Less Than Human

by Tim Meyer

  “So glad you could join the party,” Jason said.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ben kicked in the screen door, making his presence known. Not exactly the wisest of plans, but he figured he could draw the two remaining Barkers to the rear of the house, allowing Paul and Josh to reach the basement without being harassed. The plan made sense, at least in theory. Ben assumed there were would be complications, just as there had been every step of the way.

  His brain focused on Jake, seeing his face again in his mind's eye.

  Ben quickly glanced to the left, then to the right, his makeshift club in hand, ready to swing for the fences. He saw nothing in front of him except for an old washer and dryer that had once been white, but yellowed over the years due to prolonged nicotine exposure and poor maintenance. He moved into the laundry room, waving Victoria in.

  Victoria followed Ben through the living room. Ben expected one of the Barker women to jump out of the closet or from behind the couch with a kitchen knife in their hand, ready to slash them to bits.

  Ben sidestepped through the room, checking behind the couch, furniture, and any nook and cranny the room had to offer. When he was satisfied that the room was clear, he waved Victoria on once again.

  A voice spoke from the neighboring room.

  “So glad you could join the party,” someone said. Ben and Victoria exchanged looks. The voice was vaguely familiar, but they couldn't place it.

  Suddenly, it hit Ben. His eyes exploded with recognition. Victoria frowned. Then it hit her as well. Her eyebrows arched, her lips slowly parting.

  It was that mouthy little punk Ross fought earlier. Wasn't he dead? Ben thought. Then he realized they never actually saw him meet his demise. Only heard it. Or thought they had.

  They heard another voice utter “Holy shit.” That was Paul.

  Another asked Jason what he had done. That was Josh.

  Both voices harnessed a fearful tone.

  Ben carefully approached the doorway, holding Victoria's hand, guiding her.

  “I think we should slowly make an appearance,” Victoria suggested calmly. “What do you say?”

  Ben let go of her hand. He rummaged through his pocket, producing a key. He placed it in her hand.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “The key to the truck. Run to the basement, grab your girls and meet us out front.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Don't waste any more time.”

  She pocketed the key, kissed Ben on the cheek, and rushed back the way they came.

  Once she had disappeared into the hallway, Ben crept toward the doorway.

  Jason picked the head off the island's counter and started eating the sinew and bloody strands of tissue that dripped from the bottom of Momma Barker's head. He chewed the dangling muscle as if it were cherry licorice, laughing while swallowing. With his other hand, he was fondling his semi-erect penis. As he consumed the dead woman's gore, he peered at Josh and Paul, a childish grin spreading across his face.

  “Ah...” Jason said. “Delicious.” He faced the table where Bobbi-Jo was fastened by blood-stained rope. He ran his fingers up her leg until he reached her vagina, then stopped. He massaged it gently. She whimpered softly through the rolled pair of socks taped in her mouth. “The things I'm going to do to you,” he happily boasted.

  “Turn around you... f-fucking w-weirdo,” Paul stammered, pointing the gun at the young man.

  Jason stopped fingering Bobbi-Jo and faced them. “Ouch. I'm insulted,” he said sarcastically. “I'm afraid I've been called worse things. In my hometown, which happens to be a quaint little place outside of Atlanta, I'm called 'The Ripper.' After Jack, of course. I mostly stick to prostitutes—they disgust me—but, I'll make a few exceptions here and there.” He planted Momma Barker's head on the island. “These bitches underestimated me. They always do. They see a wimpy guy with glasses and a sharp mouth, and they think deep down I'm harmless. Well... I taught them, didn't I?”

  They didn't answer the rhetorical question.

  “Didn't I?” he asked more firmly.

  “Yes,” Josh said. “You sure did.” He felt like was going to be sick again. He wasn't sure if the drugs or the smell of blood was responsible for his nauseas.

  “That's right. I did,” Jason said. He patted the top of the old woman's head as if it were a good dog.

  Behind Jason, Josh saw Ben appear. He slowly entered the kitchen, being careful not to make a sound. He glided across the tile, raising his bludgeon above his head.

  “I'll make a deal with you and your friends. I know they're here somewhere,” he snarled. “Just let me be. Leave me here with the girls and let me have a little fun. In return, I won't follow you. I won't track you down and gut you like livestock. Deal?” Jason asked, smiling like a happy puppy.

  Josh and Paul nodded slowly.

  “Good. Now—”

  Jason felt something strike him from behind. He went down instantly, smashing his head on the counter before hitting the tile floor.

  “Jesus...” Ben said, upon noticing the old woman's head. He looked at Bobbi-Jo, who screamed to be unbound. “What the hell happened here?”

  Josh didn't answer. Instead, he threw up.

  Ben ripped the duct tape off her mouth. She spit out the pair of socks. Then screamed.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked.

  She spat at him and started raving. “You keep me away from that sick motherfucker!” she screamed. “Keep him the fuck away!”

  Ben turned away from her while she continued with her tantrum.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Paul asked. “We can't let the sick puppy live.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Wouldn't be right just shooting him in the head, I suppose? Considering what he done and all.”

  “We can't kill him,” Ben said. “He's not afraid of dying. It's just what he'd want us to do.”

  “I say we kick the shit out of him,” Josh muttered.

  “Josh...” Ben said.

  “Just a suggestion.”

  There was a moment of silence, Bobbi-Jo breaking it by screaming at the top of her lungs.

  “Where are the girls?” Paul asked.

  “Victoria went to the basement to grab them.”

  “We should go get them,” Josh said.

  “You two go,” Paul told them. “Go on. I'll clean up here.”

  “You sure?” Ben asked.

  The trucker nodded. He winked, then checked his rifle to make sure it had at least two bullets loaded. “Don't worry about it. You just get the girls out of here safely. I'll meet ya'll at the truck.”

  Ben nodded. Then he turned to Josh, motioning toward the hallway.

  Reluctantly, Josh followed.

  “Mom!” Brit cried out. She pressed her face against the chain-link cage. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  Emily peered through the cage, just as her sister, while their mother sped forth.

  “My babies,” she muttered somberly. “Did they hurt you?”

  The girls shook their heads.

  Victoria closed her eyes, relieved.

  “Do you have the key?” Brit asked.

  “What key?”

  “They cage is locked.”

  “Shit. I didn't think of that.”

  Creaky footfalls descending the stairs filled the basement.

  “Looking for this?” Ben asked. He held the shiny brass key in front of him like a cross used for fending off vampires.

  Victoria took it from him, grinning. She hurriedly turned back to her confined daughters. Once the lock was opened, the girls pushed open the cage and hugged their mother as if it had been years since their last encounter. There had been much debate whether they would ever see her again.

  Tears rolled down Brittany's cheeks, disappearing into her mother's shirt. Emily sobbed into her mother's shoulder.

  “I hate to break up the reunion,” Josh said, “but we should probably get going.”

  The three girls turned
to the two men, who looked like they had just come back from battle. Dirty. Bloody from cuts and scrapes on their arms and face. Worn faces that could use a few hours of sleep. Or perhaps a few days.

  “Josh is right. We don't have long before—”

  Before Ben could finish, glass shattered above them, the inhuman sounds of the gathering dead filled the first floor.

  Then the screams began.

  They reached the top of the stairs. Ben turned to Josh, handing him the key to the truck. “Take the girls to the truck. Give me two minutes. If I'm not out, leave without me.”

  Josh nodded, grabbing the key from Ben. He waved the three women on and the four of them disappeared into the hallway.

  Ben went the opposite way, following the sounds of the dead.

  What the hell are you thinking? his inner-voice asked. You should be running away from them, not toward them! Think of your son for fuck's sake!

  The voice was right. Why risk his life to save somebody he barely knew? Jake depended on him.

  I can't just let Paul die...

  Ben's conscious would never let him forgive himself. He had to try to save the man, pull him out of the fire so to speak. It was in his nature, his human nature, and Ben didn't really understand why anymore than he knew the intricacies of the universe. He only knew he had to try.

  Ben appeared in the doorway leading to the kitchen. His stomach plummeted. The zombies had broken through the back door, crowding the kitchen. At least fifteen of them. Several of them were latched onto Bobbi-Jo, ripping chunks of flesh away from her body with their jagged teeth. The teenager wailed as the monsters tore the meat away from her bones easily.

  Jason, “The Ripper” he had called himself, was on the floor, crawling away in crab-like fashion from the macabre scene unfolding on the table. A nearby zombie followed him, and unfortunately for Jason, it was quicker. The corpse lunged and grabbed the kid's legs, biting at his ankles. The psychopath yelped, thrashed his legs in hopes to separate himself. The zombie held on, aiming his next attack at the dangling organ between his legs. Jason let out a torturous scream when the corpse bit down on his flaccid penis and reared its back. The kid's floppy member snapped like a rubber band. An explosion of blood splashed over the zombie's face as it began devouring the reproductive organ. Jason started twitching on the floor, entering into some sort of seizure. The rest of the dead swarmed him, began consuming his untouched parts.

  Ben turned his head from the grisly scene, focusing his attention on the reason he went back. Paul Scott wrestled with a zombie, fending him off with the rifle. Paul caught Ben's gaze and shook his head, snarling.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Ben!” Paul screamed.

  Ben stepped forward to help, but an energized zombie jumped over the island and tackled Paul to the ground. The other zombie fell with them, and the two hissing beasts began gnawing on Paul's limbs. Ben backed into the hallway. Under the weight of the two corpses, Paul positioned the end of the rifle under his chin. He winked at Ben as the one of the zombies tore a scrap of flesh from his arm. Then, Paul pulled the trigger. His brains exploded through the top of his skull, painting the tile floor burgundy.

  Ben scampered out of the kitchen, the dead focusing their attention on the doorway.

  Josh saw Ben bound the porch steps, dozens of zombies in tow. They poured out of the Barker's house like bees from a hive. Some of them were quicker than others, but Ben was fastest. He ran across the front lawn as if the Grim Reaper were nipping his heels.

  “Start moving!” Ben shouted.

  Josh started to do what Ben had said when something caught his eye. It came shambling out of the Barker's country home. His body went numb and tingly. “Oh shit,” he muttered to himself. Olivia Vander stumbled down the steps after Ben. Her mother followed closely behind. Both women looked hideous; patches of skin was missing from their faces, exposing the raw muscle beneath; blood-soaked clothes; eyes containing no souls. She barely resembled the Olivia that Josh knew and almost loved.

  “Josh!” Ben screamed.

  Josh snapped out of his semi-romantic reveries, shifting the truck out of idle. Slowly, the truck crept away from the Victorian home. Ben did his best Bruce Willis impression, diving into the bed. Brit was there to help him in safely. Once his limbs cleared the end of the truck, Brit closed the gate. Josh slammed his foot on the gas. The truck sped off, spitting dirt and grass at the approaching horde.

  ENDS

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A DAY LATER...

  The truck died just outside of Brown Valley, Pennsylvania, the town Melissa had moved Jake to. The gas light had warned them many miles ago, but since none of them knew where the nearest pit stop was, they chanced it. The Barker Brothers had stripped them of their cellular devices, even though they would have been useless anyway. Ben thought back to the first day everything fell apart and remembered his cell phone refused to find a signal. Things don't look too different over here, he thought while cruising down the empty, residential streets.

  They saw signs pointing toward Brown Valley and Ben told them they were close. As soon as they reached the border, the engine sputtered and finally ceased. Josh cranked it a few more times just to make sure. It choked, but never started.

  “Looks like were hoofing it,” Josh told them.

  “What if they are out there?” Emily asked.

  Josh turned to her. “Then we probably shouldn't wait around for them, right?”

  They were out there. Ben could smell them, that old familiar odor.

  “Let's hurry,” Ben suggested, hopping out of the cab.

  The five of them started down the street.

  “Do you know where you're going, man?” Josh asked, following the rest of the group.

  “732 Crown Avenue.”

  “And which way is that?” Josh asked.

  Ben sighed. “I don't know. But this town isn't that big.”

  “So we're just going to what—walk around aimlessly until we find it?”

  Ben shrugged. “Got a better idea?”

  “Let's head back to the highway. There's gotta be a convenience store something. Maybe they have a map.”

  “That's backtracking.”

  “Sometimes you gotta go backwards before you can move forward,” Josh said confidently.

  Ben closed his eyes, shaking his head. “You go. I gotta find my son.”

  Victoria looked around. “I have to be honest, Ben. Things don't look very... lively.” She surveyed the surrounding houses. Ranches. Most of them appeared empty. Abandoned. No signs of life. “Do you think whatever happened... reached here?”

  “No,” Ben said immediately. “No, they probably evacuated once they heard about the East Coast.”

  “What makes you think your ex and son are still here?” Brittany asked. “Wouldn't they have evacuated with the rest of them?”

  “I told them I was coming.” Ben shrugged. “But they might have. If it wasn't safe anymore. I'd like to think my ex would at least give me some time to get out here. Things were looking up the last I spoke with her. We had just been saved. Remember?” Ben smiled.

  “Saved. Yeah, right. Funny.”

  “I wonder what my ex is doing right now,” Victoria asked, hoping to change the subject.

  “Hopefully he's dead,” Brittany muttered.

  “Brittany! Don't talk about your father like that. Not in front of your sister.”

  “It's okay, Mom. I never knew him anyway,” Emily told her.

  “Still... that's not the point.”

  “What? He's a scumbag, drug addict.” Brittany nodded to Josh. “No offense.”

  “Oh, none taken,” Josh said sarcastically. He changed his tone immediately. “Ben, I have to protest. We need a map. Otherwise we'll be here for days looking for Crown Avenue.”

  Ben stopped in the middle of the street. While his eyes darted from house to house, toward neighboring streets, an overwhelming, panicky sensation coursed through him. He placed his hands on hi
s knees, preparing to vomit.

  “You okay?” Victoria asked.

  “Just tired.”

  “Ben? Map?” Josh asked.

  It took Ben a moment, but clarity washed over him. Nodding, he rose. “We can search the houses. Someone is bound to have a map.”

  “I doubt many people have a map of their hometown just sitting around, but yeah,” Josh said. “It's worth a shot.”

  “Better than walking around aimlessly, right?” Brit asked.

  “Right.”

  “Okay.” Ben pointed to Josh. “You take Brit and Emily. Victoria come with me.”

  “I'm not leaving my babies again,” Victoria said sternly.

  “Mom—” Brit started to say, her face reddening.

  “Don't Mom me.” Her eyes welled. “I almost lost you two before. It's never going to happen again. Understand?”

  Together, Brit and Emily nodded.

  “Okay. I'll go by myself,” Ben said.

  “I'll go with you,” Josh said.

  “No, you go with the girls.”

  Josh didn't argue.

  “Five minutes in each house. Not a second longer. We meet back in the street before entering the next one. Agreed?”

  Josh and the girls agreed silently.

  The first house they stepped foot in had been ransacked. The refrigerator was open and empty. The stained oak cabinets were ajar, unwanted contents tossed haphazardly on the countertop. Pet bowls filled to the brim remained untouched. Chairs around the kitchen table were pushed over. The couch cushions were overturned, a few them on the floor.

  “I don't feel safe in here,” Victoria told Josh.

  “Let's go. It's impossible to find anything in this mess anyway.”

  They quickly rushed out of the house, ran down the driveway, and waited in the street for Ben to finish his search. A minute later, Ben emerged from the front door, looking as depressed as he had upon entering.

  “Anything?” Josh asked.