Die Dead Enough

by Kenney, William

  "Come on, Conor. He's gotta have something in here. Want a bottle of water?"

  Conor stared at him as if he had lost his mind, but Aiden nodded reassuringly. Conor stood and joined him as he opened the refrigerator.

  "Are you fuckin' nuts?" Conor whispered.

  Aiden handed him a bottle and a beef jerky.

  "Shhh. Wait for it," Aiden said.

  From across the room came a loud click, obviously the trigger on Aiden's empty weapon. Both brothers turned to see Matt with the rifle aimed at them. Matt shrugged with a smile, slowly lowering the AR-15.

  "I emptied it in your living room, Matt. I'm not that fuckin' dumb. Now we know, right?" said Aiden, all-too-calmly.

  Conor charged toward Matt, snatching the gun from his hands.

  "Sorry, guys..." Matt said as Conor shoved him backward. He fell to the floor and quickly stood, a short combat knife how in his hand. "Not going out without a fight, ya know?"

  "You fucking idiot," Aiden said, biting off a hunk of jerky. "My brother's a goddamned black belt."

  Matt met Conor's eyes with a look of shock.

  "Are y-?" Matt started, then lunged forward, the tip of the blade aimed at Conor's chest. Conor twisted to one side, throwing an arm up to block the attack. With his other hand he grabbed Matt's fingers and bent them backward, the knife dropping to the floor with a clatter.

  Conor quickly spun in place, kicking out and driving his heel into Matt's sternum, throwing him across the attic. He tumbled sideways in the air, trying desperately to get his feet under him, but landed between joists where his legs fell through the floor. He dropped into the bedroom below up to his chest, his legs kicking like mad as he tried to pull himself up.

  He screamed in pain suddenly, hands scrambling to find a hold.

  "Aaaah! They're biting me! You gotta - no!" he cried. "Help me!"

  Conor shook his head and walked out across a joist until he was close to Matt. The man thrashed about in agony as zombies ate away at his lower limbs.

  "Matt, Matt, Matt. You're not going out without a fight, are you?" Conor asked as the man reached out in an attempt to grab his legs.

  "Save me! Ah, fuck! Gaaaah!" Matt shouted, his body jerking about as the creatures below pulled roughly on him.

  "It's cool, Matt," Conor said and stomped down hard on his head, shoving him completely through the floor where he fell into the room beneath. The disturbing sounds of tearing flesh and breaking bones came up through the hole as the horde greedily consumed him. Conor grimaced in disgust as he came back across the unfinished portion of the attic and joined his brother at a small table, where they sat for a moment in silence.

  Eventually the horrific sounds of the zombies dwindled to low moans as most lost interest and moved out of the house, leaving a single stripped skeleton sprawled on the bedroom floor.

  Somewhere in the distance they could hear shouts and rapid gunfire as others fought for their lives. In one night the world had fallen apart, a life of ease immediately replaced with one of brutal survival. Humanity scrambled like cockroaches, simply trying to find a secure place out of reach of the new dominant life form.

  "You think Bo and Klaus are okay?" Aiden whispered.

  "Shit," Conor said, standing and crossing to the small window that sat in the wall. From there he could see the liquor store next door. It was a single-story building, rectangular and painted a garish light blue color. All sides seemed to be covered in banners and neon beer signs, which had all gone dark.

  There were two windows on the side of the building facing them and Conor could see movement within. Bo and Klaus or more zombies?

  "Someone's in there," Conor said, keeping his voice low. "Can't tell if it's them..."

  "Did they see us run in here?" Aiden asked, reaching for another bottled water.

  "No idea."

  "Well, we can't go anywhere right now anyway," Aiden said. "We gotta let her rest and get stable. I guess you don't have that walkie-talkie anymore, do you?"

  Conor shook his head.

  "Nope and I'm sure in all of the commotion, they've lost theirs as well," he said.

  "Let's find a pen and paper. We'll make a sign and put it in the window in case they're down there looking for us. Here's a Sharpie right here."

  When Bo reached the front door of the liquor store, he grabbed the handle and pulled to find it locked. In a panic he smacked both hands against the glass repeatedly, shaking the entire front wall of the place. Klaus arrived a few seconds later, breathing heavily.

  "Of course, it's locked," Klaus said, peering in the window. "Why did we think it wouldn't be?"

  "No other options, brutha. Don't matter now. We're fucked..." Bo said, turning to glance behind them. Zombies were slowly moving their way. "Thank the Lord those are the slow ones. Some of those bastards are fast as shit. Wonder why."

  Klaus moved away and began to circle the building, staring up at the rooftop. Bo followed, eyes on the approaching monsters.

  "Maybe we can get to the roof..." Klaus said. Suddenly his head was spinning and he felt light-headed, falling against a large trash dumpster that stood against the building. His face felt hot and he broke out in a thick sweat.

  "You all right?" Bo asked, helping him to stand again. Klaus shook his head and ran a palm across his face. His beard was already dripping on to his shirt.

  "Shit. I - I don't know," he said. "Feelin' sick, man. It just hit me. Almost blacked out."

  "Now's a bad time fo' that, brutha," Bo said as the first of the zombies rounded the corner.

  "Shoot 'em," Klaus urged.

  Bo shook his head.

  "You've seen these things, man. This whole clip might not bring down one of 'em," he explained. Just then he noticed zombies coming from the other end of the building, cutting off their only means of escape.

  "Goddamn..." Bo said, looking left and right. "Get up on that dumpster! That's all we can do."

  He helped Klaus quickly climb up onto the metal dumpster, then followed seconds before the first monster arrived. They now stood roughly five feet off the ground, barely out of reach of the claws that swiped at their legs. It would not take long for one of the creatures to pile on the others and reach the two of them.

  Bo kicked the first zombie square in the face, shattering its nose and coating its face with blood. The thing simply staggered back, licked its lips and came back for more. Bo kicked it again with much the same result, nearly losing balance and tumbling into the undead mob.

  Klaus was no help, standing in the center of the dumpster, holding his head, his body swaying one way then the other. To him, everything was a strange nightmare of double images and flashes of colored light. Although his mind told him what needed to be done, his body would not obey. His eyes would not focus and his legs began to shake, threatening to give out under his weight. He could hear Bo shouting to him, see his face splattered in gore, smell the rotting flesh as the horde grew and grew, but he could not offer help.

  Then Bo slipped and fell, a zombie pulling his shoestring and wrenching one leg out from under him. Bo fought like a caged animal, legs kicking rapidly, shoving the monsters away, backing from the edge of the dumpster and sliding up against Klaus.

  "Fuck, man! You gotta do something! You gotta help me, Klaus!" Bo screamed, coming up to his hands and knees, pulling the pistol from his belt. At point blank range, he blew the nearest zombie's right eye out, spinning the thing in a circle. "We are gonna die, dog! Snap the fuck out of it!"

  Klaus looked at him in what seemed like slow motion, yet he could not react. Inside he was full of panic, completely aware of their predicament. Outwardly, there was nothing he could do. His head snapped to the right in response to the blast of a shotgun. Three more shots rang out and he could hear a man shouting.

  "Come on!" came the voice, then more gunshots. "Run to me, ya'll!"

  A white-haired man, thin and dressed in fatigues, motioned them toward the back of the building as his shotgun destroyed the creature
s' heads, brains and bits of skulls showering the alleyway.

  Bo did his best to help Klaus down from their perch, but in the end he tumbled to the ground with a low moan. Bo helped him to his feet and together they ran to the man, ducking as he shot zombies just behind them.

  They saw the man look behind him, his eyes growing wide with fear.

  "Shit! Hurry! In the back door!" he called out as they reached the back of the building and turned the corner. The back door was slightly ajar and the man threw it open, allowing Bo and Klaus to slip inside as he fired a few more rounds. Zombies were now converging from all directions, attracted by the gunfire and the shouting.

  The man managed to close the door as the monsters reached it, catching two decaying hands in it as it closed. The fingers were severed and fell to the floor, still twitching even after the man stomped on them several times with his heavy boots.

  Klaus fell against the wall and dropped to the floor, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

  "Well, welcome to Jasper's Jug, ya'll. I'm Jasper. I own the place," said the man, removing his camouflaged hat and jacket. His face was deeply wrinkled and covered in age spots, his ears far too large for his head.

  "Name's Bo. This is Klaus."

  "Nice to meet ya," said Jasper, cringing as zombies battered the back door like the world's worst hailstorm. "What's wrong with yer friend? Klaus, is it?"

  "Yeah..." answered Bo. "Not sure. Started just a few minutes ago. Sick or something."

  "Hmmm... wait... he wasn't bitten out there, was he? Is that motherfucker turnin' into one of those things?" Jasper said, backing away anxiously.

  Bo stepped back as well, staring down at the fading Klaus, unsure.

  "Check 'im, man! check 'im fer bites!" shouted Jasper, gripping his shotgun tightly.

  "Hell naw..."

  "Well, I'm not doin' it. He's yer friend. You don't check 'im, he's goin' back outside. I ain't havin' it, friend. I knew I should've just left ya'll out there. Dammit to Hell!"

  Bo put his hands out.

  "All right, all right! I'll check 'im!" said Bo, kneeling next to the incoherent Klaus. There was so much blood and filth on Klaus's clothes that it was impossible to tell if he was injured. Klaus moaned and coughed, his head listing to one side.

  "Klaus, brutha... I'm gone take yo jacket off, all right?" Bo explained as he got his fingers under one slimy sleeve and began to pull. "Don't you go fuckin' trunin', dog. Ya hear me? Keep those teeth to yo damn self..."

  "Wha- what are you- ?" Klaus mumbled, resisting Bo's efforts.

  "Gone make sure you're cool, Klaus. That's all," Bo said as he got one sleeve off of his arm.

  "I - I wasn't b-bitten... no.." Klaus said, very close to losing consciousness.

  Bo jerked hard on the jacket and managed to wiggle the other sleeve away from Klaus. Along his right forearm was a shallow gash about six inches long that bled freely and appeared to be infected, the entire area bright red and swollen.

  Bo jumped up immediately, wiping his hands on his pants.

  "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Is that a fuckin' bite?" he said as Klaus blacked out and fell onto his side, smacking his head against the floor.

  Jasper raised his shotgun and pointed it at Klaus's head.

  "I ain't takin' no-" he began, but Bo cut him off.

  "No!" he screamed and pushed the gun to the side.

  "What're you doin'? That fucker's gonna turn into one of those monsters! You wanna just wait for it to wake up and eat us both?" asked Jasper. "He ain't yer friend no more, I'll tell ya that!"

  "No, no, just wait," Bo said in confusion. "What if it's not a bite? Maybe it's a scratch, ya know?"

  "A bite turns ya into a zombie, right? Why wouldn't a scratch do the same damned thing?" Jasper asked.

  "I don't know! I'm just sayin' we don't know fo sho!" Bo shouted. "Let's wait, lets wait. He might not turn. Maybe a scratch is different. Maybe it don't pass the sickness."

  "My friend, I ain't gonna stand here and wait to get chewed on..." Jasper said, his finger tapping the trigger of his twelve-gauge.

  "Come on, man. I'm just sayin' we don't know if he's gone turn. He's still a person, not a zombie, right?"

  "Okay, what do you want to do, lock him up? Keep him restrained just in case? Throw his ass in the freezer over there and wait it out?" asked Jasper, raising one eyebrow. "Now, I agree we don't know what a scratch might do, if that's what it is, but I'd bet my balls it's all gonna end up the same."

  "It just don't feel right to kill him on a guess..." Bo said, shaking his head. "Klaus said he won't bitten and... I believe that."

  "Okay, whatever. Toss him in the walk-in. Door's right behind you. It ain't cold in there no more. Power's been out for some time," Jasper said, leaning his gun against the wall.

  Together they dragged Klaus into the freezer, placing him gently on his back upon the floor.

  "Old boy ain't been missin' many meals, has he?" Jasper joked with a smile. "Must be over three-fifty."

  Bo frowned as he stared at Klaus. He watched as his hands and legs twitched and the sweat gleamed on his fevered forehead.

  "You ain't missin' too many either, I'd bet," Jasper went on.

  "What's your point?"

  "Ain't got one. Just makin' small talk. Although... I guess that'd be big talk, wouldn't it? Heh, heh. Now... yer gonna help me empty some of this stuff."

  Jasper pointed to the shelves against the freezer walls.

  "If he turns and we have to lock him in here, we won't be able to get to any of this shit."

  "Power's out," Bo replied. "This stuff gone be any good?"

  "Some of it'll go bad. But, you see them cases of imported beer right there? That's some seriously good shit and I ain't about to lose that!"

  As they transferred boxes out of the freezer, Klaus's symptoms grew worse, his convulsions and babbling shouts hurrying them along, their eyes always on his thrashing form.

  "I don't know what's goin' on, man, Bo said. "I've seen suckas get bitten. They turned quick. This ain't the same."

  "Well, if he ain't turnin', I think he's dyin'. I mean, look at 'im!"

  "Maybe a bite turns you and a scratch just kills ya..." Bo thought out loud.

  "Looked like a bite to me..." Jasper said, popping the top off of a beer.

  "Klaus said he won't bit," said Bo, shaking his head.

  "And you choose to believe a soon-to-be zombie?" Jasper asked, wrinkling his brow as he took a sip.

  "I ain't known him long, but he's a good guy," Bo said.

  "If you say so. All I know is if he turns, I'm blastin' him in the face. That's all there is to it."

  "If he turns, I'll help ya blast 'im," Bo agreed.

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah," Bo said. "Once they turn, who they were is gone. If he becomes one of those things, Klaus is dead."

  "Good enough," said Jasper. "Here, have one. It's German. Damned good."

  Bo caught the can as Jasper tossed it, then took a seat on the floor a few feet from Klaus.

  "So, yer waitin' here until ya know?" Jasper asked. "Wish I had friends like that. My friends would throw my ass out the door."

  "Just feels wrong to abandon him. I'll wait here 'til it's over."

  "All right. I can't argue with that. I'm goin' up front and - no offense - but I'm lockin' the door between here and there. Just in case he transforms into one of those dead fucks and eats yer ass."

  "Don't blame ya," said Bo. "and thanks for the beer."

  "Yer welcome. There's more where that came from if you make it out of here."

  Bo nodded and Jasper left, closing the door behind him.

  With Jasper gone, the sounds that Klaus was making became all the more disturbing, moans and screams, spittle spraying from his lips. His legs kicked out sporadically, striking the nearby shelves and sending boxes toppling to the floor.

  "Diane? Diane! You're coming apart! Fuck... so cold..." Klaus muttered, his words suddenly very clear. "Why... why is it so dar
k in here?"

  Bo took off his jacket and threw it over him. Klaus pulled it tight against his chest, his teeth now chattering.

  Hours went by, Bo sitting his silent vigil, head in his hands as Klaus's feverish tirade went on. It had to end soon. It simply had to.

  Something brushed against Bo's leg and he awoke with a start to see Klaus standing above him, staring down with red-rimmed eyes.

  "Shit, fell asleep!" Bo said, scrambling to his feet. "Klaus, you okay?"

  Klaus tilted his head, unblinking.

  "Aw, shit... Klaus?" Bo said, slowly reaching behind him for the gun in his belt. "You okay, brutha?"

  Klaus's eyes opened wide and he screamed, the echo bouncing around the freezer. Bo pulled the gun and slowly brought it up in front of him. Just then, Klaus became silent, his eyes returning to normal, a sudden recognition filling them. He shook his head, blinking his eyes repeatedly. He seemed incredibly confused.

  "Bo?" he asked, staggering and falling to his knees. "Shit. What happened? We inside the liquor store?"

  "Yeah, yeah, man," Bo said with relief and helped Klaus to his feet. "Brutha, I thought... I ain't gone say what I thought."

  "How long was I out?"

  Don't know. I fell asleep," said Bo.

  "My God, I'm thirsty..." said Klaus, licking his lips. "I... I don't remember coming in here. Last thing I remember is that dumpster and fighting them off."

  "Jasper let us in the back. It's his place," Bo explained. "I thought you were turnin', man. Fo real."

  "Well, thanks for not shooting me, Bo," Klaus said with a smile as he examined the wound along his arm. "Guess this shows what a simple scratch can do. I had the strangest nightmares..."

  Bo pulled Klaus to his feet and helped him to the freezer door, where they stepped out into the back room. All was silent now, only the slop sink's steady drip echoing in the small room. To their right was the locked door that led to the front of the store.

  Bo knocked lightly and immediately heard footsteps coming toward them, then Jasper's voice.

  "Zombies must have gotten in the back," Jasper said.

  "It's all good, Jasper. Klaus is all right now. Can we come in?"