by Lara Frater
“Zombies.”
“How many?”
“At least three, maybe more.”
“So what’s with the bottle?”
“Found a bunch of it in the basement.” I handed it to him. “Is this a good shit?”
He looked it over. “Fuck if I know—Cam was into wines. I liked drinking them.”
“What about the zombs? Shooting them might bring more.”
“I have an idea,” he said. “Hold on for a sec.” He went back into the room. I saw Eric asleep in the bed, also half robed. He grabbed a shirt from the bed, put it on and headed out, closing the door behind him.
“Come on. Don’t mention the wine.” He shoved the bottle in a bureau outside the room.
I followed him to the master bedroom. He knocked three times.
We waited a minute but she didn’t answer.
“Bitch is probably asleep.”
Jim shook his head. “She never sleeps at night.” Another minute passed before the door finally opened. Princess stood there, long blond hair down, combed and beautiful, wearing a silk nightie that barely covered her coochie.
“The fag and his hag,” she said and didn’t wait for a response. “James, why do you ruin my night?”
“We need a small favor from you, for which we have a small reward.”
Princess licked her lips. “Nurse Ratchet won’t let you give me anything, so what do you have?”
“Something nice, but I won’t tell you unless you are quiet as possible and kill the three zombs outside.”
“James--,” she said. “After this, I believe I shall take my leave of you all.”
“Worry about that later,” he said.
She smiled. Even though she was young, my age, her smile looked old and worn.
“Perhaps you would like to come with me Tanya. You are not a great shot, but you are a least better than what we have.”
I could tell she was drunk and probably took one of her pills. I’ve seen that look before in the people I sold to.
“No, thanks,” I said.
Princess laughed. “Not a thug—not really. All an act.”
“Princess, please, the zombies.”
“Yes James, I will kill the zombies for everyone.”
She retrieved her rifle, not the assault one, the nice one, and walked out of her room, not bothering to cover herself. I could see her white underwear as she went.
I took them downstairs, walked the long path to the kitchen. We got close to the windows.
They were still there in the moonlight. When they saw us, they started to move to the windows. Princess went to the back door and unlocked it. She opened the door and there were three discharges.
She slammed the door shut and walked over to the sink and leaned against it with the gun facing down. She didn’t break a sweat.
“All gone.”
An arm smashed through the window behind her. A decaying hand grabbed her by the shoulder and began pulling her to the window. She screamed and dropped the gun. It didn’t discharge.
I nabbed the cold decaying arm that despite being dead was fucking strong and yanked it off, freeing her. It left decaying material on her pale shoulder. The thing kept trying to grab at us but the size of the window blocked the way.
Princess grabbed her gun off the ground. She opened the door and fired again. Though the window I saw the bullet entered the side of its head and it fell out of sight. Princess came back in and slammed the door shut.
“You okay?” Jim asked.
It was obvious she was shaken up, couldn’t deal to be out of control for a moment.
“I’m fine,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I could have handled it.” She got herself together and smoothed out her hair.
“One day all the bullets will be gone,” Jim said, “Then there will be no one here for Princess.”
“Poor sweet James,” she said, touching his face. He pulled away.
“Tanya, why don’t you show Princess her present?”
I headed to the back of the kitchen and opened the door to the cellar. I shined the light down.
Princess’ eyes widened when she saw the bottles. The shakiness vanished. She took the flashlight from me and headed down the stairs. Jim and I followed.
Princess looked over the bottles and randomly picked out one. She held the flashlight over the label.
“Take what you want,” I said.
“This is Roederer Cristal 1990. Daddy had five bottles.”
“Worth much?” I said.
“Not much, about $7000,” she said then she threw it to the ground. It smashed in a million pieces. The smell of booze filled the air and Jim took a step back. I always figured her as a nut. “Daddy opened one once, for my 16th birthday. I said it was wonderful. I thought it tasted terrible. I didn’t like wine, but Daddy did and I loved him.” She turned to Jim. “Thank you,” she said her voice a whisper.
I walked back up the stairs, sick of the crazy bitch’s ranting. I’ll grab some wine later.
The house was still quiet, so I guess no one heard the shots. Probably ‘cause the bedrooms were three miles from the kitchen.
Except one person.
Dave stood at the bottom of the stairs. He looked calm for a change.
“Zombs?” he asked.
“Four. Princess took care of them. We’re going to have to board up a window.”
“Wow,” he said. “I’m shocked she came out of her drug stupor to help.”
“We found a wine cellar.” I didn’t mention the smashed bottle.
“She must be in heaven.”
“I’m gonna to grab a few bottles. You don’t mind?”
“I ain’t gonna drink it all if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll stay up here.”
I heard sounds behind me. Princess walked by us without acknowledgement and headed back up the stairs.
Jim came into the room next. He looked a little angry. I probably would be if I had to deal with Miss Thing.
“We good?” I said.
“Nothing else showed up.”
“I’ll tell Dan that we should go at the crack of dawn,” I said. “More will come.”
“Good thinking,” Jim said.
“Forget to ask, how’s Eric doing?”
“He’s upset about his mother and at Princess.”
“She’s a bitch but she did the right thing.” I thought about missing the shot that might have saved Maddie.
“I told him but he’s still pissed.”
“At least he’s got you.”
Jim didn’t reply.
“I’ll see about finding something to board the window,” Dave said.
I looked at Dave. He looked uncomfortable. I knew he didn’t like Maddie, but he’d been nice to her ever since we got back from our trip. At least now he was learning when to keep his mouth shut.
“I’m going to go back to Eric,” Jim said. “I don’t like leaving him alone.”
Jim headed up the stairs then stopped when a woman screamed. Shots rang out and the screaming stopped.
“Fuck!” he yelled and moved up the stairs quickly. The light from his flashlight going everywhere. Dave and I followed.
“Eric!” he started screaming but it couldn’t have been him, it was a woman’s voice.
When I got upstairs, I found Jim outside his room with Eric who looked dazed but fine. Annemarie and Henry came out of their room and Princess peered from hers, but didn’t come out.
The only door still shut was Rachel’s.
I looked at everyone. They looked at the door but no one opened it.
I got no problem looking at death, so I did it. The room was dark, no signs of light from flashlight or candles.
I flashed my light on the bed and there was Dan, dead. His face twisted and shot but he also had the pasty and eyes glazed over look. What the fuck was going on?
“Rachel,” I said. “Rachel, where the fuck are you? Are you hurt?”
I heard sniffling in the cor
ner and focused my light.
Rachel sat there with Mindy’s handgun in her hand, crying. Her face and hair a mess. There were deep scratches across her face.
“What happened?” I asked, walking closer.
“Don’t come any closer, Tanya,” she said, waving the gun around.
I stopped. Jim came into the room but stayed behind me.
“Rachel,” he said. “Please, put the gun down and come over to us.”
Rachel didn’t move.
“I gave the virus to him. I gave in and fucked him. I was so distraught over Maddie and all the others, I gave in. He said it would be okay. That I was immune. It isn’t okay. I gave the virus to him. He got sick, then died and came back. I shot him. I’m not a saint or immune, I’m a carrier. A fucking carrier and I can give it to anyone easily.”
“Doc,” Jim said, his tone desperate. “It’s okay, you didn’t know. Now put the gun down, please. I’m sorry about Dan, about Maddie, but we have to move on and survive.”
“Survive?” she said, still waving the gun. “All dead because of me, all dead because Abe decided I had to be leader. I’m not a leader. I’m a liar and adulterer.”
“We’re all liars,” Jim said. “And I don’t think the adultery matters now. Please put down the gun. Let’s get dressed and leave, okay. It’s late but we can get ready to go. Tanya found a wine cellar in the basement. We can have a party in the living room until dawn and then we can find a boat, a big beautiful boat and sail our way out of here. Sail from this terrible place.”
Rachel looked at me, the gun still steady in her hand. “Tanya— You don’t know how strong you are. People saw you as a thug, or stupid, but I didn’t. I saw you for exactly who you were, smart and strong. Jim—sweet Jim. You held us together. You can both remake this world, I am the end of this darkness, the end of the line for the human race, you are both the beginning.”
“Rachel, please,” Jim said. His voice high and frantic. His sweetness wasn’t gonna save the day. I knew from the tone of her voice that even if I tried I wouldn’t be able to stop her in time.
“I know you went to my house,” she said. “And you saw what I did. I remember now. I wanted to forget. They both died. My husband died first in the hospital. He didn’t come back. Then my daughter got the flu. By then everything was so overwhelmed I kept her at home. She came back, so I locked her away. I couldn’t kill her. Did you kill her? Did you?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Thank you.”
“Rachel,” Jim said, pleading. “Please, don’t do it. We need you.”
“Take care of them,” she said, then stopped crying and smiled. “I’m finally happy now.”
Then Rachel turned the gun on herself.
The bang didn’t scare me. I was used it now.
“Rachel!” Jim screamed. “Rachel!” He rushed to her.
I didn’t stop him. She was dead, gone. The weight on the world was now on me. I didn’t believe Rachel for a moment. I wasn’t the smart and strong girl she saw. I was a liar, a thief, a drug dealer, and a horrible mother. How could I be the hope for the future, in a world of nothing?
Part V
Chapter 27
Grace.
I left after she died and went back to my room. I wondered about the morning and if they would leave her body or burn it? I let them deal with their follies.
I did not want the wine. Did not want to think of Daddy or uncle Len or Joseph or Edina. Never use or more than once in a sentence the tutor said. Daddy did not care about my education, only that I should at least have a degree in something and should never embarrass the family like that Hilton girl. I always looked up to Daddy and after him when mother left.
We were sure when the virus came we would survive without a problem. “Only a strong bug,” Joseph said. “It won’t affect us if we stay away from others.” He was a doctor, so he knew or at least he thought he did. Our house in the Hamptons offered plenty to do and I had a list of summer reading that needed to be tackled. Our housekeeper Edina told the staff not to come in if they were sick. Daddy treated the staff well. They were paid honest wages and he valued hard work.
I had been on break from Vassar, bored of school and the young rich girls pretending to be poor. I went slumming with them once, but it bored me. They made it seem like I had never seen a black person beyond servants. Daddy had friends all over the globe, including wealthy people from African nations and Latin American countries. What these other girls wanted was us to friend the gardeners. I liked our staff, found them highly competent, but I doubted that either of us would want to spend an evening together. Daddy said the color of a person’s skin didn’t matter; only what they could do. Daddy valued smart, wealthy and powerful people.
This was why we thought we would survive. We were smart, and we had everything. While I never did dishes or mopped floors, I could survive. Daddy made sure. He always made sure Joe and I had a skill someone would need. Mine turned out to be guns. Daddy took me hunting at a young age. I killed my first fox when I was 11. Daddy made me skin it. Said if I killed something for food or clothing, I would have to deal with the death.
Or so I thought. There’s that or again. Shouldn’t start it to open a sentence.
I impressed Daddy with by my natural shooting ability and the trophies I bought home. He got me beautiful hunting rifles for my birthday and Christmas. Joe got me the one on my back now. The rifle was custom built for me; they’d measured my chest, both arms, and the width of my shoulders to get the measurements right. It wasn’t even meant to shoot humans. It took a 30-06 cartridge, meant to take out an 800 pound buck. Polished walnut stock, a 1 inch scope ring, a perfectly balanced device that felt like an extension of my arm. The manual action slid effortlessly back and forth, I could chamber a round every second if I wanted.
Which made his death quick.
“Princess,” said Jim’s voice from my door. “We’re getting ready to go.”
I liked Jim despite the stupid nickname he gave me. I would never admit it. Sweet as the pie my nanny Joyce used to make. He was kind to me even though I did not deserve it.
The colors of the morning light came into the bedroom. I enjoyed sleeping here. More comfortable than that office in CostKing but I missed it. It felt safe. No zombies bursting through the windows.
I looked outside and saw a beautiful clear day. Those wacky environmentalists were right. Our presence destroyed the air. Now a year after humans fell, the air seemed cleaner and the sky brighter.
He knocked again.
“I heard you,” I said, and I heard him walk away.
I didn’t see any zombies, but I faced a wooded area.
I went back to the bed and began brushing my long blond hair. Jim sometimes cut the ends, but he wasn’t a stylist. I put it in a ponytail.
I chose my clothes, stylish yet easy to move in. CostKing clothes were disgusting and didn’t fit like my custom made ones. I looked into the closet of the room. The woman who lived here took her comfortable clothes and left the rest. I went through a long line of dresses.
Instead I threw on jeans and a polo shirt. I looked tacky but no one was watching so I guess I shouldn’t care. None of my friends were around to judge me, they were probably dead.
I put on a little make up. Pretended I was getting ready to ride the horses. A little eyeliner, some lipstick.
I hated not being able to shower today. Showers were plentiful at CostKing as long as there was enough rain water. I did wash off the stench of the thing that touched me. He grabbed my shoulder so tightly I still had indentation marks.
I packed my bag. I travelled light now: Water, makeup, snacks, first aid kit and bullets. Two nice guns now. The assault rifle was a marvelous machine. Daddy didn’t allow it. He said it was overkill but not when trying to take down hundreds of flesh eating zombies.
It wouldn’t have saved him.
I looked at the bottle of Xanax. I took one a day, washed it down with booze, whatever I could
find, even beer. I could take plenty of fine wines from the cellar. When I took my pills, I didn’t remember about daddy, Joe, Len and Edina and how I murdered all of them.
It was Daddy’s best friend that brought it. Not the flu. None of us got it. Uncle Len decided to shelter with us. Before he got into his car, he was attacked by a mob. He managed to make it to the car and to our house. By then it was already too late. He called the people savages and one had even bit him!
My father stayed calm but I knew he was worried. The phones stopped working, and cell phone coverage was intermittent and when it worked, no one ever answered. Many websites were down and the news only reported the flu and the riots.
Joe cleaned the wound on Len and Daddy offered him a room upstairs when Len said the bite hurt and he wanted to rest. That is what terrified me when they bought in Jim, that he had gotten bitten. He doesn’t know that I refused payment to help him.
Daddy tried to get a flight out of New York. Calls to the airport, when the cells worked, were always busy or unanswered.
He decided we should shelter in the house which we thought would be safe from rioters. The house was already gated and Joe, Daddy and Edina helped barricade the doors and windows. Edina said there was enough food to last for a few weeks. Daddy was kind to her, allowing her to stay in the main house and share our meals.
I went upstairs to my room. I tried to call my mother who I think was in France. The last time I saw her was a month ago when I visited her in Prague. I tried calling three times before it started ringing. I heard my mother’s voice but she didn’t answer. I left a message that things were bad here and to please call me. I never heard my mother’s voice again. I did not know if she was alive or dead.
It was 9am when we were first able to get Mike on the CB. Dave, a rough man who hated me, didn’t bother asking me to call him. He held the CB in one hand and the wheel with the other. Now that the sun was out, Dave was able to maneuver around broken down cars and potholes. He was glad for my gun when it mattered. I hadn’t taken the Xanax today. I didn’t know why.
“Mike, this is Dave, what’s going on?”
“Dave, I’m glad to hear your voice. We were worried you wouldn’t make it.”