“Byron, are you all right?” Byron gave no response.
“Waiter! Waiter! Could we get the check now, please?” Grace made no attempt to disguise her annoyance, but Ling still smiled.
“Yes, how will you be paying?” Grace eyed Byron, hoping he would wake from his out-of-nowhere stupor and hand Ling his debit card, but he did no such thing. He was like a vegetable. He hardly even blinked.
“Byron! Honey, what is the mat—oh, here, take this!” Grace fumbled around in her purse for her card, and Deraan looked desperately at Byron, then back to Grace.
“Byron! What’s wrong? Grace, there’s something wrong with him!” Grace didn’t have time to respond before Ling screamed in pain. Deraan’s eyes widened when she saw what Byron was doing. His perfect teeth were clamped down hard on Ling’s right arm. Blood oozed out, soaking his white sleeve. Screams broke out around them, some people fled.
Ling was able to get most of his arm back from Byron. His shirt was torn, and the hole revealed teeth marks and ripped skin. Blood dripped down his arm as he gripped it tightly.
“What the fuck?” Ling yelled, and ran off. Byron turned slowly toward Deraan. She felt a heavier contraction than the others as she spoke.
“Byron, what’s with you?” Deraan had her hand on her stomach, and Byron looked down at her robust belly the same way he had looked at his cashew chicken. He leaned toward it, grunting, opening his mouth. “Byron, don’t!”
Grace stood up, her steak knife clenched in her fist. “That ain’t Byron,” she said. Byron turned to her. “That’s right, you ain’t my son. Deraan! Try your best to get out under the table!” Grace jabbed the blade at Byron, trying not to hurt him but keeping his attention. Deraan slinked downward and tried to get under the table. Her body only bent so far, and she shrieked when Byron abandoned Grace and got closer to her.
“I can’t get under!”
Grace moved around the table, scowling through tears when Byron scrambled for Deraan. He was about to begin course two when Grace plunged the knife deep into his neck. Blood splattered her as she pulled the knife out with sickening sthoomp, and she began to bawl.
The hole in Byron’s neck didn’t deter him much. He just grunted as though he were annoyed and went for Deraan again. Blood gurgled out of his mouth and dripped down his chin and neck.
In tears, Deraan shoved Byron. He recoiled, and Deraan grabbed her fork. She pointed it at Byron as he came at her again.
“Byron, why?”
Byron closed in, and Deraan jammed the fork into his eye socket. Almost instantly, he collapsed next to her.
“What is fucking happening?” Deraan said, knowing she would not get an answer. She looked around and saw a woman trip as she was trying to get away from another waiter.
Grace’s condescending voice grabbed Deraan’s attention. “If you’re done gawking at that, let’s get the fuck out of here.” Deraan nodded. With all the strength she could muster, she knocked Byron’s body to the floor. She stepped over it as she slid out of the booth, looking at Grace the whole time. Grace was not crying anymore, but her eyes were red and she was frowning.
“Wait, we’ll need his keys,” Deraan said. She lifted Byron’s arm, reached her way into his pocket, took the keys, and dropped him back under the table.
“Now, let’s go,” Grace said. The restaurant was in chaos, but Deraan and Grace managed to weave through frightened people, tables, dropped orders, and toppled chairs. Before they got to the hostess’s podium, Deraan felt another strong contraction.
When they passed the hostess’s podium, it was empty. Behind them came the sound of shattering glass and crumbling brick. Deraan looked behind her, reeling from the contraction, and Grace couldn’t help but try to get a peek too. A car had crashed through the wall of the restaurant. Grace began to tug on her arm.
“We have to go, Deraan. Come on!”
Deraan and Grace left the restaurant and scanned their surroundings. They got a glimpse of the other side of the car that had just slammed into the building. The airbag had deployed, and the driver was slumped against it. They ran across the parking lot, which was crowded with cars and people trying to get to them. Deraan got an eye full of a woman on the ground being dug into by her teenage son, and nearly cried out, but decided it was safest to keep quiet. Grace got into the driver’s seat of Byron’s car, Deraan climbed in shortly after, and they high-tailed it out of the parking lot. The restaurant shrank in the rearview mirror as they drove off.
The roads were cluttered with cars and people who had decided to get out and run for sanctuary. Deraan felt another contraction, harder and longer than the others, and put her hand on her stomach. Tears ran down her face as she pictured Byron’s, and then she felt a little wetness in the seat of her pants. She gasped for air; it was as if somebody were stepping on her lungs. She took a deep breath and turned to Grace.
“Grace,” Deraan said. Grace turned quickly and met Deraan’s eyes.
“What is it?”
“My water just broke!” Grace looked back at the road. The cars were moving slowly, they were all almost at a halt.
“I thought you weren’t due until next month!”
“I’m not, but the baby’s coming now! We need to get somewhere fast!”
“All right, I’ll see what I can do. How far apart are the contractions?”
“I—I think the last one came a few minutes ago… Maybe four minutes.” Deraan cringed and took a deep breath as another difficult contraction rumbled through her. She felt a good deal of pressure on her lower back, and there were beads of sweat pouring down her forehead. A few of her dreadlocks hung loosely in her face, but she ignored them.
“We need to get you somewhere safe. I don’t know if a hospital would be good, with everything that’s going on.”
“This might be some sort of airborne thing. What if the baby—”
“We lost Byron tonight. We are not losing Caleb too. We’re getting you somewhere safe to have this baby.”
The car ahead of them came to a complete stop. Grace honked the horn, but the car didn’t move. Deraan felt another contraction, and moaned a little. The driver of the car ahead got out of the car, bleeding and screaming as he ran off. Grace pulled into the opposite lane and passed, and as they went by they saw the passenger of the car gnawing at a chunk of flesh held in both hands.
The contractions worsened as Grace headed down the road. The cars began to thin out and the going was faster. Things outside the car were eerily quiet.
“When are we going to stop?” Deraan said. “This baby is coming!”
“Just hold on, honey. Keep breathing. You’re doing great! You just keep on breathing.” An oncoming car swerved into their lane, and Grace hit the brakes. The two cars hit head-on. Deraan, who was going through a contraction at the time, was thrown forward. The seatbelt yanked at the base of her stomach, making her insides scream. The airbags deployed, and then everything stopped.
When the dust settled, Deraan was still crying. She had a welt on her stomach from the seatbelt, and she felt even more out of breath than before. She looked at Grace, who was hunched over a little, just over the airbag as it deflated. She was breathing deep breaths when she looked over at Deraan.
“Are you… are you all right, Deraan?”
“I’m okay,” Deraan said. Another contraction came along. She moaned, and then screamed. “Let’s get this damn baby out!”
Grace looked around, and noticed they were sitting parallel to the little strip mall where Frank’s Frozen Treats was located. The parking lot was nearly empty. Grace turned to Deraan and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Can you make it across the parking lot over there?”
“I think so.” Deraan was breathing heavily, coming off a contraction, bracing for the next.
“Let’s go then!” Grace and Deraan opened their doors quickly, and they made it onto the sidewalk. It was hard for Deraan to run in her condition. Caleb was coming very soon into the world. Dera
an looked around anxiously, and grabbed Grace’s hand. She held it tight as another contraction began. Grace squeezed back and looked from Deraan to Frank’s. It was empty, but the lights were on.
“We’ll go to the ice cream place,” Grace said. “It’s safe in there, from the looks of it. We’ll draw the shades, and after I head back out, you lock the door. I won’t be long, I’m just going to that store over there to grab some supplies.” Deraan nodded.
The door was unlocked, so in they went. It was very cool inside, and very quiet, until a scrambling Frank’s employee rushed out from the back freezer. He looked at Deraan and Grace, his hands were covered in blood, and so was his white apron.
“Who are you?” the kid said. He turned to a nearby sink and began scrubbing his hands.
“We’re just taking refuge from this… whatever this is. My daughter here’s pregnant, and the baby’s coming.”
Even through the constant and extremely painful contractions, Deraan was moved by Grace referring to her as her daughter. Grace had never called her that, and Deraan didn’t think she ever would.
“Oh my… oh my God.” The kid turned to gape at them, and then turned back to the sink. “Just leave me out of it. I don’t know the first thing about delivering babies.”
“Will you please just stay with her while I run for supplies? I don’t want her to be alone.” The kid dried his mostly washed hands on some paper towels, and looked wide-eyed at Grace. He shook his head, and whatever he tried to say was too choked up.
“Please. It’ll just be five minutes. I’m just gonna grab some shit and get back here. She’s getting close, and I need someone to stay with her. Will you, please?”
“I…”
“Damn it, boy! You gonna be a man and stay or ain’t you?”
“I’ll stay,” the kid said. He moved around the counter toward Deraan, who had taken a seat in one of the chairs. She was breathing heavily and moaning from the pain of another contraction.
“Close the shades, and lock this door…” Grace squinted to read the nametag on the kid’s apron. “Dan. Just keep watch over her, get her a damp cloth, and I’ll be right back.” Dan nodded, and followed Grace to the door. “Lock it, remember?”
“I’ll lock it.”
“And don’t let anyone in. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Grace left Frank’s, looked around briefly, and ran to the market, which was two stores to the right and currently being ransacked. People were running out the doors, and all of Grace’s instincts were telling her not to go inside, but she needed to. A man came through the doors and almost bumped into her.
“Don’t go in there.” His voice was scratchy, and caught in his throat. “It’s a bloodfest! Whatever you do…” There was screaming somewhere behind him, and he abandoned Grace and the rest of his sentence. Grace swallowed hard and stared at the doors.
“Move your ass, Grace,” she said. “Deraan and baby Caleb need you now.” Grace grimaced, furrowed her brow, and forced her way through the doors.
The cart corral was nearly full, and Grace snatched one up quickly, then raced down the middle aisle. There was a towering water display on the end cap, and she grabbed a twenty-four pack and threw it into the cart.
Grace kept a low profile as she worked her way through the store. She avoided everyone she saw, crazy or not, and soon had several blankets, towels, a pillow, and dozens of rolls of gauze from the pharmacy. She stopped in the kitchen aisle to check her cart, couldn’t think of anything else to grab, and turned to leave the store. Behind her was a middle-aged woman. She groaned. Grace glared into her eyes. They weren’t the eyes of any normal person.
“Get the fuck out of my way!”
“Fohhhhhnuhh,” the middle-aged zombie replied. She lunged forward and grabbed Grace’s arm.
“No you fucking don’t!” Grace jerked her arm back, tore a skillet from where it hung on a rack, and came at the zombie from the side. It was a sturdy skillet, and it made a loud, deep clang! as it made contact with the zombie’s skull. The zombie didn’t make a sound, but it fell to its knees, where it clawed at Grace’s ankles. Even old and out of breath, Grace was able to walk away, and the zombie continued to writhe on the ground as Grace rushed the cart to the front of the store. There wasn’t an employee to be found, and nobody around seemed too concerned with paying for the things they were taking, so Grace had little trouble walking through the doors and ignoring the loud beeping sound they made after her.
Grace hurried across the lot, back to Frank’s. She knocked calmly on the glass door of the ice cream shop.
“It’s me, Dan. Come open the door!” Dan rushed to the door and flung it open.
“I thought you’d abandoned us. Her contractions are even worse!” Dan took a deep breath, cleared his throat. “I think she’s ready to pop it out!”
“All right!” Grace said. She pushed the cart inside, and turned to the door to lock it. Dan stopped her.
“I’m sorry, I have to get home to my family. I heard on the radio this is happening all over. I’m sorry, but I have to go!”
“That’s fine. You helped us enough. Good luck; be safe out there, hun.” Grace found herself offering him a smile. Dan nodded and headed outside, toward a truck that was parked near the front of the store. Grace turned to Deraan, who looked like she wanted to throw the chair she was gripping with both hands.
“Get this thing out of me!” Deraan was crying, sweating, and screaming; she looked up at Grace as she rushed over with things from the cart.
“All right, try to quiet down! We don’t want those things hearing us. Just breathe. You’ll do fine.” Deraan breathed in and out, in and out, and then cringed. Another contraction. Grace took the blanket and pillow and set up a nice little spot for Deraan.
Deraan lay down and removed her jeans and underwear. Baby Caleb began making his way out of her, and she was screaming bloody murder. Tears and sweat ran down her face. She tilted her head back and closed her mouth, moaning loudly as she gave one good push.
“That’s great! You’re doing great!” Grace said.
For the next four hours, the two women worked hard. Finally Grace got a view of Caleb’s head beginning to poke out into the cool air of the shop, and she cried tears of joy.
“Oh my God!” Deraan screamed. She let out a sob and pushed with all her might.
“I can see his head! Give it some more, honey! You’re getting there!”
“I’m trying!” Deraan pushed, and Caleb’s head emerged a little more. And then some more. And then Deraan felt a release of pressure and pain, and Grace held out her arms with a smile, lifting the baby in her arms.
It was the most beautiful sight Grace had seen since she’d watched Byron come into the world, and for a moment the joy she felt outweighed the grief of him leaving it.
Deraan tilted her head up when she heard the sound of her baby crying. She smiled, and all her pain turned joy.
Grace separated Caleb from Deraan and took him to the sink, where she had set up a little station. She cleaned Caleb off and wrapped him in a towel.
“My baby,” Deraan said. “Oh my God, he’s so beautiful.” Her voice caught in her throat and was hoarse from labor, but she was the happiest she’d ever been. Grace knelt down and set Caleb on Deraan’s chest. Deraan embraced him, closing her eyes, letting out a relieved sigh. “I really can’t thank you enough… and I really am sor—” Grace cut her off with a wave of her hand.
“It’s really all water under the bridge at this point, I think. We both acted like children, and I think it’s time we grew up. Don’t worry about it.” Deraan nodded. Caleb was making little random faces up at the ceiling, and then he looked into Deraan’s eyes. She met his gaze, smiled, and then realized how much Caleb looked like Byron. She began to cry again. Grace wrapped her arms around Deraan and tried to comfort her as best as she could.
“I-I just wish Byron could have been here to see little Caleb. He’s so beautiful…”
“I know, honey. I know.” Grace felt tears fall down her face, and sniffled. “We’ve just both got to be strong now. I don’t know what’s happening right now, but we need to be strong. We need to keep the baby safe.”
“You’re right. But where will we go?”
“I think we should head to a sturdier building than this, for sure. Maybe back to your place. But for tonight, this will do us just fine. You and the baby need your rest. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“That’s probably best,” Deraan said. She hugged her baby. Grace smiled and hugged the both of them in the silent calm of the ice cream shop.
BAZK
“Guys, we need a name,” Sam said. “Something badass.”
Harry tapped steadily but quietly on the hi-hat before him as the five teens stood, sat, or leaned around the garage. Their ears were still ringing, and the summer heat filled the room, but their band was a labor of love.
“Forget the name,” Wilder, their lead guitarist, said. “We need to not suck, first.”
“We don’t suck,” Sam said. Wilder raised his eyebrows momentarily, then looked away.
“We have, like, two songs we practice over and over,” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure all of Harry’s neighbors hate us.”
“I have an idea,” Andrew said. “Harry has Rock Band, let’s just start it up and have it randomly generate a band name, and whatever it comes up with first will be our name.”
The five exchanged glances.
“That’s a great idea!” Sam said. “We take the first name it gives us, even if it’s a winkie name, agreed?”
“Winkie?” Andrew, being relatively new to the band, looked at Harry.
“His dad’s British, it’s something his family used to always say.”
“All right,” Wilder said. “Let’s start it up.”
****
“This was an awful idea,” Sam said. The five stared at the screen, the terrible words burning into their eyes in a bright shade of yellow, never to change, no matter how badly the boys willed it.
After the Bite Page 18
