Less Than Human

by Tim Meyer

  Pain suddenly occupied his right arm. It quickly ran down his arm, into his hand. He whipped around and looked down, finding the little girl with the stuffed bunny-rabbit tasting his flesh. Her mouth was peeling back a sliver of his skin.

  Ben screamed. He wrenched his arm free, the little girl temporarily content with chewing the bloody scrap of skin. Once she swallowed, she jumped at him, snarling furiously. Ben kicked her in the chest and sent her tumbling to the street. Behind her, zombies flocked in his direction. Ben looked to his right and left, the herd closing in.

  How could I be so stupid? Ben asked himself. What was I thinking? He knew the answer to that—he wasn't thinking. Not at all.

  The horde grew closer, encircling him like a school of sharks. There was no way out. The wall of corpses was ten zombies deep. He could break through the first layer, maybe without getting himself killed, but after that they'd converge on him. He'd seen it before. If he had just kept moving, never slowed down, he might have had a shot.

  “Ben!” he heard Josh shout from somewhere close. “Ben, over here!”

  Ben peered through the dead bodies. He saw Josh and Emily standing on the front lawn of the nearest property. He shook his head. Closed his eyes. Waited for death.

  “What is he doing?” Emily asked.

  “He's giving up,” Josh replied. Feeling ill, Josh walked toward the crowd of corpses.

  “Where are you going?” Emily asked.

  Josh ignored her. Instead, he ran full speed at the famished throng. Josh jumped when he was close enough, landing on top of the crowd like a rowdy fan at a rock concert. The living dead weren't strong enough to support his weight, and four of them fell to the ground. They tumbled into their mates, knocking them over like weightless bowling pins.

  Josh's arm throbbed. He rolled over, crying out in pain. One of the fallen zombies attempted to take advantage of Josh's current situation, latching onto his leg. It tried to bite down on his ankle, but Josh kicked himself away. As the pain radiated up and down his arm, Josh scrambled to his feet. He looked at Ben.

  Ben reached for him. Josh met him halfway, yanking him to his feet. A few zombies darted forward with an unexpected surge of quickness, but the two men were able to sidestep their attempt. They helped each other further down the road, leaving the horde behind them. Emily followed them, running across the lawns of Melissa Ackerman's neighbors.

  Once they were a safe distance from the horde, Ben turned to Josh.

  “Are you okay?” Ben asked. “Is it the arm?”

  Josh shook his head. Grimacing, he sat in the middle of the road. Emily rushed over to them.

  “I think...” Josh started to say, rolling up his pant leg. A hunk of his calf was missing. The edge of the wound had purpled, the infection already spreading. “Fuck me,” he muttered.

  “Oh shit, man,” Ben said out loud. “Jesus Christ.” The wound was already beginning to stink.

  “I'm a fucking goner.”

  Emily started bawling again.

  Ben knelt down. He put his hand on Josh's shoulder. “I'm so sorry.”

  Laughing, Josh replied, “Don't worry about it. We're all going to die sooner or later, right?” A series of hacking coughs interrupted him. He spat blood onto the pavement. “I can feel it working through me. Won't be long until I'm one of them, I guess.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Motherfuckers.”

  “You don't know that. I met a man in a house back there. He was bitten. A few times, from the looks of it. Days ago. And you know what?” Ben asked.

  Josh shook his head.

  “He's still alive.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It's true.” Ben held up his arm, displaying his injury. “I was too.”

  “Holy fuck,” Josh coughed. Blood sputtered down his chin.

  “Were you sick a week before the shit hit the fan? Before things went really bad?”

  Josh shook his head. “Haven't been sick in years, man.”

  Concerned, Ben narrowed his eyes. “Hm.”

  “Guess I don't quite fit the bill then? Guess I'm not one of the lucky ones.”

  “There must be something...”

  Josh coughed again, filling his palm with sticky red fluid. “Go find your son, Ben.” He nodded toward the ugly green house. “He's waiting for you in there.”

  Droplets fell from Ben's eyes. He lowered his head. “Thanks for coming with me. I know things didn't quite turn out the way we wanted it, but I'm glad you came.”

  Josh smirked. “Me too.” He hacked again, sickness ejaculating from between his lips. “Now go. Both of you. I don't want you to see me as one of them.”

  Ben nodded. He grabbed Emily's hand. She waved to Josh, her face lustered in tears. Josh waved back weakly.

  Together, they jogged up the walkway leading to 732 Crown Avenue. Ben hopped up the porch steps, letting go of Emily's hand. “Step back,” he warned her. Nothing happened when he pushed the doorbell. He began banging on the front door, screaming Melissa's name over and over again. Without waiting for a reply, he backed up, then kicked the door. It took him three tries, but Ben was able to force the door off of the hinges.

  Shaking with fear, Ben stepped inside. Emily followed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The living room decor almost brought Ben to his knees.

  Pictures of Jake littered the walls and tabletops. There were pictures of Melissa too, arms shackled with another man, but Ben looked past those and concentrated on Jake. He was smiling in every picture. Happy. Tears sprinkled Ben's face. Knees weak, Ben barely found the strength to shuffle forward.

  Emily closed the front door as Ben wandered around the living room lackadaisically. She ran over to the window, peering outside. If Ben had been paying attention, he would have told her not to look. But he was too busy scanning the walls to notice. Emily spotted Josh. He lay in the street, twitching. Several zombies walked past him, as if they knew he was already a member of their clan.

  Then, something—somebody—caught the corner of her eye.

  “Mom?” she whispered aloud.

  Ben's head snapped toward the window. “Get away from there,” he said.

  “But—?”

  Ben put his finger over his mouth. “You'll attract them,” he said quietly.

  Suddenly, Ben heard something below them. Shuffling. Footsteps. Is that—yes. He heard them.

  Voices.

  “Wait here,” Ben said. “I'm going to check it out. I'll be right back.”

  Emily nodded.

  “Promise me you won't move.”

  “I won't move. Promise.”

  Ben smiled at her, then jogged into the kitchen. He opened the door closest to him. It turned out to be a fully-stocked pantry. He waited a moment. Heard the voices again. Two of them? He couldn't tell. He supposed it could have been his over-eager mind playing tricks on him.

  Ben strolled across the tile floor, toward the only other door in the kitchen. Carefully, he opened it, half-expecting to be met with a disease-infested mouth.

  Ben swung open the door and peered down stairs that descended into darkness. An orange glow flickered from somewhere beyond. Before Ben decided to run down the steps, he called to the unknown. “Mel? You down there?”

  The stressful silence only lasted a moment.

  “Who's there?” a woman asked.

  Ben felt his heart skip multiple beats. He wanted to speak, but couldn't find the words. Overwhelmed with emotion, Ben wept. He rushed down the stairs, mindless of any obstacles that might have been placed in his way.

  Within seconds, he found himself standing on concrete. He turned toward the orange haze and saw a woman standing before him. She held a candle in front of her, using its weak light to see.

  “Mel?” he asked.

  She looked ragged and unclean. Clearly she had gone a few days without showering. The candle wavered in her hand. For a brief second, Ben thought she would drop it. Instead, she placed it on the table next to her.

 
; “Ben?” she asked. Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. He could hear her breathing heavily. “Is that really you?”

  “Yeah, it's me.”

  She rushed him, wrapping her thin arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly, showing no signs that she was ever going to let go.

  “Dad?” a voice asked from behind him.

  Melissa let go of him. Ben turned. His heart nearly bounced out of his chest.

  “Jake...” he said. Ben dropped to his knees. His lips trembled. His face grew wet.

  He never thought he'd see his son again.

  Victoria stood in the doorway. Emily glanced up at her mother. “Mother?” she asked, but she didn't respond. A low, growling noise rose in her throat. Emily backed away like a child fearful of the neighbor's dog. Victoria stepped forward, extending one hand toward her daughter. Behind her, Brittany emerged, her face cut and bloodied. She didn't speak a word. Instead, she reached for her sister with bloody fingers.

  Emily wanted to scream, but didn't. She wanted to run, but couldn't. She watched her family close in on her, powerless to their approach. She passed out before they began to feed.

  Feeling his son wrap his bony arms around him was exactly how Ben imagined it. He whimpered softly has he patted the boy's back. “I missed you, Dad,” he said, and Ben cried harder. “Mom said you were coming, but... I didn't think you'd make it.”

  Ben turned to Melissa. She smiled at him.

  He went back to hugging his son. Jake nested his head on his father's shoulder.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Melissa said. “But we need to talk.”

  “About what?” Ben asked, still gripping Jake in his arms.

  “About...” She pointed upstairs.

  “They're going to break in any moment. There were hundreds of them in the street.”

  “Jesus,” she said. “Was... David up there?”

  David, Ben thought. The guy from the photos.

  Ben shook his head. “Let's go upstairs,” he suggested. “We need to get out of here. And quick.”

  “I don't think that's such a good idea,” Melissa said, her voice forlorn. Ben could see her trembling.

  “And why's that?”

  She looked to the ceiling for answers, her eyes welling. Sadness invaded her voice. “Remember on the phone, when I told you everything east of Philly was going to be wiped off the planet?”

  “Yeah...” Ben said suspiciously.

  “Well... it's not just the East Coast anymore,” she said, gulping. “It's half the country.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Glass shattered above them. Footsteps pounded the floor. Hell had broken free and it swarmed 732 Crown Avenue. Demons snarled. Their stomachs grumbled, craving the flesh of the living.

  “What do you mean?” Ben asked, turning back to Melissa.

  “On the radio—just before the batteries died—they said that someone was going to drop a nuclear bomb on the United States. Several of them.”

  “Who? Who is going to drop a bomb on us?” Ben asked. “Isn't the whole world like this?”

  “I don't know. The man on the radio didn't seem to think so.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Ben paced back and forth a few times. “So what do we do?”

  “How... How the hell am I supposed to know?” Melissa shook her head. “David said we might be safe down here, you know, if...”

  “If a nuclear bomb hits anywhere near here, Mel, it's not going to matter where you are. The fallout will swallow us no matter where we hide. No, staying down here is just as dangerous.”

  “Well, you got any better ideas?”

  Ben didn't. But he knew they had a better chance of surviving somewhere other than the basement. At least for a little while longer. “Do you know how long we have?”

  Melissa shook her head. “No, the guy on the radio said a day. But that was yesterday, so...”

  “Alright we're getting out of here.”

  Ben grabbed Jake by the hand and led him to the stairs. Melissa jogged behind them. When Ben started up the stairs, he felt someone's hand on his shoulder. He turned to his ex-wife. She looked terrified, haggard, on the verge of losing her mind.

  “I... just want to say that I missed you,” she said.

  Ben looked at her. Under normal circumstances, he might have told her something different. Instead, he faked a smile and said, “Yeah, me too.”

  The three of them hurried upstairs.

  Hands waved at them through the broken kitchen windows. The moans of the horde outside echoed throughout the house. Ben led his son and Melissa through the kitchen and into the living room, where they found a dozen zombies feasting on the remains of a fifteen-year old girl. The clump of meat in the middle of the room barely resembled Emily Torres. The dead cannibals nibbled remnants of organs and splashed about in a large pool of blood. Ben saw Josh had become one of them. He was eating what little meat remained on a bone. Victoria was there too, snacking on her daughter's innards. Brittany as well. She looked up at Ben as he entered the room. She dropped the hand she was gnawing on and rose to her feet.

  Ben quickly looked away from the carnage and led his family upstairs. The front door was blocked by numerous corpses looking to join the house party. They lumbered toward Ben with surprising speed, Melissa shrieking when she noticed how close they were getting. Ben hurried them up the stairs, allowing them to go first. He booted the first zombie to reach the bottom of the stairs, sending him crashing into a few of his buddies. Three of them lost their balance and fell to the floor, creating distance between them. Ben rushed up the stairs, following Melissa and Jake, who had already disappeared down the hallway.

  “Go to Jake's room!” Ben shouted.

  He reached the top of the stairs. Melissa helped Jake inside his room. Ben sprinted down the hall, following them into the bedroom. The walls were littered with posters of Batman and Spider-Man, and half a dozen other comic-book heroes. Comics and young-adult novels were messily thrown across the floor, along with dirty laundry. Ben narrowed his eyes at Melissa, remembering the many trivial arguments they had about keeping the boy's room clean. She smirked faintly, understanding exactly where his thoughts were. Her expression changed when she heard footfalls down the hallway.

  “Where to now?” Melissa asked.

  “The window. Hurry.”

  Ben looked behind them. Shadows formed on the hallway wall.

  Melissa slid the window open.

  “Out. Now,” Ben commanded.

  Melissa crawled through the open window without any hesitation. Once she was onto the roof, she looked back and waved Jake on. He turned to his father with tears in his eyes. His small lips trembled.

  “Can I have my PSP?” Jake asked. “Please, Dad? I really want my PSP.”

  Are you kidding me? Now was certainly not the time to go searching for a hand-held video game system. On the other hand, it was certainly not the time to argue with a ten-year old either. “Where is it?”

  “In my closet, I think.”

  “Go with your mother. I'll grab it.”

  “Okay,” Jake said. He turned to the window, reaching out, grabbing his mother's hands. She pulled him through and the boy collapsed in her arms.

  Ben rushed toward the closet. He began throwing things around. Clothes. Toys. Books. Comics. The kid had too much shit, plain and simple. How much came out of his child support, he did not know. How much David had paid for (or the other fuck-buddies Melissa had since their separation) he did not want to know. “I can't find it, kiddo,” Ben said.

  Jake poked his head through the window. “Check the black bag!”

  Ben spotted one black duffel bag. He remembered it. It was a bag he helped load into Melissa's van, the night before they left for Brown Valley. He opened it hastily. Turning it upside down, he dumped numerous toys and video-game discs onto the closet floor. The PSP was the last thing to come out. He grabbed it, slipped it into his pocket, and turned toward the window.

  Melissa screamed.
r />   “Daddy!” Jake called out.

  Several zombies stood in the doorway, looking hungrier than ever. They commenced forward, lunging for Ben as he darted toward the window.

  Josh Emberson led the attack.

  Ben barrel-rolled across the bed as if he had suddenly caught fire. He landed on the floor on the opposite side, next to the open window. Melissa and Jake screamed for him, reaching for his hands. He dove for the window, feeling the presence of the dead behind him. Their moans grew louder as they inched closer. The room filled with their rancid odor. Ben reached the window and pulled himself up. Melissa and Jake grabbed his arms, yanking him through.

  Then, Ben screamed. He felt pain trounce the back of his leg. He felt hands gripping his ankle. It took a few moments, but he was able to shake them free. He pulled his body through the window, his legs quickly following. Ben turned over and looked back. He saw Josh standing in the window, a bloody flap of skin dangling from his mouth. The zombie devoured it quickly.

  Ben glanced down at the back of his leg. Half of his calf was missing. Blood streamed down his leg from the cavity where the muscle used to be. Bloody tissue dangled from the wound. Ben winced, the pain overbearing. He lay there for a minute trying to ignore it, hoping it would go away. But the constant throb only worsened as the seconds passed, spreading to neighboring areas.

  Josh began climbing through the window. Ben scooted forward, kicking him in the chest with his good leg, causing the zombie to fall back. It sprang back to its feet immediately, several of his dead friends accompanying him back to the open window. Ben shouted, telling Melissa to close the window. She rushed over and slammed it shut. A zombie's hand got caught while reaching out for Ben. Melissa crushed it when she slammed the window sash down with all of her strength. Bones broke, but the zombie didn't flinch. It glared at her through the glass. She brought the sash back up and Ben kicked the corpse again, sending it sprawling on its back.

  This time, Melissa closed the window without any interference.

  The three of them watched as Josh and several other dead faces filled the window, desperately craving their next meal.