by Rose Wynters
I was so horrified I almost didn't hear the soft sound of someone crying close by. I focused on it, pressing my ear to the window. It was definitely coming from the neighbor's house, and my eyes squeezed shut in renewed horror. Please, God, don't let it be what I'm thinking.
“Mom, Dad, do you hear that?” My voice was just a hiss in the darkness. They were quiet, attempting to hear what I heard. I knew whoever it was wouldn't have long. If I could hear them, the zombies could too. “It's coming from next door.”
The Hamptons were our next door neighbors, and they had two children. I wasn't close to either one of them, but it wasn't because I didn't like them. I just didn't know them well. Jayden, their oldest son, was somewhere around twenty. He went to the local college, but still lived at home.
Secretly, I had a crush on him. He was about six feet tall and slender, with long dark hair and dark brown eyes. He'd been two grade levels ahead of me in high school, but it hadn't stopped my friends and I from crushing on him hard. We'd spent a lot of time outside when they were over, just hoping Jayden would come out and talk. Unfortunately, he never had.
As far as I knew, Jayden hadn't dated anyone in high school. If he had, it must have been a girl from another school. Now that I thought of it I'd never heard of him having a girlfriend, but then again, he'd been out of high school for two years now. He probably had one now.
His little sister, Erin, was younger than both of us. She was twelve, but acted like she was my age. I really didn't know her that well either. I usually didn't hang out with kids younger than me anyhow.
“I hear it,” my dad said, breaking the silence. He sighed, his face grim and resolved. “It must be the Hamptons. They have kids. I'm going to have to go check it out.”
“Oh, Dan,” my mom broke in. You could see how terrified she was by the expression on her face. It was obvious she wanted to ask him not to go, but like my dad said, they had kids. Her expression changed to one of determination. “I'm going with you.”
Dad nodded, realizing there was no time to argue. He looked at me with a resigned look on his face, but there was a sense of urgency in his voice. “Stay here, Tabs. We'll be back as soon as we can.”
Tabitha is my name, but my dad always called me Tabs. It was like his version of a pet name. “Okay,” I agreed, trying to sound brave. Inside I was terrified, though. What if a zombie got one or both of my parents?
I followed them to the front door. Quietly opening it, Dad took a look around. The coast must have been clear because he beckoned for my mom to follow him out into the inky darkness. He still held the rifle in his other hand. Once they were on the steps, he turned and gave me a meaningful look. I nodded and quietly closed and locked the door behind them.
Racing to another window, I peeked out. They were walking down the driveway to reach the sidewalk. It wasn't the safest way to go, but bushes separated our house from the neighbors. It was really the only way to make it over there.
They disappeared from sight, as I stood there waiting. It was the longest wait I ever experienced. One minute could have went by, or five. To me, it seemed like a lifetime. I couldn't wait anymore.
I ripped off my gaudy work apron that said “Jim's Grocer” across the front, and quietly followed their footsteps. The sound of crying was a bit louder outside, and it sounded like a girl. I couldn't fault her for crying, and honestly I understood why she would. If she didn't quiet down though, she was going to bring every zombie in the area down on us.
Sticking to the shadows, I darted down the line of bushes and rounded the corner. The house itself looked quiet and dark, but I could hear muttering coming from the backyard. I forced myself to keep walking in that direction. My gut was churning a warning regarding what I would find, one that I just hoped was wrong.
I came around the side of the house and gasped as I slid to a stop and took in the scene. Mom and Dad were standing next to Jayden. His face was pale, eyes red-rimmed and sad. He had his arms wrapped across his body, almost as if he was trying to hold something in. Erin, his sister, was on the ground next to their parents, crying. She was the one I'd heard from our window.
I forced myself to walk closer, when all I wanted to do was turn and run. Run from the horror of the sight of two people lying on the ground dead. Run from the horror in the faces of their children. Run from the threat of death that could come at any moment. My mind screamed in agony, but on the outside I was calm and collected. I wouldn't be doing anyone in favors by falling apart.
Dad was holding the rifle with both hands, constantly alert to his surroundings. I noticed his hands were trembling as I moved past him. My parents owned a restaurant in town, and Dad was generally the cook. The role of survivor had to be a shocking turn for him.
I squatted down, next to Erin. She was lying across her dad's body, with her cheek pressed to his chest. I spoke softly. “I know you're hurting right now, Erin, but we've got to get somewhere safe. There are zombies everywhere.”
“I won't leave them,” she stated loudly, lifting her tear-stained face up and glaring at me. As angry and upset as she was, she looked young and vulnerable. I felt my eyes watering up as I stared into the very face of grief and agony. Would I have responded any differently, had I been in her shoes?
I held my finger up to my lips to remind her to not speak so loud. “Please, Erin,” I begged, not sure what else to say. What do you say to a kid that just lost both of her parents? There weren't any words to make it better, at least none that I knew.
She didn't respond. Instead, she just looked back at her parents and started to sob louder. I stared at her helplessly, about to stand back up when I noticed movement from her dad. I watched him closely, completely puzzled as his hand twitched again. Maybe I'd gotten it wrong. Was he still alive after all?
I shook my head in confusion. “How is he moving?” My voice was so low I was pretty much speaking to myself.
Then it dawned on my sluggish mind. Zombies came from the dead, and her parents were dead. Even now, they were regenerating, likely to rise soon. “Omigod,” I said in horror, as I realized the danger we were in. I stood up quickly. “We've got to get out of here, now.”
Erin glared at me again, her little face set in stubborn lines. She sat up on her heels and crossed her arms, refusing to leave. This time I saw both of his hands move, and I knew it wouldn't be long before he was up again. She was not going to make this easy.
“They are coming back to life, Dad,” I hissed over my shoulder, not waiting for a response. Without giving Erin the option, I reached around her and started pulling her away.
My dad aimed his rifle as she began to scream in rage or grief, I couldn't say which. She was fighting and struggling so hard, I could barely hold onto her. “Help me, Jayden,” I panted out to the grief-stricken man beside me.
My words seemed to animate him, and he pulled Erin to him in a hug. He was able to subdue her small body easily. Dimly I heard him reassuring her, but my attention was focused on the bodies lying on the ground. Their dad was visibly twitching all over, as something caused his body to come back to life.
When it did, it happened fast. Before any of us could move, he jumped up from the ground. His eyes matched the crazed man's eyes from the store. They were red, glowing from within. It was obvious there was only one thing on his mind, and it was flesh and blood.
All of us jerked away, terrified at being caught only feet away from a zombie. I couldn't imagine the thoughts that had to be running through his children's minds, nor did I want to. “You kids start moving toward the house, NOW,” my dad ordered, his hands trembling violently on the rifle. “You too, Beth,” he told my mom, raising the butt to his shoulder as he took aim.
Jayden pulled Erin away, but she screamed and fought with an unholy strength. “I won't leave my dad,” she yelled, her voice hysterical. “He's alive, can't you see that? Daddy,” she screamed, refusing to be calmed.
None of us could have stopped what happened next, but that didn't
make it any easier to bear. Her fists were flailing wildly, hitting anywhere and everywhere on Jayden's body in a desperate attempt to break free. Finally she got it, when she bit him with everything her little body had in it.
“Erin, no,” Jayden screamed, his voice breaking. She ignored him. Running toward the man she knew as Dad, she leaped into his arms. Her lips were creased into a smile, she was happy to be reunited.
It was a false hope. She stood there happily in anticipation, believing he was to hug her as he pulled her close. Instead, her smile quickly turned to pain as he bit into her shoulder, ripping the flesh free.
I wanted to die myself at the sight. Never had I seen anything worse than the site of her dying before my very eyes. She was screaming, only this time in pain, as the tears flowed down my face. I couldn't bear to watch this child loose her life, and it took everything I had in me just to remain on my own feet. Why, oh why, couldn't she have listened to us?
Jayden cried out in agony, all but collapsing in front of us. “No, Erin,” he cried out quietly, sobbing in grief. Her screams stopped as blood gurgled up from her throat and down her chin. Her eyes were wide open and unseeing, her body still. Erin was gone.
His mom began to follow the same pattern, viciously twitching on the ground. It would only be seconds before she, too, was looking for her first victim. “Let's go, now,” Dad bit out, grabbing Jayden by the arm. “There is nothing we can do for them, son.”
Jayden's mind was completely lost in grief. Dad handed the rifle to my mom, and pulled Jayden to him. Wrapping an arm around him, he supported his body as we started back down the driveway. It was slow going for the two men. As much as I love my dad, he is not athletically inclined.
In shock and horror, we'd forgotten one very important fact, though. I'm thankful Mom didn't. If she had, there is no telling how the night would have ended. Time seemed to slow the moment she stopped walking.
Mom stopped and looked back at them, before quickly raising the rifle to her shoulder. Before anyone could move, she pulled the trigger. Jayden's dad fell to the ground only feet away, blood streaming from the bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. He'd been that close.
Chapter 2
I stared in horror at the lifeless body of Mr. Hampton. He was definitely dead this time. My mom gasped, her thin body trembling in reaction.
She looked as if she could fall apart at any time, but my dad wouldn't let her. With one arm still supporting Jayden, he said roughly, “Hold it together, Beth. This isn't the time to fall apart.” Jayden didn't bother to turn to look. He was traumatized enough, and barely holding it together as it was.
My mom handed the rifle to me. Her hands were shaking so badly I had no choice but to take it. It felt extremely heavy in my hands, and it wasn't a pleasant sensation. I wanted anyone but me to have to hold it, but there was nobody else to take it.
The truth was, I wasn't much on guns. I'd never held one before, and certainly didn't know how to properly use it. My knowledge didn't extend beyond pointing and pulling the trigger. I shivered with revulsion at the thought. I couldn't imagine being the person to end a life.
“Tabs, help your mother,” Dad hissed out, moving down the sidewalk with Jayden. I could understand his urgency. We were standing out in the dark, with the world going to hell all around us. If we weren't extremely careful, we'd find ourselves going down with it.
The silence of the night was gone. In the distance, I could see a fire lighting up the sky somewhere near Main Street. There were screams, mixed in with the occasional sounds of shouting and gunfire. It was loud, it was painful to hear, but it was reality. Our reality.
As I followed my father with my arms wrapped around my mother's distraught body, I felt momentarily happy. It was an odd emotion to have considering the circumstances, but I was glad to hear the sounds of shooting and yelling. It let me know that there were still others alive.
Silence was not good. The noise told me that there were still people out there fighting, attempting to stop these nightmarish events. If the wold grew completely quiet, there would be no more hope. It would mean that everyone around us was dead, walking but no longer living. That spark inside of us that makes us human would be blotted out forever, with nothing but darkness and a taste for flesh left behind.
I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that silence would mean the end of humanity.
We made it up the steps and into the house. Dad glared at me over his shoulder as the doorknob turned easily, but I just shrugged. What did he expect me to do? There was no way I'd walk out and not leave a way to get back in fast.
He led Jayden to the recliner and helped him into it, before turning on the table lamp. Jayden's eyes were wide and unblinking, but tears were slowly trailing down his cheeks. I felt sad and helpless inside, and I didn't know what to say to make it better. Nothing that entered into my mind felt quite right.
Dad went back and locked the door, before taking the gun from my numb fingers. I released it with a big sigh and sat down on the couch. “Let's see if the news is on,” I suggested quietly. I was desperate to see and hear what was going on out there, in the areas we couldn't see.
My mom walked quietly to the other recliner and sank down into it. I was happy to see that some of the color was returning to her cheeks, and she was starting to actually blink again. Somewhere in her mind, she must have put the events in the proper place. Mom was like that. She could be counted on to always have a quick rebound.
Dad pulled the heavy draperies together, and grabbed the remote from the table before sitting down next to me. I was relieved to see a face come on the TV when he turned it on. Secretly I'd been worried it wouldn't work, and we'd be completely cut off from the rest of the world.
A reporter I hadn't seen before was at our local police station, and it was frantic with activity. Here in Pleasant we weren't the largest of cities, so I wondered where all the people had come from. Then I realized they weren't police officers. These were residents, looking for protection.
The reporter looked to be somewhere around his early 30's. His handsome face was pale and drawn, his expression frantic. It was soon apparent he wasn't working from any type of script, as he addressed the viewers that were watching. “The police department is urging residents to stay inside and lock your doors, and stay away from what people are classifying as zombies.”
Somebody cried out loudly in the background, but the reporter continued, “Police have no idea what what the death toll is. Numerous attacks have been reported. Do not get close to anyone that appears to be injured in anyway.”
A woman moved in front of the camera, pushing the reporter out of the way with her body, before grabbing the microphone from his slack grip. Her face was pale, but her dark eyes were filled with determination as she stared into the lens. She got right to the point.
“Don't let this reporter sugarcoat this with his evasions. There are dead people walking out there, and they are fast, deadly, and supernaturally strong. There is a name for them, one we've heard before but thought was only fiction. These dead people are zombies, and they don't care about nothing but getting their teeth into your flesh.”
The reporter tried to grab the microphone back, but she shot him a deadly look. “You're not getting this till I'm done,” she told him in a firm voice. “I'm not gonna stand by while you get your five seconds of fame and leave these innocent people out there to die. People deserve to know what they are up against, and how to protect themselves. Now back off.” Surprisingly, he stood still and listened.
She turned back to the camera. “I know there are some of you out there that don't believe in this. You wanna box it all up, neat and tidy-like, and believe that there must be some rational explanation for this, and come morning it will all be gone. If you believe that though, you're going to find yourself dead before the sun ever hits the sky tomorrow.”
She leaned into the camera, and I felt as if she were talking directly to me. “For those of you that want to live tho
ugh, listen and listen well. These zombies aren't the slow, dumb creatures we have all seen on film. These zombies are fast, faster than we are. The more they eat, the stronger they seem to get. The ones I have seen tonight have red eyes as well. The only way to kill them is by shooting them in the head or cutting their head off.”
“I object to that,” the reporter broke in, his voice loud enough for us to hear him. He shook his head at the woman, his expression angry. “I simply can't tolerate you suggesting to viewers to go out and murder these people. We don't know what's wrong with them, maybe they are just ill.”
She looked back at him in disbelief. “So how many people have you ate the last time you felt ill, Mr. big time, know-it-all reporter? I'll tell you what. Since you're so concerned with saving the zombies that wouldn't think twice about killing you, why don't you go out there and show us what you've got? I'm sure your cameraman here would be only to happy to film you through the window when you become dinner.”
The reporter smirked at her before eying her with disdain. “What makes you such an expert?”
