Containment_A Zombie Novel
Page 45
So there I was, shuffling down Kirkville Road in my goddamn sandals, the scuff scuffing of my feet echoing back at me from the houses and the Catholic school. This is when I remembered all the zombie crap on Facebook tonight. No sirens would be coming, I knew. No police. No army. Something beyond terrible had happened, and it was only going to get more and more horrible.
Shakes! I suddenly thought, unbidden. My poor dear cat. What would she do without me?
Dodge left, weave right, backpedal away from 8-year-old Billy Rogan who’s moving faster than the others and has a face that looks like he stuck it in a piranha tank. The reason I recognize him is because of his tortoiseshell hair that his idiotic punkrock dad dyed for him. The kid looks like a fucking raccoon with that hair. Billy lived next door to me, and I rode bikes with him sometimes since his parents just sat around smoking cigarettes and drinking on the porch all day. Nice enough kid; not much coordination or self-esteem.
Billy was coming at me now with his stupid hair and his mouth open, and his speed caught me off guard so I did what came natural--kicked him right in the face as hard as I could. His little zombie body flew like a ragdoll and skidded hard on the asphalt. My sandal went with him, so I kicked the other one off and covered the last of the ground separating me and my front door.
Inside, I locked and bolted the door. It wasn’t ten seconds before I heard a thump against my front window, which is a huge plate window that runs almost floor to ceiling. Oh shit oh shit.
“Shakes!” I called, running for the hallway. I grabbed the ceiling rope and pulled the retractable attic stairs down at almost the same moment my front window shattered.
“Shakes!” I called again, peering in the bedroom. Shakes was under the bed, looking up at me with her moon eyes and her tattered blue catnip mouse hanging from her mouth. More shattering glass from the living room sent me dashing up those hinged ladder-stairs, pulling them up behind me.
I sat there in the dark, clutching my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth as silent sobs wracked my body. I’m such a coward, why didn’t I grab my cat? All of it was too much, but all I could think about was the thumping noises downstairs and my poor stupid cat alone with those things.
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