When the Dead

by Michelle Kilmer

  The gang banger showed up a minute later and saw Garrison but not Vaughn who was hiding in the bushes.

  “Oh shit, man. What happened to you?” the skinny man asked his undead friend. Vaughn stayed in the bushes and pulled the trigger again, killing the gang banger. Another shot to the heart. Vaughn: 2, Anarchists: 0. He stepped out of concealment, smelling faintly of piss, and walked up to the body.

  “You picked the wrong friends,” he said as he tied a length of rope to his second catch. “As in life, so in death.” He left the tattooed man there to rise beside the bearded man and went to find the fat one. He was starting to have fun.

  “Here little piggies!” the fat man snorted, mocking the zombies. “All you do is eat, eat, eat.” And then he hit one in the head with the machete. Thunk. Vaughn could see that he’d already successfully killed around twenty of the dead in the short time he’d been working at it.

  As impressed as Vaughn was with Brick’s ability to put down the corpses in one hit, he was boiling with rage. The anarchists weren’t practicing what they preached. Their crowd control methods directly violated their zombie majority, no-kill policy.

  “Fucking hypocrites,” Vaughn whispered. He waited for Brick to kill a few more to make a clear path, then he pulled out a roll of duct tape from his cargo pants. He pulled slowly on the tape to keep the noise down. Selecting a length that he thought could wrap once around Brick’s fat head, he cut it with a pocket knife and ran up behind the thick man. As quickly as he could he covered Brick’s mouth with the tape and grabbed his wrists, forcing his arms behind his back. He used rope to tie the man’s wrists together.

  Brick bucked back and forth, giving Vaughn a workout as he pulled him around the back of the QFC. A semi-truck was still parked in the loading area. Vaughn tied Brick to its bumper and stood in front of him. Brick’s eyes were wide in terror and he struggled to get loose but Vaughn’s knots were tight and out of reach.

  “You can hear me still, right?” Vaughn asked him.

  “Fuuuuuhhh uuuuuuu,” Brick managed through the tape on his mouth.

  “You got a lotta meat on you big boy. And as you said, these zombies love to eat, eat, eat. Y’all want them to be well fed, don’t you? So they stay majority, right?”

  “Nuuuuuhhhhhho!” the man yelled through the duct tape.

  “So you don’t want them to stay the majority? That’s why you were killing them? I’m really confused. Tell you what; I’m going to leave you here to sort it out. ” Vaughn smiled, picked up Brick’s machete and threw it into a garbage bin. “It’s time to go talk to the head bitch.” Vaughn left Brick to die and walked the short distance back to the front of the grocery store.

  “Brick! You dumbshit, where are you?” the blonde yelled from the safety of her semi-circle. “Guys?”

  Vaughn could see that she was unarmed but he didn’t know how many dirty, bearded men were hidden within the store. There were too many unknowns but Vaughn was growing impatient. He was ready to play with this mouse before killing it. He took out his bowie knife and walked the outside arc of the vehicles, puncturing the tires as he went. He waited for her to turn her back and then he slid underneath the truck, stood up and positioned himself directly in front of her.

  “What the hell is that hissing noise?” she asked no one as she turned around and saw Vaughn.

  “The air leaving all your outside tires. I hope you didn’t plan on going anywhere.”

  “Who are you?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  “Why does everyone need to know that?” Vaughn sighed. “I’m from a building on the other side of Northgate, from earlier.”

  “I thought we got all of you.”

  “You missed me,” Vaughn smiled.

  “Well, the offer has expired. We aren’t taking any more people on so unless you want to die I’d recommend you leave before I get a gun in my hands.” She uncrossed her arms, readying them for a weapon to appear.

  “Call me a lone wolf if you like but I don’t need your company unless it’s for a fuck.”

  “I’ve got plenty of men if I need one. Speaking of men, what did you do to them?” the blonde accused and inquired in one breath. Her eyes looked beyond him, waiting for the shapes of the men to appear out of the dark.

  “Gave them a new life; helped your majority out a little bit. You are very welcome.” Vaughn bowed mockingly.

  Just then three men came out of the store entrance, all armed and angry. One man carried an extra rifle.

  “Rachel!” he yelled as he tossed the gun to her. Vaughn knew the war had begun. He hopped into the bed of the truck and back out of it on the other side of the circle. Two of the men walked closely together in his direction. As soon as they reached the truck and started over the bed he raised his shotgun and killed them both.

  “They’re as dumb as the fucking zombies!” Vaughn yelled. Seeing the undead coming from the other side of the lot he ran to an R.V. that was parked in the laager. The door to its inside was on the outside of the circle. He opened it and climbed inside. There wasn’t a safe place to dodge bullets inside the vehicle’s thin-walled living space but he could take one of them out if they followed him inside. The door handle moved and another brainless anarchist displayed his body for Vaughn to fill with bullets. The body fell on the hideaway bed and Vaughn exited the camper.

  While inside he hadn’t seen if more men had come out of the grocery store. The leader, Rachel, was nowhere in sight. He could see movement in the aisles of the store, torches being carried back and forth. He was reluctant to go into the building. He didn’t know the layout very well and there were too many places to hide, but he wanted a victory.

  Vaughn walked slowly to the front door of the darkened store. He opened it and the smell of rotten food hit him unexpectedly. He coughed and a bullet whizzed by his head. Dropping to a crouch he made his way to the checkout lanes at the front and waited for someone to make a poor decision. A soft glow was approaching from the back of the store. Someone with a torch was coming for him. He took out the silenced handgun and aimed for their head. He didn’t need any zombies in the enclosed space. The body dropped and the torch fell against a shelf full of chips. The plastic, engulfed in flames, melted and filled the air with thick smoke. Vaughn could hear coughing from the next aisle to the right of the fire. He moved to his right and lay on the floor, dragging his body on the smooth surface of the market. An anarchist sat in the aisle, his back against the shelf, coughing and wiping his eyes. Vaughn took him out with another silenced bullet. The man’s head slumped on his chest and a tear fell from his eye.

  A man dressed in a hastily-buttoned white shirt and dirty khaki pants emerged from the depths of the deli department on the left side of the store. His arms were up in surrender. “I’m not with them. I’ve been held prisoner. Please, take me with you,” the clean cut man said.

  “Take off your shirt.” Vaughn said.

  “What?”

  “Do you want to live? Take off your fucking shirt!” Vaughn said with more force.

  The man looked behind him for a second, as though he was taking commands from a hidden individual. He started to unbutton his shirt and just as Vaughn saw the beginning ink of a large chest tattoo he heard footsteps running up behind him. Still on the floor, Vaughn pulled his bowie knife out and flipped onto his back. A teenager in combat boots and a wife-beater jumped on top of him and onto the large blade of the knife. Vaughn rolled the teen off of him and withdrew the knife from the boy’s chest. The boy put a hand to the wound. Vaughn put the silenced gun to the teen’s head and shortened his dying time.

  “He was my only son! You killed him!” The man with the khakis had removed the white shirt altogether and a large Mexican gang tattoo covered his chest. “Rachel, where’s my gun?” the man yelled.

  A golden handgun slid across the floor and the man bent down to pick it up. Vaughn got to his feet and ran back behind the registers. A bullet grazed his shoulder.

  “You can’t aim very wel
l with that bedazzled thing; looks better than it works,” Vaughn taunted the shooter. He put his handgun away and took his shotgun from his back holster. “I’ve got some extra gems if you want to decorate it some more. Forgot my glue gun though.” Vaughn heard no response from the man so he moved back carefully to where he’d left the body of the boy. There he found the khaki pants man, holding his son and crying. His golden gun lay on the ground and he didn’t move to grab it.

  “Kill me. I want to be with my boy. I’m not staying in this world without him.”

  “I’m not going to waste my bullets on someone who wants to die. Kill yourself,” Vaughn pointed to the golden gun on the floor.

  “I won’t go to Heaven.”

  “You think your son is there?” Vaughn scoffed.

  “He was a good boy. You didn’t know him,” the man cried more over his son whose white tank top had become red with his blood.

  “I’m going to shoot you now. But only because I hate hearing men cry. I don’t believe in Heaven.” Vaughn withdrew his silenced gun once again and ended the man’s life.

  “I’m tired and I’m ready to go home. Can you all just come out and we can get this wrapped up?” Vaughn yelled into the aisles of the store. He heard the blonde leader laugh somewhere near the back.

  “Lower your weapons,” she yelled back. “I’m coming up there.

  “Lower yours,” Vaughn said as he saw her coming out of the soup aisle.

  “They are. You’re outnumbered anyway so I only see one end to this affair.” Rachel wore a smirk on her face. It didn’t matter to her that so many of her men died. She was still breathing.

  “I’m not sure of the count. Maybe I still have a chance.” Vaughn packed his guns away and shrugged.

  “Everyone out!” Rachel yelled at the top of her lungs. A giant blonde-haired man appeared from behind the floral department counter, he had a crossbow and he looked like he could be Rachel’s brother. He came to join her at her side. No one else appeared.

  “How many goons did you have? ‘Cause I killed, like, ten of ‘em.”

  Rachel’s face turned white. The man at her side raised his crossbow. She placed a hand on it and made him lower the weapon. “You killed them all?” she said quietly. “Are you special forces or something?”

  “Nope, just special. Now, can we end this?” Vaughn asked.

  “I can’t let you walk out of here after tearing apart everything I’ve created. You’ll have to fight Hans. No weapons, man vs. man, hand to hand combat.”

  Vaughn laughed at the man’s cliché of a name. “Like in the movies?”

  “Just like in the movies. Otherwise we’ll be here all night dodging each other’s bullets.”

  “Let’s go outside then, shall we?” Vaughn said as he backed up towards the entrance. Once outside he bent down to set his guns on the ground. Hans did the same with his crossbow, taking an extra moment to tuck his long blonde hair back behind his ears. Vaughn didn’t have time for games like this. He pulled a grenade he’d stowed in a pocket of his cargo pants out and pulled the pin, chucking the small explosive at Hans as he was still standing back up. Vaughn prayed it worked and prepared for the explosion by running to the pickup truck one final time to slide underneath it. The explosion rocked every vehicle in the semi-circle and shattered the windows of the grocery. Vaughn dared to raise his head above the truck to look for Hans but he could only find a few harmless pieces.

  Rachel had been blown backward against the hard cement of the building’s front wall. Her gun had landed too far away for her to reach before Vaughn was in her lap. She was screaming.

  “I come here armed to the teeth and you want me to punch a guy? Come on!”

  “But, that’s . . . not fair,” Rachel managed to spit the words out with blood and a few teeth.

  “All is fair in love and war and this certainly isn’t love, blondie.” He pulled his handgun out.

  “Really, though, who are you?” She coughed up more blood.

  “Let’s just say that I’m kind of an important guy to miss,” Vaughn answered. He removed the silencer from his gun and placed the barrel against Rachel’s head.

  “Ooops,” she said weakly.

  “Ooops,” Vaughn said as he moved the gun from her head to her heart.

  Role Playing

  If Vaughn could do things like leave the building without telling her why or where he was going, Hayden was going to do what she wanted to as well. She went downstairs to the common area in her skimpiest tank top and shortest shorts and lay on the couch, pretending to read a book, waiting for a man to find her there. She didn’t care which man it was as long as he was willing to play along. She heard an apartment door open and soon Ben had joined her in the room.

  “Hayden,” he said, acknowledging her as he went to sit in an armchair across the room from her.

  “You look tired,” she said to him, sitting up slightly to make her breasts hang and appear larger.

  “It’s not from a lack of sleep,” he said with a sigh.

  “What do you mean?” she asked as she closed her book.

  “You don’t want to hear about an old man’s pangs of the heart,” he smiled.

  “You are not old, Ben.”

  “Then what is it? Why doesn’t Isobel care for me?” he asked her with every expectation of hearing the answer.

  “She doesn’t know how to have fun. She is caught up in all the details and controlling every moment. There’s no spontaneousness.”

  “The word is spontaneity,” Ben corrected.

  “Oh, professor! I do believe I am in love,” she laughed as she threw a hand across her forehead dramatically.

  “But you are right about her. She’s too high-strung.” Ben turned to look out the dark window. “I wonder where Vaughn is right now.”

  “I don’t,” Hayden said.

  “It’s nice to get away from him for a minute, isn’t it?” He smiled knowingly.

  “He won’t be back for awhile if I know him at all. Do you want to come upstairs with me? Keep me company?” she smiled coyly.

  “Are you asking me to bed?” Ben asked her, wide-eyed.

  “Exercise a little spontaneity and come play a game. Can you get the keys to the Cooper’s apartment?” Hayden got up off the couch and walked toward Ben. She held a hand out to him and he grabbed it. His palms were sweating and he felt like a teenager again, walking to a dark room with a girl, not knowing what to expect.

  “Yeah. But why there?” Ben asked.

  “Let’s pretend we’re starting a family.”

  Ben snuck back into his and Isobel’s apartment quietly and found the key ring from the office. He took the key to 305 and walked with Hayden upstairs.

  “I’ve never role played before,” he whispered.

  “It’s not hard. Pretend I’m someone else.”

  “Isobel?”

  “Sure.”

  “This is only for tonight. I don’t ever want her to know about this.”

  “It’s my secret,” Hayden said and kissed him as he unlocked the apartment door. She led him past the nursery where she could see the crib and changing table in one corner and into the master bedroom. They lay down on the bed together and started to undress.

  “Tell me how beautiful our baby will be.”

  “She’ll be gorgeous, Isobel.”

  “Don’t say her name,” Hayden hissed and smacked his arm.

  “I have to; it’s part of the fantasy.”

  “Ok, well I’m going to call you Tom then.”

  “I’m alright with that. We’re Vaughn and Isobel and we’re making love and having a baby together,” Ben said aloud to try and make it more real.

  “Oh, Tom! I want you in me!” Hayden whined.

  Ben took a second to think about his response. “Will I hurt the baby?” he asked with concern in his voice.

  “That’s good, that’s good,” Hayden said. “Don’t worry. The baby will be fine.”

  “I’m going to enter you
now.”

  “Ew, don’t narrate it! Just do it! Fuck me, Tom!” Hayden yelled.

  Ben’s hands were softer than Vaughn’s. Hayden liked the difference even if it took away from the fantasy. She felt like she could be loved by his hands and, for a half an hour, she was.

  Proof of Death

  When Vaughn got back to Willow Brook he had a smile on his face, a graze mark on his shoulder and a gift for Isobel. He had wanted to do something bigger, like bring some of the zombies back with him to show the group but it was too much work and too many blocks to cover. He knocked on her door but no one answered, not even Ben. He tried the knob and it was unlocked. Inside, Isobel had fallen asleep in the living room. Two cups of cold tea sat on the coffee table. Where’s Ben? Vaughn wondered. The man usually followed Isobel like a loyal dog. He had to be there somewhere.

  “Oh well. I’m not here to see you anyway,” he said to the room. Isobel moved in her sleep from the noise. He didn’t want to wake her so he set down his gift, a lock of beautiful but dirty blonde hair, on the table along with a note bearing three words: we are safe. He left her apartment and made his way back to his own on the third floor. Upstairs, he passed Ben in the hallway.

  “I was just getting a snack,” Ben hurried to explain his being on the third floor. He couldn’t stop smiling though. He looked guilty of something.

  “Do you want me to tell you when I take a shit? I don’t care why you are here,” Vaughn said as he kept walking to his door. Hayden opened the door to the Cooper’s and stood in the doorway, she was wrapped in a bed sheet.

  “Goodnight Ben!” She waved at him, making him blush as he continued to the stairs.

  “Don’t you mean ‘hi Vaughn’? And why are you sleeping in there?” Vaughn asked her as he grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him.

  “Don’t touch me like that.” She pulled his hand from her jaw.

  He slapped her cheek. “I’ll touch you how I want. Are you coming over?”