Yes, the old house was a dubious shelter, but just then anything was better than being out in the open with the monster. And the very small size of the door was an asset: the monster would take forever to get through it and by the time it did, Jillybean figured she would be a block away and counting her blessing.
She raced inside and was immediately confronted by a choice: up three steps to the main floor or down an unknown number to a pitch-black basement where she’d be trapped and eaten in the dark, her stick-like bones later used as toothpicks. Not down there! wailed Ipes when she hesitated.
“Yeah,” she said, breathlessly and ran upward. She made it to a little square landing that was somewhat like a foyer to a small kitchen, when the monster hit the door with such force that the entire house shook. The door disintegrated and the light from outside was completely cutoff as the beast entirely filled the opening. Once more, Jillybean was confronted by a giant arm and a reaching, grasping hand. The craggy nails, alive with maggots, was shockingly close. She was only three stairs up and the thing’s arm was twice as long as a normal man’s and its hand was bigger than a catcher’s mitt.
The diseased nails were inches away from her pert little nose.
Jillybean had her back pressed to the wall as the fingers slowly got closer and closer. Once more, the beast was pushing through a narrow opening and once more gouts of vomit came pouring out of its mouth. Horrifically, it began grunting and chewing on the foul stew it had puked up.
It was such a sickening sight that her coltish legs gave out on her. She dropped and crawled into one of the strangest kitchens she had been in since the apocalypse had begun a year before. Other than a bowl, a spoon and two coffee mugs parked next to the sink, the counters were clean. The floor was dusty but free of shards of glass or broken plates. Strangest of all, the cupboards were all closed. It was almost as if the dozens of starving refugees who had ransacked the place had cleaned up after themselves.
Feeling as though she had crawled into a different time or a different world, Jillybean crouched even lower. In her mind, different did not mean safer and, after a brief hesitation, she scurried into a dining room which was nearly filled by a single long wood table and eight high-backed chairs. In front of one of the chairs was another bowl, spoon and mug combo, an open laptop and—Jillybean’s mind boggled at the sight of it—a box of Fruit Loops.
With the house shaking all around her and the beast roaring as it struggled to get in, she should have been racing out of there, however, the box of cereal held her in place. There was a yellow sticky note still stuck to it.
Eric,
It’s thursday so I’ll be home late. I hope you have a good day and don’t forget to tell Mr Reynolds about your appointment for monday. And for the millionth time we have the g-kids this weekend so don’t make plans. See you later.
Love-Alicia
The note made no sense at all. How was it still stuck to the box and how was the box still on the table? Here in the middle of the country, there had to have been at least a week of rumors and rumblings about zombies before anyone ever saw one. But somehow Eric had gone from eating Fruit Loops and worrying about the g-kids at breakfast to disappearing completely, possibly before the end of the day.
We don’t have time for this, Ipes urged. Grab the cereal and let’s go!
He was both right and wrong. He was right about the cereal, but wrong about not having time. She had stumbled into someone’s life, a life that had been interrupted, seemingly in the blink of an eye. It didn’t seem right to just step out again so easily.
“Lives are aposed to have meaning,” she told the zebra. This was a fundamental truth that felt like it had been slipping away from her more and more over the past year. Every adventure, every narrow escape, every death, every murder, every time she gave in to the immediate need of the moment seemed to have cheapened the idea that every life was precious. Not just hers.
Okay, yes, and right now it’s not just your life I’m worried about. There’s also Christian’s life. So, please grab the cereal and let’s get out of here.
She did, making sure to set the note on the keyboard of the laptop, thinking that if Eric ever came back home it would be something he would cherish. The note had ended with love, and that was something important to a girl who was starved for any affection.
As she stuffed the half-filled box into her backpack and the monster continued to strain the timbers of the house to get in, she wandered into the living room/ family room. Here was evidence of the g-kids. A colorful pile of toddler toys, looking as though they had been bulldozed into place, sat in a heap in the corner. Resting on the tv set were pictures of the g-kids: two blonde little angels that looked as though they had been carved from…
No more, please, Ipes begged. Did you hear that? It was a pan falling. You know that means, the monster is almost in the kitchen. Forget these Mayberry Von Traps and let’s go.
Even though she was no longer in much danger, it was sound advice. With a sigh, Jillybean went to the front door, turned the lock and pulled. The door didn’t budge. She threw her measly forty-six pounds against it only to bruise her shoulder. “What the hay?” She wiggled the lock back and forth in a growing panic when she saw there was a second lock below the first—it had no knob. There was only a brass circle and a keyhole.
A door that locked from the inside made as little sense as finding an untouched box of Fruit Loops sitting out in the open. Once more, she had that sensation of being out of sync with the world. In frustration, she yanked again on the doorknob before turning to her left. If there had been a garage, the door to it would’ve been right there fifteen feet away—but there was no garage. The Camaro had been sitting smack dab in the middle of the driveway, which had ended at the now destroyed gate.
“Out the window then.” This seemed like an obvious choice, however, Jillybean knew from experience that windows could be harder to work than they appeared. Many only opened partially or opened in a canted manner, making it very difficult to get through. With time crunching in, the obvious solution was to break the front window. It sat, larger than life, across from a dusty flower-print couch.
Jillybean turned in a quick circle, hoping to find a hammer sitting out with perfect convenience. The world didn’t work that way. The only hammer was plastic and bright red. Ignoring the toy, she chose a pot that had once held a living plant but which now held dirt, a foot-tall stick and a few curled leaves. It was about the size and heft of her head. She hurled it two-handed at the glass. There was an explosion of dirt, a donk noise and then the pot fell to the floor, where it broke in two.
The window remained perfectly intact. “Oh, for all darn it!” She turned to find something else to break the window with and found herself staring at the monster. It was stuck in the doorway that led from the kitchen to the dining room, its glaring piggy eyes full on her. The demonic hatred in them smote Jillybean. Panic began to fill her, only just then the beast withdrew from the doorway.
A moment of pure joy was followed by another of terror as the monster changed tactics. Instead of trying to push through the doorway, it hurled itself straight at the wall next to it. The house shuddered under the blow and a floor-to-ceiling crack erupted in the wall.
Do something, Jillybean!
Her mind had turned to mush and the only thing she could think to do was pick up the ottoman that sat in front of a rocker and charge at the window. At the last moment, she closed her eyes, thinking there would be an explosion of glass that could blind her. DONK! She hit the glass and bounced right off of it. Her momentum was backwards; she hit the side of the couch and fell over with the ottoman resting on her chest, still clutched in her hands.
She was in a perfect position to watch as the beast hit the wall a second time. Timbers blasted out of the drywall. This time the house did more than just shake. More cracks appeared: in the ceiling and along the hallway wall. The structure let out a deep, melancholy groan as if it were dying.
The
groan was swallowed up as the monster tore apart the remains of the wall and lurched through. Jillybean had already tossed aside the ottoman and was tearing down the hall to a terribly uncertain future. So many “what ifs” crowded her mind: What if the windows here were barred? What if they were painted shut? Or nailed shut? What if they were the canted sort? What if another monster had heard the commotion and was outside waiting to eat her?
What if she didn’t have time to even get to the window? This was the most pressing question.
Behind her, the wall crumbled to nothing and then came the Boom! Boom! Boom! of the monster’s giant feet charging after her. She knew it would hit the door and that it wouldn’t hold. The question now became: would the frame around it, the studs and the header hold long enough to give her a chance to escape?
No.
Emphatically, no. She knew it as she slammed the door shut and caught sight of the monster heading at her, filling the entire hallway with its bulk. It was terrifying beyond belief.
Hold it together, Ipes said in a calm Daddy voice. You know what to do.
Her hand was already in the side pocket of her backpack where she kept one of her Joggle Hoppers. There was no time for a real plan, there was only time for a split-second decision. The hopper had to distract the beast long enough for her to slip past it without being seen, so she couldn’t just throw it anywhere in the room. A closet would’ve been good; however, Alicia’s was so full of clothes that it was busting at the seams, and Eric’s was mostly closed.
There was also throwing it on the other side of the queen bed and “hiding” against the wall next to the door. It was fifty-fifty she would be seen. Her life would be decided by a coin toss. That wasn’t good enough. Which left tossing the hopper into the bathroom and hoping she wouldn’t be seen as she ducked behind the bed.
Having a small person’s mindset was the deciding factor as she threw the Leaping Joggle Hopper at the partially open bathroom door. It banged off it with a musical note that was torn asunder as the bedroom door exploded. The frame, the header, both the king and Jack studs, as well as three other studs were blasted in splinters.
The door held like tissue paper and the monster piled into the room along with a plume of dust, plaster and broken lengths of wood. Jillybean dove for the side of the bed. Despite being a master bedroom, there wasn’t much space for both a queen-sized bed and an eight-foot tall monster. It hit the bed with so much force that it slammed into Jillybean mid-jump and pinned her to the wall with her Keds poking out.
Don’t move! Ipes cried as the monster got to its feet, hitting its enormous head on the light fixture. “Don’t move” was great, but useless advice. The monster was so hellish that it drew Jillybean’s attention. She twisted around and watched as it charged at the very narrow bathroom door.
Again, the house shook and this time she felt its dying groan come up through the floor. And now there was definitely a lean.
The monster, black blood pouring from its head and with glass and wood in its eyes and face, had misjudged the exact location of the door and had smashed the wall right next to it, tearing through the drywall and blasting the tile on the other side. It swung huge haymakers, knocking down studs with every swing until it could march into the bathroom where the Joggle Hopper was bipping and bopping all over the broken tiles on the floor.
It lifted a tremendous foot and crushed the hopper.
It all happened so fast that Jillybean had only just begun to get her feet unstuck. She froze, her breath pent up in her chest. If the monster turned around, she’d be dead—it didn’t. With an echoing cry, it launched itself at the shower curtain and then, when that went down, it proceeded to pummel the wall around the tub. Jillybean could only guess that perhaps it was because it was used to the action by then.
As it destroyed the bathroom, she worked her feet free, climbed silently to a standing position and tiptoed through the mess the monster had made. She was just about to take off running when part of the hallway wall came down in front of her and there, once more, was the monster with it ugly piggy eyes. The two stared at each other for a moment before Jillybean sprinted forward. The beast punched a hand through the wall and managed to catch the side of her ghillie suit with a pinky. That smallest part of him was enough to spin her around and dump her on her bottom.
In a flash, she was up again, racing for the kitchen. She tripped and stumbled through the mess in the dining room, crawled through the kitchen and staggered down the stairs. Once outside, instincts kicked in and she went to one knee, pulling her ghillie suit around her. Behind her, the beast was tearing down more walls and roaring in fury; she had a few seconds to make sure she was alone, and to try to regain her strength. The little adventure had turned her knees wobbly.
Only when she had recovered somewhat did she begin to creep away, checking behind her every other step. The house was tilting back and forth, like a cardboard box as the beast went from room to room searching for her. The whole structure finally came down just as reached the chainlink fence that formed the boundary of the backyard.
“Oh my,” she whispered. The house folded in on itself, starting with the back end. In the still afternoon air, it was a loud implosion and she lost no time going up and over the fence to hide in the high grass beyond.
That’s one way to kill a giant zombie, Ipes said. Just drop a house on it like in the Wizard of Oz. Do you think it was wearing ruby slippers?
“I’m not going to go find out. They’d be all gross and…” She choked off her sentence as the house began to shift and move. She slunk low and watched in amazement as the zombie, bleeding in great torrents, fought its way free of the rubble.
Looking as dazed as Jillybean felt, it stumbled through the backyard almost directly at her. She froze, becoming Jilly-rabbit, hoping that her camouflage would render her invisible to the zombie. It wasn’t easy to hold her ground as it lumbered with blank eyes towards her. When it came to the fence, it ripped it up with barely a grunt. It then marched on, heading straight for a dark, reedy pond that sat across a dirt road.
When it got there, it plunged right into the murky depths until the water was up to its neck, whereupon it began to drink, slurping and slurping. It also fouled the water, first with its black blood and then with something that had Ipes regretting his lunch.
Everything it does is completely gross, Ipes groaned. I mean look at it. You can see it’s pooping at the same time it’s drinking. Remember the perpetual motion machine we were talking about? I think that thing is it. It could do this forever. Drinking its own poop and well, you know.
She knew. Jillybean was a light shade of green. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. Okay? Let’s just make sure we fill our water bottles somewhere else.”
How about Kansas?
“That may be too close. What’s the state that has all the polar bears and the penguins?”
East Dakota. Ipes was in mid-chuckle when another gunshot rang out.
6-
In a snap, the zombie surged out of the water, bringing half of the pond with it as it went charging toward the sound. It jiggled and wiggled in a sickening manner that wasn’t any better seen from behind than from the front.
Jillybean followed after it at a discreet distance. It wasn’t the only one of its kind; there were six other colossal creatures. As they all had huge, drooping breasts, hairy chests and tremendous rolls of layered fat that hung almost to mid-thigh, it was impossible for Jillybean to tell their sexes. It really didn’t matter whether they were boys or girls, their rage was equal to their size and they killed anything that got in their way and that included other zombies.
After passing a fifth body, Jillybean decided to get out of sight and she slipped into the furniture factory. It was a low brooding building made of dark brick. Other than a few offices that faced the main street, it was a windowless structure that ran the length of two blocks.
She expected it be hot and stuffy inside, however it was cool and dry. A heavy pine s
cent filled the air and she greedily drank in the aroma before she took off running along the factory floor, passing strange toothy machines. They lurked in a semi-dark. The only light filtering into the building was murky and grey, having strained through filthy skylights set every thirty feet in the ceiling.
It was dark and grim inside and yet Jillybean wasn’t afraid. The pine-smelling air was utterly still, holding motes of dust perfectly suspended as if they were frozen in time. More ageless dust coated everything in a uniform layer. It was unmarred by a single track. Not even a mouse had passed through the building in all the time since the apocalypse. She was alone, and as long as she didn’t impale herself on one of the machines she would be safe.
But being safe wasn’t really on her mind. Christian was in more trouble than he realized. He might be tough and brave against the normal monsters but the big ones were a whole other story. They were scary fast and immensely strong. Christian needed her whether he liked it or not.
Tucked into his place on her backpack, Ipes didn’t think so. He tried his best to talk some sense into her. This was his choice, remember? He is also a grown-up and he’s a big grown-up. He should be fine. No, better than fine. He’ll probably kill them all, no problem. We shouldn’t get in the way.
She wouldn’t listen. She ran with abandon, her ghillie suit streaming out behind her. More gun shots spurred her on past long, neat shelves of lumber, bins of scrap, bags of sawdust, crates of wood nails and screws, jugs of industrial strength glue and barrels of stain and varnish.
Where all the finished pieces were she neither knew nor cared. Her mind was completely on Christian…all except the part that was thinking of a way to rescue him.
The Undead World (Book 12): Jillybean & The First Giants [An Undead World Expansion] Page 6