Zombified

by Adam Gallardo

  It only took about an hour to install the hardware I’d bought to the crawl space’s trapdoor. We tried it out a few times and it seemed to work perfectly.

  After that, I showered and ate. Then came the long, fidgety wait for it to be time to leave for the party. I tried reading, listening to music, watching TV, surfing the web. None of it held my interest. Phil was no help, either. I eventually decided to leave him alone because he was in some sort of Zen trance with his drawing. I knew it annoyed him every time I interrupted him.

  Gene and Diane finally came home, and I leaped up to help them unload the car. Anything to take my mind off the waiting. They’d bought a small forest’s worth of plants, along with potting soil and fertilizer. It was very domestic.

  “Thanks, Courtney,” Diane said. “If only we might get someone else to be helpful.”

  “Don’t be hard on Phil,” I said. “He’s lost in his drawings.” I declined to mention anything about the letter he’d gotten.

  When we got back into the house, I pointed to the rug that covered the trapdoor and said, “I did something to the crawl space door, and I hope you won’t mind.”

  “What’d you do?” Gene asked. He craned his neck to look, even though I hadn’t pulled the rug back.

  I bent down to do that, then stopped.

  “I hope you won’t think I’m weird or paranoid,” I said, “but I’ve been thinking about how my dad died, and I don’t want the same thing to, you know . . .”

  They looked at each other, then turned back at me with identical strained smiles.

  “Oh, sweetie, we’d never think that of you!” Diane said, and Gene nodded vigorously.

  “Okay,” I said. I pulled back the rug. They looked underwhelmed.

  To be honest, there wasn’t much to see. Just the tops of three flush-head bolts.

  “Give me a second,” I said.

  A small ring was screwed into the top of the trapdoor and sat in a little recess. I pried the ring up, and pulled up the door—which was made of plywood a couple of inches thick. On the underside of the door, each bolt attached to a short length of chain secured by a big washer and nut. The three chains were joined together with another bolt and nut. It formed a sort of cradle that you were able to slip your hand through to hold the door closed from inside the crawl space.

  I explained all of this, then got into the space. Standing on the hard-packed dirt floor, the floor of the kitchen was still at waist level. “Try and open the door,” I said to Gene, then I closed the door behind me, sat on the ground, and grabbed on to the chain.

  After a few seconds, I felt resistance on the chain, but the door barely budged at all. All I had to do was let my weight hang from the chain and there was no way Gene was able to open the door without using tools. No matter how smart and coordinated zombies got, I doubted they’d ever become little undead handymen.

  I felt the individual links biting into the flesh of my palm.

  “Okay,” I yelled at Gene. “I’m going to let go now.”

  I waited a second, then did like I said. I pushed the door open and stood up.

  “You couldn’t open it, right?” I asked even though I knew the answer.

  “There was no way to get leverage,” Gene said. He was smiling at me like I was a kid who had just spelled her first word.

  “Right now,” I said, “the only problem I can see is that holding on to the chain hurts your hand. I can rig something else up, but for now, you might try to keep some work gloves handy. You know, just in case.”

  “I think it’s great just like it is, Courtney,” Gene said. “I only hope we never have to use it.”

  “Me, too,” I said. There was no way I wanted to tell them they might be using it sooner than they’d like without sounding like a loon.

  “It’s very thoughtful of you,” Diane said, and she gave me a hug.

  “Thanks,” I said. “It was nothing.” I suddenly felt really tired. Maybe it was from having installed the hardware onto the door, but it felt more emotional somehow.

  “I think I’m going to go take a nap or something,” I said.

  “You want to be fresh for tonight,” Diane said as I started walking out of the kitchen. I stopped, startled.

  “Phil said you two were going to some sort of party,” she said. “Have a good rest.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I will.

  I closed the bedroom door behind me, closed the drapes, and lay down on top of the covers. After a few seconds, I stripped off my socks and jeans, then lay back down again. Finally, I got under the covers. I just couldn’t get comfortable. Wasn’t that the worst? You have the chance to take a nap and your body just rebels. I was just about to admit defeat and get up when sleep finally crashed down on me like an iron anvil in a Warner Brothers cartoon.

  I stood on the shore of the lake where the kegger was going to be several hours from now. It was night, and moonless. The only light came from the cabin behind me, which was burning out of control. Water lapped up on the beach even though there was no wind. Was something out in the lake?

  I heard footsteps behind me on the sand.

  “Hi, Sherri,” I said. I pulled my sweatshirt closer around myself, even though it was a warm night.

  “You realize it was a year ago?” she asked. She stepped up beside me. “Exactly one year ago that you were here before. Of course, I never got to be here in person.”

  “What are you here to tell me this time?” I asked. “’Cause I have to tell you, I’m getting really tired of the Ghost of Zombies Future thing.”

  “Technically,” she said, “I’d be the Ghost of Zombies Past.” She grinned at me.

  I refused to play along.

  “Fine, be that way,” she said and rolled her eyes. “You could always get so pissy. No, Courtney,” she went on, “I think I’m just here to be here. To see you. No matter what happens tonight, I don’t think I’m coming back for any more visits.”

  I didn’t know how I felt about that. On the one hand, scary dreams starring your dead best friend kind of sucked. On the other, I’d miss her if she was truly going to be gone forever.

  “You’re just part of my imagination, right?” I asked her. “Or my subconscious?”

  She shrugged. “Would you believe me if I said anything different?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Then let’s just say that.”

  We stood watching the water for a while. I knew it was only a dream, but it felt so comforting just to stand with my friend on the beach. The house burning behind us gave the scene a lot of atmosphere.

  “Say,” I said, “I’ve been wondering. How come Willie never came back to say hi?”

  “I don’t think he was smart enough to find a way back,” she said. Then she covered her mouth and looked both horrified and really pleased with herself. “Oh, God, that was terrible!”

  We both laughed.

  “God,” she said, “I loved that kid, but, you know.”

  “I’ve missed this,” I said. “Standing around, bullshitting.”

  “Me, too,” she said. “Hey, maybe tonight you’ll screw the pooch and we’ll get to hang together more often!”

  “Bitch,” I said, but I wasn’t mad. It was just her way. What I did do was reach over and grab her hand. She didn’t pull hers away or accuse me of being gay or anything; she just let me hold on to her.

  “No offense,” I said, “but I don’t plan on seeing you again for a long time.”

  “That’s cool, too,” she said. “I can wait.”

  And we just stood like that as the house fire behind us started to wind down.

  A knock on my door brought me back to the real world.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  Phil’s voice came through the door. “It’s time to get ready to go.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Give me a minute.”

  I heard him walk away and I burrowed my face into my pillow. It was wet with tears.

  A half hour later, we had Cody in the
car and we were driving through Silverton on the way to the kegger. We didn’t say much; everyone seemed wrapped up in their own heads. I was trying to shake the feeling that there was something I hadn’t thought of. That I was going to get a lot of people killed—myself included. Well, I told myself, if I died, I wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of knowing I’d been wrong. I didn’t really believe it, though.

  Phil suggested we listen to music.

  “Oh, yeah!” I said. “I forgot that I brought this to listen to.” I pulled a CD out of my sweatshirt pocket and handed it over.

  “Lucinda Williams?” he asked.

  “Put it in,” I said. “You’ll like it. And if you don’t, don’t say anything.”

  Lucinda’s desperate voice sang out as we drove, and I suddenly didn’t feel so worried. We lived in a world where she’d been born and been allowed to make music. Things weren’t all that bad, I thought.

  “So I decided I’m going to Chemeketa Community College in the fall,” Cody said. “I’m going to do the Occupation Skills program, then see about maybe going to a four-year state school or just getting a job after.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  “That’s good, Cody,” I said.

  “Yeah, I decided to sign up after you talked about making plans past the other night,” he said. “I figured I’d better get on the stick and figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life.”

  “It’s good to have plans,” I said. “And to realize that we’ll probably make it past tonight.”

  I looked at Phil. He didn’t say anything, but he shook his head slightly. So he hadn’t told Cody about the letter, either. I guess tomorrow was going to be a surprise for everyone but Phil and me.

  We made a few more attempts at small talk, but every time our talking died out before it even started. Eventually we gave up and drove on in silence. It was silent except for the music, anyway. I watched the trees and fields slide by outside the window.

  Sherri had been right. In my dream, she’d been right. It had been exactly a year since I’d been out to the cabin and helped repel a zombie attack. It made a kind of sense that I was doing it again, but I promised myself there’d be no third time.

  We eventually came to a drive cut into the surrounding forest, a steel tube gate blocking the way. A couple of kids I barely recognized, a white kid and a Latino, stood at the gate, rifles hanging off their shoulders. Phil pulled up and braked long enough for them to open the gate.

  “Are you guys juniors?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” the Latino kid said. “Dillon said we could come to the party if we stood guard at the gate for a while.”

  I recognized them then. They were both on the varsity football team even though they were juniors. The fact that they were here tonight probably meant that they’d be planning the thing next year. That was how it worked, I thought. Jock kings handing down the responsibility for the kegger to their hand-chosen little princes. It made a majestic sort of sense when you thought about it.

  “Just follow the drive all the way up to the cabin,” the Latino kid told us. I didn’t bother to tell him I’d already been here a few times.

  “Thanks,” Phil said. He drove on past the gate.

  It took a few minutes before we came to a large clearing, maybe a couple of acres of lawn that was bordered by forests on three sides and a beach on the fourth. The cabin we’d burned down a year ago had been rebuilt, or replaced. I wasn’t able to tell if it was the same as the old one. The building was dark; none of us would be going inside it tonight.

  Another gun-toting junior stopped us and told us to pull the car down by the beach. We were lucky to get there early. Once the spots on the beach and by the house were taken, everyone else was going to have to park along the road and walk up.

  A bunch of other cars and trucks were already parked near the beach. They were arranged in two semicircles. A couple of dozen yards separated the two lines of cars. We parked in the outer ring. We left our weapons in the car, but we also popped the trunk so we’d be able to get at everything easily.

  Michael and Dillon and Zander stood in the back of a huge pickup that had been lifted to ridiculous heights. Three plastic trash cans took up most of the truck’s bed, each one filled with ice and a keg. That seemed like a lot of beer to me, but I guess there’d be a few people showing up. I wondered how much time they’d have to drink before things got interesting.

  “Hey, dudes,” Zander called out to us. “Want a beer?”

  “Actually, yes,” I said. Phil gave me a look and I told him I wanted to have one now and then I’d stay dry. “I want to be completely sober later, but I also want to have a beer at my senior kegger.”

  He and Cody also asked for one.

  The three bros in the truck took a lot of joy in pouring the beers.

  “Here you go,” Mike said. “Eat, drink, and be merry.”

  “For later we kick some zombie ass,” Dillon chimed in and they all laughed.

  I wondered how much they’d already had and whether or not that was going to be a problem. Seemed a little too late to worry about it now.

  As we sipped our beers, we watched some kids stacking wood for a bonfire. The beer tasted good. They’d actually gotten something quality rather than just settling for Budweiser or some other crap. I approved. Not that they’d care.

  “I like this place,” Cody said. “It’d be cool to come here when we weren’t worried about hordes of the undead, you know?”

  “Yeah,” said Phil. “Maybe I’ll have a place like this one day and we can all hang out together.”

  Cody gave him a look that I wasn’t able to interpret. “Sure,” he said. “That’ll be cool.”

  “Where’s Hannah?” I asked.

  “She’ll be here soon,” he said. “When we were in the car, she texted me to let me know that she and her friends were on the way. They needed to stop and buy ammo before they headed out of town.”

  “Well, it’s good they’re coming prepared,” I said. “She seems like a good one.”

  “She is,” he said.

  Phil pointed down the beach. “Hey, there’s Lance and Sarah. I’m going to go say hi. Want to come?”

  “Nah,” Cody said. “I’m going to wait for Hannah and them.”

  “Me, too,” I said. Cody shot me a look, but he didn’t say anything.

  One of the cars parked near the beach started to play some god-awful music. I think it was Kid Rock. A couple of kids gave one of those whoop/yells that’s really just a cry for help.

  After Phil walked away, I took a step closer to Cody.

  “What’s up?” I asked him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  “Don’t play dumb with me,” I said. “I saw that look you had when Phil talked about hanging out in the future. He may have seen it, too, but he doesn’t know to be concerned about it.”

  Cody sighed and took a long drink of his beer.

  “Do you really think there’s going to be a lot of hanging out between us in the future, Courtney?” he asked. “You guys are leaving, headed off to wherever doctors and famous freaking cartoon guys head off to. I’ll be here. I’ll go to Chemeketa and then, if I’m lucky, I’ll get a job at some factory. The potato chip plant if I’m really lucky. When will we hang out?”

  I didn’t know what to say, but I felt sick to my stomach. Maybe the beer wasn’t as good as I first thought.

  “And it’s cool,” he said. “It’s fine. I want Phil to go off and be successful. You, too. We give each other a lot of shit, but I’ll be happy if you go away and become a success. Go win the doctor equivalent of the Stanley Cup, why don’t you?”

  We each sipped our beers.

  “Well,” I said, “I for one hope you do get a job at the potato chip factory. Then you can send me bags of those sea salt and pepper kind.”

  He laughed.

  “See,” he said, “you’re okay. I’ll be fine here.” It sounded like he was trying t
o convince himself.

  “Hey, baby!” Hannah and her crew came walking toward us. She had an assault rifle—I think it was a Smith and Wesson—tricked out with a scope strapped across her chest, but the rifle was done up in pink and black camouflage. Pink. And black. I bit back vomit.

  She walked right up to Cody, smacking her gum like a cud, and laid a big ol’ kiss on him. It was like they were using their tongues to check each other for cavities. Her friends looked as disgusted as I felt.

  “Hey, girl,” she said to me when she finally came up for air.

  “Hello, female,” I said, and she laughed.

  Cody looked dazed by it all. Yeah, I guessed he really was going to be okay.

  “I am so buzzed about tonight,” she said. “I’ve been waiting to put this to some use, you know?” She slapped the rifle that was doing such wonky things to her boobs.

  “I’m glad you’re ready,” I said. I nodded my head in the general direction that my boyfriend had headed. “I’m going to go find Phil.”

  As I walked up the stretch of sand, I noticed that the semicircles had been filled, and so had the spaces up by the cabin. A steady stream of people were now walking up. Things would be in full swing soon. Soon.

  I felt all giddy with anticipation, but afraid, too. It felt like Christmas when Leatherface was handing out presents.

  Phil found me watching the people arrive. He sidled up next to me and put his arm around my waist. It felt good, dispelling all thoughts of nominally religious holidays and horror movie bad guys.

  “How were Lance and Sarah?” I asked.

  “It’s going to start getting dark soon,” he said.

  “Their relationship?” I asked. “Gee, and I thought they were really doing well.”

  “Ha,” Phil said. He didn’t laugh; he actually said the word “ha.”

  “I mean the sun will go away soon and it will become dark,” he said. “Outside. Where we are now.”

  “I guess you’re right,” I said. I snuggled in closer to him for a second. “I wish the sun would never go down. Maybe that’d keep the zombies from coming.”

  “Maybe, but then we’d never be done with this.”