Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

  Billy: How should I know? We're going to have to wait it out.

  Margaret: Wait?! For how long?

  Billy: Until we find out how many there are and what kind of people we're dealing with. Just make sure you and Abe stay out of sight… and from now on keep the talking to a minimum.

  Margaret nods silently. She can tell by Billy's face and vocal tone that he has slipped back into survival mode. She can even feel, in her own body, the tenseness returning to her chest and neck; stress caused by harsh living, and a reminding taste of the bitter reality they actually live in. The voices grow louder, letting them know that the strangers, who sound like men, are getting closer. Soon enough, they are able to make out what is being said.

  Man1: Where d'ya think they went?

  Man2: I dun know, but take a look at dis mess, wudjah? And you saw dem dead zombies layin' around. Dere's anudda one. They musta tried tah stay here but got surprised attacked and split or sumthin'. Maybe dhey're dead.

  Man1: Lucky fer us. Dis place is all ours now.

  Man2: Lucky f'dem. They didn't run into us. Heh heh.

  Billy signals to Margaret with his fingers that there are two people out on the floor. She nods to let him know that she understands, then he signals her to wait again.

  Man1: Wow, look at this fuckin' mess; chairs, vidia games and a TV setup. These guys had it nice before dey left, eh Sam?

  Sam: Sure Tully, but fuck em. This place is awes now.

  Margaret scoffs to herself, not quite under her breath, and Billy quickly turns to her with a finger on his lips reminding her to be quiet. She gives him a weak apology without words, throwing in more "calm down" gestures than apologetic ones. In her mind the new arrivals sound like simpleminded thugs. When she hears them talk, her mind instantly pictures The Joker's goons from any of the Batman movies or shows. All she can keep wondering to herself is what the hell are New Yorkers doing in Oregon, and what makes them think they can just waltz right in and steal her home, although temporary. She finds herself becoming more annoyed than scared.

  Believing that the strangers are now in visual range, Billy cautiously peeks around the corner with one eye. His keen senses once again prove him right, and in less than two seconds Billy sees two rough'n'tumble looking men come out from the entertainment section that he had just made a mess out of. There is one large fellow, sort of chubby but more so just big boned and a smaller, skinnier man with a harder face. They wear the normal zombie apocalypse attire of a tattered t-shirt and jeans. The bigger one wears a sleeveless jeans jacket.

  Tully: Holy shit, they got everything here! When's the last time you saw dese?

  The bigger man holds up a few CDs and a pair of sampler headphones and shakes it excitedly at his partner's face.

  Sam: Ah, put that down, ya idiot. This whole outbreak only started like tree weeks ago. You're MPtree player only died a couple days ago. Drop dat, will ya? Let's check the resta dis place out.

  Billy is surprised to learn that the heavier voice belongs to the smaller guy and the lighter voice belongs to the big one. It's quite comical, like your classic loony tunes mobster type sketch, but the expression on Billy's face would never let on that that is what he's thinking. He watches as the smaller, more serious man walks away from his friend, coming toward their hiding spot to do more exploring. The big fellow dismisses his colleague, disregarding his negative remarks with a contemptuous wave of his hand and puts on the headphones. Billy withdraws his single eye back behind the cover of the wall.

  Billy: They've got knives and the smaller man has a bat.

  Margaret: What do you think we should do?

  Billy: I'm not sure yet, but something tells me we won't be able to live with these guys. At least, not easily.

  Margaret moves Billy out of her way and takes her own turn peeking around the corner. She sees the bigger man dancing along to whatever he is listening to on the headphones, but there is no sign of the smaller man. She brings her head back in and out of sight.

  Margaret: Where's the other one?

  Billy: They separated. He's walking around.

  Margaret takes one more look around the corner at the big dancing man again and then brings it back in to Billy.

  Margaret: You're right; we can't live with these guys. That one guy has assholian hoodlum written all over him.

  Billy: What do you propose we do? Maybe it would be best to just hide out for the night, wake up early so we can get our stuff then leave.

  Margaret: Hmmm… I don't know about that.

  Margaret looks around the corner once again, and this time, really takes in her subject. Soon it becomes clear to her that there is no other solution. She pulls her head back in and makes her proposal to Billy.

  Margaret: I think we have to kill them.

  Billy: What?!

  This time Margaret is the one that has to hush Billy and remind him to keep it down. The surprise on Billy's face throws her off for a moment, but she stands her ground.

  Margaret: Just hear me out. Do you wanna go out there and try talking to these guys? You really think we'll be able to reason with them; me, a seventeen year old girl, and you? No offence, cause you're like the smartest human I've ever met, but you're only fifteen. They won't take us seriously.

  Her explanation starts to sink in for the boy.

  Billy: You might be right.

  Margaret: You know I'm right. And to be quite frank with you Billy, I don't want to chance sneaking around or even being anywhere near these guys. The world has already gone to hell, and I'm not trying to get raped on top of that, all right?

  That fact alone puts the little heroic boy almost completely on Margaret's side.

  Billy: So… what are you going to do?

  Margaret: How about your bow and arrow?

  Billy: It's out there.

  Margaret: You think you can get it without being seen?

  Billy: Maybe, but I don't know if I can shoot a human in the head, Margaret.

  Margaret: Why not? It's the same thing. Just pretend they're zombies. This is war and these are bad, bad men.

  Billy: Even so, I can't pretend. These guys are obviously still alive, and I don't know them personally. I just… don't know if I have it in me. Actually,.. I know I don't have that in me.

  Margaret sighs and starts thinking of other ideas. She doesn't blame Billy for being a little apprehensive. She, herself, doesn't think she could go through with killing them either. Killing zombies is one thing, but killing a live human that bleeds red and screams in pain is another. And that is when another light bulb goes of in the clever girl's head.

  Margaret: What if I send Abe?

  Billy: Margaret…

  Margaret: Hey, you said he needs human flesh anyway. This is the perfect chance for him to get some, uh, "real nutrients".

  Billy: This is just all together weird, and I don't want to be apart of it, and I can't believe I'm about to say this but… if you're going to go through with this, using Abe is probably the best way.

  Margaret: Right? At least we keep our hands clean.

  Billy: Too bad we won't be able to say the same for our consciences and souls.

  Margaret: Forget about that. This is war. It's every man for themselves, survival of the fittest. All that stuff.

  Billy: (sighs) What if they kill him first? He's only one zombie.

  Margaret: Damn. Good point.

  She looks around the corner again. The big man is still humming and dancing to the tune in his headphones.

  Margaret: We have to do it now, while they're separated.

  With a Billy-like briskness, Margaret takes Abe and pushes him out into the opening of the entrance of the Layaway and Returns Department, in plain view of the big man. All the man would have to do is look up and to the left, and he would see Abe wobbling there, but he is much too involved in his music.

  From their hiding spot around the corner, Margaret tries to get Abe to follow his perhaps forgotten instincts. She hopes upon hope tha
t he hasn't lost his taste for humans completely.

  Margaret: Abe, go... Eat.

  Abe stares at her blankly as she waves him in the direction of his waiting meal. She even does a little dramatization, pretending to take a bite out of Billy's neck. He shrugs her off.

  Margaret: Go. Fetch. Eat.

  She jabs her index finger at the big guy, and Abe turns his attention to him.

  Margaret: Eat. Eat. Fetch, dammit.

  All of a sudden, Abe begins casually walking toward the man. Margaret breathes a sigh of relief.

  Billy: What if he gets noticed?

  Margaret: Shush. Abe'll make it.

  She pokes an eye around the corner and sees that Abe is almost about half way to his target.

  Margaret: Come on, come on. Go faster.

  He doesn't go any faster, but his pace is steady. The bulky fellow shows no signs of consideration for anything but what he is listening to. He even seems to be getting more into it. Margaret can hear him singing some of the lyrics.

  Tully: I wanna ride it aaaall night long! Duuh, duuuuh, duuuh! If you're going my way, na na na naa na all night long!

  Margaret: Oh, my God. He's almost there. Aaalmost.

  Abe is not but three steps away from the man when the thug finally sees something moving in his peripheral.

  Tully: O-oh, Jesus!!!

  But he doesn't even enough time to take the headphones off before Abe has taken a strong hold on him.

  Off in the hunting section of the store, the large man's smaller partner is admiring the guns and knives.

  Sam: Ho ho, boy. We really did hit the jackpot on this one. Hey Tully, get over here and look at this!!

  Obviously, Tully doesn't hear him with the headphones still blaring Tom Cochrane in his ears. Sam, the smaller thug, could probably spend the rest of the night in this section, playing with the knives and testing out the guns, but it is the bone-chilling scream from his friend that sends him running out of the hunting aisle, his baseball bat tightly clenched in his hand, ready for action.

  Margaret sees when the man comes barreling out of the aisle and must take witness of his friend already on the ground getting his neck and torso eaten out by Abe. He skids to a stop at first and is frozen at the sight.

  Sam: Tully… aw, no... no…

  A myriad of emotions run through the little tough man's body; confusion, skepticism, fear, loneliness, sorrow, anger, and then unbridled rage. Margaret can see it all clearly from her hiding spot behind him, in the way his whole body tightens up and his grip squeezes around the handle of the bat. She can tell he is about to take action.

  Sam: TULLY!!!!

  Margaret: Oh, shit.

  Billy: What's wrong?

  Margaret doesn't have time to answer Billy's question as the disgruntled Sam starts toward Abe, first at a moderate pace then into a light jog. He means to spill the zombie's rotten brains all over the music sampling display for what it has done and is still doing to his buddy. But it would be a cold day in hell before Margaret let anything happen to her now beloved pet, who is becoming more like a friend.

  She snaps into action and darts out of her hiding spot in a full out sprint, following behind the man while unsheathing her own knife, an unused one she had chosen from the store's stock the night before. Billy watches on in a sort of horror as she charges after the man.

  Margaret: HEY!

  The man turns and before he has a chance to spout even a syllable, he feels the cold steel of Margaret's blade inside of his abdomen. For a moment the two strangers lock eyes. He looks absolutely confused and dumbfounded seeing this young human girl in front of him. She twists the blade, and the metal baseball bat falls from the man's hand to the department store floor. The scruffy man follows soon after when Margaret shrugs him off of the knife. He hits the ground before the bat finishes rattling around, and Margaret picks it back up. He tries to beg for his life, but nothing comes out except sputtering and dribbles of blood. She stands above him, raises the bat and brings it down on his head with the might of someone trying to win the big prize at the fair. All it takes is that one good hit to bring his body to stillness.

  Margaret huffs in relief and tosses the bat to the side. She had saved Abe from his second end, and she feels quite pleased about it. She looks down at what she has done, and then at Abe still feeding on the fatter hooligan. The zombie takes a moment to look back at her with his usual deadpan gaze, still chewing on a bloody piece of something or other, thoroughly enjoying his first true zombie meal in a while. She nods at him with half a smile cracked, letting him know that everything is going to be all right.

  Billy arrives by her side and looks down at the man with his dented head and reddened midsection. He says nothing when he and Margaret make eye contact. Margaret simply shrugs, and they both watch Abe as he continues to consume Tully.

  <><><>

  The next morning, Margaret wakes up on one of the three beach loungers that her and Billy dragged over to their made up entertainment area to sleep on. The first thing she sees is Abe stretched out across the bright yellow lounger to her left, looking up at the ceiling. She remembers the night before, having to physically manipulate him into laying down on it. She's well aware that he doesn't need to sleep or even lie down, but as she has been getting more comfortable with him, it feels weird having him stand over her while she sleeps. Besides, she also knows that he is trainable, so she figures she might as well get him used to the normal human idiosyncrasies.

  To her right, she sees the empty light blue lounger that Billy is supposed to be in. She rubs her eyes into focus and sees that he is sitting just beyond it in his beanbag chair playing Inhabitant Devil 6 again. She decides to join him, gets up and plops herself down on the bean chair next to him. He says nothing to her and never takes his eyes off the game.

  Margaret: Been up long?… Is that a silly question?

  Billy: Actually, I didn't sleep too well.

  Margaret: How come?

  Billy: I don't know. Don't worry about it.

  Margaret: What do you mean, "Don't worry about it"?

  Billy: It's not important.

  Margaret: What? So we're keeping secrets now?

  Billy: No, it's just not important, okay?

  Margaret: You know what I think? I think that if it wasn't important, you'd be able to tell me.

  Billy stays quiet, ignoring her pitiful attempt at reverse psychology, and Margaret watches him put a bullet right between the eyes of one of the zombies in the game.

  Margaret: Is it because of what happened last night? I told you, it's okay. Don't be embarrassed. It happens to a lot of guys. We can always find other ways to satisfy each other.

  He remains unresponsive to her badly timed joke.

  Margaret: Sorry. Okay, seriously. I'm being serious now, okay? I had to do it. You know I had to. In any other situation, I would never do anything like that… obviously. You know I would never do anything like that, right? Not under normal circumstances. I'm not a fucking murderer. You know that, right?

  Billy continues playing. By now, she is completely used to doing most of the talking. He doesn't say much, but he is usually listening anyway, so she continues.

  Margaret: Its just… look at this world we live in. If it wasn't them, I swear to you it would've been us.

  Billy pauses the game and looks down at the controller.

  Billy: Was it hard?

  Margaret: Was what hard?

  Billy: Killing that man… Was it hard for you?

  She reflects for a moment, and then gives her response.

  Margaret: No, not really. I just reacted.

  Billy: And you're fine with that?

  Margaret: Hey, it was either him or Abe.

  Billy finally looks up from the controller and into Margaret's eyes.

  Billy: And that's just it. Things are all backwards. I've always wanted this, for a zombie outbreak to happen. I would fantasize about it all the time, prepare for it, research, look for the signs o
f it actually happening, and then it did… and… I was ready. I'm like your regular Ashley Williams without the guns or chainsaw for an arm. I trained to be like a young black Tallahassee… from Zombieland, but now look what I've been reduced to. What we've been reduced to. I have this… undead devourer of men as my ally, and I'm expected to help him slaughter humans?! As frumpy looking as those guys seemed or acted, they were still living and breathing human beings. It's just…

  Margaret: Hey look here Billy; having to kill those guys last night hasn't reduced you to anything. It was all me.

  Billy: But I-

  Margaret: Shh! It's society's fault that we've both been reduced to this kind of life. You need to know that you're not expected to do anything that you don't want to do. I would never try to make you. I don't even think I could if I wanted to, but please, try to understand that I had to do it. Those guys meant nothing to me. Abe is… well, he's become a sort of… a friend. I've let too many friends go.

  Billy: It's just a little hard to understand…

  Margaret: But isn't all of this hard to understand?! (sighs) Back in that cabin, when I was by myself and ready to die, something in me changed. I had just seen my mother mercilessly killed, and although I didn't see it with my own eyes, I knew my father was gone too. Abe got himself stuck and I had a lot of time to think. While I was watching him, studying him, something registered in my mind, that the world had changed, and things were never going to be the same again. I felt that, swallowed it, and it hurt for a moment, but I've never been one to just keel over and die. My father would never allow it. I may not have all the “know-how”, but I'm pretty damn smart. I know how to adapt, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to survive. My first mistake was reverting back into their sweet little girl, when I should have been protecting my parents. I'm not going to let anyone… or anything (gestures to Abe) I care about be taken away again. That goes for him… and now, that goes for you too.