by Paul Seiple
"Just give me three," he said.
"It's 2017. We do take plastic, ya know?"
Nick didn't laugh.
"Tell you what, I'll just give you the fourth. It's not in the inventory. It probably doesn't work anyway. New total is thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents."
Nick handed Benny two twenties. A chill danced up his spine when he looked into Benny's eyes. A fine milky film covered Benny's green pupils.
"You OK? All the color just left your face," Benny said.
Nick shoved the enclosures into a plastic bag. "I'm fine. How are you feeling, Benny?"
"Now that you mention it, I have a bit of a headache," Benny paused to rub his forehead. "And I'm a little hungry." He looked at his watch. "Lunch is in about thirty minutes. I think I'll live."
Benny chuckled. A rush of warm stench took Nick's breath away. He grabbed the bag and backed away from Benny.
"Don't forget your receipt. I can't take them back without it."
Benny stepped around the sales counter toward Nick.
"Benny. How's it going, old man?"
A young guy, probably in his early twenties, tapped Bennie on the shoulder.
"I'm here to relieve you. Ernest said to give you an early lunch."
Nick sighed and turned away. A shrill scream froze him in the aisle.
"Benny, what the hell…"
Benny lunged at his co-worker, grabbing the kid by the shoulders and tossing him against a video game endcap. The kid tried to pry himself from Benny's grasp, but the old man was too strong.
"Get off me, Benny."
Nick watched, surrounded in a shroud of horror. He knew what was happening. He knew he should help. But he knew the danger of getting close to someone infected.
Benny grabbed the side of the kid's head and forced it toward the floor, exposing the kid's neck. Benny sank his teeth into flesh, tearing at the kid's neck like a wild animal.
"Excuse me," a woman said, pushing her shopping cart by Nick.
Nick placed his hand on the cart. "You need to run."
"What?"
The woman caught a glimpse of Benny feasting on his co-worker. She screamed, drawing Benny's attention. He sprang up and sprinted toward the woman. With all the force he had, Nick pushed the cart toward Benny. It hit the old man in the thighs, sending him to the floor. The cart toppled over on him.
"Run," Nick said.
The woman turned and tripped over her own foot. Benny pounced, shoving her face into the linoleum. He bit into her shoulder. Her muffled screams turned to whimpers. Nick didn't try to help. Guilt would surely come, but Nick knew the truth. Nothing could help her.
"Q, where are you? We have to go," Nick said, running toward the produce section. "Q?"
Q dropped a bushel of bananas into the cart.
"Thank god. We have to go," Nick said, rounding the corner, knocking over a stand of apples. He grabbed the front of Q's cart and pulled it toward the entrance of the store.
"We have to pay for that," Q said. "What's going on, Nick?"
A series of screams echoed through the store.
"That's what's going on. I've joked about Wal-Mart turning into a zombie apocalypse, but it's really happening."
Nick let go of the cart. Q pushed it through the doors.
"Stop. You didn't pay for…"
Before the greeter completed his sentence, Benny knocked him against a drink machine and clawed at his cheek. A security guard grabbed Benny by the shoulders and tossed him into a row of shopping carts.
"I don't know what's wrong with you, Benny. But you better stay down," the guard said. He stood nearly six-feet-five and had a good one hundred and fifty pounds on Benny.
Two cashiers rushed to the aid of the greeter. One of the women helping the greeter wiped at the blood on his face. She fell back in horror seeing how deep the gashes were; the greeter's cheekbone was exposed.
"It's going to be OK, Larry. Just hold on."
Customers stampeded toward the exit, creating congestion at the doors. Obscenities flew through the air like a swarm of angry hornets. People began to push and punch each other. As one person fell, another stepped on them, trying to escape the store.
"Calm the fuck down," the security guard said, pulling people away from the fallen woman.
The crowd ignored him and continued to push through the doors. Knocking one door off track, a pile of bodies tumbled onto the asphalt. They got to their feet and scattered in all directions like roaches under a spotlight.
Q and Nick watched from the car.
"I was just talking to the guy," Nick said.
Nick started the car. Q grabbed his arm.
"Let's wait a few minutes."
"I thought you didn't like playing games, Q. I'm not fond of playing with my life."
"I need to see how this plays out."
Four people ran by the Datsun. A woman dropped her purse and didn't miss a beat. More customers fell through the doors onto the pavement.
"I wouldn't have known if that report hadn't been on TV," Nick said. "His eyes…"
Another herd of people raced through the parking lot. A boy fell. His mother grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the car.
"What about the eyes?" Q asked.
"They were cloudy. I didn't notice at first. I was too busy trying to find the enclosures."
"Did he say or do anything else odd?"
"Not until he ate that kid," Nick said. A nervous chuckle followed his words. "Oh, his breath was horrible. Like coffee, Muenster cheese, and a week old dead rat."
"He ate a kid?"
"Right in front of me. The poor bastard came to relieve him, and he attacked him. Like a wolf, he went straight for the throat."
"It doesn't make sense. In the video of Matthew Broome attacking those cops, he was incapable of speech. But you're saying the guy held a conversation with you before killing his co-worker?"
"Eating his co-worker. He ate him, Q. But, yeah, he was coherent. Even gave me deal on the enclosures."
A kid ran backwards by the Datsun filming the hysteria on his phone.
"Soon the whole world will be like this parking lot," Nick said.
Fifteen
Nick eased the Datsun by the Welcome to Black Dog sign, which was riddled with holes from what looked to be the result of a shotgun blast.
"We need to be careful. Richard Knox is probably still lurking," Q said.
Nick cruised at less than twenty miles per hour into the town. The streets were littered with garbage, debris from trees, and remnants of unfortunate townsfolk.
"I can't believe our government did this to these people," Nick said.
"Hendricks did this to Black Dog. Our government just covered it up," Q said.
"Oh, well that makes it so much better."
"There's a diner near a lake. It's probably the best place for us to set up. I think you can see all sides of the town from there."
"Best thing I heard all day. I need a good cup of coffee."
Nick took a left at a row of what once were quaint ranch-style homes. A mangled sign that read Luther's Diner came into view.
"That's it," Q said.
Nick pulled into one of the four parking spots in front of the diner.
"Guess most people walked here," Nick said, killing the engine.
The top glass panel in the front door was missing, leaving only a shadow of itself in the form of jagged edges around the frame. The bottom panel was intact but spiderwebbed.
Nick stepped out of the car and froze. "Did you hear that?"
"The leaves rustling? There’s a lot of trees around here," Q said, grabbing one of the gas cans they filled just before coming into Black Dog.
A swift breeze lifted Nick's hair, brushing through the hipster haircut.
"Maybe it was," Nick said. He bent down to get the bag of enclosures and got a whiff of something that reminded him of Benny. A bloodstained Doc Marten came into view. Nick was too afraid to look up. He called out to Q,
who was already in the diner.
Through the dirt-covered window, Q saw Richard Knox standing over Nick.
"Run, Nick."
Nick stumbled. He placed his palm on the ground to retain and balance. Knox grabbed the back of his shirt and flung him into the side of the car. Nick's head met the corner of the open door. His world went black.
"Hey, over here, asshole. I'm the one you want," Q said, waving his arms over his head as he exited the diner. "Remember me?"
Knox moved around the back of the car at an erratic, methodical pace. Q didn't need to see Knox's eyes to know that he was infected. Q was relieved by the diagnosis. It would be easier to outwit a zombie than an elite-trained war veteran.
"Come on, you stupid bastard," Q said, luring Knox away from Nick.
Q surveyed the area for anything he could use as a weapon. The only thing near was a shard of glass, but that would require getting too close to Knox. He was dead, but that didn't mean the same thing it did a week ago. Q still feared Knox's strength. Q sprinted a few steps toward the lake.
"Here doggie, doggie," Q said.
Knox picked up his pace, but it wasn't fast enough to alarm Q. The dead man swayed left, then right, nearly tumbling to the ground. The lack of balance made Q feel a bit better about hand-to-hand combat if it got to that point.
Nick's eyelids fluttered as he woke. He heard Q calling out.
"Come on, just a few more steps," Q said, glancing over his shoulder for any obstacles that could trip him up.
Knox steadied his walk a bit. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but only a short burst of dry heaves spewed from his lips.
Nick opened his eyes to find tiny circles dancing erratically through his vision. He blinked fast. It only made it worse, like hyper spacing through an asteroid field. Pain pounded the left side of his head and made its way through to the right. He touched behind his left ear. His hair was wet with a thick substance that matted it to his head. Nick's vision was still impaired, but he didn't need to see to know the liquid was blood. He braced his shoulder against the car and closed his eyes again.
Q held his position and waited for Knox to come closer. As Knox grew closer, the air swelled with decay. Q didn't have long to decide his next move. He thought about trying to drown Knox, but he was already dead. The only way to stop the dead man was to pierce his brain. There wasn't enough time to sharpen a stick.
A branch snapped behind Q, startling him. The back of his heal caught an exposed tree root. Q fell. The sight of wounded prey caused Knox to lunge forward. Q turned on his side to roll out of the way. There was a loud bang, followed by what was left of Knox's gray matter exploding in the air just above Q.
Nick opened his eyes as his ears rang from the ricocheting noise against the car. Q scrambled behind a patch of weeds.
"You can't play with those things."
Q made an opening with his hand and peered through the brush. A young girl, maybe sixteen, seventeen at the most, stood beside an oak.
"There's no reasoning with the dead," she said.
Nick grabbed the Datsun's door and pulled himself to his feet. The girl aimed the gun in his direction. Nick flung his arms above his head.
"I'm alive," Nick said. "Don't shoot me."
Q stood up. The girl ran behind the oak.
"It's OK. We're not going to hurt you," Q said.
"Damn right you're not. I'm the one with the gun."
"I'm Q, and that's my friend Nick."
"What are you doing here? No one comes here with good intentions," the girl said.
"We're scientists. How many more living, breathing people are here?" Q asked.
The girl stepped away from the tree. She was skinny, almost skeletal. Her face was dirty, several twigs entwined with her brown hair. She looked as though she was raised by the woods.
"The last scientists who came here died," she said.
"Did the dead kill them?" Q asked
"No. The government killed them. I'm the only person left."
"What's your name?" Q asked.
"Why are you here? This place is dead."
"We have important work to do, and Starbucks was just too loud. We need quiet," Nick said.
"Starbucks still exists?" she asked.
"For now," Nick said.
"What I wouldn't give for a pumpkin spice latte," she said. “Wait, is it fall yet?”
"I got a Snickers bar," Nick said, reaching into his pocket.
"I'm Daria," she said, taking the candy bar from Nick. She looked at Q. "That thing would have taken your head off."
"Did you live here before…" Q asked.
"Nah. Me and a group of friends came here to camp after the town was off limits," Daria said.
"What happened to your friends?" Q asked.
"Assholes like that one." Daria pointed to Knox. "We were camping just outside of town. We didn't think anyone was left here. And we sure as hell didn't think zombies would be here…" Daria took a bite of the candy bar. "We were wrong. There was a group of people here. Two or three helicopters came. About ten like that one." She pointed to Knox again. "Wiped out everyone, including my friends and my sister. By the way, she's roaming somewhere around here. I don't have the heart to end her. She’s slow. You can outrun her."
"How did you escape?" Q asked.
"Luck, I guess. I hid in a drainage ditch down by the lake until the massacre was over. I've been bouncing around ever since."
"Why didn't you leave?" Nick asked.
"I figured it was safer here with a handful of zombies than out there with god knows how many, and then government is being all hostile. So, why are you really here?"
"Whatever is turning people into those things…"
Daria interrupted Q. "He was an asshole long before he was a zombie."
Q chuckled. "I found that out first hand. I came here a few days ago. He tried to kill me before he became infected."
"Why were you here?"
"The government sent me here to try to find a cure," Q said.
"So, the government brought you here to kill you?" Daria asked.
"Pretty much, but some guy helped me get away. He gave me a backpack with the hard drives from the computers here," Q said.
"Grish?"
"Yeah, did you know him?” Q asked.
“He helped me a few times get away from those Neanderthals the government sent. I liked him. He wasn’t part of the government. Said he was with the resistance or something,” Daria said.
“He seemed to have a knack for saving people, but the government is still trying to kill me," Q said.
"Me too, just for hanging around him," Nick said. "It's bullshit."
"We needed a safe place to check out what's on the hard drives," Q said.
"So, you came here…to the place it all started?" Daria asked.
"You said yourself, you're the only living person here," Q said.
"I've declared myself Queen of Black Dog. I'll let you stay on one condition," Daria said.
"I'm not driving to Starbucks," Nick said.
"I want to be a part of this. I want to make sure my friends and my sister didn't die in vain."
"Well, grab a gas can and come on, then," Q said.
"Looks like this place has seen some action," Nick said, stepping over a pile of bones held together by a waitress uniform.
Daria placed the gas can on a table. Another set of bones minus a skull slumped against a window in the booth across from her. These bones were covered with a light blue polo that had the letters CDC stitched on the right pocket area and dark blue pants.
Q caught a glance of the bones and dropped the gas can he was holding. The plastic can hit the linoleum floor, sending an echo off the walls like a gunshot. Nick dove behind the lunch counter. Daria dropped to her knees.
"Sorry," Q said.
"Jeez, man, there's enough things around here trying to kill me. I don't need to add you giving me a heart attack to the list," Daria said.
Nick
rose only enough so that his eyes were flush with the countertop.
"I think I know…" Q paused. "…I think I knew her."
"The one in the booth?" Daria asked.
There was no thinking, Q knew the person who met her end in the diner. The light blue polo and dark blue pants were signature for Dr. Carrie Byrd. Q worked with her years ago at the CDC. Her uniform was blue polo and pants. It never wavered.
"Yeah. I used to work with her," Q said.
"How can you tell? It doesn't have a head," Daria said.
"She doesn't have a head." Q put emphasis on the word “she.”
Nick stood up. "Who is she, Q?"
"It's Carrie."
"Carrie Byrd?" Nick asked.
"Yeah. CDC must have sent her when the outbreak started." Q peered under the table. A skull rested on a bed of broken ceramic from a coffee mug. A good portion of the right side of the skull was missing. Q took a deep breath. "We can't help her, but we can help others. Let's get started."
Nick placed a MacBook Pro on the counter.
"We've got about four hours before it needs to charge. I need to see if there is a generator around here or you need to work really fast," Nick said.
"I've got one," Daria said. "I found it on a back porch. It's out of gas, but you've got that covered.”
"How far is it?" Q asked.
"Five minutes tops. I've been camping out in a house that's pretty secluded. I'll go get it," Daria said.
"I'll go with you. Nick, get the hard drives ready."
"Just call me ‘grunt work’ Nick."
Q lagged behind Daria. With each step, Q's head swiveled, anticipating an ambush. Black Dog didn't look to be a threat. There were no signs of the war zone it became months ago. No remnants of the controlled explosions. There weren't many bodies in the streets. Silence blanketed the town where the apocalypse started. The peacefulness lent an air of nervousness to the walk.
"If you stay in the middle of the road, you're safe. They're slow. They're not going to sneak up on you," Daria said. "Besides, I'm pretty sure the only one left is my sister, and she never ran for anything."
"I'm sorry about your sister and your friends."
"Shit happens. If you poke a hornet's nest, you're going to get stung. We shouldn't have been stupid. We should have stayed away from here."