Dead Soil: A Zombie Series

by Alex Apostol

  Christine extended an arm and wrapped it around Sally’s shoulders so her new friend could cry into her neck. Liam gave her free hand a squeeze.

  Everyone waited in silence for Ralph to say his last words. He held Lilly in his arms so she faced over his shoulder, away from the mound of bodies. She bounced and wiggled to get down. Ralph remained silent and nodded his head so lightly that it could have been the pounding of his heart that made it move.

  All those times his mother-in-law had made him sit with her in the mornings and sip tea as she talked endlessly about God knows what, he thought he was being tortured. Now that he’d never drink tea with her again, he realized he’d grown to like it somehow. And now that she was gone, he’d miss it forever.

  “I’ll never drink tea again,” he said with a weak laugh.

  Zack and Jerry chuckled quietly, as the others let the corners of their mouths twitch upward with benign smiles.

  Ralph sniffed and took a few steps away from the fence to stand next to his wife, who turned from Christine to bury her face in his chest. She sobbed harder at the soft touch of her daughter’s hand as it patted the top of her head.

  “May they rest in peace,” Zack said. He backed away from the small, enclosed park as the summer breeze picked up again and the stench from the bodies washed over him. The smell of rotting, baking flesh overwhelmed his nostrils. He lifted the collar of his shirt over his nose.

  Lilly let out a shrieking wail as she flung her body back against her dad’s arms, which held her close to him.

  On the other side of the fence, several hands reached their fingertips over the top. One gripped down on the wood and tried to pull. There was a loud creak as it bent slightly from the force. It had been going on for days. Each morning there were a few more fingertips grasping for what was on the other side.

  “It’s not safe out here,” Luke Benson said as he shook his head back and forth. He started to walk off back to the apartment building. “We shouldn’t be out here.”

  Zack jogged after him and blocked his way. “Show some respect.” He gestured his arm to the dogpile of unmoving corpses. “That was her mother. The fences will hold. They can’t get in. Man up for once in your life.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asked. Even though he felt a twinge of guilt, he still had the urge to stand his ground, but Zack towered over his short frame and made him feel two feet tall.

  “It means you’re a pussy. You run when you should be fighting. Don’t think for one second I didn’t see you cowering in the hall while the rest of us were in there doing what we had to do to keep this place safe for everyone else!”

  “You don’t even know me!” Luke yelled as the anger rose inside him.

  “I know you.”

  “Oh yeah? Whaddaya know about me?”

  “I know you’re living here while some other guy raises your daughter and sleeps with your wife.”

  There was a collective gasp as the others watched from the shade of the Crabapple tree.

  Luke closed the gap between them. His round face turned up to gawk Zack’s. His dark eyes glared with an intensity he could never match physically.

  They cussed at each other irrationally, their voices rising hirer with each swear.

  “Shut up! Both of you!” Sally yelled as her face streaked with tears. She had nothing to follow up with. She only wanted a bit of silence to mourn her mother for a few minutes longer.

  The echoes of her voice faded out and deflated the tension. Zack and Luke both turned to her. Her face was scrunched into an ugly mess of tears. Zack sneered at Luke, clucked his tongue, and stalked off to stand next to Liam and Christine.

  Luke was left alone in the open grassy area. On one side of the fence the undead beat to get in and on the other side, the building where he took shelter. “We need to leave here,” he said in an even tone. He stood with one hand on his hip while the other pointed a finger out to the group.

  “We’re not leaving,” Liam said coolly.

  “Yeah. This is our home,” Zack agreed. He tightened his eyes on Luke. “We need to protect it and ourselves. Not run away like a bitch with nowhere to go.”

  Luke laughed at the sky with his hands on his hips. When he was done, he stared down at his loafers and kicked at the ground. He knew he wouldn’t stand a chance if it came to a fight. He had the muscles, but Zack had his sword sheathed and slung over his back. It wasn’t worth it. Surviving was his number one concern. His daughter and ex-wife were waiting for him. They had to be.

  “He’s right,” Liam said. “Our best chance is here. We can seal it off. It’s already gated. That will limit the number of dead that can make their way in. We’ve already cleaned out our own building so it’ll be easier to maintain it, keep it cleared and safe. Eventually we can push out to the other buildings, see if there are any other survivors, and help them to clear out as well. We can make this a thriving community if we don’t give up on it.” He let go of Christine’s hand and took a few steps out to the middle of the group.

  “So now we’re cleaning everyone else’s mess? Saving everyone else’s lives while we put our own at risk? Well, you can count me out,” Luke said in a fluster. “No way. I did my part. I’m done.”

  “You’ll do what you’re told,” Zack spat from behind Liam.

  Christine and Sally stood closer together. Lilly’s arms draped around her mother’s neck as she rested her head on her shoulder. Ralph was a few paces in front of them with his arms folded. He looked over his shoulder repeatedly at the bodies behind them.

  Jerry avoided looking at everyone all together, his eyes focused on the gray fingers that reached longingly over the fence.

  Luke chuckled under his breath again and clapped his hands together. “And who put Prince Charles in charge?”

  “Prince Charles?” Liam said with a wrinkled nose. “That’s a little insulting. I’m at least a Prince William, or Harry…” his voice trailed off. “Beside the point. We’re staying here. We have to. There’s too many people freshly turned into these things walking around out there. We’d never make it. We need to work together to keep this place safe. If you want to leave, we can’t stop you.”

  Luke’s eyes widened.

  “But we’d like you to stay.”

  Luke tapped his foot, sending his body into a fit of bouncing as he considered the proposal. He looked from Liam to Zack to Sally and her baby and back to Liam. He licked his lips and bit down. “OK. Fine. I’ll stay…for now.”

  Liam nodded his head and clasped his hand with Christine’s again. They walked off towards their apartment, ready to forget the entire day. Neither looked back at the heaping mound of exposed dead.

  Luke kept his eyes on Zack and Zack glared at Luke. They both walked in the same direction but kept their distance from each other.

  “I’ll be right up,” Ralph said to Sally. He kissed her and Lilly on the forehead and watched them walk through the opening in the hallway. “Wait up,” Ralph called to Jerry as he tapped him on the shoulder.

  Jerry turned and his large belly almost grazed up against Ralph’s. He looked on with wrinkled eyes and an annoyed stare. He didn’t ask what Ralph wanted. Instead he gave a small grumble and hiked up the same sweatpants he’d been wearing for days.

  “I know you were…involved…with Marianne.” Ralph tried to keep his voice intimidating and the disgust from creeping onto his face. “You could have helped her.”

  Jerry only stared back at Ralph, his face as solid as stone, his thin lips unmoving.

  “Why didn’t you help her?” Ralph practically shouted.

  “I did,” Jerry said evenly. When he was sure the kid understood, Jerry walked away to leave Ralph alone with the corpses, some lying motionless on the ground like they were always meant to while others walked freely outside the fence.

  Part Three

  “I would rather be tied to the soil as a serf ... than be king of all these dead and destroyed.”

  —Homer, Odyssey<
br />
  I.

  Liam Scott and Christine Moore sat on the floor of their apartment together, an empty bottle of wine at their feet and a half empty bottle in Christine’s hand. She took a chug and handed it over to Liam. They were laughing. They didn’t remember why, but they continued to laugh until the walls were impregnated with it.

  The TV was on, but there was no broadcast, only a blank, snowy screen. There hadn’t been any in almost a month, but they left it on just in case there was someone out there who wanted to be heard someday. The lamp attached to the end table next to the couch shone dimly and encased the couple in a circle of yellow light. Their heads were thrown back wildly and tears ran from the corners of their eyes.

  All at once, the power went out and encased them in darkness. The laughed stopped. They both looked over at the now shadowed lampshade.

  “Well, whoever held on this long to provide us with electricity is finally gone…or gave up,” Liam said with a push off the floor to stand. He disappeared into the bedroom.

  “I’m surprised it lasted a whole month. That’s amazing,” Christine said. “Whoever they were, they were heroes.”

  She stayed put in the living room and waited for Liam to get one of the hundreds of candles he bought. She wasn’t privy to his organizational system and she didn’t want to be until it was absolutely necessary. As the weeks went by, she became content with him handling everything. And if she ignored all the boxes lined up along the walls, her world felt almost normal again, like she’d abandoned her career as a lawyer to become a lonely housewife.

  “Longer than that. About a month and a half now,” Liam answered from the other room with his head in a box.

  As he dug around Christine heard the dull clanking sound of hard wax hitting more hard wax. “Just pick one. I can’t see anything.”

  “We’re safe,” he assured her like he’d done countless times since it all started.

  “I know we’re safe,” she said coolly. “But I still miss being able to see, so come on with the candles already. It’s still too hot to light the fireplace yet.”

  Liam gave a breathy laugh and lit an apple scented candle with a match. He placed it on the end table to fill the lamp’s void. He flopped down on the soft, beige couch and let the cushions hug him as he sank in. He patted the seat next to him and Christine smiled. She climbed up from the floor and curled up in his arms.

  “You know what I don’t miss?” he said as he held her close.

  “What?” Christine looked up into his face with big, blue eyes.

  “Tom Cruise movies.”

  She giggled and pushed off his chest. The two of them were encased in a dim orange bubble while the rest of the apartment disappeared into blackness.

  “Why Tom Cruise?” she laughed.

  “I don’t know,” Liam said with a shrug of his shoulders. He pushed up his glasses with one finger. “I never really liked him. There’s something about the man that just…irks me!”

  The both laughed again, unable to stop, their heads swimming.

  Christine leaned over the edge of the couch and swiped the wine bottle off the floor. She was still laughing through her nose when she took a large sip. “You know what I don’t miss?”

  “What?” Liam took the bottle and drank from it with a smile plastered on his face.

  “The sound of the neighbor above us stomping around like a Clydesdale.”

  Liam chuckled. “Oo, you’re dreadful.” Somewhere in the depths of his mind, he remembered that it was Carolyn Bock who lived above them and used to walk with her full weight charging through her feet. He took a sip from the nearly empty bottle, the smile gone from his face. “You know, tomorrow will be the first time that I have to leave the complex with everyone else to get supplies.”

  “I know,” Christine said softly. As if she could forget. It was all she thought about for days.

  “We’re lucky the food has held out this long.”

  She nodded her head. “You’ll be fine,” she said and turned her face up to stare into his eyes. “You have to be.”

  Liam gave a single nod and steadied his face so he wouldn’t give away just how terrified he was. Only a few of the dead had wandered into their building over the weeks, most likely from the other buildings they hadn’t gotten around to clearing out. The team took care of them one by one, more bodies to join the pile in the park before they took a day to toss them over the fence. But he knew, somehow, that it would be different out there—more dangerous, more intense, more…real.

  “Zack’s been going out there every day looking for that Anita girl with Ralph and they’ve been fine. He says it’s not bad.” Christine reassured him.

  Liam could recall every single stomach churning, gut wrenching story Zack had told him about the state of the world outside the fences and knew his friend had been lying through his teeth when he retold them to Christine. She hadn’t noticed the look in Zack’s eyes as he lied, the look that said he’d done something horrible that he wanted to forget about, but never would. Liam couldn’t miss that look in Zack’s normally shining brown eyes if he tried.

  “He seems different, though,” Christine added. “Quieter, calmer.”

  “I think he’s nervous about finding Anita is all.” That was a lie too. Zack had changed because of the things he’d seen and done while he searched endlessly for the girl. It tore at Liam’s heart to know his best friend was at such a loss. He changed the subject. “Luke drove out to his ex-wife’s house last night to see her and his daughter, make sure they’re all right. It’s over in Whiting, about forty minutes from here…or at least it was. I don’t know what the roads are like now.” Liam couldn’t fathom what it was like beyond the fences anymore.

  Christine looked at him with bated breath.

  Liam didn’t say anything else. His hazel eyes shifted back and forth around the dark room.

  “Well?” she said wide-eyed. “Did he find them? Are they OK?”

  Liam pushed off the couch and stood up with a sigh. “I guess we’ll find out in the morning at the meeting. For now let’s get some sleep.” He picked up the candle to light the way.

  Christine slid into their king size bed after shedding her clothes and cuddled the thin quilt up under her chin. Liam faced her back and watched as her breathing slowed and deepened. Once he was sure she was asleep, he reached into his bedside table’s drawer and pulled out the tattered, brown leather journal he’d brought back from his trip to the university.

  It was a nightly ritual that quickly turned into an obsession, one that he wasn’t ready to share with anyone else. He was finally at the part where he joined the team, mere weeks before Dr. Hyde became one of those things and the world crumbled into madness. He read only one entry.

  II.

  Dr. Victor Faustus Hyde

  June 5, 2020

  I’ve been working around the clock to figure out a proper vaccine for this new strand of flu, the super flu they call it. I’ve added several new members to my team, including a clever and cunning young Plant Geneticist. (I’ll overlook the fact that he’s British in order to harvest his brilliance.)

  My desires to be the first to create the vaccine is now border lining on obsessive. It’s all I can think about, dream about. Many nights it’s past midnight before I realize that everyone else has gone home and I’m working in near darkness, like tonight. For my own sanity, I’ve started this journal and also for those who want to know later on how my team and I have stopped this deadly flu before it wiped out nearly half of mankind.

  Dr. Liam Scott is currently working on mutating a few key plants in order to further the third generation of the vaccine. The first two failed, our lab rats dying before the vaccine could rid the bodies of the flu virus. I’m hoping these mutations prove to be the key to developing a working vaccine in the next week. The public needs this. I need this. The world needs us to get this right.

  III.

  Liam Scott’s eyes popped open. The sun shone through the white
blinds of the generous bedroom window. He picked up his phone, though he knew what the time would read. He looked at the screen and put it down. Six o’clock on the dot. Tossing back the covers, he sat up and stretched his legs and then his arms over his head.

  Christine rolled over and pawed at her eyes as she groaned like one of the dead. Liam rubbed her shoulder with his hands and then stood up to shuffle to the closet. Today was the day. He was going beyond the fence. Navy blue t-shirt, jeans, belt, black socks, boxer briefs, and steel-toed lace up ankle-high boots. He didn’t think as he grabbed the items from the drawers and shelves. Once he was dressed he left the bedroom to brush his teeth.

  Christine deliberately waited until Liam left the room to rise from the bed. She performed the same monotonous task of getting dressed, her mind lost elsewhere. Tan, loose tank top, skinny jeans, tan socks, bra and underwear, and brown ankle-high boots tucked into her pant legs.

  She pulled the kinky blonde mess on her head back and secured it with the ponytail holder around her wrist. There wouldn’t be any more straightening her hair sleek with the power out for good. She sighed. Shorter pieces fell down around her face in curls. Maybe she would avoid looking in the mirror from now on.

  If they were in the normal world, she would have rolled her eyes and huffed about the stray tendrils that danced in her eyelashes. She would’ve grabbed a dozen bobby pins to hold them down and then sprayed half a can of hair spray onto her head just to make sure her hair was secured in place. But the world wasn’t what it used to be and she could care less about how neat her hair looked when Liam was going out there in a short while.