Belinda’s is a superstore, kind of like a Super Target joined with a Dillard’s, only without any groceries. In the old days – yes, I’m so old… no, I mean before the world died – Belinda’s was brightly lit. Now it’s dark but with a wide sweep of my large flashlight, I can see glimpses of its past shine. The aisles are wide and the white floors still gleam. Small white pedestals, similar to the columns of a Roman building, mark each intersection.
“Let’s sweep through the store first and look for zombies.” I turn left.
“Okay,” Cassie agrees.
We walk past the DVD and game section, all of the boxes still neatly placed on black bookshelves. The movie section is carpeted, and if you look closely you can see fake popcorn printed on it, just like the corn was spilled all over the floor. I lead Cassie past the electronics section where large TVs with blank, black screens stare into the store like unmoving eyes.
I start moving my flashlight around, raising on tiptoe every few steps as Cassie giggles at my antics. Really, it’s serious – I’m trying to find zombies – but I guess it looks kind of funny.
I grab hold of her arm to keep her near me when we pass the toys.
“Sweep first,” I remind her. She almost has to do the same thing with me when we pass the shoes, but I’m good and walk past.
The silence of the store is uncanny. I want to sing, dance, anything to make noise, fill up this empty store with remembrances of how it used to make me feel. I glance sideways at Cassie, but I just can’t do it. What if she thinks I’m weird?
I rush us through the clothing section. I know that’s bad – zombies could very well be hiding in here – but it’s so big and I just want to shop. I have Cassie crawl on the floor and I walk on tiptoe, and we move like that through the tight areas between silver racks full of clothes. Oh my God, there won’t be a new season of clothes, will there?
Finally, we’re back at the front again. I sigh; no zombies in sight.
I smile. “Okay, go shopping, girl. You can stay with me or have at it.”
“Nice!” She smiles back and runs toward the toys.
“Meet up at shoes in about an hour!” I shout after her and she waves at me. I watch her run into the darkness, hoping our sweep was thorough enough.
Chapter 7
I head back to the clothing section. I take my time, slowly circling through the jeans and tops, looking for things that might be interesting. This area is carpeted as well, and even in the old days the recessed lighting was so dim as to be almost worthless. I guess they didn’t want you to realize how horrible some of the clothes were. Really, do girls over five need big bows on their shirts?
My circling of the racks is a delay. I know they still have it. I know because I’d been watching it since before everything went south. I’d seen it on the last real day of normality.
Slowly, I go around the corner and there it is: a blue formal with spaghetti straps and a skirt length which hits me just above the knee. The blue is shimmery, a bit metallic, and the texture of the fabric is slippery on the outside and soft on the inside.
I’d been saving money to buy it for two months before everything went to hell. The time for the spring formal came and went without anyone caring—except for me, of course. Yes, when the world is ending, of course you still hold a dance! When else?
I reach out a hand and touch the dress, enjoying the feel of the cloth. I smile and then collect the rest of the outfit. I float back to the dressing rooms, where they have a walk-on platform surrounded by glass that’s meant for girls to try on formals while their moms watch. My mom is nowhere nearby, but I have the dress.
I change in one of the dressing rooms and go to the platform. I place flashlights all along the bottom so it looks like I’m on stage at a fashion show before I step up and look at my reflection in the mirrors.
The dress sparkles from the lights, the color shifting between a deep metallic blue and a regular blue. I’m wearing a pair of shiny black, patent-leather Mary Janes with a heel which isn’t too thick and isn’t too skinny. I have on a pair of cream-colored pantyhose that matches a string of creamy pearls I found in the jewelry section.
I’d planned on wearing my hair up for the dance, but now I’ve just brushed it out. My dark brown hair drapes over my shoulders, looking gorgeous next to the blue of the dress even though my hair isn’t as naturally wavy as my mom’s. My skin is as pale as ever, and the dress emphasizes the blue-green of my eyes.
Nothing can hide my big nose, though.
I sigh and put my hands on my waist. I cock one hip out, put my head down, and peer up through my hair, just like I saw on a modeling show. Then I shift positions, angling one leg neatly in front of me. I raise my head and extend my hand, smiling.
“I’d love to dance with you, Tommy.”
“Who’s Tommy?”
I yelp. The little demon has snuck up without me seeing her in the mirrors. I turn neatly on one heel (like I practiced!) to find Cassie grinning at me. She’s covered in fake tattoos, some of the ones on her arm overlapping each other.
“What happened to you?”
“Like ’em?” She extends one arm. She has dragons, hearts and tribals wrapped around each other and there’s a giant butterfly on her cheek. “I wasn’t allowed to have them.”
“Boy, I can tell.” I can’t help smiling, but I manage not to laugh.
She giggles. “So, who’s Tommy?”
I turn back to the mirror and see the blush rising on my face. “Just a guy from school.” I play with my skirt a little.
“Ahhh.” She steps up on the dais and lightly touches my dress. “Nice dress.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. You can look real nice when you’re not covered in black.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks. Let’s go get dinner.”
After changing, I let her go ahead of me so she can’t see when I slip a wad of cash onto one of the cash registers on the way out. Hey, I worked hard and saved up a long time for that dress. It’s the point of the thing.
Belinda’s doesn’t have a restaurant, so we go to the mall’s food court. I’m a little anxious about going to another huge gathering place, but fortunately there hasn’t been another mass suicide there. I slide over the Subway counter. God, this is so cool. I never would have been able to do something like this in the old days. The meat’s pretty much gone bad, but I grab some bread and chips.
We eat on the floor of the court, amongst a forest of tables and chairs. Geez, if there weren’t dead bodies around, I would totally run willy-nilly through this mall. Of course, that would just confirm to Cassie that I’m crazy. Then again, it’s hard to take her seriously when she has a giant green butterfly on her cheek.
After dinner, we head back to Belinda’s. I figure it’s as good a place as any to spend the night. I lead the way past employee lockers, and then a break room complete with a microwave and sink. The white hallway is decorated with those ridiculous teamwork posters full of cliffs and mountains. At the end of the hall is a set of stairs with a steel door at the top. Thinking why not, I go up the stairs with Cassie right behind me.
I pause at the top with my hand hovering over the door handle and look at Cassie. She just shrugs, so I yank on it and what do you know, it’s unlocked.
I expect a zombie to jump at me right away but it doesn’t happen. Instead, I walk into the room and scan the darkness with my flashlight. That’s when I hear the moan. I swing my light in that direction and reveal a zombie running at me full-tilt with its mouth wide open and hands outstretched. I scream and drop the flashlight.
Chapter 8
The zombie grabs my arms and plows into me with such force we crash to the floor. I can’t see its mouth. Oh, God, I can’t see its mouth! It’s going to get me!
I squirm, trying to keep away from it while I’m reaching for the knife at my belt. It’s got to be close. Oh, God, come on!
Then I hear a whack and the weight of the zombie slips away. I hear two more th
unks and then bright light shines in my eyes.
“I can’t see!” I hold a hand in front of me.
“Sorry.” Cassie points the flashlight in a different direction. She’s standing to my left with a bat in her other hand. The empty-head’s on the floor just in front of my feet, its arms wide and curled on its side. It’s wearing a red checkered flannel shirt and khakis. Wet, jet-black hair is plastered to the side of its head and black eyes are riddled with the cracks of the virus. As I watch, its head shifts.
“You need to kill it,” she says.
I get up slowly, feeling like I have something sharp in my blood, like acid or poison. I hate this feeling. Cassie shines the light on the zombie. Its eyes track us, and then it moans while one hand grabs the air in front of it. In a few seconds, it will get up again.
I hold out my hand and Cassie gives me her bat. I get a good grip, widen my stance, and thwack the zombie until my arms hurt and there is no spark in its eyes anymore.
I drop the bat and fall to my knees, gasping for air.
“Why didn’t you use the gun?” Cassie asks. She’s talking about the handgun I’d picked up at the sporting goods store. It’s still firmly in the black holster at my side.
“I’ve never shot one before. What if I missed and hit you?” I say that because it sounds reasonable, but in reality, when everything was happening I forgot I had it. Why did I remember the knife but not the gun?
She nods, her eyes on the zombie. Then she looks at me and I see very little of a kid in those eyes. “Can I have a gun now?”
“Can you shoot?”
“No. But neither can you. And –” She motions to the zombie. “What if you’re not here?”
She has a point. She doesn’t have the strength to kill a zombie with a bat. In this case, it would have gotten her.
“You’re right. We’ll get you one tomorrow. Now, let’s clean up this mess.”
We drag the zombie down to the employee break room, and the whole process is disgusting. The skin keeps sliding away under my fingers, dipping them into rotting slime which shouldn’t ever be touched.
“Ugh,” Cassie says as she drops her half. “Oooohhhh.” She turns in little circles, waving her hands and doing a heebie-jeebies dance.
“C’mon, there still might be some water in the faucet.” We wash our hands in the water, scrubbing without soap in an effort to wash off the slimy feeling. No such luck.
I lead the way back up to the steel door and step inside, swinging my flashlight over the entire room, expecting another empty-head to jump out. I slowly let out my breath as the room appears to be truly zombie-free. There’s a noise in the room I hadn’t noticed before, but frankly I was distracted last time.
“Hey, what’s this?” Cassie points to a weird little black and red box with wheels.
“I think it might be a generator.” I return to the door, using the flashlight to find and flip the room’s switch. The room floods with bright white light. I blink, fighting the urge to hold out my arms and wash myself in it. Blessed electricity. It’s been ages.
Cassie whoops, jumping up and down.
“Hey, I’ll be right back,” she says and runs out the door.
“Be careful!” I call out after her.
I just stand there for a few minutes, drinking in a world filled with something other than darkness or sunlight. If I stand just right, I can look out the stairwell and pretend everything’s just fine. Maybe I’ve gotten nabbed for shoplifting – or better yet, met a cute security guard – and in a few minutes I will go back down and continue shopping.
The noise from the generator is beginning to get on my nerves. It sounds like a lawnmower. I sigh and wheel it out on the stairwell. It barely fits. Cassie’s going to have to squeeze by it, but at least the door will act as an extra barrier to the noise during the night.
I turn and look at the room. The walls are painted that dull gray security color. A bank of monitors is on the far side, as well as a chair and desk with a set of controls. Squeezed on the end of the desk are a black microwave and a small white refrigerator. Then there’s a large brown bookcase full of canned food and microwaveable dinners.
To the left of me is a small bed with the covers thrown back, like the owner has just gotten up to go to the bathroom. At the end of the bed is an unzipped black suitcase, filled with underwear, shirts and jeans. My throat seizes up, looking at the suitcase. Someone’s prepared this room for a long stay.
Chapter 9
I wonder who stocked this room so well. Was it the zombie? Had he locked himself in here and then turned? Or did it attack him and he’d been able to trap it in here before wandering off himself?
I’m thinking about turning the monitors on when Cassie bounces back into the room.
“Hey,” she says. She’s shining with happiness and holds something small and black in her hand.
“What’s that?”
She opens her hand, revealing a PlayStation Portable, or PSP for short. I can’t help but smile. “Something else you were forbidden?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I was going to get one if my final grades were good enough.”
“Were they?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes.
“Plug it in and get it charging.”
“I can’t play it right away?”
“No, it’s got to charge for a while.”
“Oh.” The shine leaves her, shrinking down like a balloon when the air’s being let out.
“Let’s stay long enough to make sure you can play for a while.”
She grins at me. “Thanks!”
I close the door, making sure to keep the generator going, and lock it. When I turn around, Cassie has her head in the fridge.
“We should have had dinner here,” she states. “Ooh, Delilah, ice cream!”
“Really?” I peer around her shoulder.
“Yeah.” She grabs an orange sherbet push-up and wisely gets out of my way.
“Oh, you’re right.” The freezer portion of the refrigerator has push-ups, ice cream sandwiches and popsicles. I really like whoever stocked this room.
I grab a sandwich and sit on the floor, and then think of something. I reach into my pocket and pull out my best Christmas gift ever: my own cell phone, chock full of my favorite music. I turn it on because now it doesn’t matter if the battery runs low; I’ll just juice it up tomorrow before we leave. I set the music to play randomly.
“Ahhh,” I say as Fergie’s voice fills the room. Cassie laughs. I peel back the paper on my sandwich and slowly lick the sides, savoring the cold vanilla. I close my eyes, eating the vanilla and chocolate so slowly that bits of vanilla ice cream run down my hand. I open my eyes and lick my hand, enjoying every last drop.
Then I notice Cassie staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
She giggles. “You’re acting like a cat.”
A part of me freezes up, wondering if she’ll make fun of me now, but I try to act all cool anyway. I smile and shrug. “It’s good.”
“Let’s dance.” She puts her hand out as if to lift me up. “No, not with your sticky hand. Gross.”
I take her hand, but I do most of the lifting. I turn the music up and we dance.
Cassie dances like she doesn’t care that I’m here. She whoops and whirls through the room, just totally enjoying herself. Me, I can dance a bit, but I don’t act like that.
“You’re a good dancer,” I tell her.
Cassie actually blushes a bit.
“Thanks,” she says. “I like it. Like you like running.”
I think about it, swinging my arms in time to the music, and I realize she’s right. When I run, it feels so good that I don’t consider anyone else. Then I think about it. Oh, no, were people making fun of me while I ran? Did I look funny?
Then a good part comes on and I dance crazy with Cassie, just enjoying the sound of the music.
Eventually we tire out and decide to go to sleep. Neither of us wants to take the
empty bed, so we spread out sleeping bags on the floor. I keep one very dim light on, not because I need it, but because it’s so nice to have.
I wait until Cassie falls asleep then quietly reach into my bag. I picked up something special this afternoon when we were apart. Carefully I watch her as I slip it into my sleeping bag, but thankfully she doesn’t stir. It would be really embarrassing for a little kid like Cassie to find out I’m sleeping with a teddy bear. But it’s so nice and soft, brown all over with black button eyes, and its open arms hug me. I hug it back and hunker down into my sleeping bag, closing my eyes. Eventually I drift off to sleep.
I wake up screaming.
Chapter 10
In the dream, I’m fighting a zombie. Its mouth, stinking of rotted flesh, eaten and owned, is within one snap of my body. At first, I see the last zombie I killed, then the one before that, each face slowly morphing until I see my first: Jimmy. He grins, gripping me tightly, saying over and over, “Dork for dinner, ha ha ha. Dork for dinner.”
I shrink away and feel the flesh holding me slip and slide into a different texture. The zombie’s face is now my mother’s. Part of her is already rotting, green slime oozing from a cut on her face, her hair messed up to an extent that would have bothered her when she was alive.
She pulls back, looking at me.
“Baby girl,” she says while she stares at me like I’m something she owns. I shiver as she digs her rotting fingers into my shoulder. “Come home, baby girl,” she continues, and leans in for a bite.
That’s when I scream.
I wake up in the dark, panting. Cassie’s eyes are wide in the dim light, watching me.
“I had a nightmare,” I explain.
“Really.” Cassie rolls over and is back to sleep in minutes.
I lie in the dark and try to get my heart to calm down. Before I fall asleep again, the last thought I have is that I need to get out of here.
On Our Own Page 3