by Russ Watts
Jonas raised the axe. They needed supplies, and his unborn child was going to need more than good wishes to survive. Dakota needed help, vitamins, and would more than likely need something to ease the childbirth. He could smash the lock open, grab the drugs, and get out of the store before anything found them.
“Fuck it.”
Jonas brought the axe down on the padlock, and it smashed open instantly. There was a tremendous banging sound, but it was over in a second, and he rolled up the grill quickly. The cupboard was locked by a smaller padlock, and Jonas used the axe blade to cleave it open. He pulled apart the cupboard doors and found himself looking at row after row of vials, bottles, and packets of pills.
“Bingo.” Jonas smiled and began shoving as much as he could into paper bags that lay nearby. When he had filled as much as he could carry, he went back to the counter. He placed the bags down and noticed the internal door was open. Gabe must’ve got it open.
“Gabe?” Jonas whispered, and then he realized that with all the noise he’d made, there was little point in whispering anymore. “Gabe?” he called again, louder, but there was no reply.
Jonas jumped over the counter once more, and leaving the drugs safely where they were, he checked out the open door. Jonas found himself staring at a carpeted stairway cloaked in darkness.
“Gabe, come on, let’s go.” Jonas waited for a reply, but heard nothing. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he began to realize something had gone wrong. Surely, Gabe would answer if he could? What if the place hadn’t been empty? What if Gabe had found someone up there?
With one foot on the bottom step, Jonas considered his options. Go in and face whatever Gabe had found, or retreat back to the van and get help. There seemed little point in going back to get the others. It would just waste more time, and so Jonas began walking up the stairs. He listened carefully for noises, for a clue as to Gabe’s whereabouts, but the building was quiet. The steps creaked as he climbed them, and he gripped the axe in his hands. As he neared the top and saw another open door, he broke out in a cold sweat. There was that unmistakable odor as he neared the upper floor, the smell of foulness, evil, and death that everyone had grown accustomed to recently.
The stairway led into a hallway, and Jonas made out four doors in the darkness. The upper floor was furnished with pictures of birds on the walls, and a small side table with a vase full of brown, dead flowers. As Jonas ventured further into the house, he had no idea which room to try first. Gabe could be anywhere. Every step he took was agony as the silence was replaced with the creaking of an old floorboard.
Something fluttered in his face, and he brushed it away, aware that his breathing was becoming more rapid. It’s just a moth, he told himself, and he waved his hand in front of his face to clear the stale air. He told himself to cool it, to focus on finding Gabe, and not panic. Jonas peered into the first doorway and could make out the shape of a toilet. The room was small, containing nothing more than a toilet and a hand basin. Clearly Gabe wasn’t there, so Jonas continued on. He paused by the side-table. Brittle petals from the dead flowers crunched under his feet, and he noticed a photograph on the wall showing a young couple on their wedding day. They were happy, kissing, and drenched in sunlight. Jonas took the frame in his hand and placed it back on the table facedown. Those times were over.
The second door was wide open, and Jonas stopped, looking at the double bed that lay beyond. Two figures lay on the bedspread, and Jonas gripped his axe, ready to strike should they rise. Flies hummed above them, and as Jonas took a step into the room, the figures lay perfectly still. They were dead. Their skin was drawn tight around their stiff bodies, and flowing hair draped itself around their heads. The figure on the left wore a suit and tie, and it looked as if the person to the right wore a wedding dress. It was a faded cream color, and there was a bouquet of crisp long-stemmed roses atop the woman’s chest. Jonas noticed that they were holding hands, inseparable even in death, and he let his axe fall to his side. God, what had happened here that had made them do this? Why would they not run? Why would they not at least try? Jonas felt anger rising up inside him again. He was not going to let this beat him. He was not going to end up like them, giving up. He had too much fight left in him, and he turned back to the hallway.
“Gabe, where in hell are you?”
Jonas stormed angrily from the bedroom and pushed back the third door to find an empty room. It was an office cum spare room, full of cobwebs and clutter, but no Gabe. Moving on, Jonas entered the final room. Shrouded in darkness, he saw Gabe at last, standing over something in the middle of the room.
“Gabe, what is it?”
Javier shook his head, but could say nothing.
Jonas could sense something was wrong, and he joined Gabe. When he saw what Gabe was looking at his anger subsided, and suddenly he understood why those people had done what they had done. There were two wooden cribs before him, their headboards decorated with painted animals and stuffed toys. One crib had a smiling tiger holding a sign that read ‘Jon,’ and the other an elephant with its trunk curled around a board that read ‘Matthew.’ Inside the cribs, beneath white and cream blankets, lay two small, still bodies. Tiny hands poked above the sheets, perfectly formed, yet blue and rigid. Jon and Matthew’s eyes were closed, and they looked peaceful, as if they were still asleep. It was clear they were dead, and their shrunken bodies were almost as small as the stuffed animals that surrounded them.
Jonas put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“They never stood a chance.” Javier rested his hands on Jon’s crib. “I wish I could’ve been here sooner. Maybe then I could’ve done something, could’ve helped. Maybe…”
Jonas remembered that Gabe was looking for his brother, and these two poor boys were probably a stark reminder that the line between life and death was thin.
“Let’s go,” said Jonas again. “There’s nothing we can do for them now.” The house was just a dead-end. Jonas would rather be facing an army of zombies than looking so closely at the death of innocents.
Javier trudged from the room with Jonas behind him. Seeing those boys abandoned like that, not even given a decent funeral, was disgusting. He was glad the parents were dead. If they weren’t, he would’ve made them pay. Men and women got together, fucked, married, divorced, remarried, and tried all sorts of rituals to make them prove to themselves that they were close, together forever. The truth is, they were strangers trying to avoid loneliness. The real closeness, that real understanding, could only come from blood, from being sisters or brothers. Diego was so close, yet so far away. Seeing those two little babies, never given a chance at life, never given an opportunity to get to know one another, was cruel. Javier was more determined than ever to find Diego now. To hell with the others. They had wasted enough time in this town, and they hadn’t got anything to show for it. It was more than past time to hit the road.
“Hamsikker, we should… Shit, where’s the van?”
They left the house of death and ventured back outside into the sunlight, only to find the campervan gone.
“What the hell is going on?” asked Javier. He thought he could trust Rose to take care of things while he was inside, but it seemed he had taken her for granted too.
“There,” said Jonas, pointing across the street. The van was parked on the other side of the road, in the shade of the canopy of the hotel.
“What are they doing? Why the hell did they move?” Javier began jogging over to the van, aware that they wouldn’t have moved without good reason.
As they got closer, Jonas saw Dakota, and whilst he was relieved to see she was okay, there was concern spread over her face. Quinn was pacing up and down and looking worried. Erik and Terry had beaten them back and were deep in conversation with Pippa.
“Hamsikker, we’ve got trouble,” said Erik.
“Where’s Mara?” Javier looked around the van, but she wasn’t there. She wouldn’t have upped and left him, so where the hell
was she?
“Mrs. Danick decided she wanted to check out this hotel,” said Pippa. She looked back at the hotel, its open doorway looking like an invitation into hell. It was dark inside, and there was a dead body in the doorway. Blood was splashed over the sidewalk outside the entrance. “Rose tried to stop her, we all did, but she was adamant she had time to check it out before you would be back.”
“And you let her go?” asked Jonas. He dropped the bags of medication he had picked up in the store into the van.
“We didn’t just let her go. There really was no way of stopping her short of tying her up and throwing her in the van.” Dakota looked at Jonas. She was pushing her hair behind her ears, her fingers shaking nervously. “Jonas, we have to find her.”
“How long’s she been gone?” Jonas looked at the hotel. It was no Hilton, but it was big enough for someone to get lost in very quickly, especially in the dark.
“Where is Mara?” asked Javier again slowly and loudly. He approached the hotel doorway, sizing it up. Mrs. Danick was welcome to go off exploring on her own. He would happily leave her behind given the chance, and if he could find Rose, that’s exactly what they were going to do. He fingered his gun nervously. He was over this. Too many things were going wrong. Diego was his little brother, and these morons were holding him back. He had been wrong to think he could control them.
“She went in almost as soon as you left us,” said Pippa. “She said she would be back in five minutes, tops, but it’s been way longer than that. Erik, what if something’s happened to her? Like with Peter? What if…”
Pippa began crying, and she looked like she was about to faint. Erik caught her and gently lowered her to the sidewalk. “Sit here. We’ll get her, okay? She’ll be fine.”
“There’s something else,” said Quinn.
“Jesus fucking Christ, where is Mara? Are you all deaf?” Javier marched up to Dakota. “Where is she, or so help me God…”
“I don’t know where she is,” replied Dakota calmly. She looked at Gabe and spoke with a weary resignation in her voice. “She went in after Mrs. Danick. She said she would bring her back.”
“Fuck. And you’ve not seen anything since they went in?”
“Hey, Gabe, calm down, there’s no need to take this out on Dakota.”
Javier stared at Hamsikker. It would be so easy to end it now. The Pulaski felt good in his hands, and it would be so easy to take Hamsikker’s head off with one blow. It would be over quickly. He could shoot the others, get Rose, and leave them all to die in this Godforsaken town. No, he was going to need help finding Rose if she was in that hotel somewhere. He bit his cheek, drew in a breath, and lowered his voice. He had forgotten that Gabe was supposed to be easy-going. If he was going to ask for their help one last time, he was going to have to be sweet old Gabe for just a little longer.
“I’m sorry. I’m just so worried about Mara. Hamsikker, we’re going to have to go in there. We can’t sit around here waiting for them. What if they’re in trouble, or trapped? I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Mrs. Danick.”
“Guys, whatever we do, we need to do it fast.” Quinn stood in the road and pointed south, to where they had driven into town from. “They’re coming.”
Jonas looked and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Hundreds, if not thousands of zombies were all heading into town. They were no more than a mile away. So many outstretched arms, so many faces contorted by death, all attached to shuffling bodies with mouths hanging open, blood dripping over swollen, black tongues.
There was a scream from inside the hotel and then two short bangs. Jonas peered at the doorway of the hotel, and from the dry shadows that enveloped the main doors, a figure slowly emerged. A zombie stumbled out into the sunlight, and Pippa screamed. The man was dressed in black pants with a white shirt, and his curly black hair was matted with dried blood. Pippa screamed again as the dead man lunged for her, and Erik batted him away with the hammer. The blow knocked the zombie sideways into the side of the campervan, and Jonas watched as Freya jumped out.
“Freya, get inside, now!” Erik shouted at his daughter as he lunged for the zombie once again, armed with the rusty hammer and a belly full of hate.
Erik grabbed the zombie, and pounded his hammer into the man’s temple, smashing the skull in until the man was still.
“Pippa, Erik, you okay?” Jonas rushed back, his axe poised for action, but the zombie was down.
“Yeah, I just…” Erik looked around at the sidewalk, his eyes wide with fear. “Pippa, where’s Freya?”
“She’s with you, isn’t she? In the van?”
Jonas knew Freya wasn’t in the van, nor was she on the road. “Quinn, Dakota, you see her?” He looked at their faces but was met with bewilderment and confusion.
“In there.” Javier raised his gun, and pointed toward the hotel before speaking. “She ran inside, just like you told her.”
Erik raised his hammer, fresh blood dripping from the end. “And you just fucking let her?”
Javier felt like smiling, but he had antagonized Erik enough. He knew he could only push it so far. Still, when Freya had darted into the hotel, nobody else had seen her, and Javier was pleased that the group was splintering. Javier had just about had enough of the lot of them. Now the pig was going to suffer, and Javier hadn’t had to lift a finger.
“Freya? Freya!” Erik stood in the doorway, calling for her, but there was no reply.
“Freya, come on back,” shouted Terry. “Erik, I’m sorry, I should’ve been watching her, but with all the commotion, I just…”
“Forget it, Terry. She’s probably scared. We’ll get her,” said Jonas. “She can’t have gone far.”
“Look, maybe we should think about going,” said Javier.
Jonas was incredulous that Gabe would even contemplate it. “What about Freya? Mrs. Danick? Your wife? You want to just take off?”
“Well, maybe we could draw the zombies away, and give them a fighting chance. If we stay here and we don’t get them out of the hotel in the next three minutes, then we’re going to have thousands of zombies on our tails. Then none of us are getting out of here.” Javier was half-serious. He knew they would never go for it, but it was going to be interesting to see how they reacted.
Jonas stared at Gabe. One minute he was his best friend, the next minute he was coming out with crazy shit like that. “We’re not going anywhere. You want a time out, you feel free. I’m through trying to help you. We’ve tried, really we have, and I thought maybe you were on our side. I don’t get you, Gabe.
“Quinn, I want you to take Dakota and Pippa in the van. Circle back around, try to lure as many of the dead away as possible. Just try to give us a little more time, okay?”
Dakota jumped into the van with Quinn, and Pippa stood mournfully looking at the hotel.
“Go with them, honey,” said Erik. “I’ll get Freya, I promise.”
Pippa reluctantly got into the van, and Quinn instantly roared off, heading for the army of zombies on the edge of town.
Jonas clenched his axe and looked at Erik’s hammer. It would have to do. “Gabe, give Terry the axe. We all need to be armed if we’re going in there. I know you don’t have bullets left, but you can beat the hell out of something with that gun of yours if it comes to it.”
Terry took the Pulaski from Gabe, and the four men stared into the darkness beyond.
“I’ll go with Erik and head upstairs. Terry and Gabe, I want you to check out the ground floor.” Jonas felt the weight of the axe in his hands. He wasn’t sure what lay waiting for them inside, but there was no putting it off any longer. “Be as quick as you can, but don’t leave any rooms unchecked. Right, let’s move.”
All four of them ran into the dark hotel, wondering what they were going to find, hoping they would at least find someone alive. Javier was only concerned with looking for Rose, but the others were focused on finding Freya.
As they crossed the threshold of the hotel thei
r shadows were swallowed up, and the odor of death hit them. No sooner had they stepped inside, than the screaming started again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The hotel was glum, and even if they needed a bed for the night, Jonas wouldn’t have wanted to stay there. It was depressing to see how badly kept the place was. Fifty years ago it had probably been a nice stop on the way north or south, a comfortable, cozy place attended to by friendly staff; a place you could stay for the night in true comfort to experience some true small-town hospitality. Now that the zombies had taken over, it seemed appropriate somehow that the dead were in charge. The walls were coated in greasy paint that had been badly applied, leaving track marks down the walls and painted different colors in places. The skirting boards were chipped, and the numbers on the doors hung lopsided.
At the top of the staircase lay a body. So much of it had been eaten away that there was little left on the bones to identify if it had been a man or a woman, and Jonas and Erik sidestepped it quickly. Tattered pieces of rotten flesh still clung to the yellow bones, and the carpet around the body was sticky. As soon as they had passed by the body, they looked ahead at the row of doors facing them, and it became apparent they weren’t alone. Soft thumping noises came from within the hotel, and they looked at each other.
