Dead (A Lot)

by Howard Odentz

  “Have you met my sister and Prianka? I’m not sure that meek is a word I would use to describe either of them.”

  “I bet you’re grateful to have them both,” Stella said. She wasn’t asking a question—she was making a simple statement.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I suppose I am.”

  One of the sliders opened, and Trina stepped through the door.

  “From the end of your deck you can see a small park and a little of Main Street.” she said. “There are poxers everywhere.”

  “Is that what you call them?” asked Stella. “Poxers?”

  Jimmy rolled back toward us. He explained about the caller at the radio station who told anyone who was listening about Necropoxy.

  “We just started calling them poxers,” I said. “Somehow the word zombie sounds unreal, and even though this whole thing is unreal, not using the word somehow makes accepting that they’re here a little easier.”

  Stella stood and checked her watch. The time was a little after two in the afternoon. Less than forty-eight hours ago, Trina, Prianka, and I were sitting in high school on a lazy Friday afternoon waiting for the final bell to ring. Sanjay was probably devouring the Internet with Mrs. Bhoola while Jimmy had been getting ready for his stint on WHZZ.

  A crow named Andrew had been staring out the window at the other birds, perfectly content to be domesticated. My mom and dad were putting the final touches on that note to the two of us and laying out way too much weekend cash on the kitchen counter. A small white poodle was blissfully unaware that she would inadvertently give her own life to save mine and my sister’s.

  Less than forty-eight hours ago—that was before the whole world went to hell.

  31

  WE ALL SAT AROUND a huge table that Stella had made out of broken odds and ends she found in the alley behind her building and a few old doors that were in the basement when she bought the place.

  Her handiwork was pretty cool—like art gallery cool.

  She laid out a spread for us with homemade bread, jam, egg-salad, and a few things from her garden. A plate of carob cookies sat in the middle of the table daring anyone adventurous enough to try one.

  Stella explained that with the proceeds of Urban Green she had been able to buy the entire building and set up her home along with The Wordsmith Used Book Emporium. She made sure that the other stores on her block were all to her liking, which meant a health food store, a used clothing outlet, and an agricultural cooperative.

  As the owner and landlord, she naturally had access to each one of them through various stairs and hallways throughout her kingdom.

  “I never have to leave my building,” she said. “And with the agricultural cooperative, I even have a ready supply of organic food for the chickens.”

  “Chickens?” we all said in unison.

  “I draw the line at eating beef, but eggs and poultry? That I can handle.”

  “Where do you keep chickens?” asked Jimmy. He was completely in his element. It was weird to think that this woman was almost totally self-sufficient while, up until recently, most of the rest of the world’s biggest worry was how to get their next fast food fix. I could see how Jimmy would think Stella’s way of life was cool, except for the part about everything tasting a little too much like rabbit food.

  “I have a chicken coop,” she said and pointed to her deck. There was a red shed in one corner with a slanted metal roof and white trim. I had noticed the shed before, but it was filled with potting supplies for the garden. “I’m fifteen strong right now.”

  “Do you eat them?” said Trina

  “Occasionally,” she said and leaned forward with a mischievous grin on her face. “If they’re bad.”

  Mental note to self: don’t be bad.

  “What I really use them for are their eggs—and—not to be crude, but their poop makes wonderful fertilizer.”

  I stopped chewing because the notion of poop, fertilizer, and egg salad all in one thought made my stomach do a flip-flop. I put the sandwich down after I managed to swallow the last bit that was in my mouth.

  “Um,” I began. “Stella, we really appreciate everything and the lunch is great, but we still have to somehow get to my Aunt’s house.”

  “With a flat tire,” said Trina.

  “And a wall of poxers between us and your boyfriend’s Hummer,” added Prianka.

  Jimmy looked down at his plate but didn’t say anything.

  “Ex-boyfriend,” said Trina. “Chuck’s dead.”

  I can’t fault the guy at all, but Jimmy smiled just a little when Trina said that. Yeah, gross. I know.

  Stella quietly picked up our plates and began clearing the table. She neatly stacked the dirty ones by the sink and scraped the excess food into a bowl on the worn wooden counter. After a moment she cleared her throat.

  “You know,” she began. “I’ve created my whole life around solitude. I made sure that I had everything I needed, and even the things I didn’t need I didn’t have to go far to get. All I wanted to do was read books and tend my garden and lead a simple life. Up until two days ago, I thought I had reached my goal. I thought that this was it—that I had everything I set out to get.”

  Stella turned to face the rest of us. I knew what was coming next. I think we all did.

  “Now the world is gone, and I don’t know how long any of us have.” She rubbed her hand across her eyes. I don’t think it’s because she had dirt in them. “Don’t you think . . . don’t you think you would be better off if you stayed here for a while?”

  I was about to say something when Prianka opened her mouth first. Her words came out slow and strong.

  “Stella,” she said. “We have someplace to go. If it hadn’t been for Tripp and Trina we would all probably be dead by now. I think we owe it to them to get to their aunt and uncle’s house. If immunity is genetic I’m thinking at least their aunt is still alive. Their mom and dad might be there, too. We don’t know, but we have to try.”

  “But out there?” Stella stammered. “You have to go out there? You’ve seen what the world has become out there. You all have.” Her voice began to tremble a little. “You have a child with you. You have a responsibility.”

  “Yes, we know,” said Prianka. “We have a responsibility to Tripp and Trina, too.”

  Suddenly it hit me. More than that, it slammed into me like a freight train. Stella never left the world she’d built around her—not before Necropoxy and not now. She was one of those shut-ins—one of those people afraid to leave her own home.

  I think we all figured it out in unison because Sanjay got off his chair with Andrew still on his shoulder and walked over to Stella. His dark eyes found her face.

  “Agoraphobia,” he whispered, as he held Poopy Puppy to his ear.

  Stella looked away and stared out the window to her garden.

  “Agoraphobia is an anxiety disorder that arises from the fear of being in a setting from which one cannot escape. Sufferers avoid large, open spaces where there are few places to hide. In its worst form, agoraphobics confine themselves to their homes and are unable to travel from its perceived safety.”

  Stella’s eyes moistened. We were all quiet except for Sanjay.

  “Poopy Puppy says so,” he said and nothing more.

  32

  “THREE YEARS,” said Stella.

  It took time to process that. Three years was a lifetime. Three years ago I was in eighth grade. Three years ago Chuck Peterson had pushed me into my locker. Three years ago I was as hairless as a naked mole rat.

  “Three years?” repeated Jimmy.

  “Ever since Urban Green became a bestseller. At first there were the crowds at book signings and then just the people. All that attention was too much for me. I finally had to set things up so I didn’t have to be bothered unless I wa
nted to be bothered.” Stella wiped the tears from her eyes and looked away from us. “I guess my dream became my jail.”

  Prianka and Trina were out on the deck with Sanjay. They had investigated the chickens and now were walking through the rows of vegetables that were just about ripe enough to harvest. There really was everything here. Why would Stella want to leave? She could keep out the poxers by making sure the security gates were shut in front of all the storefronts. She could manage here for a good long while.

  It’s just that we couldn’t.

  “I wish you would come with us,” I said to her.

  “I wish I could, too. But I can’t. Besides it’s safe here for me.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. The hordes of the undead outside would soon forget that there was anything in this building worth eating and would leave it alone. Stella had enough food to last her at least the winter. During the spring and summer she could grow vegetables again, and next year, if she ran out of wood to burn, I guess she had plenty of books to throw on the fire.

  “I wish you would stay,” she said. “I don’t have hopes of seeing my sister and her children again. It’s nice to have voices around me.”

  “Were they in town?”

  “Oregon,” she said. “About as far away from here as you can get without hitting the Pacific.”

  It would have been useless to say something like ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘maybe they’re alright’ because the words would have just come out wrong.

  Another thought tugged at my conscience. I didn’t want to let it creep into my mind any further, but it already had.

  Jimmy, Prianka, and Sanjay could stay here.

  They would be safe.

  Just because Trina and I were heading to my aunt’s house didn’t mean they had to come with us. I appreciated that they wanted to, but was that really the best decision for them?

  Stella was right. Prianka had Sanjay to think about. Then there was Jimmy. I didn’t care how tough he was or whatever budding romance was kindling between him and my sister—a guy in a wheelchair would eventually be a liability out there. In here, he was safe, too.

  The girls came in from the deck with Sanjay and Andrew. The bird flew over to the kitchen counter and inspected the bowl that Stella had filled with our leftovers.

  Trina took one look at us and knew immediately what happened.

  “You’re not coming?” she said to Stella.

  Stella only smiled weakly. “Maybe someday I’ll have to, but for now, I’m safe behind my own four walls. If I don’t think too hard about it, it’s like nothing’s changed except for a lot fewer customers in the bookstore.”

  I stared hard at Trina and let whatever twin synergy we had do its work. She knew what I was thinking, and I knew she knew because her face suddenly hardened and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Guys . . .” I said.

  “We’re girls,” said Prianka. “Actually bright, intelligent, young women.”

  “People . . .” I began again. “Trina and I have to get to our aunt’s house. We have a shot at finding our parents. But you guys? It’s safe here. Jimmy, this is your thing, man. You love this earthy, crunchy crap. And Prianka? Stella’s right. You have Sanjay to think about.”

  Trina shifted her feet but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t or wouldn’t look at Jimmy. Prianka, on the other hand, looked like her eyes were about to pop out of her head, and her hair suddenly took on a Medusa-type quality. I almost turned away from her for fear of being transformed into stone.

  “Excuse us for a moment,” she seethed and grabbed my arm hard and dragged me across the room and behind a partition that divided the kitchen area from a seating area in Stella’s living space.

  “Ow,” I cried. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Good,” she hissed.

  “Let go.”

  “No,” she said as she whirled me around so we were face to face. The venomous stare was still there. I didn’t know what to do. I thought she might actually knee me in the crotch again, but I wasn’t sure why.

  Instead, she did the last thing that I could have ever imagined. She did what two days ago would have been about the most ludicrous, preposterous, unimaginable thing ever.

  Prianka Patel, my nemesis, kissed me.

  Hard.

  I dated for a couple months when I was in ninth grade. My friends thought I was cool and Karen Comitsky was pretty in that very suburban, pampered, blonde sort of way. She insisted on holding my hand when we walked down the hallway at school or at lunch, which made it really hard to eat with only one free hand.

  We kissed a lot but nothing much past that. When we kissed, it was soft and nice and totally, unbelievably boring. I asked Trina about that once, which was a big mistake because I had to listen to a barrage of ribbing before she told me that the reason she dumped Duke Posnick was because he was a lousy kisser.

  I didn’t think Karen Comitsky was a lousy kisser. She just didn’t have any life in her lips. Kissing her was like kissing a mannequin—or my pillow.

  This was totally different. When Prianka kissed me there was life there. So much life, in fact, that I almost forgot we were surrounded by death. I kissed her back, and we stood there kissing for almost a minute in ways that I never kissed Karen Comitsky.

  “Are you okay?” yelled Trina from the other side of the partition.

  Prianka pushed away from me.

  “We’re fine,” she yelled back.

  We stood there staring at each other. I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to say. Honestly, I was a little in shock. Finally she put her evil Prianka mask back on and said, “You’re a dense idiot, Tripp.” She stomped away from me and back to everyone else.

  I followed a moment later.

  “We’re leaving, Stella,” said Prianka. “All of us.”

  Stella chuckled a little and tilted her head towards me. “He just figure that out?” she asked.

  “No,” said Prianka. “I’ve always been the smarter one.”

  I thought I was being nice by telling them to stay. I thought I was thinking of someone else besides myself for once. I guess I wasn’t. With one stupid kiss, Prianka knocked over my carefully constructed house of cards, and now I had to build it again in a new and different way.

  The only thing I knew for sure was that Stella Rathbone had no intention of leaving her home, and the rest of us had no intention of staying. Nothing I could say or do could change any of that.

  I didn’t even try.

  33

  “WE HAVE TO make sure that Stella’s safe here,” said Jimmy when we were back sitting around her funky kitchen table. “That means we have to shut the security gates in front of the health food store, the used clothing outlet, and the agricultural cooperative.”

  “Are there any other entrances or exits?” Prianka asked Stella.

  Stella sat with her hands tightly folded in front of her. “There are the doors to the alley,” she said. “There’s the basement, too.”

  Jimmy continued. “Once we know the building is secured, we have to figure out how to get the car running again.”

  “The Hummer?” I gasped. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think any of us are in the position to change a tire all wrapped up nice and pretty with a poxer-bow while there’re literally hundreds of those things outside.”

  “Fine. We’ll take another car,” said Trina. “We have plenty to choose from.”

  She was right. It wasn’t like we were stealing. There was no one left who minded.

  “What about our supplies?” I said “We have guns and Sanjay needs his kayak to sleep.”

  Stella murmured something, but we were all too pumped to listen.

  “We’ll just have to pick a big car,” said Prianka. “Or a truck.”

&n
bsp; “Yeah,” Jimmy said. “A truck would be awesome.”

  “Maybe even something bigger” I said “Like an eighteen wheeler. With one of those, we could just roll over the suckers.”

  Stella slammed her knotted fists down on the table, and we all stopped.

  “Can you hear yourselves?” she cried. “You have guns? You’re all babies. What are you doing with guns?”

  We were all silent. Finally, Trina said, “We don’t know how to use them yet.” Stella was clearly upset. Her hands were shaking. “Stella, we’re going to have to learn. Besides fire, we don’t even know what else slows the poxers down. For all we know a gunshot to the head does nothing.”

  Stella pursed her lips. “What if one of you gets hurt?”

  “We don’t get hurt,” said Trina. A lifetime ago when we were screwed into my dad’s Putter Room, Trina said the only thing we had to do was live. She was right. Our job was to live any way we could.

  Stella,” I began. “We all appreciate your concern, but sooner or later, and I’m thinking sooner, we have to get ourselves out of here and out of this town. Either you can help us or not.”

  She sighed and rubbed her forehead. Her face scrunched up the same way my mom’s did the few times I saw her cry. Thankfully, Stella didn’t cry. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a key-ring full of keys. Each one was meticulously marked as to what door it opened. She tossed them in the middle of the table.

  Andrew hopped off Sanjay’s shoulder and landed in front of the keys. He pecked at them as if they were a new, bright, shiny, toy.

  “We’ll close the security gates first,” said Jimmy. “If we find any poxers inside, we’ll torch them and put out the flames with fire extinguishers. The last thing we want to do is burn down the building. After that, we’ll lock the alley doors and check the basement.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

  “Agreed,” said Prianka.

  “Me, too,” said Trina. “But, Jimmy. You’re not coming.”