Existing Dead

by Lyle Perez-Tinics

  “I’m only asking this one more time. Who the hell are you?” Kyle asked as Victor hurried toward them. Victor grabbed his gun and pointed at the man as well. It seemed he didn’t know what else to do but to follow Kyle’s lead.

  “Name’s Chet, Chet Wallace. Please put the weapons down. I’m unarmed and won’t try anything, I swear,” he said in an English accent.

  Kyle took a few steps back to let the man through the door. “You got him?” Kyle asked Victor.

  “If he makes any sudden movements, I’ll fire. You can count on that,” Victor answered.

  Kyle lowered the Glock and walked to the metal trash can. He couldn’t bear the cold any longer. He needed to get the fire going soon. He honestly thought that he was already running a fever. Using the bolt cutters, he cut the chain and dragged the steel can to the middle of the room. There were a lot of discarded envelopes and cardboard left in the trash can. That should get the fire started. He drenched a wad of paper with the lighter fluid and put it into the striker. It took only two strikes for it to catch fire. He let the paper fall out of the striker’s cup and land in the trash can. The paper instantly caught, sending flames and black smoke high into the air. Luckily, the post office ceiling was nearly two stories high. The warmth of the fire was instantly felt by everyone in the room.

  There was one thing that Kyle hadn’t thought of. There was no place for the smoke to escape. Could being that cold really obstruct his judgment? The smoke would continue to build in the room until they were engulfed in it. Kyle walked toward the door, passing Chet and propping the door open. The air began to suck the smoke outside. It was a temporary fix, but a necessary one.

  Kyle turned toward Chet and Victor. “What were you doing outside?”

  “Well I was making my way to Las Vegas because that’s where everyone is saying the safe zone is. I started having engine trouble as soon as the rain got bad. I had to find someplace to hold up till the rain stopped, and then I’d see what was wrong with my car. I saw you when you first pulled up. I was hiding outside under a small opening where the roof extends out. When you came back out I wanted to get your attention.” Chet spoke with that same British accent as before, but Kyle could have sworn that his voice changed a bit. It was lower than before. Could the cold have changed his tone?

  “Yeah, you scared the shit out of me. I almost shot you,” Kyle added.

  “Yes, I apologize for that. It was a bit rude of me to startle you. I wanted you to get a good look at my face. I didn’t want you to think I was one of those creatures outside. Mind if I get closer to the fire? I’m drenched and very cold.”

  Kyle nodded. “You can put the gun down now Victor.” The boy did what he was told and backed toward the fire.

  “Much obliged,” Chet said as he walked closer to the warmth of the flames. “I don’t mean to meddle, but em, why are you in your knickers?” he asked rubbing his hands together in the universal gesture to get warm.

  “We just took a rain shower. My clothes are drying and I gave Victor my only spares. I’m stuck like this until something dries.”

  “I see,” Chet said taking off the trench coat and setting it on the ground.

  “Where are you guys headed?” Chet asked.

  “We’ll have more time to chat later. We need to go get more stuff to burn. This paper will only last a few more minutes,” Kyle said.

  He grabbed the Winchester that sat upright on a wall and walked to the store’s door. It was locked. Kyle repeatedly used the butt of the gun as a ram. The lock slowly broke free. He stepped inside with the shotgun ready to fire at anything that moved. The counter was to his left, and in the middle of the room stood an island of shipping boxes the post office tries to sell.

  “Victor, grab those and take them to the fire,” Kyle said.

  The boy rushed into the room and grabbed as much as he could carry, and then walked them back to the fire. On the far right corner there was a dried-up potted tree. It was only a bit shorter than the ceiling. It was perfect to burn. Kyle was thankful that no one had maintained the plant and that it was dry and dead.

  “Chet, can you get that plant over there and take it to the fire?” Kyle asked.

  “Yes, of course. Anything to keep that fire going,” Chet responded, taking the orders well. He leaned the plant down to fit it through the door and dragged it back to the fire.

  Kyle walked further into the room and jumped over the counter. Once on the other side, he saw mountains of priority shipping boxes, all different shapes and sizes. There were also a few wooden chairs that would be easy to break and burn. He began stacking boxes on the counter as Victor came back and began taking them to the fire. He tossed the wooden chairs over the counter and let them fall to the ground. They were flimsy, and they dismantled on contact. Chet came back into the room and began picking up the pieces.

  Kyle wanted to explore the building for more useful items but thought against it. The building was pitch-black farther in. The fire did a good job illuminating the room, but that was it. They had enough cardboard to burn for a few hours. Kyle jumped back over the counter and began walking back to the fire.

  A loud moan erupted from behind the counter. He quickly turned with the Winchester drawn. An Existing Dead stood right where Kyle had been standing only moments before. The female monster was wearing a postal service carrier uniform. Her long dark hair was tied back into a pony tail, exposing her neck, which had a large hole on the left side. Loose skin flapped to the side of the wound. She had probably been bitten on her mail route and had come back to headquarters to find some help. The creature looked at Kyle with wild and hungry eyes. It tried to walk toward him, but the counter was in the way. She just continued to struggle, trying to climb the counter and head toward Kyle. She continuously made loud gasping noises as if she were trying to remember how to breathe.

  Victor ran into the room and saw the zombie behind the counter. “Holy shit, shoot it!” he yelled.

  “Don’t worry, it can’t get to us. It needs to climb over that counter, and it doesn’t look like it has the brain power to do that,” Kyle answered.

  “But still, you should get rid of it. It might call some of its friends.” As Victor said that the zombie let out another terrifying moan. “You see? The moan is like a calling thing. I heard them do it a lot when I was at the gas station.”

  Kyle had never thought about that.

  “Is everything all right?” Chet asked from the other room. He had been breaking apart the palm tree to use as firewood, as well as throwing pieces of broken chair into the flames.

  “Everything is fine. There’s just one of them that’s stuck behind the counter,” Kyle answered. Chet didn’t respond; he just continued breaking up the tree.

  Kyle pumped the shotgun and pulled the trigger. The blast hit the creature dead center in the face, completely obliterating the head, spreading the nearby area with gore. The body fell back as everything went silent.

  “Ahhh,” Victor yelled as he held his hands over his ears. Shooting a high-powered shotgun in an enclosed area could shatter the ear drums of anyone. Kyle could hear nothing but a faint hum. He shook his head a few times until his hearing returned. Victor no longer had his hands over his ears. His arms hung by his sides.

  “Remember,” Kyle said to Victor, “never fire a gun in an enclosed area unless you have to.”

  Victor nodded, shaking his head. They walked back into the other room, where Chet was finally putting the tree into the fire. Kyle swung the door behind them closed and walked toward the fire, bare-chested and shoeless.

  Chapter Twelve

  They huddled around the fire. The storm continued outside, blowing the trees to the point of breaking. Kyle’s clothes were finally dry enough to put on. Holding them closer to the fire had really helped. With his clothes on, he felt much more secure.

  A few large stacks of boxes, wood and other burnable items were placed behind them. There was enough fuel to last a few hours if they managed it properl
y. Throwing in a few more sticks, wood and cardboard as needed would do the trick. They also used the chain that had been holding the trash can to wrap around the door to keep the wind from closing it. Leaving the door open was not safe, but it was more dangerous to keep the smoke building inside the room. They would suffocate faster than an Existing Dead could eat a body.

  “So, you’re headed to Vegas, huh?” Kyle asked Chet.

  “Yes. What about you two?” he answered, shoving a couple of mixed nuts into his mouth. He chewed vigorously, like he hadn’t eaten in a long time.

  “We don’t have plans to go. I’m headed to California to find an ex-girlfriend and my buddy, Victor, here, well, he wants to go home so I’m taking him,” Kyle said, looking at Victor, who was drifting into a nap. It looked like the effects of the power tablet were finally wearing off.

  “What did you do before all this, Kyle?”

  “I was a welder, more or less a construction worker. I had a wife and kid. I lost them yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I lost my family as well. I’m all that’s left. How are you coping with it?”

  “It’s hard. I blame myself mostly. I try not to think about it. I got that kid over there to keep me company.” Kyle pointed toward Victor, who was now asleep and snoring faintly. Kyle was happy to see that the boy felt comfortable enough to sleep, even knowing that there were dead creatures wandering around outside.

  “Yes, it is hard, but I’ve found a way of coping with it.”

  “What’s that?” Kyle asked.

  “It’s nothing, really. Just some personal things.”

  Kyle backed away from the conversation. Life was different now. He knew that people had to cope with emotions differently than they had before. What he does to deal with the situation is his business.

  “I haven’t been able to get a good night’s rest in a long time,” Kyle said, breaking the stillness in the room.

  Chet reached into his pants pocket and brought out some green gel tablets encased in a plastic bottle. He tossed the container over to Kyle, who examined the pills. There were no words indicating what the tablets were, only numbers.

  “What is it?” Kyle asked.

  Chet smirked and said, “Nyquil. Take two of those and it will give you a good night’s rest. Believe me, there’s been times where I’ve wanted to stay awake, but they put me to sleep.”

  Kyle looked at the tablet again. Although it was tempting, he didn’t think it was wise for him to fall into a deep sleep. The post office might not be as secure as he thought, and he’d never be able to forgive himself if something happened to Victor.

  “Nah, I can’t take them. I’ll need to stay alert in case something comes in through the door.”

  Before Kyle could toss the plastic bottle back to Chet, the man said, “I’ll go ahead and take first watch. I’ve been asleep most of the day and I’m not tired. It’s okay; if anything comes in I’ll wake you up right away.”

  Kyle still wasn’t sure. How well did he know Chet? Well enough to trust him to take watch? Chet hadn’t given Kyle a reason to why he might be untrustworthy. He’s been nothing but helpful the entire time he’s been here. So far.

  “All right, but I’ll just take one,” Kyle said finally. He opened the bottle and took out one tablet. He closed the lid and tossed it back to Chet. Kyle put it into his mouth and took a large drink of water.

  “Before it kicks in, I’m going to find more stuff to burn. I’ll be back,” Chet said. He stood up and walked through the open door that led into the front office.

  Kyle made a makeshift pillow out of Victor’s still-damp clothes. He reached for his shotgun and laid it down next to him. He wanted it within reach in case there was a rude awakening. Victor was still asleep across from him. All the kid wanted to do was to go home. It would have been an easy task if the world was normal.

  Victor began to grunt in his sleep. Kyle laughed as he closed his eyes. He felt the medicine and exhaustion taking effect. His eyes quickly opened as Chet came stumbling into the room with more cardboard boxes and a wooden chair. Kyle noticed him and closed his eyes again. The last thing Kyle remembered hearing was the rain thrashing outside and the sound of snapping wood.

  *

  Kyle’s eyes fluttered open, looking at the ceiling. He didn’t know where he was. Slowly raising his head, everything suddenly came to him. He was in the room that he shared with Mary. He looked over to her side of the bed. It was empty, but he could smell the coconut scent she liked to wear. Kyle rolled out of bed and put his feet onto the ground. His slippers were there, waiting for him.

  “Kyle?” Mary called out from outside the room. “Are you up?”

  “Yeah,” he said, still a bit disoriented.

  Was Kyle only dreaming about the dead or was he dreaming now? He pinched himself and it hurt. He actually felt the pain. He slapped himself on the face a few times and felt every last bit of it.

  It was all a dream, he thought as he slipped his slippers on. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt relieved that it had all been a dream. Any second now he would get up and find his son, Eddie. When he did, he would give the boy a tight squeeze and a kiss. Most importantly he’d promise his boy that he’d never leave his side, ever again. Not for his mother, not even for Jasmine.

  Kyle stood to his feet with a huge smile on his face.

  “Mary?” he called out.

  There was no reply. He walked through the open door and turned down the hall toward the staircase. He walked down the stairs slowly, carefully stepping over Eddie’s toys that were scattered on the steps. Normally this kind of carelessness would have angered Kyle, but after waking up form that terrible nightmare, nothing would take his happiness away from him.

  “Eddie?” Kyle called out.

  “In the kitchen,” Mary hollered.

  Kyle quickly ran for the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon were so potent in the air he could literally taste them. He walked through the doorway, and sitting near the small round table was Eddie. Light shone in through a small rectangle window above the sink. The blinds over the sliding glass door were still closed. The boy was eating a large slice of bacon. Kyle was delighted. He ran, almost skipping, toward Eddie, and gave him a huge hug, causing the boy to drop his bacon.

  Eddie laughed and said, “Dad, I’m trying to eat.”

  Mary turned from the stove with a pan in her hand. “Sit down, Kyle. I’ll get your breakfast.”

  Kyle let go of Eddie, still smiling. He took a seat at his usual spot. There was already a plate in front of him. Mary walked over with the skillet and served three sunny-side-up eggs onto Kyle’s plate. She walked back to the stove and using tongs, she grabbed a few strips of bacon. She put them on Kyle’s plate.

  “It smells wonderful, thank you,” he said grabbing a fork and digging in.

  Two slices of bread popped out of the toaster. Mary took them out and placed them on Kyle’s dish. He put eggs and bacon between the two slices and made a toast sandwich. He bit into it with much delight. Yolk from the eggs dripped out of the sandwich and onto his fingers.

  There was a coffee pot in the middle of the table. Kyle poured himself a cup of the delicious black liquid. He stirred in cream and two sugar cubes. He smelled the coffee before taking a drink. The liquid burned his mouth, but it was manageable.

  Mary put eggs and bacon onto her plate and brought it to the table. She sat on the third empty chair in the breakfast nook.

  Mary and Eddie didn’t speak. They just continued eating their food and never looked up.

  Kyle finished his food and took the dirty dish to the sink. He rinsed it out and left it in the sink to be washed later.

  “Thanks for the wonderful breakfast, Mary,” Kyle said as he walked back to the table. “It’s Saturday right? What do you want to do today, Sport?”

  Eddie didn’t reply. He didn’t even move. He stayed staring into his plate like he was in a trance.

  “Ed
die? Did you hear me, bud?” Eddie didn’t respond.

  Mary stopped eating and looked at Kyle. She had a ghostly expression on her face as she said, “Eddie can’t answer you, Kyle.”

  “Why not?” Kyle asked, squinting his face in confusion.

  “Don’t you remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  “Eddie can’t talk. He can’t go anywhere.”

  “What do you mean? I just heard him talking.”

  Mary’s tone quickly changed from her normal voice to a low drone that echoed, “Eddie can’t talk anymore, he has no face … he is dead.”

  Sorrow filled Kyle’s body. He quickly went to face Eddie. The boy raised his head to reveal the large gaping hole that now replaced his face. Kyle stood to his feet and backed away from the table, knocking over the chair he was sitting on.

  “Don’t you remember, Kyle? I’m dead, too,” Mary said.

  Kyle’s gaze met Mary’s. A large hole appeared at the top of her head. Tears made from blood began to fall down from her eyes. Bits of bone and gore rested on top of her head near the open wound.

  “You did this to us, Kyle,” she said.

  Eddie and Mary both stood up from the table. She extended her hand out toward Eddie. The faceless boy swung his arm around the area until it locked on to Mary’s. She walked around the table, guiding Eddie like a seeing-eye dog. They stood a few feet in front of Kyle now.

  His heart raced a thousand beats per minute. Standing in front of him was his family, his dead family. He hadn’t awakened from a nightmare; this was the nightmare. Mary and Eddie slowly walked toward Kyle.

  “You made us like this. You could have just stayed with us and everything would have been fine. But you wanted to be selfish,” Mary said.

  “Stay back,” Kyle said, pinned up against a wall.

  “Don’t let this happen to Victor and Jasmine,” Mary said.

  Hugging the wall, Kyle edged over toward the sliding glass door. Mary and Eddie quickly followed. Kyle pulled the chain on the blinds. They moved out of the way, revealing the backyard. The sky was red and every house around the area was on fire. Smoke and soot blew into the air from the flames. The grass was no longer green, but as dry and dead as Kyle’s wife and son.