by Tim Meyer
Ben shook his head. “You?”
“Nope. We're heading to the next one.”
Ben nodded.
He opened the front door, immediately smelling it. Something rotten. Shit. At first he stepped back, not wanting to risk the chance of tangling with dead again. Going almost twenty-four hours without seeing a walking corpse was a streak Ben wasn't anxious to break. However, he felt something tugging at him. Begging him to enter.
Hesitantly, Ben stepped foot in the house.
The living room was trashed, much like the neighbor's house. What the hell happened here? His nerves were on edge. What if we reach Melissa's and it's like this? It was a plausible scenario, one he wasn't quite prepared to handle. He kept telling himself that it was okay, that Crown Avenue—for all he knew—was on the other end of town. Maybe nothing bad happened there yet. Yet. Dread set in. His stomach felt hollow. His heart pumped abnormally fast. He closed his eyes, praying to whatever God allowed this to happen, begging Him for his son's safety.
Something moved above him.
Ben's eyes shot open. He listened closely. The quiet noise repeated. Ben glanced at the ceiling.
Jesus Christ. There's someone up there.
Ben sprinted toward the stairs. He bounded three steps at a time until he reached the corridor. He looked down the hall and saw three doors; two open, one closed. Cautiously, he crept down the hallway, passing the two open doors, peering inside the rooms while strolling by. Empty. Well, not quite. Clothes were thrown about messily. Bags of potato chips and candy wrappers littered the floor. Ben could barely see the carpet. The other room was trashed similarly.
He focused on the closed door. Again, something bumped about inside.
I must be insane, Ben thought. He tried the door knob. Locked. Ben exhaled. Well, here we go. Feeling like he was no longer in control of his body, Ben kicked in the door.
Eyes immediately upon him. Ben's heart sunk.
Shit.
Josh stepped into the kitchen and immediately recoiled.
“What is it?” Victoria asked.
“Don't come in here,” Josh told them.
“Is it... a zombie?” Emily asked.
“No. Just...” Josh shook his head. “Stay there. All of you. I'll search the kitchen myself.”
Victoria huddled her daughters into the living room and waited. The house was less messy than the previous one. They were able to walk around without stepping in mounds of garbage. Victoria sat herself on the couch. Her daughters followed.
“Don't get too comfortable,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.
He passed a hanged woman who had tied herself to the ceiling fan and kicked a chair out from under herself. Her skin was gray, a tone he had been accustomed to seeing lately. Josh surveyed her. There were no bites on her arms and legs. Maybe Ben's kid has a chance yet. He walked past her, his gaze fixated on her cold, open eyes. He waited for her corpse to spring to life, but it never did.
Josh started rummaging through the drawers, finding nothing useful. No map. No GPS. Nothing they could use to find Melissa's house. We'd be half way to that convenience store by now.
Josh opened the cabinet above his head. His heart skipped when he saw what was staring him in the face. His nerves tingled with delight. He cooed affectionately, not realizing he had done so. He imagined it smiling at him, opening its invisible arms and hugging him.
The dragon within grinned.
The plastic bottle containing opiates glowed in the dim kitchen. Josh licked his lips. His body and brain clashed.
The dragon crept forward.
Josh grabbed the bottle and felt power ebb through his veins. The rush of how good it would feel to take one pill into his mouth and swallow waded him. That phantom sensation.
The dragon purred.
The name printed on the bottle was Kelly Monroe of 1243 Yardsmith Street.
Josh glanced at Kelly, who remained hanged. “Sorry, Ms. Monroe.” The bottle popped opened gracefully. “Doesn't look like you'll be needing these any more.” He tapped the bottle and watched its contents invade his palm.
The dragon's eyes widened with delight.
Then, he dropped them into the sink. “And neither will I.” He ran the water and watched the pills disappear inside the drain.
The dragon's throat had been slashed, rivers of blood flooding the countryside.
A few moments later he entered the living room.
“Who were you talking to?” Victoria asked.
“Nobody,” he said dismally.
“You okay?” Brit asked.
“Yup.”
“Find anything?” asked Emily.
Josh shook his head and pushed open the front door, the sickness causing his body to tremor.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ben's legs weakened. The figure shifted in the corner of the room. Its eyes fixed on Ben's. Eyebrows furrowing, the figure hunched over, as if it planned to leap across a small brook. Ben put his palm up.
“Wait,” Ben said. “I'm not here to hurt you.”
The figure grumbled. It remained where it was, shrinking back into the shadows the window blinds provided.
“Are you hurt?” Ben asked.
For a second, the figure said nothing. “I've felt better.”
“I'm not here to cause any problems.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing in my house?” An elderly man vacated the shadows. He reminded Ben of a toad; short, round, with bug-like eyes resting above droopy patches of skin. His flesh was riddled with brown spots. A white gauze pad clung to his neck. In the center of it, Ben noticed a rust-colored stain. “Hmm?”
“I'm looking for my son.”
“Well he sure as shit ain't here.”
“I know. He lives on Crown Avenue. My friends and I were searching the neighborhood, hoping to find a map. See we hoped—”
“No map here either,” the toad-like man croaked.
“I see. Perhaps—”
“Two streets over.”
Ben stared at him blankly, his lips trembling softly.
“That's what you were going to ask, wasn't it?” The man sat down on a nearby chair. “Where Crown Street is.”
“Yeah...” Tears glistened in the corners of Ben's eyes.
The toad-like man coughed. He scratched the wound on his neck. Ben backed away slowly.
“Goddammit.”
“Were you... bit?” Ben asked.
The man's eyes broke away from Ben's. “Jack Runion from Hollow Court. Five blocks down. Was chasing a dog when I went to get my paper the other day. Crazy fucker turned direction and attacked me. Bit pretty hard. What the hell is going on with people?”
“And you didn't... change?”
The man's face twisted like a pretzel. “Change? Into what? A zombie? Fuck no.”
Ben shook his head disbelievingly. “How is that possible?”
“Dunno. Maybe I'm immune.” The toad shrugged. “Lost power a few days back. Haven't really left this room. Only for pissing breaks and food. What's going on out there?”
“Nothing good.”
The man started coughing. Ben covered his mouth and backed away. The toad waved at him.
“Don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm just getting over this damned flu.”
Ben's heart stopped momentarily. “Did you say... flu?”
“Yeah. Flu season in the middle of fucking summer. Can you believe it?”
Ben thought of Jake and what he said on the phone. That he had been sick the past week. Same as Ben. Same as the toad-like man. What was it the doctor told Jake? Lots of people were coming down with it?
“Fuck's your problem? Look like you saw a goddamn ghost.”
Ben shook his head. He tried to add it all up, but couldn't. The flu. People catching it at the exact same time. The zombie apocalypse. These things seemed like they intertwined, but Ben couldn't figure out how or why.
“Anyway... best be gettin' along,” the toad said. “You have a
son to find, don't you?”
Ben nodded. “Yes. Thanks for your help.”
“Not sure I did anyth—” The toad erupted into another coughing fit. “Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”
“This way!” Ben shouted, running across the toad's front lawn.
“You found something?” Victoria asked.
Ben didn't reply. Running to the street corner, the rest of the group took off after him.
Please, God. Please be there...
He rounded the corner. The first thing he looked for was the street sign. Yorke Avenue. Next one over. He heard Victoria yell something, but ignored her. Josh said something about waiting up, but he ignored him too. “You don't know what you'll find!” Ben heard him yell. He didn't care. He needed to find his son. He needed to hold him again. God just let me find him in one piece...
He quickly thought back to the dream he had, the one where Jake joined the dead.
Please...
He sprinted past Yorke, focusing on the next sign. He could just make out the letters on the green plate—Crown Avenue they spelled. It fueled him, injected him with vigor. Ben never felt faster. Not in his entire life, youth combined. He ran like Hell itself was burning behind him.
God...
Shouting from behind him, but he didn't care.
Jake...
He prepped himself for the corner, already focusing his eyes toward the houses to see which way the numbers ran. A bush to his right blocked his vision. He readied to round it, his heart feeling like it would explode in his chest. He took the corner the fast, almost too fast.
No...
He skidded to a halt. His heart plunged into his feet.
God... no...
Before him, the street was filled with the dead.
Jake...
They slowly turned to him, their faces long and unsatisfied. Hungry.
God... please don't let this happen...
Behind him, the women screamed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Wait up!” Victoria yelled after Ben.
“Ben! You don't know what you'll find!” Josh shouted. It wasn't the most convincing argument for Ben to stop, but it was the best he could come up with on the fly. He ran after his companion, his lungs aching something fierce. Cold sweat poured off him.
Ben disappeared around the bush. Josh stopped.
Victoria noticed he had fallen behind. “Girls, wait.” She slowed to a stop, her daughters doing the same.
“Why are we stopping? Ben needs our help,” Brittany stated.
Josh slowly caught up to them, attempting to catch his breath. The two young girls appeared to have no problem with sprinting down the street. They acted like they hadn't been running at all.
Victoria put her hands over her head, sucking wind. “Guess I should renew my gym membership, huh?”
“Ben's gone,” Josh told them. “We won't catch him.”
“He could be walking into a deathtrap,” Brittany replied. “His mind isn't right, Josh. He's not thinking clearly.”
Josh knew. The man was so desperate to find his son that nothing else mattered. Especially his own safety. One small misstep in this dangerous new world and...
“Okay. We'll follow. But let me catch my brea—”
Something darted behind him, heading straight for Victoria. Josh turned in time to watch a middle-aged man in a three-piece suit tackle her to the ground, snarling bestially. The man had recently taken a bath in someone's blood. His expensive suit was heavily stained, torn and tattered.
Victoria screamed. So did her daughters.
Josh rushed over to her, reaching for the zombie's shoulder. He grabbed the dead man, but it was too late; he already clamped his mouth down on Victoria's throat. A blood-curdling scream roared from her open mouth as the monster tore a gaping hole in her neck. Ruby fluids spurted out excessively.
“No!” Brittany screamed, rushing to her mother's side.
Emily froze, looking on expressionlessly. Her jaw dropped open, remained there for the duration of the carnage.
Josh yanked the zombie off Victoria with the strength in his one good arm. It was surprisingly light for a corpse. Tumbling across the pavement, the zombie growled. Josh kicked its teeth in before it had the opportunity to rise to its feet. The corpse took the blow without protecting itself. Josh kicked it again, this time aiming for the side of its head. The zombie's head dented. He kicked it again, this time in the knee. Its fragile bone cracked and the zombie fell flat against the street. Clenching his teeth together, Josh stomped on the zombie's head. Blood splashed the asphalt, pooling around the corpse's nearly-crushed cranium. Josh repeated this act over and over again, until the zombie's head caved in like a rotten pumpkin. Brains and other pinkish matter oozed from beneath his foot.
Josh turned to Victoria and her daughter. Brittany was holding her hands over the cherry cavern in her mother's neck. Blood seeped through her fingers. She glanced at Josh, looking for help he couldn't give.
He stared at her forebodingly. She shook her head slowly, her eyes growing wet.
“Is Mom going to be okay?” Emily asked innocently. Tears stood on the rims of her eyes.
Sniffling, Brittany uttered, “Yes. She'll be just fine, sweet pea.”
“Don't call me sweat pea,” Emily said under her breath.
Brittany stared Josh in the face. Tears poured down her face. She was able to keep her outburst internal. “Take Emily. Get out of here.”
“What are you going to do?” Josh asked.
“I'll wait with her.” She looked down at her mother. Victoria's mouth hung open like she had something to say but couldn't speak. “Then I'll catch up.”
Josh exhaled. “You sure?”
Brittany nodded.
Josh looked at Victoria one last time. Life was beginning to fade from the middle-aged woman's eyes. He knelt down. “Thanks for the sling,” he said.
She didn't respond, remaining frozen in her final moments.
Josh sprung back to his feet. A stinging sensation found the corners of his eyes. It felt good feeling something again, although he wished it wasn't sadness.
“Come on, Emily. We're going for a walk,” Josh told her.
“I want to stay with Mom,” she sobbed. Her face glistened in the sunlight.
“Your sister will take care of her.”
Emily sprinted past Josh, crying and screaming. He didn't stop her. Physically drained, Josh watched the girl hug her mother for the last time.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Zombies. The street was full of them. Emily swallowed air. Josh felt his knees grow weak and almost give out.
“Where's Ben?” asked Emily, still sobbing.
“I dunno.”
“Do you think he made it?”
“I dunno.”
“What number was the house?”
Josh clenched his teeth. “I do—”
A swaying corpse lunged for them. They stepped away. The zombie tripped, falling to the asphalt. It crawled after them, growling and gnashing its teeth together.
“Was it 732?” Emily asked.
“That sounds right.”
They danced around the crawling corpse.
“What do we do?” Emily asked.
“Does it look like I know?”
Emily winced. Tears flowed from her eyes once again.
“Shit. I'm sorry.” Josh felt the need for drugs pumping through his veins. “I'm just... not feeling too good.”
“Well, my mother just died. I think I have you beat,” she said harshly.
“She's not dead.”
“I'm not stupid.”
Josh nodded.
“How are we getting through this?” Emily asked again.
Josh looked ahead. There was no way they could maneuver through the horde without being torn to pieces. They could try to go around them, but if the dead caught on, they'd converge on them within seconds.
“We'll try to go around them,” Josh
told her. “We'll head for that house.” He pointed.
“The tall gray one? With black shutters?”
“Yup. We'll hop the fence and travel through the backyards, until we find the right house.” Josh squinted, trying to see the house number. “Looks like that's 542. So it'll be on that side of the street, a little ways up.”
“Okay,” Emily said, wiping teardrops away from her eyes.
“You going to be okay?” Josh asked.
Emily shook her head. “No.”
Josh nodded.
Ahead, they heard someone who sounded like Ben Ackerman scream in agony.
Walking through the sea of hungry, living corpses wasn't the smartest idea Ben had ever come up with. He knew that. Even as he dodged some of their lame attacks with ease, he knew there had to be a better way. But instead of planning an alternative route in his head, he thought of Jake. He thought of his boy and how his face would illuminate once he saw his father again. He wondered what he was doing right now. Was he huddled next to his mother? Safe? Protected from the evils which now ruled the streets? Ben hoped.
The dream. This is my dream.
The street he had dreamed was this street. Crown Avenue. It looked exactly as it had within the dreamworld. As he jogged through the gathered, he surveyed the faces of the dead. He didn't recognize a single one of them. There was a man dressed in a shirt and tie. A policeman with bloody slaver dangling from his mouth. A girl clinging onto her stuffed bunny-rabbit. An middle-aged woman in her underwear, splattered with bright-red speckles. They moaned, aching for nourishment. Ben dodged them easily. He looked on, half-expecting to see Jake stumble from the flock, bloody and dirty, eager to rip his father apart.
He glanced at the house on his right. 724. Only a few more houses to go. He did some quick math and found the house Melissa had purchased with his money. It was painted sage-green, wore brown shutters with a wooden stockade fence stained walnut surrounding it. Quite possibly the ugliest exterior decorating he had ever seen. Ben smirked. Oh, Mel. You never were good at this. He found himself able to produce a chuckle, despite his current predicament. Then, realizing how close he was to seeing his son again, Ben picked—