Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

  Margaret: And just how do you propose we get over there?

  Billy looks down the thirty-foot drop and braces himself for it.

  Margaret: No! No, no, no, no, no. We can't jump down this thing. There's got to be another way.

  Billy: There isn't. Look, you'll be fine if you just land properly. Go with the momentum, keep your knees bent and try to follow through. Fall into a roll. Just watch me, okay? I'll go first.

  He hops up on to the railing, takes his bag off and tosses it, along with his bow, cautiously over the side. They both land and cascade to a safe stop on the grassy hill below, bow and arrows intact.

  Billy: Okay.. Here I go.

  Margaret: Be careful.

  Billy: I will.

  He takes a few breaths to steady his nerves, then the brave boy flings himself over the edge. Margaret watches him glide down and land on the grassy hill with a thud. He rolls about half way down before finally coming to a stop. For a moment, he lays there motionless.

  Margaret: BILLY! ARE YOU OKAY?!

  A few seconds later, she sees some movement, and Billy slowly gets up to his feet. He brushes himself off while rushing back up to where his bag had landed, closer to where the pavement meets the grass. Picking it up, he calls out to Margaret.

  Billy: Okay! It's your turn! Do it!

  Margaret: Uh… Okay, all right! Heads up!

  She tosses her bag over. It lands safely, then she gets up on to the guardrail and tries to get centered. It looks incredibly high from on top. Even though she's never been particularly afraid of heights, she is not at all excited about what she is going to have to do. She isn't even all together sure if she can do it.

  She may not have, had she not looked down the road to the right to see the mass of undead bodies that were crawling steadily toward them. All of them still fairly hard to see, Margaret can only make out their bobbing heads and their dark figures swallowing up more and more of the road that lay in between them. To think, if they had continued walking, they would have run into that mob in the next ten to fifteen minutes.

  And then, to her left, she looks down the path they had come. Closer this time, is another massive horde. She can see this group much clearer than the one ahead, their swinging arms and their exaggerated, lunging steps. Hundreds upon hundreds of them, a little less than ten minutes behind. To think, if they had sat where they had been resting for five minutes longer, they would have been zombie food for sure. And then, she begins to hear the all too familiar sound of their wild chattering and depressing groans starting to fade into the atmosphere.

  Billy: WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!

  Billy's voice brings her back to the fall. It still looks staggeringly high, impossible even, but what choice does she have?

  Margaret: Okay… Here I come!

  Billy: Remember, keep your knees bent, and just relax! Try not to land too hard on your ankle!

  She crouches down and prepares to jump

  Margaret: Okay. It's okay. I can do this. You can do this Margaret. One… Two… Oh fuck, this is insane. BILLY, THIS IS INSANE!

  Billy: You have no choice, Margaret!!! Jump or die!!!

  Margaret: I might die if I jump!!

  Billy: No, you won't!!! Look at me!!! I'm fine!! Now, stop being a little baby and jump!!! On three!! I'm counting you off!!!

  Margaret: All riiight!!! Count slow!!!

  Billy: K, let's just do this!!! ONE!

  Margaret eases herself into jumping position, takes a deep breath, and tries to relax.

  Billy: TWO!

  She bounces lightly up and down in her crouched position, getting ready for Billy to call out the last number, but in it's place comes the crescendo of a high-pitched, banshee like shriek that rises to such a height in volume that it feels like several knives of ice have been plunged into Margaret's spine. It makes her look to the left, in the direction from which the scream had come, just as Billy calls out the last number.

  Billy: THREE!!!

  With her nerves, shaken and confused, Margaret makes an uncoordinated leap off the side of the highway. She plummets down toward the grassy hill and lands exactly how she isn't supposed to, almost directly on her freshly healed ankle. She rolls less than a metre or two before stopping, and cries out in pain, a scream almost as chilling as her undead antagonist. Billy doesn't have to run far to meet her.

  Billy: Margaret!!! God, are you okay?!? I told you to follow through!

  Margaret: Ugh, my ankle… Argh! … I fucked it again. It's fucked...

  Billy: Here, lemme see.

  Billy takes a closer look and sure enough, the ankle looks much worse off than it had been the first time around, clearly twisted, and possibly broken.

  Billy: Oh, man…

  Margaret: I heard her… When I was about to jump, I heard her scream… It… threw me off. AAARGH!!! God, what the hell?!

  Billy: Sorry! I was just trying to see if… Shit, you might have broken it, Margaret.

  A mix of the excruciating pain and frustration that seems endless, causes a groan to escape the injured girl's lips, and then many others fill the surrounding air; thousands of them.

  Billy: They're close. We have to start for the woods, right now!

  He helps her to her feet, and then helps her put her knapsack on. They begin to lurch down the hill together, Margaret's arm slung over Billy's back, when she remembers something.

  Margaret: Abe!

  She swings both her and Billy around and looks back up to the highway, and there is Abe, still standing where they had been, looking down at them.

  Margaret: ABE! JUMP!

  At first, it looks as though he isn't listening, but then he begins climbing up on to the railing. He even gets into a crouched position, copying Margaret and Billy's actions before taking his leap. When he jumps, his attempt looks more like a toddler trying to jump for the first time, very awkward, and he barely gets any distance. He ends up falling fairly close to the pair waiting below; almost face first, hitting the grass with part of his face, chest and left shoulder. He skims quite a distance, tumbles forward, and then rolls almost the rest of the way down the hill, much farther along than Margaret and Billy have gone. The brutality of it worries Margaret.

  Billy: Come!

  They continue down the hill toward Abe, and Margaret let's go of Billy so he can help Abe to his feet. Their friend seems to be okay when he gets up, so they begin heading straight for the trees

  Billy: Come on!

  With Margaret now injured, their pace has been cut in half. She's taller than Billy and probably around the same weight. Add in her knapsack and the one he carries on his own back, and that makes quite a lot for even a special fifteen year old like him to be lugging across a mile long field of thick, shin high grass. Margaret tries the best she can to use her bad foot and make it easier on him, but almost any pressure at all causes an unbearable pain to shoot up from her ankle, through her spine and into the back of her skull. Surprisingly, Abe doesn't even have to try that hard to keep up with them, zombie trotting along not too far behind.

  Both Billy and Margaret are completely exhausted by the time they make it about half way across the field. Even with Billy's support, with each step the pain in her ankle grows larger, and soon it becomes too much. She stumbles to the ground, crying in actual tears of agony.

  Billy: Margaret, you can't give up now! We're so close!

  Margaret: (whimpering) I don't want to, but… I can't run anymore…

  Billy: You have to try!!

  Margaret attempts to get to her feet with Billy's help, but it is a grueling struggle. In helping her, Billy takes a moment to look back at the elevated road they have been fleeing and sees a sight that almost makes the fanatic regret the joy he felt when he first discovered a zombie infestation had actually happened. Thousands of zombies have met on the highway where they had been resting and are now throwing themselves off the road and into the field. Scores of undead bodies raining over the side, all of them falling on top of e
ach other, and all of them getting back up to their feet to continue their pursuit of the trio. And then again, the Queen's scream to accompany it. Billy can't see her, but he knows that she is up there somewhere, guiding the parade toward them. This is no longer his fantasy come to life, but more of a bad dream. They would never make it… unless.

  Billy: Hang on.

  He rests Margaret gently back on the ground and takes his knapsack off, then grabs Abe and quickly manipulates his arms through the slings of the bag so that now, Abe is wearing it. He then rushes back down to Margaret's side and stoops in front of her.

  Margaret: Look, just go without-

  Billy: Shut up! Get on my back!

  She wraps her arms around Billy's neck and shoulders, and instantly, they are back on route to the entrance of the woods.

  The boy is running on fumes, but his heart will allow him to run forever if he has to. They are less than a quarter of a mile away from the cover of the trees, and even though their pursuers are already on the field, they will have to cover a pretty decent distance if they want to catch up. When they get to it's cover, the forest will give Billy enough time to re-evaluate the situation and increase their chances of survival drastically. Although spent, hope is beginning to rise once more.

  But then, just as quickly, it is stripped indifferently away. All hope and optimism, any possibility for living through this, and all of his dreams of seeing California are stolen by the image of undead bodies; first a few, then tens, then hundreds of them, materializing from the forest ahead.

  LIFE FROM ABOVE

  On the third day on their surveillance mission, still high amidst the clouds of Oregon, Matthew Kerrick and Denver Sharp sit in the cabin of the jet black UH-60, bored out of their minds.

  Sharp: I knew this would be a waste of time. That Feleider is full of it.

  Kerrick: I'm beginning to think you're right, my friend. We've been duped. The last three days were a complete waste of time. I didn't even get to shoot anything… much.

  Sharp: So you believe me now? I'm telling' ya. He's hiding something. I don't know exactly what it is, but it's obviously something to do with this infection. When I get back I'm grilling his ass.

  Kerrick: I got your back, man. He deserves it for getting me all excited and failing to deliver.

  Sharp: Tch.. Man, forget this. (to the pilots) Hey! Take us back to the compound!

  Kerrick: Aw, maaaaaaan.

  Kerrick strokes his automatic rifle like a baby, and Sharp can't help but snicker at his friend as the pilot makes a wide turn, taking them back to Sector 333-3.

  The scenery above and below them is breathtaking. The sun is yellow and luminous, and its rays seem to become visible glowing in, through and even around the clouds and open sky. It shines down on to the vast forest region below, a sight to be seen, itself, with it's multitude of trees, flocks of migrating birds in v-formation, flying above and in between them. Even for these men, who have seen many things most regular people couldn't dream of, this simple picture is spectacular.

  Kerrick: I'll never get tired of seeing things from this high. There's something about looking down on everything that makes a man feel… good.

  Sharp: You narcissistic son of a bitch.

  Kerrick: What?! You telling me you don't love the look of that? The birds, the blue sky. I'm not a narcissus. I just love taking it all in at once. You know I love nature. I love it almost as much as I love women and shooting bad guys. I mean, goddamn, look at that, in the trees. It's like a herd of deer or something. They're so wild and free,.. They're just like us. Not as badass, but you get me.

  Sharp: Heh, I don't feel so free. At least, not on this mission, not with this Feleider as project commander.

  Kerrick: (sighs) I told you already D, forget about him. Pretend to listen, and then do what you want. That's what you always do, anyway. For now, just sit back and enjoy the pretty view, will ya?

  Sharp: Yea, I will… for now, but when I get back, I'm raising some hell.

  Kerrick: Ha! That's my boy! Save our defiance for later.

  Talked down by his amicable chum, Sharp leans back in his seat and starts enjoying the view his buddy was raving about. It's actually quite nice, looking down on everything. His eyes wander along the tops of the trees, and they catch movement; the herd Kerrick had mentioned.

  Sharp: I've never seen a herd of deer that big.

  Kerrick: What was that? Mumbling is a bad habit.

  Sharp: Yea? Well, so is mistaking a herd of deer for a swarm of the infected.

  Kerrick looks down and takes a better look at the terrain. Sharp is right. Those are definitely not deer he can see making there way through the trees, and the more he scans the them, the more bipedal beings he spots.

  Kerrick: Holy hell... That is a lot of goofs.

  Sharp: Yea. Looks like the tail end, and they're all heading the same way.

  Kerrick: To the highway.

  Sharp: Mmhm.. Pilot!

  Pilot: I'm on 'em!

  The helicopter makes a swooping turn and follows the zombie trail, heading toward the distant highway.

  <><><>

  In the lush green field fit for a fairytale, a daymare persists. The woods no longer being an option, Billy tries to back track as far into the field as possible, but soon must turn and run parallel to the forest's border and highway road. He runs down the middle of the field with Margaret still clinging to his back. Abe is no too far behind, and thousands of zombies are closing in on them from each side. Billy's breathing is terribly labored.

  Margaret: Just drop me! You can buy some time for yourself!

  Billy: Shut up!

  Margaret: I'm serious!

  Margaret let's go of Billy's shoulder and kicks off his back. He goes falling forward and Margaret falls straight to the ground. Abe stops beside her.

  Billy: What are you doing?!

  Margaret: Just go!!!

  Billy: No! I'm not leaving you behind!

  He runs over to her and tries to get her up to her feet. In full-blown tears, she struggles against him, slapping his hands and pushing him away.

  Margaret: But if you don't, you'll never make it to California!

  Billy: I don't care! Please! Let me help you!

  Margaret: No… (sniffles) No…

  Billy: Then I'm staying.

  Billy makes his choice. He walks over to Abe and detaches his bow from the knapsack he let him hold. He doesn't bother to take the whole bag off of Abe's back, just takes the arrows out from where they are, firing upon the converging mobs. He sends one arrow to the zombies coming out of the woods to the right, headshot. He sends another arrow to the zombies coming from the highway to the left, headshot. He hits yet another one directly in between the eyes, and then another, and then five more, but it's hopeless. Greyed bodies are still falling over the side of the highway, and more are coming out of the woods. It doesn't matter what he does, how many he kills, soon they would be surrounded. Either that, or the ones in front of him would catch up. Regardless, his long awaited outbreak fantasy would be over within the next few minutes, premature, but with good cause.

  Sitting on the grass in tears, Margaret turns around to see Billy firing upon the inexhaustible crowd. He pulls arrow after arrow out of the knapsack on Abe's back, firing them into the crowd of thousands. The zombies are still pretty far away so Margaret can't see if any of the shots hit their target, but she knows in her heart that they are accurate. She knows the boy is an excellent marksman, but even his seasoned skills can't overcome the fact that he is almost out of ammo. From what she can see, he has about ten arrows left. She turns back around and drops her head in defeat. As if she knows the war is won, The Queen of the Zombie's screech rings out from somewhere in the turbulent sea of undead.

  As the queen's shrill war cry dies down, it is replaced with another sound; the sound of liberation. Margaret hears it and looks up to the sky.

  Margaret: BILLY!!!

  He stops mid-aim and turns to see that
Margaret is looking upward and to the left above the forest trees. He follows her gaze and sees a jet-black military helicopter approaching their position. If it wasn't for the zombies coming out of the forest right below it, they might have been able to run for it, but Billy has another idea. He puts his arrow back into the knapsack and reattaches his bow as well, and then runs back to Margaret and scoops her up.

  Billy: C'mon! Get up! Up!!

  He gets her up and back into her piggyback position on his person, then continues running in the direction they had been, down the center of the field. The distance between them and the undead has shortened significantly now due to the break they had taken, and to make things worse, they hadn't even made it past the whole mob that is still coming for them from the highway. These zombies are still throwing themselves off the elevated road from behind, beside and in front of the escaping trio. Not to mention the ones still coming from the forest. No matter how fast they run, it is a guarantee that they will be surrounded in a matter of minutes.

  Margaret: Please, let them see us.