Life Among The Dead

by Daniel Cotton

  “And, the wheels on the bus go ‘round and ‘round.”

  19

  Carla watches as the Black vehicle drives away. He saved me, she thinks and wonders where the stranger might be heading.

  “Carla? Are you all right?” A timid young voice calls out to her. She ignores the concerned inquiry as she cautiously opens the front door. The falling snow is quickly covering the blood and bodies. She sees the remains of Marko’s head, and has to look away.

  She used to date the black haired psychopath. She can’t believe he just barged in and took her like that. Her brother, Sid, had tried to help her. That bastard punched him in his little nose.

  “Carla, are you OK?” The voice calls again from under the kitchen table. He had hidden after Marko hit him.

  “Shut up.” Is her response to her brother’s concern, she feels bad to be mean at a time like this. “Please.”

  On the stoop she finds the big rifle. A set of keys is on top of a map that is slowly disappearing under the accumulation. Carla takes the items inside.

  The map has been refolded wrong and bulges oddly; the longer flaps have been tucked in where the shorter ones belong. It looks to her as if the man had done it on purpose to highlight a specific region. He had circled New Castle several times. Indicated within the circle is a small oval near the top right. She can tell the man is trying to pinpoint where she should go. A line radiates from the interior circle and leads to hand written words: Ranch. Safe. Good people. Come when you’re ready.

  Sid is now behind his sister as she examines the map. He dabs his nose with a napkin, trying to look over her shoulder.

  “What is it?” He asks.

  “Pack your shit.” She tells him. “We’re leaving in the morning.”

  “Where?” He wants to know as she ushers him to his bedroom.

  “New Castle.”

  “What’s in New Castle?” He stops in his tracks.

  “Why aren’t you packing yet?” She insists.

  Carla re-familiarizes herself with the assault rifle. Marko had taken her to the range on several occasions. He taught her the anatomy of the weapon; safety, bolt, magazine. She looks down the sights and remembers what a horrible shot she was. But, it is a semiautomatic and she knows there will be plenty of ammunition in the truck. I can practice.

  “Will they come back?” Sid asks from his door.

  “No.” she looks at him in his doorway holding a small television. On top of the set is his video game system and collection of games. “Just clothes and your toothbrush.”

  “But, I need this.” He states adamantly.

  “Please, just do what I say.”

  “Fine.” He puts his electronics down and stalks to the bathroom.

  “Grab mine while you’re in there.” She yells to her little brother on her way to her bedroom. She used to share with Sid, but since her mom ran off over a year ago she took hers over. All of her mother’s clothes are in a pile in the corner of the cramped room; a queen-sized bed takes up most of the floor space. Carla grabs handfuls of clothes out of dresser drawers that she can barely open due to the confined accommodations.

  Carla easily took on the role of mother to Sid. She was practically raising the boy even when their mom was around. To make ends meet and feed her brother she waitressed at a little diner during the day, she stripped at night. I’m not going to miss this. She has no idea what this ranch will be like, but it has to be better. It just has to be.

  20

  Dan can barely see the road, and it’s just getting worse. He is moving at a crawl, trying to keep his car going straight. It’s hard with no center line to go by; he has to rely on things along the side of the road. He tries everything to improve his visibility; high beams, low beams, he even attempts no beams. He doesn’t want to stop when he is so close.

  He pushes the odds as far as he dares, even trying to open his door to look down at the ground, but it all looks the same. He can be on the road, or in a field, or on a lake for all he knows.

  The soldier looks at the boy in the back and figures it is for the best to stop. He would hate to crash and risk Jack’s life just for being stubborn. He pulls over to what he thinks should be the shoulder of the road. It doesn’t really matter since traffic is in scarce supply. The headlights are turned off and he sets his hazards to be safe.

  “We have to stop for a while Jack-o-lantern.” Dan tells the boy as he digs through the canvas bags the kid’s mom had packed. The soldier leans into the backseat from between the front backrests to fish out several blankets to cover the child.

  “It’s going to get pretty cold.” Dan plans to stay awake so he can warm the car up every so often. He opts not to go out in this for a smoke. It just isn’t worth it.

  Jack is fed some goopy vegetables before bed. Dan is extra careful not to make a mess. He tells the boy they have to be presentable when they arrive in New Castle tomorrow. Judging from the looks of the storm they aren’t going anywhere until morning, it’s a complete white out.

  Dan reclines his seat and drinks the last two beers, having no qualms about doing so since he isn’t driving anymore. He shivers under a baby blanket that shrouds him from his knees to belly. At least Jack is well bundled, he thinks to himself.

  Outside, the wind is picking up. Every gale rocks the heavy vehicle as if it weighs nothing. He regrets not grabbing a shovel from Ryan’s shed in case he has to dig out in the morning. He sleeps a restless sleep.

  21

  The sun shines brightly through the window as Dan and Jack cruise into New Castle. The town is empty. There isn’t any movement, living or dead. Memories of his youth rush back to the man behind the wheel. He spots a large plaster cow outside of the ice cream place. He always thought that was cool. It’s white with black spots and stands two stories tall.

  The SUV turns onto a road that looks like it should lead them out of town. It actually winds up a series of hills taking any who ride on it to the more expensive homes and properties. Dan’s dad had said the higher you get, the richer the person is. Uncle Bruce lives on the very top of the hill.

  Dan points out wildlife to the boy in the back who looks out the window, smiling like a perfect doll. He is in a great mood today, they both are. Neither one whined at all that morning as they complete the last leg of the journey.

  The ranch looks like it did all those years ago. A post fence surrounds the incredible real estate. In the middle is the brown abode of Uncle Bruce. Just visible from the drive Dan could see the big red barn behind the house. Out front is his uncle, chopping wood.

  It seemed like every time Dan visited as a child they found old Bruce out front chopping wood. It’s like being a kid again. Dan parks the SUV alongside a big blue bus and a white van. I made it, he smiles relishing the unique relief that only comes at a journey’s end.

  Dan has Jack on his hip as he walks towards his uncle. The man stops his chore when he notices the two approaching. He hasn’t aged a day, Dan thinks. He still has thick jet-black hair and isn’t showing the weathering of time people his age should.

  “Aren’t you dead?” Bruce asks.

  “I got better.” Dan replies with a smile.

  “Good to hear. I got work for you to do.” Bruce hands Dan his axe.

  “I was hoping to see Heather and Vincent.”

  “Who?”

  “My wife and son.” Dan knows they must be here since the shuttle is.

  “Sorry to be the one to tell you. They didn’t make it.”

  “What?” Dan can’t believe it. Bruce comes over and takes Jack from him as the soldier falls to his knees.

  “Well, they made it. They just didn’t live.” Bruce clarifies as if it might help ease the tragedy.

  “What happened?” Dan asks, too stunned to cry.

  “What do you think happened?” Bruce answers with a question. “If it’s any consolation, it’s all your fault.”

  “What?” Dan can’t believe he just said that. He feels it in his heart to
be true, who the hell actually tells someone that?

  “If you would have been there, they would still be alive.” Bruce says in pointed fact.

  “Can I see their graves?” Dan is standing again. The axe in his hand becomes a bunch of tiger lilies, Heather’s favorite.

  “Graves? You expect me to do everything. You send me dozens of refugees and expect me to feed, house and entertain them. Now, you have the gall to say I need to bury your dead.”

  Dan’s flowers wilt in his hands, the petals brown around the edges as they droop and fall off one at a time.

  “The worse part about it is that you traded your family in for what? This?” Bruce is palming Jack’s body. The ageless man raps on the boy’s head like he is knocking on a door.

  Dan cringes until the third knock. The sound that is made is a hollow thud. Dan extends his finger to the child and feels him. Plastic? Jack is a doll.

  “No wonder he wasn’t talkative today.” Dan pulls his hand back from the molded synthetic head.

  “It’s a damned good thing she met someone else. That boy needed a good father figure in his life.”

  “She re-married?”

  “What did you expect her to do? You were dead.” Bruce explains to his nephew. Dan can’t believe she got re-married. Life goes on, he supposes, but he can’t help feeling it was a little fast?

  “Can I see the bodies?” Dan asks his uncle who is walking away with the Jack doll.

  “Out back.” Bruce hands Dan a rifle. “You’ll need this. You can have three bullets, and that is it.”

  Dan walks around the house. He can hear a tapping sound. When he looks back he sees Bruce is putting up fence posts using Jack’s head as a mallet.

  “It’s good for something at least.” The man says, toiling away.

  The back yard is even longer than he remembered. At the far end he can see the horse corral. Inside the enclosure he can see several figures shambling around, bumping into one another. He begins the trek and is able to recognize familiar faces as he gets closer. All of them are zombie versions of those he once knew.

  Bill and Lindsey are in there, along with Barbara and her mom. Damien still hangs from his mother’s decaying breast. His weight is causing it to sag to her belly button. Hector is there. Becka. Even that family of four from west 8th is there. Dan can see all the families from the labor and delivery ward along with the two nurses. Sheriff Rexton. Everyone Dan had let down.

  I never sent the Sheriff here? And, I thought that one nurse had stayed behind. Bill shouldn’t be here either. Dan tries to make sense of this, but gives up so he can focus on finding his wife and son.

  “Offer still stands.” Dan turns to see Greg. His wives are behind him in their white robes. “You can borrow one or two of mine.”

  The brides shed their robes one after the other like a Vegas routine. They stand in the sun completely naked.

  “It took me forever to teach them that.” Greg smiles.

  “Why aren’t you a zombie?” Dan asks the confidence man.

  “Duh! I’m a prophet. If you had followed my teachings you would have been saved as well.”

  Dan leaves the man and his wives. He is at the corral, but keeps his distance. Fingertips are brushing his cheeks as he searches among the crowd for his wife. The ground shakes.

  “Hey, which one is she?” A voice yells over a roaring engine. Dan looks up to see the weird janitor, still sitting in his steam shovel. He has the steel claw poised over the mass of corpses.

  “I got this, thanks.” Dan tells the helpful man. The crowd of zombies part down the middle and there she is holding their son in her arms.

  Heather’s eyes look right through Dan as if he isn’t there. Her skin is gray in color and seems to hang on her very slack. Vincent has the same complexion as his mother; he also stares through the soldier.

  Dan is lifting the rifle so he can take aim on his wife, but the first round goes off before he can level the sights. The projectile speeds past her right ear and merely disturbs her hair.

  “I still have two.” He is about to say when the second shot fires and misses his wife entirely. One shot left, he didn’t know which one to put down.

  He puts the barrel into his own mouth, but when the trigger is pulled all he hears is a click, misfire. He takes the steel from between his teeth and it goes off as he checks the breach.

  The dead all moan louder. They reach a volume that drowns out the sound of the steam shovel, and the fornicating of Greg and his many wives. Oddly, Dan can still hear Bruce pounding away with Jack’s made in Taiwan skull.

  The corral collapses and the zombies are on top of the soldier, tearing him to shreds, eating away his flesh.

  22

  The nightmare turns into harsh reality. Cold bright whiteness greets Dan when he awakes. He can see his breath in the car and hears a tapping sound like from his dream. Jack! He screams in his head.

  Dan turns around quickly to see if the boy is all right. He had expected to see him frozen to death since he apparently hadn’t turned the car on at all last night. The boy is looking out the window, happily waving his hands at something.

  Dan touches Jack’s skin. It feels a little cool, but he is still under a mass of blankets. Relief doesn’t come for Dan just yet. He wonders what that tapping is.

  The SUV is entombed in white. The windows are utterly useless with the piled snow that blocks his view. Jack’s window is clear. Dan cranes around to peek out. A man stares in. His eyes are vacant and his face is slightly blue. He bats at the window trying to reach the child inside with hands that are frozen solid. Jack laughs at the snowman and waves.

  “Don’t tease the dead, Jackalope. It’s tacky.” Dan tells him while putting together a bottle for the boy. He thinks he should change him, but wants to get away from Frosty. Dan turns the keys and the engine complains, refusing to start for.

  “Come on.” He coaxes the car. “We can’t sleep in today.”

  After several attempts it finally catches much to Dan’s relief. He wants to let it warm up before they finish their journey. The corpsicle is still at Jack’s window tapping incessantly. Dan fears it might hit the glass just right with his solid hand and break its way in. Above the soldier’s head is a sunroof.

  “This takes me back.” Dan opens the hatch and snow falls down upon him, entering the collar of his shirt. The icy surprise makes him emit a high-pitched yelp. Jack laughs so hard formula comes out through his nose. Dan slowly climbs out with his .38. The frozen threat looks up to see food.

  The food in question is aiming a weapon at its face. Dan fires a round into its head. The bullet doesn’t just enter its skull; it fractures a chunk out of it. The flesh is crystallized from the below zero temperature. The man falls to the ground.

  Dan can see many undead heading his way. They are much slower than normal. Their joints move in rigid motions like they are all doing the robot. The SUV looks like a snow bank with a man stuck in the middle as it sits at an intersection. The soldier can see buildings all around them. A couple of storefronts and a pizza place. He sees something that makes him very happy. He and Jack are parked just twenty feet from a large plaster cow.

  They are in New Castle. If Dan had kept driving last night they would have smashed right into the cow’s front hoof. Dan lights a morning cigarette and basks in the fact they have made it.

  Why couldn’t the outbreak have happened now? He thinks to himself, I could deal with an entire city of these zombies. He watches the dead walk to him at a snail’s pace. He figures the car has warmed enough.

  Dan closes the hatch above him and initiates the wipers. The thick layer of powder is erased from his field of view. He’s glad ice hadn’t formed on the wipers and prays the same will be true for his tires. Slow or not, he doesn’t want to be stuck out here with what looks like hundreds of zombies closing in as slow as death.

  “See the cow, Jack-of-all-trades?” Dan asks the boy. “Wave bye-bye to the moo cow.”

  Dan put
s it in reverse and backs up. He turns right, going off of his limited memory of the town. He hits something solid and the sudden jolt knocks the snow off his back window. An abandoned car is right in the path he tried to turn into.

  Dan moves forward. His tires are spinning on the frictionless surface. He has to remember to take it slow. The crawling SUV bumps into the advancing corpses. They fall like statues; their limbs remain in locked poses until they hit the ground.

  Dan likes the sound they make when he hits them. It isn’t the sickening slap of soft tissue on the metal hood. It’s a solid clink like dropping one heavy stone onto another.

  They are heading down what Dan would call Main Street. They have passed the cow and he knows a filling station lies ahead of them on the right.

  “There it is, Jack knife.” Dan points out the road that leads to Bruce’s place. The soldier hopes this won’t be as treacherous as he is assuming. He adds the road conditions to his list of things to worry about. He hates his list, topping it is still Heather and Vincent.

  The pain in his stomach feels like a bayonet in his belly and the villain who put it there is twisting and turning it inside his body. He starts to bite his bottom lip with anxiety as he winds his way up the hill. His hands can’t decide if they want to tightly grip the wheel like it might fly away, or if they wanted to tap on it anxiously. They tap old tunes Dan knows, but can’t name. His mind is too preoccupied for name that song.

  His brain is running a series of worst-case scenarios and playing ‘what if’. He hates the images he conjures, but can’t help it. He’s scared he will arrive and not see the blue shuttle. The white van is also in his thoughts, but not as important. It feels awful to think in those terms, but it’s true. If given a choice, he would choose Heather and Vincent.