When The Light Goes Out

by Jack Thompson

  I could swear I was going to lose my lunch (if you'll forgive the phrase.)

  I jumped at the sudden movement beside me (it seemed to be the new craze.) But I calmed immediately when I realized it was only Malachi. I wanted to drop kick him for leaving

  Ian alone, but held myself under tight control. I knew that whatever he was about to do was going to be exceptionally helpful to me. To us. To everyone in the building. That or we were all going to die.

  I chose not to think about that.

  The brunet simply ripped the window open, let off two shots, and closed the window seconds later. He didn't hesitate at all, as if he'd taken care of a very similar problem before. Which, considering the fact that Blaz said "they're back" was probably extremely accurate. He probably had dealt with it before.

  The fact that Blaz had used the word "they" instead of "he" or "it" was disturbing. "They" meant there was more than one. And that thought made my stomach clench a bit. Or the lack of sustenance made my stomach clench. I didn't know. But the identity behind the now dead re-dead creature was bothering me.

  "Malachi?" "Yes, Excel?" "What was that?" "A zombie."

  "Why was it moving so fast?" "It had no reason not to?" "Excuse me?"

  "You'll notice that the only zombies that move the way that the creatures do in the movies are the ones that have broken limbs. Or missing limbs. Or other various otherwise inhibiting wounds. The rest of them are capable of moving just like we do. With one difference."

  "What difference?" "They never get tired."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Never in my entire life did I expect a can of Dr. Pepper, and a box of "Sun Dried Raisins" to taste so goddamned good. But they did. They were like heaven in my mouth and I wanted to kill something when they ran out. Blaz had been nice enough to buy them from a vending machine for me, as I had no money on me, and I couldn't seem to pry the damned machine open.

  Believe me, I tried.

  No amount of kicking, or punching seemed to be working. Perhaps it was instant karma that took a good chunk of skin off my hand while getting violent with the machine. Malachi gave me a bit of a look as he cleaned me up, wrapping up the wound with a little bit of gauze. As a matter of fact, he demanded a "look at me" and cleaned up my other wounds as well. My forearms, my knee, my head. He cleaned up everything, and wrapped up what he could, and it actually made me feel a bit at ease.

  I hadn't even realized I was tense until I actually relaxed, laying there on a pile of whatever I was laying on. I wasn't even sure what. It might have been a thin cushion, or a folded blanket. It probably was a folded blanket, I concluded, everyone must have realized I was still sopping wet. I, in all honesty, hadn't realized how wet and cold I was until after my meal. When the adrenaline must have been wearing off.

  The moment I realized exactly how cold I was, I wished that I never noticed. Because then the shivers set in. Every once in a while my entire body would just spasm, and I'd nearly roll from my resting place. This caused me to try to control the shakes, and forced my teeth to clatter instead. Apparently, my body decided, if it wasn't allowed to do one it was going to do the other whether I liked it or not.

  "Here." "Hmm?" "Here."

  I sighed when I realized I was going to be forced to open my eyes. I could swear I was just drifting off to sleep when Malachi's voice interrupted me. Roused me. Woke me. However you choose to say it. I took my damn time opening my eyes too. Choosing to stretch first, and then rub my eyes, before I finally opened them.

  "Ungrateful brat."

  A sweatshirt, and pair of jeans were tossed in my face. Neither extremely attractive, but I was quite sure both would fit me. I didn't quite understand the gesture until I shivered again, and then I truly appreciated it. The clothing he'd thrown at me was dry. Mine most definitely weren't. He was giving me the opportunity to change.

  "Thanks."

  "No problem. Bathroom's over there. Change before you get pneumonia." "Yes, mommy."

  "Don't press your luck."

  "I'd never dream of it."

  Some people may have claimed we were flirting. To this I turn my nose and scoff, because it couldn't possibly be further from the truth. Me, flirt with Malachi? Please. He was by no means an unattractive boy. But then again, Cathy had been quite the attractive girl, and I hadn't flirted with her either. Says little about my preference, I chose neither.

  I preferred to be asexual. Extremely asexual.

  Zombie attacks were not a good time to get your freak on with the nearest warm body. It wasn't a good time to be raising children, or falling in love, or anything else that young adults do by nature. Because if you lose any of those things you get hurt. Heartbroken. And a zombie attack was not a good time to be heartbroken essentially vulnerable. Vulnerability meant death.

  I didn't want to die. Love could wait.

  I stood and shuffled over to the bathroom, stretching out complaining muscles, stiff as they were. I figured it was the cold water that made them stiff, but I couldn't be sure. I'd never been good with such assessments. It wasn't my thing. Wasn't my business. They don't teach you such things in normal school, so I simply hadn't been taught.

  Damn was it a relief to get changed.

  The sweatshirt was fluffy, soft, and warm. I was able to overlook the fact that it had a really tacky looking skull on the front of it, with little hearts for eyes. And the jeans were just a little too big, but so long as I didn't need to run, I figured I would be fine. And even if they fell down, the sweatshirt was long enough to cover me up.

  The wet socks were now the downer of the day.

  I hadn't even noticed they were wet until the rest of my body was dry.

  Without any other solution, I simply took them off, put my shoes down near the door, and placed the socks laid out in the sink. I really hoped that they would dry before I

  needed them. Or, at the very least, I hoped that there was a dry pair available somewhere. Maybe I'd ask around, I couldn't really decide. I didn't want to decide.

  I wanted to sleep. "Thanks, Malachi." "No problem."

  I noted that, outside the bathroom door, he was holding dry clothing as well. He must have gotten wet while he was outside with Cathy. Or.. whenever he'd gotten wet. I didn't even know for sure, but I went over to where I'd been seated before, hoping to find that the cloth there wasn't completely soaked through.

  I could have kissed whoever, apparently, changed the blanket. "I figured ye'd want to sleep somewhere dry."

  "Thanks." "Yea."

  It was as if everything was moving in slow motion then. Moving to the blankets. Laying down. Realizing that dark brown eyes were staring at me. Ian was awake. Ian was watching me. Well, at the very least I was glad that he was still alive. But he looked pale. Very, very pale, and he didn't look entirely there in the head.

  "Ian?"

  To my shock his lips curled into a bit of a grin. Happy to hear my voice? I certainly hoped that wasn't the case. It was just a little weird for me, I guess. Not that Ian was weird at all. Maybe he was just happy to be alive. That one made much more sense anyway. Much, much more sense. Or maybe that was just because I wanted it to make more sense.

  The world may never know.

  "Oh my God, Ian. You're awake." And I reached for his hand, shocked that he was able to meet me part way. "How are you feeling?"

  He just kept smiling a weak little smile. But his hand did grip mine, quite tightly given the circumstances. And I gripped back, not tight enough to hurt, but in hopes of letting him know that I appreciated his effort. I wanted to tell him not to strain himself, but at the same time I didn't want him to close his eyes again.

  Footsteps.

  "Malachi, he's awake," I admit I spoke in an abnormally low voice. The kind you'd use around a sleeping baby. "He's awake." I was just too damned happy to give a shit. I was ecstatic. In my mind, it meant that the boy was going to be okay. I had no clue whether that was actually the truth of the matter.

  "I can see that." "Yeah
.."

  "How're you feeling, man?"

  "I" The boys voice was hoarse, and he almost immediately started coughing. "I" "Shush. Blaz, can you get some water?"

  "Righto, Kai."

  I didn't bother looking up to see the man move, I knew that he was, and that was all that mattered. I was shocked Malachi hadn't sent me though. He always seemed to be sending me on such little errands. Maybe it was the hand in mine that prevented it. I couldn't be sure, and didn't care, and only wanted to keep looking at the conscious boy.

  Boy, was I tickled pink.

  "Hey, Ian. You're going to be fine, you know?" "Yeah. You're doing great Ian."

  I'm not sure if I was appropriately shocked that Malachi backed me up. But he did, and at the same time it was a bit of a relief. It either meant I wasn't lying to the boy, or we were

  both lying to the boy. That I could handle, I decided. "Water."

  "Thanks, Blaz."

  For a moment I wondered if I'd ever honestly thanked the man. Not in a sarcastic way, but thanked him. I wasn't sure. Maybe I had. All I could think of was giving the young man I

  was holding hands with the water. And it felt so refreshingly cold through the glass. It was a bit of a relief.

  "Excel, I'm going to hold him up." Malachi made eye contact with me. "You give him the water, just a little bit at a time, okay? If he drinks too much too fast he's going to throw up. He might drown if you give it to him too quickly as well."

  "I'll be careful."

  Never in my life had I been more honest than I was in that moment. I would be careful.

  As fucking careful as I could be.

  And I was careful. I only let Ian have little sips, until he turned his head away, apparently not wanting anymore of the liquid. I smiled. Malachi smiled. Blaz smiled. There was a whoop of triumph somewhere in the background. I didn't know from who, or what they were triumphant at, but that's definitely what it was.

  "Guys?"

  "I got the TV working!" "Good work, Jaden!"

  I looked up, taking mental notes of the boy. I had absolutely no clue who the boy was, as he wasn't in the original group that Malachi was leading here. Maybe he'd been here when they got here. Maybe they'd picked him up on the way. I figured it wouldn't be appropriate to ask. I figured it shouldn't matter to me.

  One more survivor.

  "Can you bring it out here?" I asked, making eye contact with the boy. "Probably."

  "Please, try."

  "Sure. Why not."

  And the boy was off in a flash of tan. "Who's he?"

  "I'm not entirely sure. We saved him from a bunch of zombies on the way here. After figuring that he hadn't been bitten we decided that it would be okay to take him with us. He's been a pretty big help believe it or not. Fixing the locks, and the lights. He's been working on the TV for an hour or something."

  And I nodded my head.

  I'd trust Malachi's judgment. So far, it hadn't failed us. "Here we have it!"

  And the boy brought in the TV, with the help of the original boy in our group. I was glad to see that he was okay, nearly facepalming when I realized that he'd helped carrying Ian in. So, obviously, he was still okay. It was such a stupid mistake to make. But whatever.

  "Put on the news."

  "News doesn't have anything." "International channels?"

  "Let's try."

  Sure enough we got news from Europe. And Korea.

  And Japan. And Canada.

  All of them seemed to say the same thing.

  "All travel to, and from America has been suspended until the crisis there has been solved. Orders have been given to shoot any ships out of the water, and any planes out of the sky."

  Apparently the Mexican, and Canadian borders had both been sealed from us. But no one knew exactly how much of the U.S. had been taken. S.O.S. signals were still coming, however sporadically, from cities all over the nation. So, as far as we knew, it could have just been a couple of cities. It could have been the whole damned country. But regardless of how much had been overrun with the walking dead, the rest of the world had found out.

  We were condemned.

  We were fucking condemned. No one was going to help us.

  Who knew how long it would be before the cable companies gave out. We were damn lucky to be getting any signal at all, I was sure. It must have taken quite a bit of tinkering to work. I could have kissed Jaden, and punched him in the teeth at the same time. True, it gave us information. But it also gave up pictures of the carnage.

  Apparently, in all the chaos, videos had been put on Youtube. Fucking Youtube.

  Kids had recorded little things. Animals being eaten. People being attacked, and put it on the internet before they realized how fucking dangerous it really was. Some up close shots had been taken as a matter of fact. One person or another had gotten the guts to go and get a close up of the monsters face.

  Him and his buddies had seemed amused before the zombie lashed out at the camera, and from the background you heard something along the line of, "Fucker scratched me." The creature had been beaten. The people had retreated. A close up of the wound had been taken. The video had been put on the internet.

  I couldn't help but wonder how long the kid, and his friends survived after that.

  Probably about as long as it took for the infection to kill him.

  Of course videos such as those had been censored, and ripped, and put on the news all over the world. Proof of the turmoil we were going through. Proof that America had fallen from it's pedestal, and we were all screwed. Fucking screwed, and there was no getting out of it.

  Ian fell asleep to a video of people rushing the airports, trying to escape death. Failing. Being beaten back by the police. People who traveled from America to other countries being forced back onto planes. Not being allowed to go wherever they were going for fear of the infection. And yet, I couldn't entirely blame the leaders of these other countries.

  Their people had to come first. The community at large.

  Doubtless, our president would have done the same exact thing if faced with the choices being made at that very moment. Still, no one had any idea what caused the whole fucking thing.

  Damn it, why were Americans so stupid? Didn't we ever learn?

  Apparently not.

  But, then again, I wasn't entirely sure there were any other zombie invasions recorded in American history to learn from. If there were, the teachers neglected to tell us such at school, and I felt rightly betrayed. That would have made quite the history lesson. Especially since the only way many teachers get to show us movies is by connection to their current lessons.

  Imagine watching a zombie flick in class. Awesome, right?

  Sure, I'd be clinging to my neighbor.

  But it still would've been more fun than reading from a text book. Much more fun.

  By far the most interesting lesson ever. "So much for allies."

  There was a collective chuckle. A very sad collective chuckle.

  "What do you think's going to happen?" It was the chick who spoke. "Who's that?" I leaned towards Malachi when I whispered it.

  "Lila." "Ah."

  "They may start bombing." "And him?"

  "Jeremy."

  "All righty." I paused. "How come you know this?" "I asked when we were traveling."

  "Okay."

  And I attempted to zone back into the conversation. Unfortunately it was damn depressing, and I wanted nothing to do with it. And I didn't want to leave the room. And my tummy rumbled. The room went silent, and everyone stared.

  "I'm still hungry." Indignant. "So sue me."

  Then there was genuine laughter, because it was genuinely funny.

  "All right, someone find a crow bar, and we'll go pry open that damned vending machine." It was Jeremy's offer, presented with a grin that got me smiling as well. I wasn't too sure about anyone else. "Given we don't have a crow bar, I'm pretty sure we could make a sturdy chair work."

  And then, everyone was looking
for a sturdy chair. A damned sturdy chair.

  And we settled on a half plastic piece of crap that was immediately taken apart. The only thing the boy seemed to want was the metal part, which he used to beat the vending machine into submission. As depressing as it turned out, the vending machine won. Jeremy was bent over himself, panting.

  It took three boys (including Jeremy) and Lila before the damned thing finally cracked. And then we were all happy.

  It was potato chips this time. They were my little slice of heaven, and I even got Ian to eat a few. Not much, in all honesty, but the fact that he was eating at all made me feel much better. I could only wish we had a certified doctor, or fully trained surgeon with us though. Someone who could tell me Ian would be perfectly fine without any hesitation.

  I was just going to have to deal with Malachi's personal opinion. There was jolly conversation.

  "And you'll never guess what he did next." "No, no I won't."

  Lila had been talking about her boyfriend for God knows how long, and I was only giving her half an ear. Not that it was an unpleasant subject or something. I mean, considering we could have been discussing whatever seemed to be body slamming the front door of the clinic, the topic was welcome. But there's only so much boy talk one can take before one wants to strangle the offender.