Zombies! Rising from the Dead

by Richard Palmer

  After dinner I decided to open up the attic and see if I couldn't get a better look outside to see what my condition was. I went into the first bedroom and pulled down the retractable stairs to the attic; I hadn't been in the attic in years. I climbed up into the narrow crawl space, it was filthy and dust-laden from years of infrequent use. Several feet up ahead there was a window that gave me an unobstructed view of the yard. It would be the first time I had seen the front yard in its entirety in over a month. I pulled up to the small rectangular window and slowly adjusted the slates so I could see out; careful not to make a sound.

  My truck was backed into the carport, just as I had left it. The driver side door was closest to the house. It would be a straight shot, but I couldn't just walk out the front door and face those things head on, doing so would be suicide, I would have to find a way to draw them away from the house. I looked out upon what was a grotesque sight. There were between eighty and a hundred creatures, from what I could see. I could get a pretty accurate head count from my vantage point, and it was more than I expected. I couldn't see under the carport however, my view being obstructed by the overhang of the roof.

  It was truly a frightening and macabre scene as the creatures staggered around in various stages of decay. Over the last thirty days some of the more badly decomposed had deteriorated till finally they dropped into a heap of bones; all organic material having rotted away from exposure to the elements. It was good in that there weren't many of the Walkers around, so for the most part I could easily outrun any of them that approached. The only problem was for every one that corroded away two more would rise up to take its place. Once again it was that persistent problem of numbers. Decades, if not hundreds of years of corpses were revitalized all at once and on the prowl. They lumbered about incoherently, some of them scavenging on the ground for what they could find with a few even feasting on their fallen comrades. It would seem everything was fair game.

  Anything that had been killed by those things also reanimated. The cat that one of them had gotten to earlier in the month had ‘come back.’ It was a sickening sight, the poor thing laid there on the ground bloated, festering and covered in maggots . . . and yet it lived. Almost severed in half by the creature that devoured it, all that remained was the head and a small portion of the upper torso. It had no real body to speak of, except for a thin spinal column which connected the front half to the rear quarter of the animal. It couldn't walk as it no longer had the necessary muscles to facilitate movement. It just laid there twitching, hissing and moaning; its tail whipping back and forth spasmodically from time to time.

  I looked out further noticing how high the grass had grown. What concerned me was what might be hiding in the tall blades. Almost at the end of my line of sight I could see the nose of the truck jutting out from under the carport. Having backed in as I said earlier, the driver side door would be a straight shot from the roof. I could sneak across and drop down, almost right on top of it. The only catch would be getting from the roof to the vehicle unnoticed. I thought for a moment that it might be better to attempt this at night because they wouldn't be able to see me. Then I thought better of it as I realized that I wouldn't be able to see them either.

  I surveyed the rest of the area and everything seemed in decent shape. Despite the fact that human corpses had risen from the grave and were standing in my front yard it looked like a pleasant day. I could see a plume of smoke coming from Barkley’s direction, no doubt the situation in town was far worse. The condition of Barkley, Panatauk and the other outlying towns was something of an unknown that we would have to take into consideration as we decided what course of action to take.

  I watched for a little longer then retreated back inside and climbed down the ladder, making sure to retract the ladder and lock it securely; you just never know. I was very paranoid and rightfully so. It was doubtful that one of those things could find its way onto the roof and virtually impossible that it could manage its way in the window and into the house, I was still taking no chances.

  Later that afternoon I began to pack my supplies. One backpack apiece, that's what I said. We couldn't afford to be weighed down by bunch of unnecessary equipment. I gathered only the things I needed; bottled water, snack bars, a flashlight and a few other items. Towards the evening I called Rick over the radio to discuss the situation in detail.

  “Hey Rick, you there?” I asked, waiting for his response. It took him several moments to get to the radio.

  “Yeah, I'm here. What’s up?” He sounded tired.

  “I'm sorry man, were you asleep?” I asked.

  “Just trying to get some rest while we can, that's all, what’s going on?” He asked in a groggy voice.

  “I just want to go over some things before tomorrow. Did you sit down and talk with Amanda?”

  “Yeah I did, I think she is going to be okay, she's as ready as she will ever be but we’ve got to first thing tomorrow. She'll be out of medicine in a few days” Rick replied.

  “Okay, like I said . . . 11 am, be ready and waiting. Remember, only one backpack. Listen I know that when all this shit goes down it's going to be crazy. Make sure when you jump in the truck you close that kitchen window so those things don't get in. I don't want tp get back and find out that they got inside while we were gone.” I continued.

  “I know, I won't forget. We have everything ready to go” Rick reassured me.

  “Alright, I just want to be sure. We've only got one chance to get this right. You know that once this goes down, things are going to be different. Until now they didn't know we were here, but now, well, they will be looking for us”, I told him.

  “I know but what else can we do?” Rick answered. Rick paused, “Bruce, you know while were in town, well, um . . . what ah, what about Frankie?”

  I had been so concerned with getting us to Panatauk that I hadn't given a thought to Frankie. The last time we had heard from him he had barricaded himself up inside The Game Pad; but we hadn't heard anything from him since. “Rick I will leave this up to you, but I want to see if we can get to him. We owe it to him to at least find out what happened. I don't think I could live with myself if we didn't at least try to find him,” I said.

  “Man I'm so glad to hear you say that!” Rick said in relief.

  I went on explaining other things in detail. “Well then that settles it, once we get Amanda taken care of we will try to get down there. When we get to Panatauk I figure the supercenter has the best chance of having her medicine. I know it’s going to be a mess though. Hell, when we left things were about to hit the fan. I imagine it’s been looted already and I figure those fucking undead things are in there too. I’m going to take the truck right through the front doors. We will unload right there at the pharmacy, get what we need, and get the fuck out. I will call you in the morning right before I leave, you guys need to try and get some rest”, I told him.

  “We are getting ready to lay down now and see if we can’t get some sleep. I've done everything I can to get Amanda ready, it’s still going to be tough for her, you know how she is, all super religious and stuff, she doesn't see things like we do.” He paused.

  “What do you mean?” I cut in.

  “She thinks it's the end of the world and shit. I tried to tell her this ain't the fucking apocalypse. She's starting to come around, but she still thinks of those damned things as people coming back from the dead, she doesn't get it. I told her it’s just tissue, their souls are gone but she's just having a hard time accepting it. She keeps saying, ‘I'm ready to go, I'm ready to go.’ I was like, ‘do you see four horsemen? Do you see us ascending to heaven? No, so it ain't the fucking end of the world you know”

  I listened to him vent.

  “I understand man; just do the best you can with her. I know it is hard but this is all going to work out work out. Now go and try to get some rest”.

  “We will man, we will....” He replied, shutting off the radio for the night.

  I worked off a
nd on for a couple more hours, getting battle plan worked out. I spent that time going over my list of supplies, checking and rechecking my preparations. The house really required no additional strengthening. For the last several weeks all I had to do was secure and fortify the house. As I methodically went over everything I realized more than anything it was myself I was preparing; psychologically. By late evening I had done absolutely everything I could do, the house was secure and my bags were packed. I had gone over every contingency that I thought we would encounter. Rick and Amanda were resting; there was simply nothing else to do. The time finally came for me to try and put my mind and ease and get some sleep as well.

  I decided to take my final night’s rest in the garden room; I wanted to look up at the stars for what I was sure was the last time. I went into the garden and made a pallet on the floor. I won't forget how the light of the moon cast a faint silhouette across the little vines. It sounds silly now, but as I laid there I tried to envision that I was far away in some lush tropical jungle, surrounded by thick green foliage and exotic animals. I tossed and turned for quite a while, it was hard to put my mind at ease as it raced with thoughts and imagery of what was to come the next morning. I tried to force the visions from my head and clear my mind by wiping it of all thoughts, after some time I finally drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 7

  Into The Breach

  I was awakened the next day by the early morning sun as it shined in through the garden window. As it glared down on top of me, I tried to ignore it by pulling the covers over my face. Soon the heat of the rays started to cook me from the inside out like a baked potato.

  I hesitated for a moment thinking about what today held in store. After months of isolation and hesitation I would now come face to face with the abominations that threatened my existence on a daily basis. I had done all I could do, prepared both physically and mentally, I was as ready as I was ever going to be. The last couple of months seemed like a dream, so much had happened in such a short time. One day we were grilling and swimming in the pool and the next we were fighting for our lives. Neither Rick nor I had heard from a living soul almost since the day this thing started. My hope was that everyone was just doing the same as us, holding up inside our homes until the terror passed, but there was no way to know for sure and for all we knew we might very well be the only ones left. There had to be survivors right? After all, we have made it so far. It only made sense that others would have had to? We can't be the only ones can we?

  I got up from the makeshift pallet I had made and walked into the living room. All was still and quiet, except for the constant moans and scratching that was coming from outside. I had almost gotten used to it in a way; it had become routine. I didn't notice that the house felt warmer than usual.

  I walked over to the refrigerator to grab a drink. As I opened the door the light didn't come on. All at once it dawned on me. Sometime during the night the power had finally failed. ‘How fitting,’ I thought to myself. On the very day that could be my last on the planet the power fails; it felt like an omen, a bad omen. I considered my home a part of my soul, an outward extension of myself; I was a part of this place, and it of me. It was almost like it sensed I was leaving, and now it was giving up the ghost.

  I grabbed the soda out of the still cool refrigerator and popped the top. I walked over to the bar and looked out upon the living room. The sense of hopelessness and futility that had plagued me for so long had been replaced by a new found fortitude. It was something I couldn't explain; perhaps it was because I had purpose again, my friends needed me. I grabbed the chilly can and walked into the living room. As I did, I rubbed my hand over the corner wall. “Don't worry baby, I'll be back,” I remember saying. Over the last few months I had grown a little delusional, but I saw my home as a real person. I tried to comfort it as best I could, letting it know things would be alright. It is a unique human trait that we give sentience to nonliving, constructs. For men most things take on a female persona, and henceforth with men being the physically stronger of the two, we fall into the classic role of protector. I felt the need to protect this place. It's a rationale I can't explain, but nonetheless it exists.

  I walked over to the supplies spread evenly across the living room sofa. Everything was ready to go, it was all as it should be; there were no more preparations to make.

  We had prepared until we were blue in the face. I drank the rest of the soda and decided to take a shower. As gross as it was I hadn't bathed all that often, and certainly not showers. I would take a bath from time to time but showers had been out of the question. There were several reasons why a shower would be out of the question, but the main reason was more paranoia than anything else. When you're in the shower and the hot water is cascading down your neck and shoulders you are oblivious to what is going on around you. The water is running constantly and you can't hear what is going on outside that single room. My main concern was if one of them got in

  while I was in that loud ass shower I wouldn't be able to hear it; I wouldn't know until it was too late. I knew the possibility of something like that was remote, the house was locked down as tight as a bank vault, but that is the nature of the curious creature known as paranoia; the possible seems absolute, and preposterous seems likely.

  I thought a good shower would wake me, loosen my muscles and make me more alert. It would be my first real bath in almost two months. With the electricity now out the water heater no longer worked, I estimated that the water tank still had some residual warm water in it and I decided to us it before it went cold. I could have fired up the generator but I wanted to save that as a last resort.

  I walked into the back bathroom and looked into the bathroom mirror, the first time I had done so in a very long time. I took stock, it had been a rough couple of months and the strain was visibly apparent. I was thin and gaunt; unusual for me. I had lost about thirty pounds so far. My hair was long and straggly and I had a thick scruffy beard for all my many weeks of isolation. It's been a rough ride, I thought to myself, time to get cleaned up. I filled the sink with lukewarm suds; the water in the tank was already beginning to cool. I

  lathered up and began to shave and with each pass of the razor I began to look something of myself again. I finished shaving and then turned my attention to my long locks of hair. I had a hair trimmer, but it was useless with no electricity. I grabbed my scissors, wet my scalp and started trimming. I cut carefully, filling the sink with dark, greasy clumps of matted hair. With the beard now gone and the hair trimmed back I looked like I had before all this started, and the absence of that nasty beard and thick hair left me feeling cool and refreshed. I cleaned up the hair in the sink and threw a few towels over the shower door. I turned the knobs and got in, not waiting for the water to warm up as what warmth remained was cooling by the second. I lathered and washed, rinsing the last of the shaving cream from my face. My hair was still greasy and encrusted despite having cut it back; a result of not bathing for such a long period. I shampooed my hair three times before it came clean and my scalp felt fresh again. I was filthy from the sweat and oil; I could smell my own stink. I stood in the shower for a while even after I was done, letting the water roll off my head and face; it felt good, really good! The water began to cool and surprisingly it felt as good if not better than the warm . . .perhaps my metabolism was jacked up and my body was running several degrees above normal, and the cold water cooled me off. I finished up, reached for the knobs, savoring the last few drops of the water as it dripped from the shower head. I braced my arms against the shower wall starring down as I watched the last few trickles of water go down the drain.

  “It's time, let's do this,” I thought to myself. I got dressed; jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers, It was already nine-thirty. And soon we would

  be on our way to Panatauk, or worse an early morning snack for some undead thing.

  I was ready.

  I called to Rick over the radio, “Rick, you there?”

  I
heard the scuffling as he reached for the device. “Yeah I'm here, How are you doing?”

  “I'm alright. Buddy this is it, are you ready?” I asked.

  “Brother, I am as ready as I'm going to get...” came his reply.

  “Okay, it's about ten . . . I will be there right around eleven. It might be a little after depending on what I have to deal with out there”, I told him.

  “We will be waiting. Even Amanda is ready to do this believe it or not.”

  “Can I talk to her real quick?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he handed the radio over to Amanda.

  “Hey there girl, how you doing?” I asked in a sympathetic tone.

  “I'm alright, Bruce thanks for helping me out.”

  “Listen, you guys are the closest things I have to family and I'm here for ya, we are going to get you through this okay? It's a scary thing I know, but Rick has talked to you about this. Don't think of these things as real people, they’re not hun,” I insisted. “It's just tissue; try not to think of it as anything more. Just stay close to Rick and I, we will get you through this. It's going to be fine, I promise.” I told her in my most reassuring voice.