Life Among The Dead (Book 3): A Bittersweet Victory

by Cotton, Daniel

  “I thought you said you were almost empty,” Vida says.

  “Just go.”

  With Vida in tow, Brandon pops his head into the musty space first to ensure it is safe. “Here, baby, take my hand.”

  “I got it.” She brushes away his assistance.

  “Are you mad at me?” His question comes with a slight laugh, until the horror of her actually being angry with him sinks in. “Oh no! Why are you mad at me?”

  She remains silent, letting him stew in his ignorance for a bit. Brandon has been with many girls, but none he’s actually cared about. He thinks he may be in love with Vida, so knowing she is upset causes him a fear far worse than anything he’s encountered tonight.

  Conflicted, Brandon wants to make amends but he must also attend to the tasks at hand: fighting the dead, finding the keys, and getting to that truck. A new problem has also reared its head, for Josh hasn’t joined them.

  ###

  Josh left the ladder as the zombies closed in, backing himself against a door. He slid through it as they filled the space between him and the rest of his team. The attention of the men in the ghoulish masks was divided between him and the two that ascended into the attic.

  In a stairwell now, he laughs at Brandon’s misguided idea. Who keeps keys in an attic? With all the dead on the third floor, he knows he can make it to the kitchen easily to search for the keys, which was his plan all along.

  When the Zombie House was a hotel, it included three staircases as well as a service elevator for bringing linens and meals to guests. With the elevators obviously defunct, this is the best way to get back to his goal. He had conserved his ammunition as best he could, hiding ammo bonuses from his temporary alliance. He takes each flight as fast as he can while still remaining cautious of hidden dangers. He isn’t sure how much time is left but it has to be running out.

  He needn’t fear the stunt zombies above who struggle against the door to get to him, for he placed a rubber doorstop at the base of the jam. This he brought into the game from home. He figures it isn’t cheating since the rules don’t mention that such tactics aren’t allowed. He’s read the handbook cover to cover and gone onto the website to search for such constrictions.

  Almost to the first floor, he wears a smile sculpted by pride. His chest is tingling with excitement. This is the farthest he’s ever made it. He can almost smell victory and feel the coveted shirt against his skin.

  Movement at the base of the stairs forces him to push down his exuberance and halt his premature celebration. The sound of feet slowly climbing echo against the bare walls. A shadow lumbers in the minimal light. Josh drops to one knee and takes aim, but he waits for the mystery person to come closer. He doesn’t want to waste a single paintball since he has no idea what’s in store for him once he steps foot outside with the keys.

  ###

  After his gun ran dry, Lloyd started swinging it like a bat at the final corpse that entered the room. He put himself between the girls he had vowed to protect and the zombies hell bent on making him break that promise. The fallen dead were forced to rise yet again to help their co-worker. Five of them now hold him to the ground. One of them tries to talk sense into Lloyd, “Kid, it ain’t real! It’s just a game!”

  “Ow!” another ghoul complains, cradling his arm where he had taken many blunt blows while defending his face. “I think it’s broke.”

  “You’re wearing pads, Scott. I’m sure it’s fine,” an undead peer assures him, while laying all his weight on Lloyd’s legs.

  The blondes haven’t ceased screaming since the first zombie entered the room, and the sound is maddening. “Suck it up and kill these chicks already so this nut will calm down!”

  Lloyd continues to buck against the actors, though he is covered in ‘bites,’ and he fights even harder still the closer Scott the zombie gets to his companions.

  “Ladies, I’m sorry. I just need to give you each a little kiss and then you can go home,” Scott tells them.

  The girls cringe as he nears them with his mouth. Inside his lips is a sponge saturated with fake blood that he presses against the hands they offer up to push him away.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” Brandy says.

  In an instant, the tension leaves the room as Lloyd melts into the floor in defeat. The walking dead slowly release his limbs and back away.

  “Trent’s gonna love this footage,” a zombie says.

  “There’s one in every group.” Another shakes his head. “Let’s get them out of here.”

  12

  “They must have got him,” Brandon says, after pulling up the ladder. He waited as long as he dared, but the zombies were getting too insistent. He tried to fire upon the corpses to keep the landing clear, but it was no use.

  “Or he went for the kitchen,” Vida says. “That was his plan from the beginning, right?”

  They linger in the dark attic for what feels like forever. Brandon has been analyzing Vida’s tone of voice and it finally dawns on him why she’s upset. He chose Josh over her. It’s almost like he cheated on her right in front of her face.

  “I am so sorry,” he tells her. “I was so wrapped up in winning this game I couldn’t see what I was doing.”

  “It’s ok.”

  “No, it isn’t. No prize is worth hurting you.”

  “I don’t know. That is a pretty nifty t-shirt.”

  “Forget the shirt.” Among the cobwebs, he kisses her as the zombies moan below them. “I don’t even want it anymore.”

  “Are you sure about that?” A jingling follows her words.

  “You found them?” He instinctively reaches for the key ring she holds out, but he retracts his hand before making it halfway, as if he fears it is a snake that may strike.

  “Go ahead,” Vida says.

  Brandon can’t believe they have it. A single key on a split ring with a metal tag displaying the words Zombie House in red lettering. All he can manage to say is, “Where?”

  “In the foyer. They were in the Lost and Found.”

  “Of course they were!” He feels like an idiot, as if he should have known all along.

  “Now all we have to do is get to the truck.” Vida checks her cell phone for the time. “We’re in overtime. There’s only ten minutes before they consider us suicides.”

  “We’ll never make it,” he says.

  “We didn’t come this far just to quit,” she tells him. “We’re gonna die trying.”

  ###

  “You’re dead, kid.”

  “Bullshit!” Josh challenges the ruling. “I shot you!”

  Trent Tilden pulls off the mask made especially for his role as a zombie. He needed one that looked as much like him as possible. “I put the bite on you. You’re out!”

  Josh fired just as the zombie lunged on the stairs, his ball splattering a split second before Trent’s mouth touched his leg. He refuses to let his dreams of glory be dashed by the wetness on his ankle where the ‘bite mark’ soaks in through his jeans.

  “Dwayne?” Trent calls into his walkie-talkie. “Come in, Dwayne!”

  Trent turns his back on the contestant he has just eliminated. He hasn’t heard from his technician in a while and he wants to know what the count is. The end is coming, and for all he knows he just got rid of the last one, aside from his arranged victor that he still needs to usher to the keys somehow. “Dwayne, I just took one out on the stairs. Where do we stand? Are we in sudden death, or what?”

  No response. Just dead air. He is frustrated that he must go to the pantry to see what’s going on. It’s the principle that aggravates him not the trek, since the kitchen is right through the door he kicks open.

  “Hey!” Josh tails him. “I protest the call!”

  “Fuck off,” Trent says. “You’re dead. Deal with it.”

  Refusing to face his fate, Josh ransacks the kitchen cabinets and drawers. Trent just lets him humor himself, knowing that he’ll never find the keys in here, just as he doesn’t find his tech in
the pantry.

  Josh fingers the drain and feels in all the spaces between the appliances. “They’re not in here, are they? Tell me they aren’t in the attic.”

  “Why are you still here?” Trent asks. The kid’s presence only adds to his frustration. Dwayne has gone missing and the last thing he wants is to be pestered. “There’s a door right there. Use it. Better luck next time.”

  Trent checks the time. Only five minutes remain before the next batch is admitted. He hates when the rounds run this long. He loses money when they don’t die off quickly. Trent goes for the door he had pointed out to the kid to check if Dwayne has fallen off the wagon and started smoking again. He recalls when they first started the House of Horrors, back when Dwayne smoked like a chimney and they’d joke that they’d be able to use his habit in lieu of a fog machine.

  Josh charges Trent while his back is turned, tackling him. The two topple down a short set of concrete steps and onto the back patio area. The shock of the sudden assault allows Josh the opportunity to deliver a few cheap punches into Trent’s padding. Trent is able to shake his assailant off after many dull shots to the ribs and retaliate with a jab that stills Josh.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Trent seethes. “It’s just a game!”

  Josh, tasting the blood that flows from his nose, just lays back and waits for the pain to stop. All around they hear what they believe to be the stunt zombies moaning. Trent still sees no sign of his absent technician, and now he worries that the game has spilled to the lot. Has someone actually found them? he thinks, rushing to the corner.

  Given his chosen profession, Trent should be ecstatic over what he sees in the parking area. Instead he is repulsed by the nightmarish scene. Twisted bodies lie crumpled among thick tire marks. The victims twitch and moan, attempting to crawl away. Paying customers and his staff alike are just ignoring the hit and run victims, passing the injured and heading his way. The mangled people on the asphalt reach to him for help, but he is too traumatized to comprehend what he is seeing. He tries to formulate a course of action: Call 911, call my lawyer, call the insurance company. Am I liable for this?

  His phone shakes in his hands as he tries to remember how it works. He is so beside himself he doesn’t notice the bright light behind him that casts his shadow over the carnage until it is too late, but Dwayne finally finds him.

  Dwayne had attempted to muscle his way out of the lot as the fan boys and girls beat on his car. He just floored the gas and swerved left, opting for the path of least resistance and hoping not to hurt too many people. They really left him no choice. He cruised around the back of the house, running over the painstakingly fabricated headstones, no longer concerned with ruining the aesthetics. Blood loss from the wound that just won’t stop bleeding makes him lightheaded, and he just wants to get to the hospital. He runs down all in his path on his return trip, after turning around in the side yard of the house, including his old boss and one-time friend.

  13

  “Good shot, baby!” Brandon cheers Vida on as they make their way to the main staircase. The crowd below them has thinned out enough for them to risk pushing towards the finish line. “I see something moving up ahead.”

  Brandon fires at a mass of dark figures approaching from the other side of the hall so Vida can get to the stairs. He told her to keep the keys since she was the one to find them.

  One of the shadows ducks and says, “Brandon, what the crap?”

  “Lloyd? Sorry, I thought you were a zombie.”

  “Not yet. I’m dead. You?”

  “Not yet.”

  The stunt zombies escorting Lloyd and the blondes move to eliminate Brandon and Vida.

  Attempting to aid Brandon, Lloyd’s thick arms shoot out, creating a barrier that buys the last two members of the Dogs of War some time. “Go!”

  “Thank you, Lloyd!” Vida calls, racing down the stairs with Brandon. At the bottom, in the foyer, they see Vicky.

  “Hey, girl,” Vida says.

  “We figured you were out of the game,” Brandon says.

  Their drummer is unusually lazy in her movements as she nears them. She offers no response other than her slow steps.

  “She must be crashing,” Brandon says. He’s seen her come down off of her pills before. It’s actually one of the rare moments the girl sleeps.

  Vida takes the hand Vicky reaches out with. She flashes a concerned look at her boyfriend. “Brandon?”

  Vicky tries to ensnare Vida.

  “It’s all right,” he says. “She’s just getting cuddly from exhaustion. We’ll get her into the van. She’ll sleep well tonight.”

  “No. Something’s wrong with her.” Vida evades Vicky’s toothpick arms.

  “We don’t have much time.” Brandon pulls Vicky away and holds her back to allow Vida room to pass. The dead are on the stairs, having gotten past Lloyd. “We’ll come back for her.”

  At the door, Brandon grabs his hoodie from the coat hooks. Vida follows but is still concerned about Vicky. She had felt the girl’s pulse before in Health class. Her heart rate normally races a mile a minute. Just now, when she had touched her cold skin, it was non-existent.

  “Hey, Vicky!” Lloyd says as he descends the stairs with the zombies.

  “Take care of her, Lloyd!” Brandon shouts over his shoulder as he and Vida head for the finish line.

  The couple dashes out the door. They have no idea if they have run out of time or not, but there’s no way they’re stopping now. They race to the truck as moans and screams of anguish cut through the night air. There are only a few corpses in their way, oddly not wearing the protective masks like the dead inside the house. These dead also don’t fall when they hit them with a paintball. The blunt ammo doesn’t even faze them.

  “What’s the deal?” Vida asks as they near the blue pickup.

  “Probably just some way to make the last stretch harder,” Brandon says. “Get in the truck.”

  Vida opens the passenger door. She’s about to leap in and finish the game, but hands find her shoulder. Cold fingers slip into the collar of her thin shirt. She doesn’t stop, letting the garment tear away as she dives across the bench seat of the cab. She stabs the key into the ignition and turns it.

  “That’s my girl!” Brandon says when the engine turns over. He is still wrestling with a zombie while the truck grumbles. “C’mon, man, game over.”

  Brandon lets up his resistance on the actor, proud of their triumph. Having dropped his guard, the zombie bites him. The dead aren’t giving up on Vida either. Her ankle is still in the clutches of the one that robbed her of her shirt. She kicks out and looks behind her to witness Brandon getting mauled by one of them.

  Brandon shoves the over-zealous actor away. The players are unyielding though the contest is over. Brandon doesn’t hesitate to bash the next one to approach him with his paintball gun. Holding a hand over his bleeding wound, he heads for the truck where Vida calls for him with concern. She sits in the cab of the pickup in only her bra despite the crisp night air. He snatches a t-shirt from the toppled concession stand.

  Even when both of them are inside the vehicle, the zombies enclose around them, as if unable to come to grips with someone finally winning. Brandon hands Vida the shirt. “Here. You deserve this.”

  She accepts the coveted ‘zurvived’ tee with a smile, then kisses her man and uses the garment as a bandage against his neck. “I’ll cherish it always. If it’s all over, why are they still acting like this?”

  Over the hood of the idling truck, they watch more coming their way from the backyard. Brandon sounds the horn in hopes it will reiterate the fact that the game is over, but the encircling dead don’t even flinch.

  “I don’t know,” he says softly.

  He and Vida scan the detailed costumes and props. Twisted limbs lay on the ground, and they were not there earlier. The hero character is on the ground, too, his body made to look as if it’s bent in half while the dead feast on him.

  The
vacant eyes that stare at Brandon and Vida all look away in unison, back toward the house. Lloyd appears, waving to them with the blonde girls. “Hey, Brandon! I think there’s something wrong with Vicky!”

  “Lloyd, get outta here!” Brandon shouts, but is too late. The zombie actors move toward Lloyd and the blondes.

  “We’ve already been bitten,” Lloyd tells the zombies closing in. “They got us inside, and then my friend got me for real.”

  The stunt zombies had cast Lloyd and the girls out of the house, telling them that security would be called to deal with Vicky, who apparently had gone berserk and bitten a few of them, Lloyd included. Ever the loyal friend, Lloyd refused to leave Vicky at first, despite being told of all the liability concerns. But the stunt zombies forced him out the door.

  The approaching mob fall on Lloyd and the girls and they scream as they are torn apart. What started out as a game has turned into the real thing.

  ###

  Try as they do to shut out the gore, the sickening sounds of the feasting drive Brandon and Vida mad. Vida attempted to drive them out of the lot, but apparently the truck was only filled with enough gas to start and sit idle for a few minutes to prevent a winner from speeding away with the truck in lieu of the money and the shirt. After a single jolt in reverse, the engine died.

  Now the berserk horde is all around them, beating on the glass and fenders. Judging from the bite wounds, the vacant stares, and the shared singular obsession, they are witnessing actual zombies.

  Through the cluster of corpses that engulf them, they witness the blondes trying to get to their feet, but they haven’t enough muscle left on their arms to move them. All they can do is shift their weight and roll over into new positions to perform the task.

  Lloyd has been pretty well picked over. The muscles he spent so much time developing have been torn away down to the bone. Brandon had suggested that he start working out back in middle school, since Lloyd hadn’t much going on upstairs. Being bitten himself, Brandon wonders how much time he has left. Lloyd hasn’t risen yet, he notices, and wonders if a person’s fitness level plays a part in the phenomenon.