It didn't come as such a shock to me when gun shots rang somewhere in the distance. Where, I didn't exactly know. But the sound was becoming distressingly familiar. I hadn't even held a gun before the whole damned situation started. Never seen one so close up. Dammit. It wasn't fair.
Why did the zombies have to invade during my lifetime? What had I ever done?
Asking such questions, I figured, was pointless though. I mean, honestly, I'd never really get an answer. Nor did the answers really matter. The why didn't matter quite so much as the how. Even the how didn't matter as much as the mere fact that it was happening, and unless I could find a time machine, it would keep happening. Until of course a solution to the problem was found.
Question was, who was going to find the solution? Not me, I was quite positive.
Traveling somewhere in a pack of people, in a zombie infested city, made me feel just a little useless. I wasn't a fighter. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. It just wasn't my thing. I didn't want to hurt anyone. For my safety or otherwise, I didn't want to. I didn't like the thought of it. It didn't give me the sort of satisfaction I'd heard some guys talk about. It made me feel bad. I, apparently, sucked at decision making. I knew I sucked at directions barely knowing my left from my right half the time, let alone east from west.
It wasn't a good time to be living, I realized. But that didn't only apply to me. There were countless families, probably completely wiped out so long after the first reports started hitting the news. It was almost frightening, the way that it had literally only been 'yesterday.' You would expect it to take at least a couple weeks for the infection, the virus, the disease, to spread. But, the way it seemed, it only took a few hours.
Unless of course it was already in our systems. Maybe the water supply was poisoned.
Maybe the food.
I didn't know. I didn't really want to think about it. But with the thought officially in my head, I couldn't help it. I never quite realized exactly how susceptible we, as humans, would be if someone decided to mess with us. Just about anything could be slipped into the water supply, if one really thought about it. Just one person. Just one person, at the right place, at the right time, could potentially kill everyone.
Maybe the zombies were a new form of germ warfare. Maybe one of our neighboring countries decided that we needed to be offed already. People were always joking around about what could go wrong next. Maybe, just maybe, this was it. Maybe some sick bastard planned to kill, and reanimate everyone.
Everything?
There was, indeed, a rather rabid looking dog staring me down. Something was dripping from his mouth, shining in the scant light available with the sun just coming up. Maybe it was drool. Maybe it was water. I couldn't be sure. But, uncertainty told me that it might just be blood. In which case we had a whole new set of problems on our hands.
If animals could carry the infection, we were screwed.
It was rather surprising that I didn't trip as I stared at the fuzzy creature, sitting across the shadows across the street from us. It was even more shocking that I didn't scream holy murder when it got up, and started walking towards us. From far away, it looked sort of normal, given not all dogs drool like water faucets. But the closer it got, the more sure I was that something was terribly wrong.
It was missing an ear, and there were strips of flesh literally hanging off of its side. The sight alone made me want to cry, but I didn't. I just sped up my steps, and raised my voice just high enough for those around me to hear.
Just in case they hadn't seen. "Guys, we've got a problem!"
"What?" Dustin asked, sounding honestly concerned. Maybe it was my tone of voice. Maybe he was just that close to a freak out as was. I didn't honestly care, because eyes still on the animal it was speeding up.
"The virus has passed onto animals. There's a dog"
Maybe if I'd spoken a little faster, or chosen a location a little closer, there might not have been a blood curdling shriek from the back of the group. A sound that had a good handful of us pulling a complete 180, just to see what was going on. Not so much out of morbid curiosity (as I'm sure the good lot of us knew exactly what was going on) as to pinpoint the animals exact location.
It was tearing flesh from one of the fresh faced young women in the group. A junior if I recalled correctly. She'd lived a life sure but not one that was long as she should have been able to. Should have lived until she was old, and not so fresh faced. But the way she went down. The look of horror. I couldn't see the hope in the situation, as she looked dead at me. I found I couldn't hold eye contact. I simply couldn't.
So, with a sort of reluctance, I turned away from the girl. Praying to the Powers that Be for someone to have a gun. To make her death as quick, and painless as possible.
To kill the dog. I didn't know.
I wanted to cry all over again.
But I walked past Cathy as she was approaching the animal, and the girl. Gun drawn. I knew what would happen. I didn't like it. The look on Cathy's face led one to believe she didn't like it. No normal person would be able to enjoy such a thing. But the rest of the group started moving again as two gun shots rang out.
One life was lost, and one body was allowed rest. Dammit, karma was cruel.
Life was cruel.
The universe was.
But there wasn't a single thing that I could do about it, so I picked up speed as the group started breaking out into various runs. I didn't want to be left behind. I didn't want to be attacked. Shot. Forgotten in a few years. I didn't want my body to be left for the undead to eat.
"Ian!" Dustin's voice stood out from anywhere, for some reason. Maybe it was because he was the one who first protected me. Somehow, I felt capable of trusting him. Trusting him more then I probably should. But I did, and I turned my head in the direction I figured the voice was coming from. "How much further?!"
"About a block." Was shouted by Ian. But he probably didn't hear the exasperated groans from the people surrounding me.
"See the big building across the street there?" I asked, as loudly as I could, given I was completely out of breath. "The one with the big gray walls? That's it. We'll be safe in there, and we'll probably be able to rest for a while. There's food, and everything." I hoped that my little bit of input hoisted their spirit's. But I couldn't be entirely sure.
"Do the doors lock?"
I wasn't sure where the question came from, but I nodded my head just as Ian shouted, "Yeah!" Not so sure why someone wanted to know aside from the obvious answer. Keeping the zombies out would probably be a number one priority. As a matter of fact, I was positive it would be.
"Are the doors made of glass?"
"No!" I shouted that as loudly as I could in the general direction of the question. "They have glass in them, but it's at the top of the door, and it's too small for anyone to get through. Trust me. Various kids have tried throughout the ages, none of succeeded. Two have gotten stuck." The explanation seemed to assure several of the people. But some of them still appeared a bit scared.
We kept walking regardless. Kept speed walking.
Kept running.
We were all afraid.
Thankfully, we arrived at the building sooner then I could have hoped. Everyone filing in as quickly, and quietly as possible. Looking at the dark, extremely large room, I couldn't help but realize exactly how big it really was. While shopping (or otherwise loitering, as I'd done on many past occasions) one really didn't notice such things. But it really was large.
Very large.
One couldn't help but worry that there just might be one, or two undead roaming the place. One couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility when one realized that the doors had been suspiciously unlocked. Obviously I wasn't the only one who thought that, seeing as everyone suddenly seemed nervous all over again.
"Considering the fact that there are countless things to be used as weapons in here, I don't think we should be too concerned at the unlocked state of the door.
" I whispered the words, but everyone heard. Everyone turned. Everyone stared.
"How come I didn't know about this place?"
A turn of my head revealed a various classmate or two, condemning me with their eyes. As if I'd kept the place a secret or something. Under normal circumstances, I would have overlooked their expressions. But the walking, flesh eating, dead roaming the city weren't normal circumstances no matter where one originated from so the words, and the looks didn't just slide off like they normally would.
"Maybe because you had your head shoved so far up your"
"Excel!" Dustin cut me off, hands over Pixie's little ears as he glared a warning at me. Telling me to watch my mouth without so many words. "She started it!"
But I quieted down in spite of my accusation. I didn't really want any problems. Not when my chances at life were so small, and may just count of my new companions quick thinking. Common sense told me not to antagonize those who just might end up saving me in the future. But I sent a glare in the persons direction all the same.
I could almost see the group of survivors dividing into factions, already. It wasn't right.
We needed to work together.
"Sorry." Fine, I'd be the one to apologize. I'd be the bigger person, even if I wanted to be microscopic at the moment. "I'm sorry. I'm just" "Scared?"
"Tired?" "Cranky?"
Several voice peeped up, offering words to describe my mood, but I only forced a grin at them. Not sure if they were mocking me, or actually trying to be sort of helpful. Instead of answering, I nodded my head, and looked to the ceiling. Momentarily wondering how to get the lights on.
"I'm going to go find the light switch, okay Dustin?" I grinned at the worried expression suddenly on his face. "Don't fret, I'll take Malachi with me. You don't mind do you" And I froze.
I outright froze.
I looked around the room. Looked a second time.
A third time.
I felt my heart jump to my throat, my stomach drop to the floor, and my eyes burn. I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know how it could have happened. Pixie seemed to be the first to pick up on what was bothering me, because her mouth fell wide open, and she stared in just as much horror as I.
"Excel? You okay?"
I barely noted the fact that Ian placed a hand on my shoulder, and tried to peer into my eyes as I continued staring around the room. Staring. Staring. Looking. Searching. Hoping to find myself mistaken, or at least discover some semblance of an answer.
But I couldn't find anything. I'd need to ask.
"Where's Malachi?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Malachi?"
Several people turned to me when I spoke. Giving me various looks of confusion. Several of disbelief. Some maybe even wondering who the hell Malachi was. He didn't strike me a talkative person; he probably hadn't introduced himself to anyone. Not that I'd blame him or anything. I didn't want to know half of the people that I did, and if I could make it so they didn't know me, I would in a heart beat. But I didn't have that option. And Malachi wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Malachi, if you're here, stop being an asshole don't you ever repeat that word Pixie and come the hell or that one out already!" I felt sort of odd going between shouting at the darkness, and warning Pixie not the curse. As far as I knew she was already aware of far worse words. I didn't care. I didn't want to be the one to corrupt the child anymore then she might have been.
I wasn't so sure what to do then. Part of me really, honestly, wanted to burst into tears. Considering the fact that the boy was mean to me the moment he met me, I beat him up, and he always seemed to get me angry, I wasn't sure why I was upset. Logically, I should have been happy he was no where in sight. But I wasn't. I wanted to cry. And I wanted to kill the damn boy for worrying me.
I hoped I wasn't developing on of those crazy lovehate relationships. Two days and I'd be drowning myself in the toilet.
By the third day I wouldn't bother flushing before hand.
"Dustin?" I prayed that my voice wasn't shaking, but I couldn't be entirely sure. I didn't care how sure I was, honestly. But I sighed when he looked over at me. A look of sympathy that I'd received only a little while earlier, back in the alley, by the very boy who had my gut all knotted up. "Do you know where he is?"
"He's the one who threw you towards me before, one assumes he stayed behind." "But why?"
"Maybe to protect everyone else."
"I beg to differ. Everything I've seen so far tells me that he really wouldn't do that. Being the self centered leprechaun that he is." "What about Pixie?"
"Sympathy."
"Well, why else would he stay behind?"
"I don't know. I" I sighed, and shook my head. "I don't care."
A hand was suddenly on my shoulder, and green eyes were peering into my own. I just stared. Not that I couldn't look away, just because I wasn't so sure that I should. He had a serious look about him. Like he was going to say something that was about to change my life, which for all I knew could have been exactly the case. He didn't smile. He didn't even speak at first. He just looked at me.
"I don't care if you lie to me, Excel. Lie all you want. Tell me that you're a fourteen foot tall, purple gorilla, sprouting little pink flowers from the top of your head I won't argue. But don't lie to yourself. Nothing's quite worth that. Nothing. You got that?"
I only nodded after a moment, finding myself incapable of speech.
My throat felt as if it had sealed up on me. Which with my luck was actually true. But I tried to clear it up. Tried to speak. Nothing came out above a dull roar, and I had to swallow several times before it stopped feeling so tight. Dustin was right, I shouldn't lie to myself. Because the truth was that I did care. Not necessarily for Malachi, as much as I didn't think that any person should have to suffer through such a terrible death.
Reanimation.
A second death.
"I'm... I'm going to go find the lights anyway. I'm not sure anyone wants to be here in the dark." "I'll go with you."
"Cathy?"
"I'm the only other person with a gun." Was the easy explanation she offered. "I'll go with you." "All right.."
Our walking was done in total silence. Neither of us spoke. I didn't look at her. Maybe she didn't look at me. Maybe she did. I couldn't be sure, but I knew that everyone else was staring as we walked. I didn't know why they were staring though. I figured they would have been happy we were going to go put the lights on.
But no.
There was still contempt in their eyes. Anger.
Maybe at me. Maybe at Cathy.
I didn't know who, but it wasn't helping. It was upsetting. I didn't know if they were turning their backs on us, or just trying to find someone to blame. Maybe they were mad that I
hadn't spoken up about the dog quicker. As if I'd seen it sooner or something. Why didn't they see it?
Why was I jumping to conclusions?
I didn't know, but I led Cathy all the way over to the back of the shop. Maybe the switches were there. I didn't know. I didn't work in the damn place. Maybe they were in the back room. I was hoping not. But I had nothing else to go with, honestly. None of us did. Not in the light of day, dark of night, or pitch black of the damned warehouse.
Why did I pick that place anyway?
I mean, I could barely see anything, unfortunately. Found myself tripping over various items on my way to the storage rooms. That's where everything was. Maybe, just maybe I'd get lucky you know, not get eaten, and find the switches at the same time. But, I didn't want to raise my own hopes.
Couldn't raise my own hopes about surviving the damn invasion. Couldn't raise my own hopes about living.
About finding love.
About, maybe, having a family.
That would have been stupid with death breathing down my neck, with every step I took. I felt those cold hands again. Wrapping so tightly around my heart that I swore I couldn't breathe. Maybe my heart stopped for a moment, as I froz
e before the back wall. If they weren't here, we were screwed, and I knew it.
I knew it.
"Please." I almost couldn't recognize my own voice as I whispered. "Please. Please let them be here." For a horror filled eternity, I ran my hands over the wall. Hoping praying
that there would be some little switch. That the lights would flick on, at the control of my fingers. That everything would end up perfectly okay. But of course, predictably, it didn't quite work that way.
Yes, the lights turned on. But I didn't do it.
I hadn't been the one to flip the switch, and I nearly fainted when a gun was pushed against my forehead. The cold metal was a gut wrenching reminder that my life was at risk from more then just the undead. Unless, of course, they suddenly learned to use guns, in which case I didn't think I'd be surviving to the end of the day.
"The 'ell do ye want?" Came the question that I just barely translated. The voice held such a thick, decidedly Irish accent that I wasn't so sure I heard him right. But he pushed the gun even closer to my head, leaving an indent in the skin there, and repeated his question. "Well? Answer me!"
When The Light Goes Out Page 8