Nothing is Certain

by Shawn C. McLain

  “ Or maybe they could kill you and your family! Ray, listen, you’re going to attract enough attention soon enough when the power goes out in the rest of the city, and you still have lights on. You need to think about what to do if others want to get in by force,” Rebecca explained.

  “You’re both just paranoid, you know that, right? Crazy paranoid.” Ray shook his head.

  “Well, you’re safe because we are! And we were right!” Anger overtook him. Alistair flipped off the camera and sat glaring at the blank screen. “Ungrateful assholes,” he spat.

  “Yes, but they are worried about their son,” Rebecca soothed.

  “They do know he is dead by now, right?” Alistair stated, not wanting to believe it himself. Rebecca just rubbed her husband’s shoulders, not wanting to confirm his statement.

  Finding a Way

  “ You know I used to actually like mowing the lawn. It was cool. You saw that you actually accomplished something, and no one bothered you while you did it. You could pretend you couldn’t hear them yelling over the mower,” Kyle informed Dude Cat. He chose the name as he called him Dude anyway. The cat stared attentively at him. “I like that you listen. Good attribute to have.”

  They turned down yet another blocked road. Kyle had been trying for an hour to get to the house he believed was the one his family was in. Having to turn around again, he was getting more frustrated and even more lost. “OK, so if we turn around, then we turn here…” He edged the car around a corner. He smiled triumphantly at the cat. “We should end up next to the pa—” Kyle slammed on the brakes. “How the fuck did we end up at the river?” he yelled. The cat gave an angry yelp and jumped into the back seat. “This isn’t my fault!” Kyle screamed at the small animal. It meowed mournfully back.

  Tears streamed down Kyle ’s face as he pounded the steering wheel. “This isn’t my fault! They left me, they left me,” he wailed. The cat nudged his arm. He looked into Dude’s eyes and began to pet him. “No, you’re right. You’re right…” He sniffed. “If I wasn’t pissed at Dad, I never would have snuck out.”

  “Meerow?”

  Kyle sighed. “And I would have been home when I was supposed to.”

  “Yerrowl,” Dude Cat responded.

  “Yeah, OK! It was stupid. I was being a punk. So what can I do now except try to find them?” he asked.

  “Yerrowl! Mmmerrrowl!” Dude was staring out the front window. Several zombies had appeared in the street.

  “Right. I see them.” Kyle backed the car up and turned down another road, heading back into town.

  Comes Out in the Wash

  “I’m sorry,” Ray said to his wife as he walked into the room.

  Jen did not turn to look at her husband. She just kept changing the cameras. “I smothered him and ignored you and Krissy. It’s my fault he ran off.” She sniffed.

  “I never let him do anything. I was too hard on him and made him think I loved Krissy more than him,” Ray said to his shoes.

  Jen was in his arms. “He’ll find his way here, and we will make it right.” She sobbed. Ray nodded and kissed her head.

  Krissy entered the room and promptly exclaimed, “Ewww!” The couple turned and pulled their daughter in close. She was confused by their tears. “Is Kyle OK?” she ventured.

  In the Bunker

  “OK, that is the third time that car has passed that camera,” Rebecca noted. “They have got to be trying to find a way to the house, I’m sure of it. Do you think that is…”

  Alistair was busy at the computer. “I got a freeze, and I am trying to clear up the picture.” The keys tapped under his fingers. “That’s got to be him!” Alistair shouted. “Long hair, and the nose looks like your sister’s!” He pumped his fist at his side. “That’s it, boy; now, let’s get you to the house.”

  Rebecca was next to her husband on a second keyboard. Together their fingers flew over keys. “I hope the lights are still working in that area,” she said.

  “I’m on the cameras—yep, looks like we still have power!” The couple smiled at each other and returned to their typing.

  In the Car

  Kyle drove past the third flashing red light. He looked over at the cat and slowed. “OK, is that weird?” he asked. Dude looked out the window and meowed. The light flashed red. He looked to the right; it was red and flashing, but to the left it was flashing green. He pulled forward slightly. The light flashed yellow and then red. He turned to the left, and the light went solid green. “No fucking way!”

  “Merow!” Kyle followed the solid green lights. Left, right, left, straight. Dead stop.

  In the House

  “ Mom, Dad, if you are done being gross, who’s that?” Krissy pointed to the camera that looked down at the side street. There sat a car that hadn’t been there a half hour ago. Switching to the camera at the front, Jen let out a small scream. There were several zombies blocking the path to the gate.

  “It’s him! It’s him!” Jen was hopping up and down.

  “Krissy, stay in the house! Jen, come with me!” Ray shouted and headed into the hall. Throwing open the closet, he pulled out a shotgun.

  “What are you going to do? You’ve never shot a gun in your life!” Jen shouted to her husband.

  “ I don’t know, but we have to give him a chance!” he yelled, heading out the front door. “I’m going up on the wall. I’ll tell you when to open the gate.” He was on the ladder as she ran out to the front gate. Neither saw Alistair waving frantically from the monitor.

  End of the Line

  Kyle pulled the car around the front and saw the way was blocked by several of the undead. “What do we do now, Dude Cat?” As if to answer his question, a zombie blew apart. Parts pelted the front of the car.

  “OK! This must be the place then!” he yelled. Dude Cat was on his hind legs again, staring out the front. Kyle whispered, “I hope they are shooting at the zombies.” Dude purred reassuringly.

  The ground next to a zombie shot gravel into the air. Kyle looked up at the wall, trying to see the shooter. He spied the barrel of the gun and who was holding it. Kyle sat in total shock, Dude nudging his elbow. To Kyle’s utter astonishment, his father was aiming. He watched the gun buck and his father stumble out of view as a second zombie blew apart. Kyle watched as his father appeared to regain his footing, waving Kyle on to the gate. He hit the gas, knocking a couple of the dead out of his way.

  “ What the hell does Uncle Alistair have loaded in there, huh?” Kyle steered toward the gate, running a third zombie down. The gate began to open as he approached. Several blasts from the gun blew off the arm of a zombie and knocked another off its feet.

  Kyle had just enough space; he forced the car through the opening. The metal screamed as it scraped through. Dude hid in the back seat again. For the second time in as many minutes, Kyle was stunned by what he saw. As he squeezed through the gate, he saw his mother at a panel, punching buttons, and his father sliding down a ladder.

  He was through, but so was a zombie. Kyle jumped out of the car, torn as to whom to run to first. His father ran forward, screaming. Kyle watched his mother run from the zombie that had followed him in.

  Ray fired and missed the oncoming ghoul. His mother tripped; his father cried out. Kyle grabbed the shotgun from his father and ran at the zombie. The heavy wooden butt crashed down on the head of the undead. It twitched but lay lifeless at his mother’s feet.

  A few moments passed with only the moans of the ghouls outside the gate. Kyle stared down at the zombie and then held out his hand to help his mother up. She grabbed him and held him tight. Ray slammed into his son, hugging both Jen and Kyle tightly. Kyle gripped them both tightly as a third thump hit him lower, and he saw his sister’s tearstained face staring up at him.

  Alistair watched the monitor as the family reunion occurred. Wiping a tear from his eye, he looked over at his wife. “You big softy.” She smiled and hugged him.

  “They are all safe…for now.” He sighed.

&n
bsp; Closing Sale

  Nikki was sick of snack food. She was tired of washing in a sink. She had had enough of lukewarm drinks, and she couldn’t stand staying in the store any longer. The problem was, the crowd outside was not the welcoming kind. Well, they were, actually, but the kind of welcome that would kill you. After the second day, the power went out; by the third day, even the emergency light was gone. It had been a week, maybe more now. She had read through most of the magazines, was avoiding the romance novels, and had worn out the dial on the portable radio she found. By this time even the automated voices had gone silent.

  She remembered reading The Diary of Anne Frank when she was younger. At the time Nikki couldn’t imagine having to be silent for hours on end. Now she understood that other young woman’s plight. During the day, Nikki stayed in the cramped, dark, windowless office. If she was spotted, the creatures would pound and bang on the windows and doors. Their howls would draw more and more to the shop. Cracks had already appeared in several panes of glass. One frame showed signs of coming loose. The first time she was spotted, they would have gotten in if not for an unfortunate group of people who turned down the wrong street. She didn’t see what had happened to them. Their screams chased her back to the office, where she stayed for two days.

  At night things were a little better. She could move around a little more, collect a few distractions for the next day. During this night she spent most of her time staying out of sight and quiet. She tried not to notice the dwindling supply of liquids in the row of dark refrigerators. The water had stopped running several days ago, so she started using the bottled water to flush. After a day she noticed how fast the bottles were disappearing. Lately she’d been using diet colas. She had tried the milk products, but after a few hours, they became rather nasty.

  With nothing to do but read about celebrities who probably weren ’t alive anymore, sleep, talk to a couple of stuffed animals, and think, Nikki started to form a plan. “OK, Mr. Bear, we need to get out of here.”

  “Yes, but where will we go?” she spoke in a gruff low voice.

  Taking in a squeaky voice, she looked at a large stuffed mouse. “Hey, Nikki, didn’t you comment once that there were windows above the store?”

  “ Yes, I did,” Nikki replied to the plush animals. Dispensing with pretense, she stood up. “There must be a way up there.” The animals just stared back with their blank, plastic eyes, but their sewn-on smiles encouraged her. “You’re right. We need to find out what is up there. Maybe a real bed or a safer place to hide.” She was looking at the door to the storeroom. “Or a way out of here. God, let it be a way out.”

  The storeroom was dark. Any windows that might be there were covered by boxes. Nikki found a ladder but had no idea where to start looking. She moved several boxes at the back, thinking she knew where the exterior walls were on either side. All she discovered was a steel door that appeared to be welded shut. There was a peephole in it, so she took a look. “That’s great,” she muttered. “It’s the back door, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.” She gave the door a swift kick. “I don’t have a blowtorch to get through it!”

  She jumped, stumbling over a box of empty bottles as something heavy hit the door. Nikki looked back out through the tiny portal. Immediately jumping back again, she swore. Gray-green teeth showing through stretched, bloody lips chomped at the tiny hole. “Good job!” She slapped herself on the forehead. “Brought ’em right to you, dammit.”

  The sound of shattering glass ended all self-admonishment. Her heart was frozen in her chest. “Please be looters. I can deal with looters. I want it to be looters,” she breathed as a tear ran down her cheek. She willed her feet to move. Her hands shook, her chest ached, and panic threatened to take over. “It’s looters; I know it’s just looters,” she whimpered, her cheeks damp with tears and her forehead with cold sweat. The door creaked slightly. Peering through, she covered her mouth to keep from screaming. More glass fell as body after body fell through. Displays were knocked aside; merchandise spilled across the floor. Silently she closed the door. As she took two steps back, her foot hit a bottle; her balance was compromised as the bottle clattered across the floor. Not waiting, Nikki scampered up the ladder.

  She crawled under the drop ceiling. The wires holding the grid up protested. Her flashlight caught a gleaming metal ring. Judging the distance, she knew it was out over the store. Slowly she crept to the top of a wall dividing the storefront from the back room. She could see down into the office. Her two stuffed friends had already been knocked aside by the shambling dead. More of the creatures poured into the room by the second. She wondered if they could smell her. She could smell herself, and it was only getting worse with the fear and perspiration. She wished she had turned off the small lantern so she couldn’t see the horde below her.

  Hating the undead and crying every second, she inched closer to the ring that she prayed led to a door to the upper level. A wire gave way, as did a cry from her. A ceiling panel crashed to the floor, and moans filled the hole. Blood seeped from cuts on Nikki’s hands. She gripped the metal with all her strength. Her muscles ached, her eyes were shut tight, and her nose was filled with the dust on the tile that her face was now pressed to as she tried to block out the groaning from her ears.

  The entire grid shook, and another support gave way. Nikki added a scream to the cacophony of sounds from the undead. Metal bit at her clothes and scratched at her skin. Tiles fell on the outstretched hands. More displays tumbled over under the crush as more and more of the undead spilled into the store. Her finger snaked into the ring and heaved. A door opened out of the ceiling. She was on the backside. A set of stairs unfolded out, smashing into the support grid. A small handrail was all that saved Nikki from crashing down with it.

  As she hung on with her blood-slicked hands, hands now clawed at her shoes. The ladder had smashed several of the zombies that did not allow it to open completely. Kicking away the grasping claws, she got a foot on the steps. She was up and through. Even though she pulled with all that was left of her strength, the door barely moved. Zombies stumbled and climbed on each other, adding their weight to the problem. Body after body crashed into the old wood of the stairs.

  Screaming with exertion, Nikki pulled; wood splintered, and zombies tumbled over each other. The door slammed shut, throwing Nikki flat on her back, the breath knocked out of her. Lying there gasping, she could see she was in a low room. The windows she had seen from the outside were spilling pale light into the empty space. The tears came fast and didn’t stop for a long time.

  Welcome Home

  The car was running very low on gas. Chris and Mary had taken turns sleeping after the first day of driving around. Chris snored softly in the back seat. Mary stared out the front window at the empty street. They had backed up into a concrete enclosure that was used to hold dumpsters. It still stank of garbage, but it afforded safety on three sides—they hoped.

  Mary had finally convinced Chris to go back to their house. She had to see for herself. When they arrived, the neighborhood was unrecognizable. Luggage, boxes, and furniture littered the street. Crashed and abandoned cars were across the road, on lawns, and several were embedded in houses. Signs of violence were everywhere. Red stains were on the sidewalks and sides of houses and doors. To Mary’s relief—or horror—they found their house had burned at some point. The neighbor’s house seemed to have blown apart, setting theirs ablaze. The two burned corpses on the front lawn could have been anyone, but Chris seemed to be content that it was their parents.

  Every Christmas, Thanksgiving, and birthday came back to make her smile, immediately stolen by every fight, every moment of resentment and time she felt put upon. So many of those times felt so useless, so needless and stupid; who cared now if she didn’t get to stay out as late as some of her friends did? She was an orphan and homeless. She never could go home, never argue with her parents on music or how she was dressed or about her friends. Unconsciously she took off the skull
earrings and dropped them out the window. She had seen enough death without wearing them.

  “You OK?” Chris asked sleepily from behind her.

  Mary realized she was crying. “Yeah, I just…you know.”

  “ Yeah, I do.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze that turned from comfort to warning. She saw them. Three of the undead had shuffled in front of the car. They stood there, swaying back and forth but not advancing. “Get ready to get out of here,” Chris whispered.

  Mary ’s fingers found the ignition. The moment they decided to investigate was the moment they were going to taste the hood. Neither side breathed—one not daring to, the other not needing to. The howl caught Mary by surprise, but by the third one joining in, they were inches from the bumper. The sound was gone in the crunch of bodies on and under the car. Mary swerved, attempting to rid the front of the vehicle off the half zombie now trying to pull itself toward the window. Metal screamed as the fender met the guardrail. The body rolled off the hood into the darkness.

  “Shit, I fucked something up!” Mary yelled. She was having a hard time steering.

  “ Head down Market Street, and we can try to find another car there.” Chris pointed over her shoulder. Mary fought the car for a block. By the second block, the grinding was calling to every undead in a mile radius. The car barely staggered. “Screw it!” Chris yelled over the dying machine. “We gotta run!” A crowd was growing behind the car.

  “ No, there are too many,” Mary protested, seeing their path beginning to be blocked. “It is no good. The car is fucked.” Mary knew things were bad. Chris rarely swore. “Down there!” He was pointing to an alley. Mary protested. “Mare, come on. See the fire escape? We can get to it from that dumpster.” Chris barely paused, throwing open the door.

  Mary still protested even after her door was wrenched open and she was dragged out. “We need to stay with the car. It is safe in there.” She was pushed onto the dumpster. “This is a bad idea.” The zombies were at both ends of the alley. “Chris! Let’s get back to the—OK, OK, stop pushing.” The ladder was within reach, and Chris was forcing her onto it. She was on the first landing as Chris pushed the dumpster away as best as he could. It bumped into a zombie that stood, confused, looking at it.