Infernal Corpse

by D. J. Goodman

  “Jesus Christ, shut the hell up,” Boris said. “I think I like it a lot better when you just stand around acting creepy.” He said this last word with no self-awareness or irony. Despite their situation, Angie had to suppress a small laugh.

  “So what, now we’re good?” Kevin asked.

  “Now you can’t turn into a zombie,” Angie said. “Hopefully. I could still be wrong, so I would suggest avoiding getting bit. But I wouldn’t call that safe. There’s still that whole thing where zombies like to rip your head apart and eat your brains.”

  “Oh,” Kevin said. “Yeah, I guess there is that.”

  “You’re all zombies already,” Kim hissed under her breath. “That what Big Pharma wants, you know. You’re now their willing slaves and—”

  Jasmine wordlessly hit Kim upside the back of the head. She finally shut up.

  Thirteen

  They took shifts of three people each. One each would guard the kitchen door, the front door, and sit in the light room at the top of the tower. The person in the tower had the most important job, watching to see if anything was coming for them out of the snowstorm that seemed to be slowly winding down. They only stayed up there for half an hour at a time, which was still way to long for those that hadn’t managed to take their coats with them when leaving the café, switching out with one of the others. They’d do this in spans of about two hours at a time while the others tried to sleep. After some arguing and finagling, it was decided that the shifts would consist of Kevin, Beth, and Rudy on one while Jasmine and Boris joined Angie on the other. Angie had tried to change this grouping, but for once the others asserted themselves and overruled her. Kevin and Beth wanted to be able to spend their rest time together, which Angie thought was a good way for neither of them to get any rest at all. She was at least grateful that she’d gotten Rudy to join their shift, as she expected he wouldn’t let them get away with slipping off with each other while they were supposed to be on guard duty.

  The other thing Angie objected to with this arrangement was that it put her on the same shift as Boris. This wasn’t so bad during the first two hours when they were actually on the lookout, but as she had been afraid of, he came to her once their shift was over and it was time for them to sleep. Megan was still asleep in the bed on the first floor with her mother sleeping on the floor next to her. Everyone had agreed that Megan would need more rest than everyone else if she was going to be functional when it finally came time for action, and without even having to discuss it they’d all come to the consensus that Kim was too unreliable to help them. While those two were on the first floor, the rest huddled in the dining room downstairs, since Angie thought it would be better if they were all close together in the event something went wrong. It would be much more comfortable sleeping on the beds on the second floor, but if the zombies found them it would take too much precious time running all around the lighthouse trying to find and warn everyone.

  This was where Boris found her after their shift. Jasmine, who out of the three of them had been the last one in the tower, immediately came down after being relieved, made a nest out of every blanket, sheet, and piece of clothing she could find, and huddled under it to shiver herself to sleep. Angie sat in the corner smoking and using one of the china tea cups from the glass cases as an ashtray. She’d been jonesing for a cigarette for over an hour now, but going outside at all was a risk. She hadn’t even wanted to light up in the tower for fear that the red ember of her cigarette would get caught by the mirrors and provide a faint beacon for the zombies to see. The inside of the lighthouse was supposed to be a strict no smoking zone, but she figured there probably wasn’t anyone left in Mukwunaguk who would bother enforcing such a law at the moment.

  She’d hoped that Boris would just come in from the front door and go to sleep, but he instead hunkered down not five feet from her. Something on her face must have warned him that she wasn’t in the mood, because he moved a little bit farther away before he spoke.

  “Can we talk for a bit?” he asked.

  “I suppose. Although I reserve the right to stop listening.”

  “I think maybe you have the wrong idea about me.”

  Angie raised an eyebrow. “This ought to be interesting.”

  “You seem to be under the impression that I’m some kind of creeper. I’m not.”

  “So those weren’t pick-up artist techniques you were trying to use on me at the café after all?”

  “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you. I just have never tried to get the attention of someone like you before.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “Well, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. Explain it to me. But if I were you, I would keep in mind that I’m currently holding a lit cigarette.”

  “Uh…” He stared at the cigarette, and although it was hard to tell in the minimal light it looked like he scooted a few more inches away. “You know, uh, someone who’s, er, bisexual.”

  She cocked her head, pretty sure where this was going, but not wanting to believe he was actually going to dig himself into this particular hole. “And what exactly would the difference be between catching the interest of a bisexual woman and that of a hetero woman?”

  Boris looked thoroughly confused. “They’re not the same.”

  “How are they not the same?”

  “Well, you know, you’re more interested in sex than a straight woman.”

  Angie looked at her cigarette and imagined putting it out on his arm. She would never actually do that, but the temptation was there. “You’re saying that because I’m bisexual you think I’m easy.”

  “Uh, no, that’s not the words I would use…”

  “You think I’m bi because I don’t care who I get it from?”

  “Well…”

  “And what, if I had sex with you, I’d see the light and make up my mind and never have sex with anyone else ever again.”

  “Hey now, don’t go putting words into my mouth.”

  “I’m bisexual because sometimes I’m attracted to women and sometimes I’m attracted to men. I’m not confused. It would not mean that I’ve ‘made up my mind’ if I settle down with one gender or the other. And my sex drive is no more or less than anyone else’s. Being bi doesn’t mean I don’t have standards. That’s why you’re interested in me, isn’t it? Because you think I don’t have standards?”

  “That’s harsh. You don’t need to be mean about it.”

  “I’m not interested in you and you weren’t interested in me until I came out. Then you started acting borderline disturbing. I know you think you’re a nice guy and I should see that, but you’re being possessive and entitled. The first time I subtly said no should have been enough.”

  He was quiet for a long time. When he spoke again, she expected him to have some witty retort, or maybe to call her a bitch or do one of the myriad other things that guys like him would resort to when a woman asserted herself as something other than a man’s property. To her surprise, though, he only said two words. “I’m sorry.”

  “I, uh, what?”

  “I said I’m sorry. Maybe you’re being a little harsh on me, but then again maybe you’re right. Most of that isn’t the kind of thing I usually think of.”

  She looked away from him. “Well, I have to think about it all the time. You’re not the only one who’s wanted into my pants without considering whether or not I wanted them there.” She took one last drag on her cigarette before stubbing it out in the teacup and then looking back at him. “Although I do have to admit you’re the first one to admit they were a douchebag.”

  “Hey, the word douchebag never actually came out of my mouth.”

  “Well, it was close enough.”

  “So what do you say, want to have sex?”

  She flicked her cigarette butt at him, which he dodged easily. “That better have been a joke, or else you’re not leaving this lighthouse alive.”

  “It was,” he said with a smile, although it disappe
ared almost immediately. “Do you really think we are?”

  “We are what?”

  “We’re going to get out of here alive.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Other than when you were bit, you’ve been handling this disturbingly well, you know that?”

  “I guess it hasn’t really set in yet. I’m still in crisis mode. I’m sure once we escape for good, I’ll be a gibbering mess.”

  “Kind of hard to believe, given what we’ve seen of you so far,” Boris said. “I have to admit, I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever be relying on a waitress as my leader during the zombie apocalypse.”

  “I don’t think it’s the apocalypse. Not yet, at least. Not if we can get out and warn the rest of the world.”

  “Yeah, well, the point remains.”

  “Watch it. You’re getting dangerously close to being insulting again.”

  “What I mean is, you’re not military. You’re not a cop. You don’t have any kind of specialized training for any of this. Hell, you’re not even a nurse that can patch us up. So why is it that so few of us in this group have died so far?”

  “I don’t know,” Angie said with a shrug. “A will to live? Seen too many zombie stories on TV? Or maybe it’s just entirely possible that an average woman in a small town can be, oh I don’t know, capable?”

  “Hm. Point taken.” Boris was quiet for several seconds. “Okay, I know I’m really at risk of sounding like a total pig here, but are you sure you don’t want to have sex? Because really, you can’t tell me that if we are going to die you don’t want to get some before you go.”

  “You really don’t know when to quit do you?” Angie said. “Yes, it would be nice to have sex before I die but no, never in a million years would it be with you.”

  “Just thought I’d check one last time. Out of curiosity, though, if your life did in fact depend on having sex with someone in the lighthouse right now, who would it be?”

  Angie’s mind flashed uncontrollably to Megan, although she didn’t let herself dwell on the young woman for too long. “Quit being gross already.”

  “I’ll have sex with you,” a groggy voice said from one of the corners. Both Angie and Boris looked to see Jasmine’s head slowly coming out of her cocoon of blankets.

  “Please tell me you’re not talking to me, Aunt Jasmine,” Angie said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Jasmine turned to blink at Boris. “So what do you say?”

  “Uh, no offense, Jasmine, but you’re like twice my age.”

  “So? Who cares? If we both die, it’s not like it will matter.”

  “No one else is going to die,” Angie protested.

  “Come on, Boris. You’re a young guy desperate to get his rocks off. I’m a more mature woman that knows what she’s doing and would like an orgasm or two before I die.”

  Angie looked back at Boris and was shocked to see that he seemed to be considering this. “You guys, don’t forget that in all the horror movies sex equals death.”

  Boris shrugged. “And yet somehow it worked for Beth and Kevin, didn’t it?”

  Angie didn’t need to see or hear anything else to realize they were both serious. She wanted to protest that they couldn’t afford people getting it on when they were supposed to be resting for their final escape out of town, but this was their down time, wasn’t it? And they were both adults.

  She wordlessly stood up as Boris and Jasmine scooted closer together and started making small talk. Thankfully, that was all they did until she was out of earshot. After that, well, that was entirely up to them.

  Angie went up the shaky wooden stairs to the first floor. Kim was snoring softly on the floor nearby. Megan, on the other hand, shifted in the bed. Wordlessly, the young woman moved aside, making room for Angie if she wanted to join. After some hesitation, she did. Neither of them did anything with each other besides huddle together under the blankets for warmth, but that was apparently enough for both of them. Angie lost consciousness, feeling oddly content given the situation.

  Fourteen

  Angie awoke about an hour later to the sound of Beth screaming her name from down the stairs of the tower.

  “Angie, get up here! You need to see this!”

  She only mumbled for a second about having to leave the coziness of Megan’s arms before she remembered what was happening and jumped out of bed. Megan sat up next to her, confused, while Kim was already up and staring through the door to the upper stairs. From below, she heard voices as Jasmine and Boris hissed to each other to get their clothes on so they could go up and see what was happening. Rudy stood at the bottom of the tower stairs, right by the front door, his hand tightly gripping Jasmine’s gun.

  “What is it?” Angie asked Rudy.

  “I could only see a little bit through the front door,” Rudy said. “You better go up top and see for yourself.”

  She ran up the clattering metal stairs, the entire thing shuddering under her weight as she went up them with far more speed than they were designed for. Her mind latched onto this, forcing her eyes to find the places in the walls and ceiling where the stairs were bolted it. This was nothing that would have passed a modern building inspection, and it was only allowed for the tourists with strict rules that they could only go up a few at a time, along with regular checks and maintenance on the stairs. It gave Angie an idea, a last minute Hail Mary they might be able to use if they found they had no other options left. She would get everyone preparing for it shortly if they had the time, depending entirely on what she was about to see.

  At the top of the stairs was a short metal ladder leading to a wooden hatch above. She climbed it and had to shove hard at the hatch to open it. A small amount snow had accumulated on it and nearly frozen it shut, but it gave under pressure and allowed her up. This led her onto the narrow balcony that surrounded the light room itself, and she held onto the short railing as she made her way over the slick surface to the waist-high door. She had to get on her hands and knees to get through, but at least it was already open. Beth had been waiting for her.

  The light room was a cramped, dreary-looking place, far removed from the romantic notion most of the tourists had of the beauty of lighthouses. There were mirrors along one half of the room, although they were there purely for show now as the high quality, super-polished ones were now shattered on the floor of the Mukwunaguk Historical Society Museum. The light in the center was also purely for show and could be turned on if there were power in the lighthouse, but the light it provided was weak and feeble compared to the lighthouse’s glories of yesteryear. As though to give one last indication of how far the grand lighthouse had fallen, long thick strips of flypaper hung from the ceiling, leftover from a summer that had given birth to a particularly tenacious generation of insects. Old Bert should have taken them down ago but apparently he had never gotten around to it and now never would. The strips were brittle in the cold and held hundreds, maybe thousands of flies and mosquitoes, but they were still sticky enough that Angie had to duck to keep them from getting stuck in her hair.

  “What is it?” Angie asked Beth. Beth, also crouched low to avoid the flypaper, was standing against one of the windows. The windows needed cleaning and the edges had a healthy growth of frost, but the snow had subsided substantially and it was still possible to see out to the main portion of the town across the small harbor. Beth pointed out the window.

  “What do you see?” Beth asked.

  “Uh, nothing.”

  “Exactly.”

  Angie understood what she meant. There should have been plenty of light coming across the harbor. Even if most people would have their lights off at this early hour (and according to Megan’s phone, it had been shortly after three-thirty when she woke up), there still should have been street lights. Instead, the entire town was dark aside from the red-smoldering ruins of the café and the museum.

  “How long has it been like this?” Angie asked.

  “About ten minutes. I
wasn’t sure whether to call you. It might just be the storm blew down a power line, but then I saw something else and figured you needed to come up here. I think this might be what we were waiting for.”

  “Where’s this something else?”

  “Wait for it. Last I saw, it was in the direction of the chopstick factory.”

  Angie waited for thirty seconds before it appeared again, although it had moved significantly closer than the factory. There was a flare of light as something bright passed between the warehouses at the end of the harbor. It was vaguely human-shaped and seemed to be on fire, but it was too far away yet for Angie to make out many details.

  That’s the owner of my mysterious footprints, Angie thought. That’s Pestilence.

  As startling as it should have been to see one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse walking around in the flesh (or whatever the hell it had), that wasn’t even the truly frightening sight. The glow cast by the figure temporarily illuminated everything nearby, giving Angie a view of the horde that surrounded it. And the zombie horde had grown large indeed. It would only be a couple hundred strong at the most, Angie knew, just as she knew that probably meant every single other resident of Mukwunaguk was among them now. Those of them here in the lighthouse were all that was left.

  And judging from the direction they were moving, every single one of them was coming this way.

  Then the glowing figure disappeared behind another building. Without its light, Angie could no longer see the rest of the horde, but there was no doubting it was still there.

  “Christ Almighty,” Angie whispered.

  “We’re not going to get out of this, are we?” Beth asked quietly.

  Angie’s first impulse was to blatantly lie and say that of course they were all going to survive. Her second desire was far more fatalistic, the wish to tell Beth that there was no hope and they might as well give up. After a couple of deep breaths, Angie instead decided to split the middle. “I don’t know. That doesn’t look good. But I’ve got an idea that might help us survive for just a little bit longer.”