Never Say Die: Stories of The Zombie Apocalypse
Page 15
“Don’t do that!” I jumped back up to my feet and moved into the line of sight. Mr. Bauman took another step back, the weapon now trained on me.
We stayed this way for a few more moments before Mr. Bauman finally dropped the gun. “What’s the use? You’ll be dead soon anyway.”
I didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t surprise me that he’d said it. He never was one for compliments.
“I can’t do this without her.” He motioned to the grave. “Do what you will once I’m gone.” He raised the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.
I stood frozen in place as an explosion of gore erupted from the side of his head and his body collapsed to the dewy grass, motionless. I was stunned, unable to move. Had it been the fact that someone had just taken their own life in front of me? I didn’t think it was Mr. Bauman’s death, especially not since I’d planned on killing him myself. No, it was something else entirely about the act was bothering me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I couldn’t look away, I couldn’t take my eyes off the dead body of my former boss laying before me.
My thoughts eventually went back to suicide. I thought about all those pills I’d taken and how I’d woken up, disappointed that my eyes were open to face another miserable day. I thought long and hard about all those pills. There was no way that I should have woken up from that. But I did.
I looked down at my hands and studied them in the light of the rising sun. I really looked at them. The skin was dry and cracked, the veins in my hands brighter and more prominent in contrast to my pale, dull skin. My eyes moved up my arms and the color was unchanging, the skin just as dull there as anywhere else. I hadn’t had the courage, or even the desire, to look myself in the eyes after swallowing an entire bottle of Xanax. I think it was shame mostly.
I entered Mr. Bauman’s house through the sliding glass door and stopped in front of a wall-mounted mirror in the room. I finally looked myself in the eye. I thought about how I’d sat on that ledge atop the lawyers’ offices and how I’d made the choice to continue on. Suicide wasn’t an option for me anymore. I had already made my choice. I killed myself and somehow got the chance to change my mind the second time around. Who else could say that? I might not have been the same Trevor, but I was okay with that, the world wasn’t the same either.
I heard movement off to my left and turned toward the door, Tim was there now. His face was different, the look about him no longer said dumb-shit but rather inferred that it was, in fact, me who was the dumb-shit.
“Took you long enough,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
I’m sure the look on my face was priceless.
“Have you been able to talk this entire time?” I asked him, folding my arms over my chest.
“No, it comes back after you’re dead long enough, though. I figured I’d keep up the dumb zombie act until you realized what you were. After all the shit you told me, you know, back at the law offices, I didn’t think it was right that I be the one to break the news.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Tim. I really appreciate that.”
Tim had become a good friend, the first real friend I’d had in a long time.
“Don’t mention it.” He actually smiled — I knew he had it in him. “Now, about those beans on that dude’s stove…” he raised his eyebrows and made a face.
“Yeah, about that.” I laughed. “I guess it makes sense now.”
Tim cocked his head and motioned for me to follow. “Come on, man, you’ve got two more names on that list and I’m thinking you’re probably ready to eat.”
I thought of the last two names as I followed Tim back to the truck. I was ready.
***
I sat in the truck with Tim for a while once we’d pulled up in front of Christie’s house. I know she saw the truck. I know Bryan did too. They’d both peeked out the front window, two scared faces trying to be slick, thinking that we didn’t see. To a regular human that wasn’t starving for flesh, yeah, they might have remained hidden, but I finally realized why my sense of smell and eyesight were suddenly so damn good. They didn’t stand a chance at hiding from me.
“I’m gonna take a wild guess here,” Tim said, glancing over at me. “Ex-girlfriend?”
“Correction,” I replied. “Cheating ex-girlfriend. Oh, and ex-best friend.”
“Ouch.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes and I thought of all the years Christie and I had wasted on one another. I never got a direct answer out of her, I never knew how long she’d been cheating on me. I wouldn’t ask again, I didn’t want to know. All I wanted to know right now was how much they were about to be pissing in their pants.
I gave Tim a nod and we approached the house. I saw movement again in the window and quickened my pace, I wanted to get to the door before either of them had a chance to spot Tim. I might have still looked human enough, but Tim, the guy was way past the point of presentable.
I knocked on the door.
“Guys? It’s me, Trevor.”
Almost immediately after I’d announced myself I heard frantic footsteps headed for the front door. It sounded like there was some attempt to keep Christie from opening the door. Both of them were arguing so loudly; they clearly weren’t familiar with the term “inside voice.”
The door swung open and I was face to face with my ex. Her big, beautiful, brown eyes went wide at the sight of me, her arms, just a moment ago, had been open, ready to embrace me, but she took a step back once the smell of me hit her.
“Trevor?” she squeaked out. “What happened to you?”
It was a pretty honest question. I looked like shit, I smelled like shit, I’d been on a killing spree with a zombie since I woke up dead yesterday morning. I could have given her an honest answer, but seeing her there like that, it made me feel something again. My stomach fluttered and my fingertips tingled as I stood there in Christie’s doorway looking her up and down.
Bryan stepped into the foyer behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back toward him. He had an axe in his hand that he was attempting to hide. He glared at me, reinforcing that thing I was feeling with metaphorical steel beams.
Hunger.
I like to think, from the moment I’d woken up dead, that I’d held on to a major part of my humanity — ya know, minus the whole kill list thing — but I think for the most part I’d been pretty civil. With Christie and Bryan, though, I finally decided to let the animal out.
I was on top of Christie in no time, and let me tell you, for the first time since I’d met her, I really tasted her. I tore into her velvet flesh and relished in her agonizing screams; her blood was like chocolate syrup and caramel at the same time, and every other piece of her was as blissful as hot, melted butter. I knew Bryan was behind me with that axe, I knew he’d try and kill me, but Christie tasted so good that the only thing I found myself caring about was how much more of her I could fit into my mouth at once.
I heard Tim laugh, and then I heard the axe drop. While I was busy devouring my ex’s body parts, Tim kicked Bryan to the floor beside us and held him down.
“Jealous yet?” I asked Bryan, spitting bits of Christie’s muscle and fat as I spoke.
Her body twitched on the floor and tiny wheezes and grunts escaped her lips as she slowly died. Bryan sobbed and screamed, begging for mercy. I broke Christie’s neck, ensuring she didn’t turn. I had no desire to waste any time in my new life on her.
Or Bryan.
I gave Tim a signal and he eased up on Bryan, giving me some space to do my thing. I stuck my hand deep inside the gaping wound in Christie’s stomach and smeared it across Bryan’s face, laughing as his voice grew hoarse from all the screaming.
“You probably taste like dog shit,” I said to him, and his eyes went wide just before I snapped his neck.
I didn’t want to overeat.
Tim put out a hand and helped me off the floor. He looked me up and down and chuckled.
“You ought to wash your face up.�
��
I smiled and gave him a thumbs up, heading for the sink.
***
The end of the world came and went quickly. Zombies were a lot smarter than the humans gave us credit for. Shit, I didn’t even know I was one for an entire day. Tim was right, as time passed, the zombies got even smarter, almost getting back to their old selves, except there weren’t any of the trivialities that came with being human. We all just wanted the same thing: to eat in peace.
In my old life, I would have never believed that I could have been so lucky to find a friend like Tim. I would have never believed that I didn’t need a woman, or a better job, or any other worthless validation to feel like I was special. I would have never believed that I, Trevor Fink, deserved a second chance at life. But somehow I got one, and as I passed by my fellow zombies, Tim at my side, I knew I’d finally found somewhere to belong.
Not among the living, not among the dead, but that happy medium somewhere in between.
—The End—
About The Author
Stevie Kopas was born and raised in Perth Amboy, New Jersey. She is a gamer, a writer, and an apocalypse enthusiast. Stevie will never turn down a good cup of coffee and might even be a bit of a caffeine addict.
Stevie is the author of The Breadwinner Trilogy, a post-apocalyptic, survival adventure in Northwest Florida. It begins with book one, The Breadwinner, continues with book two, Haven, and ends with book three, All Good Things.
In addition to her debut trilogy, Stevie is the author of short stories featured in the At Hell’s Gates Anthology Horror Series. The story of Patient 63, found in this book, was originally published in Volume 2 of At Hell’s Gates: Origins of Evil. At Hell’s Gates is a charity anthology and all proceeds go to The Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund.
Stevie is also the Managing Editor of the horror and heavy metal website, Horror Metal Sounds. Offline, she is a telecommunications professional and currently resides in Panama City Beach, FL.
To stay up to date on all thing Stevie Kopas, visit her official website and blog at http://someonereadthis.com and sign up for her mailing list. Follow Stevie on Twitter @ApacoTaco and become a fan on Facebook at http://facebook.com/thebreadwinnertrilogy.
Table of Contents
Jack
Gordon & Elena
Patient 63
Rosie
Trevor