Crowded Yet Desolate: A Zombie Novel

by Lee Dunter

“Ya, I guess. It’s a Wal-Mart. They kind of all look the same.” The screaming got closer.

  “Get a move on then!” Ryan said.

  Gathering their carts, they left the isle towards the rear of the building, leaving behind the music and the glow of the blue light. Ryan un-holstered his pistol and balanced it on the handle of the blue-rimmed shopping cart. The unconscious girl lay inside. When they reached the back wall, they found televisions, not an exit. Joe turned left, following the dim red of the emergency exit lights. A gun fired ahead, loud in the confines of the store. Ryan heard the affect of Joe’s lethal aim and as he reached where the location he looked down and saw a zombie on the floor missing half of its head.

  In the distance, Ryan could see a door, illuminated by the light seeping in through the cracks surrounding it. He heard rain and soured his face. They didn’t need another obstacle threatening their lives. Joe kicked the double-door, and it swung open, creaking on its hinges. The fire alarm immediately began ringing throughout the building, despite the lack of electricity. The flashing lights revealed zombies only a few feet behind Ryan. One was a naked teenage girl, her body cut down the middle and completely covered in dried blood. Ryan, too afraid to look at the others, turned his head and ran out the door.

  The rain fell heavy, blackening the sky and distorting Ryan’s view. It didn’t matter; the adrenaline promoted instinct over eyesight. They ran as fast as their shopping carts would allow, and the rain pummeled their bodies and faces, soaking them before they had left the parking lot. Some zombies followed; others remained inside, distracted by the sirens and flashing lights. Of those that pursued, minorities were decayed and falling behind, so that by the time the group reached the school they had left a path behind them of undead bodies and limbs.

  The rain had made a mud slide of the school’s front yard, and the group sloshed across it with difficulty. Ryan’s sides ached, and the run across the grass felt impossible. The cart became stuck, and he had to kick at the wheels to loosen them. He gathered up speed, his arms shaking with the cart, and tried to maneuver around the building pools of water. When they reached the front door, it was locked and the first floor was deserted. Ryan panicked and began banging on the door with all his might. He screamed at his crazed reflection looking back at him. Everyone joined in. The ground they had gained on the zombies quickly became irrelevant. Dozens of zombies made their way onto the front yard. Still enraged, Ryan whirled around, and, hoping the gun would fire in the rain, he squeezed the trigger and found it worked perfectly. The third bullet neared its target, and the fourth finally landed a headshot. As the twins opened fire and Ryan reloaded, he wondered: Was I really the first one to start shooting?

  Reloading, Ryan watched as the newcomer pulled out Kyle’s gun and instead of firing into the hoard, shot at the glass door. He managed to fire three rounds before Ryan slapped him in the face. He looked at Ryan with a twisted smile, like he actually enjoyed being hit. “Hit me again pretty boy,” he said, “and see what happens to you. Don’t matter no way. Look.” He pointed at the glass. Bill had been right: the glass was bulletproof.

  Mrs. Bennet presently came into view on the other side of the door. She opened the door and yelled, “Come on. Get in, get in!” Everyone did, pushing their carts in front of them, and she slammed the door once they were all inside. Each man fell to the ground, heaving deeply. Guns and grocery carts surrounded them, one of which contained a dying woman. Outside were at least twenty dead zombies, brains blown to pieces, their blood mixing with the muddy water.

  “What the fuck?” Cam yelled. “Where is Albert? We could’ve been killed out there! What were you thinking? You stupid–” Kyle reached over and placed his only hand on Cam’s mouth, muffling his words. Mrs. Bennet was crying.

  “I . . . I . . . I’m sorry,” she said in between sobs. “I tried to–to be quicker. It’s Albert. He’s–” Her voice failed. Lines formed on her forehead and around here eyes, showing her true age. Ryan saw her without all of her bullshit. She was small, scared and vulnerable, and he felt sorry for her. Can’t we catch a break, just a little one?

  Chapter 14

  “He’s running a fever, and I fear it’s bad. I fear it’s very bad,” Mrs. Bennet said in between sobs. She sniffled and continued. “We were sleeping, and–and Jaden woke us up. He was just standing there, screaming about a zombie downstairs. He wouldn’t stop badgering us, so we got up and let him lead us downstairs, and there was Albert, slouched on the ground, sweating profusely, and-and covered in his own vomit. He said he was fine, but I knew better. Once we got him upstairs, we made him comfortable. “She turned to face Ryan. “I came as quickly as I could, I’m so sorry.”

  Mrs. Bennet’s tears were too great for her to continue. Ryan’s anger had replaced with concern during her speech, and as he recalled how skittish Albert seemed earlier that morning, he wanted to rush upstairs and see him immediately. What else had he been hiding? he wondered. First, Ryan urged Mrs. Bennet to go see her husband, and after she went, Ryan turned to the others.

  “Time for inspection,” Ryan said firmly. “I think stripping the shirts should be enough.”

  No further explanation was needed. Everyone but the newcomer formed a circle, dripping rain and mud onto the floor. They removed their shirts, a struggle with the fabric wet. Ryan walked around, looking at them, careful not to slip on the small puddles forming on the floor, and saw no bites or scratches. All were clear and healthy. Cam pointed at the new man, who watched with his arms folded, and Ryan turned to him.

  “What’s your name? Were you bitten?”

  He stared into Ryan’s eyes, a scowl on his lips, and Ryan knew he wasn’t going to cooperate. “You can call me Mike.” Ryan nodded, knowing this wasn’t his real name, but names were just useless labels in this new world, anyways. “And no I wasn’t bit, ya fuckin’ prick.” He spun around in a circle, flailing his arms about like a clown. “Does it look like I did?”

  Ryan cocked his head at him, hoping it looked a little intimidating. He prepared himself for an argument, but Joe, who appeared to hate the man more deeply, stepped in.

  “Take that ugly piece of shit off your back, and let us see for ourselves,” Joe said.

  Mike stepped forward with a smile and dropped his pants to his ankles. “Is this what you wanted to see, faggot? Is this what you like?” He turned around and bent over, spread his cheeks. “Is that what you’re into, huh?” The man stood upright, turned, and, his bottom half still naked, removed his shirt. “See any bites around here, do ya?” The man continued to stammer insults, but after seeing no bites, Ryan stormed away, cursing and letting the others of put away supplies and care for the girl.

  At the top of the stairs Kyle caught up with Ryan. “Not much use for me down there,” he said, displaying his nub, as if Ryan could manage to forget it.

  “I can’t say I mind the company,” Ryan said truthfully. “I really don’t know how much more of this crap I can take.” As they passed the Bennet’s room, they looked in to see Don leaning against a wall and holding Reginald, who pulled Don’s hair and laughed at the ensuing pain. Marge and Jaden were playing catch with a red dodge ball. Satisfied, Ryan turned away and walked to Albert’s room. The juxtaposition between that scene and Albert’s condition was shocking. He lay on the cushion of two rugs, and his shirt was plastered to his body with sweat. There was a fresh pool of vomit on the tile next to the carpet. Albert, hearing the two walk in, rolled over and forced himself to sit upright. His face was pale and strained. Kyle put a hand on Albert’s chest and gently pushed him back, like a mother to a sick child.

  “Jesus, Albert,” Ryan muttered. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not great,” Albert said, and he coughed, covering his mouth. “But don’t worry. I think it’s just a fever.” There was something in Albert’s tone that greatly disturbed Ryan. Albert changed the subject: “How’d everything go out there?” Every word sounded like a struggle.

  Ryan hesitated, unsure how
much of the story to burden Albert with. Deciding to leave most of it out, Ryan began recounting the trip and paused when Albert turned away, blank faced and completely uninterested. Albert turned to Kyle in the silence. “Kyle, could you leave us alone for a few minutes? There’s something I wish to discuss with Ryan. In private.” Kyle hesitated but agreed. He walked to the door, went out, and after lingering outside the door, his haggard face disappeared.

  Albert remained quiet for some time, searching for the proper words. Finally, he coughed heavily, clearing his throat, and began to speak.

  “Now, don’t overreact when I tell you this, but I was hiding something from you in our discussion this morning. You have to understand. Everything I said was absolutely true. I have believed for about a day now that the transmission of the virus occurs by some other means than through bites. With that being said, I may have done something . . . hasty. What I’m about to show you may shock you, but you must remain calm.” Albert turned his head and coughed violently. His condition was worsening, but Ryan was far too interested to stop him. He nodded.

  Albert stared at Ryan, narrowing his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled. He pulled his sleeve up.

  “Oh my God,” Ryan said. There were teeth marks on his shoulder, and a bluish black decay spreading out from the missing tissue. Veins crawled up his neck and down his shoulder. He looks like a fucking heroine addict, Ryan thought, wondering how he had missed this before. Ryan stumbled away from Albert, jumping to his feet, and set to pacing the room. He stopped suddenly and looked out the door to ensure no one else had seen. Confident they were alone, he cautiously made his way back to Albert and kneeled, ready to spring up in case he had to.

  “How the hell did this happen?”

  Albert lowered his sleeve, hiding the majority of the wound. “Well. This morning. I put my hypothesis to the test.”

  Ryan gave him a grave look. “You did this on purpose?”

  Albert nodded. “Yes.” And then quickly, with one deep breath, he said, “The thought plagued me, and I had to know. I had to be sure. I couldn’t stand the uncertainty eating away at me anymore.” He paid penance with a series of coughs.

  Ryan stood again, a fury building inside him. “You did this because of an itch that you couldn’t scratch? Why didn’t you just open up your eyes and look around you? There are fucking zombies out there, Albert! And as much as you or I don’t want to admit it, it’s true.” Ryan glared at him, blinding anger coursing through him. “Christ, I can’t believe you did this. A little hasty my ass! You were being completely selfish! Reckless! What if you had changed before we returned from the store? Did you think about that? Did you think about what you might have done to Jaden or Reginald?”

  Albert lowered his gaze at that. After fidgeting, he returned Ryan’s stare. “I’m not infected.”

  “Oh yeah, you look fucking peachy right now. Just look at you. How can you say you’re not infected? You’re skin looks like it’s about to boil off.”

  “No, I’m not infected, I’m sure of it. Think about it, Ryan. Did you see Tavaris or Kayla run a fever?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. We never actually saw them change.”

  “Okay, what about Deborah then? Did she run a . . . ”

  “Fuck you! Don’t you dare talk about her!” Ryan, realizing he was screaming, tired to calm himself.

  Albert looked out the door. “Look, we’re not going to have much more time. Please, just trust me right now. I’ll be fine. I’m not infected.”

  If it were not for Albert’s pitiful condition, Ryan might have believed him, for there was such confidence in Albert’s tone and demeanor. But did Albert really expect Ryan to ignore that pitiful condition, to ignore what he knew about zombies? Albert was now dangerous, liable to change any minute. Ryan had seen it multiple times: a victim running away from the undead only to turn into a lifeless monster seconds later. He wanted to trust Albert, but it was risky. Then, for a brief moment, he considered dealing with Albert now, before the transformation occurred, before he became a threat to Ryan and the others, but ultimately he knew he lacked the courage to do that, to shoot Albert cold blooded. Ryan considered his options for some time, Albert’s hopeful gaze on him, and before Ryan knew what happened, he felt himself leaning towards remaining quiet. God, don’t let me regret this.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” Ryan said, feeling somewhat ashamed. “Under certain conditions.” Albert nodded, his pale face gaining some color. “You are to have no contact with anyone. I’ll tell them you need rest and that you said your fever is highly contagious.” Ryan was now at the door. He opened it and continued. “After I close this door, it better not be opened again. Don’t you even think about coming out for anything. You shit in that corner if you have to.”

  Albert nodded, and with thin, pale lips said, “Thank you, Ryan.”

  Kyle appeared in the open doorway. He knocked on the banister, leaning his head in, and asked, “Is everything okay in here? I heard some yelling.”

  “Everything is great,” Ryan said. “I’m just leaving now. Albert needs his rest.” Kyle gave Ryan a knowing look, which said he wasn’t being fooled, but he silently followed Ryan out of the room. Ryan shut the door.

  Under Ryan’s watchful eye, the door was six feet of earth separating Albert from the others in the school. Albert seemed to play the part: he hardly moved, pale and thin, staring at the ceiling the entire evening. If he closes his eyes, he might not wake up human. He knows that, I bet. Is that confidence still in there, Albert?

  Surprisingly, Jaden took a liking to Mike, who, along with Cam, occupied Jaden for much of the day. Jaden’s imagination had them as firefighters this day, running through the halls, putting out imaginary fires, and saving imaginary lives. Mike managed to make more noise than both Jaden and Cam combined, and Ryan wondered how this man who was wholly submerged in make-believe games could be the same man who he had accused of murder earlier that day. And Mike’s behavior was only one of the surprises that Ryan received that day. As he walked the halls, he happened to look into the Bennets’ room and see them interacting with Reginald. Marge bounced him on her knee while Don sang Yankee Doodle with a pleasant voice. They all smiled, and Reginald laughed. Ryan wondered what made the couple, who had no kids of their own, take so quickly to the child. Is this what they were like before anyone had ever heard of Don Bennet? Ryan smiled, beginning to walk away, and then he paused as Don opened the door behind him.

  “Ryan, hey. I just wanted to thank you again,” Mr. Bennet said.

  “No need to. You’ve apologized enough. I was wrong to ever consider–”

  “No. Thank you for everything.” He smiled, squeezed Ryan’s shoulder, and went back into the room.

  Thanks for what, exactly? Ryan wondered. He went to Albert’s door and sat, leaning against the wall.

  At some point, Joe and Roe walked by him with the radio in hand. They were taking it all over the building to try to find an incoming signal. Chances were slim, they admitted, but outside news, hopeful or otherwise, was worth the minimal effort. With everyone busy with their tasks, day quickly faded to night, and Ryan became bored with his own. He smirked at the thought. Even in the zombie apocalypse, life could be mundane. Just this morning I was storming the streets like a doped up cowboy, and now I’m playing babysitter. He sighed, and the noise sounded thunderous in the empty hallway. It had grown quiet, making Ryan nervous, for the quiet seemed to precede every instance of horror. Ryan related the quiet to the shy neighbor who everyone finds agreeable, but who secretly rapes and murders women on the weekends. What horror will strike this time? he wondered. Will it be Albert’s transformation? Will he hurt someone when he goes? The bitter thoughts made Ryan shudder. He stood and went looking for a way to distract himself.

  Ryan found Kyle in their room, and he began a conversation, which quickly steered to the new girl with the blue eyes. Kyle told Ryan that he had spoken to her. “She was very confused. I’m not entirely cert
ain she even remembers trying to kill herself. I’ve counseled quite a few people who were so ashamed of it that they block the even from their memory. It’s as if it was just a dream, and their injuries just a manifestation of that dream.” Ryan knew nothing of that, but he thought if a person was trapped in a Wal-Mart surrounded by zombies, God would have to forgive the suicide attempt. Eventually, Ryan and Kyle ran out of things to say, and after a time of peaceful silence, Ryan left the room. The sun was fading away and with it, their main light source. He lit the candles in the hallway and turned on the battery-powered lamps in the cafeteria. As he passed the room where the new girl slept, he crept to the door and stared in. Her back was to him, her hair a brown mess of curls. Ryan wished she would wake like she had for Kyle, but before she had a chance, Roe sprinted past Ryan, jumping in excitement, shouting for everyone to follow him upstairs. Ryan backed away from the window nonchalantly, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he had been staring.

  All but Marge and Mike followed Roe, Marge putting Reginald to sleep and Mike opting to play “With this little man” Jaden. Ryan continued to marvel at Mike’s behavior. Surely Ryan had been wrong about what he saw at the intersection; it all happened so fast, and the others hadn’t seen anything. Ryan had a habit of being over-optimistic, but he hoped that Mike, like the Bennets, had found his place within the group.

  Roe led them upstairs, down the length of the hall, and into an office that had Bill’s name plastered to the door. It was a modestly sized room with a large, expensive oak desk in the middle. The walls were adorned with letters and poorly drawn pictures, and Bill’s two diplomas were mounted above a filing cabinet against the far wall. Roe stood next to this cabinet, propping up the antenna of the functional handheld radio. There was a great deal of static, but once everyone fell silent, distant voices became audible.

  “It’s been on a loop,” Roe explained, with a noticeable gloominess.

  “Shhhh,” Mr. Bennet instructed. Roe rolled his eyes but obeyed.