by Stevie Kopas
“We need more towels!” Moira hollered and Leti ran to the kitchen to get them. Robbie lay on the floor, bleeding out from a massive wound on his right forearm. It was so deep that bone was exposed and chunks of flesh hung from his arm. Nausea briefly overtook Samson before he arrived at his son’s side. Leti thrust the towels into his hands and he applied pressure to the wound.
“Moira, I need you to calm down. I need you to get me a sheet.” He stared down at his son’s chubby tear streaked face as he barked orders at his wife. Moira flew up from the floor, disappearing through the kitchen and down the hall. She returned a few moments later with a green 800 thread count Egyptian cotton bed sheet from the guest bedroom. Samson tied the sheet as tightly as he could around his son’s arm and then wrapped and tied again until he was sure it was good enough to allow the bleeding to subside for the time being. That was the first and last time Moira didn’t get angry about someone ruining something in their home.
The eater that bit Robbie never showed up at the front door. Samson to this day didn’t know how his son had gotten away and made it home unnoticed by whichever undead had attacked him. An hour had passed and his wife and daughter sat at his son’s side as his fever grew worse with every passing minute. Samson stood by the door watching them with a grim look on his face, knowing what was coming.
When the world starting falling apart and all his cases were delayed “until further notice” he had been at the county jail, just finishing up with a client. On his way out he overheard a couple of the guards discussing “abandoning ship” after seeing a few of the prisoners attack one another and that they had realized the infection was spreading so fast because it was spreading through the bites. Samson then saw it for himself from the comfort of his own home as his friends and neighbors ripped each other apart outside in the street. The unlucky bastards that bled out too quickly got back up in just seconds and joined their attackers in chasing someone else.
“Moira, we need to talk.” She looked up at him, her make up running down her face, her hands and clothes covered in dried blood.
“I’ll get fresh sheets for Robbie.” She stood up and walked to the closet.
“Moira, please, we need to talk about this.” She scowled at him as he pleaded with her, sheets in hand she closed the closet door.
“What is it Sammy?” She placed a hand on her hip and waited for his response. Keira looked at her parents, fear in her round brown eyes.
“I need to speak with you privately. Please.” He shared a soft smile with Keira before he stepped into the hallway and motioned for his wife to follow him. Moira placed the sheets at the end of the bed and left the room, closing Robbie’s door behind her. “Moira,” he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “Robbie is dying, he’s been bitten.”
“You don’t know that!” She snapped back at him in hushed anger. “You don’t know shit! You just need to get your ass out to a pharmacy and get something to help him!” She shook his hands from her body and pushed him away.
“He’s been bitten! Obviously!” Samson argued back. “You know damn well what happens to-“
Moira cut him off with a slap across the face. Leti, hearing the angry slap from all the way downstairs called out to them, “Is everything alright up there?”
“Stay out of this Leti! You have work to do!” Moira shouted down to her. “And as for you,” she shoved a finger into Samson’s chest, “whatever it is you are suggesting I will have you know that I will kill you myself. That is my son you are talking about!”
Samson was stunned. “He’s our son, Moira. That is our son in there, but he will not be for very much-“ a blood curdling scream erupted from their son’s room, filling the house and interrupting him midsentence. “Keira!” Samson yelled as he pushed past Moira and threw open Robbie’s door.
He did not want to believe the nightmare happening before his eyes. Robbie, mere minutes ago had been passed out, but was now on top of his sister, ripping out her throat like a savage beast. He ran to his children and in one fierce movement tore Robbie off of Keira and threw him to the floor. Moira ran to her daughter who lay sprawled out on the bed, choking on her own blood. Without hesitation, Samson grabbed the sheets from the end of the bed and wrapped them around his son’s neck. Robbie growled and fought his father, but Samson had him pinned down. He pulled the sheet through the foot of the bed frame tightly, pulling Robbie back against it and tied the other end of the sheet around his wrists. Robbie hissed and howled, his face empty of expression other than the sheer hunger Samson had seen on so many other dead faces.
“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Leti screamed from the doorway.
“Leti! Sheets! Now!” Samson screamed. He pushed Moira away from his daughter’s dying body and placed a boot down on her chest.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Moira cried and yelled and punched him, throwing her small frame into his body. Leti ran into the room and threw Samson the sheets, running back out, escaping the horror of the bedroom.
“Get away now!” Samson, tied his daughter as he had tied his son, but to the headboard. Keira stopped choking and ceased all movement. “I’m so sorry baby girl.” He kissed her forehead and cried as his daughter’s eyes clouded over with a milky white film. Keira wheezed and her head jerked up at him. A ferocious growl escaped her mouth, she struggled against her ties to no avail. Samson watched as Robbie did the same at the other end of the bed. It was as if his life was unraveling in slow motion. The monsters from children’s nightmares had come and taken Robbie and Keira from him. He didn’t know how his feet moved by themselves as he backed out the door, watching in absolute horror and amazement the two newly awakened eaters as they spit and screamed like demons from the bed. Moira lay in a crumpled heap on the hardwood floor, reminding him of a pile of dirty clothes. He picked her up in his arms and cried. She continued to lay motionless and silent. Leti sobbed downstairs somewhere.
“That night I lay in bed listening to the howls of the children from down the hall. Moira hadn’t spoken for hours.” Veronica was staring at him now as Samson spoke so solemnly. She understood his pain. “She had gotten out of bed around 2am but I didn’t think anything of it. After some time had passed I forced myself to get up and find her, thought she might have needed me. But when I walked into the kitchen I found Moira standing over Leti’s body with a bread knife in her hand. The only thing she said to me was ‘I need you to help me feed the children.’”
Veronica twisted a strand of hair between her fingers as she set her pole down against the dock. She looked down at her feet. “But you’re not going to feed me to your children.”
Samson shook his head. “No Veronica. But I do need you to help me free my children.” He frowned as he spoke. “You asked how many and two is a high enough answer for me to ever give. It isn’t something I could ever, or would ever be able to do alone. You took care of your father and your brother when the time came. Something I couldn’t do for Keira and Robbie.” He reiterated that he couldn’t do it himself. He swallowed hard, saying it aloud reminded him all the more that he could have been a better father, and should have been a better man.
Veronica let go of her hair and looked up at him. “What about Moira?”
He put his face in his hands and squeezed at his skin. How did he allow his wife to go mad? How did he allow his children to meet a fate worse than any he could have ever imagined? He dropped his hands to the rail. “Moira will handle Moira. She always does.”
VII
The walk back to Franklin Woods was a quick one. As night fell, Samson and Veronica knew they had to move fast and almost silently. Paradise Bay’s surrounding area had been empty, but Franklin Woods was on the edges of town.
They quickened their pace when they heard movement in the trees on both sides of the road. They didn’t know why, but the eaters seemed more active at night, like animals hunting. “Just up here, come on now.” Samson whispered to Veronica when he saw the guard house. Samson ushered her past him �
�Third house in.” He looked around to ensure they weren’t followed and grunted, pulling the heavy gate, enclosing them in the community. Veronica waited a few feet ahead for him to catch up.
She eyed the house up and down as they approached. “I like your cars.” She pointed at the wreck in front of Samson’s house.
Samson rolled his eyes and started up the dark driveway. Veronica stood staring. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “We need to get inside, come on.”
He unlocked the front door and placed the key back in his pocket. Quietly, he opened the door and the two stepped inside. Veronica was appalled by the overpowering smell of about 30 different air freshener scents that filled the room. Remnants of blood that no amount of cleaning could fix stained the hardwood floor in the living room. She looked over at the staircase, nervous about what she had just involved herself in. What else do I have to do?
“Where the hell have you been all day?” A shrill voice called from the kitchen. “It’s after dark already!” High heeled footsteps drew closer and a small, big breasted blonde woman emerged from the other room. “What the…” Moira stopped in her tracks, a doe in the headlights look. “We, we have a guest.” She brushed her hair behind her ears and wiped her hands on her pale blue skirt, glancing from Veronica to Samson and back again. Samson thought for a moment that she might have seen in the girl what he had; the marred innocence of the stranger who survived the world beyond their doors, the girl who might as well have been Keira’s own sister. But she hadn’t. “Moira Eckhart, pleased to meet you darlin’, excuse the mess, we don’t have a housekeeper anymore.” His wife grinned ear to ear as she strutted up to Veronica.
Veronica didn’t speak, but instead stared at this unbelievably put together woman in a ripped apart world. Samson took a step forward and stood between Moira and Veronica. He glanced at the handle of the bread knife sticking out from her waistband and shook his head in sadness. She stopped just short of Samson, confused. “Moira.” Samson’s voice was low. He shook his head again. His wife crossed her arms in front of her and cocked her head.
“Oh what the hell is this?” Her confusion changed to anger. “What are you doing?”
“I’m doing what I should have done from the beginning. Please, understand I can’t do this anymore. I can’t allow these things to-“
“What are you, stupid? These things? These things, Samson?! What things?! These things are your children. Remember? Our children.” Her voice rose and she made wild gestures with her arms as she spoke. Her eyes were wide and crazed as she stood up straight, her tiny frame appearing larger with each word that came out of her mouth. “What do you think you’re going to do exactly? Why is this piece of white trash standing in my house?” Samson removed his pistol and held it in his shaking hands.
Moira’s face twisted with horror and rage as she screamed. “I have told you before and I will tell you again, I will fucking kill you in your sleep! I will slit this girl’s throat and feed them myself!” Moira ripped the knife from her waist and began slowly walking toward them, the knife pointed straight at Veronica. Veronica backed away and toward the staircase, ready to flee at any moment.
He answered her softly. “This is not my family anymore. I am not the provider anymore.” Moira’s expression went from angry to blank. He pointed at the ceiling, “They are not my children. And you,” he stuck a finger in his wife’s chest. “You’ve always been crazy, but you are no longer my wife. I can’t allow this world to determine what kind of person I become like you have.”
Moira’s angered expression returned as she slapped Samson’s finger away, shoving him back against the couch he stood near, knocking the gun from his hand and throwing the knife at him. She rushed to the stairs, shoving Veronica to the floor. “Moira!” Samson called out as she disappeared up the stairs. He threw his bag to the floor and started after her. Veronica watched as he too disappeared up the stairs. She heard a door slam open and loud growls and moans instantly filled the house. She stumbled around on the floor, goose bumps travelled up her arms as grabbed the pistol and got to her feet. Her hands did not shake as she began climbing the stairs. She could hear Moira and Samson’s muffled arguing but only faintly as the sound of her own heartbeat overpowered everything else in her head. Maybe this was her chance to help someone, to help Samson, before things got ugly.
She turned the corner and the sounds of the undead were deafening as she entered the room. She slowly raised the pistol, ignoring both Moira’s screaming and Samson’s shouting as he tried to hold his wife back and away from the decaying monsters pulling on their restraints.
Just as Veronica squeezed the trigger, she locked eyes with the dead girl and felt a churning in her stomach for a moment, wondering if this is exactly how she would look should she ever meet this same fate. But in a final fleeting second, Moira escaped her husband’s grasp and leapt onto the bed in what she saw as an attempt to save what was once her daughter from yet another death. The bullet exploded out of the gun and into Keira’s skull, her head slumping forward onto her shoulders. Moira screamed as Robbie tore into the flesh on her exposed legs that were now before him, she kicked as streams of blood sprayed from her calf and feet as her son continued to eat. Strips of skin and muscle were ripped from her leg and the bedroom was a bloodbath.
“Robbie stop! Stop!” Moira’s screams and sobs seemed louder than both the bullet Veronica fired into Keira and the one she now fired into Robbie. Moira continued screaming, but now at Samson, who tried to aid her. “Get away! Get out of here! You monsters! Get the fuck out and don’t you come back!” Veronica’s ears were ringing, her mouth was dry and she felt like she was back in the city all over again. Moira punched and slapped and kicked at Samson. His face was frozen in horror as he backed away toward Veronica, who still had the pistol raised. Samson placed a hand on the gun and took it from her now shaking hands.
Moira attempted to stand but her legs gave out and she fell to the floor. “I will fucking kill you! Both of you!” She dragged herself forward in their direction, the tendons in her leg severed and useless, and blood flowed from her with every movement. A single fingernail broke off as she continued to drag herself into the hallway where Samson and Veronica now stood. “Do you hear me?! Get out of this house! And if you come back, I will kill you!”
Veronica thought that Moira might have screamed her words as a warning rather than a threat as she stumbled hastily down the stairs and into the living room. Samson grabbed another bag from the floor near the couch and ran to the kitchen, filling it with what he could. Veronica tried to read his face, but it was as if the man was suddenly made of stone. He gave the new bag to Veronica and placed his own bag on his back. He handed her the pistol and nodded, showing her Al’s shotgun.
He hesitated at the door, listening to Moira’s repetitive screaming from upstairs. He thought of the children, and the burden that had been lifted from his chest, their souls finally free of this wretched world. He thought of Leti, of Will, of Tracy. Of all the others that he once knew that were now gone. He couldn’t allow himself to think of Moira. “We need to go.” He finally said to Veronica without turning around to look at her.
The two left the house. Out of habit, Samson pulled the key from his pocket and locked the door. Moira had suddenly stopped screaming. He didn’t stop to wonder why. They rushed down the driveway and Samson passed the wreck on the street for the last time. He looked over his shoulder for a brief second as they fled Franklin Woods at what was once his home. Wondering if the man he once was had died in that house with the rest of his world.
They stopped briefly so Samson could lock up the gate to Franklin Woods. He pulled an industrial strength chain from his bag along with the padlock from Will’s shed. There was nothing left there for him. There was nothing left there for anyone. Just another house I can’t steal food from.
VIII
The walk back to The Dockside Bar and Grill was silent except for the demonic cries that escaped the trees surrounding th
em. Samson and Veronica quickened their pace to a slow jog from time to time but decided walking was much quieter and they’d have more time to make a life or death decision if it came down to it.
Veronica played the scene from Samson’s house over and over like a bad dream in her head. She still heard Moira’s vicious screams as if she were standing next to her. It was dark, but she could slightly make out Samson’s facial expression. Blank. She worried that the man might have cracked. From Veronica’s experience with the end of the world over the past few weeks, she figured everyone went crazy and that there were two ways a person could crack. Like she did, or like Moira had.
When they arrived at the restaurant Veronica thought Samson would have been a little more careful entering the building, but to her surprise he walked right up to the door, threw it open and waltzed in as if the place were still operating business as usual. She looked around cautiously, listening to her surroundings. Water licked at the dock posts and the boats made their usual rocking noises. Somewhere off in the distance the frogs croaked and she felt a pang of jealousy at how it seemed for certain species on this planet, the world hadn’t changed at all.
Behind the bar inside, Samson ignored the foul smell that repeatedly punched him in the nose. He rummaged noisily, and being a whiskey man, stopped when he found the bottle of Gentleman’s Jack that someone had so cleverly hidden behind the lesser quality bottles. He looked up when Veronica walked in.