Stay Dead (Book 2): The Dead and The Dying

by Steve Wands

  Laura and Maria came to the door to peer out. A warm light behind them backlighting their thin figures. Tommy, Sandra and Wally stood behind them, but Maria shooed them back into the house as Laura descended the steps to greet them.

  “Took you long enough.”

  “It was worth it,” Walter said. “I take it all went well here?”

  “It was pretty quiet. Pretty lonely too.”

  Walter kissed her on the forehead, “Good to know a little distance still makes the heart grow fonder.”

  “Some things never change. Can I help lug this stuff in?”

  “Knock yourself out. Anything to eat?”

  “I’ll make whatever you and the kids want.”

  “Kids?” Barbara feigned indignation.

  “Just like you’ll always be,” Laura smiled.

  They all grabbed something from the bed of the truck and brought it inside. Taking several more trips before it was all unloaded. Everyone washed their hands while Laura put on a pot of boiling water. Jeff tossed his mother a box of spaghetti as the kids tugged on his shirt for him to come and play with them. They were building forts and playing puzzles.

  Barbara dug out a jar of Ragu and put it on the counter, “I know you hate this stuff ma, but just use it—we don’t have all day to make sauce.”

  “Ragu? It really is the end of the world.”

  “Mom’s got jokes.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

  Walter dried his hands on a rag, “Did we snag any meatballs?”

  “Mama Lucia. Over there.”

  Laura rolled her eyes and gave a big sigh.

  “Oh, come on. Old Mama Lucia isn’t that bad.”

  “With your tastes you’d think I never cooked for you people.”

  After what had turned out to be a rather satisfying dinner, Maria volunteered to help inventory the newly acquired supplies so that Jeff could play with the kids for a while. She, and Barbara started bringing it all downstairs while Walter drank down another glass of water. He was parched, sore, and more tired than he’d likely admit. Laura started to clean up the table and wash the dishes. Jeff handed his mother a plate and headed to the living room.

  Jeff sat down amongst his children. The room was lit by a single lamp that made everything look warm and inviting while casting deep dark shadows in the recesses of the room. He sat down and crawled into a blanket that was tucked under a couch cushion and draped over an end table, effectively making a fort. It was far from the forts he and his sister used to make when they were younger, but Tommy was only just starting into the fort loving years. He was sure that he would guide his younger siblings into fort crafting for years to come and surpass what he did in his youth. Jeff chuckled at his train of thought, but found it comforting to know his mind could still find happy avenues to explore.

  In the midst of playing the fort was torn down several times, and it was rebuilt several times as well. Sandra was getting tired, as could be exhibited when things didn’t go her way and she would break down, having mini tantrums until Jeff could redirect her attention to something else. It would soon be time to put the kids to bed, and Jeff couldn’t help but think of hitting the sheets early too, but he wanted to play with his kids a little longer. It had been a long day and the next few days would be equally as long.

  Scrrrrtch. Scrrriiiittch.

  Jeff’s eyes widened and he looked about the room alertly.

  “What’s that daddy?” Sandra asked, her eyes wide.

  “Probably just a tree hitting the house, kiddo, it’s windy tonight.”

  “Is it zombies, dad?” Tommy asked, “Cause I’m not afraid of them. We can fight them together.”

  “Just the wind, okay. Keep playing. I’m going to see what mommy is doing because it’s time for bed soon okay.”

  “I can be Mutant Man,” Tommy said, “and you can be Cyborg-face!”

  “That sounds like fun, but I’m pretty sure it’s bed time.”

  “Oh, man. Do we have to go to sleep now?”

  “Yes, you know you have to.”

  Scrrrtchhh. Skkkkkrrrrrr.

  Jeff walked back into the kitchen. It was empty and everything was neat and clean. The basement door was open and Jeff went to the stairs.

  “Dad. I think something’s outside. Maria, can you bring the kids up and put them to bed?”

  “Something, or a lot of something?”

  “Just something, I think if there were a lot, we would’ve seen them coming when we were driving back.”

  “Probably,” Walter agreed.

  “I’ll bring them up now,” Maria said, walking passed and touching Jeff’s arm, “be careful, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  Walter turned to his wife and daughter, “Can you two finish this up okay by yourselves?”

  “Don’t be silly, Walter. But please be careful.”

  “I know, I know.”

  ***

  When Jeff left, Tommy stood up and pushed his chest out. “I’m not afraid of zombies.”

  “What’s a sommy?” Sandra asked.

  “Space monsters.”

  “Ohhhhh,” Sandra nodded.

  Tommy walked over to the boarded up window where the scratching sound came from. He put his ear on the board and listened intently. His tiny heartbeat raced as he waited for a sound.

  Sandra stood behind him, hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side, “Well?”

  “Shh. I can’t hear with you talking.”

  “Hmmph.”

  Little Wally walked over wanting to be a part of the fun as well.

  Tommy continued listening but was now more relaxed, as he didn’t hear anything. Maybe his father was right and it was just the wind. He was about to pull away when he could hear something scratch at the board on the other side of the house—Walter and Jeff had boarded up the inside and outside of the first level—his heart seemed to jump into his throat and he bounced back.

  “Sommy?” Sandra asked.

  “I—I think so,” Tommy stammered.

  “What are you kids doing?” Maria asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Maria looked at the window and then looked at the three of them. Tommy looked terrified, Sandra excited, and Wally was in his own world as he headed back to the fort.

  “Well, come on, it’s time for bed. Let’s go.”

  “Five more minutes?”

  28 LOW ON OPTIONS

  (back to top)

  Scott led the convoy toward the Hudson. They were only a few miles away, but Scott doubted that they would be able to get close to the bridge. He could only imagine what hell occurred on it in the first days. He’d seen news footage of roadway congestion on tunnels and bridges as early as what the media had deemed ‘Day One’ and knew that what they would find would be no better. Only by now most of the people and deaders would be gone, or at least they had hoped so. Maybe a few stragglers, but what reason would they have to haunt the bridge?

  Congestion on the road began to build again. More remnants of accidents, more cars, more clutter, more things to get in the way, and more things to avoid.

  “Not looking too good,” Scott said.

  “Think we should try getting onto 287 or 87?” Judy asked.

  “Not sure. It’s the most direct way, but I think the more travelled of roads.”

  “Doesn’t look like we can make it much further.”

  “Let’s pull over and see what the gang thinks.”

  “Scott, between us in here, what do you think we should?”

  “What do you mean? About the Tappan Zee, or…?”

  “Yeah, man, about the bridge about it all. I think you are probably the smartest out of us all--”

  “I wouldn’t say--”

  “Of course you wouldn’t, but I think you are. So I want to know, do you think we’re going about this the right way?”

  “Yes. I think we are. I think moving out of a heavily populated area makes sense. Moving as quickly as we ca
n and putting distance between those places and us also makes sense. I think we would be just as safe heading into upstate New York as opposed to following the coast all the way up to Maine and beyond. I think we are putting ourselves in danger the closer we get to any major city, but that’s all relative. The truth is we don’t know enough to make a smart move. Smarts is only good when there’s information. Till we have enough information the best thing to do is go with our guts and keep doing what we’re doing.”

  “So you think we should try for the bridge, or head toward the Palisades?”

  “Bridge. We’re closer to the bridge. It makes sense to check it out. We don’t have a lot of options so we should keep them open.”

  “See, I told you you were smart.”

  “I think you hit your head too hard.”

  Scott slowed down and came to a stop. The rest of the convoy followed suit. Scott, Judy, and Jon stepped out of the car. The others met them in the middle of the road.

  “What’s up?” Eddie asked.

  “We’re running out of road here. What do you think about giving 287 a go?”

  “Do we have much of a choice?”

  “Not if we want to get into Connecticut. Our best bet is to shoot for the Tappan Zee Bridge.”

  Frankie came out of his stupor after hearing that, “Wait a fucking minute, since when are we hopping onto a fucking bridge?”

  “Since we decided to go north,” Jon-Jon said.

  “If I wanted to kill myself, I would just do it.”

  “Guys, it’s really the best way to do this. Obviously if we get there and it’s fucked we move on and try something else.”

  “What else?” Eddie asked.

  “We either have to cross the Hudson or go around it. Going around it means going into upstate and moving northwest—the opposite direction of where we said we wanted to go. You said you wanted to stick to the coast and move up it quickly, well, this is it.”

  “Any other way to cross the Hudson?”

  “Boat.”

  “That sounds like a better idea already. Does it not?”

  “At first, sure,” Scott conceded, “but consider this; all the things that make the bridge dangerous, are gone, or should be. No one should be left on the bridge. No people. No deaders. Now that doesn’t mean we can just drive up it. I’m willing to bet once we get close enough we’ll have to hoof it.”

  “This keeps getting better,” Frankie looked around incredulously.

  “Abdul, whattya you think. You haven’t said shit.”

  “I’m not opposed to the bridge, but I think the boat sounds like a far better idea. If we are looking for the simplest solution to go north while avoiding the dead, than how is the bridge better? I don’t see these things swimming after us.”

  “Do any of us know how to drive a boat?”

  “I could manage.” Chuck said, raising his hand.

  “Okay, we have a captain. But now we have to find a boat big enough for all of us. Chuck, would you be able to pilot a boat of that size?”

  “Might be a bit rougher of a ride, but yeah.”

  “Okay, and if we can’t find a boat of that size does anyone else know how?”

  “I could run the basics by whoever would want to give it a shot. It’s really not that tough. I think we can definitely get across the Hudson. Taking it into the ocean and up the coast, that’s a different story.”

  “I still think getting to the bridge would be safer than searching the nearby docks. We would be going into populated areas. Let’s at least consider it till we can see what the bridge looks like. We have to go in that direction anyway.”

  “All right, Scott, take us to 287 and get us to the bridge. When we get there we need to know what the hell we’re going to do, so everyone make up your minds by the time we get there and we’ll take a vote.” Eddie said. “Anyone have anything they want to bring up now?”

  “Yes. Carrie, the woman riding with me no longer wishes to ride with me. Is there any room for her elsewhere?”

  “Nope. Why?”

  “She is a horrible woman. She was screaming at the children because they are hungry, Alexis was fighting with her as well, and I slapped her to shut her up.”

  “Tell her she better get along. We can’t afford to fight amongst ourselves,” Scott said, surprised that he’d hit her.

  “Do you have food for the kids?” Eddie asked.

  “They had some snack food, but they need a real meal. They are getting restless and if we are going to foot the bridge, they will need to eat before that. Just on the physicality of the task. I’m not even sure if they’ll be able to do that anyway, especially the youngest, Chris.”

  “Shit, I didn’t even think about that.” Scott said.

  “We can always carry them on our shoulders, right?” Jon asked.

  “If you’re volunteering your shoulders, sure.”

  “Well, it doesn’t change anything now. We still have to get to the bridge. I think we can get there in under an hour, depending on what 287 looks like anyway.”

  29 NANCY NEDERMEYER

  (back to top)

  Jeff and Walter climbed the stairs, leaving Laura and Barbara to finish inventorying and putting away the new supplies.

  “I really hope it’s just one or two.”

  “You’re starting to sound like a crybaby.”

  “Nah, just starting to sound like an old man.”

  “You’ve always sounded like an old man.”

  Walter gave him a light jab in the kidney, “Shut up and get suited up.”

  As Maria escorted the kids upstairs Walter and Jeff suited up to go outside. Walter slung the rifle over his shoulder, but hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. The more he thought about it the more he thought the dead hunted by sound, and with the evening as quiet as it was, the crack of rifle fire might as well be a dinner bell.

  Armed with a baseball bat and a shovel the father and son duo stepped cautiously outside. Jeff switched on his flashlight and held it out in front of him. Jeff led the way around to the side of the house and Walter followed a few paces behind him, clutching the shovel and ready to swing.

  Scrrrrtch. Skkkkrrrrrrrtttchhhh.

  They could hear the scratching, but the couldn’t see anything yet. They made to the next corner of the house. To where the window was in the living room. Jeff ran the flashlight over the body of dead woman as she turned to acknowledge them. Her hands and forearms were covered in dried blood. Her hair was caked to the side of her head and wore a grimace of torn flesh and cracked teeth. Her body was covered in dirt, blood and bruises. Her cellulite jiggled as she staggered toward them.

  “Jesus…”

  “I’ll get her,” Walter said.

  Walter stepped up and away from the house, hoping to draw her to him. Jeff stepped back a bit and she started moving for Walter, her mouth opening like a torn scab. As she stepped closer it dawned on Walter that he knew this woman, or thought he did. She looked a lot like Norman Nedermeyer’s oldest daughter, who had lived across town. The last time he’d seen her was over a year ago at Norman’s wake. His thoughts caused him to hesitate a moment, allowing her to gain a step more than she would have if he had been staying focused. He stepped back, nearly stumbling, but was able to raise the shovel before she grabbed him and knocked her to the ground.

  “You okay, dad?”

  “Fine,” he said, stepping on the woman’s chest, “remember Nedermeyer who passed away not too long ago?”

  “Yeah?”

  Walter put the shovel against her throat as if he were about to break ground, “Well, this is his daughter.” He put his weight down on the blade of the shovel and drove it though her throat. He had to do it a few more times before the head came completely off.

  “Nancy?”

  “That’s her. Nancy Nedermeyer. They had a thing about naming everyone with an ‘N’.”

  “Her brother was Nathan, and they had a dog named Nestle.”

  “Yeah, I remember Nathan from
school—he used to catch a lot of shit for that. Kids made fun out of him all the time. Till he turned into a 6 foot hulk of course.”

  “Well, Nancy, say hello to your father,” Walter said.

  “I hate how they twitch,” Jeff commented, pointing at her hands that looked as if they could be typing something on a keyboard.”

  “It is unsettling.”

  “Let’s finish the walk, and then go back around.”

  “After you.”

  Jeff led the way again, flashlight in hand, and Walter just behind. As they walked past Nancy Nedermeyer her jaw slowly gnashed the air.

  The children were in bed with Maria. They had all put on their pajamas, but there clothes were laid out on the floor in case they needed to get changed and leave the house in a hurry. They were under the covers with a candle on each nightstand, as Maria read them a few small books to help them fall asleep. They each got to pick one of their favorites, and Maria read Wally’s first since he usually fell asleep quickly.

  Laura and Barbara had just finished listing all of the new supplies and had put it all away orderly and kept the stuff that would go bad the soonest towards the front of the shelves. They had estimated that all the new food and beverages could buy them, if used somewhat sparingly, an additional two weeks on top of what they already had.

  “Let’s head upstairs sweetie,” Laura said.

  “I’m ready for bed.”

  “You should get some rest while you can.”

  “Easier said than done. Seems like the more I sleep the more times I wake up with nightmares.”

  “I would suggest you take something, but I guess nowadays that would be a bad idea. We need to be able to get out quickly if we need to, and I doubt your brother would want to carry you over his shoulder while you were snoring.”

  “I don’t snore.”