Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

  He points beyond them, and Margaret follows his finger to take in the large, four-lane tunnel about fifty yards ahead of them.

  Margaret: No…… Why now? There's no telling how long that thing is gonna be.

  Billy: I'm sorry, Margaret. You can do it. I know you can. We'll just get past this tunnel, and then rest. We'll go slowly, okay?

  Margaret: No way. Forget going slow. Let's just do this, and get it over with.

  Without saying another word, Margaret takes off, limping enthusiastically but with obvious difficulty toward the mouth of the tunnel. Abe follows not far behind, leaving a surprised Billy watching them continue on without him. The girl could complain, but she had some gusto, that's for sure. It's pretty refreshing and almost comedic to him. He follows them into the tunnel just as headily.

  <><><>

  It doesn't take too long for the darkness of the tunnel to take over their vision, and Billy's little flashlight becomes an essential tool. Inside, the air is thick and dusty, and smells like a mixture of copper, feces and gasoline. To Margaret's surprise, Billy is the one who has to try with all of his might to keep from vomiting all over himself and the surrounding cars.

  Margaret: Someone has a weak stomach…

  Billy: I've never… *belch* … smelled… *belch* … anything like this.. *belch* … before.

  Margaret: Just keep it together, man. You want me to hold that light for you?

  Billy: No. I'll be… *belch* … fine.

  The tunnel is filled to the brim with cars, some empty, some with corpses still inside of them, all contributing generously to the stench. Some of the cars are so tightly packed in, and some so crushed together, that the crew has to crawl over some of the cars. Billy goes first, followed by Margaret, who helps Abe up and over, while Billy holds the light on them. They actually have a pretty good system going, holding on to each other's hands while they make their way carefully through the dark. A little more than a quarter of the way through, they find a car, and Margaret notices something different about the corpse inside when Billy's light flashes over it.

  Margaret: Hey, stop for a second. Shine your light here.

  Billy shines his light through the front window of a smashed up white car that still looks relatively clean, a BMW that has rear-ended a black Civic. The BMW's front is crammed up into the poor Civic's bumper, completely wedged in. When his light hits the window, the figure that is leaning it's head back in the seat, lifts itself up and begins pawing at the glass. The zombie, a male, is dressed in a snazzy black and white pinstriped suit that hangs limply on his weight-forsaken body. He looks like a little boy wearing his father's suit. Margaret and Billy assume silently and to themselves that he must've been trapped in there since the beginning of this whole thing.

  Margaret: Look at this guy. I wonder where he was off to all stylish and infected. Maybe he just wanted to look good for his own funeral… Hey.. Is that right? Just trying to look good for your last hours, huh?

  Margaret taps on the window with her knuckle as she mocks the undead gentleman. The thing looks very weak, so she has no fear that it might break through the glass. It can only muster up enough strength to stoke it and moan drearily at her.

  Margaret: Poor guy. It looks like he didn't get the chance to have a… I don't know. What would you call it? A post last supper supper? Billy?

  She takes the flashlight from the kid's hand and shines the light on Billy's face. The hand that wasn't holding the light is covering his mouth and nose. His sensitive gag reflex makes his whole body convulse about every five seconds.

  Margaret: Ha ha, okay let's get out of this place before you blow chunks.

  Before she leaves, she turns the flashlight back on to the trapped businessman. He's still clawing weakly at the inside of the window, still moaning at Margaret.

  Margaret: Okay, sir. We're leaving now. It was nice meeting you. I hope you get to your business meeting safely. I'm sure your partners won't mind you being a bit late… or a bit dead. Actually, they've probably gotten down with the sickness too. I hear there's something going around. Did you catch that? That was a System Of A Down reference, but you've probably never listened to them. You look like more of a Dustup slash L.M.F.A.O. type of guy. Is that right? Do you listen to the Black Eyed Peas?

  The trapped bastard can do nothing but moan at her, to which she nods as if she can understand him, as if she's window shopping at a pet store and poking fun at the puppies inside. Then she feels something searching for her, then something tugging urgently at her sleeve. The light reveals that it is Billy. His hand is still covering his face, and he motions for them to continue.

  Margaret: Hold on. Can't you see we're having a conversation here? What was that trapped man?

  The ghoul moans and paws, paws and moans, while Margaret pretends to understand, nodding and agreeing with its gibberish. It is when just one of his groans seems to be a bit louder than usually, that Margaret finds some weirdness in this situation, already overflowing with it.

  Margaret: What was that?

  The trapped zombie groans again through the car window, and this time it seems even louder. She doesn't even have enough time to ask again, before more gurgling and murmuring can be heard all around her, first soft and then building, and with the echoing, there is no way she can tell which way the horde is coming from.

  Margaret: Uh, Bil..

  Suddenly, she feels her sleeve getting tugged again, this time yanked tremendously harder and toward the ground. She soon finds herself under the same car of the trapped zombie she had just been mocking. She flashes the light and sees Billy's squinting eyes. He frantically mouths for her to turn it off, and she complies.

  Margaret: What about Abe?

  Billy: He'll be… *belch*… He'll be fine.

  They stay hidden under the car, in the opaque darkness for what seems like forever, until the sound of many rustling feet fade into the distance. Billy whispers and pokes at Margaret for his flashlight, and she hands it over to him. He turns it on, pointing it toward the ground at first then slowly bringing the ray's focus to just outside the shelter of the car. They see only one pair of legs, Abe's of course. Satisfied, Margaret starts crawling out from under the car, but Billy pulls her back in.

  Margaret: What? It's just Abe.

  Billy: I just.. *belch*.. I… *belch* wanna be..

  And then the inevitable happens. He tries to turn his head away from her, but can't do it in time, so Margaret ends up having to deal with getting spewed on. He manages to keep it off of her for the most part, and she tries to move away as much as she can, but it's unavoidable, and a bit of puke does get on her shirt and arm.

  Margaret: Oh! What the hell, man!

  She shuffles out from under the car and gets to her feet. The poor clarity of the tunnel causes her to have to reach around for Abe, and she grabs him by his shoulder, shaking off her shirt in utter disgust and wiping the filth from her arm on to Abe's already tattered shirt. Billy shuffles out almost right after her and begins apologizing.

  Billy: I'm so sorry, Margaret. I couldn't take it anymore. But… at least I feel a little better now.

  Margaret: I'm glad… I'm glad you feel better, Billy. I, on the other hand, feel worse. Much worse.

  Billy shines the light on her and sees the girl still shaking the vomit off of her shirt. Her arm is stretched out holding on to Abe's shoulder, but Billy focuses mainly on her torso. She grimaces when the light makes the dark green liquid on her shirt completely clear to her.

  Margaret: Ugh, God. You even got some on my leg. Gross.

  Billy: Aw, come on. It's not that bad. I'm sure you've been covered in worse things over the last few weeks.

  Margaret: Not bad.. Psh… You're lucky you didn't have to hide under there, my undead friend. How sweet is it that you don't have to run and hide from your own kind. I, myself, wouldn't mind being somewhere far away from this little human right now. Why is it dark green?!

  She continues complaining and talking to
Billy indirectly through Abe, while the boy shines the light on the different parts of her body that have been fortunate enough to come in contact with his vomit. He does what he can to help her get cleaned off without actually touching her and gradually brings the light up from Margaret's feet to her hips and torso, then to her chattering face. Next, he brings the light along the length of the arm she has resting on Abe's shoulder to prop herself up, while she continues talking to the zombie about how upset she is. When the light reaches Abe's face, Margaret is shocked to see that it isn't even Abe she's been complaining to, just some left behind stray.

  Margaret: JEEZ…

  She shoves the zombie, and it goes stumbling away, bumping into one of the many surrounding cars. Billy is quick to draw his savage pocketknife, and he quickly puts an end to the walker, then shines the light on Margaret again.

  Margaret: Where's Abe? Abe?!

  A brief scan of the area with his flashlight, and Billy discovers that Abe is standing two or three cars ahead of them. Instead of squinting, his eyes become wide as the light passes over them.

  Margaret: Abe, what the hell, man?

  Billy: Ugh... Okay, can we continue now?

  Margaret: Yea, yea… You could've said something, you undead jerk. Just standing there... Psh.

  They continue on their way, but not before Margaret gets one more taunt in at the imprisoned business zombie. She gives him a goodbye tap on the car window and follows Billy. They get through the rest of the tunnel fairly easily. There are a few zombies stuck inside and in between cars, but they are able to avoid most of them. Margaret finds it a much worse experience than the cornfield. At least they had the light from the moon when they were outside. Now, she's sure it's daylight, but they can't see a damn thing. She feels like they're deep underground, with only a small light as a guide. And sure, they have the light, but sometimes it seems like the darkness is so thick that it overpowers the little battery operated light source. It's a most horrifying experience, but relief springs through them when they see the light at the end of the tunnel.

  Margaret: Oh, God! Thank you, God! Thank you. Thank you.

  The sky has turned from reddish gold to almost completely red.

  Billy: The sun is setting. We should find a place to settle for the night.

  Margaret: Good, cause that's what you promised me. I can't go much further, anyway. This ankle is going to pop… So much for taking it easy… What the hell is that?! Look!

  She points off into the not-so-far distance, and Billy follows her finger to witness what looks to be a large department store. A once famous chain, seen all over the country, now, looking broken down and abandoned.

  Margaret: That isn't a mirage, right? I mean, this isn't a desert, so that can'tbe a mirage, right?!

  Billy: No. No, I don't think that's mirage... Shall we?

  Margaret nods in affirmation and before long the three of them are standing in front of the large building. Because of its size, it didn't look like it was that far away from the highway, but the walk there was enough to exhaust the two fleshlings all over again. They both look beat, but Billy still stands with the resilience of a soldier.

  Billy: Hey, listen. You and Abe stay out here for a minute. I'm going inside to give this place a quick look over. It'll be faster and probably safer if I just do this myself. I'll be back in a few minutes, all right?

  Margaret: (huffs) Be my guest… But be careful. We'll be right here.

  Billy: Right.

  Billy enters the store, and Margaret takes a seat against the wall beside the door, sweating and breathing deeply. She doesn't say a word, and neither does Abe. A few minutes go by and Billy pokes his head outside. Margaret tiredly looks over to him.

  Margaret: All clear?

  Billy: Now, it is.

  Her weary muscles struggle to get her to her feet, so Billy rushes over to assist.

  Margaret: Thanks. I'm good. I can walk. I'm just exhausted.

  Billy lets her walk and goes to hold the door open for her, and for Abe. They head inside.

  Margaret: You've got blood on your arrows.

  Billy: Yea, there were some walkers in here. I got to have a little target practice. No humans though.

  Margaret: (sarcastically) Aw, shucks.

  The three of them enter the department store. There are no lights on on the inside. The only source comes from the large windows that blanket most of the store's front. It gives the front area of the store and the checkout lanes a pleasant shimmer, but the rays fade and die about three quarters of the way up the product aisles. Margaret is in awe of her surroundings and can hardly hear Billy explaining his escapades of how he cleared out the store. A zombie he sniped here, a zombie he sniped there.

  Margaret: You forgot one…

  They stop in the store's large main front aisle, and with one hand, Margaret yanks an arrow out the skull of a dead zombie. Not once does she take her eyes off of all of the material possessions that lay on the shelves in front of her. These are things that she never thought she would see again. She holds the arrow out, and Billy takes it.

  Billy: Oh..

  As they walk down one aisle, she gets an even greater perspective of what the store has to offer. Billy had already run through them, but he never really got to stop and take it all in. Before long, he too, becomes entranced. Currently, they are walking down one of the food aisles, and it is, for the most part, fully stocked with cereals, granola bars, rice crispy treats, Twinkies and any kind of snack the trio can think to have.

  Margaret: I think I'm gonna cry…

  Billy: Go ahead. This is pretty amazing. We should consider ourselves extremely lucky.

  Margaret: Oh, my God... Spaghettios!!!

  She takes off as fast as she can, jogging with a glaring limp and comes to an awkward, staggered stop at the back end of the aisle. When she gets there, she cries out in jubilation. Billy and Abe catch up with her and see that the shelf in front of her is fully stocked with Spaghettios, but not just the original flavor. They have the meatball flavor AND sliced franks. Margaret looks at Billy, and he is amazed to see that tears have actually welled up in her eyes.

  Margaret: (sniffs) Feast?

  And then she witnesses something that she has never seen before, the smallest smile on Billy Tell's lips.

  Billy: Feast.

  <><><>

  Less than twenty minutes later, Margaret and Billy are sitting in the back of Aisle 17, a self constructed space just for them near the back left corner of the store. They sit comfortably in beanbag chairs, surrounded by boxes, and eating all the food they can handle, with all of the equipment they need to eat it comfortably. They had found a microwave in the home appliance section and a surplus of forks, spoons and bowls. Margaret is currently face deep in a bowl of Spaghettios and meatballs.

  Margaret: Oo know, ayi fawt dat cole paghettios werr gud eenuf buh, vihs is juss heben.

  Billy can hardly understand her through the absurd mouth full of meat, sauce and pasta, but he thinks he gets the idea. He agrees with her while chowing down on some Pizza Bagels, his own favorite from his past life.

  Margaret: (swallows) We seriously hit a gold mind here. We can literally survive here for months.. maybe even years, if we have to.

  Billy: Not if we continue to eat like this.

  Margaret: Of course! We'll have to ration everything, but when we do, we'll be able to stay here, hopefully until this whole thing blows over.

  Billy: Don't be so delusional. You really think this thing is just gonna blow over?

  Margaret: I did say 'hopefully'. Don't be rude. All I'm saying is that we can stay here for a while.

  Billy: I guess…

  Margaret: Why do I have the feeling that you're not as excited about this as I am? You must understand what a rare gift this is.

  Billy: Yes, I do, but… I still want to go to Hollywood.

  Margaret: (scoffs) Screw Hollywood. We're in the Garden of Eden right now. We're surrounded by sustenance, and you want
to take a chance travelling all the way to Hollywood?!

  Billy: This place may be your idea of Utopia, Margaret, but it's not mine. You can stay if you want, but I'm still going to California.

  Margaret: Ugh, but why? We have everything we need here. All we have to do is reinforce the openings, blockade those windows for defensive support, and we'll be fine.

  Billy: I'm still going to California.

  Margaret: Billy, don't be stupid. Only an idiot would choose to go back out there, and just leave all of this behind.

  Billy: Well then, I guess I'm an idiot.

  The boy pops the last piece of Pizza Bagel into his mouth, gets up and walks away. Margaret looks at Abe and sighs.

  Margaret: It appears I have offended.

  When Margaret finds Billy, he is in the hunting section looking through the shattered display case at a bunch of large knives. It had been messed pretty bad, Billy expects, by people who were most likely looking for weapons, but there is still a good amount and variety leftover. He slides his fingers along the edge and tip of a serious looking bowie knife as Margaret and Abe come to a stand at his side.

  Margaret: Hey guy,.. I'm sorry… I just… This is a great place isn't it?