by Lee, S. G.
“Yeah, I think that’ll work, Billy boy,” Chuck chuckled before popping a handful of pills into his mouth. “The way I figure, she owes us. Seein’ as how she was gonna steal our stash.”
“Please, Chuck, you have to believe me. I swear ... I was never going to steal your stash. I was only coming to get some antibiotics for my sick sister.”
Chuck looked at Emma for a moment and then backhanded her.
“Looks like our Lil Delilah here ain’t so bright. Girl, I’m not gonna tell ya again. Keep your trap shut!” Chuck pressed the barrel of his gun against Emma’s temple and said, “I think you’d better do like Ol’ Billy says before I get angry.”
Emma closed her eyes and nodded. With trembling hands, she slowly unzipped her jacket and let it drop to the floor, causing Billy to let out an excited whoop. A desperate and risky plan popped into her head; she knew it might get her killed but she had no other options. Emma clumsily unbuttoned the top button of her shirt with her left hand. With her right hand, she raised one finger to her lips and made a shh sound. She then reached over and unfastened one of the buttons on Chuck’s flannel shirt. With her heart in her throat, she looked to Chuck for approval. Chuck nodded and Emma continued with the rest of his buttons. Once Emma stopped, she tapped Chuck on the chest and motioned at Billy.
“Heh, whaddya know,” Chuck cackled. “It looks like Delilah wants us to take our clothes off too, Billy. We’re gonna have ourselves a real good time.”
Emma tried to smile seductively but she was sure it only made her look more frightened. Chuck wriggled out of his flannel shirt and let it drop to the floor. Billy set his rifle on the counter and began tugging excitedly at his own clothing. Emma dropped to one knee and toyed with the snap on Chuck’s faded blue jeans.
With a smile, Chuck reached for a bottle of little blue pills. After the collection of the drugs he’d popped, Chuck wanted to be sure he could rise to the occasion. When he set his gun down to open the bottle, Emma knew it was now or never. She pulled the handgun out of her waistband and fired into Chuck’s crotch. A warm spray of blood spattered Emma’s face, dripping from her hair onto her shirt.
Still tangled in his clothes, Billy tried to reach for his rifle. Before he could grab it, Emma unloaded two shots into the left side of his chest and Ol’ Billy fell with a thud. Chuck rolled on the floor, howling in pain and holding his bloody groin. Emma fired a bullet into Chuck’s forehead and then there was silence.
At the first shot, Matt and Evan dropped what they were doing. They ran full force toward the pharmacy. By the time they got there, Emma was filling her backpack with antibiotics and first aid supplies. The fact that she was covered in blood meant little to her. Her once-white shirt was soaked in red and tiny droplets fell from her hair.
“I’m just about done here,” Emma said nonchalantly. “Let’s get the rest and get out of here.” Matt tried to press Emma for an explanation but, suspecting the truth would be too much for them to endure, she shrugged it off. “Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.”
Gunshots echoing through the store had roused the undead and atrophied legs shuffled in their direction. A chorus of moans reverberated up and down the aisles in a growing crescendo.
“Great, looks like we’ve got company,” Matt groaned.
He dug a box of shells from his backpack and handed some to his sister. Lining up along the counter, Matt, Emma, and Evan prepared for their enemy. The first of many zombies ambled into sight. Rotted, gray skin had peeled away revealing bone, but the vile creature only sought prey. Without hesitation, Evan fired two shots into its head. The body dropped to the floor but four more took its place. Shots rang out; deafening blasts drowning out the telltale moans of the walking corpses. A dense haze of acrid gun smoke clung to the air making it too thick for accurate aim, but they kept firing. Evan held up his hand as a signal for them to stop. Only the dulcet tones of piped in muzak hummed through the overhead speakers.
“The coast is clear,” Matt whispered.
They slipped out the pharmacy’s side door marked ‘employees only’ and snuck silently around the pile of decayed and oozing corpses.
“Hold up,” Evan commanded, eyeing Emma. “You need a new shirt.”
With a nod, Emma perused the closest rack. She selected a burgundy t-shirt and headed toward the dressing room. Both Evan and Matt stepped forward to stop her.
“What are you doing?” Evan asked dumbfounded.
“Getting changed. Duh!”
Ah, the old Emma is back, Matt thought with a smile.
“Think again,” Evan answered. “There’s no way you’re leaving my sight again.”
Matt let them bicker for a moment before demanding that they knock it off.
“You two sound like an old married couple,” he scoffed.
With blood-free clothes and their bags stuffed with supplies they headed to the door. Dump bins near the check lanes overflowed with an assortment of paperback books but one caught Emma’s attention.
“I can’t believe it,” Emma gasped, holding up a copy of Journal of the Undead: A Survivor’s Guide by Dr. G.E. Mitchell.
She stuffed it in her bag then followed the boys outside. Running past reanimated corpses, they hopped on their bikes and pedaled home.
A sinister moaning echoing from a nearby alley warned them as swarms of rotting bodies pressed in from every angle. Surrounded on all sides, the three peddled hard and made a break for the recently abandoned Town Hall.
“The trees,” Evan yelled, pointing at the towering oaks shading the stately hall.
They stashed their bikes in the bed of a parked pickup truck and climbed up to the strong, upper limbs. Safely out of arm’s reach, they regrouped and reloaded. The street below was blocked by a massive parade of the undead. Hundreds of decomposing carcasses shuffled in sync, their moans like the beat of a drum keeping time. Emma stared in horror at the mass moving toward them.
“Still think zombies aren’t scary, Em?” Matt japed.
Emma scowled at her twin and flipped an obscene gesture in his direction.
“Emma!” Evan cried in mock outrage, shaking his head.
Like waves crashing on the shore, hordes of zombies flooded Main Street. Not even in her worst nightmare had Emma ever imagined such a horrific scene. How could this happen? she thought incredulously. She shook her head in dismay then took aim. The closest target was a middle-aged woman in a bright yellow jogging suit. Through the scope of her rifle, Emma watched the shot disappear into the woman’s gray-green forehead before blasting out a flap beside the ear. Instead of blood, a thick, dark sludge oozed from the wound. The body collapsed and soon its bright yellow suit was lost under a pile of corpses. Unable to flex their atrophied knees, the zombies fell over the obstacle at their feet.
As a volley of gunfire rained down on the unsuspecting creatures, bodies piled up like a wall of rotting flesh. Emma’s shoulder throbbed from the repeated kick of her gun but she pressed on until Evan gave the signal to stop. The street was clogged with bullet-riddled corpses baking under the warm autumn sun. The putrid stench of decayed remains hung heavy in the air.
“Aren’t we supposed to burn them?” Emma asked. She was positive she’d read that in the book. “Bad enough we left them in the Walmart, but we can’t just leave this rotting mess in the middle of Main Street. We could look for some cleaning supplies inside Town Hall. If there’s one thing I learned from my many months of domestic servitude, stuff like glass cleaner is really flammable.”
Emma and Matt both chuckled. Evan suspected there was a story there but they had no time for reminiscing.
“Yes, Emma, they should be burned but we’re not going wandering through Town Hall looking for a janitor’s closet. Blindly entering a building without knowing the floor plan is super dangerous; we have no idea what could be lurking in there. But leaving the street filled with decaying bodies is unsanitary, to say the least.”
Matt suggested checking Blaney’s Hardware instead.
The front display window had been smashed and the door had been ripped off its hinges. Even from the trees they could see the store was empty, and no zombies rattled around inside.
“That could work. Besides, turpentine and paint thinner burn hotter and faster than an industrial-sized bottle of Windex. If we’re lucky, there might even be some lighter fluid left.”
Proud that he’d contributed, Matt beamed. They decided that Emma would remain in the tree as their lookout and, if necessary, provide cover fire. The boys carefully checked their surroundings before racing inside the store.
They gathered up the most flammable liquids they could find before hurrying back, arms loaded with bottles and canisters. Matt launched a bottle of lighter fluid into the air. It landed with a smack on the asphalt. The plastic bottle shattered, spilling its contents onto the street. The boys quickly hurled the rest of their stockpile at the mounds of rotting remains.
Evan reserved his last bottle of lighter fluid. He opened it and squirted a stream on the closest body. A tiny current of liquid poured behind him as he walked back toward the tree. Matt dropped a lit match onto the trail of lighter fluid and watched as it burned a line straight to the heap of slain zombies. Each tiny river, flowing with liquid chemicals, carried fire along with it. Soon, the pile in the street was engulfed in flames. Pleased with their work, the boys hoisted their bicycles out of the flatbed and waited as Emma scrambled down from the tree.
Thick black smoke billowed from the pyre and quick blasts erupted as a new bottle or canister ignited. With their zombie roast well under way, they decided to head home. Though they pedaled upwind, the smell of burning flesh permeated the air.
Emma stopped to look back at the blaze. The fire had spread, not only up the street, but to the parked cars as well. The chemicals had caused such a hot flame that the tires were melting.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” Emma mumbled as she watched flames completely swallow a vehicle. With a loud blast, the car’s gas tank ignited. Starting a chain reaction, other gas tanks followed suit and cars popped into the air like massive kernels of popcorn. Completely out of control, the flames spread to the adjacent buildings in an unstoppable path toward downtown. Taking their cue, Evan, Matt, and Emma peddled as fast as they could to get far away from the smoldering wreckage.
Once they were safely out of range they stopped to catch their breath. Evan reached into his bag, pulled out a bottle of water, and handed it to Emma. She took a few gulps then handed it off to Matt, who did the same. Once Evan quenched his thirst, he tucked the bottle back into his pack, making a mental note to refill it later. The three looked off in the distance at the black smoke rising. Wiping the soot from their faces, they watched until shrill fire sirens cut through the air.
“That was,” Matt paused, searching for the right word, “epic.”
Their laughter was cut short by the distant sound of moaning.
“We’d better get moving,” Evan said, and they were off again.
***
A few blocks later, Evan noticed Matt was lagging behind. With the exception of his ride the other day, he had not been on a bike in months. Not wanting to admit that his know-it-all sister had been right, Matt was trying desperately to keep up. His legs ached and the inside of his thighs were chafed raw. Matt was convinced that if they biked all the way to West Virginia he would never be able to father children. Seeing Thompson Auto up ahead, he groaned. A huge broadly smiling portrait of the owner, Joe Thompson, loomed on the billboard above. Even he’s mocking me, Matt thought gloomily. Rows of polished cars and trucks gleamed in the sunlight and beckoned as he pedaled by. He longingly eyed a cherry red convertible and imagined cruising on a picturesque road—top down, radio blaring, hot chick in a bikini snuggled up next to him. He was so lost in his own daydream that he didn’t notice Emma had skidded to a halt. At the last second, he swerved to avoid running over her.
“That one!” Emma announced, pointing. “It’s perfect!”
She propped her bike up on its kickstand and sprinted across the street toward a shiny extended cab pickup. She studied the fact sheet that had been pasted to the passenger side window and smiled. The boys pulled up alongside Emma and looked at her quizzically.
“See, it’s perfect. The crew cab can hold six comfortably. We’re only five, plus Lucy is really tiny. This was a custom job. The original owner was Joe Thompson. Look, they added a second gas tank and, since it’s a hybrid, we should be able to get to your cabin without stopping for gas. It’s got four-wheel drive, off road tires, and this grille guard looks like a battering ram! And check this out—this is the best part—it has a custom bike rack. Look, the bikes stand upright in the bed. It will be easier if we need to make a quick getaway. The moon roof retracts so, if we needed to, someone could be targeting zombies from above. Like I said, it’s perfect!”
“Look at that price tag. No wonder it’s so expensive, with all that custom work added,” Matt laughed.
“Emma, I thought we went through this already. Didn’t we agree that we were riding our bikes like the book recommended?”
“Maybe we should hear her out,” Matt interjected. “I mean, after all, it would be really hard on little Lucy to keep up ...”
Matt’s voice trailed off when both Emma and Evan looked at him skeptically.
“Ok, fine!” Matt blurted out. “My back is killing me, my calves are in knots, and the inside of my thighs are so raw they’re probably bleeding!”
Emma smiled triumphantly at her twin and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Told ya so!” she quipped before spinning on her heels. “Let’s go find the keys!”
Matt’s jaw clenched tightly; he was in no mood for gloating. Evan stepped between the twins to keep Matt from smacking her in the back of her head. With their rifles ready, the three headed to the main office of the dealership. Evan pounded loudly on the door and listened for moaning. When silence was the only reply, they opened the door. It seemed that whoever had been working took off without locking up. It didn’t take long to locate the truck’s keys and load their bikes onto the rack. Since Emma found the truck, she insisted that she should be the one to drive it. With the exception of taking out a few mailboxes and plowing over some zombies, they made it home without incident.
“Where did that come from?” Kate pointed to the truck as she greeted them in the driveway.
She’d been a nervous wreck the whole time they were gone, but breathing was easier now that they were home. She hugged them tightly while wondering why they were covered in black soot. Underneath the grime, Emma was yet again spattered in blood. It was harder to see through the grime, but it was there.
“So, is anyone going to tell me what happened and why you’re all filthy?”
They gave Kate a quick overview but withheld more than they told. As an excuse to avoid more questioning, Evan, Matt, and Emma disappeared to wash up and change clothes.
As Kate made lunch she realized that in all likelihood it would be a long time before they’d be able to return to their home. She wanted to make their last meals in Littleville memorable, so after lunch she had Lucy pull out stacks of board games and puzzles for them to play.
“You’re trying to play with every single toy you have before we leave, aren’t you, Lu?” Evan teased.
Lucy laughed as the twins playfully accused each other of cheating at Monopoly. Joining in the charade, Kate and Evan pretended to referee the heated debate.
“Shh!” Matt shushed Emma and clamped his hand over her mouth.
He was no longer playing. A chorus of moans rose from across the street. Evan motioned for everyone to be silent as he crept to the window. As quietly as possible, Evan unlatched the lock on the shutters and opened them just wide enough to see outside. The sun had dipped below the horizon but the sky was still ablaze in colors from deep indigo to brilliant fuchsia. If not for the serenade below, Pine Tree Court would have been silent. Kate pressed in for a closer look and Lucy followed her lead. Her
first instinct was to push Lucy back in an attempt to protect her from the horrors outside.
“Let her see, Mom,” Evan whispered. “Like it or not, in about twelve hours Lucy’s gonna see them face to face. She needs to be prepared.”
Evan had been trying to gently prepare his sister for what was in store. He hoped that seeing it from a safe distance would make it easier.
“Look,” Lucy said, “it’s the ice cream man!”
Evan shushed his little sister but she was right. The kind old man from the ice cream parlor stumbled aimlessly below. His intestines dangled from the gaping hole in his abdomen and trailed down to his knees. His trademark apron had been ripped to shreds and was now draped cockeyed over one arm. He was joined by a lanky teen in a Flyers jersey and an undead FedEx driver.
“He’s not the ice cream man anymore,” Kate solemnly replied, then proceeded to explain to Lucy what happened when humans become infected with the virus. Lucy said she understood but sobbed when Evan fired into the zombies’ heads.
***
For the hundredth time, Evan checked their bags. He made sure everything was packed and ready. In the morning, they would be heading out and he wanted to avoid delays. Dinner had been a somber affair. Rather than carting everything upstairs, they ate at the dining room table, family style.
The boys tried everything to lift Lucy’s spirits. They told silly jokes and even slurped their spaghetti noisily. Ordinarily, Kate would not have approved of their table manners, but under the circumstances she let it slide. Lucy didn’t crack a smile until Evan tossed a meatball into the air then caught it in his mouth. Kate drew the line when Matt lobbed a half-eaten meatball into Emma’s hair. The sauce looked too much like blood and she’d had her fill of seeing Emma’s curls splattered with gore. After dinner, and with a great deal of persuasion, Lucy and Emma convinced Kate to play her piano.