New Title 15

by Douglas, P. A.

  “You’re not getting it. If a high fever of over a hundred could temporarily deafen someone, then well over that in heat, would totally melt away what hearing they had left. If the cartilage in and around the ear along with the skin holding it all together has melted to nothing, then you can assume the eardrum is pretty much done for.”

  “Ok, so if we can’t distract them with noise… then what?” Kyle rubbed his eyes. They had been stalling for too long.

  “Bait…” Z said.

  Everyone stood in silence for a while.

  Kyle spoke up first.

  “Hell, it’s your idea. I nominate you to be the bait.”

  “You guys can’t be serious,” Sarah said. “We can’t send someone off by themselves. That’s just crazy.”

  “He’s right,” Ben said. “One of us is going to have to lead them away from the apartment. What other options do we have?”

  “Shit, yo. I guess I gots to do this then. I can man up. Now what I’m—”

  Becca leaned tighter into his arms. “No…,” she whimpered.

  “God… Looks like I’m elected to be the hero.”

  “Are you sure, Kyle?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Z doesn’t know where we live. I do.”

  “Ok, then. It’s settled.”

  Kyle swallowed hard. “Wow… That was a fast vote. I was kind of hoping for an alternate suggestion to be honest.”

  Everyone looked weary. Kyle knew what he had to do. It was the only way. They needed to get to Ben’s car so that they could get the hell out of town. It was risky, but he could do it. How hard could it really be? Just run out, get spotted, and lead the charred ghouls off in the night. Assuming he was lucky enough, he could backtrack and meet up with the others at the apartment in no time.

  “Fuck it,” he sighed. “Let’s do this before I change my mind!”

  Kyle eyed Ben for a moment. “You better not leave me behind.”

  Ben nodded.

  Kyle shook Z’s hand before turning to Sarah. He gazed long and hard into her eyes before saying anything. A tear ran down her face.

  “Glad I finally mustered up the balls to talk to you. I wouldn’t mind actually getting to know you, you know.”

  “Yeah, me too,” her voice was soft with doubt about the future.

  He leaned in and hugged her tightly.

  “Alright, man. It’s now or never,” Kyle said, patting Ben on the shoulder.

  As Kyle darted out into the street, the sound of plastic on his head rattled in the wind.

  Stepping out into the street, he looked back at Ben and the others.

  What the hell am I getting myself into? I didn’t get near enough smokes for this shit!

  Digging under his butcher’s coat, Kyle pulled out the pack of Lucky’s. Lighting one up after moving his mask, he knew that was exactly what he needed; luck!

  Kyle Turner disappeared around the corner, heading toward the lingering street ghouls.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kyle’s heart pounded against his chest. The things were getting nearer. He chanced to steal a moment beside a parked van to catch his breath.

  Looking up, faint specks of starlight between the dank clouds faded into view. Finally, the sky was starting to clear. Seeing the bright twinkling above, gave him a sense of comfort he hadn't felt in a while.

  He wished he had spent more time at the gym and less time sitting on his ass in front of the television. Wearing a silly get-up while running a marathon didn’t help the situation. He was hot, sweaty, and tired. The painter’s mask slowed the amount of air available, making it hard to breathe while outpacing the creatures.

  Man, I hope this stupid plan actually works, he thought, rubbing his bare feet. I hope Ben was able to get to the apartments okay. The cuts and bruises from running on the cold, rocky cement were starting to take a toll.

  It had been a simple plan, Kyle ran straight down the street away from the apartment complex, past the grocery, and beyond. From his perspective, it had worked. Almost instantly, the creatures took notice, and over two dozen bruised and blistered walking meat sacks were after him. Those proved to be the fastest of creatures he had faced yet. At a brisk jog, it was hard for most to keep up. For that, he was thankful. He would have been up a creek without a paddle had any of those things been any faster.

  The cloud had deformed and mangled its victims into monstrosities. Melted limbs fused together after the body cooled, preventing many from reaching their full speeds. Kneecaps were conjoined to each other, elbows to chests, and chins to shoulders. The unpleasant smell that lingered in their wake was worse.

  The streets filled with the odor of the rank abominations.

  Man, you need to wake up. This has to be just some crazy dream. Yeah, dude. That’s all this is. Tomorrow when you wake up, we are going to just chill the hell out, have a few beers, and watch some tube.

  He knew it was too good to be true.

  “Fuck, this sucks!”

  Kyle stuck his head out from behind the parked van. The mutant things were still about two blocks down the road heading toward him. He could hear them getting closer. He could also smell them. Their sloshing steps and painful moans signaled time was running short.

  Kyle was still trying to catch his breath. Ducking behind the van, he yelled out, “Come and get me, you stupid pieces of shit!”

  He knew they couldn’t hear him. He grabbed the wooden plank at his side and started beating it against the asphalt.

  A loud thump followed from hitting the back of his head against the body of the van. He had their attention all right, and now a throbbing headache. Their stomping and shuffling steps grew steadier and moans rose in pitch with excitement. The vibrations had them in hot pursuit.

  I just need to wait until they get a little closer, then I’m freaking gone!

  Making it up as he went along, the plan was to cut across the yard of the van owner and dash as fast as he could, and then circle around to the apartment’s backside. He just hoped like hell that the next street over wasn’t crowded with any more of the creatures. If it was, he wasn’t sure what he could do.

  He looked over his shoulder at the yard. There was a light on in the house’s kitchen. As much as he hoped someone was alive inside, he didn’t want to waste any time checking it out. He wanted to get back to Ben and Sarah. The last thing he needed was to be left behind for taking too long to return.

  A garbage can a few houses ahead crashed to the ground. Startled, Kyle’s eyes scanned the street and beyond. He saw nothing. The dead were still closing in heated pursuit. For a moment, he wondered if they were dead at all. Death certainly was more appealing than walking the Earth in that condition. At least, if they were dead, it was possible they weren't in pain. He scanned the street ahead of him again and still couldn’t see any signs of life, mutilated or not.

  Feeling even more uneasy, he stood to his feet. He snatched up the wood plank taking a defensive stance, wishing for a better weapon.

  Hell, a freaking flamethrower, or a grenade launcher would be nice, he thought, as he took off.

  Cutting through the yard of the van owner’s home, Kyle steadily increased his pace. Before long, he was over the fence in the backyard. Cutting through the adjoining yard, he made his way onto the next street over. As long as the coast was clear, it would be a straight shot to the apartments and Ben’s place. He just hoped like hell that his friends had made it there safely.

  Crossing his fingers and desperately needing a cigarette break, Kyle began the long sprint home. He had six blocks or more between him and a car ride out of this hellhole. He just hoped that luck was on his side tonight.

  A gunshot rang out in the distance.

  * * *

  The door swung open and Kyle spilled forward into Ben’s living room, falling to his knees while gasping for air. The door slammed shut behind him. The deadbolt clicked shut.

  “Oh, thank God, you made it. I was starting to worry.”

  With his face sti
ll staring into the carpet, Kyle heard Sarah’s voice.

  Still trying to catch his breath, Kyle glanced around the room. Ben’s living space was ridiculous. He had never actually gone inside Ben’s place, but he had an idea about what it might look like. The place was tidy and clean. To one side, a huge flat screen television took up most of the wall. Kyle imagined it to be over seventy inches. Across from the TV, Becca lay on a large plush leather couch. Z was sitting on the floor beside her. The coffee table in the center of the room was polished to perfection. Next to the couch was a monstrously large bookshelf, completely full. Knowing Ben, the books were probably Bibliography’s or science related nonsense. Next to the bookshelf was a very small desk. An overpriced laptop sat on top of it, which was in the process of booting up.

  Whereas most people's walls were decorated with framed family pictures, or in Kyle’s case, posters of swimsuit models, Ben’s walls were different. Toys still in their packaging were arranged next to every other filled ever-empty space. There had to have been fifty or more. Some of the toys Kyle recognized. Others he did not. The Star Wars action figures over the couch were the most recognizable. The living space was small. That’s just how the complex was. The room reminded him of his apartment upstairs.

  “I need some water…” His voice was dry. “Water.”

  Sitting upright in the center of the room, Kyle crossed his legs Indian style, and pulled the plastic bag from his head. The sound of duct tape peeling free made his breathing a little easier. Before he could tear away the rubber gloves still taped in place, Ben walked up, handing him a glass of ice water.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem. Glad you made it, dude.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he said between gulps.

  Kyle handed back the empty glass, then proceeded to remove the butcher’s coat and gloves. Still seated on the floor, he tossed them aside.

  “You want any more to drink?” Ben asked.

  “No, I’m good,” Kyle said, retrieving his pack of smokes.

  Even though Kyle knew Ben didn’t smoke, he wasn’t about to be the polite guy by stepping outside for a cigarette break. Nodding at Ben for his approval anyway, Kyle got the go ahead. Lighting one up, he asked for something to use as an ashtray and if anyone else wanted one. Sarah smiled, pulling free a pack from her pocket. Ben came back with another cup to use for the ashes.

  “Thanks,” Kyle said, feeling a lot more relaxed. “So I’ve got to ask, did you guys run into much trouble?”

  Neither Ben nor Sarah responded. Instead, both of their attention shifted to Z and Becca across the room.

  Kyle had noticed the young Hispanic woman was lying down, but thought nothing of it at first. With the concern on his friend's faces, he looked again.

  Z was sitting on the carpet next to Becca on the couch. Leaning over, he gently stroked her hair. Becca's skin was unusually pale. Her hair was wet with sweat, as if she might be running a fever. Her eyes were closed and a cold wet rag lay across her forehead.

  “What the hell happened?" Kyle said, a bellow of smoke pouring from his lips.

  He flicked his ashes into the cup.

  “One of those stupid things touched her, yo!” Z managed to say.

  Kyle glared at Ben. Ben’s weary eyes confirmed it to be true.

  “Yeah,” Sarah started. “After you took off down the street, we backtracked to the store to wait it out. Maybe twenty minutes or more passed before we felt like it was safe to go out there.” Sarah’s eyes trailed off toward the kitchen. “We all thought it was safe. It had been a few minutes since we saw any of them pass the alley chasing after you…” She put her cigarette out in the cup next to Kyle.

  Kyle looked at both her and Ben for a while.

  “We didn’t see anything. We just knew we were in the clear.” Ben spoke up, biting his nails. “We had made it more than halfway to the house when it happened. We were taking it slow and we were being cautious.”

  “Yeah, yo! And had that damn car not been blaring 50 Cent, we would a heard it moving around in the bushes. You know what I’m sayin’.”

  Kyle thought of the parked car outside in the street. It wasn’t until Z mentioned it that he could hear the music. The radio was still on, and he could hear the faint bass thumps of rap music playing out in the streets.

  That car battery has got to give sooner or later, he thought.

  “The street was clear, I swear,” Sarah said.

  “So that was you that fired.” Kyle looked to Z. “I heard a gun go off right after I started running back this way.”

  Z nodded, still comforting his girlfriend. “Yeah, dawg. Spent my last round too, yo. My piece is worthless now unless we can get some more ammo for it.”

  Kyle noticed the gun still sticking out of the back of Z’s pants.

  “How bad is it?” He asked.

  “Pretty bad.” Ben said. “That thing grabbed her on the wrist before Z shot it in the head.”

  “But what about the suits? Wasn’t she wearing gloves?”

  “Yeah, she was. We all were.”

  “Then what the hell went wrong?” Kyle stood up to get a better look at Becca’s arm.

  “That thing wrestled with her for a few seconds before Z shot it,” Sarah said. “That’s all it took.”

  Z scooted aside, removing the damp cloth from her arm.

  “Tape didn’t hold, yo... Stupid shit pulled her glove free.” He sighed, heavy with guilt, “I should a shot ’em quicker. Then this wouldn’t have happened. You know what I’m sayin’.”

  It was bad. The skin on her forearm was sizzling and little bubbles popped all over it. Looking down at her arm reminded Kyle of Pop Rocks, the candy. The way her skin seemed to dance around in place, struck home with Kyle’s childhood. Her naturally golden tanned arm was now blistered with black and pulpous red sores. The skin around it was charred and white.

  “Shouldn’t you have that wrapped or under ice, or something?” Kyle asked.

  “No,” Ben sighed. “With the phone lines down, we can’t call for help. The best thing we can do is keep her comfortable. Putting ice on a third degree burn like that could push her into shock.”

  “Well, what about ointment?” Kyle sounded optimistic.

  “With the blisters like they are, adding home remedies might help the infection spread. It’s best if we keep her still. She needs to get some rest before we try moving her.” Ben stroked his mustache, and then went back to biting his nails.

  “Wow, man. That sucks.” Kyle patted Z on the back.

  As much as these people had been getting on his nerves earlier, he hated to see them all like this. It was sad. Kyle looked at Ben and the ridiculous toys that hung along the walls. He sighed at Sarah, and then looked down at the spent smoke in his hand. He dropped the butt into the ashy glass Ben had provided.

  “Well, if we are going to give it some time to see if Becca comes back around, think you can get on there, and see what the hell is going on?” Kyle pointed to the laptop.

  “Yeah, I planned on that. Just haven’t gotten to it yet.” Ben walked over and sat down at the desk.

  “You really think the internet is going to be up around here?” Sarah asked. “The phones are down, remember…”

  “It’s worth a try,” Ben said.

  “Well, while you are messing with that, I'm going to go upstairs and grab a few things. You okay with that?”

  Ben nodded.

  “I’m going with you,” Sarah insisted.

  “No… No, you stay here. When Becca comes back around, Z might need your help.” Kyle said. “I’m only going to be a few minutes. I promise.”

  In truth, he did want her to come with him, and he couldn’t care less about Becca getting better. What Ben had said, back at the grocery store, really stuck in his head. It was his fault that he was a mess. If anyone was going to change that, it needed to be him. He didn’t want her to see his apartment. Not after seeing Ben’s tidy little place. His place was a disaster zon
e; Hurricane Katrina in apartment form. It was embarrassing. Looking down at his food stained shirt and his bare feet; Kyle was just as much of a mess himself. As much as he felt like he had Sarah figured out, he didn’t want to become that slob of a boyfriend that she waited on hand and foot. She deserved more than that. He didn’t know why, but being around her and talking with her, made him want to change. It made him want to feel better about himself.

  He liked the new feeling almost as much as he liked her.

  “But…”

  “No buts, I’ll be right back.”

  “What about your coat and gloves,” she insisted.

  “If anything in the air is going to kill me, I think it would have done it by now. See you guys in a minute.”

  Sarah nodded her weary glance. Ben didn’t respond, because his eyes were fixed on the computer. And Z, he had his own problems.

  Kyle stepped out into the night, alone.

  * * *

  His home was just as he had left it. Passing through the living room, Kyle stepped into his bedroom, and came up empty-handed looking for something clean to wear. What clothing he did have was scattered across the floor, with several weeks’ worth of footprints embedded on them.

  Gonna have to do, he thought.

  Digging through what clothing he had on the floor, Kyle came up with a pair of work jeans from when he worked a truss shop job outdoors. The denim smelled of dry wood and greasing oil. Being laid off from the truss shop was the best thing that had happened to him. At least, he thought so. He enjoyed being unemployed. The freedom was so rewarding and he answered to no one.

  The only shirt he could find that wasn’t covered in food or beer stains was a red undershirt. The pocket on the shirt was slightly torn and it smelled of musk and dampness. There was no telling how long the red shirt had been at the bottom of the pile. He really didn’t want to think about it.

  Changing clothes, he put on a pair of stiff, dirty socks, and his old work boots. They felt warm on his feet. He hadn’t worn them in months. The weight of the steel-toed boots brought back memories. Something could be said about a hard day’s work making a man feel, well… manly. He looked around the room at the mess that was his bedroom and sighed. How had he let himself go like this? Working hard had been such a rewarding experience. What had changed?