by Brett Abell
He knew the honorable thing to do would be take his own life. But he had information; knew this to be a virus transferred via human bite. With that information, he could possibly come up with either a cause or cure—or both. If the end result would come too late to save Middletown, the research had to begin at the heart of the matter.
“I am a s-scientist,” Seth said to himself. “It is my d-duty to impart knowledge.”
He opted to take the information to the police headquarters. They needed to understand what they were dealing with in order to best protect the city from itself.
As Seth stepped out of the building, he patted his pants pockets, in search of his keys.
“Shit,” hissed Seth. The pockets were empty, which meant he would be walking to the station. “This is not good,” Seth mumbled. He had no idea how long it would be before the virus took hold.
A car sped by, its horn startling Seth from his apocalyptic reverie. He shouted and waved his hands high. “Stop. I n-need your help.”
The car stopped. Seth sprinted forward. He stopped at the passenger side door; the window rolled down and a pair of concerned eyes glared through, lit by the dim dashboard light.
“Doctor Baker!” The passenger was a middle-aged female, nearly black circles ran races around her eyes. “What are you doing out on the street? Don’t you know we’re under a state of emergency?”
“Take me to the police headquarters?” Seth begged. “It’s an emergency. Please.”
Without hesitation, the woman nodded, reached into the back, and unlocked the door. “Get in.”
Seth took no time in pulling the door open and slipping into the comfort of the back seat. “Thank you so much.”
As Seth closed the door, the car sped off.
“This is some fucked up shit,” the driver spoke through a surprising laugh.
“There is n-nothing to be laughing about, young man,” replied Seth. “This c-chaos is c-compliments of the apocalypse.”
The woman turned around in her seat. “You’re shitting us, right? This ain’t no apocalypse and those ain’t zombies any more than I’m the goddamn next Miss America.”
Both passenger and driver unleashed a wall of redneck laughter.
“Name’s Tommy,” the driver said as he punched the gas. The car lurched forward with a cough.
“And I’m Tammy,” the passenger looked over her shoulder and extended her hand. Seth grabbed the proffered gesture and gave a welcome shake.
“Wait, you’re the Thompson twins.” Seth stifled an out-of-place laugh.
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Tammy replied. “And no, we don’t sing.”
“Shit,” Tommy shouted. The car squealed and fishtailed to the right. “Fuck bags.”
“God damn it, Tommy, you drove into a fucking horde of ’em,” Tammy screeched.
“Are you kidding me?” Tommy replied, equaling Tammy’s pitch and intensity. “Have you been paying the slightest bit of attention? It’s fucking impossible to avoid the bastards.”
“Kids,” Seth shouted. “Can the family squabble wait until we’re safe?”
Tommy slammed the car into reverse and smashed the gas pedal to the floor. The car roared to life, careened off a pair of bodies, and came to a stop.
“What’s wrong?” asked Tammy. “Why aren’t we moving?”
Tommy gunned the car again. The sound of the tires whining mixed with the undead chorus of moans. From the back of the car, a caustic stench wafted.
“Oh my God,” Tammy covered her mouth and nose with her hands. “What’s that smell?”
Seth rolled down his window and snatched a hurried glance down to the wheels. He pulled his head back into the car and returned the window to seal away the doom. His face paled to near white.
“What?” demanded Tammy.
“Your rear wheel is digging into the back of one of the undead,” answered Seth.
“Oh, hell no,” shouted Tommy. He crushed the accelerator under the weight of his foot until the whine of engine and wheel was almost intolerable.
Blood and viscera rained down on the rear window until the wheel finally dug its way through meat and bone and caught traction on pavement. The car shot away from the gathering nightmare. Tommy hit the brakes, spun the wheel, and sent the car into a one-eighty spin. The second the car came to rest, he punched the gas and tore away from the scene.
“Fuck yeah,” Tammy shouted. “That was hot.”
In the dark of the back seat, no one saw the blood beading beneath Seth’s eyes. He blinked his vision into a Gaussian blur.
“There it is.” Tommy broke the momentary silence. “The police headquarters. You want us to wait for you, Doctor Baker?”
“Yes,” Seth croaked through his tightening larynx.
“You okay back there?” asked Tammy.
Silence chilled the air.
“Doctor Baker?” whispered Tammy.
Before anyone had a chance to exhale a nervous breath, a pair of pale hands shot from the back seat and locked onto Tammy’s head. Caught completely unaware, the woman didn’t have time to react. The hands pulled her head and shoulders over the top of the seat and a mouthful of sharp teeth dug into the flesh of her forehead. Fetid breath wafted over her face and into her nostrils.
“Tommy,” Tammy screamed, her voice rebounding off glass and metal. “Get him off me!”
Without hesitating, Tommy cocked his fist and crashed his knuckles into the left side of Seth’s face. Tammy felt the jaws of hell release and she jerked out of harm’s way. When the low moan started and the death mask of Doctor Baker appeared from the back seat, Tammy landed an elbow square into the bridge of the man’s nose. The cracking sound was clear and defined. The head of the monster snapped back, and Tammy scrambled for the door handle.
“What are you doing?” demanded Tommy.
“Getting the fuck away from that bastard,” answered Tammy as she opened the door and hopped out of the car. From outside, she looked back to her brother and said, “I’m heading home on foot. I’ll see you there.”
Tammy sprinted off into the night.
Seth lunged for Tommy.
“Cock sucker!” Tommy screamed and escaped the fate just before Seth had his fingers entangled in the young man’s long hair.
“Tammy!” Tommy shouted as he raced away from the horror-filled car.
Hour Sixteen | Tammy Thompson
She ran. Her feet pounded hard against the black pavement, flats offering zero traction or support. The discomfort of her arches and heels were no match to the fear-induced panic that had her fleeing a scene she could only hope to erase from her mind. Tommy’s voice registered but did nothing to slow her down. She wanted to be as far away from the smell and sight of death as she could get.
Her legs pumped and pumped until her lungs and heart moshed against her ribcage. She ignored the demands her brain placed on her muscles and pushed through the pain.
Off in the distance, she could hear the familiar moans of the undead. The sounds brought tears to her eyes. The city around her had disintegrated under entropy pull toward ruin.
She turned onto a sidewalk that ran down a row of apartments filled mostly with MU students. Before she could get up to speed, a body dropped from one of the nearby roofs and exploded on contact. An assault of meat and human shrapnel attacked Tammy. Bits of bone embedded into her exposed flesh. She ignored the pricks of pain and raced onward.
The pleading shouts of her brother faded into the distance. The only sounds remaining were random moans and her gasping, gulping breath.
Tammy’s system demanded a slower pace. She complied. Tossing caution into the chilly autumn wind, Tammy came to a stop to catch her breath. Their house was just past University Row and through Salyers Park. Unfortunately, the remainder of the trip was uphill.
“Crap,” Tammy hissed and started walking. Her legs didn’t have “run” in them at the moment. “Apocalypse, you’re just going to have to fucking wait,” she said under her breath.
&n
bsp; Tammy’s heart skipped. She clenched her chest and groaned until the spasm subsided. She pointed her feet toward the hill and walked.
“Help,” the sound crash-landed on Tammy’s already hyper sense of awareness. The voice was female … young. Tammy stopped and scanned the area. She finally caught sight of a young girl through a large picture window. The girl stood on the back of a couch, in her nightgown, beating on the glass. Her face was a contortion of horror.
Tammy’s eyes locked onto the sight, unsure of what to do. Her moral compass had shifted away from righteous the second the beasts came out to play. Every step she took away from right, blackened her soul a bit more. But this … this was a child. No matter how far from ethical she was pulled, there was no way she could justify turning a blind eye to innocence. She turned and ran up the walkway to the front door.
Locked.
“Son of a bitch,” Tammy hissed. After a couple of quick pounds on the heavy wood of the door, she stepped in front of the window and stood face-to-face with the young girl. The fear drained from the girl’s face when she recognized Tammy from daycare.
“Jenny,” Tammy shouted, “unlock the front door.”
Just as Tammy thought Jenny would comply, the screaming fits returned.
“Miss Thompson, look out,” Jenny cried out.
Tammy turned, just in time to duck away from the zombie’s reaching arms. She turned back to the window one last time and shouted, “Open the door, Jenny!”
The high-pitch squeal of the girl—and the girl herself—faded from the window. Tammy dodged another undead clothesline and danced her way to the door just as Jenny pulled it open. Tammy dove in, turned, and returned the deadbolt to its “occupied” position.
Before Tammy could release a sigh of relief, tiny arms wrapped around her neck. “Thank you, Miss Thompson.”
Tammy pulled Jenny into an embrace as she stood and moved away from the door and window.
“What’s happening out there?” the young girl begged.
“I don’t know, Jenny.”
“What happened to your face?”
Tammy had forgotten the bite. The second her brain wrapped around the memory, a flood of fear washed over her.
She knew what came next. Tammy looked down at the tiny face before her and wept. Jenny’s small fingers wiped at the rivulets of tears and her smile did everything it could to warm Tammy’s heart.
“You’re safe now, Miss Thompson.”
“Because I have you to protect me?”
Jenny offered up a gap-toothed smile and nodded enthusiastically.
“Where’s your phone, Jenny?”
Jenny giggled and asked, “Why? Do you gotta call your boyfriend?”
Tammy returned the laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”
“This way,” Jenny said and grabbed Tammy’s hand to lead her on.
The dial tone was the first encouraging sound Tammy had heard in a while. She pulled the phone from the wall and slowly punched in 911.
“Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?” a welcoming voice greeted Tammy.
“I …” Tammy hesitated. “I have a child in danger?”
“What is endangering the child, ma’am?”
Again, Tammy hesitated. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and menacing. “Me.”
“Ma’am,” the disembodied voice started and then paused. “Have you been bitten?”
“Yes.”
“What is your current location, ma’am?”
A faint whining noise rose from within the center of Tammy’s brain. A bead of sweat collected on her upper lip and her breath came in ragged gasps.
“Ma’am?”
Tammy went to speak, but her voice was lost. Thoughts scrambled and faded into a bleak pool of confusion.
“I,” Tammy started, but the idea faltered and fell off.
“What is your current location, ma’am?”
“My,” again, Tammy started, but her voice betrayed her.
“Please ma’am, I cannot help you unless you give me your location.”
“Die,” Tammy voiced the single syllable before words shifted to nothing but moans.
The phone dropped and swung on a coiled cord. Muffled words drifted from the out-of-date technology.
Tammy couldn’t understand the words—she only heard a wall of noise that was overturned by the scent.
Luscious and fragrant.
Meat and brains.
What was once Tammy turned to the young sack of sustenance and lunged.
Jenny jumped with an agility that betrayed her youth.
Moans escaped Tammy’s lips. Jenny screamed, her voice high pitched and grating.
Again Tammy dove for the meal; this time, she grabbed a handful of hair.
Jenny tugged against the monster’s grip but remained in place. Tammy pulled her in closer and then lifted the young girl from the floor by the hair.
“You’re hurting me,” cried Jenny. “Please let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone what you did.”
Tammy’s ruined eyes stared toward the sound. She took in a great sniff of air and moaned. Ruby red lips spread wide to reveal nicotine-stained teeth. Jenny struggled against the grip, her hair pulled tighter and tighter … closer and closer.
The sour breath spilled over the exposed, alabaster flesh of the young girl. When teeth broke skin, thin rivers of blood collected in the dip of the young girl’s collarbone.
“Please, don’t,” cried Jenny. “You’re hurting me.”
The zombie’s teeth dug in deep until they clacked together. With a single, violent jerk, Tammy’s head pulled away, tearing off a mouthful of flesh. A fountain of blood arched, in a scarlet rainbow, from Jenny’s neck.
She dropped to the floor, in a pool of her own blood.
Tammy sniffed and ran her tongue over the cooling flesh of the girl’s cheek.
Life had drained away.
Instinct took over and insisted the beast back into the chaotic night. Horrific notes of suffering music danced through the breeze. The wind carried the sounds of life. Tammy tilted her head toward a particularly delicious melody and walked.
Step after awkward step.
Her path led her toward another body. Cold. Dead.
She continued on.
Up the hill. Heavy feet dragged against the pavement. Motor skills carried her forward.
“Hey,” a voice called out. “Is that you, Tammy?” The voice drew nearer. “Oh, thank God. It’s Shenica. Where’s your brother? I haven’t seen Dante and I figured they were hanging out when this shit went down.”
The woman stepped into the path of Tammy. Before she caught sight of the ruined eyes and the bloody lips, Tammy’s arms shot out and pulled her into death’s embrace.
“Oh, hell no,” Shenica screamed and then cocked her head back. With a primal scream, the woman head butted Tammy.
She’d seen the move on TV so many times before; it always worked.
On TV.
Her head snapped back and a cloud of stars danced before her eyes. She stumbled backwards until her feet tangled and she dropped to her ass. Tammy was on her before the woman could unleash a monstrous wail.
Shenica’s hand shot up to block Tammy’s head from reaching its target. Her pinky wound up between the clacking teeth. Tammy bit down and sliced through flesh and into bone. Shenica roared in pain and bucked until Tammy was tossed to the ground. Shenica jumped to her feet and took off at top speed.
Hour Eighteen | Shenica Davis
An explosion ripped through the fabric of the night, tossing Shenica to the ground.
“I am not believing this,” Shenica cried out. “I just wanted to get my ass drunk tonight and forget about midterms.” Shenica stood and brushed off her leggings. “Fucking useless bitch had to go and nearly bite my damn finger off. Nothing but drug-dealin’ trash anyway.” She grabbed her ruined pinky and winced at the pain. A barrage of moans interrupted the moment.
“Oh fuck,” whispere
d Shenica. She spun on her heels … nothing. “Whoever the hell you are, I’ve got mace and a fully loaded punch that’ll knock you on your ass. I suggest you go about your business and leave me the fuck alone.”
The moan rose again. Shenica wasted no more time on speeches and sprinted off toward the immediate care. “No goddamn way a Band Aid’s gonna seal this digit up.”
She reached the intersection of Maple and Fifth and, without looking, raced across the street.
The car struck her at full speed. Shenica’s body went limp and was tossed into the air nearly ten feet. She came down with a cracking thump on the hood of the car. Her open eyes and gaping mouth glared at the driver with frozen horror.
“Oh shit, Dan!” Beth shouted from the passenger seat. “What did you do?”
“Oh my God, oh my God!” Dan hissed. “I didn’t see her. She came out of nowhere. You saw that, right?” Dan asked of Beth.
“I saw nothing—just a body flying into the air and coming down on the hood of your car. We’ve got to help her.”
“Are you out of your mind, Beth? It’s the fucking apocalypse out here. I’m not helping a goddamn soul unless they have something to offer. You watched The Walking Dead … you can’t trust anyone,” Dan shouted, his voice rising into new heights of despair. He turned to Beth and held her fast. “Promise me, Beth.”
“Promise you what?”
“That you won’t tell anyone what just happened. If Mom and Dad find out about it, they’ll ground me for life.”
Beth crossed her arms in a huff. “I thought you said it was the apocalypse?”
“Yeah, so?” asked Dan.
“If so … what does it matter if you were grounded?” Beth’s lips rose in a wicked grin.
The snarky grin infected Dan’s lips. “You’re right. Do what thou wilt, shall be the whole of the law.”
“What, you’re a Thelemite now?” asked Beth.
“It means I can do whatever the hell I want,” replied Dan.
“How many times do I have to correct you on this, Dan?” Beth hissed. “It means love is the law.”
“Fuck that,” Dan said as he stepped out of the car. He grabbed the ankle of the woman on the roof and gave it a tug. The body dropped and slammed to the pavement in front of the car.
