Rotten

by Hardy, Victoria S.

“That smell is never coming out, Moon Man.” Princess climbed into the truck.

  “Can y’all hear it,” I asked, as I pulled into line behind the truck.

  Rebekah nodded. “Not so bad back here and even less with the headphones.”

  “Rotten said once the ipods are charged and you’re listening to music you won’t hear it at all.”

  “I get an ipod,” Sarah sing sang from the back seat. “Monster coming up.”

  The zombie froze in the road about thirty feet from Highland’s car, he passed it and stopped while Rotten shot it from the open window of the truck. Highland turned off the signal, called back on the hand held radio to let us know, and we continued on to the cabin.

  When we pulled up the driveway we saw Sully on the porch talking to a man we didn’t know. We climbed out of the cars slowly and Will approached us from beside the shed. “There’re more survivors, they showed up a couple hours ago.”

  “How’d they get here?” I looked around and didn’t see another car.

  “They came up river in a beat-up canoe. There’s three of them, him,” he nodded his head toward the porch, “his wife and an older woman who they met along the way.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Princess looked up at the man standing on the deck with a beer in hand and turned to Will.

  He shrugged. “He talks a lot.”

  “What’s his story?” Rotten said, unloading the speakers and stereo.

  “His name is Ron, his wife is Beth, and they sent their daughter off to Sunday school on the bus, but she didn’t come back until the next day after she turned into a zombie. He killed her. They stayed at their house for a while and then a couple days ago decided to leave, they had to take the river because they couldn’t get their car through because the roads are filled with cars and zombies, they met up with the other lady along the way. His wife doesn’t talk much, and the other lady, her name is Connie, used to own a dress shop in town.”

  The man waved down at us, and we waved back, I think we were all uncomfortable having new people, but what were we to do? We couldn’t send them back out with the zombies. We entered the house through the downstairs door and Rotten plugged in the ipods to charge and dropped the speakers and stereo off in the office and we all went upstairs together.

  “Did everything go okay?” Mrs. Williams asked, stepping around the counter to hug the girls.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Rebekah said, and Sarah nodded while staring at the woman sitting at the table.

  “As you can see we have guests, that’s Connie in the kitchen and Beth at the table. I hope you don’t mind, Dove and Princess, I let them borrow some of your clothes.”

  “Not at all, we borrowed them ourselves. Nice to meet you.” Princess said, as Mrs. Williams introduced us all.

  The woman glanced up from the table, her eyes held deep, dark circles, and she nodded. “Nice to meet y’all,” she said softly.

  Rebekah looked at the woman in the kitchen. “You own the dress shop? My mom used to go in there.”

  Connie smiled. “I remember her, hard to forget that red hair, you look just like her.”

  “Rebekah looks like Mommy and I look like Daddy.” Sarah climbed onto a barstool.

  “Then your daddy must have had wonderfully curly hair,” Connie said, and smiled.

  “He did, just like mine.” Sarah nodded.

  Sully and the man, Ron, stepped in from the porch and introductions were made again. “Y’all sure lucked out with this place,” Ron said, looking all of us over. “And it looks like the United Nations are here, we got Africa.” He nodded at Moonshine. “Asia,” He smiled at me. “Are you a feather or a dot Indian?” He laughed and smiled at Rotten. “We also got some Irish, I see.” He looked Rebekah up and down. “And we have a lesbian and a Jew.” His eyes moved over Princess’s hair and then focused on Highland’s face.

  There was a very long awkward silence as we looked at each other with wide eyes.

  I realize now as I’m writing this that I haven’t mentioned much of what we look like, I suppose because I don’t think much about it, plus I know what my friends look like, so why describe it? But as Rotten pointed out this may be the only written record of the zombie apocalypse and future generations may be curious about our appearance, so here goes:

  Rotten is tallish and slim, he has long dark hair that he wears in a ponytail or braid most of the time, except when he is on stage, and brown eyes. He usually keeps his facial hair trimmed in some cheesy style that I hate, like a skinny line where his beard should be or that piece of fuzz on his chin. This day, though, he was freshly shaven.

  Highland is the smallest of the guys in both height and weight, he has curly dark hair that always seems a little out of control, and he’s one of those men who seem to have trouble growing facial hair. His eyes are brown and wide and thoughtful, as though his brain never slows down, and he often looks surprised. His nose is sharp, hawkish would be the term if I were writing a novel, and he’s always on the pale side even in the summer.

  Moonshine is tall and muscular; he was the quarterback in high school and played on the baseball team. His eyes are green, his skin is caramel colored, and he wears his dark hair in short braids. And he is extremely good-looking, but not at all conceited. He is also a self-professed token redneck, and laughs when good ole boys accept him as one of their own.

  Will is on the small side, about my height and weight, just inching toward the adolescent growth spurt that will probably see him turn into a tall man. His hair is close cropped, and dark, and his eyes are a cool shade of hazel that are sometimes green and sometimes brown.

  Rebekah is petite, a couple inches shorter than I am, and very thin. She has bright red/orange hair that she wears down to her waist and usually in a braid. Her eyes are green, and nearly translucent, and she has dimples when she smiles.

  Sarah is little, as you know, and has a mop of dark curls that fall to her shoulders. In the sunlight the highlights in her hair are a dark red and I knew people in school who paid a fortune to achieve the same results. Her eyes are a deep cool green that remind me of still swampy waters.

  Princess is my size, about an inch taller, and as you know she used to have dreadlocks, she also has several tattoos, large ones, on her arm, back, and thigh. Her hair is golden blonde like you would imagine a surfer girl to have, and her eyes are also green. Princess is just Princess and no words seem adequate to describe her, she’s eclectic and odd and wise.

  Mrs. Williams is small, curvy, blonde and brown-eyed, and you already know about the fifties vibe she has going on. I imagine that she is in her late forties, but I would never ask and something about her seems ageless. She keeps her hair short and Marilyn Monroe-ish, and wears red lipstick (even in the apocalypse), and she just looks like the type of lady who actually does clean house in pearls and heels.

  I believe I had adequately described Sully so I will move on to myself. I am half-Japanese, and no I can’t speak Japanese and honestly, I know nothing about the culture. My father was an American, his father was the immigrant, and my mother was as much as a southern belle as one could find in our era, and together they were an unlikely and short-lived couple as my dad died when I was two years old. My father’s side of the family did not approve of the marriage and had nothing to do with us, so it was a surprise when my grandfather included me in the will. I am average size, have brown eyes, and black hair that I wear just past my shoulders.

  Now back to the story.

  The man, Ron, who was tall and slim, broke the silence. “I could use another beer if you could spare it, it’s been a long hard week, hasn’t it, Beth?” The woman, her cheeks bright red, nodded her head with her eyes focused on the table.

  Sully stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Anyone else?”

  We all said we wanted one and Sully handed them out. Princess looked at the man, popped open her beer, and took a sip. “So what’s your nationality? If I had to guess I’d say you got some African swimming aro
und in your bloodstream. Don’t you think, Moon Man?”

  Moonshine cracked a painful smile. “You’re probably right, Princess. Let’s go get those chickens put away.”

  “No, ma’am, I am purebred white American,” Ron responded, as we started down the stairs.

  “What the ever-loving fuck?” Princess held it until we stepped outside. “Sorry girls”

  “I don’t blame you,” Rebekah said, and then turned to Sarah. “Don’t say that word.”

  “I know. It’s an adult word.”

  “I look Jewish?” Highland laughed.

  “Well, seems I look like an Indian, what an asshole.” Rotten shook his head. “I didn’t think people like that still existed and hell he’s not even that old, what thirty-five? Forty, tops.”

  “Now you guys know why I was out here when you got back.” Will kicked a rock down the driveway. “He told me I looked Mexican and asked if I was legal. My dad would have said there’s no fixing ignorant trash, no matter the color. Seems to me there’s only two kinds of people left in the world, deadheads and us.”

  “There’s no way that asshole is staying here, no f….” Princess took a deep breath. “No way.”

  “Dude.” Moonshine held up his fist for a bump. “I don’t think I’ve been sized up so fast in my life, and with some of the rednecks I’ve hung out with that’s saying a lot.”

  Sully stepped out, shaking his head, and shut the door firmly behind him. “He’s taking a shower.” He sighed.

  “He’s not staying here,” Princess said.

  “I agree. He’s some work, isn’t he? And can he talk, some of the most ridiculous crass bullshit I’ve ever heard, I’m worn out. And it’s only been a couple hours?” Sully looked at Will.

  “Yep, about two hours,” Will said.

  “Longest two hours of my life. Wayne, why don’t we ride up to Mrs. Simpson’s place and get that Cadillac. We’ll give it to them and give them some food and send them on their way. I don’t mind if that Connie woman stays, she’s seems to be good company for your mother, but I’m with you about Ron and Beth, they need to go.”

  “Good idea, let’s go.” Highland turned to the sedan.

  As they pulled out of the driveway Mrs. Williams stepped outside.

  “Look, he’s already running us all out of our own place,” Will said.

  Mrs. Williams sighed. “I’m sorry about that kids.”

  “It is not your fault,” Rotten said. “He can’t stay here.”

  She nodded. “He is definitely a disruptive force we don’t need. I would like to ask Connie to stay, though.”

  “She seems fine to me, but not that a-hole.” Princess winked at Sarah.

  “He’s like a caricature, everything about him is over the top and exaggerated, and his poor wife barely speaks, and usually looks to him for permission before she does. I feel sorry for her. Connie met up with them on the way and I assume she felt it was safer to travel in a group than alone. Where did Sully and Wayne head off to?”

  “They went to get them a car so we can send them on their way,” Rotten said. “And the sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.”

  “We’ll tell them at dinner and I’ll try to get a moment alone with Connie and ask if she wants to stay. Some of you come back in with me please, we need some distraction.”

  We looked at each other, none of us wanting to volunteer, and finally I spoke. “I’ll go.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Will said. “I’ll break out a board game or something.”

  “I like games,” Sarah said.

  “We’ll go, too,” Rebekah said and we followed Mrs. Williams back into the house.

  When we reached the top of the stairs Ron was just shutting the refrigerator door with a fresh beer in his hand, Connie was stirring the stew at the stove, and Beth was still sitting at the table. “Y’all got anymore beer?”

  “If we do they’re for all of us.” Princess appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “No need to be rude, little lady.”

  “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Princess sat on the couch beside Will as he set up a checkerboard.

  Ron walked over to the recliner where Will spent his nights and sat down, watching us. “Where’re you from, Dawn.”

  “Her name is Dove, like the bird,” Sarah said.

  “Don’t back talk me, girl.”

  “She’s not back talking, she’s correcting your mistake, her name is Dove,” Princess said.

  “I’m from Freemont,” I said.

  “No, I mean originally.”

  “Originally, I’m from Freemont.” I knew what he was asking, but I wanted to irritate him. “And originally my mom was from Freemont and my dad was from Atlanta.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll just call you China girl,” he sneered.

  “Suit yourself,” I said.

  “Maybe we’ll just call you redneck, then,” Princess said.

  “What? Is she your girlfriend?” He smiled at us and I felt dirty.

  “Dove, could you come help me in the kitchen?” Mrs. Williams interrupted.

  “Sure thing.” I was grateful for the reprieve, but I was thinking she should have called Princess. I could tell by the hard set of my best friend’s jaw she was about to lose it.

  “I am so sorry,” Connie whispered, as I stepped around the counter.

  I glanced over at Beth. I couldn’t really tell how old she was, but I thought she was younger than Ron. She had dark medium length hair pulled back in a pony tail and she bordered on that line that some women spend their life fighting of not thin, but not quite fat. She sat at the table in the same position as she had earlier and stared down at the wood grain. I looked back at Connie and raised my brows.

  “She’s just lost her daughter,” Connie whispered and cut her eyes in Ron’s direction. “I think she had it rough before that.” Connie was older, in her sixties, and had short gray hair, a soft face that hadn’t wrinkled, and was on the chubby side.

  “You don’t say.” I was nearly amazed how one person could change the energy of the room, suddenly we were whispering and hiding, suddenly we all felt threatened. It seemed in the zombie apocalypse the enemy changed daily, if it wasn’t zombies or all-powerful gods and their enforcers - the men in black- it was ignorant rednecks spewing destructive hate.

  I almost squealed in relief when Rotten and Moonshine stepped into the room. “So has the one-legged zombie shown up yet?” Moonshine sat on a barstool facing Ron across the room.

  “Not yet.” Will looked up from the checkerboard. “I guess it takes a while to drag yourself from Arlington.”

  “So where’re y’all headed next?” Rotten stood at the glass, looking out into the yard, with his rifle still in hand. I suppose I should mention we were all armed, well everyone except Sarah, we had taken to having a gun within reach at all times. We’d seen enough zombie movies to understand that our survival depended on us being quick thinking and ready.

  “I figure we landed where we was headed.” Ron stood up. “Why would we want to leave? Y’all got everything we need.”

  “We’re not a hotel and this house is full, there’s plenty of empty houses around.” Princess settled on a barstool beside Moonshine.

  “No, I’m pretty sure we’re staying here, it’s rough out there and there sure as hell ain’t no cold beer.” He laughed.

  Sully stepped in the room, followed by Highland, and said, “We’ve got you a car and it has a full tank of gas.” He held up the keys.

  “I was just explaining to the kids that we was staying, we don’t need the car.”

  “You’re not welcome here, Ron.” Mrs. Williams stepped around the counter. “We’ve created a family here and you just don’t fit in, it’s not personal. And as Princess said, there are plenty of empty houses these days.”

  His cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “So the united nations here have voted me off the island?”

  “If that’s the way you want to see it,
then yes, we would like you to go.” Sully stepped over to stand beside Mrs. Williams.

  Beth lifted her head and looked around at us as though she was waking from a very deep and long sleep. “I understand.”

  “Sit down, woman, we ain’t leaving. Look folks, I’m sorry if I offended anyone, but I believe in calling a spade a spade.” He smiled at Moonshine. “I’m not politically correct and I’m not used to diversity, I know in the city it’s all about diversity, but we’s country out here. So if I see a chink I call it a chink, my grandfather fought in WWII so I got a right to call it as I see it. That don’t mean we can’t get along.”

  “You ignorant son of a bitch,” Rotten said, turning away from the glass.