Downfall

by Michael S. Gardner

  Dana released an audible sigh.

  John, Matt, and Cole laughed.

  “Relax, Dana,” Cole said and nodded back to the van. “He’s saved our tails more than I’d like to admit.”

  “What has this world come to?” she mumbled, looking to the ground.

  There was a moment of silence.

  Dana shook her head, but she looked up with a smile. “Will you three be joining us for dinner tonight? Tommy seems to be in a good mood and could use some company.”

  Matt glanced behind the couple to the stairwell leading to the second floor. A wheelchair ramp had been installed to get their grandson between floors. An elevator, as well, had been put in the hallway, just out of sight from where Matt stood, leading to the basement. He’d taken note of it during their first encounter with the family.

  “Where is the little guy?” he asked.

  “Upstairs taking a nap,” Dana replied. “We had an eventful day.”

  “Eventful?” Cole probed. “Anything we should worry about?”

  “No, no,” Dana laughed slightly. “Nothing like that. Still haven’t seen one of those things since the day Pat Johnson from across the street put down his wife and then himself last Tuesday.”

  “Oh… Well, we have to make this visit a short one, guys,” Cole said, leaning on his right foot. “We got us a pair of survivors two days ago, and one of them was cut up pretty bad. He’s not doing so good.”

  “Infected?” John inquired.

  Matt nodded.

  “At least we think so,” Cole said, handing John the rest of the supplies. He looked to the meager amount of food; probably not even a week’s worth. Lifting his hat and scratching his buzzed dirty blond hair, he frowned and said, “Sorry there isn’t more. We’ll be going out in a few more days.”

  “You’ve done more than we could ever ask for,” Dana said. “And for that, we’re blessed.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Matt smiled and took a moment to take in the scene: Even in the middle of what was now known as “the apocalypse,” a new age where the dead wouldn’t stay dead, he and his best friend were still blessed to meet others out in the lands of what was and never will be again. A warm feeling filled his gut. Times like this were what made you human, and the thought only broadened his smile.

  “Y’all come back sometime this week so we can get acquainted with all our new neighbors,” John said. “They aren’t what they used to be these days, if you know what I mean.”

  “Count on it.” Cole shook his hand. “In the meantime, you guys radio us if you need anything.”

  “You too.”

  ***

  The ride home was both quiet and uneventful. Cole and Alex had nodded off, the day’s events bearing the weight of a dying world—a thought that was now more literal than figurative. The only thing Matt could do was study the road and lose himself in thought.

  The kid’s right. You do enjoy killing those things, Matt.

  I know, he agreed with himself, glancing briefly into the rearview mirror. But those things took everything from me.

  They did that to everyone, Matt.

  He shook his head. There is no retrieving what’s been lost—only settling a debt.

  It’s one that may never be paid in full, you know.

  Matt shrugged. Well, I’ll take back as much as I can while I still breathe.

  You’ll surely die.

  We all die. He smiled. And besides, what else could one do when he finds himself in such a position?

  He had no answer.

  The world around him transformed from empty, dead husks into illusions of full yards, families grilling outside, children carelessly running around. But these ghosts soon faded as he turned their vehicle down the road that would bring him home. Home, a word he’d not yet found himself comfortable saying, or even thinking; it was a concept reserved for him and Shelley. No, this was more like a prison, and each day grew lonelier and lonelier without her.

  Shelley, his beautiful Baby Doll, kept crossing his mind. It was inevitable, Matt guessed, but he still didn’t welcome the memories. They harbored too much pain.

  Her voice rang in his head, and he had to fight the images of her being ripped apart, chewed on like some fucking dog toy, before he lost control of the vehicle.

  Help me, Bruce! Shoot them!

  Matt remembered turning around not seven days ago to watch some short, corpulent man staring in awe at a horde weaving their way through a maze of disabled vehicles. A man who they’d rescued not moments before and armed. A man who’d never pulled the trigger. Shelley had squeezing off round after round next to Mary while Matt and Cole fought with the front door of the car dealership.

  Swerving to the left, Matt straightened out the van. Neither Cole nor Alex seemed to notice. He sighed, stomach and head feeling light, as he remembered leaving the woman he loved for dead as some creeping zombie caught her from behind and tore into her neck. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel until knuckles turned white and eyes burned.

  Matt… Please. I’m sorry. I-I just froze up. Now the high-pitched voice of a pitiful man filled his head. He blinked, devouring the memory of Bruce’s wide eyes as he backed away from Matt. The safety of the dealership’s interior couldn’t protect the sweating, panicked IT. Please don’t do this, Matt. Please!

  Wincing, Matt saw the driveway wasn’t too far away.

  You let Shelley die, you son of a bitch, his voice played back.

  N-No.

  You ran off and let her die so you could save your own ass!

  Matt felt a tear dribble down his cheek. He didn’t remember pulling the trigger, but that didn’t change the fact it had happened. Feeling more tears well up, Matt shook the memory away before it got the best of him, and pulled into the driveway that had once belonged to a coward named Bruce, the only living man he’d ever murdered.

  CHAPTER 4

  Cole startled awake from Matt’s prodding of his shoulder.

  “Wake up, you two. We’re here.”

  Though he’d been out for no more than ten minutes, Cole felt groggy. The brief sleep had offered nothing but nightmares from his past. His friends. His family. The infected. They were all monsters now, and he couldn’t even find simple sleep without being tortured by them. He sighed and opened his door.

  “I’ll get Mare and the rest,” he said as he yawned and stepped out of the van. “You two start unloading.” He glanced back to Alex. The boy looked to have had the same luck in the dream world if the sour cast of his young face was any indication.

  Gravel crunched under Cole’s feet as he headed toward the front porch of the two-story colonial house. Cole stretched his arms high overhead as a deep yawn escaped his throat. Before his jaw clacked shut he swore he heard someone crying inside the house. The closer he drew he knew that was exactly what he’d heard. Someone was crying.

  Cole pulled out his gun, racking the slide and fumbling in his left pocket for the keys. Bruce, the former owner, had two house keys on the set Matt had taken from his still-warm corpse. Cole or Matt always carried one nowadays; Mary usually was the only one allowed to hold the other. For a moment he thought of calling Matt and Alex over, but it was getting uncomfortably close to dark. With their visibility diminished, it was easier for anyone or anything to sneak up. The supplies had to be moved in as quickly as possible.

  The door opened, creaking from years of use. He took a step in. The echoes of sobs could be heard clearly now. There were no other sounds, save for random ambience generated by the house: clocks ticking, fans turning, bulbs burning. Cole scanned the living room and the entrance to the kitchen/dining room for bloodstains, any indication of a struggle. Seeing none, he made for the stairs, one cautious step at a time, the barrel of his gun shadowing where his eyes scanned.

  Cole reached second floor and tracked a slight moan to Barry’s room. Stepping up to the partially open door, he nudged his way in. Anna was on her knees, face buried in Barry’s chest as her body wracked wi
th violent sobs. The man was gone; Cole could see it from here. Barry was too pale, unmoving. Dead. But the term wouldn’t apply for long, he knew.

  On the opposite side of the bed, Kristin and Mary turned in unison.

  “What happened?” Cole asked.

  “He…” Mary stuttered. A tear escaped her left eye and trailed down her pink cheek. “He just died.”

  “Just a few minutes ago,” Kristin added.

  “We were downstairs when we heard him scream.” Mary wiped her face with the fabric of her shirt. “Then Anna started yelling for help.” She did a double-take and looked back. “His hand was over his heart and his mouth was open… like he’d seen a demon.”

  Cole sighed, wishing now that they’d never brought these two here. Holding back the nice, caring part—the part that gave him his humanity—Cole whispered, “You two need to get that woman out of here. Yesterday.”

  Mary sniffled.

  Kristin nodded. “Anna, honey,” she started, “we need to—”

  Anna cast the devil’s glare, silencing Kristin, and then turned back to Barry.

  “Come on, girl,” Mary chimed in. “It’s not safe to—”

  Anna sat up and slapped her hands on the bed “Not safe to what?” she roared, not taking her eyes off Barry. “Be around my dead husband?”

  The way she looked up to Kristin, the puffy eyes and red cheeks and shaky body, it made Cole think of his parents. He blinked hard and shook his head. When the clock ticks down, each and every second is that much more important.

  “What do you know, huh?” Anna cried out. “Can’t you just let me grieve in peace?”

  Anna had every right to be angry as far as Cole was concerned, yet he knew he couldn’t let up; it would be a fatal mistake. “Anna,” he raised his hands and took a step forward. “Somehow your husband got infected.” He gingerly pointed to the wound. “Just look at his leg.”

  Anna turned away, face as red as a ripe cherry, and cried some more. “I—I know. I don’t need to look. He looks exactly how the news described. He was having nightmares, just like the news said.” Anna’s mouth shut as her own words hit home.

  “I’m sorry. I really am, Anna, but we’re gonna need to dispose of the body before he turns. You can say your goodbyes, but then Matt and I are taking care of this before anyone else dies.” He lowered his voice. “I sincerely hope you know this isn’t what I want to do. It’s what must be done.” Cole turned to the other two. “Come on. We’ll give her a few minutes.”

  ***

  By the time the three exited, Matt and Alex had wandered into the living room, wondering where everyone was. Matt knew that something was off as soon as he saw the looks on their faces. Cole nodded and made his way down with the women right behind him.

  “Barry’s dead, isn’t he?” Alex asked, his voice cracking. He tossed some canned goods on the couch.

  Matt put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, bud. I know how much he meant to you.”

  “It’s my fault,” the kid said. “If I had gotten them out sooner—”

  “You did all you could,” Mary affirmed, kneeling down as she stepped in front of him. She rubbed his arm and offered the best smile she could muster. “Your dad would be proud, and you should be too.”

  “Where’s Anna?” Matt asked, looking to Cole.

  Alex began to sob, wrapping his arms around his stomach, and took a place on the couch.

  “Still up there.” Cole picked up a case of water and headed into the kitchen. “Give her a few more minutes, and then we’ll need to dispose of the body.”

  ***

  The creaking hardwood beneath the weight of Matt’s foot caused him to flinch. He glanced down to the living room and sighed as Anna collapsed into Mary’s shoulder. The widow’s sobs resonated throughout the house, throughout his mind. This was going to change things, he knew. When it was just Cole, Mary, and himself, they had control. They had comfort. Years of friendship afforded more security than any government sanctioned “safe house” could. But now they were playing with a different hand. The choice and actions to save others was fulfilling to say the least, but fate had just played a wildcard. As Anna squeezed Mary’s arm, Matt felt a chill run down his spine.

  “C’mon,” Cole whispered from beside him, grabbing the door handle. “We need to do this quick.”

  The smell hit Matt as soon as the door opened and Cole stepped in. Over the last two weeks, death had become commonplace, and he recognized its scent as soon as he laid eyes on Barry. Thankfully it was faint.

  Cole stood at the edge of the bed. “How are we gonna do this?”

  Matt scratched his head, realizing that they had no plan, just a reason. He looked at Barry and noticed the flesh surrounding his eyes was completely black. Red blood trickled down his blotchy cheeks and pooled on the stained white sheet beneath him. He reached down for his Sig, but hesitated.

  Barry’s eyes were moving behind their lids.

  “You see that?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Gently the man’s eyes opened. Vacant, cloudy eyes stared at the ceiling.

  Matt took a step back.

  A raspy breath escaped Barry’s lips as he sat upright. Matt craned his head as Barry looked to Cole and then him.

  Shelley, Matt thought, feeling his grip on the pistol tighten. Was this what had happened to her? Did she simply just come back after those bastards ravaged her in the front parking lot of the dealership? A wave of emptiness washed over him as Barry lifted his arm off the mattress. The way the man looked at the limb perplexed, unsure of its purpose, it made Matt sad. The zombies, they were… they were almost pitiful in this state.

  No one deserves this, he thought, shaking his head.

  “Matt?” Cole said.

  Barry’s dried lips flustered. His eyes met Cole’s as he growled.

  Matt fired from the hip and opened up Barry’s nose cavity. His second shot landed between the dead man’s eyes. Barry fell back, revealing a horrid mess of blood and brains on the wall beside the window. Anna’s yowling quickly replaced the ringing in Matt’s ears.

  “What are going to do with him?” He holstered his firearm and turned to Cole.

  Cole nodded toward the window.

  CHAPTER 5

  It only felt like Matt had been asleep a few minutes after Barry’s impromptu funeral when he stirred awake. Glancing at the alarm clock on top of the dresser revealed that, in fact, it had been closer to four hours.

  “Matt!”

  He sat bolt upright and allowed the world to fall back into place. Images of Anna bending over Barry’s hastily dug grave and crying flashed across his eyes as he tied his hair back. He grimaced as he realized how sore his arms were. They’d managed to finish digging a grave on the outskirts of the backyard in manageable time, but the task took its toll on him. With only one shovel, he figured they’d done well enough.

  “Matt! Cole! Either of you two there?”

  “Ah,” Matt groaned, cracking his back and stretching his arms. Standing and reaching for the radio beside the alarm clock, Matt shook the last of his sleep away. He clicked the radio and yawned. “Hey, John. What’s up, bud?”

  “You guys havin’ any activity up your way?”

  Matt stared into the mirror attached to the dresser. “Man, I need to shave,” he muttered, looking at all the stubble growth. Into the radio, he answered, “Nah, I can’t say that I have.”

  He strode over to the window and peeked through the blinds to see nothing but a spacious backyard surrounded by a vast amount of woods and a mound of dirt where a dead man lay. “Have you?”

  There was a brief pause. “No, not really. There are quite a few of them on our street, though.”

  “How the hell is that not really?” Matt said under his breath.

  “And there is a damned big crowd of them headed in your direction.”

  Matt felt his heart sink, and he absentmindedly slammed a fist on a stack of Alex’s comics. “Great.
” He clicked the mic. “Are you positive, John?”

  “Yeah. Just thought you guys should—”

  “Shush, Tommy. John, get—” Dana’s voice suddenly rang out.

  “John, is everything okay out there?”

  “Yeah. I think we’ll be fine, Matt. We’re going to the basement now. We should be safe down there. Just wanted to let you guys know. These things, they just came out of nowhere.”

  Matt looked back to the piles of sports cards and other comics, the remote control cars… and the Savage rifle perched next to the window.

  “I’ll warn the others. Thanks for the heads-up, John.” He looked to himself in the mirror, surprised to find such a calm expression on his face. “Don’t you hesitate to call us if it gets too bad over there. You never know how shit will play out. We can give you directions…” Matt shook his head, remembering Tommy’s condition and how ill-equipped they would be to care for the young man in this house. “Ah, just let us know if you need help, okay?”

  “Thanks, Matt, but you two have done enough for us already.”

  “Anytime, John. Just make sure to hole up tight and keep quiet.”

  Silence.

  Matt tossed the radio on the bed and stretched his arms and legs, processing the news. In minutes, he found himself rapping on Cole’s door.

  “Wake up, dude.”

  Receiving no answer, he knocked again.

  “Go away, man.” Something hit the wall on the opposite side.

  He knocked once more and opened the door to see Cole; his head was buried beneath the security of a pillow.

  “We got work to do. Wish I was jokin’, but I ain’t.”

  Cole threw the pillow aside, sat up, and scratched his scruffy chin. “What’re you talking about, man? We worked until the damn sun came up.”

  Matt leaned against the doorframe and shook his head. “Not what I’m talkin’ about.” He waited for Cole to stand and retrieve his hat. “Just got word from John that there are quite a few creepers rolling our way.”