When The Light Goes Out

by Jack Thompson

"Make me."

  "I'll shoot you." "No you won't."

  "Don't test me, Malachi." "Who's testing? I'm doubting." "Jesus. Go the hell away!" "Yes, your majesty!"

  "Yeah! Well, guess what?! You're getting your life narrated for that one!" I lifted my head up just to shout that at the boys retreating back. "Malachi is walking away. He calmly walks the turn around the seats, heading toward Dustin. He looks towards the back of the auditorium, glaring angrily. He raises his gun, but gets hit in the back of the head by Dustin for his effort. He takes, once again, to glaring in anger." I stopped there, placing my head back on my knees.

  Dammit, I was tired.

  I was tired, and I closed my eyes, praying for sleep.

  But a hand pushing against my shoulders halted all attempts at that one. Again.

  "Goddammit.." I mumbled before shouting from the comfort of my legs, "No, I do not want any girl scout cookies! I don't want to take a survey! And I do not need a new vacuum cleaner!"

  "He didn't bring Louie back."

  My eyes went wide at that one. I hadn't expected the little girl to come to me next. But there she stood. Red hair matted on the top of her head. Bright green eyes bearing holes into me. It wasn't like she was accusing me of something. But I felt like I'd done something wrong anyway. So I sat up, extending an arm for the girl to enter an embrace if she so chose.

  She did, choosing to climb into my lap. Clinging around my neck, like I was the only real thing there. It made me rather sad. What did she want me to do? What did she want me to say? I didn't know. Maybe she didn't know. But she still looked up at me with terribly innocent eyes.

  "Where's Louie? Why isn't he here?" "Louie's gone somewhere better." "Better then here?"

  "Yeah." I didn't bother to mention that, present situation, just about anything was better then 'here.' I smiled at her instead. Letting my legs relax, as I leaned back against the wall, more or less hugging the child. "He probably misses you. But he's okay now."

  "He's not one of them?" "No, he's not one of them." "Good."

  Part of me was curious about how well the little girl understood the situation. How much did she know? Did she realize exactly what a zombie was? Did she realize that these zombies were far, far different from Hollywood zombies given she'd seen any of the old zombie flicks. I didn't know, but it definitely wasn't the time to ask. It just wasn't.

  "Baby, what's your name?" "Rowan."

  "Pretty name."

  "It's a stupid name, and I hate it."

  "Well, what do you want me to call you?" "Pixie."

  "Well then, Pixie, how old are you?" "A woman never tells her age."

  I couldn't help but grin at the way Pixie shyly glanced up at me. Only a small smirk on her face. She was talking like an adult, but she seemed to be tripping over her tongue. Like she was repeating what she'd heard other people say, not quite realizing what it meant.

  "Sorry to say it sweetie, but you're not quite a woman yet. So that rule doesn't work for you." "Well, how old are you?"

  "Old enough." "Not fair."

  "Life's not always fair. Now, Pixie, tell me how old you are, or I will tickle you."

  "No you Aah! Okay! Okay! I'm eight! I'm eight! Uncle! Mercy! I give! Stop!" She screamed, struggling to get away from my fingers pushing gently into her sides, and stomach. But I held tightly to her, only stopping a few moments after she started begging.

  "Atta girl." I smiled. "Planning to doubt me again?" "Nuhuh."

  "I thought so."

  The two of us looked at each other. Just looked. Maybe our expressions were different, I didn't know. But she looked tired. And sad. Tired, and sad. So I pulled her up against my chest. Resting my head on top of hers. Hoping that I'd be able to get some sleep. Even just a couple minutes.

  "Why don't you take a nap?" "I wanna visit Louie."

  "Maybe he'll be there, in your head." "You think?"

  "Us humans have ways of visiting those we love." "Okay."

  I smiled when Pixie stopped squirming. When she quieted down, and, as sad as she might have been, relaxed. I was able to feel the tension melt from her frame. But then I found that I couldn't go to sleep. Something was bothering me, a lot. A question.

  "Who was Louie?"

  "Hmmm?"

  "Louie? Who, exactly, was he?"

  "My buddy. He" The little girl paused to yawn, and I felt rather guilty for waking her up. If, of course, that's what I'd done. "He was taking care of me." "How old was he?"

  "Nine."

  "Poor baby.." "What?"

  "Nothing, go to sleep, baby. I promise not to wake you up again." "Okay."

  There was silence for only a few more minutes, before Pixie started moving again. Squirming, and trying to crawl away. I didn't know why. I didn't know to where, but I let her go. If the girl wanted to go somewhere, I wasn't going to stop her. Taking care of an eight year old, during a zombie invasion, really wasn't how I'd planned to spend my time.

  "I'm going to Dustin." "You do that."

  "What's your name?" "Excel."

  "Funny name." "I know." "Goodnight." Naive little girl.

  "Goodnight, Pixie. Be sure to get some sleep."

  I crossed my arms, leaning my head back against the wall. Turning my face to the side. I uncrossed my arms, pulling my knees up to my chest. Leaning my face against them. Wrapping my arms around them. Letting go. Lifting my head. I couldn't get comfortable, I realized with the tiniest surge of frustration. I desperately wanted to sleep, but wasn't so sure that it was going to happen.

  I couldn't stop thinking about Louie. Whoever he was. Whatever he looked like. I wasn't so sure about anything that had to do with him other then he was nine, and one of Pixie's friends. And, apparently, Malachi killed him. How could the boy live with that? I wouldn't have been able to.

  Maybe death was preferable to whatever one would call turning into a zombie. Turning, I guess you could call it easy as that. But I wasn't so sure I would have been able to just kill the child. That's exactly what he was. A child. He hadn't started living his life yet. He was a baby.

  It wasn't something to think about as the world was blacking out. Common sense told me that the thoughts would probably give me unpleasant dreams. That I just didn't want to be thinking them. But I did. And the world disappeared with the cries of children, and the smell of death. And the thought that maybe maybe death was better then being one of them.

  It was.

  It had to be.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When had I fallen asleep? Forget that. Where had I fallen asleep? All I knew was that I was extremely cold, and something was moving. I didn't know what it was. The ground maybe. No.. I was moving? Why was I moving? I didn't want to move. I wanted to sleep. It was still night, it had to be. There was no sign of light through my eye lids. Normally they looked all pink when things got bright enough to wake me up but nothing.

  There were hands on me.

  Why were there hands on me? "The 'ell?"

  "You awake Excel?" "Ian?"

  "Yeah. Good. You're finally awake. Can you walk?"

  I felt myself more or less dumped on my feet after the question, but I didn't remain on them all that long. I stayed up maybe half a step before I crumpled to my knees. I was only kept off my face by two sets of hands. Only one I immediately recognized. Belonging to Ian, I was pretty sure. Who was the other?

  One would normally open ones eyes to find out what one didn't know. However, opening my eyes felt like too much effort.

  I thought about it. Considered it.

  And pushed the thought aside.

  Instead, I let myself be picked up by the hands. I leaned into whoever it was that held me. I was happy for the support while I tried to gather my thoughts. I didn't know why Ian was there but only for a moment. Only for a moment filled with silence, and sleep induced confusion, was I able to forget the situation. Until, of course, the first groan broke that wonderful peace, and the situation hit me head on.

  "Oh my God."


  My eyes popped open suddenly, and I stared up into a face that I didn't recognize at first. A moment more of reflective silence reminded me of his name. Malachi. I sighed, moving to get to my own feet. I didn't want to make his life any harder then it probably was. I didn't want to weigh him down.

  I wanted to go back to sleep, honestly. But I knew that doing so wouldn't solve the problem. And there was, in fact, a new problem. A problem that went sort of like we weren't in the school anymore. In fact, there was a group of us walking down an empty alley. But the emptiness only seemed to make the groans of the undead echo. It brought me back to a chilling reality that I wanted no part of.

  "Dammit." "Excel?" "Dammit!"

  "What's"

  "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! I don't want this! I do not want any part of this! Any of it! I want to go home! Goddammit!" I swung, and hit Malachi square in the middle of his chest, growing frustrated when he barely flinched. Was I that weak? Was he that strong? It just made me angry.

  I wasn't quite bothered by the string of profanities that went flying from my mouth as I proceeded to hit the boy. Dead in the chest. In the freezing cold. Just wanting him to fall. To hurt. To show that I was doing something. Anything. I didn't care what. I just wanted a reaction, and I wasn't getting one. He was just looking at me. The icing on the cake was that he looked sympathetic. Sympathetic for the person who was effectively beating him up.

  I didn't stop though. I raised my hands, and pushed him as hard as I could straight into the wall. Growing even angrier, even more frustrated when his expression didn't change. When he didn't look away from me. When he didn't get mad. The harder I started hitting, the more sympathetic he looked. Until, finally, he grabbed both of my wrists, and forced them to my sides. Effectively holding me still. Vulnerable.

  I refused to cry. "Bastard"

  "I'm not the one who just started beating you for no reason."

  Even his voice was calm, which threw me into another fit of rage. I started squirming in his grip, not feeling the tiniest bit of guilt. My arms, however, were beginning to hurt with the way they were begin twisted in his grip. Not by his efforts mind you. He had very little to do with it. But I didn't care. I wanted to make him bleed, I realized with a certain level of disgust.

  A level of disgust that made me stop struggling. It made me freeze in place, and avert my gaze. Dammit.

  I was as bad as them.

  "Are you better now? Did you get that all out of your system, or do we need to stand here like this longer? I can stand here all morning if I need to. It doesn't bother me at all

  Excel." Malachi didn't raise his voice at all, which brought on the imminent guilt. "Look at me." "No."

  "Why not?" "I'm sorry."

  "Then look at me."

  It took a long, cold moment for me to look up. But I did. And I stared straight at him when I did. I couldn't place his expression. Part of me wanted to believe that it was anger. But another part of me knew that it wasn't. I wanted to be mad again. But I found that I couldn't muster up the emotion. I found myself wondering why I was mad in the beginning. It wasn't as if Malachi made the zombies, or something. He was a victim, just like the rest of us.

  "Where's Pixie?" "With Dustin." "Cathy?" "Same."

  "Guys!" I looked up to see Ian peek around the corner. Staring at the two of us oddly, before he waved us over to him. "Come on! We need to get going. There's a bit of a congregation going on s'not safe. Malachi, if you're going to kiss Excel hurry the hell up. We don't have much time."

  I didn't know whether to blush at the kissing bit or not, but I was sort of relieved that Malachi let me go. Sort of not relieved at the same time. That little bit of physical contact, however violent, dragged me back to reality. I made me realize that no, we weren't safe. Yes, we could die. And if I kept acting like a child, the chances were only that much more likely.

  "Shall we, Excel."

  I only nodded, finding that I couldn't do much else. But I walked obediently beside him. Exactly one step in front of him, with his hand pushing me towards Ian at a rather brisk pace. I would have much preferred running. But that didn't happened either. Because before I could pick up quite that much speed, we rounded the corner.

  There, I froze in an all too familiar state of horror. "Oh my God."

  The alley, I knew full well, led to a back street. Not frequented by foreigners. Not frequented by those of us who lived there either. One side of the street was blocked off by a fence, while the other led out onto what would normally be a rather busy sidewalk.

  Nothing special there.

  It was the other side of the fence that got me though.

  I was surprised I hadn't heard the constant groans, and rattling of what sounded to be aluminum. I was surprised I hadn't heard any screams. Because right there, pushing up against the gate, was a frighteningly large group of the undead. Chewing on a bloody corpse. Outright fighting over it. Pulling, and dragging, and pushing.

  Finally I noticed sobbing somewhere toward the other end of the alley. "Oh, Hell."

  Had Pixie been the one to fall upon this? Crap.

  "Come on, Malachi." "What?" "Something's up." "No. Really?"

  "I don't appreciate the sarcasm, kid." "Who're you calling kid?"

  "Now is not the time you two!"

  I looked over to see Dustin glaring holes into the two of us. Angry as hell, if I was any judge. He was cuddling the hunching form of what had to be Pixie. Suddenly, I was attacked by a whole new wave of guilt, and wanted to go pitch in a word of comfort. But the moment I took a step toward them, the gate creaked.

  Not just any creak, mind you.

  I knew the sound of a shifting gate, anyone who ever went to a school, with a school yard, had to know that sound. This wasn't it. It was more a sound of bending metal. I started to turn towards the group of zombies, but before I could even turn halfway, my arm was grabbed and I was more or less thrown at Dustin.

  There was a look of utter terror on his face. "Run!"

  I didn't know who yelled.

  I wasn't entirely sure why they yelled.

  But when there's a very large group of hungry zombies behind a flimsy little fence, and someone yells "run" like a madman, you do so. Without asking any questions. Without looking back. You just run like the devils on your heels with a flaming pitch fork, really bad body odor, with you down wind.

  Dustin was leading the run, however only by a few steps. Ian was pretty damn close behind him, dragging me along by my arm. I could hear a bunch of people running behind me. But I didn't look back. I knew that if I took that chance, I'd end up flat on my face, and in everyone's way.

  The fact that I knew some zombies were capable of running was the real winner. I didn't want to risk falling on my face if the bastards could catch up with me. Sure. Some of them wouldn't be able to run. But maybe, just maybe, some of them could. And I didn't want to be the lucky one to find out exactly which ones those were.

  I wasn't so sure I could handle it.

  "Where do we go?!" I demanded, as frantic as I'd ever been. I wanted to know what the plan was. I wanted to know where was safe. Never mind the fact that we left what we already knew was safe. Speaking of which, I wanted to know why we left the school. I wanted to know with an excruciating urgency. But it wasn't the time to ask.

  "Anywhere!" Came the reply from Dustin. He was beginning to slow, and I didn't know whether to urge him faster, feel bad, or think that he was getting what he deserved. As far as

  I knew, leaving to school was his idea. And he didn't know where to go. "Helpful."

  "Hey, I don't live here, remember?" "Touche!"

  "So, where does the nonforeigner think we should go?" "You're asking me?!"

  "Is that what it sounds like?" "Sorta!"

  "Then yes!" Great.

  The state of our existence was officially on my shoulders. Where to go?

  "There's a supply warehouse a couple blocks down!" "Warehouse, as in no windows?"

  "Yeah!"

&n
bsp; "Which way?!"

  "That way!" I didn't realize the stupidity in my statement immediately, it actually took a backwards glare from Dustin to make me realize exactly what I'd done. I would have outright face palmed if it wasn't for the fact that Ian was still tugging me along.

  "Hang a left across the street!" Ian explained the location for me. "I"ll tell you where to go from there."

  "Why don't you take the lead?" Dustin's question came as a near shock to me. Rather the attitude he shoved into the few words did. "Yeah." Came from Ian, as he let go of my arm. "Why don't I?"

  I watched him move forward, officially trying to keep myself on my feet. At least the boy knew which place I was talking about. I figured everyone would know where I was talking about, but they'd all stayed quiet. So maybe I was wrong. Regardless I figured the location would be very helpful. No windows. Bottled water, and various other liquids. Food. However the perishables would probably wind up rather unpleasant the longer they sat there.

  Unless, of course, the warehouse still had the barbecues on display. That would have been a win.

  I couldn't have guaranteed anything if I tried to though.