Dead Meat: Day 8

by Nick Clausen

  “Think of the zombie curse,” Dan says. “That doesn’t grow weaker with each new person it reaches.” He points to the bowl. “I think the spell in this water is like that. I think it’ll live on in whatever else water it touches.”

  “So,” William says, “are you saying, if we put a single drop of it in a bathtub, that entire bathtub would become like the potion?”

  Dan thinks, then nods. “It might take some time, but I think so, yeah.”

  “If that’s true,” William says, “then we might actually have a chance.” He jumps to his feet. “What are we waiting for? It’s time for another round of testing!”

  THIRTY-SIX

  “Just use a very tiny drop,” William instructs him. “We need to see if it’s true this stuff doesn’t get diluted.”

  Dan nods, concentrating on the bowl in his hands. He dips the tip of his finger in the potion, then holds his finger over Holger’s bathtub, which is filled to the brim with lukewarm water.

  A single drop forms at the end of his finger, then falls into the tub with a ploink. The red color dissipates immediately as the drop dissolves in the water. Then, to Dan’s surprise, the whole tub turns pink, matching the exact color of the potion in the bowl.

  “Holy shit,” William says, grinning. “That seemed to work.”

  “Let’s find out for sure,” Liv says, dipping the bucket into the tub and scooping up a gallon of the now pink water.

  Dan brings the bowl, and all three of them go back upstairs to join Dennis, who’s sitting by the window staring down into the courtyard.

  Dan can tell he’s looking at his mother, who’s still lying down in the gravel next to the horde of zombies. To his surprise, though, as Dennis turns to face them, there’s no tears in his eyes.

  “Did it work?” he asks.

  “Looks like it,” William says, pointing to the bucket in Liv’s hand. “We’ll find out in just a second.”

  Liv brings the bucket to the window, lifts it up, then tilts it and pours the whole thing out. She makes a quick swing from right to left, spreading the pink water out over as large an area as she can.

  Dan hears the water splash down over the zombies like a gush of heavy rain. They all huddle together by the windows and look down.

  “Jesus goddamn Christ,” William breathes. “Will you look at that?”

  Dan feels a shimmer of elation in his gut. Almost all of the zombies have collapsed in a big pile, only four or five still standing, waddling around clumsily among their fallen comrades. And as soon as they touch some wet clothes, they too topple over. In less than ten seconds, there are no more living dead people in the courtyard.

  “It fucking worked,” William says, turning to Dan with a broad smile. “You little genius! You just saved the fucking world, you know that?”

  “Well, let’s not—”

  Dan is cut off as William grabs him in a bear hug, squeezing the air from his lungs as he lifts him up, covering his forehead with kisses.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

  “Okay, okay,” Dan croaks, laughing. “Put me down please.”

  William puts him down and steps back. Liv smiles at Dan warmly, and even Dennis seems to be relieved.

  “This is very good news,” Dan says, feeling like he ought to say something. “If this keeps holding true, that we can dilute the potion as much we want, then there’s actually hope of reversing this thing.”

  “Yeah,” William says, clapping his hands together. “But we’d better get to work, because we have this crazy deadline, remember? And it literally is a fucking dead-line.”

  Dan hasn’t forgotten about the nuclear threat hanging over their heads, though he’s been pushing it to the back of his mind, focusing instead on the task at hand.

  “Okay, so how do we do it?” Liv asks. “How do we get the water out to people?”

  “That’s one problem,” William says. “Another one is, how do we tell people about it?”

  “How about YouTube?” Liv suggests. “Can’t we just film what we just did and put the video online? We’ll share it everywhere we can, social media and all that. It might go viral. That’s the fastest way of reaching people.”

  “You’re right,” William says. “The thing is, are people still concerned with checking Facebook? Maybe most have even lost their phones or internet connection. Then we can’t reach them.”

  “How about the radio?”

  They turn to look at Dennis, who’s been quiet so far.

  “I noticed Holger has one in the bunker,” he goes on, shrugging. “I think I know how to put out a livestream.”

  “You do?” William asks, obvious surprise in his voice.

  Dennis nods. “I’ve always been good with … tech stuff.”

  “Great!” Liv says. “Let’s get on with that.”

  “There’s one more thing,” William says, putting a hand in his pocket and taking out a piece of crumbled-up paper. “One of the soldiers gave me his number. In case we found out something important. I think this more than qualifies. I’ll give him a call and tell him about it. I don’t know, maybe he can do something … postpone the attack or whatever. I think it’s worth a—”

  “Hello?”

  A woman’s voice from down in the courtyard.

  They all stare at each other for half a second, then they rush to the windows.

  Dan expects to see someone coming from the driveway. But the woman is standing right in the middle of the pile of zombies. Her clothes are torn, her hair all messy. She looks around, holding herself.

  “Hello?” she calls again, her voice weak. “Anybody? What … what happened?”

  “Hey!” William calls out. “Up here!”

  The woman flinches and turns her face up at them. “Who are you? Where am I?”

  “You’re at Old Mile Drive,” William tells her.

  “How did I get here?” the woman says, looking around. “What is all this? Who are all these people?” Panic is working its way into her voice.

  “She must be delusional,” Dan says in a low voice. “We’d better go down there and—”

  “Ooh,” someone groans.

  Dan sees one of the zombies starting to move—it’s a young guy on the far left, some yards from the woman. He sits up and looks around, groaning some more.

  “Oh, no,” Dan hears himself say, feeling his gut drop. “It didn’t work after all.”

  “Fuck, I knew it was too good to be true,” William says. “Hey, lady! Get out of here! Run away!”

  “No, wait!” Liv says, pointing. “Look at him. He’s … different.”

  The guy looks around, rubbing his forehead, and Dan can tell Liv is right. He’s obviously not acting like a zombie; more like someone who just woke up from a coma. “What the hell?” he mutters. “Where am I?”

  “What is this?” the woman asks again, starting to make her way out from the zombie pile. “Someone tell me what happened, please!”

  “Yeah, I’d like to know that too,” the guy says, getting to his feet, swaying uncertainly for a moment before finding his balance. “Ooh, man, my head is killing me …”

  “Holy … hell,” William breathes, looking at them. “You guys see what I’m seeing?”

  “I think so,” Liv mutters.

  Dan can only nod as a third person—another young woman—begins to stir and tries to sit up.

  Dennis is the one to state it clearly, his voice hoarse with awe: “They’re waking up.”

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  “Okay, you guys ready?” William asks, looking at them in the dark hallway, his hand resting on the lock for the front door.

  Dan nods. He’s the only one not armed. Liv is holding a knife from Holger’s kitchen, Dennis has his handgun, and William himself is carrying the rifle.

  “Here we go,” William says, turning the lock and opening the door.

  The zombies are literally pressed up against the house, lying like a pile of leaves all wrapped in each other. Except of co
urse for the ones now standing up.

  It took them a few minutes to go get the weapons ready, and William had expected more people to have awakened by now, but he only counts five.

  Three of them have grouped together outside the pile of zombies, one is sitting on the ground, holding his head, and the last one—the woman who first woke up—is wondering about aimlessly, talking to herself.

  “Let me talk to them,” William says, stepping outside and into the zombies. He bends down and checks the pulse of the one at his feet. “Nothing,” he mutters, then goes on to the next. “Also nothing. They haven’t come back yet.” He straightens up and says in a loud voice: “Hello! Can I have your attention?”

  All five ex-zombies turn their heads to look at him—except for the guy sitting on the ground; he pukes instead, making a gurgling sound as something dark spills from his mouth to the ground. He spits then wipes his mouth and looks at William.

  “Where are we?” one of the others ask. “What is this?”

  “This is a very strange situation,” William says. “I’ll tell you what happened, but I can’t tell you exactly how it happened.” He points to the zombies. “You see these guys? You know what they are?”

  “They’re infected,” the wandering woman says, finally stopping to look at William. “The virus thing … I remember that.”

  “Yeah, me too,” another one chimes in, and the rest—including the puking guy—nod in unison.

  “You’re right,” William says. “And you guys were infected too. Until a few minutes ago.”

  A moment of dead silence as he lets the message sink in. The people in the courtyard exchange wary looks.

  “But we cured you,” William goes on. “I can’t go into details, but this thing, this virus as you call it … it’s not really a virus. It was a curse. And we lifted that curse. We honestly didn’t expect any of you to wake up again, but that’s just great news. So … I guess … welcome back!”

  The woman breaks into tears.

  “Wait,” one of the guys says. “I can’t remember anything … just that … someone scratched me …” He bends and rolls up his pantleg to show a long, thin red line along his shin. “Then I got a fever, and … and it’s all just dark from there …”

  “That’s the same for me,” another woman—who can’t be more than fifteen—chimes in, touching her chin which bears the marks of fingernails. “How long were we out?”

  William throws out his arms. “We couldn’t tell you. Depends on when you di—got infected,” William corrects himself at the last second. No point in spilling all the beans at once on these poor bastards. Returning from death can’t be an easy thing, even without having to face that fact mentally.

  One of the guys looks out over the zombies. “What about all these people? Why haven’t they woken back up yet?”

  “Again, couldn’t tell you.”

  Dan steps out next to William. “I think not all of you will,” he says. “It looks to me like you guys are relatively fine; you don’t have any bite marks or major injuries. You all got infected by scratches, right?”

  The five people exchange looks and nods.

  Dan gestures towards the zombies still on the ground. “Most of these guys are in a really bad state. And they also seem to have been … attacking others.”

  William gets it right away; the zombies who haven’t come back are either sporting major wounds or their faces are covered in dried-up blood, suggesting they got their fair share of the feast.

  “God, this is crazy,” one of the women says, going for her pocket. “I lost my phone. I need to call my husband. I need to call my family. You guys have a phone I can use?”

  “About that,” William says. “Things are looking a little … out of control right now. There’s no need to panic, but … most of Europe has been infected.”

  A collective gasp from the ex-zombies.

  “But … I need to know my family is safe!” the woman goes on. “Please!”

  “I can’t tell you whether they are or not,” William says earnestly. “We do have a phone you can borrow, but please let us check you first. We need to make sure you really are all right. Please come inside.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  How long has it been?

  Iver has no idea.

  There’s no clock in the bathroom. Only a tiny window. The daylight has gone, replaced with darkness. It must be close to midnight.

  Adam is finally sleeping. It took Iver half an hour to get him to calm down enough to slip into sleep.

  At least the boy wasn’t hungry; Iver had fed him from the bag Leif left for them. He had managed to find the rest of the food in Agnete’s kitchen, which was mostly canned stuff, crackers and nuts. There was enough for them to make it three, maybe four days if he was careful in rationing the food.

  Iver looks at the sleeping toddler, lying in the bathtub, which is stuffed with all the towels from the closet. Iver wrapped one around the boy’s head too, like a turban. It seemed to help keep the noises at bay.

  The zombies are clambering at the door—which, luckily, is heavier and stronger than the one in the bedroom. The hinges are bigger and look like they can withhold more pressure.

  But it won’t hold forever; the push from the horde of zombies is simply too much. Iver can tell it’ll budge sooner or later.

  It could be days. It could be only hours.

  For now, though, they’re good.

  The sound of the deads is also intruding from the hole in the wall above the toilet. Iver managed to jam the stool into the opening, then used the shower curtain to cover it up. It wasn’t much, but at least it blocked the view to the zombies.

  The hole was up high enough anyway that none of the zombies could see through it, and they could only just reach it with their groping hands. Which meant that Iver wasn’t particularly worried they would make it through—not unless they suddenly learned to jump.

  There was of course the possibility that one could climb onto another, maybe if one fell down, the others would simply tread on him and use him as a stepping stone. But so far, that hasn’t happened, and with the stool jammed into the hole, they would have a hard time squeezing through to the bathroom anyway.

  Iver should be sleeping, he knows that. He’ll be needing his strength.

  But he can’t. Not right now.

  Instead, he’s working on the handle bar. It’s secured to the wall right next to the tub. It’s one of those U-shaped ones you see in old people’s homes, the ones they use for support when stepping in and out of the bath.

  Iver is using the coin he had in his pocket to slowly and meticulously loosen the screws holding the bar. It’s heavy enough that it’ll provide him with an effective weapon.

  And he knows he’ll be needing it.

  Because the zombies won’t stop until they manage to break down the door.

  And there’s no other way out; the window is too tiny to get through.

  Even though it’ll be futile to fight back against several hundred zombies, Iver is going to do it anyway. The alternative—just letting the deads have at him and the toddler—is too gruesome to even think about.

  So, when the time comes, Iver will fight back. He will try to be brave. Like Leif was. Like Agnete was.

  If not for himself, then for Adam. He owes the little guy that much.

  He looks at him, his round, pale face glowing in the darkness of the tub.

  “I’m sorry, buddy,” Iver whispers, his voice breaking. “It’s quite the mess I got you into. I’m sorry.”

  He can’t believe they’re all gone. It all happened so fast. Within a couple of hours.

  Now it’s just him and Adam.

  And soon, they’ll be dead too.

  Iver feels the tears begin to spill down his cheeks. He doesn’t do anything to wipe them away. Instead, he turns back to the wall and continues working on unscrewing the bar, ignoring the sounds from the door.

  At least he’ll go down swinging.

 
THIRTY-NINE

  Dan is sitting in Holger’s kitchen, staring at his hands resting in his lap. He’s dead tired. Now that the ritual is over, he can finally feel his energy crashing.

  William comes out from the living room. “There you are.”

  Dan looks up, barely able to hold his head. “How are they?”

  William sits down across from him. “They’re fine as far as we can tell. Physically, anyway. They all ate something and drank a lot of water. They’re also doing pretty well mentally, considering what they been through. They can’t remember being out, but they almost all remember what led up to it. They can recite their names and social security numbers. They can talk and read and give us things like who’s prime minister and what’s five times five, so I’m very hopeful.”

  Dan nods. “That’s great news. I really wasn’t expecting that to happen. Did anyone else come back?”

  William shakes his head. “So far, only the five of them.” He nods towards the courtyard. “I went out to count them. We cured 104 people total. Five of them coming back is close to five percent.”

  Dan just nods. He’s too tired to think.

  “This is really big news,” William goes on. “If this is an accurate sample, then 5 percent of the people who died from this thing will come back to life once we break the curse.”

  “I know,” Dan says, blinking.

  Liv and Dennis join them from the living room.

  “You guys ready to shoot the film?” William asks.

  “We are,” Dennis says. “I have the camera ready. We just need another … you know, a dead guy.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem,” William says, nodding towards the window. “There are already eight more out there. Don’t worry, they are newcomers, I made sure. The others are still just lying around.”

  “How is it even possible?” Liv asks in a low voice, nodding towards the living room, from where they can hear the five survivors talking with each other. “I mean, they were dead, right? They weren’t just cursed; they were medically dead too.”