by R. W. Ridley
“Okay,” the doc says sounding more than a little irritated. “Talk.”
“Not here.”
“What do you mean?”
“The couch. I want to go under.”
There is an awkward silence.
“Hypnosis? Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Scoop-face chuckles. “It’s what you do, ain’t it?”
“You called it a gallon of goose crap last week.”
“Last week?” Scoop-face chuckles even louder. “You can’t hold a crazy man’s feet to the fire for a thing he said last week.”
The doc clears his throat. “I don’t like that word.”
“I know... I had a change of heart, that’s all. I got some things I want to explore in the deep recesses of this dented head of mine. Now, are you going to help me or sit there with that puppy dog look on your face?”
I can hear movement. The doc shifts in his leather chair. I wonder how you hypnotize a man with no eyes. Are the eyes necessary? They aren’t when you’re under.
A chair squeaks. One of them clears his throat. “Very well,” Dr. Graham says.
Silence. Then I hear the chairs being pushed back.
“Get your hands off me,” Scoop-face snarls. “I know the daggum way.”
Now I hear the shuffling of his feet. In my mind’s eye, I see the doc nervously following him, watching him carefully, almost willing him to the couch without incident, one hand out to steady him if Scoop-face should happen to run into some errant piece of furniture.
Scoop-face can feel him there. He grunts in protest, but knows the doc doesn’t mean anything by it. People do it to him all the time. They aren’t as concerned about him as they are about themselves having to witness the possible catastrophe of a bumbling man with no face crashing to the floor.
I hear the swish of leather as Scoop-face’s ass hits the couch. Dr. Graham adjusts his chair.
“Are you certain about this?” Dr. Graham asks.
“I’m on the couch, ain’t I,” Scoop-face answers. “Do your stuff, Doc.”
I hear the soothing rhythm of the metronome begin. I breathe deeply as the soft ticking seeps in and fills the closet.
The doc pulls out his heavy monotone voice. “Listen to the sound of the metronome. Not just the sound it makes, but the sounds it doesn’t make. Listen to the soft chorus of its entire existence, from sound to silence to sound and back to silence. Go beyond listening. Feel it now. Feel the gentle thumping in your chest. Feel the sound travel through your nerves and veins. Relax as it takes over your whole body. Relax. Getting sleepy now. Relax. Sleepier still. Relax.”
He stops talking.
For several seconds there is nothing but the sound of the metronome.
Softly the doc says. “Where are you, Archie?”
“The woods. Running. Being chased.”
“By who.”
“Not who. What. Don’t know.” He screams suddenly. “What?” the doc asks sounding a little more panicked than I imagine he intends.
“They got Bobby! They got little Bobby!” His voice is cracking. Mucus is building up in this throat.
“Calm down, Archie. Calm down. Leave this place. Leave it now. Go somewhere safe. Find someplace safe...”
“Wait! They don’t have him anymore. He got away. Somebody saved him. Somebody... It’s...”
“Who, Archie? It’s who?”
He sighs deeply. “Lou!”
Scoop-face
THREE
“You ain’t never seen nothing like it. She can fight like nobody’s business. Monster, man, or animal, she can hold her own with anything or anybody.
“Skinner dead. I see it now. That’s who’s chasing us through the woods. It’s me, little Bobby Greeley, Tank Caldwell, and April Nelson. We’re running for our friggin’ lives. The skinner dead are organized now. They figured out they hunted better in packs than on their own. They hunt to eat , and they’re always hungry.
“I still got my face at this point. I don’t mind telling you, I’m a good-looking fella when I got my nose and eyes. I did all right with the ladies in my day, I tell you what, but that’s the furthest thing from my simple little mind at the time. I’m just trying not to be food.
“Skinner dead ain’t your typical zombies. They move different. I guess cause they been filleted by bugs they get bug ways in their bones. They can run like men and hop, crawl, and bite like bugs when they need to. The only thing we got going for us is they think like bugs, too. They ain’t exactly splittin’ the atom, if you know what I mean.
“One of the skinner dead, used to be an old lady it looks like, swoops down from a crooked oak and grabs up little Bobby. You ain’t never heard a scream like that in all your life. The old lady, her fire-red inner flesh glistening, is cackling with joy because she caught some food. Bobby’s screeching like a banshee. We all seen the skinner dead eat. It ain’t pretty.
“Little Bobby, as you can imagine, ain’t very big. He used to be a jockey when things was normal, before the end of the world. He used to be strong enough to manhandle a 1200 pound thoroughbred, but now he’s small and puny. He couldn’t walk a 20-pound dog without pulling his arm out of its socket. Doing nothing but surviving does that to a man. It cuts him down to a shell. The muscle and energy gives way to worry and fear. It just tears him down to nothing but a shadow of the man who used to live in its place.
“Anyway, there was little Bobby Greeley squirming under the hold of a skinner dead old lady. She’s crowing and gnashing her teeth. She’s got dinner. I feel terrible. There’s nothing I can do because... well there ain’t no way in hell I was going back to help him and become food myself. There’s brave, and there’s stupid, and I ain’t neither.
“The skinner dead old lady sinks her teeth into Bobby’s shoulder. He screams bloody murder. The other skinner dead are on their way to join in on the feast. Although, I can’t imagine he’ll be more than an appetizer to the group of... four or five.
“They were just twenty feet away or so when Lou swung out of the trees. She actually swung down on a vine like Tarzan. It was right out of the movies. She went feet first into the skinner dead old lady. Knocked the old hag into that crooked oak, snapped her ribs like matchsticks.
“But that kind of thing don’t have much effect on the dead. The old lady leapt forward, little Bobby’s flesh still stuck between her rotten teeth and tackled Lou to the ground. Lou stood and pulled a sword from a sheath around her waist. She swung, wildly at first, missing the old lady more than hitting her, but her frenzied ballet of slashes and grunts kept the other skinner dead at bay. They watched, clearly confused by the chaotic action, and waited for a lull in the combat to leap forward and take Lou down.
“She never gave them that lull. The old lady was cut to pieces and Lou advanced on the other skinner dead without missing a beat.
“‘C’mon!’ she screamed.
“‘We’s so hungry,’ one of the skinner dead bellowed through shredded vocal chords. ‘Please.’
“‘The little one,’ another one cried. ‘That’s all we need. We eats him up , and you go. We leave your yummy flesh be.’
“Me, Tank and April slowly move up and flank Lou. She turns and gives us a scolding stare. She wasn’t happy we took so long to back her up.
“‘Leave or I’ll chop you to pieces like your friend here.’
“The skinner dead look at their fallen comrade. One scoops up a piece of the rotten skinless flesh and sniffs it. ‘Bad, not for eats.’
“‘Leave now,’ Lou insisted.
“‘Hungry,’ the skinner dead closest to her said. It slowly crawls foreword.
“Lou stepped towards it. She let out a warrior cry like you’ve never heard. Ear piercing, frightening, thunderous. The skinner dead knew to the depths of their decaying bones that she was capable of anything, a kind of madness they could have never imagined.
“They huffed one by one and disappeared into the thick canopy of the forest. Their vanishing trick
was unsettling. We sat in wait, sure that they would reappear as quickly as they’d disappeared, but as the minutes passed we realized they were really gone. Beaten back by one of the greatest warriors I have ever seen.”
***
“‘That was incredible.’
“We sat around a freshly built fire. April tended to little Bobby’s wounded shoulder. Tank and I sat in awe of Lou as she cleaned her sword.
“I cleared my throat. ‘I said that was incredible.’
“She snickered. ‘You mean the way you deserted your buddy?’
“Tank, a thick hairy man in his twenties, held his big hands up to the fire. ‘He was paying you a compliment... miss.’
“‘Relax, Tank,’ I said. ‘She’s right.’
“Flush faced, he turned to me prepared to defend his honor, but in the split second it took him to turn to me, he must have run the events over in his head and realized she was right. He simply nodded.
“‘We ain’t heros,’ I said. ‘Hell, a couple of years ago, I was in my first semester at a technical college in Birmingham. I was going to be an electrician. I didn’t sign up for this.’
“She laughed. ‘Nobody signed up for this, genius.’
“‘You got a smart mouth on you,’ Tank barked. ‘What are you anyway, thirteen... fourteen?’
“She shrugged. ‘Something like that,’ she said examining the now shiny blade of her sword. ‘I stopped counting a while back. Seemed pointless.’
“‘Well, you’re just a kid, anyhow,’ Tank grunted. ‘A little respect would be nice.’
“‘Respect?’ she laughed.
“‘You alone?’ I interrupted. Tank was about to start an argument he couldn’t win. I didn’t want to make an enemy of this girl.
“She stared at Tank. Disgust in her eyes. She was covered in mud and skinner dead blood, but even so I could see a delicate beauty underneath it all. Her hair, although a little matted and tangled, had the potential to be a sparkling chestnut mane. There was a distant look in her eyes that I’d seen a thousand times since this whole thing... the end of the world, but hers was different in a way I couldn’t define or describe. We had all lost something. Some of us were more wounded by that fact than others. Some of us were even glad to have lost our old lives. Looking at this girl, this warrior, I sensed that in some ways, her life didn’t begin until the world ended.
“‘I’m meeting up with some friends a few clicks to the north.’ She laid the sword down on the ground in front of her.
“‘Bobby’s in bad shape,’ April said stroking his forehead. The once plump sorority girl had administered all the first aid she knew. ‘We need something to clean the wound.’ She brushed back her dirty blonde hair with the back of her hand. ‘Plus, doesn’t this mean he’ll be a zombie now?’
“Tank snorted. ‘You watched too many George Romero movies.’
“‘Who?’
“‘Romero. Night of the Living Dead. Dawn of the Dead.’
“‘I thought it was Shaun of the Dead.’
“‘What?’ Tank growled.
“‘Tank,’ I said. ‘Calm down.’
“‘I can’t take it anymore, Archie!’ he shouted. ‘She’s wearing on my last nerve!’
“‘I’m wearing on your last nerve?’ she shouted back. ‘You’re the biggest oaf left on the planet, and I’m wearing on your last nerve?’
“‘This isn’t doing us any good,’ I said.
“‘All I said is that when people are bit by zombies they turn into zombies. Just like in that movie Shaun of the Dead.’ April was screaming without restraint.
“‘You ignorant little...’ Tank said as he stood. ‘Ahhhh, it’s Dawn of the Dead. George Romero invented the friggin zombie genre...’
“Tank stopped mid dissertation when he heard a snort of laughter. His face twisted into an expression of bewilderment when he saw Lou chuckling at his expense. ‘What’s so funny?’
“Lou struggled to speak through the sobs of laughter. ‘How are you people not dead? This has got to be the dumbest argument I have ever heard.’
“We watched her laugh for about a minute before we joined her. It was dumb. Even Bobby managed to smile.
“‘Seriously,’ April said as she struggled to catch her breath. ‘Is Bobby going to become a zombie?’
“Lou let out one last breathy sigh of amusement and nonchalantly said, ‘I don’t know.’
“Our laugh fest was abruptly cut short.
“‘What?’ April asked.
“‘Don’t know,’ Lou answered. ‘I’ve never seen them leave a body behind much less leave someone alive. They usually eat everything.’
“There was a long silence after Lou spoke, too long. Her statement hung in the air like an invisible wind chime. Every once in a while, after the wind blew, you could hear the last sentence repeated. ‘They usually eat everything.’
“‘What are you saying?’ Tank grumbled. ‘Bobby could become a zombie?’
“‘That’s about the long and short of it,’ Lou said standing. ‘I guess you folks will know soon enough. He doesn’t look too good.’
“She had taken three steps towards the woods before any of use moved. We were all shocked by the possibility that little Bobby could be a walking corpse at any moment.
“‘Wait a minute,’ I said chasing after her. ‘Where you going?’ “‘To join my friends,’ she said without slowing down.
“I turned and looked at the others. They were thinking the same thing I was. ‘Can we come with you?’
“‘No,’ she said. No explanation. No apology. Nothing. “‘Why?’
“She stopped. Back to us, her shoulders sank. She stood there. Motionless. Without turning she said, ‘You’ll slow me down.’
“I laughed. I’m not sure why. It was a reflex I guess. I didn’t stop to analyze it at the moment. I just laughed and laughed and laughed. I couldn’t stop myself.
“She finally turned. ‘What’s so funny?’
“‘Slow you down?’ I said still chuckling like a lunatic. ‘Slow you down?’
“‘That’s what I said.’
“‘Please tell me what you’re late for.’ I shook my head. ‘Are you late for school? Work? What?’ I waved her off. ‘In case you haven’t noticed, it ain’t exactly possible to be late for anything because there ain’t nothing left to be late for.’
“‘My friends will start to worry,’ she said sounding like her young age for the first time. ‘They’ve been through enough.’
“‘Fine,’ I shouted. ‘Go! We’ll be fine here watching Bobby turn into the undead.’
“April gulped. She nervously scooted away from Bobby. ‘I don’t want to see that,’ she said.
“Lou scanned our feeble group of survivors. She looked up at the purple and black sky. I have no idea what was going through her mind. She struck me as a person who had learned to survive on instinct and her instinct was telling her to leave us behind and not give us a second thought.
“‘The big one carries Bobby,’ she said pointing at Tank. ‘Find a weapon, and keep quiet. There’s more than the skinner dead to worry about out there. We’ve got a lot of woods to go through before we get to a safe point. I’ve got bigger things to do than save you people. If we run into trouble, you fight. I don’t fight for you. We clear?’
“‘Why do I have to carry Bobby?’ Tank protested.
“I swatted a hand in his direction signaling him to stop complaining and do as she said.
“He grunted and picked up Bobby in a fireman’s carry. ‘Just cause I’m big,’ he said. ‘It ain’t fair. That’s all I’m saying.’
“Tight-lipped, Lou cocked her head and gave Tank the evil eye. He quit moaning instantly. She turned, and we followed. It wouldn’t be the last time she would lead us.”
FOUR
“A low rumbling growl greeted us when we emerged from the woods and found ourselves on a deserted two-lane highway. The black in the sky had completely gobbled up the purple. The dimmest light broke
through little vents in the thick darkness that hovered over our heads.
“The source of the growl emerged from the woods. Lumbering before us with a tremendously scarred body and face, was an enormous gorilla. It opened its mouth and flashed brilliant white canines. It rose up and pounded its chest with cupped hands, pock-pock-pock. It was a scene that would have been unheard of a few short years ago, especially on a back road in South Carolina.
“Tank, exhausted from carrying Bobby, stepped back into a pothole. The two of them went tumbling to the pavement. I raised the broken tree limb I had chosen as a weapon. It was a useless gesture with a totally useless weapon. April simply dropped to her knees and began to weep.
“Lou stepped forward and gave the beast a series of hand signals. The gorilla signaled back. A German shepherd raced out of the blackness. It was panting heavily, but didn’t show any aggressiveness. In fact, it approached April and licked her tearstained face.
“The gorilla sat on its haunches and huffed. It bobbed its enormous head up and down. Lou walked over to it and put her arm around the animal’s shoulder.
“‘These your friends?’ I asked.
“She flashed a relaxed smile that said everything. These weren’t just friends. They were her home.
“The gorilla signaled to her.
“The smile disappeared. ‘It was a dead end.’
“A sour grimace absorbed the gorilla’s face.
“Lou stroked his back. ‘We’ll find him.’
“‘What’s this?’ a voice boomed. A fat man with a bushy beard stepped onto the highway. He wore a tattered gray shirt with a name patch above the breast pocket, Wes.
“Lou smiled at him. ‘Good to see you, too.’
“‘What in tarnation do you think you’re doing, Lou?’ he asked, ignoring her sarcasm. ‘You was supposed to follow up on Canter’s lead , and find...’ He shook his head. ‘Instead you come back with four more...’
“‘What was I supposed to do?’ she asked. ‘You should have seen them. I don’t know how they’re not already dead. No offense,’ she said motioning to me.