by Mark Clodi
"Goddamn it!" Javier said out loud, drawing the attention of the entire mob of zombies. "That God damned monkey threw his shit in my beer!" Javier pointed to the beast that was laughing as only a monkey can, and hopping from fan to fan in excitement.
Pete reached Javier and pulled him out of the booth into the mob. Minutes later Javier rose again, his limp was more pronounced than ever now and his eyes were opaque. Slowly he stumbled after the rest of the zombies out the emergency exit and after the women into the night.
Seven in Billions
Frank just wanted to mow his lawn.
The two-acre lot had a wavy distortion rising above it on the hot July afternoon. Shielded on the edge by large maple wood trees, the majority of the grassy area was exposed to the sun. Given the exposure, it was no real miracle that grass grew at a prodigious rate in what would ordinarily be an untamed meadow. Frank Lars stood on the edge of his well-manicured lawn that in other circumstances could have passed for a golf green. He took in a deep breath, then walked the perimeter of his property, the broad leaf weed-killer ready in his hands to spray any offending weed that happened to take root since his last inspection seven days ago. It was with great satisfaction that he returned to the shed on the edge of the property.
"Nothing again, Sadie!" he called to his tired old hound of mixed descent. "It's like the weeds are too afraid to take root here or something."
Of course the Millers to the east were not so careful with their lot. It had dandelions in it; Frank had seen them. If the offending weeds approached too close to the edge of the property, Frank sprayed them, if no one was around. Today there had not been any dandelions, nor people. The last few days had been quiet.
"It's the dog days of summer girl. Your time, right?" Sadie declined to answer, nor did she lift her head off of her front paws. Sitting in the shade, the most response she gave her master was to stare at him briefly before returning to the nap from which she had come.
Frank went into the shed and opened up both the doors so he could drive out the John Deer EZtrak Z445 with a 48-inch deck that he had bought two years ago when his wife Martha had died of the breast cancer. It was never "cancer" for Frank, it was always "the cancer", as if the sickness deserved a title to increase its significance. Martha's death was the pivotal changing point in Frank's life, the sickness of the only woman he had ever loved, or made love to, lasted an all too brief three months. At fifty-two years old, his wife was too young to die and Frank would have given anything, including the money from the life insurance policy, to have her back.
There was no denying that Martha had been the organized one in their lives, she brought in the money, she paid the bills and it was all Frank could do to not run his lawn care business at a loss. Since she died, Frank really didn't work anymore. They had only owed ten grand on the house when she left him. The kids were all grown up and gone. The nearest of the three lived over eight hundred miles away. The money from her life insurance took care of everything Frank had needed. He hadn't invested any of it before the markets crashed either; his money just sat in a savings account in town at the bank about seven blocks away. Frank's lifestyle was such that he could live off the three-percent interest the bank gave him every year.
Pulling the large Winchester earphones over his head he sat down on the mower, started it up and backed out of the shed. He pivoted the mower around sideways until it came up to a rickety wooden table beside the shed. The table had a cooler on it and Frank pulled one of the beers inside of it off of the six pack and put it into the insulated cup holder on the mower. He did not tap the beer yet. Experience had taught him not to open a beer until he had mowed the edges of the property first, otherwise leaves, flowers and pieces of grass would get in his drink. Shutting the cooler, he put the mower in gear and did a run around the edges of the property.
After his second loop he was well out into the full light of the sun, thankful he had worn a hat and put on sunscreen to hold the skin cancer at bay. Many people would not mow during the hottest part of the day. Frank loved mowing in the heat. For one thing there was nothing on television in the afternoons; three hundred channels and the best you could find was a news broadcast. Frank had hated the news since Martha died. He would watch old news, like the History Channel, but the only thing he watched with up to the date information was the weather channel. The other thing Frank liked was that in July, in the afternoons no one was ever outside to bother him. This was what made the kids coming down the street noteworthy. They were not little kids, who would play outside nearly naked as their only concession to the weather. These were teenagers, pale and dressed in the strange black clothing that people in Frank's day referred to as 'Gothic'.
"Weirdoes." Frank said, not paying them too much mind as he made the next corner and turned away from them. "I hope they stay off my lawn."
When Frank made it around half the lawn and turned back to mow the next strip, the kids were closer. They looked drugged up.
'Like a bunch of pot heads or something.' He thought to himself.
Still, he gave them a cautiously wave to say hello at them as he came around the corner and they continued towards him from down the street. On his next loop around the kids were in his yard. Sadie was barking at them furiously, but staying out of their reach. One of the kids was going after the dog and Frank pulled his mower up beside them and turned it off. Removing his head phones he said, "Can I help you with something, son?"
The teen, probably fifteen or so Frank judged, just stared at him with vacant eyes and then leapt for Frank. His friends were right behind him, except for the girl in the short tan skirt that was lunging after Sadie. Frank's reflexes' were not as good as when he was younger, fortunately they didn't have to be as the kid trying to grab him got tripped up on the lawn mower deck. Frank pushed the kid back as he tried to climb up the lawn mower, started the machine and put it in gear. He did not start the mower blades, he just gunned the engine and flew away from his pursuers with relative ease. Sadie broke off barking at the girl and followed Frank's retreat to the shed. Once he reached the other side of the lawn Frank gestured to Sadie and she climbed up the mower deck and onto his lap, where she barked her defiance at the five kids who were still coming towards them. Behind the teens Frank saw more shapes on the road, a whole crowd of slow moving people stumbling towards him.
"Sadie, this doesn't look good." Frank said to his dog, though his voice was drowned out by the sounds of the mower. Turning the mower around he headed for his house, which was just about fifty feet away from the shed. He pulled up on his gravel driveway and parked the mower outside of his detached garage, then made his way up the steps and into the house. Sadie followed, but never stopped barking. Once inside Frank went to his phone and dialed the police emergency line. His call was answered by the machine, "Please leave a message detailing your emergency after the beep. The police will respond as soon as they are able to do so." This was followed by a loud artificial beep.
"Hello! Police? This is Frank Baker out at 224 Union Street, there are some people in my yard, one of them tried to grab me and a whole other mob is coming behind them. I am in my house now and have the doors locked, but I need an officer to come by and get this straightened out. Ah...the kids look like they are on drugs too, so be careful!" Hanging up the phone he went to his living room to look outside. By this time the teens were climbing up the stairs to the porch and the other people were within viewing distance. Looking out at a police officer mixed in with the teens Frank turned to Sadie and said, "Sadie, I don't think the police are coming."
The people on the porch noticed Frank gazing out of his front window and were drawn there, one slammed his hand into the glass, which cracked, but did not break. Frank stepped back quickly, dropping the curtain back into place. His body felt numb and he jumped slightly as the window was shattered. Taking another step backward he noticed a tingling in his arms and he started breathing quickly, the curtains were moving, then were torn from the wall as one of t
he kids crawled inside.
The vacant eyes of the teen fell on Frank as he took another slow step backwards. Sadie lunged forward and bit the kid's leg, and he reached for the dog and caught it by the collar. A tug of war ensued as the zombie tried to pull Sadie up to his mouth, while the dog maintained a grip on the thing's leg. Just as the kid won, Frank hit it with a lamp. The blow was strong enough to break the lamp, but not strong enough to break the boy's head. Sadie dropped to the floor and scurried around behind Frank as he stood there looking for another weapon. The numbness was definitely not his imagination, it was radiating up into his armpit and down his arms.
"Oh God, Sadie! I think I am having a heart attack!" Turning he tried to run to the stairs, but his faithful dog tripped him up and he landed on his hands and knees.
The kids shuffling towards him were faster than he was capable of moving. As the first one bit into his leg Frank felt an equally sharp pain in his chest, he didn't feel any of the other zombies biting him after that. Despite his early demise by heart attack, the zombies had bitten Frank before he passed and the infection that they were suffering from raised Frank from the dead ten minutes later. Getting to his feet Frank wandered about his house until he eventually joined a few stragglers heading out of town along the road. His faithful dog, Sadie, still alive and barking, though now at Frank, followed at his side.
Eight in Billions
Ben is insane. It isn't his fault the voice in his head never seems to give him good advice.
The bike path was deserted at this time of the morning.
'It is far too early for the normal dinks to be out and about,' thought Benny, 'too early for me too. Too damned cold.'
Serves you right for leaving your wife and kids. You deserve to be cold, homeless and alone! Another part of him thought.
"Shut up!" he mumbled. Benny wasn't much to look at anymore. Once he had sported a fine figure, which had led Jane to him in the first place, but that was thirty years ago now and she was long dead.
Fucking justice the way it works, isn't it? You cock up.
"Shut up!" he said louder. "No fucking people anymore, not anywhere."
Maybe they knew about you, about how you killed her and left those babies all alone.
"No, they don't, no one cares 'bout that anymore."
The kids care. Marly and Donna care.
"They pro'lly aren't even alive anymore." Benny said about his former father and mother in-law. "The kids are better off without me."
And Janie is dead. All these years dead.
The morning was a cold one, Benny had been driving out of the mass of cardboard and leaves that he had piled together the night before in the woods behind the truck stop. It was drizzling rain too, which didn't help improve Benny's already tenuous grip on reality. It had been raining the morning he killed his wife.
Ever since that act he tended to become violently irrational if he were caught in the rain. Now he was stalking the paved bike path looking for someone to provoke him. If luck were with him one of two things would happen, he would beat someone badly enough to land back in prison for a few years or he would get the living shit kicked out of him. At this point he didn't have a preference. Maybe the jogger would have pepper spray. If luck were not with him, it would not be a young man, but a young woman who looked like his dead wife.
Jane never aged, not in his mind. The frequent apologies to the young women he had accosted over the last twelve years didn't ease his conscious for longer than a day or two and had resulted in several short stays in county prisons around the country. He had never attacked a woman, not since killing his wife. Lately he was starting to get angry when he approached women who were not like his Janie.
'It's just a matter of time before I do.' Ben said to himself, then out loud, "I served my time. It's over."
It is never over. Not until Janie says it is. She hasn't told you it is over, has she?
"Shut up."
Has she? His inner voice pressed.
"Look!" Benny said pointing down the path. Someone was coming. Ben was dressed in ragged, dirty clothing; he gave up personal hygiene after about two years on the streets. Not much of a loss there. I don't have any friends anymore. The blue jeans he wore were now black in color and two sizes too big, under them he wore a pair of corduroy pants and beneath those he had on a pair of sweat pants. His shirts started off with a 'wife-beater' undershirt, now stained yellow from sweat, over which he had on a gray t-shirt, a long sleeved flannel shirt, a Dickies work shirt, a light jacket and an extra-large and long black coat that was the newest acquisition to his wardrobe.
'He gave it to me.' He thought, to fend off his inner voice.
You stole it. No one gives you a jacket like that. Not for free. You peed on it too.
'It was an accident.'
Piss-jacket wearing thieving son of a bitch.
"Shut up!" Ben yelled out loud.
Ben pulled his hand out of the jacket's pockets as the person ahead of him came closer. His hands were calloused, cut and scabbed over. He brought them together and started picking the scabs off while waiting for the walker to get close to him. Blood started dripping onto the bike path as the scabs came off.
Stop it. Put your hands away or we will scare them off!
"Shut up." Ben mumbled softly. Suddenly he stopped, froze completely and his entire body took on the posture of an animal; wary, suspicious. The person coming towards him was not right. There was something wrong with her.
The young woman was wearing a nightgown and robe. Her hair, the exact shade of Jane's the day Ben had killed her, was mussed and crusted with some sort of crud. She was barefoot and down one leg was a trail of blood that traveled up beyond the lower edge of her nightgown. Ben didn't notice her eyes, which were opaque. He never looked at people's eyes anymore.
'Janie got fucked up. What happened to her?'
It isn't her. We better go.
"No, it's her!" Ben said out loud.
Benny, this isn't her. Something is wrong with her, she looks sick.
"Are you sick?" Ben asked as Jane approached.
The woman didn't answer, one of her arms lifted up and she stumbled forward to grab at Ben's coat.
"Janie! Don't touch it! It has pee on it!"
It is not Janie!
"Shut up!" Ben said trying to get Jane's hand off of his coat. The woman's fingers were cold and he spun out of her grip and stumbled a few feet off of the bike path into the trees, where he crouched down and looked at her again.
"Maybe you're right."
Maybe you should kiss her, get her disease. It is what you deserve, isn't it?
"I don't think that is Janie. Her hair isn't right."
It is. It could be her. Ask.
"Are you Jane?" the woman shuffled towards him, hands held towards his head where he was still crouched. Her fingers ran through his hair. It is her!
I don't think so.
'She loves me!'
I don't think so.
"I am so sorry, Jane. Sorry for what I did. I didn't mean it! I was just so angry. I have anger problems. The doctor said. I didn't mean it. Please forgive me!"
I think she wants to kiss you. You should go.
The woman leaned down and brought her mouth to Ben's forehead. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the feel of her lips. A moment later they opened in shock as the woman took a bite sized chunk of skin out of his hairline. Standing abruptly he screamed at her, "You're not Janie!"
She is punishing you. Just take it.
Ben thought about this as he backed away from the woman.
'Maybe I am right, she wants to hurt me and make it all better.' He stopped moving and looked at the woman, who was licking his blood off of one of her hands.
'No. No, she is not my wife. My wife is dead and I don't know what she is.'
Finally! Let's get out of here!
Ben moved backwards as the woman came towards him. The back of his leg caught on a downed tree and he fell over bac
kwards into a bush, the woman followed him and fell onto him where he lay.
'Not Jane.'
No, not the wife you strangled thirty years ago today.
'Today?'
Exactly today, I think she wants to kiss you.
Ben didn't struggle against the woman, he was too tangled up in the bush and arguing with himself as she bit into his throat and chest. Soon all of his struggles ceased and the woman lost interest as he stopped registering as 'food' to her. By the time she was done his right shoulder had been gnawed completely through, almost to his armpit. She didn't mind the smell at all. A few minutes after she left, Ben struggled to his feet with only one decent arm and made his way back towards the path once again. Waiting for anyone, anyone at all, to pass by and no longer fighting himself as he did so. His patience was eventually rewarded as off in the distance a jogger appeared. The thing that had once been Ben smiled slightly and moved to meet them.
Nine in Billions
Andy wins a game of tag.
"Andy, you can't get me!" yelled his friend Ryan, after tagging the other boy and running away to climb up the old wooden fort in the schoolyard.
Andy looked up dully at his friend and smiled half-heartedly. The playground supervisor frowned, while watching him he had been sweaty, pale and lethargic all morning and she was on the verge of sending the boy to the school nurse. Then, suddenly, the boy seemed to perk up and took off after the other children playing tag around and amongst the wooden and metal structures, easing the supervisor's mind. She went back to sexting with her boyfriend while the children screamed and ran about her.
Today Andy was slow. He knew something was wrong, but he also knew he couldn't go home. His mom was on what his dad called a 'bender'. Andy didn't understand what a bender was. To him it was just a cartoon character from a show he rarely got to watch. Lately his mom seemed to do more and more 'benders'. His mom and dad were separated and it looked like Andy would be getting a new dad, Vick. Vick was a new arrival in the last two days and was a bit odd.