by Brian Keene
..."
"
Platt Street
," Frankie announced and made the turn. She drove past the houses, each lined up in neat rows, each one identical to the next, save for the color of their shutters or the curtains hanging in the vacant windows. "We're here."
She put the HumVee in park, but did not shut off the engine.
"...and I love you more than Spider-Man and more
than Pikachu and more than Michael Jordan and more than 'finity, Daddy. I love you more than infinity."
Jim opened his eyes.
"More than infinity, Danny. Daddy loves you more than infinity."
He opened the door and Martin followed. Jim placed a hand on his shoulder.
"No," he said firmly, shaking his head, "you stay here with Frankie, my friend. I need you to watch our backs out here. Make sure we've got a clear shot at escape."
He paused, and still squeezing Martin's shoulder, he raised his head and sniffed the breeze.
"This town is alive with the dead, Martin. Can't you feel it?"
"I can," Martin admitted, "but you'll need help. What if-"
"I appreciate everything you've done for me and Danny, but this is something I have to do alone."
"I'm afraid for what you might find."
"So am I. That's why I need to do this by myself. Okay?"
Martin nodded reluctantly. "Okay Jim. We'll wait here for both of you."
Frankie leaned over the seat and pulled one of the Ms to the front. She placed it between her legs and checked the rear view mirror.
"Coast is clear," she said. "Better get going."
Jim nodded.
Martin sighed heavily. "Good luck, Jim. We'll be right here."
"Thank you. Thank you both."
He took a deep breath, turned away, and crossed the street. His feet felt leaden, just like they had in his dream.
"More than infinity, Danny..."
He broke into a run, his boots pounding the sidewalk as he sprinted for the house. He turned into the yard, dashed onto the porch, and drew the pistol from its holster. Hand trembling, he reached out and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked.
Slowly, Jim turned it and, calling his son's name, he went inside the house.
They waited in the darkness.
Martin hadn't realized he was holding his breath until Jim vanished through the front door.
Frankie checked the street for movement again. "What now?"
"We wait," he told her. "We watch and we wait for them to come out."
The night air had turned chilly, and it whistled through the hole in the ruined windshield. Frankie shivered.
"Tell me Reverend, do you really think his son is alive in there?"
Martin watched the house. "I hope that he is, Frankie. I hope."
"Me too. I think that..." Her voice trailed off and she checked the street and surrounding yards again. Carefully, she hefted the rifle.
"What is it?"
"Can't you smell them? They're coming."
Martin cracked his window and inhaled, his nose wrinkling a second later.
"They know we're here, somewhere. They're hunting for us."
"What should we do?"
"We wait. Not much else we can do."
They grew quiet again, and watched the silent houses around them. Martin turned back to Danny's house. His jittery legs bounced up and down, and he cracked his leathery knuckles in the dark.
"Stop fidgeting."
"Sorry."
Random Bible verses ran through his head, and Martin focused on that, so that he would not have to wonder what was going on inside the house. Blessed are the peacemakers...Jesus saves...For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in Him, shall not perish, but have eternal life ... And on the third day, he arose from the dead...
Martin glanced back to the house again, fighting the urge to run towards it.
He gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in Him, shall not perish, but have eternal life. And on the third day, he arose from the dead...
...His only begotten son... he arose from the dead...
A gunshot suddenly rang out, shattering the stillness. It was followed by a scream. Silence returned and then a second gunshot followed.
Both had come from inside the house.
"Oh God! Frankie, that was Jim screaming!"
"It didn't sound human to me."
"It was him! I'm sure of it."
"So what do we do now?"
"I don't know. I don't know!"
"Fuck this! Come on, Reverend!"
They jumped out of the HumVee, weapons at the ready, as the first cries of the undead drifted to them on the wind. The zombies appeared at the end of the street, and the doors to the houses began to open.
Martin's voice cracked. "Look at all of them."
Frankie aimed and fired, and the zombies charged.
"Come on!"
They ran towards the house, to see what had become of their friend.
Above them, the newly risen moon shined down upon the world, staring at a mirror image of its cold, dead self.