by Perrin Briar
Susan took the vials out and wrapped them in a plastic package. She pressed a button on the side. It inflated, like a beach ball. Susan approached the window and looked out.
They were surrounded by medium-height buildings. There were no zombies on the ground, save for the large pile the soldiers had created when firing out of the window earlier to cause a distraction. She dropped the cure-ball out the window. She watched it bounce and took note of where it stopped.
“How are we going to get out of here?” Richard said.
“The same way as the cure,” Susan said.
Richard looked at Susan like she was mad.
“Are you crazy?” he said. “We’re on the fifth floor! We’ll die!”
“There’s a mound of undead down there,” Susan said. “From when the soldiers fired out the windows earlier. We’ll aim for that.”
Richard looked down.
“You’re crazy!” he repeated.
“It’s the window or the undead,” Susan said.
The zombies burst forward, their fourth wave of attack. Taylor had removed herself from her position, backing up her comrades, fighting hand to hand. But she was unsteady. Her leg got trapped in an undead’s skull. She fell over. She reached out with her hands to catch herself, but an undead fell on her, and before Taylor could respond, the undead tore a chunk out of her arm.
Taylor screamed, a guttural growl, and seized the undead by the hair and pulled him off. The other undead’s heads turned at the sound of Taylor’s blood splattering across the floor. They hissed and descended.
Steve ran forward to meet them, filling the gap between hunters and prey. He swung at the undead. The soldiers were outnumbered ten to one in the room, and this was only the undead present. There were now thousands inside the building.
Susan, Richard and Phil fired at the undead with their pistols, aiming at their heads, but hitting moving targets was exceptionally difficult.
“Now can I use them?” Jericho said, holding up the grenades.
Steve nodded.
“About frickin’ time,” Jericho said.
He pulled the pins and threw them at the undead.
“Get back!” Jericho shouted.
The explosion eviscerated the zombies, blowing them into meaty chunks. The survivors were knocked to the ground by the impact shockwaves, and were sprayed with undead blood.
“Eugh!” Steve said. “That’s why we shouldn’t let off grenades in here.”
“It ruined your hair?” Jericho said. “That cleared the old pipes though, ay?”
Groans emitted through the red mist as the undead staggered to their feet. Some had lost their legs, and dragged themselves across the floor.
“How do you like it, huh?” Taylor said to the undead.
“Now what?” Jericho said.
“Now we get out of here,” Susan said.
“Get out?” Jericho said. “How?”
“We jump,” Susan said.
Susan turned and approached the window. The night was dark, the surrounding area illuminated by the building’s light.
“We have to hurry,” Susan said. “They’re regrouping.”
They all stood at the window and looked down.
“This is a really bad idea,” Jericho said.
They looked back at the blood-red mist as it settled. Meaty chunks adorned the walls and floor. A slaughterhouse. Fresh undead were making their way up the stairs.
Jericho shrugged.
“But there are worse ways to die, I guess,” he said.
Richard took Susan’s hand. He smiled thinly.
They jumped.
11:36pm
A rabbit stood in the shade of a mound of dead bodies. Blood dripped off the index finger of a protruding hand. The rabbit wiggled its nose at it. The finger twitched. The rabbit started and ran a short distance. The rabbit shuffled its ears and rubbed them with a wet paw.
A hand reached out from the pile of broken bodies toward the rabbit. It was slow, moving outside the rabbit’s peripheral vision. It stretched a little farther… A few more inches, and…
Crunch!
The arm was crushed, snapping under the weight of something that fell on top of it.
Something slid down the mound and flopped to the concrete on the other side. The rabbit turned and ran away, disappearing into the night.
“Susan?” Richard said.
“Hm?” Susan said.
“Are we still alive?” Richard said.
“I think so,” Susan said.
They rolled off the pile of bodies, snapped bones crunching beneath them. They got to their feet. The undead grasped at their clothes, but their grip was weak and easily brushed off.
Susan and Richard looked at the mound of bodies before them. Susan hadn’t realized how much death Richard’s life had cost. The grotesque hands kept reaching up and grasping for them, their heads invisible beneath the mound of bodies.
Crunch!
Crunch!
Crunch!
Crunch!
Phil and the soldiers rolled to their feet, batting off the hands that grabbed at them.
“I’m never doing that again,” Jericho said.
Steve helped Taylor up. She was pale with loss of blood, but alive. Phil had a limp.
They looked up at the fifth floor windows. The undead crowded around it, peering down. Some forgotten instinct prevented them from jumping.
“We might have survived,” Steve said, “but we’re all definitely infected.”
“But they didn’t bite us,” Jericho said.
“They don’t need to,” Susan said. “We’d just need to inhale their blood.”
“Well, that’s nice,” Jericho said.
Susan bent down to pick up the cure in its protective beach ball casing. She punctured it and handed a vial to each of the survivors.
“Drink it when you’re somewhere safe,” Susan said. “It’ll cure you of the virus. But be careful. You can get infected again.”
“Get infected again?” Jericho said. “I thought we were working on a cure?”
“This is a cure,” Susan said. “But it doesn’t make you immune.”
Susan handed an extra vial to Steve and kept a spare for herself.
“Get to a military base and have them make more,” Susan said. “The world’s counting on you.”
“Who are you going to use your extra vial on?” Steve said.
“An old friend,” Susan said.
Uhhhhhhhhhhhh.
The trail of undead ran up the street, toward the research center. It was incredible, as if the whole city’s population had been heading directly for them. No doubt the grenades had gotten their attention.
“So this is goodbye,” Steve said.
Susan and Steve hugged.
“Try not to lose any more limbs while I’m gone,” Susan said.
“I’ll try not to,” Steve said. “Keep your phone charged. I’ll call you once we find the base.”
“All right,” Susan said.
She shook Taylor and Jericho’s hands.
“It’s been real,” Jericho said.
“Real fun,” Susan said.
Susan hugged Phil.
“You can come with us, if you want,” she said.
“Someone needs to set the cure up,” Phil said. “You know what the military’s like.”
“Thank you,” Susan said. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“You just take care of yourself,” Phil said. “And Amy.”
He nodded at Richard affably.
“Dick,” he said.
Steve and Jericho braced Taylor’s weight between them as Phil scouted ahead. Susan couldn’t help but feel a little sad. But she needed to get to Amy. She was relying on her.
11:48pm
Richard poked his head out from behind the tree and eyed the car at the end of the street. It was a beaten-up old roadster. It was once his pride and joy, but now it looked like it belonged in the mise-en-scene o
f a post-apocalyptic movie.
Richard cast a look over his shoulder and creeped down the street. He pulled the passenger door open, eyes alert, scrubbing the surrounding area. He unlocked the passenger door for Susan. Susan got in. The passenger foot well was covered with crap, as always. Richard shut the door and crossed to the driver’s side. He got in and inserted his keys in the ignition. He said a soft prayer under his breath and then turned the key.
“Come on baby,” he said.
The engine stirred, shuddered, and then purred.
“Yes!” Richard said.
He smiled over at Susan. He saw her hangdog expression and the smile faded from his face. He put the car into gear and pulled out.
Susan looked up at the fifth floor window of the Charlotte Research Center as they passed. The undead stood at the window, looking down at them. They reached for the moving vehicle with clawed hands, and in her mind she could hear their unearthly groans.
Susan was numb at the thought of Amy protected only by a flimsy bathroom door, and the number of times it would take before it gave under Rosario’s weight.
Richard drove the way he always did – slow, calm and steady. Susan held the two vials in her hands, fearful they might break in her pocket.
“Can’t you drive any faster?” Susan said. “We need to get there as soon as possible.”
“The speed limit’s only… Oh yeah,” Richard said, realizing what he was saying.
He pressed the gas pedal and they sped up down the highway. The city was aflame, the buildings decimated. The brave new world the virus had carved out for them. It was a wasteland filled with disgusting creatures. Occasionally milky white eyes reflected off the car’s headlights as they cut through the darkness.
Even if they got the cure out to the world and managed to make enough of it to save everyone, there was still going to be a crater in the population that would take generations to replace. The scars on the buildings and landmarks could be fixed, but the damage to the confidence of a once-proud species would never be the same again. In the future, every cough or sneeze would be treated with the utmost fear and suspicion. Susan didn’t like to think what that entailed for the species.
But Susan and Richard kept going. They had little choice. They swerved around the abandoned cars and motorcycles until they entered the curtain of darkness that had been placed over the highway, the world and the future.
12:03am
As they rounded the gravel driveway the house emerged from behind a large unshorn hedge like something from a dream. The shutters on the windows were wide open. If there were any undead they could have just knocked. The glass of the windows was old and flimsy and wouldn’t have stood up to much battering.
Susan was already pushing her door open before the car came to a complete stop. She ran to the door.
“Susan…” Richard said, but his voice was lost as Susan ran into the house.
“Amy?” Susan said as she smacked the front door open. “Amy?”
The entrance hall was empty, save for the cluttered lumps of umbrellas and dirty boots half-cloaked in shadow.
Susan stopped, gasping, a hand clamping over her mouth when she saw the bathroom door hanging open. Richard put his hands on her shoulders. Susan shrugged him off and staggered forward, collapsing before the door, on her knees.
The cracked eggshell tiles were caked with red. A kid’s arms and legs lay on the floor like tossed matchsticks. So small and tiny, the fingers like small sausages. Susan leaned her head against the door frame. They were too late. Zombie Rosario had somehow gotten the door open and killed them. Killed the kids.
“No…” Susan said. “No…”
Tears spilled down her face, hot and hard. Her throat closed up, like it was trying to suffocate her.
A whimper from upstairs. Susan would have recognized it anywhere.
“Amy!” Susan cried.
She rushed up the stairs, skidding on the woodchips on the landing. Rosario was curled up beside the door, her teeth wrapped around the doorknob of Amy’s room. She couldn’t have been there long – the door would have given way without much effort.
Rosario’s cold dead eyes turned on Susan. She rose to her feet. Susan had never noticed how tall she was before. Despite everything she stood to lose, Susan froze. She couldn’t harm Rosario. Not in a million years. She was her mother in all but name, and now she was headed right for her. Susan wrapped her arms over her head.
Richard embraced Rosario, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug. She squirmed in his grip. Her weight gave her extra strength. She turned, forcing Richard around.
Susan took a vial out of her pocket. She would thrust it into Rosario’s mouth so it ran down her throat. It would cure her, but would she ever recover from what she’d done to her grandson?
“Hurry!” Richard said as Rosario opened her mouth wide to bite him.
Rosario pushed against Richard. His back smacked against the wall. There was the soft crunch of glass. Susan recognized it immediately. The glass vial in Richard’s pocket had been broken.
Now the two vials in Susan’s possession were the last they had. They could cure Rosario and either Susan or Richard, not both. Steve was out looking for the army base, but who knew how long that might take? But if Susan didn’t cure Rosario she would be stuck like this forever, or at least until they could get the cure to her – if they ever could. Susan was torn. Richard evidently did not share the sentiment.
He roared, crouched down, and threw his bodyweight forward, pushing Rosario toward the bannister. His intention had been to push her over it, but she was so heavy, she smashed right through and landed head-first on the hard wood floor below.
She lay there, unmoving, her leg performing the jitterbug. A sliver of blood seeped from one side of her head. She was dead. Really dead.
Susan’s face contorted with the pain of it. The unnecessary death. But what other choice did they have? Suddenly a number of alternatives flooded her mind, alternatives that would no longer help Rosario. They could have put her in another room, reinforced the door and windows so she couldn’t escape, feeding her until they got the cure from the army and administered it to her. But now she was a beaten bloody mess on the floor below. Dead.
A whimper behind Susan pulled her from the depths of her despair. She turned on her heel and pushed Amy’s door open. Susan let out a squeal.
12:16am
There Amy was, in her crib-bed. They’d had it specially made so she’d feel safe. Her solar system mobile had been installed. She always slept better with it. Susan was overcome with Rosario’s kindness.
“Amy,” Susan said in a soft voice that crackled around the edges. “Mommy and Daddy are here, baby. See? We’re both here. And we’re going to take you away from here. Yes, we are. To somewhere safe.”
Susan picked her up and held her tight.
Richard stepped forward, a smile on his face. He lay eyes on Amy, their baby, the culmination of their love for each other… And his eyes fell, his brows drooped, and he looked to the side, disgusted, hating what he and Susan had given birth to. It matched the same expression he’d worn when he had first laid eyes on her. Complete disappointment.
Susan stepped in front of him, blocking Amy’s view, using her back as a shield. Susan smiled at Amy, brushing her hair with her hand.
Richard stepped aside.
“I can’t do this,” he said. “I just can’t.”
“Everyone she’ll ever meet will look at her the way you do,” Susan said. “Of all the people, we’re the ones who should accept her for who she is, not judge her, not be disappointed in her. But you… You can’t. You can’t let her be who she is.”
“I can’t take care of her,” Richard said. “Not now, not before. If that makes me a bad person, I’m sorry. But you can’t protect her now either. The virus will spread. It will get here, and those monsters will kill us all. We need to be upwardly mobile. We need to be able to move at a moment’s notice.”
; Susan shook her head.
“She’s our baby!” she said.
Waves of powerful emotions roiled and bubbled inside Susan, knowing Richard was right - he was always logical - but it lacked the heart a mother had for her child. Susan loved Amy and could never let her go.
“Come with me,” Richard said. “Now. Come with me.”
“No,” Susan said. “I can’t.”
Her voice lacked conviction.
“You’ll die,” Richard said. “She’ll die. Come with me. Leave her here. It’ll be a greater kindness than what she’ll turn into. Come with me.”
Tears spilled down Susan’s cheeks, forming clean tracks through the dirt. Richard held Susan in his arms, holding her tight, the way she used to like when they first started dating. He wasn’t big or strong or muscular, but she felt safe in his embrace. He rocked her back and forth, and she calmed, the tears stopping. She wiped her face dry and pushed away from Richard. It was a weak gesture.
“Come with me,” Richard said, earnest and heartfelt. “We’ll have more kids when we find somewhere safe. Please.”
She could see her future now, with Richard. Traveling for months, dodging the undead, fighting them when they had to, searching and scratching a living. And then, when they were far enough away, when they were totally lost and with nowhere else to go, they would stumble upon somewhere safe. A community.
They would be valuable members. They knew enough medicine to be doctors, enough engineering to build complex devices to make life a little easier for everyone. But they wouldn’t let Amy in. Not a dependent who had nothing to offer. They would settle, and they would have children, healthy babies that clung to them, relied on them. Richard would be happy with them, because they were normal, acceptable. In the early days of their relationship that was what Susan had dreamed of, in her heart of hearts.
But in the voice of any new children she’d have, she would hear the pain-filled cries of Amy, their firstborn, who failed to meet the standards of the New World. She could not survive. There was no hope for her. But there was for Susan, and for Richard.