Die Dead Enough

by Kenney, William

  "Maybe we should talk to them..." Klaus said, trying to peek around the corner of the aisle. "Safety in numbers-"

  "Maybe for you, brutha, but these racist muthafuckas ain't gone think twice about shootin' my black ass."

  Klaus nodded and held his breath as he heard the front door shudder.

  "Fuckin' thing's locked, Coach," Bobby said, pulling the door a few times. He then put his hands to the glass and looked inside. "Someone's got this place barricaded. Shit's stacked up in front of the door. Somebody's probably hidin' out in there."

  A few moments later the coach joined Bobby at the door. After studying the situation, he stepped back and took a long look at the overall building.

  "Better open up in there!" the coach called out. "We don't want the building, just the booze. Nobody needs to die over it."

  "Son of a bitch," Conor said, staring down from the attic. "Bunch o' good-ole-boys trying to break the door down over there."

  Aiden moved up next to him.

  "Damn. That's a lot of good-ole-boys, too," he said. "Matt had plenty of ammo for the rifle, so I'm good to go."

  "No way. Must be thirty-five of 'em down there. The way they're armed, they'd blow the roof off this place as soon as you started shootin'," Conor said.

  Just then, the rumble of tires and loud motors reached their ears. A column of military vehicles came down the road from the north, armored and covered in soldiers.

  "There's someone in there!" a young man called out, pointing through the windows from the side of the liquor store. "Two dudes, one black, one white!"

  Coach leaned in and put his face near the door.

  "We'll be back, my friends," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the slow-moving line of camouflaged vehicles. "You really should've opened the door..."

  "We leavin', Coach?" asked Bobby.

  "You wanna kill these guys in front of the army?" Coach replied. "Stupid move. We'll be back, don't worry."

  Coach slapped his hand against the door.

  "I got something that'll take this damned door right off the hinges, you pussies! See you in a few."

  At Coach's command, the group returned to their vehicles and tore out, throwing cinders into the air. Several of them gave an exaggerated salute as they passed the trucks in the column.

  "Conor, they got the place clean right now. Not a zombie in sight. We need to get out group back together," Aiden urged.

  Conor gave a quick nod.

  "You're right. Get the bags. Make sure you grab everything important. Hurry," he said.

  He then turned back to the window.

  "Klaus! Bo!" he shouted.

  Klaus' face appeared in the window.

  "We're comin' down!" Conor said. "Coast is clear right now. Might not get another chance."

  Klaus nodded vigorously as Bo joined him.

  "Back door!" Bo said. "Make it quick, ya'll!"

  Conor and Aiden had previously loaded both of Matt's backpacks full of supplies. Matt had been very prepared for the possibility of these exact circumstances, the only drawback being that the packs were now quite heavy. Trish convinced the brothers that she was now fit enough to carry some of the weight, so they lightened their bags a bit and assembled a lightweight shoulder bag that weighed around twenty pounds.

  They dropped the attic steps, pausing long enough to verify that the room was empty, then heading down. They carefully exited the bedroom, moving into the hall and then to the staircase. They stared down in horror, the bodies of several zombies still thrashing about, incapacitated by wounds to the limbs or heads, unable to stand or in some cases, see.

  Conor put a finger to his lips and descended as silently as possible. Two of the zombies turned their heads, the hunger immediately upon them. The creatures began to pull themselves across the floor, both dragging useless legs, still determined to reach them. Conor led the group through the creatures, his gun trained on the nearest as they passed.

  The front door was now in pieces, screen bent and shoved aside. Broken glass crunched under their feet as they stepped through the opening and onto the front porch. The lawn was empty of monsters for the time being.

  "All right, let's go," Aiden said. "Hurry!"

  Together they broke into a run, the brothers keeping Trish between them in case she faltered. The chaotic drumbeat of their steps echoed strangely as they reached the parking lot next door and started down the alleyway toward the back of Jasper's Jug.

  "Ah! Slow down, slow down," Trish said, grimacing in pain as she clutched her side. Aiden turned to help her with a hand around her waist.

  "Damn..." Conor said, his eyes looking past them into the distance. "We gotta go now. We're about to have company."

  Aiden and Trish turned to see a horde of hundreds trudging toward them between the buildings on the next street. It would not take long for the zombies to reach them.

  "Open the back door!" Conor shouted as they reached the corner at the back of the store and turned. They stopped abruptly, noticing a slumped figure against the wall near the back door. It was a woman in her thirties, her head down, hands covered in blood. Both brothers aimed their weapons in her direction.

  "Hey," Aiden said to get her attention, prepared to shoot if she revealed herself to be a zombie.

  She slowly raised her head, eyes heavy as she produced a weak smile.

  "Hey..." she replied.

  "You're not a zombie," Aiden said.

  "Not yet," she said.

  "You bitten?" asked Conor as the back door flew open, revealing Bo, shotgun in hand.

  "Nope," the woman said. "No bites..."

  "You sure about that?" asked Bo as the sounds of the approaching army of the undead grew louder. "That's a lot o' blood."

  The woman held up both arms, displaying deep crimson cuts across both wrists.

  "Self-inflicted," she stated and let her arms drop again. "Didn't go deep enough..."

  "Well, come on, then," Bo said, stepping out and pulling her to her feet. He nudged her inside the building and the others quickly followed, Bo sealing the door behind them.

  Moments later the unmistakable sounds of the zombies was all around them, hands pounding the back door, breaking glass up front as they reached through the bars.

  "It's good to see ya'll again," Bo said with a smile and extended hand. The brothers gave firm handshakes as Trish dropped to the floor in pain, hand at her side. "You all right, baby girl?"

  "Yeah," she said, breathing heavily. "Just need to rest. Guess I'm not ready from prime-time yet."

  "It's not bleeding again, is it?" asked Aiden.

  She glanced beneath her shirt at the bandage.

  "No, it's good," she answered with a smile and a little wink.

  Bo raised an eyebrow at the obvious flirtation between the two of them, but kept quiet.

  The freezer door opened, Klaus stepping out with a wide grin.

  "Hey, you guys made it," he said, slapping them each on the shoulder. He noticed the new woman and her bloody hands, stepping back.

  "Whoa, who's this?" he asked.

  "What's your name?" Conor asked as he searched his backpack for bandages.

  "Bailey," she said quietly.

  "Nice to meet you, Bailey," said Klaus with a nod.

  There was a long, uncomfortable pause in the room as Conor found what he was searching for.

  "Would you guys stop staring at me?" Bailey asked. "Yes, I tried to kill myself. I didn't want to be eaten alive. I had nowhere to go..."

  The others looked at each other awkwardly.

  "No one's judging you, Bailey," Klaus offered with a shrug. "If you don't wanna talk about it... don't."

  "They got into the house while we were sleeping," Bailey explained as Conor wrapped her wrists. "They... they ate our kids before we woke up. M-my husband..."

  She began to break down, sobbing, her breath catching in her chest.

  Trish reached over and put her arm around Bailey's shoulders.

  "I'm sorry,"
Trish said. "You're safe now."

  She and her husband had fought the night before, waking the children and most likely the neighbors as well. It was a silly and pointless argument as most of them were, money being the subject.

  She hated the fact that they had gone to bed angry at one another, something her mother had always told her to avoid. Ever since they had met, in high school, they had been inseparable, sticking together no matter what.

  His problem was that he just did not know how to handle his finances, always forgetting to make payments, racking up late charges and unnecessary interest on his accounts. When it came time to pay this month's mortgage, there simply was not enough in their bank account to cover it.

  She had exploded.

  Every time one of these arguments occurred, she used his mother against him. She knew it infuriated him, telling him that his mother had not taught him to handle money, never taught him to take proper care of himself, never pushed him to get a better job.

  She had hoped he would change after they were married, but no such luck.

  God, she wished she could take back the things she had said on that last night.

  They had only been asleep for an hour or so when the things came through the basement door and up the stairs to the girls' room. Once Bailey had awakened from the strange sounds emanating from down the hall, it was far too late. When she entered that room...

  That image she would never be able to forget, the little bodies torn open, the glaring white of their rib bones, the empty stares on their bloody faces.

  Each time the image returned, she wanted nothing more than to end it, jump from a building, put a bullet in her head. What reason did she now have to go on?

  They were all dead.

  She should be, too.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Once Bailey had been taken care of, the group settled into the freezer, using boxes to create sitting areas, carefully avoiding Jasper's prone form. He shook and babbled as the fever raged inside of him.

  Conor shared the cans of food that they had scavenged from the attic, Bo and Klaus grateful for the change in diet as they shoved potted meat and Vienna sausages in their mouths.

  By morning Jasper was back among the living, although his face resembled a Halloween mask, criss-crossed with scabbed stitches and bruises.

  Introductions were made and a breakfast of beef jerky, canned peaches and Gatorade was had by all.

  The horde had mostly wandered away with only twenty or so stragglers shuffling around the building outside. All was relatively peaceful and calm until the roar of truck engines returned around noon.

  "Shit, the good-ole-boys are back," Bo said, peeking through the backroom door. "And there's more of 'em. Must be fitty o' those pigfuckahs out there."

  He could see Coach climb down from his 4 x 4, remove his camouflaged cap and scratch his head.

  "Told ya we'd be back!" he called out and his gang cheered and whistled. "Sure hope ya'll hit the road because things are about t'get real down here."

  "See, now ya got me pissed off. I don't even care if you come out with your hands up, ya see? I'm gonna kill anyone inside. Then we're gonna load up the trucks with all that beer and head off into the sunset."

  Coach motioned to someone else and a black truck pulled up close to the front door of Jasper's Jug. There was a large winch covering the front grill and Coach pulled the hook and cable loose, attaching it to the bars on the front door.

  "Oh, shit, ya'll," Bo said, turning to the others who had gathered just behind him. "We gone have to make a run for it. They gone rip the damned door off!"

  They could hear the hook rattling against the door as the driver put the truck in reverse and began to pull the cable taut.

  "Grab yo shit and get the fuck outta here!" Bo called out, racing toward the back door.

  "We can fight! We've got guns and plenty of ammo!" Conor argued, still staring at the door between he and Coach.

  "Bo's right, brother," Aiden said, pulling him past the freezer, snatching up his backpack. "This is one we can't win. Let's get out while we can."

  There was a horrendous grinding sound and a splintering of wood as the front door and half the wall ripped free and clattered to the ground. The crowd outside cheered and some shot rounds into the air.

  "Make sure they don't get out through the back," Coach could be heard to say as he stepped into the store.

  "I'll blow his goddamned face off for fuckin' my store up like that..." Jasper said, but Trish pulled him away.

  They threw the back door open and charged out, heading across the grass toward the houses on the street beyond. Gunshots filled the air as Coach's boys came down the alley, engaging the zombies that lingered there. Aiden turned and began walking backwards, eye to his scope, sights trained on the back corner of the building.

  "Come on out, motherfuckers, come on..." he whispered. "I'll drop every last one of you."

  "Bo, Klaus, get the others over to the next street," said Conor, hanging by Aiden's side. "We'll hold them off and give you guys cover."

  "Bullshit! It's my damned store!" Jasper said, cocking his gun. "I'm stayin'!"

  "Come on, dammit..." Bo said, dragging the old man by the arm. "You can barely see out of one eye, Jasper. Let's go, help me get the girls to safety."

  Jasper cursed and spat but followed Bo reluctantly toward the nearest fence line.

  A fat, young boy with an orange hunter's vest was the first to round the corner of Jasper's Jug, pistol at the ready, aimed in the brothers' direction. His head flew violently back as a massive chunk of skull flew into the air behind him, stopping his comrades in their tracks.

  They could hear the others frantically communicating as they pulled back in fear, awaiting orders from Coach.

  "That'll slow 'em down for a bit," Aiden said, turning to run after the others. "Let's go."

  Just then one of the good-ole-boys opened fire, bullets whistling by their heads as they neared Bo and the others. Everyone scrambled for cover, diving behind the wooden fence that surrounded the house they had reached. A dozen holes appeared in the fence above their heads as they lay with their chests to the ground.

  "What the fuck are they shootin'?" Conor asked as he and the others jumped up and ran between houses and into the street. Many zombies took note of their presence and began to converge on them, moaning with crooked arms stretched out before them.

  "Whatever it is, it's damned powerful..." Aiden said, scanning the street from right to left. "Which way, people?"

  They milled around, undecided as the zombies approached.

  "Both ways look the same. I have no idea," Klaus said, chewing his lip.

  "Well, we gotta pick one," Aiden said, heading to his left, his feet slapping the street as he picked up speed. "Come on! They're coming!"

  Trish's wound was still tender and she could not run for very long, stopping every few seconds to grasp her side. Aiden caught up with her and gave her his shoulder as he scanned the area for a place to hide. Zombies were moving in closer and Jasper began to pick them off with his shotgun, most with one shot, some requiring more. Their thrashing bodies fell to the ground, spinning in chaotic circles as they tried to right themselves, legs no longer functional.

  Bullets ricocheted near them as Coach and his gang filed into the street a few hundred yards away.

  "You got nowhere to run, you fuckin' idiots!" Coach shouted with a laugh as his boys took off after their prey.

  "Shit, ya'll. What we gone do? They got us outnumbered ten to one..." said Bo as he helped Bailey with her pack. She was still weak from the blood loss of the day before.

  "Our house is just one street over," she said, pointing ahead of them. "We could take my car. If it's still in the garage."

  "Good enough plan for me," Conor said, jogging beside them. "Lead the way."

  Bullets whizzed past their heads as they rounded a curve in the street, Coach and the boys gaining on them, only slowed by the gathering undead. Bailey led the
m across a lawn and between two houses, looking both ways in case of zombies.

  "There," she said, pointing to a yellow house with a toppled birdbath in the yard. At the other end of her street they could hear an approaching vehicle as it picked up speed, no doubt one of Coach's men. "Hurry! They're coming!"

  The door to her house was smashed, leaning to one side and they raced through into her living room, flat-screen television cracked down the middle and family photos sitting off-kilter upon gore-spattered walls. Bailey did not pause, running quickly down a hall, past two open doorways and into her kitchen. At the island, she stopped and frantically scanned the countertop.

  "Where are my keys? Shit, where are my keys?" she asked.

  Everyone began searching, some the other countertops and some the floor.

  "These them?" Jasper said, standing up with a key ring, pink canister of mace fastened to it.

  "Yes!" Bailey said with wide eyes. "Come on!"

  She wrenched the door open, revealing a two-car garage, holding one mini-van and one red huge truck. She hesitated for a moment, staring at the two vehicles.

  "What are we waiting f-?" Bo started and then saw the shadowy figure move into the light from behind the truck. It let out a long, low moan as its dead eyes caught the light, its mouth opening wide.

  "Ph-phillip?" Bailey whimpered, backing away. "Is that you?"

  "Wait, what! Is that your husband in there?" Conor asked, raising his pistol.

  "No, stop!" Bailey screamed, her shrill voice echoing throughout the garage. "Don't shoot him! Please!"

  The figure moved closer, leaning heavily against the mini-van as it shuffled awkwardly in their direction.

  "Bailey, back up," Aiden said, trying to get a clear shot at the thing. "It's not Phillip anymore. You understand that, right?"

  "No, no..." she stammered. "Phillip..."

  "Bailey, get out of the way!" Klaus screamed, reaching out to grab her by the shoulders.

  The zombie moved into the light, gaunt and disfigured features turning up to gaze at them, the lips drawing back to reveal teeth dripping with a pink foam. Klaus jerked Bailey away into the kitchen as the guns began to bark, driving Phillip's body backward across the concrete floor.