The Good, the Dead, and the Lawless: The Undoing

by Archer, Angelique

  Haven nodded. “You and the glove boxes. It’s like the first thing you check when you get into a car.”

  Colin gave her a stern look. “Well, going through the manual can save your life. If you’re a rookie and you mess with the wrong wires, you’ll get fried. I’ve been doing this since I was a teen, so I know what to look for.” He showed her a tiny section of insulation that he’d stripped from the wire. “Now, you twist these two ends together. They’re the battery wires. They provide electricity so that the engine will run when you turn the starter. You’ll attach the ignition wire here to the battery wires. At this point, you’ll see lights, maybe the radio come on, but that’s not enough to go along your merry way. Strip the starter wire back a wee bit like you did with the battery wires, but be very bloody careful. I can’t emphasize this part enough. They’re live, and you damn well don’t want to get electrocuted. Touch the end of this to the connected battery wires light as a feather. You don’t need to be aggressive with it.” He cast a sideways glance at her and said wryly, “I know that’s hard for you. Anyways, the car should have started at this point. Give it a few good revs, and you can take off the starter wire. You might have to break the steering column after that because it’s normally locked. A little elbow grease has always worked for me, cranking it hard from side to side, but you may do some damage like that, so hot-wiring is more of a short-term solution when you’re in a jam. When you want to kill the engine, you just unfasten the battery wires from the ignition wire. Not so hard, huh?”

  Haven looked hesitant. “Can I try it on the way back? I think I need to run through it once or twice before I can confidently agree with you. That whole ‘you-might-get-fried-if-you-mess-up’ spiel kind of freaked me out.”

  He chuckled and gave the car a good rev. “Sure you can.”

  Luckily, the gas tank was almost full. Since they didn’t have a long trip to the neighborhood, Colin cranked up the heat. Both of them reveled in it for a moment as it blew out of the vents in warm bursts. It felt delicious.

  “I miss heat,” Haven said as she held her hands up to the vents. Her fingers were red and stiff from the cold. “You’re seriously not wearing underwear?”

  “Trust me, I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” He sighed and thumbed the steering wheel.

  “That’s so risky. What if a zombie...” When he grimaced, she stopped. “Never mind. I’ll make sure to keep an eye open for a pair of boxers for you.” She stared out the window. “Faith is in dire need of jeans. I can’t believe she’s been running around in that dress for so long.”

  “She stays inside mostly though.”

  “Yeah, she hasn’t been very helpful, has she?” Haven replied bitterly.

  He glanced in her direction and ran a hand over the dark stubble on his face. “You ever want to share what happened back there, why you’re so angry with your sister? I mean, it’s clear there’s some animosity.”

  Haven pretended to be distracted by something as they passed a thick cluster of trees. She clenched her jaw. “She’s the reason my grandmother was bitten,” she answered finally.

  He swerved the car towards a clearing of sloping hills. “How is that her fault?”

  Her insides churned. Realizing she’d never see her grandmother again made her want to vomit. “She was supposed to protect her. Grandma was almost eighty. When our parents died, Grandma took us in and brought some sense of normalcy to our lives. She managed to bring us joy when for the longest time, we had none.” Tears clung to her dark lashes like tiny raindrops. “She was the best thing that ever happened to the three of us.”

  Colin nodded in earnest. “From everything you’ve told me, she sounds like an incredible lady. I wish I could have met her.”

  Haven didn’t miss a beat. “And you would have if it wasn’t for my sister who was too scared to do anything when the house was overrun. She left Grandma to fight them all by herself while she hid.”

  Colin had to admit he sympathized with Faith. “Those things are scary as hell. I mean, who—aside from you—looks for a fight with something that wants to rip the flesh from your bones with its bare teeth and hands while you’re still breathing?” Reminiscing about the creatures made him sad, and he missed his father. “The first one I saw was my dad. I didn’t know what I was dealing with; I didn’t know what to do. I was terrified.”

  Haven stared at him coolly. “I’m sure you didn’t just stand there and do nothing like Faith.”

  “You weren’t there,” he snapped.

  Stung, she looked at her hands. She’d clearly struck a nerve. They rounded a corner, and the first of the houses came into view, tiny colorful dots against the horizon.

  “He was eating this girl on the kitchen floor,” Colin managed after a little while. “It was one of the most terrifying things I’d ever seen. When Dad saw me standing there, he came after me like a bat out of hell. I tried to run, but he cornered me. I didn’t even have time to think, and while my mind was screaming not to, that this was my dad, my body just reacted, and I stabbed him, but nothing happened. He wasn’t even fazed by it. I grabbed the girl and ran. I couldn’t face something I didn’t understand. I couldn’t stomach what I’d done.” He turned to her, and while his eyes were filled with admiration, his tone was somber. “Haven, not everyone is like you. They have different fears... maybe spiders, clowns, snakes, sharks. I don’t know.” He shrugged and added calmly, “I think a lot of people would put undead cannibals at the top of their lists. But I think I’ve figured you out. Your biggest fear is being alone. Without those you love.”

  Haven winced. Was she that much of an open book to him? He seemed to read her so well. After a few minutes, she shook her head. “I still think Faith could have helped her, not let her face those things alone.”

  Colin reached out and grabbed her hand, thumbing her palm gently. “Haven, you have to let that go. Haven’t you seen her? The guilt is eating her alive. She barely eats, barely sleeps. She’s starting to resemble a zombie herself. From what I hear from your brother, she looked up to you immeasurably. Maybe she’s not strong like you, but she has her own qualities that make her a worthwhile member to this group. We need people like her to remind us that the world is still good. We need to hold on to that innocence. But as long as she senses your disdain, she’s going to withdraw into herself, and you’ll lose her. You’ll lose who she was before all of this happened.”

  Haven couldn’t hold back the tears, and they flowed freely as he spoke. “I miss Grandma. So much. Every single day.”

  Colin pulled over next to the closest house at the clearing. He quickly brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I know you do. But life goes on. Maybe they’ll find a cure for all this, and we can return back to some semblance of the life we had before. For now, we have to keep living. I’m sure your grandma would have wanted that. And she’d have wanted you to be kind to your sister.”

  Haven knew that was true. “I know,” she whispered. “I know I need to talk to her and make things right. She’s the only sister I have. She’s my baby sister. I’m just struggling so much with what happened to Grandma, and why she’s not here anymore, and how she would be if Faith had kept her word and protected her.” She sniffled and bit her lip. “But you’re right, and I know it. I need to try with her. I’m just not ready yet.”

  “One day you will be. And if there’s anything I can do to help…”

  In spite of her tears, she smiled at him appreciatively.

  He touched her chin gently and then shifted his gaze to the neighborhood before them. The one-way street was quiet. They exited the vehicle and walked to the first house, choosing it as it was rather isolated from the rest of the neighborhood. Their boots crunched on the loose gravel as they moved forward. A modest brick structure with white windowpanes and a little white fence in the front yard, the house was quaint and inviting. Haven recognized it from her many practice runs during her training.

  Moving closer to it, they noticed that the g
arage was wide open, the door inside of it that led to the house caved in completely. Colin silently motioned to Haven to wait at the door as he entered the garage. She shook her head and followed him as he muttered something about “difficult women” under his breath.

  The strong stench wafting to their nostrils was the first hint that they were not alone. As they crossed into the living room, Haven involuntarily let out a surprised yelp when she saw three dogs surrounding a pile of bodies. The dogs turned to her immediately, their muzzles covered with blood and a clumpy brown substance. One of the dogs licked its chops and went back to feasting. They had a wild look in their eyes, although Haven noticed that two of them had once been domesticated and wore collars. Colin moved in front of her and waved his sword forward menacingly.

  “Get out, you filthy mutts,” he said in a low voice. When he charged them, the canine trio ran past them through the open door.

  Haven watched them leave, careful to avoid their dirty maws tinged with infected blood and tissue, but Colin was already investigating the source of their food. Several corpses lay on the white carpeted floor, surrounded by crusty dried pools of blood that seeped into the fibers of the carpet. For the most part, they were devoid of flesh. What remained held fast to the torn tatters of clothes covering their skeletons. One of the faces was contorted in what looked like a permanent expression of terrible agony. She briefly wondered if this person had been alive when the dogs arrived and if being eaten by a dog was any worse than being eaten by a zombie.

  She inhaled, trying to breathe through her mouth. When she gestured to Colin to scout out the different rooms and then meet in the living room, he nodded once and sword raised, entered the first bedroom.

  Haven was about to go into the master bedroom when the slightest of sounds made her stop in her tracks. A faint shuffle came from the adjoining bathroom.

  Not bothering to wait for Colin, she went to the door and listened. The noise stopped as soon as she neared the door. Putting her ear to it, she thought she heard a muffled, inquisitive grunt on the other side, but seconds ticked by, and nothing happened. Haven tried to clear her head of any distracting thoughts, wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her.

  “I need to start getting more sleep,” she said quietly to herself, loosening her grip on the tire iron.

  As soon as she spoke, the door vibrated violently. A hungry, cracked roar followed. Taken aback, her weapon nearly fell from her grasp.

  Her heart thumped anxiously. If she didn’t take care of the threat behind the door, the obnoxious banging and moaning could signal to others in the area that food was nearby. More would come leaving the chance of escape extremely difficult and dangerous.

  She took a deep breath and readied herself, her hand grasping the door knob firmly.

  Swinging the door open, she swiveled away from it, putting considerable distance between herself and the creature as it shambled out to greet her, its horrible stench wafting out to the bedroom.

  Huge and sturdy, the zombie lumbered towards her. Its eyes were ravenous, and what remained of its lips were turned up slightly, almost resembling a sinister smile. Its mouth was large and gaping, gray teeth gnashing together.

  It threw itself at her, but due to its level of decay, Haven had plenty of time to dodge it, her riding boot connecting with the ghoul’s knee. It fell to the ground unceremoniously, but shifted around to claw its way towards her legs. It moved forward eagerly, not even blinking as she ran to it and kicked it roughly in the side of the face. She grimaced when part of its ear sloughed off its face onto her boot.

  In spite of the grievous injuries the zombie had sustained, it still struggled to reach her, growling and hissing as she circled it. Colin had just entered the room in a hurry, sword raised, when she brought the tire iron down, embedding it firmly in the creature’s skull. Haven jarred it around for good measure, feeling the zombie’s brain matter turn to soupy mush. The putrid substance plunked to the floor from any crevice available, its eyes, ears, and mouth oozing.

  Colin leaned back against the wall. “Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Haven yanked the tire iron free and wiped the gooey contents on the carpet. “All in a day’s work. I take it the rest of the house was clear?”

  He nodded. “Nothing. I guess you were the lucky one.”

  “Oh, indeed. So very lucky. Finding a hidden zombie is like being the kid who finds the twenty dollar bill inside the golden egg during an Easter egg hunt,” she replied dryly.

  “Sure,” Colin answered, eyeing her suspiciously. “Crazy American girl and her traditions,” he grumbled as he sifted through the contents of the dresser. “Aha!” He raised his arm triumphantly, a pair of black boxers in his hand.

  “I’ll give you a moment then,” Haven said with a knowing smile before heading back out to search the other rooms.

  Shortly thereafter, they emerged with armfuls of warm clothing.

  “They aren’t the right size, but they’ll do for now. Did you see that there’s a basement?” Haven asked him.

  “I did.” He pulled on a hefty leather bomber jacket. “I love this thing. Where have you been all my life?” he murmured as he stroked the smooth surface of the jacket.

  Haven had changed out of her shirt into a dark blue sweater. Colin tried not to stare too much at the tight-fitting top that hugged her curves in all the right places. “I found all sorts of sweaters in the other room that should fit Faith and I. It feels great just to wear something clean.”

  He swallowed hard as she gathered her hair into a high ponytail. Ponytails were his weakness. Haven had nice hair, but being able to see the soft curve of her neck, the two little freckles that he wanted to be able to kiss so badly, drove him wild. He tried to appear distracted by cleaning his sword with a t-shirt.

  “I’m going to check out the basement. There could be some food down there,” she said, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. “Meet you outside?”

  Colin shook his head. “Right, like I’m going to let you go into a dark, creepy place by yourself.”

  Haven nudged him. “I can hold my own just fine, thank you.” She wrapped a warm scarf around her neck and tucked it into her leather jacket. “What do you think? Zombie killer extraordinaire?”

  “Yeah…” he managed. “You nailed it.”

  He followed her downstairs to the kitchen. The cupboards were unfortunately empty, and the counters and sink were a stinking mess, covered in brown, maggoty gobs of something neither of them wished to investigate further. Colin reached for her as she turned the door handle to the basement. “Haven, would you let me go down first this once? If anything is down there, it’ll get me first.”

  She opened the door and edged down the first step, wincing as it creaked noisily from the added weight. “Relax, it’ll be fine.”

  The stench of death was blatant, and she immediately wanted to take back her words of confidence. She instinctively raised her weapon. Cobwebs clustered at the corners of the ceiling, tiny spiders scuttling away as they entered the damp room. They moved their hands along the bannister and tread lightly on the creaky steps. Haven tried hard not to think about how much their situation reminded her of a scene from a horror movie.

  The darkness and dust prevented Haven from seeing the festering, crusty fingertips resting on one of the steps. They twitched ever so slightly at the sound of the pair’s voices and the vibrations of their steps. Haven was halfway down when the hand grabbed her ankle, yanking her forward. She screamed in terror before tumbling down the steps, her face colliding with the hard cement floor at the bottom of the stairs. Pain radiated from her nose and lip, but she felt immeasurably grateful that her leather boots had prevented the gnarled nails from sinking into her skin.

  Colin leapt down to her rescue, helping her to her feet just as a woman in a tattered red dress shambled out from behind stacks of firewood under the stairs. The zombie groaned and reached out to them. Colin stepped protectively in
front of Haven, waited until the zombie got close, and sent the tip of his sword through its forehead. Its eyes rolled to the top of its head, its mouth forming a perfect circle. He pushed it off the sword and ran back to Haven whose nose and lower lip were bleeding heavily.

  “Bloody hell, Haven. Are you okay?” he asked her, concern in his voice. He looked around, and upon finding nothing, took off his shirt and held it to her face. “Here,” he said, leaning her head backwards.

  Blood-tinged spittle dribbled down her chin. “No more basements,” she croaked.

  Colin gently tilted her chin up to him. “That’s a nasty split lip, Haven. The nose doesn’t look so smashing either.” He gingerly dabbed at the blood on her face until his eyes met hers.

  Their bodies only inches apart, Haven felt a jolt of electricity course through her, and her lips parted slightly in surprise. In spite of the freezing temperature and her broken skin, she felt warm and tingly.

  With his other hand, Colin reached around her waist and guided her until her back was against the stack of firewood.

  “Haven…” he whispered. He tucked her hair behind her ear, weaving her ponytail through his fingers, and gently grasped the back of her neck. He slowly pressed against her, needing her, wanting to taste her, to feel her lips brush against his. Haven stiffened when she felt him, and she closed her eyes as he gripped her, his fingertips digging into her hips and pulling them closer.

  He leaned forward until his lips were near her neck. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you.”

  Seconds ticked by until she suddenly turned away from him, steadying herself against a shelf.