When The Light Goes Out

by Jack Thompson

  "Under better circumstances, kiddo."

  She most definitely was older then me. That or she had a set of brass ones like no teenager I'd ever met. We may have been Americans, but in the small community, we knew better then to disrespect people. Especially the people we'd have to be in contact with everyday. I figured a foreigner would have known a bit better too.

  But maybe that was just a stereotype.

  Perhaps some foreigners didn't give a flaming bowel about respect. Lord knows there's a bad apple in every corner of the world.

  But who knew?

  Who honestly knew?

  "Let's get inside, and clean you up Excel."

  "Clean Oh dear! What happened?" Terror took me as Cathy's hand tightened about the handle of the gun. "Has Excel been" "No!"

  "No. Excel hasn't been bitten, Catherine." Dustin spoke my denial, seconds after I did, smiling reassuringly at the girl, pulling me toward the closed doors of the college. "Then where'd those nasty wounds come from? Oh, why didn't I see them earlier?!"

  "Excel was riding a bike, and crashed!" He said, voice brimming with authority, as a means of explanation. "It was rather funny to watch you flailing around like a mad woman when you fell, Sweets. Sorry to say." Dustin grinned at me, winking as we got closer to the doors. Those doors looked so, so terribly inviting, but at the same time I loathed them. We were approaching the beginning of my brothers death. My brother. The only guy I loved anywhere close to the love I held for my father. It was the damned schools fault. Maybe it was the food that stuff always seemed a bit lethal. Or.. I don't know. Something.

  He'd still be my brother.

  He wouldn't have gotten sick if we didn't go to school, if we just stayed home he would have been okay. If he'd been willing to go to the doctor when I asked, then he would have been okay. He wouldn't have been God knows where, doing God knows what, to God knows who. He wouldn't have had his teeth going through his lip, or flesh hanging off of is face. He would have been fine.

  He would have been alive. He'd still be my brother.

  He wasn't my brother anymore.

  Dammit.

  Dammit!

  Again, I had to raise hands to wipe my eyes. I was like a leaky faucet. My eyes kept going, I could feel my nose start to go. I'd the urge to curse as we entered the building, but it was always hard for me to curse around those older then me. Significantly at least. Dustin was decidedly that, if his title as "daddy" somewhere in the world didn't say it clear enough.

  "Excel?!"

  My eyes shot up at the voice, but I saw little more then a black and silver football jersey. I felt myself cuddled, but didn't know why, or by who. I really didn't. The way my name was spoken seemed vaguely familiar, but nothing came to mind. I was sure I'd end up slapping my self in a rather violent "DUH!" formation once I was capable of sight again, but until then I was undeniably confused.

  "Excel! Oh, thank God you're okay" "Ian?"

  "Excel..? You're okay, right? Don't you remember me?" "Yes, I remember you."

  "Then why do you sound so confused." "I didn't know you liked football."

  Nervous laughter broke out in the back of the room. Unfortunately, my face was being held fast, so I didn't quite get a chance to see who it was. Not immediately at least. I had to suffer through a chorus of 'Thank God's, 'Are you sure's, and 'Oh dear's, before finally finally my face was released.

  The boy looked like the proverbial thing the dog dragged in. It didn't matter how nice his hair was normally, currently the honey brown locks were caked in blood that I was quite sure wasn't even his own. He had a single cut on his face, not very deep but enough to make me wince for him. He looked tired, with bags under his eyes, but I was sure I wasn't in any better condition.

  "Jeeze Ian, what happened to you?"

  "Same thing that happened to you, Excel. Karma came back to bite me in the ass." The poor choice of words got everyone in the room to let out a sharp breath. "So to speak."

  I smiled all the same, wrapping the boy in a quick hug before I looked behind him. There were a dozen or so kids that I recognized from my classes English to math. There were two teachers that I recognized off of the top of my head, and the post man. Wounds were apparent on them all, but only Professor Floyd, the English guru, looked anywhere close to death. He was missing a section of face, and covering it frantically with a bit of cloth pointless with the amount of blood pouring from it.

  "Professor.." I felt the air catch in the throat when he looked up at me. The very movement looked painful, and his groan proved it to be. I had to restrain myself from cowering behind Ian. I liked Mr. Floyd. He was the only Professor, I referred to as Professor by choice, really. I didn't want him to die. "What"

  "He wasn't bitten, don't worry!" Cathy said, cheerful as I'd ever heard someone speak about a man missing a quarter his face. The way that the very same mans eyes narrowed almost got me to laugh.

  "I wasn't asking if he'd been bitten, Cathy. I was asking what happened, and if he was okay." "BOO!"

  I jumped as the sound was barked from behind me, clinging onto Ian as tightly as I could, while every person in the room laughed at my expense. Needless to say it was Dustin, out of breath, who startled me onto the chess player turned football mascot. The green eyed man looked extremely stupid, waving a stark white box with a bright red cross on it in, the air. His eyes sparkled with pride. I raised a lip at him.

  "That was a dirty trick!"

  "Can't say it didn't lighten the mood!"

  "Lightened their mood maybe.." I grumbled, stabbing my finger toward the group of people sitting at the far wall. "Not mine. Scared me" "Out of your pants?"

  "No, Ian. I was actually going to say out of my mind, thank you for your interpretation of the situation though."

  Idly, I was amazed at how talkative I became as soon as I got around people I knew. One boy, that I didn't know outside of math class, loosened my tongue like nothing else. I was beginning to annoy myself with the way I was blathering on. Like a loon. Like an idiot. Like I was scared out of my mind.

  I was scared out of my mind.

  Who in their right mind wouldn't be?

  "Good to see you got your voice back kiddo." Dustin grinned at me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder as he moved to the back. One had to assume he'd be taking care of those harmed there.

  "I'm sure it is.." "What was that?"

  "I'm going to go to one of the vending machines, okay? I'm thirsty." "Take Ian with you."

  "Why?"

  "It's not safe to go around by yourself." "Inside?"

  "You never know."

  So I looked at Ian, and began walking with a nod of my head. Perhaps it was cruel of me to make the decision for him. Maybe he didn't want to go.. all right, so I knew he didn't want to go. Grown men don't shoot expressions of utter terror at their peers at random. But I was really thirsty. Like, desert dry, thirsty. It felt like I hadn't had a bit of liquid touch my lips in a couple of weeks, and would die without it, so I led the brunet mercilessly down the gloomy hallway.

  I'd been in the large school after dark before, it wasn't anything knew to me, especially since the lights were still on but the place had an eerie feel to it. Maybe it was the night

  I'd had so far. Maybe it was the ominous flashes of lightening outside of the window. I wasn't entirely sure, but I flinched at every echo of our footfalls.

  I wouldn't admit to the boy that I was jumpy, not even when he placed a hand on my shoulder and grinned. His smile was a nervous one, quickly falling away with a flick of his eyes at every open door. Why the doors were open was another answer I didn't have. Maybe it was so we could see what was in the rooms. Maybe it was so we wouldn't be quite as shocked if something came flying out of it, attempting to eat our brains.

  None of the potential precautions could have prepared me for the shattering of a window.

  Hands wrapped about my arm then, pulling me in the direction we'd come from. But I pulled away from Ian's grip. Part of my fight was m
orbid curiosity about what had broken the window, which window had broken, and why it had been broken. But the rest of it was the fact that I was dying for a Ginger Ale. A Sprite. Anything to calm my stomach down just a little bit.

  Just a little bit. "Excel, don't!"

  "Oh, shush up Ian." "What if"

  "We kill it." "What with?!"

  I casually raised the hand that was still holding the chain, and tossed a reckless grin back at him. The way I figured it, if I was about to die, I was going to go out fighting, re-kill as many of the undead as I could, and flick off the one that finally got me. Yes, I was indeed shaking in my sneakers. No, I didn't expect to kill many of them. Just the same, how did we know it was a zombie?

  It was my school we were at. I was going to protect it. "Excel!"

  Utter darkness followed the shriek.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Honestly, I hadn't expected the lights in the hallway, and all the classrooms to go out simultaneously. I hadn't expected the wind to start whistling outside, into whatever window had been broken. I hadn't expected the ominous flash of lightening, and crash of thunder that preceded the gust of air that rushed down the hallway I was in. I hadn't expected the blinding darkness that normally came with a blackout, in the middle of the night. I hoped that the bulbs would flash back on soon.

  But they didn't.

  Because I'm just that lucky.

  I, being the calmcoolcollected person that I am, screamed like a child, and landed on my butt again when another window shattered. An occurrence that I found becoming all too common. I sat there, shivering, whimpering, tearing up with no clue how to approach the situation I'd shoved myself into. The hall was pitch black, aside from the flashing of lightening outside the window, casting shifting shadows about the walls. There was shuffling somewhere in the distance. In the hallway, maybe in one of the rooms. It was unnerving to think that the undead were shuffling around in the dark with us. The thought that they couldn't see us offered little comfort.

  I had a growing suspicion that they didn't even rely on sight. How could they without pupils?

  "Ian?" I could almost physically feel my voice shake. Maybe it was the shaking of my whole body making it seem that way an illusion if you will. But I wanted the damned chess dweeb at my side, that very moment. I wanted to be back in the room with Cathy, Dustin, and Professor Floyd. I wanted out of the darkness.

  But I wasn't that lucky.

  "Excel... there's something out there.." Ian's voice was disturbingly low. Like he was whispering to me. Or he was down the hallway. Why did he his voice sound so small?

  "Ian.. where are you?" I couldn't see him. The occasional flash of light simply didn't reveal his position. Or anything else's. I felt the urge to scream when the shuffling got louder, but I didn't. I settled on pushing my back to the wall, and taking a deep breath. I should have gone back when Ian pulled at me. Shouldn't have tried to be all brave.

  God, I was an idiot.

  Such a God-damned idiot.

  I never expected a shriek to shoot down the hallway from the direction I'd heard the glass shattering. Was someone caught? Had it been a living person that broke in? Were they hurt? Was everyone okay? Something hit me abruptly, falling down with a groan. So I raised my chain, pushing developing thoughts aside in preparation to smash in a zombie head. I swung.

  I got bitten.

  "Aah! The hell was that for?!" Ian shouted from my lap, biting my leg again, just a little off from the spot that he'd first bitten. There wasn't nearly enough pressure behind it to break the skin, but it hurt like hell.

  Even with the boy muttering curses under his breath, I didn't immediately realize I'd hit him.

  When I did, I almost laughed. I hit the boy with the chain. The bloody chain.

  Dude.

  I must have had a really bad arm. "Ian? Ian, that's you?"

  "No, there's a zombie who has more then a two tone vocabulary, with a very sore back, who verbally complains when he gets hit. Yes, it's me you dolt. Why the hell did you hit me?!"

  "I didn't know it was you!" "You asked me where I was!"

  "That doesn't mean 'come fall into my lap, and groan like a cannibal' you idiot!" "I wanted to find you!"

  "You should have waited for the lights to come on!" "They might never come on!"

  "How do you know?"

  "Pessimism, my friend. Pessimism." "God, I'm sorry Ian. But you scared me." "S'okay. Just help me up."

  Sliding my hands under the boy, I helped push him up, just enough so he was sitting like a regular human being. I was rather afraid that I'd broken something. With zombies walking around, I didn't want to be running around with a boy whose back I'd conveniently broken. I wasn't sure I could handle that guilt, on top of all the other guilt flowing through my body.

  Another scream.

  Ian flinched beside me.

  One of us moved to snuggle against to the other. We were scared.

  We were adults.

  But we were cowering all the same.

  The screaming in the distance kept getting louder. More constant. Words started showing up with it. Curses. Prayers to God. The words sent shivers up my spine, down my arms, through my stomach to my legs. It raised goose bumps about my skin. It brought tears to my eyes. Someone was hurt, being hurt, about to be hurt. I didn't know how. I didn't know why. But I wanted to help.

  "Come on Ian." "What?"

  "We need to help her."

  Surprisingly the boy didn't question me. He just forced his way to his feet, with minimal support from my extended hand. I spent a few moments searching my pockets, hoping that there was some source of light in my pants. But I wasn't that lucky. There was nothing but a rubber band, a bit of lint, and a gum ball. A gum ball of all things. I didn't even know how it got there. I didn't want to know. Why I thought there might be a source of light in my pants, I hadn't the faintest clue but you can't say I was blind for lack of trying.

  A lighter was pushed into my hand suddenly, from Ian one had to assume. Regardless of who it came from, there was a source of light in my hand, and I did the one thing I could. I lit it. I pushed down the switch, and almost sighed in relief as a tiny flame popped into existence. It wasn't a flashlight, or a torch, but it did manage to light the hallway just far enough for me to swing my chain. I was sure I'd be able to see something coming, given it wasn't running.

  Seeing as neither Ian, or I had any idea where the screaming was coming from, I led the way toward the sound to the best of my ability. Peeking into this doorway, and that one just to make sure it wasn't one of the rooms we passed. Figuring there may have been something unpleasant hiding in those rooms, I didn't want my back to them.

  Suddenly the screams stopped. As if someone randomly died, without any warning whatsoever. Like someone pressed the mute button. Then, with even less warning then it had stopped, this single blood curdling scream was let out from the room in front of us. Shining the light through the doorway, I could barely make out a girl, shaking on the floor.

  Apparently she saw us too.

  "Help me!" There was a terror I'd never seen the likes of in that plead, in those eyes. But I didn't know why. What was wrong? She looked fine. She looked healthy. But she looked so close to tears that I wanted to go over and hug her. She looked no older then sixteen, one of the high school students that I vaguely recognized.

  "Why? What's the matter?" I tried to fight the anxiety out of my voice, as I approached her. Stepping out of the way as Ian rushed over. He wrapped his arms around her, scooping the bawling girl into his embrace as gently as he could. He didn't understand the situation anymore then I did. I could tell.

  "I.. I don't want to! I don't! I don't!" The girl screamed, wrapping shaking fists in Ian's top. Crying hysterically for reasons none of us understood. Something terrible was happening in her head. Something that we just couldn't figure.

  "What don't you want to do?"

  "I don't want to be one of them!"

  "One of" I didn't bot
her finishing my sentence. Somewhere along the way, the lights had turned back on, revealing rapidly hemorrhaging eyes. Her pupils were shrinking, but I

  couldn't bring myself to pull Ian away. She was crying, he was crying. There was nothing I could do.

  "Where are you going?!"

  I wanted to reassure her. "Where did you go?!"

  I wanted to help her. "Help me!"

  But I couldn't. "I can't see!"

  There was nothing I could do.

  "Help me! Help! I don't want to! I don't want to!" There was nothing I could do.

  "I don no.. no.. gah.."

  I, much like Ian, started to cry. I hadn't known it was like this. I wasn't sure that anybody knew. We didn't know that these people would be aware of the changing. My brother.. maybe he had remembered me when he went on the attack. Maybe he knew who I was, distantly, but couldn't do anything to stop himself. The pain, the fear, maybe it overwhelmed the memories. Maybe it was something else.

  I cried for him. I cried for her.