Alive?

by Melissa Woods

  “What’s the plan?” he asked Violet.

  “We could swim?” she suggested.

  “Why don’t we just walk?” Maggie asked. “Follow the river as closely as we can until we’re clear of the house?”

  Sam shook his head. “The river runs through the grounds; the wall meets it on both sides. Robert said the wall only breaks in three places—the two main gates and where the river leaves the property. The only way to get out of this place is to follow the river out on the water.”

  Violet nodded. “I don’t want to walk through the woods any more. But if we swim for a while, we could probably find a spot to climb out as soon as we’re clear of the wall.”

  “Why don’t we just use the boat?” Matt asked.

  “It’s gone.”

  “It’s over there.” Matt pointed to the right where the boat floated, half hidden from view by a large bush. It was in the middle of the river, wedged against a rock that jutted out.

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “Huh, none of us thought to just take a glance over there.”

  “How are we going to reach it?” Violet asked. Before she even finished the sentence, Sam was splashing into the water.

  “Mate, that’s got to be below zero,” Joe called helpfully.

  “Thanks for that,” Sam replied through gritted teeth. Matt followed Sam in. The two of them pulled the boat to the bank before joining the others. Violet, Maggie, Toby, and Joe climbed in.

  “This is pretty tight,” Violet said.

  Matt agreed. “Maybe Sam and I shouldn’t get in? We’re wet already. We could just push you guys until we’re clear of this place, then we could all get out together.”

  Sam didn’t seem altogether thrilled with the idea of swimming for freedom, but he said nothing. Joe, on the other hand, shook his head. “This isn’t Titanic, and you aren’t Jack, so get in the bloody boat.”

  Violet felt as though they’d been traveling all day, though in reality it could only have been an hour or so. They passed the wall not long ago, and had been silent for the entire journey. A sorrier crew had never been seen—each in bloodied pajamas with unkempt hair and tired eyes. Sam stared blankly ahead, focused solely on their destination. The little engine of the boat didn’t work, so he and Joe had been using a couple of oars to paddle forward. It took a lot of effort, but Violet supposed Sam was just grateful for something to do. Maggie’s eyes were closed, and she rested her head on Toby’s shoulder, startling awake at the slightest sound. Ben was on her lap, peering around excitedly, hopping off every now and then to hang his head off the side of the boat, the only one enjoying the journey. Toby was watching the water, occasionally skimming his fingers across the surface.

  Matt shook a little from his spot beside her. Violet put her arm around him, his wet clothes immediately soaking her own.

  “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

  He nodded. “Robert told me the name of this river. As long as we’re going the right way, it should take us really close to my grandparents’ house.”

  That was reassuring at least, though having lived as they had been for the past few weeks, finding a little cottage which may or may not contain the reanimated corpses of Matt’s grandparents couldn’t help but seem a little less appealing.

  “There,” Matt said, pointing to the right some time later. Violet followed his gaze; not far away was a narrow road, with several cottages on each side.

  “The one on the end belongs to my grandparents,” Matt said. “We can get out here.”

  Sam immediately swung his legs out of the boat and dropped into the water. He began to pull it to shore. Joe rolled his eyes, motioning for Matt to stay put, and followed Sam out. He clearly wasn’t expecting the water to be quite so cold, and swore loudly the second he got in. He and Sam led the boat toward the bank.

  “Ow!” Joe cried out suddenly.

  “What is it?” Violet asked.

  “Something bit me.”

  Matt shook his head. “You probably caught yourself on a rock.”

  “No,” Joe replied. “It felt like a bite… We don’t get piranhas here, right?”

  “Of course we don’t,” Sam said.

  “And we’re sure the biters don’t swim?”

  No one answered for what Violet thought was an awkwardly long amount of time. Finally, Matt said, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He doesn’t sound sure.

  “Let’s just get out,” Sam muttered, pulling himself onto the bank. Joe followed, and they helped the others onto dry land. They crossed the large open green toward the little road, the house appeared very inviting after spending so long in the cold boat. It was a small, red bricked cottage, surrounded by a white picket fence. The other few houses were relatively similar, with variations like the colors of their front doors or the flowers in their gardens. Each was surrounded by a white fence.

  Matt led the way with Ben, followed by Violet, Toby, and Maggie, with Sam and Joe squelching along behind them. The garden gate was open, which Violet didn’t think was a particularly positive sign. A pretty important element of surviving the zombie apocalypse was security, and a garden gate swinging in the breeze wasn’t a great start. The curtains of the house were drawn. Violet had no idea what they were going to find inside. The back door was, at least, closed. She reached out, putting her hand on Matt’s shoulder as he made to open it.

  “Matt…if they’re inside—”

  “I know,” he interrupted, but his voice was not unkind. He pushed on the handle, but the door didn’t move. He pushed again, then forced the door open with his shoulder.

  “That’s just how you have to open it,” he explained to the others. “My grandad never got around to fixing it.”

  Ben darted inside first, then the rest of the group followed Matt into the silent building. Sam closed the door behind them.

  “We need to check the house,” Matt said, pointing to the stairs in front of them, and the door to their left. Sam and Joe headed upstairs with Ben. Matt and Violet went through the door, leaving Maggie and Toby in the kitchen. There were only two rooms downstairs—the kitchen and the living room, both of which were empty. Violet was glad the place seemed to be clear of the dead, but there was no sign of Matt’s grandparents either, and that didn’t make her feel overly positive. Matt looked at the rotten fruit in the bowl, and the layer of dust over the coffee table.

  “I don’t think anyone’s been here for a while,” he muttered. “I don’t know whether to feel relieved or not. I wanted to see them, to know they were okay, but two old people out here alone? At least if they’re not here…maybe they were rescued?”

  Violet nodded. “Maybe.” She hoped he was right, but deep down, she just didn’t believe it. Joe and Sam joined the two of them in the living room, followed by Maggie and Toby. Violet’s head began to swim a little, and she realized Joe was wrapping a bandage around his hand. The smell of blood began to fade as he covered the wound, and the room came back into focus.

  “Everything okay?” Matt asked Sam, whose eyes were still glazed.

  “Yeah, there’s no one up there.”

  “Why’s he bleeding?”

  “Because he’s an idiot.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “I thought we were going to say I killed a biter?”

  “No, you were going to say that.”

  “How did you do it?” Violet asked.

  “I broke an ornament. I felt guilty so I tried to pick it up, but I cut myself.”

  “Smooth.”

  Sam surveyed the empty room. “They’re not here?” Matt shook his head. Sam dropped onto the nearest armchair, a cloud of dust flying up as he did so. “At least this place is safe. We can stay until we decide what to do next.” His voice sounded so different to how it used to be, almost robotic. Violet caught Joe’s eye, but he gave a little shake of his head.

  “I’ll find some towels,” Matt said, then gestured to the fireplace. “If someone wants to get the wood from the pile outside, we could get a fire goin
g.”

  “I’ll go,” Violet said. Joe got up, too. Sam stayed where he was, eyes unfocused, as though he were thinking about something a long way away. There was a packet of cigarettes and a lighter sitting on the table by his chair, and he reached over and lit one up. He took a long drag, blowing the smoke out slowly.

  “Stay with him,” Violet mouthed to Maggie, who nodded.

  “I’ll check the greenhouse outside,” Toby suggested. “See if there’s anything we can eat.” He grabbed a walking stick leaning against the wall, which Violet guessed he was intending to use as a weapon, and headed toward the kitchen.

  “Call if you need us,” Violet said, her eyes coming back to Sam. “Sam…I—”

  He shook his head. “Just…just get the wood, Violet. Please.”

  They found the woodpile in the garden, stacked up against a crooked shed. Violet and Joe began piling it in their arms. She glanced at his bandaged hand. “Does it hurt?”

  He followed her gaze, shaking his head. “Not really.”

  “It was good you covered it up.”

  “Well yeah, I didn’t want to bleed to death.”

  Violet rolled her eyes, speaking quietly. “I know, but it’s good for me, too.”

  Joe appeared momentarily confused. “Why? Oh right, the zombie thing.”

  “Yes, the zombie thing.”

  “I forgot about that,” Joe said with a shrug. He picked up another piece of wood, balanced it precariously on his pile, and then dropped the whole lot. “Sonofa—”

  “You’re not taking it seriously,” Violet interrupted.

  “I am! I just wasn’t holding it right.”

  “No…” She shook her head, turning to face him. “I mean me. You don’t understand.”

  Joe stopped, giving her his full attention now. Violet sighed. “As soon as there’s blood, I become this…this monster.”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t met a woman who doesn’t.”

  “No, I’m dangerous.”

  “Once an ex-girlfriend hit me with a book because I didn’t say I liked her new haircut quickly enough.”

  “I’m not sure you’re getting this…”

  “It was a huge book. Left a bruise and everything.”

  “Joe, focus! Do you hear what I’m telling you? You could wake up one morning to find me chewing on your—” Violet stopped, realizing they weren’t alone.

  Toby was standing behind them, holding a bunch of carrots and wearing a confused expression.

  Joe’s eyes widened, but then he plastered a smile on his face. “Listen, Vi, I’m flattered, but why don’t we collect this wood first, huh?”

  Violet’s face flushed, but she nodded.

  Look at it this way—whatever Toby thinks, it’s better than what we were actually talking about.

  Toby smiled awkwardly, heading back to the house.

  “That was too close,” Violet breathed.

  Joe nodded. “Anyway, you were saying how dangerous and scary you are? And I’m really interested to know what you’re planning to chew on?”

  “I mean it; if I lose control…I could kill you. Any of you.”

  “Well, before you do, could you help me carry this?” he asked as he dropped another piece of wood. “I feel like I’m losing the battle here.”

  Violet laughed despite her frustration. Joe had the uncanny ability to make everything seem a whole lot less scary; even conversations about her being a member of the living-dead community. “Fine.”

  She and Joe brought the wood inside. Soon enough, a fire was roaring. The group sat in the living room, warming up and allowing wet clothes to dry. No one spoke for the longest time. Violet knew they needed the time to process what had happened. Sam had been consistently smoking, and a heavy fog filled the air. She hated the smell. She didn’t think the others were fans either, but no one said anything. Ben was asleep in the kitchen; the only one who’d made his feelings clear.

  Out of nowhere came the sound of car doors slamming. Maggie, who’d been sitting on the floor, jumped to her feet, cutting her arm on the knife she’d been holding. She cried out, slapping her hand over the wound, which poured crimson blood. Violet stepped away, toward the window, while Joe and Matt moved to Maggie. Violet’s heart was racing, and she covered her nose instinctively. She peeked through the blinds to see where the sound was coming from, anything to distract herself from the smell.

  “It looks like the army,” she said to the others, watching as three men in soldiers’ uniforms climbed out of a green truck.

  “It’s not too deep,” Matt said to Joe, holding his hand over Maggie’s wound. Joe began to wrap the cut.

  “If it’s the army, they can help.” Sam got to his feet now.

  “I think we should stay put,” Matt said.

  Sam looked confused. “Why?”

  “I just think…we don’t know these people.”

  Sam shook his head. “It’s the army; they’re meant to protect people like us.”

  Joe moved a little closer to Sam, letting Toby take over with Maggie. “I think Matt’s right.”

  Violet knew what was happening. They were trying to protect her. If the army rescued them, surely they’d check for bites? Even if Violet managed to convince them she wasn’t dangerous—which her track record demonstrated wasn’t exactly true—it’d be highly unlikely they’d simply pat her on the head and let her go.

  Joe continued, taking another step closer to Sam. “We don’t know who these people are, mate. They might not be the army at all. We’ve been doing okay on our own so far.”

  Sam snorted. “Doing okay? You think we’ve been doing okay?”

  “I just mean—”

  “Why don’t you tell that to Rachel, Emily, Zack, and Tom. Tell Amy.” He eyed Maggie, holding on to her bleeding arm. “Tell her. I think we’ve been pretty damn far from okay for a long time.”

  Violet turned back to the window. She still felt groggy, but Toby was doing a good job wrapping Maggie’s arm, and the smell was starting to fade. She wondered if maybe she was beginning to be able to control herself more, too. That would certainly make life a little easier. Two of the soldiers were heading for the house, while the other stayed with the truck. They each held what she thought were rifles, though Violet knew very little about guns. She could see two more heading into a house on the other side of the street. Whatever her friends were going to do, they had to decide fast.

  “Sam, we’re not staying here. It won’t be safe,” Matt insisted, taking Violet’s hand but not breaking eye contact with Sam. “Please, trust me.”

  Sam glared at Matt, Joe, and Violet. After an agonizing few seconds, he broke and nodded. “Okay.” He reached for the knife on the table, pointing toward the back door. “Let’s go.”

  With a boom, the front door smashed open, and the two men came inside. They stared at the six muddy, bloody people in the room, not lowering their guns. They wore balaclavas, with only their eyes and mouths visible. The one on the left glanced at Maggie, saw the bandage on her arm, which Toby was now securing, and shot her in the head.

  That was it. Done. Maggie fell backward, slamming onto the hard floor. Toby stood frozen, his hands still covered in Maggie’s blood.

  “Anyone else bitten?” the soldier asked, his eyes settling on Joe’s bandaged hand. But there wasn’t time to answer, because Sam launched himself at the man, catching him off guard and knocking him to the ground. The other one raised his gun, but Matt and Joe were faster and forced him down, too. A gunshot rang out, and bits of the ceiling rained down on them as they fought with the soldiers. Toby tried to wrench Sam off the first one, who he was still punching repeatedly. He’d managed to pull the balaclava off, and the man’s face was already a bloody mess. Ben barked angrily, hopping from side to side and baring his teeth.

  “Come on,” Matt cried, moving back from the second, who appeared to be unconscious, and taking hold of Violet’s hand. Joe managed to dislodge Sam, and the two of them ran from the room and out of t
he back door with Violet, Matt, and Toby. Outside, they headed for the road behind the house, the sounds from inside getting louder. The soldiers were yelling and swearing, and then there were gunshots all around, ringing in Violet’s ears. It sounded like they’d called for backup.

  They’re going to kill us!

  “Keep going,” Joe yelled.

  They rounded a corner, their shoes hitting the tarmac of the main road, and ran as fast as they could. Matt pulled Violet ahead, leading them through back roads and gardens. She could hear the truck. It was close. It was searching for them.

  “In here,” Matt hissed, taking them into a house with its front door wide open. Joe slammed it shut, plunging them into relative darkness. All the blinds were drawn, and they stood silently for several minutes trying to catch their breath. Ben panted, dropping onto the wooden floor. Violet’s throat felt hot and acidic, and she put her hands on her knees as she sucked in the dusty air.

  “Maggie,” Joe whispered eventually. “I can’t believe it. Just like that…”

  “We can’t trust anyone,” Sam said, his voice low. “Not anymore. I was so stupid. We should’ve run straight away. That’s what you guys wanted to do.”

  Violet reached out to touch his shoulder. “You didn’t know—”

  He shrugged her hand off, trudging toward the kitchen. Violet realized she was still holding onto Matt’s hand. She looked at him, trying to find the words. What happened to Maggie didn’t feel real, and she had no idea how everything had changed so quickly. Matt shook his head; he didn’t know what to say either.

  She was just with us. She was fine. Now she’s dead.

  There was the sound of something being knocked over in the kitchen. Violet thought at first that Sam was taking out his frustrations on the crockery, but then she could hear more than one pair of feet moving inside. Joe’s eyes widened as he realized the same thing, and they ran to the kitchen door.

  Sam was fighting a biter, his back against the kitchen counter. He’d jammed his knife into its neck, but it still held onto him tightly. As Violet stepped through the doorway, she watched its teeth snap at his face, just millimeters from his skin. Matt and Joe hurried into the room, pulling the biter away, but they didn’t have their knives. They fought with it. During the scuffle, Violet heard more coming down the stairs.