by Stevie Kopas
But everyone was a sinner these days.
Gary peered out the small kitchen window that overlooked the street. It was mostly clear, only a few stragglers wandering about. His eyes fell upon a little girl, probably about seven or eight years old, standing alone in the front yard of a nearly identical house across the street. Gary could have sworn she was staring at him.
Her milky white eyes were fixated on that small kitchen window. Her greasy, blood-stained brown hair flowed down past her shoulders, just short of the lettering on her dirty white t-shirt. The lettering read: Big Sister; and underneath it were two owls, a big pink one hugging a small blue one. Gary felt a sadness deep inside. He wondered what had happened to her, where her parents had been, or perhaps if her parents were the ones that hurt their little girl. He wondered what had become of her little brother.
And then he decided not to think about it anymore. He took one last drag off his cigarette and put it out on the already filthy kitchen counter. He made sure it was completely out before dropping it to the floor and when he looked back up, the little girl was shuffling across the street. As she grew nearer, Gary noticed the bite on her left leg. He creased his brow and wondered if maybe she really could see him through the window and moved about slightly, seeing if he could elicit a response from the little dead girl. The girl snarled, baring her teeth, and he cringed.
“I knew it. We’ve got to go.”
Clyde peeked out the window and the frown returned to his face as he spotted not only the little girl, but a few other eaters making their way to the ugly house where they were hiding.
“Shit, yeah, let’s get a move on.” Clyde handed the fire poker to Gary and ran to the living room, returning quickly with two more melee weapons from the fireplace kit: a small rectangular shovel and a heavy duty set of tongs. He handed the tongs to his brother and looked at his small iron shovel as they quietly made their way toward the sliding glass doors in the back of the house. “I’ll never know what these things are good for other than killin’ dead people,” Clyde said.
Andrew furrowed his brow at him.
Clyde shrugged and waved him off. “It’s not like we ever had a fireplace growin’ up. Do you know what these things are for?”
“Oh who cares, keep it down,” Gary hushed them as he peered between the vertical blinds of the sliding glass doors in the den. “The garden is clear, let’s go.” He pulled hard on the door but it didn’t budge.
Andrew sighed and leaned forward, clicking the lock out of place.
“Cheers.” Gary nodded and smiled, tugging once more on the door. The chilly, damp air greeted them and they crept through the fenceless yard. The neighborhood was full of similarly built homes, the majority of them one-story red brick houses with small yards and no fencing. The men navigated the yards as one, stepping in time with one another; moving at a swift but manageable pace so as not to exhaust anyone or draw unwanted attention to the backs of the houses.
As they moved between homes, the three men noticed, as they got closer to the truck’s location, the streets seemed to be thicker with the dead. They climbed a small chain link fence, and there was an eater at the far end of the yard with its back to them. It kept walking into the fence over and over, stuck in an endless loop of futility.
Gary snuck up behind it and plunged the poker into the back of its skull, lowering the lifeless body to the tall grass in silence and returning to his two friends. The back door to the house hung open. “Want to chance it? We need a better look at the—“
Shots rang out from somewhere across the street.
“What the hell?” Clyde bolted into the house, followed by the others.
The smell of death had long since left this home and the men knew it was safe. They moved to the right side of the house and crowded around the window in the den. Down the road a bit, the eaters had amassed around their destination. More shots were fired.
“Goddamnit!” Clyde cursed as he lit a cigarette with the oversized grill lighter.
“Nobody was home when we parked there. Unless they were too scared to come out, the bastards.” Gary paused and moved to another window, closer to the front of the large home. “I can’t really tell.” He strained to get a better look and sighed. “What’s the plan?” He looked to the other men.
“Maybe somebody’s tryin’ to steal our truck.” Andrew crossed his arms, shaking his head. “This is fucked.”
“Nah,” Gary patted his pocket. “I’ve got the keys, it’s not a total loss. But we have to get over there and—“
He jumped as more shots were fired. “Shit, we just have to get over there. Bottom line.”
Clyde noticed a car in the driveway and an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. “Follow me.”
III
Andrew stood on the front porch and aimed his rifle at the growing crowd of eaters. He watched Gary snake his way over to the next house and try the front door; it opened without instance and Gary flashed him a thumbs up before disappearing inside. Andrew nodded at his brother, who proceeded to smash out the driver’s side window of the gold Buick in the driveway. The dead nearest to them turned and moaned, changing course.
Clyde put his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle before wedging the iron fireplace tongs between the seat and the steering wheel. The Buick’s horn sounded and chills ran down Andrew’s spine; any dead uninterested in the three men before that horn went off were sure to be interested now. Clyde sprinted into the house as Andrew fired a few rounds into a couple of the faster eaters.
“Here, take this.” Andrew handed his brother the rifle and pulled the chef knife he’d pilfered from the kitchen out of his back pocket, cutting his forearm open.
Clyde snatched the weapon from his brother and grimaced. “Oh, hell no, you did not just cut yourself.” Andrew squeezed the blood from his left arm into his right hand and rubbed it on the front door. He made sure to drip it all over the porch and well into the foyer. He ripped a piece of his t-shirt and haphazardly wrapped his arm up as he looked at his brother and smiled.
“Sheeit.” Clyde shook his head. “You nasty.” The siblings laughed and Andrew grabbed his gun back. The two men made haste, running out the back door and hopping the fence, escaping into the neighboring yard.
Gary waited in the doorway and waved them inside. “It’s fuckin’ working!” he exclaimed, his voice full of excitement.
The group rushed to the front and watched in awe as the massive crowd of eaters shambled over to the house next door, completely fascinated by the blaring horn.
“Christ, what happened there?” Gary pointed to Andrew’s arm.
“Distraction juice. They need to think there’s somethin’ worth eatin’ in that house,” Andrew replied.
“Good thinking!” Gary was pumped and ready to go.
The group, albeit their numbers had dwindled, had a purpose again, and with that purpose returned Gary’s enthusiasm. “Let’s go!”
The trio returned to the yard once they knew their little plan had worked and continued toward the armored truck. The howls and moans of the dead, combined with the still blaring horn, were almost unbearable. Since Emerald Park, the men hadn’t seen this many of the eaters gathered in one place.
They snaked through some shrubs alongside a two-story home. Andrew poked his head out and craned his neck. “All clear,” he said, and bolted across the road, Gary and Clyde hot on his heels.
As the trio ran, it seemed their destination got farther and farther away. The eaters were distracted, but the men felt as if every eye of the dead were upon them. Although their footfalls were masked by all the noise, their own feet slapping against the pavement was the most excruciating sound any of them had ever heard. Hearts pounded in chests, sweat poured down foreheads… but finally, the men were across the road and safely in the yard where the truck was parked.
“Don’t fuckin’ move!” a voice cried out from atop the truck.
Startled, but not stupid, Clyde drew hi
s weapon and fired immediately. Gary took cover on the side of the house and Andrew dropped to one knee, ready to back his brother’s play. The man’s lifeless body toppled onto the grass, his pistol flying from his hands. Andrew rushed it, kicking it toward the house. “Gary!” he called out.
Gary peeked around the corner and spotted the gun. He rushed to the firearm and scooped it up, rejoining the group.
They noticed the sliding glass doors to the home were wide open, they were definitely shut up tight when they’d parked the truck here earlier in the day. The truck’s roof hatch was also wide open.
“Stay back,” Andrew warned his companions as he quietly approached the vehicle’s rear. With the butt of the rifle he banged twice on the back door. “Come out now!” he ordered. “We are armed and we will shoot to kill!” There was no response at first, but Andrew, with his back up against the side of the truck, felt movement from within the vehicle. “This is the last warning!”
They could hear the eaters’ moans creeping up from all around them as the interest in the car horn and Andrew’s blood trail wore off. The truck’s back door flew open and two women and another man stepped out with their arms up. The women were sobbing, and the man was stone-faced.
“You killed my brother,” he spat at Andrew.
“No, I did.” Clyde stepped forward, his gun trained on the man. “Now back the fuck away from our truck.”
“You’re killing us,” one of the women managed to say between sobs. The women, clearly twins, held on to one another for dear life.
“And what the fuck you think you was doin’ to us, huh?” Clyde grew angrier as he spoke. “I fuckin’ hate thieves!”
“I second that.” Gary stepped up between Clyde and Andrew, weapon at the ready. His statement shocked both of his companions; they were sure Gary would have been the compassionate one here. “You have no idea what we’ve been through today while you lot kept yourselves shut away nice and cozy in there!” He motioned toward the open sliding glass door as he shouted and the growls of approaching eaters grew louder. “You could have made yourself known to us when we arrived. But you didn’t.”
“We were scared.” The women spoke in unison, their sobbing more uncontrollable now.
Gary pulled the keys from his pocket. “You made your choice. Get back to your hiding place, rabbits.” He tossed his gun to the grass at the stranger’s feet as the women scurried back into the home. The man didn’t speak again as he retrieved his dead brother’s weapon. He jumped as Clyde swung his weapon around and shot an eater, the side of its face exploding onto the brick home.
“Go!” Gary yelled at the man once more before running around to the driver’s side door. Andrew and Clyde covered the stranger as he did, indeed, get back into his hiding place.
“I’m out!” Andrew yelled to his brother, tossing the useless rifle to the ground and jumping into the back of the truck.
Clyde threw himself in after his brother, Gary’s foot already on the accelerator before he could pull the door shut. The undead piled into the yard as the truck bounded through the flower beds of the neighbor’s home, through a fence, and then finally fishtailed back onto the road. Gary checked the rearview mirror and saw that the eaters were more focused on the truck than the cowardly inhabitants of the home. He let out a sigh.
Clyde climbed up into the passenger seat beside Gary and cracked the window, lighting a cigarette. His hands had a slight tremble to them and he was drenched in sweat. “I don’t know how to feel about what just happened.”
Gary noticed Clyde’s anxiety.
“They could have warned us about the men at the dealership.” Gary wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “But they didn’t. They waited until there was no sign of us and then tried to steal from us.”
Clyde nodded. “Yeah, but I still don’t know how to feel about it.”
Gary didn’t respond. He thought of Veronica and Catherine; God only knows what was happening to them. He thought of Ben, dead in that parking lot. He imagined the skinheads pissing on his dead body… or perhaps something even worse happening to it. He felt his skin grow hot with rage as he thought of Michelle, and the sociopath who’d been hidden behind those beautiful almond eyes this entire time.
How could she do this to us? He shook his head suddenly and convinced himself that he couldn’t get caught up over Michelle. Not now, not ever. They weren’t going back there for her. They weren’t fighting to survive for her.
“You don’t feel anything.” Gary finally answered Clyde. “You just can’t feel anything at all.”
IV
Aside from the thud of eaters rolling under the truck’s tires when Gary plowed into them, the ride back to the Emerald City Resort was fairly quiet. Clyde remarked here and there about the state of decay of everything. He’d been preoccupied in the back of the truck on the trip out that morning. But now that the grizzly car accidents and gutted storefronts were in clear view, he couldn’t help but be reminded of Columbia Beach and his small apartment in the city.
“It was still early,” he mumbled.
“What was?” Gary asked him, eyebrows raised.
Clyde hadn’t even realized he’d spoken aloud and looked at Gary, a puzzled expression painting his face.
“You said it was still early,” Gary reminded him.
Clyde shook his head, slightly embarrassed.
“Oh. I was just thinking about my old apartment in the city, back when all this mess first started up. It was crazy, people killin’ each other right outside my kitchen window. Lootin’ anything and everything they could get their hands on. But it was still early. We left; I never got to see how bad things could get while I was there.”
Gary nodded as he listened.
“I’m sure it’s worse than this back home. I can only imagine what further downtown was like, or shit, the hospital. Probably lookin’ like a warzone… even compared to all of this.” His eyes moved from one burned down structure to the next as the truck passed by.
Fires gone unchecked for too long had quickly consumed every nearby home and business until there was nothing close enough left to burn. Their charred remains were grim reminders of what once was, but never would be again. The city streets almost seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, which would have normally brought a smile to Clyde’s face, but he knew better than to think there had perhaps been a glitter and fun-filled parade marching its way down these streets. Everything was covered in glass, and no matter where he looked, there wasn’t a window still intact along this road.
“I left my apartment door unlocked when we left. I guess as a goodwill gesture to anybody out there that was lookin’ for a safe place to crash.” He shrugged. “Lawd help ‘em if anybody still alive in that city.” He felt the familiar sting of tears force themselves into his eyes. “Ben saved us. Veronica, she don’t even know it, but she saved us, too.”
Gary reached out and placed a hand on Clyde’s shoulder. “Ben knew. And Veronica, you’ll get the chance to tell the Little Love, I promise.”
Clyde managed a smile and looked over his shoulder at his brother.
Andrew sat on the floor toward the back of the truck, tossing the chef knife back and forth between his hands. He felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up. He mustered up a fake smile and Clyde turned back around to continue staring through the windshield.
Andrew sat in silence and prayed.
I lost my way, Lord. I lost my way when the devil took her from me and thought you were punishing me for my selfish ways. The dead rising, the dead walkin’ around, I know this is your way of testing your children, I know that now. It’s our chance to find our way back to you, Lord, I know that now. And I am unafraid. We lost one of our own today, Lord, but I know you have brought him home and that you have shown me the path to forgiveness, you have brought the evil into the light. Please forgive us all for what we’ve done. I am your soldier. I will serve you until you see that it is my time to be taken from this earth. Amen.
For
every time that the sun streaked through the back window and glinted off the chef knife’s blade, he took it as a sign from God that he wasn’t alone, and that he had indeed been forgiven. He turned his face up to the small window and squinted into the sun.
Thank you.
Gary slowed the truck as they neared the parking garage. He handed Clyde his enormous key ring. “Pull up the gate.”
Clyde pointed at a few wandering eaters across the road, heading for the truck.
Gary scowled at the dead. “Ignore them. Let’s just get inside.”
Clyde hopped out of the vehicle and jogged toward the gates of the massive parking garage. He crouched down and slid the key into the lock; it turned smoothly and he pulled up on it hard as he stood. It clattered upwards and Gary pulled the truck in. Clyde jumped slightly, catching the bottom of the gate and pulled it back down, locking it in place as an eater slammed into it.
The thing gripped at the gate and growled, its teeth clacking together with each snap of its jaws.
“Sorry, kitchen’s closed!” Clyde called out as he returned to the passenger seat.
They drove up to the eleventh floor and parked, the engine finally falling silent. Clyde exited the truck once more and lit up a cigarette, pulling his long hair from its ponytail. He shook it out and scratched at his scalp through his matted, tangled braids.
Damn, he thought, that feels good.
Andrew laughed as he watched his brother massaging his own head and scratching at it like a puppy. He remembered when he was a kid he’d do the same thing right before bed.
“You getting sleepy on me, bro?” Andrew called out and Clyde smiled. “You should probably think about shavin’ that mess off.”