Tabitha's Zombies: Part 1

by Carla Rossetti

  “Fat or skinny, it matters not. Bones make nice broth. And nice toothpicks. Besides, you can’t think I’ll let you scamper around the school anymore? Who knows what trouble you might get into?”

  “We’ve done well enough getting into trouble here,” Billy retorts. “But I think our unlucky streak is about to end.”

  “Oh, really?” The Blob asks.

  Billy looks at me and smiles. It’s wan, and not like an actual smile, but it’s good to see.

  “We’re very dangerous, Tabby and me. We’ve killed one of you already—”

  Me spitting: “I think you mean I killed one of them, macho man!”

  “Shut up, will ya?” Billy rasps.

  In a whimsical hum, “Then you must be very resourceful. Big brains, even? I like big brains. A succulent delicacy those are.”

  “No wonder you’re so ginormous,” I say. “All you think about is food. Try some exercise for a change.”

  “And I will. It’s fun to play hide-and-seek with little ones. We should begin now, wouldn’t you say?”

  We’re close enough to the wall that we can see it clearly. Billy and I put our backs to it.

  “Have any bright ideas, Mr. Dangerous?” I ask.

  “Don’t run into the center of the room. You’ll get lost. This gunk in the air—this BO—is confusing us, throwing us off.”

  “Not bad. But being sitting ducks is no better.”

  “Then,” Billy says, looking me sternly in the eyes, “we should hurry our butts, always keeping the wall to our right. Yes?”

  “Reasonable enough. Lead on.”

  We start, and immediately we hear a horrible laugh, spittle popping out like fire crackers.

  I point. “He’s over there.”

  “Where’s over there? He might as well be over there.” Billy points somewhere else.

  “Fine. He’s over there; but he’s not here, that’s for sure.”

  “ARE YOU CERTAIN?”

  Electricity surges through my body, and I spin myself to face a massive dome of hardened flesh, cracked and glowing. The hand, when it reaches my hair, touches a few strands and lets them flow past like smoke between leaves. Billy is soon pulling the cuff of my shirt, and I fall back into his arms. Now I’m being shoved upright in the opposite direction of menace, or so my mind tells me. My physical senses are useless. The voice is all around; and when it’s everywhere, it’s nowhere. Where is no longer a concept, as I stray from the wall, my only guide. And Billy isn’t behind me. He’s gone.

  EIGHT

  “Billy? Where are you?!”

  I’m screaming at the top of my lungs, and, like before, the words can’t reach him.

  “Billy? Where’s the wall? I screwed up.”

  There’s a buzzing in my ears. Something reminiscent of “come here” softly floats across to me. I walk towards it.

  “Come here, Tabitha.” It’s mellifluous. A little child’s voice. Maybe four-years-old. But I’m bothered. None of this makes sense, does it? My body decides to answer for me, walking me to the summons. The lilt is more inviting as I get closer. Nothing in the room seems bigger than toy blocks. Not a single obstacle stops me as I stride long to “come here,” and a stupid smile comes to my face.

  A child. A child is here. Wouldn’t it be fun to play? Play with a younger kid who doesn’t know the evil of the world. That’d be great! And I can share in that ignorance. Ignorance is bliss. That’s the saying—YES! Ignorance is bliss.

  The voice is right in front of me. I see nothing. Just space and floor, and a weird smoke all around.

  Puzzling at the air, Where am I? What is this stuff?

  I’m now turned to stone by confusion, forgetting my purpose.

  This always happens. I’ll walk into a room and BOOM! I totally go blank. I was looking for something, right? I’m sure that’s it. Or was it someone?

  I do a full circle.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  “I’m here,” is answered.

  I see her, a bright-looking girl with the darkest hair. She has pretty green eyes and long lashes; and is holding a doll in her hands.

  “Well, well, well. How do you do fair lady?” I ask.

  “Hi, Tabby.”

  “It looks like you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name and I don’t know yours.”

  “My name is Jessica.”

  “Nice to meet you Jessica. What are you doing in this dreary room all by yourself? Where’s your Mom?”

  “She’s—not here. But you’re here. I like you.”

  Taken aback slightly, I know nothing else to say than, “Er, I like you too, Jessica. You look like a very nice person. And who’s that?” I point to the doll. “Is that your friend?”

  Jessica nods furiously and smiles. “Her name is Tabby. Like you! I named her after you. She’s nice too.”

  “I’m flattered,” trying to smile back. I’m getting a weird feeling. Who is this girl?

  As if she’s reading my thoughts, she giggles and says, “I’m your friend, silly. Don’t you know that?”

  “Of course, Jessica.” I guess it must be true. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Things are weird right now. I can’t remember much.”

  “Oh,” she replies with the cutest squeak of innocence, “I can help you. I can help you remember everything. You’re Tabitha, and I’m Jessica, and we’re friends. And we were supposed to play dolls.” She looks at me sheepishly. “You still want to play dolls, don’t you?”

  I glance at my empty hands and hold them out. “Afraid I didn’t bring a doll to play with. Must have forgot that too.”

  “No problem. I have one for you right here.” And she takes out a ragged caricature of someone vaguely familiar.

  “Who’s that?” I ask.

  “This is Billy. He’s also nice. But he’s a little lonely and scared. He needs a friend like Tabby here to keep him company and show him the way.”

  “The way where?”

  “The way home—silly goose!” Jessica erupts with laughter. “Home is where he wants to go, but there are all kinds of adventures he must have before he gets there. And he needs Tabitha to make sure he doesn’t . . .” She searches into the distance to ensure privacy, as if she’s about to divulge a secret. “DIE.”

  “Sounds like Billy has an exciting life.”

  Jessica shrugs her shoulders. “Tabby’s life is even more exciting. She has experience. She can do anything!”

  “Well, not anything, I’m sure.”

  Jessica narrows her eyes. “Don’t talk bad about my Tabby! She can do everything, and you can’t. You’re just jealous!”

  “No, no,” I cry desperately, “you mustn’t misunderstand . . .”

  The little girl glares back at me, then looks down to her doll, and after, examines Billy, who has the rattiest head of red hair, and filthy white skin with tiny dots on his arms and face. The toy had seen some action, much like Jessica’s Tabby, who has a plaid overshirt, and sneakers as brown and worn as mine. Her hair is dark too, with eyes emerald green, and a dagger-sharp grin.

  “She’s beautiful,” I compliment. “And Billy, uh, seems—like you said—nice.”

  “Here,” Jessica tosses him to me. “He’s yours.”

  “Thanks,” I say, uncertain. “He’ll make do.”

  “He better. There aren’t any more dolls.”

  “Okay. So, what do we do now?”

  Jessica smiles and slowly gets on her knees. “I’ll start. See Billy? He’s over there, in that cupboard.”

  “What cupboard?”

  “That cupboard,” she points.

  I turn and see a single rectangular block, as high as my chest, standing alone, a door attached to the front.

  “Put Billy in there,” I’m told; and I do it, closing the door on the doll.

  A voice is given to Billy. Jessica covers her mouth and muffles a pathetic, “Help, help.” She walks over to the cupboard and does it again. “Help, help, let me out of here.”

/>   “I’ll save you!” Tabby’s heroic call is made. The door is opened, but Billy is gone. I rub my eyes.

  “Where did he go?” I ask Jessica directly.

  “Hm.” She looks down at her Tabby, all floppy. “There’s only one doll now.”

  I fake my disappointment. “We can’t play then. Shucks.” Realizing my insincerity, Jessica quickly stares into my eyes. She isn’t angry, though. She laughs.

  “You don’t have much imagination, do you Tabitha? There are all sorts of games to play with one doll.”

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But I don’t feel like playing right now. I’ve got to do something—I think.” Not counting, you’re starting to freak me out. “Do you think you can show me the way from here. Where are we, by the way?”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  “No, I don’t remember. It looks like we’re in the middle of a cloud.” I sigh. “Please help me.”

  “You want to go. You want to leave me all alone. That’s not very polite.” She puckers her mouth and tilts her chin down, shaming me, goading me into staying. But I’m tired of her baloney. She isn’t natural. This isn’t how people should talk, and not someone her age, with those eyes, as they glimmer with anticipation. Those eyes don’t belong with that smile.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. Can you show me out of here? Please, Jessica. Pretty please with sugar on top. Help me.”

  “Help me, help me, ha-ha-ha! You sound like Billy. You’re scared like Billy. That’s too bad.”

  “Yes,” I shoot back. “That’s too bad. Now, are you gonna help me, or are you gonna make fun all day?”

  Jessica rocks her hips and shakes her head. “Scaredy-cat, scaredy-cat. NA-NA, NA-NA!” Her tongue comes out. I draw back. It’s green. And black. Black where pink should be.

  She finally looks at the doll. Miserable disdain shows on her face. “Maybe you aren’t as great as I thought. Too timid. Too weak. NO FUN!”

  Her mouth opens again. Garish fangs discharge, dripping with a vile sewage I can smell from several feet away. In a flash, she chomps down on the doll’s face.

  . . . And it bleeds . . .

  The doll rains its ruin on the ground, while Jessica rubs her tummy and chews viciously at the meat.

  “Mighty tasty, Tabitha. You want a bite?”

  I’ve run twenty feet into the murk, and the taunts of the “little girl” reach me from all directions.

  “NA-NA, NA-NA! Where are you going, Tabitha?”

  Not sure, not sure, not sure. OH GAWD! Where AM I going?! How do I get out of here?!

  The demon child laughs, and I run some more, confident my every thought can be read. The idea comes to me that I should clear my mind, or think of a neutral place, having nothing to do with my current situation. My hope is this will throw her off, make me invisible. But, in her scornful way, Jessica tells me, “That won’t work either. I know where you are. This place is special. This place is mine.”

  That sounds familiar for some reason. I’ve heard that before.

  “If you know where I am, come and get me!” I yell. “Or can’t you do it?”

  “HA-HA-HA!” The voice deepens into a massive tuba. “That’s more like it. Fight. Fight. Fight. It’s so much better when you fight.”

  “Not better for you, whoever you are.”

  “Come, come, Tabitha. Can’t you remember? Can’t you remember your old friend? How about Billy? Remember him? He screamed like a baby. You’ll scream too. You’ll beg for mercy.”

  Doesn’t matter how hard I churn my legs, or which direction I go. Emptiness, emptiness, and more emptiness. I look to the ground for some clue as to my whereabouts, maybe tracks to indicate I’ve passed through before. It’s a white subway tile, clean and pure. And the ceiling is boring paneling with long tubes of fluorescent light encased in plastic, the kind you’d find in a school.

  School?

  School! School! This is a school! That’s right!!

  But a school with no lockers, no desks, and no prattling old people? It’s hard to believe, but I know it’s true.

  The voice returns. “Tabitha. Tah-bith-a. Gloom is doom, and school is cruel. Come to me, and then be free.”

  “Free to die. Nah. I’ll find my own exit, thank you.”

  “I’ll show you the door. On my honor.”

  The haze parts and creates a streak of openness to a distant form pushing from the ground. A gaudy exit sign, brilliant green with a halo, tops a simple door, metallic with words, EMERGENCY ONLY, pasted on its broadside.

  “I never lie,” says the tuba.

  A more obvious trap has never been laid, but the temptation is too great. I walk to the door, using my peripherals for security, but not actually seeing anything.

  “Come to me, and then be free.”

  I’m at arm’s length away. The door is smaller than I thought. My forehead would barely clear the top. I reach for it, and the push bar avoids my touch. It doesn’t move away; it shrinks. The whole door shrinks, looking farther away, but, in reality, becoming the size of a trash can. I reach again, and the door gets smaller, this time the size of a book.

  In my last attempt, I succeed at grabbing it. The exit sign is still lighted. The door’s surface feels as cool as a silver dollar. I push it open and feel the dank of early evening. The crickets play their song, and I hear howling in the background. It’s a momentary relief. Quickly, the door closes by itself, and the trinket disappears from my clutches.

  I want to cry.

  “What wrong? Cat got your tongue? I showed you the way out, didn’t I? How about some appreciation?”

  “Whoever you are, whatever you are, you belong in Hell.”

  From right behind me, “We’re already there.”

  The air blows my hair across my face. It’s the disturbance of a large body, close by and shifting rapidly. I twist on my toes to meet it head on. I see a desert of skin, full of dry gullies and sandy peaks, flakes dusting off like falling snow. There’s a strange light, so familiar I’m completely fixated on its glow—a moth to the flame. It takes being knocked to the ground with a large wallop to realize my immediate danger. My face pounds heavy with a hot bruise and my eyes rattle in my head. I’m too dizzy to regain focus. The blur that is my attacker has not yet come to finish the job.

  “Too easy,” it says. “I’m beginning to think this was a waste of time.”

  Still on the ground, my legs propel my body backward at a skid. I try to plan what happens next. There’s nowhere to go, and I can’t run (or push myself) forever. And, from the looks of it, this thing is too big to beat.

  “You and the roaches have much in common, Tabitha. Both the slithering excrement of the world. Both so delicious.”

  “Can’t say I approve of your culinary preferences.”

  It’s now out of my view. I’ve moved far enough.

  Getting on my feet, running . . . running. Why running? Where running? I can see better. The bruise still hurts, but the shock is gone. Thoughts are becoming clearer. Alert. Ready. If it comes again, I’ll dodge. For all eternity, I’ll dodge my fate. It can’t have me. Let the maggots eat my body, not this thing. This thing’s worse than maggots. Worse than all the parasites I can name.

  “Excrement, eh?” I ask the air. “I’m no Freudian, but I have to say, you might be projecting, big fella. You are a fella, aren’t you?”

  Nothing.

  “Hello? Did I lose ya?”

  More silence.

  No more can I tread. It’s demoralizing. I only need to see it coming as it strikes again. Constantly spinning and spinning my body, I’ve become a whirling dervish.

  “Finish it already. This isn’t the DMV.”

  The haze parts again. This time, there isn’t a door at the end. Just it—him. I’m sure it’s a him. He’s ugly as can be. Bald and almost naked. A loin cloth barely hides parts I’d rather pretend he didn’t have. And he’s fat. Actually, the word “fat” doesn’t do justice to his type of fat. He could
swallow Earth and have the Moon as dessert.

  And that glow. I remember it. I’m remembering . . . him. Not it, but Billy. I lost Billy! Billy Lawsome, my new compadre. He disappeared when I strayed from the wall.

  “What did you do with him?” I ask The Blob.

  “Ah, good ole yummy Billy. He tasted like duck confit with a light cranberry sauce.”

  “I don’t believe you. WHERE IS HE?!”

  The Blob walks closer, his steps furtive, but he can’t control the weight of his body, which makes the ground shake under my feet. It’s how I know he’s real.

  “What do you care? In the pantry, hanging from a hook, rubbed down with spice. Or in the freezer, solid as an ice cube. He could be on the counter, minced up and soaking in marinade, my own recipe. Though, he’s likely in here.” The Blob slaps his enormous stomach with his hands. The noise hurts my ears.

  “You don’t scare me anymore,” I say. “This has gone on long enough.”

  “Yes. Long enough. Now’s time for you to stay where you are and accept your place in the food chain. You cannot stop what is coming for you.”

  “What’s coming exactly? Are you gonna make it quick? Twist my neck off like a chicken?”

  “If you prefer that.” He will reach me soon. Any second. “I’m not angry with you. Pleasantly surprised. I thought the others did such a thorough job, and I wouldn’t have any entertainment.”

  “You certainly don’t look fleet of foot. Bet the others you speak of know that better than I do. Wonder what they think of an oversized carbuncle like yourself.”

  And if that gets him mad—GOOD!

  He chuckles. “So much for this being quick.” He takes his hands out and cracks his fingers with one long flex. “Time to scream, Tabitha.”

  “At your pleasure, handsome.”

  He reaches for my throat and I step back. He does it again, and I throw my body rearward with a leap, not bothering to watch my regression. He groans. “Stay still!”

  I do it again, and again. He’s trying to get faster, but no matter his determination, the limits of that corpulent physique are too great. Right now, like this, I’m invincible. Though, in the end, he’s right: There’s no stopping what’s coming. I’m going to tire. My battery will drain. I still need food and sleep, and neither seems within reach here, in “his place.”