisal. “No. I’m not an expert, and I’ve been relying mostly on faint memory. It’s the agreement Reece and I made.”

  “So, you’ve been out on the town shopping for clothes and weird chemicals?” he asks, getting his facts straight.

  “Pretty much, yeah. I needed clothes, and I didn’t want to buy any.”

  “You have more than enough money to buy some. Why endanger yourself?”

  “I need the money to stock up on moonshine and fresh food. Besides, I got you a few things.” I toss him some fresh white T-shirts, they’re his forte, and he makes them look really good. I don’t bother to tell him about the famished we run into on our trips.

  He grins and comes to delve through my stash. “I was wondering where you got the boots.”

  I laugh, “You know they’re sexy.”

  He peers sideways at me. “You have no idea.” Picking up a white bandana, he arches a brow at me.

  I clear my throat and try not to jerk it out of his hand. “It’s for Rudy. I figure he might want a new one.” He gives me a strange look, and when I catch his eye, he looks everywhere but at me. “It’s not like that, you know? We’re good friends,” I assure him with a smile and a squeeze of his hand, suddenly glad I put the guitar picks in my pack.

  He sighs, “It’s not that.” Throwing the pack of white T-shirts on his bed, he says, “If you’re friends, he won’t mind you staying in here.”

  Mac isn’t the loop of me sleeping in Rudy’s truck. No one is but me.

  “He already thinks I’m sleeping in here, Mac.”

  In contemplation, he stares at me. “Then where are you sleeping?”

  “Sharing a room with Glinda,” I say quickly. If he knows I’m sleeping in the vault, outside the fence, in the cold, he’ll put up a fight.

  Sitting on his bed, he smiles wide. “Rudy thinks you’re sleeping in here, huh?” I nod. “Why would he think that?” His face darkens slightly. “Did he come on to you?”

  “What? No. Rudy’s never touched me in an out of line way.” Only his gaze. I glare at the way he looks relieved. “Besides, even if he did, it wouldn’t be your business.”

  “What?” he jumps to his defense. “It should be my business.”

  Crossing my arms and feeling smug I ask, “So, it should be my business about you. Right?”

  Blue eyes glance around the room, before he shrugs, “Yeah.”

  “You wouldn’t have any problem admitting to sleeping with any of the ‘working girls’ here?”

  His face automatically screws up in disgust. “No. I can’t believe you think that!” A thought dawns across his face in some kind of understanding. “Oh, that’s why you’re being so stand-offish. Mighty presumptuous of you.”

  “Maybe so, but you were too.”

  “Okay, that’s fair. Now that we’re all cleared up...” He stands, coming up to look down at me, although, looking down is a bit of a stretch, since I’m eye level with his mouth.

  I laugh, “You’re short.”

  Unfazed, a smile spreads across his face. “Doesn’t affect performance.”

  “Hmmm...we’ll see about that,”

  His smile grows wider, brightening his eyes, but he turns serious. “Next time, just ask. Anything. I’ll tell you, okay?”

  Once I nod, he changes the subject, “We going to the tables?” he asks, his voice hopeful. He’s been playing poker with me lately. At first, he thought it was a waste, my playing, until he found out about my poker face. Now, he plays for fun. I’ve run off a couple of other regulars after winning their money.

  “I’m not on the rounds for famished watch. I need some fun,” I reply, a little excited to put my mind off things.

  Especially since tomorrow night, Guido’s throwing a Monster Bash. Mac told me they have one ever so often. A couple of days ago a woman named Lucy was bitten by a chained famished. She got too close by accident. They asked her what she wanted to do, giving her a choice between becoming famished or not. She decided for it, so they locked her in a cage to complete her change. Now they’re throwing a Monster Bash in her honor. It’s atrocious. I tried to talk her out of it. She wanted to give back, she told me quite stubbornly. She would make her debut as one of Guido’s arts, while everyone else gets smashed.

  Usually, it takes very little time to change and it depends on how you’re bitten. If you have a big chunk of your arm eaten, then it would only take a few hours, sometimes minutes. A bite can take a few days. It also depends on the person. I’ve seen someone change within an hour, while sitting, stupidly, in the hospital with Malachi. It could explain why there are different kinds of zombies. Makes sense, but I need to know for sure.

  Lucy’s the topic of talk, but I don’t want to talk about Lucy, or go to the Monster Bash. It’s just an excuse for everyone to party. Doesn’t matter that they do it every night.

  After the poker game, Reece tells me about his success with a pipe bomb, practicing on famished miles away from the community. He motions for a drink at the bar, and grins from ear to ear, wearing a black thermal shirt under his vest. Blue-gray eyes twinkling with mischief, he looks like a kid on Christmas morning. Sometimes he reminds me of myself. He thinks the same of me, telling me once he’s surprised we’re not related in some way.

  “That’s awesome,” I say with actual envy. “I wish I was there to see it.”

  “Me too!” Mac pipes in, and Reece looks at me like he didn’t mean for him to overhear.

  Giving Reece a knowing look, I say, “He knows. He was asking too many questions, and I didn’t want to lie.” He seems relieved he wasn’t the one who let it spill.

  Reece continues in his excitement, “Yeah, you both should have seen it. It was like Disneyland fireworks!”

  I laugh, “W
ell, I’m glad you didn’t blow yourself –”

  “Suga!” Glinda interrupts, rushing over. “Yew got to let me help yew dress up tomorrow!” She has hopeful eyes, but I shake my head. She holds my arm with both hands, wearing her blonde hair straight tonight. Without the curls, it’s exceptionally long and shiny resting on her breasts, which are covered up for a change. Her red glossy lips bring out the blue in her eyes.

  “No way, I’m not even going. It’s stupid Lucy wants to be that way.”

  “Oh! Yew know that ain’t ‘bout her.” She waves my comment away. I peek at Mac and he takes a sip of moonshine, but not before I see his delight at this turn in conversation. I shrug at Glinda, and she squeals like a pig. “I’ll see yew tomorrow, Suga. We got lots of work to do.” She struts off.

  I glance at Reece and Mac, “I’ll take her parting comment as a compliment. It probably will be lots of work to make me look like a hooker.” They both laugh in agreement. I’m probably going to regret it, a lot. Mac still tries to cover the gleam in his eyes.

  ***

  Using the side door outside the fence, I have to shoot a few famished. The community treats them like pesky flies. It still amazes me how nonchalant they are about them. Zombies are very dangerous. All it would take is a large enough number on the right day. Bam! Community gone. I head into the working girls building where still Rudy stays. He had a fight last night, so he is laying low. I’m on a mission to get him out because Reece wants to meet with everyone for last minute announcements to leave for the base in a few days.