Zombie Annihilation
Page 11
When his fingers became wrinkled, Matthew pulled the plug and watched the dingy water swirl around the drain. He realized that he was still covered in the stubborn residue, so he jumped in the shower, careful not to drip water on the tile floor. Then, he scrubbed himself, finding that the body fluids of zombies came off much easier after a long soak. Finally, when he felt clean, Matthew wrapped himself in a plushy towel and crawled under the covers of the bed.
It was far too big for one person, but Matthew spread his limbs out as far as they would go before curling back into the center. He held a pillow to his nose and took a deep inhale, the freshness of the sheets so comforting and relaxing.
Though he felt guilty for being so comfortable, he remembered feeling similarly on his honeymoon. He had been to parts of the world where many citizens shared small huts with their entire extended families. Yet, he was sleeping in a small apartment and ordering pizza to his room.
“You work so hard to make everyone happy,” Rebecca told him. “You deserve nice things.”
Her imaginary words lulled him to sleep as he drifted off in the fresh linens. He only wished that he had the right person to share his bed with.
14
Matthew blinked his eyes open a few hours after he drifted off, feeling wide awake and refreshed. His damp towel had become tangled around him in his slumber, making the sheets soggy. Looking around to make sure he was still alone, he then whipped the covers off and went in search of clothes.
He went back to the bathroom and picked up his shirt, finding that it had dried into a stiff pile after he had taken it off. Knowing that he couldn’t possibly put it back on, he partially filled the tub and dropped his clothes in to soak. If he could scrub some of the dried blood out and hang the clothes on the towel rack, perhaps they would be dry in time for supper.
Next, he peeked into dresser drawers, looking for something to wear in the meantime. In the first drawer, Matthew found extra bed sheets and a silky robe. In the next, he found a few matching women’s underwear sets and a few cashmere sweaters. Finally, in the third, he found a couple of pairs of trousers and a flannel shirt. He was worried he’d have to put on the silky robe while he waited for his clothes to dry.
After a little searching, he managed to put together a complete outfit. He figured that if the owner of the home allowed people to eat and drink whatever they wanted, they wouldn’t mind letting him borrow some clothes for a little while. Matthew pulled on the khaki pants, surprised to find that they fit. The flannel shirt was a little baggy, but it was perfectly comfortable.
Matthew spent a few minutes scrubbing at his clothes, finding that the stains were not going to come out. Then, he wrung them out and hung them to dry.
He jumped back on the bed, thinking about what Crystal had said about moving on from tremendous loss. She seemed like a nice girl, so he thought it was possible that she was trying to keep a brave face and be tough. In fact, he was reminded of a lot of women he served with. The military attracted the tough types, women with broad shoulders and perfect posture. They kept their heads held high, didn’t take crap from anyone, and benched more than the average guy. These women also kept a stony face when dealing with tragedy. In any other profession, if a coworker died in their arms, it would be perfectly acceptable to cry and grieve and take a few days off work. In the military, they kept a straight face just in case they made anyone believe that they were too emotional to do their job. It wasn’t right, but it was what Matthew experienced. When Reagan died, Sergio was openly emotional, only because his grief was so overwhelming that he couldn’t possibly hide it. If one of the girls had caught him sobbing on the floor, there would be whispers.
Matthew wanted to tell Crystal that it was okay to be upset about her fiancé’s death, but it wasn’t his place. He didn’t know her very well. For all he knew, she was in her own room, crying her eyes out over him. It was best not to make assumptions.
Then again, he wondered what was normal when it came to grieving. He had seen people mourn their loss for years, rarely stepping out of the house once their pair was gone. On the other side of the spectrum, he had witnessed people speak casually of their loved one’s death, even to the point where they joked about it and made everyone else feel uncomfortable.
While he thought he was doing okay, given the circumstances, he wondered if he was holding on to something he would never get back. Maybe there was something to what Crystal said about moving on. Perhaps if he let go quickly, he wouldn’t be dragging around a sadness that could never be fixed.
Eventually, Matthew got tired of thinking about it and went back to the bathroom to check on his wet clothes. Suppertime was quickly approaching and his clothing was still damp. Using a hairdryer that was tucked into a bathroom drawer, he blasted hot air on his t-shirt until it was dry. Picking it up, he held it to his nose and nearly retched. Matthew yanked the rest of the clothes from the towel rack and threw them toward the trashcan. He would just have to wear the scavenged clothes now.
Matthew left his room and walked toward the end of the hall, hoping he could catch the other guys before they got to the kitchen. Luckily, Carl opened the door after the first knock, dressed in a new outfit, too.
“Did you have to throw away all of your clothes too?” Carl grinned. “I was in the shower for nearly ten minutes trying to get all the grime off my body.”
“Same here,” Matthew said. “I hope they aren’t trying to conserve hot water.”
“Doesn’t seem like they’re trying to conserve anything,” Carl said. “Come in. We have ten more minutes before dinner and I don’t want to be too early.”
Sergio sat in the corner of the room on a wooden armchair. While he looked clean and rested, he still had the same stony expression he wore before they parted ways.
“Don’t mind him,” Carl said, sitting down on a bed. “He’s still cranky, even after his nap.”
Sergio rolled his eyes and looked out the window. The street below was quiet.
“Can you believe this place?” Carl asked. “What does your room look like?”
Matthew took a quick glance around. “Pretty much the same as this one, except there’s just one bed and a few more couches.”
Carl shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable. Seriously, how did we manage to get here? I just wish the others were with us. I know Pip would get a kick out of this place.”
“She would think that it was ridiculous and over the top,” Sergio interjected.
“Maybe,” Carl said, sounding bored. “But she would love to have a hot shower. I guarantee that.”
Sergio shrugged. “I’ll admit, it’s pretty nice to have all of this crap cleaned off me. But I just hope there are no strings attached. I’ll accept their meal, mostly because I’m absolutely starving, but I’m not going to let them coerce me into giving them anything in return.”
Matthew frowned. He had yet to get the impression that this was a valid concern. As far as he could tell, the people in the community were generous and wanted others to be safe. After all, society depended on keeping enough people alive. Keeping more people safe meant that there were more available soldiers and fewer fatalities. If enough people could reach a community like it, then it wouldn’t be hard to wait for the zombies to die off. Returning to normal was a real possibility.
“What do you think they would want from us?” Matthew asked apprehensively.
“They know we’re soldiers. They’re rich and probably don’t have any experience doing this sort of thing. I bet they really hate having to get their hands dirty. It would be much easier for them to convince us to stay but go out and do the dirty work for them. Think about it.”
He did have a point. The three of them had a very marketable skill in a time where first responders were nowhere to be found. People with resources didn’t need to fight on their own—they could call the police for protection and an ambulance for medical emergencies. Having three soldiers on the payroll would be quite an advantage.
“Maybe we have leverage,” Matthew suggested. “Think of it this way—if they want us to stick around so badly, we can make demands of our own. That is, they have to want us to help. But in exchange for what we do best, we can bring the others over here. We can get them their very own house. They wouldn’t have to do anything they didn’t want to do. It might be really good for us. Maybe we should try to get them to keep us.”
Carl nodded. “Let’s go to dinner and keep an open mind. We never promised anything more than to stay for one meal. If they do show interest in us, we hold the power.”
Sergio shook his head. “I get what you’re saying, but you don’t know rich people. They’re not used to being told no. It could get dangerous.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Carl said as he laced up his boots. He had scrubbed some of the muck off, but there was still residual splatter, a sign that they weren’t of the same caliber as the residents of the estate.
When the three arrived at the kitchen, Matthew was surprised to find that it looked more like a soup kitchen than a dining hall. Perhaps everyone else lived somewhat modest lifestyles and they just treated their guests especially well. Instead of butlers waiting to serve a five-course meal at an exquisitely set dining room set, one long table was filled with serving dishes and pots. Even though it was no fancier than a church potluck dinner, the smell was heavenly. Matthew couldn’t wait to see what was being served.
“Hey guys,” Adele shouted, waving her hand. She was standing next to Crystal toward the end of the line. “Over here.”
The three walked through gaps between mismatched tables to stand with the girls who smiled broadly when they arrived.
“You guys clean up well,” Crystal noted. “Glad to see that you got the smell off you.”
“That bad?” Carl joked.
“Let’s just say that I like you guys even more now,” Crystal laughed. “Grab a tray and get in line behind us.”
“What’s for supper?” Matthew asked, trying to peer into the stockpots.
“It’s usually just soup and bread,” Crystal said. “It’s filling and nutritious, but there’s not a lot of substance to it.”
“That’s okay,” Matthew said, trying to hide his disappointment. “A hot meal is better than what we’ve been having.”
When it was his turn, a kitchen worker ladled two scoops of vegetable soup into Matthew’s bowl. He was amazed to find that next to the canned vegetables sat real pieces of beef. They were hard to find, but they were there all the same.
Next, he was handed a large hunk of fresh bread. The outer part was crusty but the inside was soft and light. It even came with a single package of margarine.
Matthew sat down with the others and tucked into his meal. He ate each bite slowly, savoring the rich meatiness of the beef broth and the delicate sweetness of the bread. It wasn’t the five-star restaurant quality that the neighborhood may have suggested, but it was fabulous all the same. With his eyes closed, he was able to appreciate every addition to the soup, tasting each and every spice added.
After a few bites, he looked up to see if the others were enjoying their meal as much as he was. Sergio was stuffing hunks of soggy bread into his mouth and grunting as he tried to swallow massive bites. He held the bowl to his mouth and chugged as if he were drinking beer at a college party.
He heard a giggle and looked up for a second, his lips still firmly attached to the bowl.
“I promise that there’s more food.” Crystal smiled. “I once brought home a stray dog when I was a kid and gave it a hamburger. Even it didn’t eat so ravenously.”
The others cracked a smile. Sergio didn’t blink.
“In fact, I don’t think any living creature has scarfed down food so quickly,” she added.
Matthew’s face fell when he saw the anger in Sergio’s eyes. He finished his meal by savagely ripping into the last of the bread with his canines.
“I’ve had my meal,” he said, getting up from the table, “and now I’m going to go. You people have no idea what it’s like to struggle, do you?”
Sergio stormed out of the room, letting the front door of the house slam shut. Matthew quickly scooped the rest of his soup into his mouth and tucked the rest of the bread into his pocket.
“I’ll go check on him,” he said, the others staring blankly at him.
“I was just kidding,” Crystal said.
“I know that,” Carl said quietly. “We haven’t had anything to eat but vending machine food for a long time. It’s been hard on us.”
“I’ll be back in a little bit,” Matthew said, excusing himself from the dining room. He jogged out the front door and found Sergio kicking a flower pot over, spilling soil all over the brick patio.
“You can’t tell me that they’re good people,” Sergio muttered when he heard Matthew chasing after him.
“I wasn’t going to,” he called, speeding up to catch up with Sergio. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” he growled. “Do you understand why I didn’t take to the charming people of this little town so quickly? Even if they don’t have anything sinister going on, which I’m a little suspicious of, they’re not good people. These are stuck-up rich people who don’t understand what it’s like to struggle. They’ve never gone a day without a warm meal. They’ve never had to fear for their life, because there’s always someone under them to make sure they’re safe. They can throw money at any problem in the world and it’ll go away. Those girls mocked me for being hungry. What else would they mock us for?”
Matthew bit his lip. He understood why Sergio was upset, but thought he was taking things a little too far. After all, it was hardly a malicious joke.
“I don’t think they meant to hurt you,” Matthew said cautiously. “I think that people try to make jokes to lighten the mood. Obviously, it really stinks that there are people out there who eat whatever they can find. I think Crystal was just trying to break the tension and raise spirits.”
Sergio rolled his eyes. “Well, my spirit doesn’t feel any lighter.”
“Me neither.” Matthew sighed.
“Even if she was making a joke and isn’t a scumbag, there’s still something off about this town,” Sergio said, lowering his voice. He sat down on a bench and checked his surroundings. Once Matthew sat on the other end, Sergio scooted down so he could keep his voice down.
“Like what?” Matthew asked, a chill running down his spine.
“I’m not exactly sure.” Sergio frowned. “Isn’t it weird how devastating this disease has been, but no one here has been touched by it? We’ve killed a bunch of zombies, but we’ve still had people around us die. How is it possible that no one here seems to have suffered a loss?”
Matthew thought for a moment before speaking. “Crystal said her fiancé was infected and died from a bite. He was here before he went beyond the gate.”
“How sure are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“How can you be so sure that she’s telling the truth and not feeding you a sob story to gain a little sympathy?”
Matthew took a sharp breath. “She wouldn’t do that. That’s messed up.”
“But you felt sorry for her.”
“Of course,” Matthew said, raising his voice. “I’ve gone through the same thing.”
“And that’s what would make you the right person to tell the tale to.”
Matthew furrowed his brow. He couldn’t imagine anyone doing such a thing, let alone Crystal. She seemed so genuine. Even though she wasn’t as emotional about her loved one’s death as Matthew would have thought, she still seemed broken up about it. No, he didn’t think there was enough evidence to convict her of being a liar.
“I think that’s a little much.”
“She’s into you,” Sergio said, staring Matthew straight in the eye. “I think it’s obvious that she’s taken a special interest in you.”
“She just lost her fiancé. I don’t think she’s interested
in another guy. I think you’re getting paranoid.”
Sergio shrugged. “Okay, the infatuation aside, don’t you think this place is weird?”
Matthew looked around. They were the only two people outside as far as he could see. The air was fresh and he could hear nothing but birds chirping in the distance and faint voices coming from inside the houses. If they were to drive a mile from where they sat, they would see death and destruction. Matthew felt like he was on a movie set. It was weird.
“I don’t think so,” Matthew lied, trying not to feed into Sergio’s paranoia. “I think we just got lucky. We got to wash up, rest, and eat a hot meal. Soon, we can go back to our people, knowing that if things get bad, there are others out there with the means to keep the people we care about safe.”
“If you say so,” Sergio said, pulling apart a blade of grass. “I hope you’re right about that.”
15
It was now dark in the quiet neighborhood. The windows of the house glowed a warm yellow as the community shared a meal. Matthew wondered if anyone noticed that the two newcomers were now walking the grounds, unattended by any permanent residents. It felt scandalous, as if they would be in big trouble if someone caught them out there, though they weren’t necessarily doing anything wrong.
After some convincing, Sergio managed to persuade Matthew to join him for a stroll around the grounds. They didn’t have to do anything other than walk, Sergio said, there would be no snooping. Matthew knew that if Sergio had the chance to dig for some dirt, he would try.
In fact, Matthew knew that the only reason Sergio wanted to walk around was because he wanted to pick up some information that the girls might not share with the soldiers. He wanted to find the seedy underbelly of the town and expose the rich people as bad characters. Matthew wasn’t so keen on snooping, but he didn’t want to leave Sergio to his own devices.
“I’m sure most of those people are done eating now,” Matthew said apprehensively. “Unless dinner is followed by drinks and dessert, I have a feeling we’ll run into someone sooner or later.”