“Kate, it’s me.” Michael’s voice. It gave her the chills. She sat down on the floor, hard.
“Where are you?” she said, then realized that that was a dumb question. “You didn’t answer your phone. I thought you were dead!”
“What? No, I’m at work, and you’re not.” He sounded irritated.
Shit, she had told him that she’d be at work. “The house is on fire,” she said. She was close to crying. He wasn’t dead. “I mean, was on fire. It’s out now. The firemen are standing around talking about the size of their penises.” She probably shouldn’t have said that last bit. It wasn’t going to make him believe her. She couldn’t help herself from making jokes. It was the only way to hold off tears.
“You’re shitting me,” he said.
She tried to think. “There’s a long story explaining where I was and why I’m not there, and the main point is that—” There was so much to say. He’d never believe about the Zeppelin. She wished she’d told him about Walter. Maybe then he’d believe her. “I mean, I think the fire is out. The fire department is there. That’s the truth. I’m at a neighbor’s house.”
“Look, I don’t have much time. Audrey and I are here at TJ’s, with Jordan, and we’re about to bug out and go to Alcatraz. You want a ride?”
She was touched that he asked. “I’m not shitting you. I went out, before, and it’s a long story that you won’t believe anyway, and I’m sorry that I lied about it, but there were zombies. We barely got out alive. And the house was really on fire, when we got back. I went in all Rambo-style, trying to get you out. I thought you were still in there.”
“Who’s we?”
“Um, this guy I know.” She stood, feeling shaky, and turned on the cold water tap in the kitchen sink. She didn’t want Trevin to overhear. “Seriously, I was on a date. No one you know. He’s a dick. I’m done. I’m never going to see him again. I mean, he’s nice enough, but—” This might be her last chance to talk with Michael. There was so much to say.
“Well, I went back to the house after dropping you off, and Audrey and I barely got away. They’re all zombies, Kate. Oh, God. It was terrible.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s my fault for leaving,” he said.
By which he meant it was her fault for making him go. For not staying with him and fixing things. “Oh, no.” She tried to process what he was saying. “Alcatraz? The Rock?”
“It’s defensible. Especially if you’re telling me that the house is burned down.”
“It’s not burned down, not exactly.”
There was a pause. “Oh, fuck. Shit, shit. I thought I’d put out that fire your belly dancer friend started, before Audrey and I had to run.”
“I thought you said they’d all been zombified? What fire?”
“That doesn’t mean they’re actually dead. She was smoking a cigarette, and she dropped it on the carpet. I thought I’d put it out. Fuck.”
“Yes, they are. Shit, Michael, you have to come to terms with that. They’re dead. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve seen. What I’ve done.” Her voice broke. He must be wrong. There was no way the zombies were still alive. No one could recover from that. “It’s my fault. I should never have left.”
“Yeah, well. They’re not dead. Why would they be drinking and smoking and dancing and shit if they were dead? It’s like they return to what they know. Never mind. Believe this. Audrey was acting all concussed, so I took her to the hospital, and this zombie comes into the waiting room. From inside the hospital. Audrey and I get out, but when I try to go back and, like, tell someone about the whip thing, because it worked with Cameron, you remember, the security guard drives an ambulance in front of the door. Total Gestapo shit.”
“And the whole waiting room full of people was just shut up with everyone inside?” Kate tried to understand. “And that wasn’t the Gestapo, that was something Roman. About a church burning down full of people, with locked doors. For all we know, the fire department started the fire, like some Fahrenheit 451 shit. A neighbor could have called because they saw zombies inside.”
He was quiet for a second. “Was anyone still there, when you went in?”
“I told you, I don’t know. I got pulled out by a fireman because I was about to pass out from smoke inhalation. That’s how much I care about you.” She realized what she’d just said. “And our friends. This is real, isn’t it? If they’re at the hospital, this has to be real.”
“So where are you, exactly?”
“At a neighbor’s house. This kid, Trevin, he’s cool. He gets it. We might be safe here, even. You could come here if you wanted. Or come get us. Or I could come get you. I—” She didn’t want to tell him she needed him. But she didn’t trust anyone else enough to tell them she was infected. Michael would be able to handle it. He’d be able to tie her up. “And why didn’t you answer your cell?”
“Long story. I’m a dumbass. Don’t have my phone right now. Or my car.”
“I have keys—”
“Shit, I gotta go,” he said. He hung up.
Kate was rattled. She started to call back, then stopped. There was no new information she could give them; no way she could help. She called anyway. They should at least figure out if he would come and get her and Trevin, or if they should meet somewhere else. The phone rang. No one answered. She called again. No one answered.
She turned off the tap. The crud on the dishes was softening. She picked up a bowl that had probably contained pasta. She threw it down on the floor, and the shattering noise was a balm. She did it again, with another bowl. It was hard enough losing her friends the first time around. Michael and Audrey were still alive. Who knew what was going to happen to them now?
“You OK?” Trevin called from the living room.
She was embarrassed to be caught in her tantrum. She wiped her eyes and went into the living room. Trevin was sitting on the couch. The TV was on, and he was changing channels. “I’m a klutz,” she apologized. “Was trying to be helpful, doing dishes.”
“Who was on the phone, your mom?”
“Friend of mine,” she said. “He knows about zombies. He’s freaked out.”
“Someone else from the Zeppelin?”
“Not exactly. No. But I should call my mom, you’re right. Excuse me.” She left the room, then came back. “Do you have any guns here, by the way?”
“Um, no. My mom says that the whole Second Amendment thing is misinterpreted. A free militia was about the states having armies, in case they had to fight the gizmet, for taxes or whatever.”
“Kismet?” She struggled to pay attention. She wouldn’t think about Michael.
“Government. Gizmet for short. Family slang.” He looked so scrawny, sitting on the couch. He’d turned the TV to CNN, which was showing an excerpt from a football game.
Kate nodded. She was thinking about kismet and karma. Whatever that meant. They had to do with one’s own deeds, and how they were punished or rewarded. Maybe she’d come back in another life as an animal, after this. Or a bug. A really ugly one that had no friends and was always hungry. She dialed her parents’ house, a number she knew by heart.
“Hello?” Her mother’s voice was so familiar. This was the woman who’d taken care of her since before her memory began. It was two hours later there; early evening already, and her folks would be home.
“Mom? It’s me.”
“Hi, honey. I recognized the 510 area code, and figured it was you. How’s California?”
“Not great,” she said. Nickel dime, that was what the deejays on the hip hop stations called Oakland. She went into the kitchen, conscious of Trevin in earshot. She sat at the kitchen table, then stood and looked through the cupboards. “You won’t believe me, and that’s OK, but you have to know that I’m not high, and I’m not drunk, or crazy. OK?”
“Honey? Hold on a sec, your dad’s home.” Her parents would each pick up a phone when she called, which always made her suspect that neither of them wanted to face her alone. It was a sill
y thing to think; they were raised back when long distance still cost something greater than minutes on a cell phone plan. It’d take less time if she explained everything once, anyway.
“Hi, kitten,” Dad said. He sounded tired, as he always did.
“Mom. Dad. It’s good to hear your voices. I miss you.” She found a dusty bottle of Jack behind the good china. There was an inch left. She drank from the bottle.
“We miss you too,” Dad said. He often spoke for both of them.
Kate took a breath. It wasn’t going to get any easier to say if she put it off. “OK, so, you have to listen to me and believe me here. You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’m not. I swear. Zombies are real. I’ve personally been in contact with several of them. I won’t tell you what happened; there’s not enough time. But I’m safe, at least for now. They’re not movie zombies, not really, but they’re definitely dead, and they’re out for brains. Or just flesh. They’re ravenous. It started last night.”
“Kate?” Dad said.
She tried to explain. Nothing she could say would come close to making someone else understand what she’d been through. She couldn’t tell her parents about the sex, so she skipped over it. She talked about Jamie, and the Zeppelin, and the women, skating around her relationship with Walter. Her parents were in the Midwest. For all they knew, Zeppelins were common in California.
They were quiet, after she’d finished.
“Are you OK?” Kate asked. “Um, how’s things there?”
“Fair to midland, as per normal,” Dad said. “Your brother’s got a new puppy. I raised hell, but he threatened to move out and quit school. So, now we have a new puppy.”
“No zombies?” She was disturbed at their reaction, as if they could just talk around whatever Kate said. Pretend it wasn’t happening. That was so Midwestern. Probably it wasn’t a coincidence that it was the Chicago news bureau that made famous that quote about “If your mother says she loves you, check it out!”
“The news hasn’t covered it at all,” she said, “though there’s something on BoingBoing, online. If you Google it, you’ll find it.” Her parents, though reasonably hip for being middle-aged, weren’t up on blogs. “I just wanted to warn you. Tell you I love you.”
“Love you too, hon. The puppy’s name is Shazam,” Mom said, not skipping a beat. “It’s a black retriever. Really cute. You should hear your brother, like a new mom, talking about putting down the puppy for a nap. Giving him soft food.”
“It’s like training for having a baby,” Dad said.
“Or a girlfriend,” Mom added.
“Except you don’t really have to put them down for naps.”
“That just happens naturally.”
They were at it again. There was nothing worse than hearing your parents flirting. Except for when they were doing it while they weren’t listening to something important you were telling them.
“That was part of the deal for him getting a dog—that he would take care of it, and clean up after it,” Dad said. “We haven’t had a dog in years. It reminds me of Jonah, back when you were little, remember? Anyway, they’re going to a training class starting next week. Mostly, I think, to teach your brother how to train him.”
“Dad. Mom. I want you to stay inside. Maybe this is contained to the Bay Area, whatever’s causing it, but I’m worried about you.”
“Katie,” Dad said. She could tell he was trying to be careful. Dad was a little more likely to believe her. “Maybe you should take some time off of work, or something. I could send you some money.”
“No, that’s not what I want. If I did, I’d just ask. I want you and Mom and Jake to be safe. Stay inside. Maybe it’s just a Bay Area thing, but you know how fast the swine flu traveled. Is he home?”
“No, he’s at the gym. The puppy’s here. Want to say hi?”
She didn’t have time to protest. Kate listened to silence. “Shit-breath, listen,” she said into what was presumably the dog’s ear. She didn’t care if her mom, on the other phone, heard her swear. “Bark a lot, and bite the zombies.” Then she imagined a zombie dog. Maybe the infection would go the other way, if a zombie were bitten. “Strike that,” she said. “Just bark a lot. Look big.”
“He’s a cutie,” Dad said. “You should see his paws.”
“Humor me and stay inside for a few days,” she said. “And check out the website. BoingBoing. I have my phone with me. Call if anything happens. And I love you. I gotta go.” She listened to their love yous and goodbyes, then hung up. She felt lost. It was hopeless. Maybe she should have told them about the fire. They’d believe that, but it would press buttons that she didn’t want to press; the fire in the trailer where they’d lived a decade before she was born. Stuff was replaceable, but trauma lasted.
She turned off the kitchen tap. “You OK in there?” she called.
“As rain.” Trevin was looking out the window. “Kate?”
“Is it raining? I can’t hear it.” She went to look. She closed her eyes, counted to three, and looked again. A dude was walking past the house. Slowly. He raised his head, as if scenting the air. Could zombies smell? He paused, looking at the house. At that distance, she couldn’t tell whether his eyes were white. But his movements were awkward. He had to be one of them. Or else he was drunk, and you didn’t tend to get wandering drunks in this neighborhood, so far uphill. She closed the curtain. “It’s starting already,” she said. She wasn’t sure she was up for it again. At least it wasn’t one of her friends. “Stay away from the window. Don’t worry, they don’t move fast. I don’t think it’s a big deal if there’s only one of them. Just give me a few minutes. I gotta make another phone call,” she said. “Life or death, you know? My brother. Then we can go.”
“Go? Where?”
“Or we can stay,” she said. “I don’t know how much you know about zombies. I don’t even know that what I know is accurate.” She talked through her logic about how hiding in the house only led to hiding in the basement, and there wasn’t one. Out there, they might stand a chance.
Trevin shrugged. Teenagers could be so expressive. “How do you know Alcatraz is safe?” he asked.
“Because my friend Michael and I did the tour there not long ago, and it’s totally defensible.”
“OK. I’m in.”
“Cool. Would you pack some stuff?” she said. “A change of clothes for both of us. Money. Maybe a few sleeping bags, if you have them, or blankets. We need to be able to carry everything on our backs.”
“All right.” He left the room.
“A belt for both of us,” she called after him. “I mean, for each of us. I’ll sort through this emergency kit.” She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake in taking him away. Packing would at least give him something to do. She didn’t want him to feel useless. Boredom was the worst, especially during an emergency. They were just waiting. Sitting ducky. Waddling around the house. Still, they were safe, for now.
She scrolled through her recent calls until she found Jacob’s number. She dialed it on the house phone. Even if his skinny ass was pumping iron at the gym, maybe he’d answer.
“Hullo?” Her brother’s voice was unmistakable. He always sounded like he was just about to smile. She was relieved that he’d answered. People were talking in the background, but he could have been at a bar or a really loud library for all that meant.
“Hi. It’s me.”
“Hi, dork-face,” he said. “I’m at the gym with Erik. He says hi.” One thing their parents didn’t know about Jacob was that he had a boyfriend. Jake was still in the closet, despite her encouragement; he thought that as long as he was in school and living at home, he had to keep it secret so the parental units wouldn’t kick him out. She’d known since they were kids, and he’d finally come out to her a year ago. Erik wasn’t out either, and she got the sense that the boys were one another’s life rafts. She didn’t know if other siblings talked about this stuff; she and Jake never discussed sex, but they talked about their relationsh
ips. She had to tell him she’d broken it off with Walter, but there were more important things to say.
“Hi back. Listen—” She gave him a quick account of the Zeppelin ride. Every time she told it, it got shorter. She was skipping over important details. For the first time, she included the part about the two women in the bathroom hooking up before one started eating the other. When she’d told the story to Trevin and her parents, she only told the part about them turning into zombies. She hadn’t told anyone about what she’d had to do, after. Phone cradled between her neck and shoulder while she talked, she sat at the computer and Googled Alcatraz. The first link that wasn’t an ad was the site that booked tickets for the ferry. She and Michael had gone just after Christmas, when they’d both had some extra money. The ferry was the only way to get there. The last boat left at 3:55. She looked at the clock in the computer’s system tray. It was way past then already. There were no night tours tonight. She wondered how exactly Michael was planning on getting to the island.
“Wow,” Jacob said when she stopped. “No shit?”
“No shit.” She was starting to feel the shot of Jack. She wanted another already. But she needed to drive. She told Jacob about the previous evening. Without going into detail, she allowed that she had hooked up with Jamie, and had fooled around with Michael. And Walter, the next day. While she talked, she went back into the kitchen, still holding the phone against her shoulder. She put the mess of the emergency kit back into the box, careful of the broken dishes on the floor. She’d sweep later. Or never. If there were zombies wandering around, it wouldn’t matter if there was a little mess. She took the box to the table. She sat, sorting through the stuff while she talked.
“That’s really wacky,” Jacob said when she’d finished. “Doesn’t sound like you at all. I mean, the hooking up. Not passing judgment on hooking up; you just don’t seem to do it that much. I know you’d be able to handle zombies. But those women in the bathroom? The pink-haired zombie going after the flight attendant? Something weird is happening.”
The Loving Dead Page 17