Thomas directed his bike towards the church building, but after a few feet he jumped off it and started sprinting. His adrenaline and will to live propelled him forward. He fought back a scream. Just keep running.
They reached the church parking lot and Thomas crossed it almost as fast as Josh did on the bike. He reached the front door and pulled. Thankfully it was unlocked. He held the door open for Josh who lagged behind as it took him a second to get off his bike. He reached over his shoulder and armed his AR-15. The horde was about to reach the parking lot as he began unloading into the crowd of zombies. He took out a handful of them, but there still had to be 20 to 30 still coming.
“Keep running!” Josh said as he grabbed Thomas’ shoulder from behind.
Thomas took one last shot, nailing a zombie right through the right eye. He shut the glass door behind him and locked the deadbolt. Every little bit helped. Josh pushed over a bookshelf that had been sitting next to the door. Bibles and other religious literature spilled across the ground.
“Go!” Josh shouted as he turned. The two of them burst through the doors that led to the sanctuary. Light spilled through the stained glass windows that lined the side of the walls, painting the whole room in an eerily cheery rainbow glow. The sanctuary floor was like a large ramp leading down to the stage at the back of the room. The angled floor gave them a little extra speed, and they were at the back of the sanctuary in just a few seconds. They ran towards a door on the left that, if Thomas’ memory served right from the handful of times he darkened the doors of this particular church, would lead to offices and classrooms.
As they reached that door, the ones they’d just entered through which led into the sanctuary exploded as the zombies burst into the holy room. Thomas ran into the hallway and Josh slammed the door behind them.
Unlike the sanctuary, there were no windows in the hallway. It was almost pitch black, the only light present was coming from the windows in the few offices which had open doors.
They sprinted down the hallway, the sounds of their footsteps echoing throughout the place. They were only halfway down the hallway when the door behind them splintered into pieces and the zombies were once again right on their heels.
They came to an intersection and Josh pulled Thomas to the left. At the end of this hallway sat another doorway. Thomas wasn’t sure what would be on the other side, but he hoped—prayed—it would be safety.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins, keeping any pain or thoughts of giving in at bay. He would run forever if he had to. He wasn’t going to let one of those things get to him. Not before he could get to his little brother first.
They were halfway to the door. “Keep pushing!” Josh shouted. “Just a little bit further!”
Thomas said nothing in response. He gritted his teeth and forced his legs to move even quicker. He didn’t think it was even possible for him to run as fast as he was running at that moment.
They were just a few feet away from the door when Josh faltered.
CRACK!
Josh screamed and fell to the ground, tumbling head over heels. Thomas looked back and even in the dim light he could see the bone protruding from Josh’s ankle.
“JOSH!” Thomas screamed back at him as he slowed.
Their eyes locked for one last time. The fear in Josh’s eyes overpowered the pain on his face.
And then the zombies were on him.
Thomas turned and kept running. He reached the door and opened it, blinded by the sunlight on the other side.
Just gotta be faster than the person next to you.
Thomas burst into tears as he slammed the door behind him, and fell to the ground screaming.
He sat on the ground, his back pressed up against the door that separated him from the horde that was feasting on his last living family member. They were distracted. They wouldn’t be chasing after him anymore. He wasn’t worried about Josh turning into a zombie. He knew there wouldn’t be enough of him left.
He bashed his head on the door and let out another cry. He clenched his eyes shut, hot tears streaming down his face. His whole body shook with sobs and buzzed with adrenaline. He slammed his fists on the ground.
“Why, Josh?” he screamed. “Why’d you have to come with me?” He sobbed even harder. He opened his eyes but the tears blurred his vision.
Yet he was still able to see the approaching zombie as it fell down in front of him and took a bite out of his outstretched leg.
Chapter Seven
Hot pain seared through his leg as he kicked and hit at the lone zombie. The creature had a strong bite, and took a chunk out of Thomas’ leg. Thomas tackled the zombie and it let out a groan as he punched it in the head. He punched it again, and again. The sack of meat oozed black blood as it gargled on the rotten fluid.
Thomas screamed and his vision went red as he bashed the thing with his bare fists over and over again. He beat the zombie until it stopped making noise, and still until it finally stopped moving. Then he beat it even more, until finally there was nothing recognizably of a figure left. His fists hit the grass on the other side.
Thomas fell backwards, the sky spinning above him. “Pretty sky,” he remarked as the sun had just began the first stages of setting.
The pain in his leg throbbed, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked down at the missing chunk of his flesh. Blood pulsed from the wound with every beat of his heart. For a split second he considered cutting off the limb, but just as soon as the idea popped into his head he knew it was hopeless. His knife wasn’t big enough to cut the leg off quickly. He’d need an axe or something equally large. Even if he had one too much time had already passed.
Thomas was a dead man walking. Now his mission had a ticking clock.
THOMAS DRIPPED WITH sweat and his leg throbbed. Every step was pain as he limped down the street. If someone were to see him they’d probably think he was already a zombie as he shuffled towards his home.
He swallowed hard. His throat was drying up, but he didn’t have time to stop and take a drink. Every second mattered. It was a tossup how long it took for the infection to take hold, kill a person, and then reanimate them. Everybody was different. He’d heard of it happening in just a couple of hours, and he’d heard of some people lasting up to a week before the disease claimed them.
The sun was going down. Thomas knew he only had a couple of hours before darkness took hold. He had to get home, and soon. He didn’t want to be out wandering around at night disoriented and dying.
Thomas stopped and gazed up at a billboard above him. Emergency? Don’t wait! Spring Emergency Medical Center, where there’s never a wait. The doctor on the sign smiled down at him, and Thomas smiled back.
He remembered when Gabe came home from the hospital. Thomas was only eleven and had saved up his allowance to buy a crib. His parents had already bought one of course, but Thomas was so excited to have a little brother that he’d bought a crib just for his room so that some nights Gabe could sleep in there with him.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought back on those early mini-sleepovers. It was a tradition they kept alive for years. Even the last time Thomas was down from school for the holidays, they’d set up shop in Thomas’ bedroom and had a “sleepover” just like the old days. They bust out the PlayStation 2 from the attic and spent all night playing through LEGO Star Wars after Gabe told Thomas that he’d never played the game. They planned on playing through LEGO Star Wars II: The Original Trilogy on the next sleepover. Thomas had spent time trying to find a copy in good condition online, but before he could order a copy, Gabe got sick, and the rest was history.
A zombie shuffled by Thomas, pulling him from his train of thought. The creature paid him no attention. He realized he’d been standing there staring up at the billboard for a good five minutes.
Shit, Thomas thought. The infection is moving fast. He pulled out his knife, stabbed the zombie in the back of the head, and continued the journey home.
THOMAS HAD A HARD TIME thinking straight. He kept forgetting where he was going or what he was doing. His brain was turning into a thick soup of half-formed thoughts. None of them had enough momentum to break through the fog for long.
He was only a couple blocks away from his home. A couple blocks away from Gabe. He grit his teeth and forced one foot in front of the other. I didn’t come this far to die this close.
Gabe saw a kid’s bike sitting in the front yard of a house. He let out a small laugh. He felt drunk. “Remember when my chain broke?” he said to no one. He laughed a little harder. “Oh shit, that was so crazy. Like, I mean—” he interrupted himself with a steady stream of laughter that soon turned hysterical. He fell to the ground, the gravel of the road digging into the palm of his hand. He rolled onto his back, the laughter dying down.
He looked up at the sky. The sun was almost down, painting the sky in hues of blue, violet, and red. It was beautiful, and Thomas’ eyes began to water.
“Remember when you learned to ride a bike, Gabe?” he said. He turned his head to the right and looked into Gabe’s bright blue eyes.
Gabe smiled. He was missing teeth on either side of his front two, causing him to look buck-toothed. He opened his mouth to talk but black sludge spilled out instead.
Thomas shot up, screaming. He scrambled away as fast as he could, and bolted to his feet. His right leg almost gave out beneath him.
There was nothing on the ground. Gabe’s not there, he reassured himself. He never was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to get home. He had to get to Gabe.
You’re so close. You’re so close.
THOMAS STOOD IN FRONT of his house, sobbing. He’d made it. He’d finally made it. After everything he’d been through over the past 11 months, all the terrible things he’d seen—he’d done—he was finally at the end of the road.
But he couldn’t get his feet to move.
It’s just one foot in front of the other, he tried coaching himself. You’ve done it before.
He wiped the tears from his eyes. “Remember when you learned how to walk, Gabe?”
Gabe groaned at his side.
Thomas looked down at him, gnawing on his hand. He couldn’t feel it. He wondered how it tasted.
He put one foot in front of the other one. He was just seeing things, but he knew the truth was that the real Gabe was inside the two story house ahead of him. He didn’t have much time left. He had to finish it.
Thomas didn’t remember entering the house. The next thing he remembered was being at the bottom of the stairs. It was dark inside the house. The sun was almost below the horizon.
He placed a hand on the dark wood railing, and pulled himself up the stairs. He kept his eyes down. It was dark in the house, but there was still enough light to look at the pictures on the wall. Thomas didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want to get stuck staring at the pictures, going down another rabbit hole. He knew the next one might be his last. He couldn’t take the chance.
Thomas didn’t know how long he’d been standing at the doorway to his little brothers room. He didn’t remember walking down the hallway to the door at the end.
He swallowed hard. Pain shot through his throat and all the way down to the pit in his stomach. He grabbed the cold metal doorknob, twisted, and pushed the door open.
Gabe stood on the other side of the room, starring right at Thomas in the doorway. As if he knew he was coming.
As if he was waiting.
His dead blue eyes stared into Thomas’. He didn’t charge. He didn’t try and eat his older brother. He just stared.
Thomas shuffled into the room, his head spinning. He wasn’t even crying anymore. He just wanted to sleep.
“Hey Gabe,” he struggled to say. The words were coming harder than they ever had. Thomas was now forcing his eyes to stay open. He was forcing himself to stay alive.
Thomas fell to his knees in front of Gabe. The two of them were now at eye level. One zombie brother looking into the eyes of the other zombie brother.
Thomas pulled the knife out of his sheath. It felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.
He wrapped his arms around Gabe.
“I love you little brother,” he whispered into his ear.
The knife slid in with ease.
About the Author
Logan Rutherford is an author living in Houston, Texas. First publishing at 16, he's been doing so ever since.
He writes a variety of series, although he's most known for his First Superhero series, the first book in that series being 'The Second Super'.
Website: www.authorloganrutherford.com
Mailing List: authorloganrutherford.com/list
Facebook: facebook.com/loganwrites
Twitter: @loganrutherford
Email: [email protected]
Thank you for spending your time and money reading and hopefully getting lost in his stores. Please consider leaving a review if you have the time.
The Children Are Not People [Short Story] Page 3