Alive?

by Melissa Woods

  They sat quietly for a long time, whispering in small groups, but mostly just listening for any sounds from outside. So far, there had been none. Eventually, Joe got to his feet and began to walk around the room, picking up the framed photos on the coffee table.

  “These are your parents?” he asked.

  Violet nodded, taking the picture from him and holding it gently in both hands. It was one of her favorites: she and her parents on vacation in Florida when she was nine.

  “Where are they?” Zack asked.

  “In Australia, visiting family. They wanted me to come with them, but I never liked the flight, and had loads of stuff to do at school. I told them I’d be fine here.”

  Joe grinned. “Great judgement, as always, Violet.”

  “So you were alone when it started?” Zack asked.

  She nodded. “On the way back from a party.” She didn’t go into any more detail. She was tired and worried she might accidentally say something she didn’t want them to know. Matt was watching her closely, and she tried not to look at him. He had seen her, seen what she really was. What did he think of her now? More confusingly, why hadn’t he told the others? Didn’t he realize how dangerous she was?

  Violet felt more eyes on her, and realized she’d been quiet for a little too long. She turned back to Joe, deciding to shift the focus to someone else.

  “What happened to you?” she asked. “On that first day, I mean. How did you end up at the school? I’ve never asked.”

  “Well, that’s a particularly cheerful story,” Joe began. “Sam and I had gone to a party the night before it all happened, at Fiona Long’s house—”

  “Me too,” Violet interrupted, weirdly excited by this link in their zombie apocalypse origin stories.

  “Awesome,” Joe replied sarcastically, and Violet hit him with a couch cushion. “Anyway, we didn’t arrive until about midnight. By then, we were pretty wasted already. I don’t remember much of that night, only drinking this funky-tasting purple drink and ending up face down on the floor.”

  Joe woke up to the sound of bass music. It made the throbbing in his head feel a million times worse. He decided then and there that he hated bass music more than anything in the whole world. Slowly, carefully, he climbed to his feet, stumbling a little. The music was too loud; he felt like his head was about to explode. He shuffled over to the CD player, pushing various buttons to no avail. He gritted his teeth in frustration before yanking the wire out of the wall. Finally, silence. He took a minute to look around. The place was a mess: drink bottles everywhere, puke, passed-out partygoers. There were more people on the floor. Sam was one of them, sleeping next to a guy with dreadlocks. The guy had his arm around Sam’s waist, which made Joe smile. He took a quick picture with his phone and sent it to everyone in his address book before gently nudging Sam with his shoe.

  No reaction. When he tried again, he got the same response. He sighed, picking up a beer can from the coffee table and pouring the contents over Sam’s head. His friend spluttered awake.

  “Hey,” he cried, wiping his eyes.

  “Oh good, you’re up.”

  “Why’s the music stopped?” Sam yawned.

  “Partly because the party ended hours ago, partly because my head hurt, but mostly because it was the worst CD ever to be created. I know you brought it here, and I’m sorry to say it, but you have the crappiest musical taste of anyone who’s ever existed. Ever.”

  “Thanks for putting it so kindly,” Sam muttered sarcastically.

  “Of course.”

  Sam rolled his eyes, finally noticing the man beside him. “She looked different last night.” He laughed. “Hope no one else saw that.”

  “I’m sure they didn’t.” Joe’s phone was already vibrating in his pocket.

  Sam wriggled free and got to his feet. “What time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  “Right… I need to be at work in an hour. We better get going.”

  “I’ll get my coat.” Joe yawned, leaving Sam and heading for the kitchen, where he vaguely remembered throwing it a few hours earlier. He opened the door, spotting it on the floor by the table. There were more people passed out in this room, and what he guessed were puddles of red wine everywhere. It seemed like the party was still going on though; Fiona was pressed against the wall by two men who were kissing her neck. Her eyes widened when she saw him come in, but he covered his eyes playfully, grabbing his coat and closing the door behind him.

  “You’ll never guess what I saw in there,” he said to Sam, who was waiting for him outside.

  Sam wasn’t listening, rubbing his head gingerly. “I drank way too much. I can barely see straight.”

  “You’re not the only one.” Joe fell into step behind him, smiling at an old lady walking her dog into the woods. “I’d never heard of most of the booze Fiona got in. Who knows what was in it?”

  “She was really knocking it back last night, wasn’t she?”

  “She was still partying in the kitchen a minute ago. She had two guys in there.”

  Sam whistled. “Rather them than me. She’s terrifying.”

  Joe laughed, glancing around. “Quiet this morning, isn’t it?” He’d only just noticed how empty the roads seemed to be.

  Sam shrugged. “It’s early.” As he spoke, a load of kids on bikes appeared, all pedaling full speed toward them. He and Joe jumped out of the way. “Whoa, whoa, slow down!”

  “Get out of the way!”

  “The monsters are coming!”

  “Move!”

  Sam snorted. “Yeah, all right, thanks for that.” They watched the kids disappear into the woods. Sam rubbed his head again. “I do not need that much noise right now.”

  Joe nodded. He felt better after seeing a few more people. There were cars passing on the road ahead, too, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Sam nudged him.

  “Here comes trouble.”

  Joe followed his line of sight and smiled. It was Jake, attempting to get into a house across the road. Joe was surprised to see him standing. He’d not been looking so hot the night before.

  “Jake,” Sam called.

  No response. Jake continued to bang on the door.

  “That guy’s so deaf,” Sam muttered. “Jake…” he repeated as he and Joe headed across the road. Jake still didn’t respond. Sam picked up a pebble from the ground, and then flung it in his direction.

  “Ow!” Jake turned around, rubbing his head. “That hurt.”

  “You should’ve answered then,” Sam replied, but he was smiling. Jake left the door and headed over. His shirt was untucked, misbuttoned, and stained with something Joe was pretty sure was vomit.

  “How’s it going?” Jake asked. “Enjoy the party?”

  “Yeah, it was all right,” Joe replied. “I don’t think either of us were having as much fun as you, though.”

  “Huh?”

  Sam grinned. “Oh yeah, you were having a very good time if I remember right.”

  Jake’s eyes widened. “Was I with a girl?”

  Joe and Sam glanced at each other, giving Jake a moment before bursting his bubble.

  “No,” Joe replied. “No, the party didn’t slip into another dimension where girls like you.”

  “Har-har,” Jake drawled.

  “It wasn’t a magical party,” Sam agreed.

  “Yeah, okay, I get it. So what happened then?”

  Joe put on his most serious face. “You took your clothes off and danced on the table.”

  Jake’s eyes widened again. “No, I didn’t.”

  Sam nodded. “You did. You actually had some good moves.”

  “You’re kidding,” Jake pleaded. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  Joe grinned. “We’re kidding.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  “You didn’t have good moves.”

  “No…” Sam shook his head. “No, they were just terrible.”

  Jake put his head in his hands, leaning
against the fence. “I want to die.”

  “People will forget,” Joe suggested encouragingly. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Jake lowered his hands. “You wouldn’t say that if you were me.”

  “What are you doing anyway?” Sam asked, clearly feeling a little sorry for him and attempting to change the subject.

  “I forgot my key, but my mom’s usually up by now. I thought she’d let me in.” He turned back to the door, banging on it again. No response. “I know she’s in there,” he continued. “I’m sure I just saw her. I think she’s annoyed; I told her I wouldn’t stay out all night.”

  “Aren’t you eighteen?” Sam asked.

  Jake shrugged. “Her house, her rules. I’m gonna go around the back.” He headed along the side of the house and toward the side gate, jumping over it in one quick motion. Sam and Joe headed back to the road, where Sam glanced at his watch. “We need to get going or I’m going to be late.”

  A shrill scream cut through the quiet morning. The pair turned back to Jake’s house.

  “Do you think his mom hit him?” Sam asked.

  “Maybe,” Joe replied. But he didn’t. That scream wasn’t from a slap, a punch, or anything like that. It was long and agonizing. Seconds later, the front door opened and Jake stumbled out. He was covered in blood, grasping onto his neck where the crimson liquid poured through the gaps in his fingers.

  Joe and Sam were frozen to the spot for a few seconds before they ran to help their friend. Jake had already collapsed outside the door. As Joe and Sam approached the path, a woman in a blue dressing gown came outside. She, too, was bloodied, but didn’t appear to be in any pain. She threw herself down on Jake. For one mad moment, Joe thought she was trying to resuscitate him. Then he saw her tear the flesh from his lips. Joe slapped a hand across Sam’s chest, blocking him from getting any closer, forcing his friend to look more closely at what he was seeing.

  “What the—”

  Sam’s confusion was interrupted by the woman’s head snapping up in their direction. She screamed, scrambled to her feet, and ran toward them.

  “Go!” Joe yelled. The woman was fast, but they were faster. They managed to get some distance between them. As they raced down the next street, Joe started to see the world around them a little more clearly; cars were screeching out of town in every direction, people were screaming, houses were on fire, there were bodies on the ground, and crazed maniacs chasing people. He and Sam didn’t stop; they just kept running.

  It was only when they reached the wall around the school that Sam began to slow, motioning for Joe to do the same. The road was deserted for now. Joe’s heart was hammering, sweat pouring from his forehead.

  “What was it?” he asked.

  Sam shook his head; he had no clue either. They didn’t have time to talk. More of the crazed people were coming their way, appearing as if from nowhere. They were all bloodied, and one of them had an arm ripped off. Joe could see the sharp bone protruding from the wound. Sam grabbed a nearby garbage can, then pushed it up against the brick wall surrounding the school.

  “Come on,” he panted, climbing up. Joe followed suit, kicking the garbage can over once Sam had hold of his hand. They sat up there, watching the psychos crowd around. None of them thought to pick up the can and follow the men up, which was good, because Sam and Joe were both spent.

  They spent an hour on the wall, watching the chaos and starting to understand what they were seeing. Climbing down the other side, they went to see what they could find inside the building. They would quickly meet Matt and Amy. Within a few hours, Tom and Maggie would arrive, too.

  The group sat in silence for a few minutes. Violet knew that none of them were quite sure how to follow Joe’s story. Eventually, she got to her feet.

  “We should get some rest,” she began. “You guys can have my parent’s room; it’s the biggest. Maggie, you can have the spare room. I’ll sleep in mine, if that’s okay?”

  “I’ll stay down here,” Sam added. “Someone needs to be by the window in case anything happens, and it saves me from being spooned by Joe.”

  Joe showed Sam what he thought of that using a finger gesture. Less than ten minutes later, Violet was in her old room, wearing her old pajamas, and feeling the most peculiar sense of déjà vu she had ever felt. This wasn’t right; she shouldn’t be back, not now. Not after what she had become. But she didn’t have any choice. She needed to keep her friends safe, and this had been their only option.

  Well, other than Tom’s ‘nice house,’ of course.

  Ugh, you’ve got to let that go.

  Still, after losing control back at the school, having everyone living so close made Violet feel uncomfortable. That was part of the reason she’d opted to sleep alone; at least there was no chance of sleep-eating anyone.

  There was a knock at the door, and it opened slowly. Matt stood in the doorway. Violet’s heart began to race. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet, she had no idea where to even start.

  “Usually when people knock, they wait to be told to come in,” she joked weakly.

  Matt’s lips curved. “I’m not very polite. You’re lucky I even remembered to knock.” He stepped a little further into the room, closing the door behind him. He considered her for a moment. “Nice PJs.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What are they, horses?”

  “Unicorns.”

  “Oh yeah. I like the rainbows.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You don’t often see pajamas like that in adult size.”

  “You can still get them.”

  “And if we have to leave quickly in the middle of the night?”

  “Then I’ll spend the rest of the zombie apocalypse in unicorn PJs without a single regret.”

  Matt smiled, then took a final step closer. “We need to talk.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  Oh yeah, real casual, Violet. What could he possibly want to talk to you about?

  She sat on the bed, having no idea where to even begin this conversation. “Matt…”

  Matt shook his head, instantly silencing her. He moved a little closer. “Are you okay?”

  The question caught Violet off guard. “Me? Am I okay?” Was her mouth hanging open? It certainly felt like it. She spoke slowly. “You saw me attack a man. You saw me… And you’re asking if I’m okay? Are you stupid?”

  Matt looked a little confused. “I was going for ‘thoughtful,’ but…”

  “I’m dangerous,” Violet hissed, getting to her feet and trying to keep her voice low, not wanting the others to hear. “I could’ve killed you back there!”

  “But you didn’t—”

  “Why didn’t you leave me behind?”

  The confusion was back on Matt’s face. “I could never do that,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Then you’re an idiot.”

  Matt laughed. “Stupid and an idiot? I don’t have a lot going for me.”

  Violet sighed, exasperated. “This isn’t a joke. I’ve killed, and not just today. I’ve done it before. I’m dangerous.” She couldn’t help but feel that the unicorn pajamas might not be helping her argument.

  Matt moved over to the bed, sitting down. He studied Violet, not with fear, but with some other expression she didn’t recognize. Did he feel sorry for her? He didn’t need to; she was good enough at feeling that on her own.

  “How many?” he asked. “How many people have you killed?”

  “Four, I think, including Vince. I’m not sure if there were any others, I have gaps in my memory.”

  “Four isn’t too bad.”

  “It’s not great, Matt.”

  He smirked, patting the spot beside him. “Sit down, it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re pacing in those pajamas.”

  Violet felt her face flush red and sat beside him. “They were a gift,” she muttered.

  “I’m sure.”

  Violet knocked him with her sh
oulder. “Why can’t you take this seriously?”

  Matt shrugged. “I am, but I just can’t be afraid of you.”

  “Well then, you’re—”

  “An idiot, I know.”

  It was Violet’s turn to smile, even though she didn’t want to.

  “Did you mean to kill them?” he asked, quietly enough that if she had wanted to, she could’ve pretended not to hear.

  “I don’t know about Vince,” Violet admitted. “I was so angry.”

  “So was I.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t kill him.”

  “Maybe only because you did it first,” he suggested. “What about the other three?”

  “Daniel… I just wanted to make him go away. Hurt him at the most. Not kill him.”

  “And the others?”

  Violet shook her head. “I didn’t want to kill them. It was an accident.”

  Matt waited, and she knew he wanted an explanation. The trouble was she had no idea how to even begin. But she had to try; she owed him that much at the very least for keeping her secret.

  “I was bitten at the start, but I didn’t die. At least not fully. And I’m not like the others; it’s something to do with the blood. It’s like I’m a completely normal person, but when I smell fresh blood, something else takes over. I can’t control myself. It’s like I’m inside my body, just watching everything happen.” A horrible thought crossed her mind. “Do you think that’s what it’s like for the rest of them?” She gestured toward the window. “Do you think the biters are trapped in there, just like I am?”

  Matt didn’t answer. He couldn’t; he knew just as little about the dead as she did. Instead, he asked her a different question. “What happens when you bite them? How do you feel?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s like I feel alive. Truly alive. More alive than I’ve ever felt before. The more I…eat…the better I feel. But then it all gets too much, and I can’t handle it. That’s usually when I pass out. When I wake up, I’m me again.” She met Matt’s green eyes, so full of life. So different from her own. “Do you think I’m dead? Like them?”