“Let’s…wait a while.” I suggest. We both watch the animal, but nothing happens except for a gradual increase in the amount of blood pooling behind Gerald’s armchair.
“Okay. Okay, let’s do this.” I say, and look back at Gerald.
Gerald nods, and we both turn to look at the dog. Gerald moves past me, adjusting his bat so that he is holding it straight out with one hand like it’s a rapier.
With an armchair between us and the animal, Gerald gently prods at its back legs and then jumps back.
I move around the armchair the other way and poke its head with my bat. Nothing happens. I tap its mangled front leg, without receiving any response.
Wood clacking against bone makes my stomach turn and I have to look away for a moment. Then I remember Gladys and choke. It turns into a short coughing fit.
“Are you alright?” asks Gerald.
As I turn back to what used to be a dog, I notice it is wearing a collar. Of course it is.
I point out the collar to Gerald and he lets out a groan. “That’s why.” he says. “I thought it looked familiar. That’s Dennis’ dog. Oh no, can dogs get infected?”
Gerald has brought up the issue I was trying to avoid. “Let’s get it out of here.”
Gerald nods and we both take tiny steps on either side of the dog. It doesn’t move, so I lift up its front half by its collar and the intact left leg. Gerald is hyperventilating before he even touches the animal, but grabs its hind legs anyway.
We lift it up, and the small body feels so much heavier than I thought it would be. Even with what I assume is most of its blood on the floor, the creature is unwieldy.
We handle the dog around the chair, coffee table and couch. The collar gradually slides off its neck and I let the front half of the dog fall roughly onto the floor in front of the glass doors.
Gerald continues to hold its back legs, but we both look away from the thing to draw a few breaths. I walk to the back door, peek through the windows, and groan.
There’s one of them out there. It’s closer to my house than to Gerald’s, but it is out there.
I explain to Gerald what I see.
“Please open the door, I’ll drag it outside.” he says. I look at him, concerned.
“They’re much faster than you would think,” I say. “Most of them seem to walk at normal speeds.”
Gerald turns to look out the patio door, then spits to his left onto the carpet. He looks at me briefly, then turns away. “Sorry, I’m...” he trails off.
“Don’t worry about it.” I say. “I’ll take it out there-“
“No!” he says quickly. He looks at me “No. Let me take care of this.”
“Sure, okay. Thanks.” I smile at him. “The zombie is still near my old house. I’ll open the door now, and after you drop it in the yard I’ll be ready to close the door, okay?”
Gerald nods at me without saying anything, holding onto the carcass with both hands. I pull open the door and he quickly drags his burden backwards. Gerald drags the corpse almost all the way to the backyard fence before the zombie behind him notices and turns toward him.
Gerald drops the dog, looks over his shoulder and quickly jogs back into the house. The zombie is still tripping his way over the fence by the time Gerald makes it back to the living room.
I begin to close the door, but Gerald stops me.
Gerald picks up his aluminum bat from the floor, then stomps past me back out the door. He marches toward the monster tangled in the old wooden fence. I watch, wide-eyed, as Gerald beats the monster to death with two savage blows to its head, then turns around.
“Wow.” I say as Gerald heads back toward the house. “I guess you, um-”
Gerald marches quickly to the side of his house. I hear him cursing as he walks behind the corner to my right and then I hear several loud cracks. He comes back around the corner of the house, walking past me toward the other corner. Apparently not seeing any other zombies, he returns to the living room.
Gerald walks inside, looking at the trail of blood from the dog we had dragged across his floor.
“We can clean this up.” I say, and push the door closed.
“Watch out, you got some on your leg.”
Gerald turns toward me, shuffling his feet, and I notice that the stain is getting larger.
“Oh, no.”
I run through the facts I know about bites. I know I am an exception with five days of living infection, especially in terms of not going crazy...I guess that’s it. This dog is the first infected animal I’ve seen.
“Look, it might be okay.” I say. Gerald stares at me. He sighs and retreats into himself. Gerald crosses the room and sits down in the armchair ringed by the blood of that damn dog.
“No, it bit me. The little bastard bit me in the hallway. On my ankle. If I had been one second faster, I’d be fine.” Gerald looks up at me and grins softly, but his eyes are dead. “Well, I wouldn’t be a zombie, anyway.”
“No, look.” I say, and pull down my collar, bending my shoulder toward him.
“Gladys is dead, I’m dead, none of it matters.” he says aloud.
“LOOK!” I shout, and Gerald lifts his head.
Gerald widens his eyes. Then his jaw drops. He stands up and slowly walks toward me, but his expression is starting to scare me. I glance down at my shoulder and scream.
CHAPTER 15
The wound is a ghastly black, and the two remaining teeth marks are swollen like blisters. Blood and pus are leaking out from the wounds and down my chest.
The only part of the wound that isn’t a dark, dead black are the greenish veins running in jagged patterns under my skin. They are small, fine strands of neon and they do not belong in my body.
I gasp heavily, and look back at Gerald, who is still staring at the bite mark and holding the bat. I step back. “No, please, Gerald.” He doesn’t answer but raises the bat higher.
“Gerald no, please. Please.” I cry out, and Gerald stops walking toward me. His eyes focus on my face and he blinks. He looks around himself and then at the bat in his hands.
“Oh. Oh, no.” he murmurs dully and throws the bat away. It clangs against the wall and falls behind the couch. “No, sorry, I didn’t know I had the bat, I’m sorry. I mean, I knew, but it wasn’t…no, no, I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry, Angela.” he says, and turns away.
I gasp for breath, watching Gerald. I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks.
Gerald sits back down in his chair. After watching him for a minute, I sit back down on the couch, very aware of where the aluminum bat is.
Gerald speaks up. “I really wouldn’t, I wouldn’t...hit you. I would never do that.”
I nod my head. “I know, I know.” I say, as the tremors in my hands start to abate. I look down at my shoulder and then quickly turn away.
“I actually thought that was a birthmark, on account of how you completely ignored it.” says Gerald. “I noticed it down in the cellar, but it...didn’t look like that.”
I nodded. “It doesn’t- it usually isn’t this-horrifying.” I say, stumbling over my words and processing my new reality.
“How long have you had that?” asks Gerald, pointing at my shoulder.
“I-since I left school.” I answer.
“Oh, where do you go?” asks Gerald.
I blink and start to giggle. The normalcy of the question and his interested tone catches me completely off guard and I can’t stop laughing.
Gerald looks at me, confused, then thinks to himself and begins to chuckle. “I guess it’s a silly question, isn’t it?” he asks.
I settle down as I remember the lockdown.
I shake my head. “What did you say the date was?”
“Uh, the eighth today, I believe.”
“Then, five days ago? I was bit the day that we escaped.”
Gerald nods. “Wow, you escaped a quarantine? They put you all in lockdown after Georgia, right?” he asked.
I nodded. The attack in
Georgia had sparked a chain of lockdowns for schools across the rest of America. Any hint of an infected student and some kind of military jeeps would arrive at your school unannounced. The fences would go up in an hour and a dozen soldiers would become impromptu jailers. The school would be quarantined as long as the government declared the student population a potential hazard.
I sigh. “No, we didn’t really...escape.”
They told us that after we were tested we could go home. I guess they didn’t know how to test us, though, because we were quarantined for about two weeks.
“There was this girl, Debra.” I explain to Gerald. “She had heat stroke, and that was it. The whole school was shut down. Cots in the classrooms, three meals a day, and nothing to do. We weren’t allowed to talk to our parents; we were either sitting around, eating, or sleeping.”
‘Our parents tried to take us home after the first few days, but the only thing the quarantine allowed through were our own clothes, with the understanding that the clothes would be disposed of whenever we were released.
‘The risk of infection’ stopped everything.
There was still plenty of electricity and we were all following the reports from all across the country on our phones.”
Gerald nods at me. I grin weakly. “It happened so fast.” I look down at the bloody spot on the floor. “I guess it’s still pretty fast. Dogs.” Gerald nods and we sit in silence together for a little while.
“Did you have any warning?” asks Gerald. I look at him. “Before the government left?”
“Oh. Mm, no. Not really.” I think back. “The food stopped coming. They had been delivering two meals a day by the second week, and then the food just stopped one day. The soldier watching over us walked out of the class that afternoon. None of us could see outside, but it sounded like all the vehicles drove away.
‘Later...I mean, one kid used the bathroom in a trash can.” I look up at Gerald, who is watching me somberly.
“That was the breaking point for my classroom. Some of the boys started bashing at the door and everyone was trying to call their parents. The networks had been down for a couple days at this point, but we didn’t know what else to do.”
‘One girl vomited from the way the classroom smelled. She wasn’t going to use the trash can, of course, and messed up the floor. Other people were getting sick and soon everyone started throwing themselves at the classroom door. I understand what it really means to be a mob. I wasn’t thinking. Nobody was thinking anything except ‘open the door.’”
‘A few of the boys kept bashing themselves against the door until it opened.” I break off and Gerald looks up at me, concerned and fascinated.
“It was early evening and there were several grown-ups walking around in the grass. A soldier said ‘hello’ and walked toward the mob of us pouring out of the classroom.
‘We were all scared that we would get in trouble for leaving the classroom. Taryn asked him what was happening. He-he said ‘hello’ again.” I stop talking. Gerald doesn’t say anything.
I’m crying again. “So this ‘hello’ guy leans down and tries to bite Taryn. Taryn says, like, ‘what the hell,’ you know, and puts up her hands, so ‘hello’ guy bites her hand. And he-just keeps biting.”
“Oh my god.” says Gerald.
“And then Taryn starts screaming. She tries to hit this guy, but you know, it doesn’t really-you have to get their brain. So he chews her fingers, and Taryn is screaming and then other adults start walking toward us. We all scattered, and I know some of my classmates were caught by...the zombies.” I feel tears leaking from my eyes.
“I ran away.” I say, and look at Gerald. “I just ran.” I break down sobbing, unable to control myself.
“Hey, now, it’s okay. Things were out of your control. Good. You should have run. It’s good you left.” He tries to smile.
I throw my hands up in the air. “It was-they were all dead. Everybody outside was dying, and the other classrooms still had students in them, and my classmates were screaming-“” I cough, and try to catch my breath. After I calm down a little, I continue.
“I was screaming with everyone else when someone yelled at me. Then I felt teeth-“ I pause and look down at my wound. “It was Mr. Davis. My social studies teacher, he had walked up while the soldier was eating Taryn.
‘We had all started running and there were so many people, I didn’t realize he was there. I ran past him and he just swooped down at me, so fast. I kept running, but I knew...I could feel it.”
“Some of us made it to the front gate. There was this thing on the ground, with no hands, kicking its way toward us on the other side of the gate. There were no soldiers anywhere, and no jeeps.”
I can see it; I am living it again. “It’s like its legs wouldn’t work together, although I could see the both of them kicking. It was...grotesque.” I look away from Gerald and remember the thing, kicking like it was trying to swim.
“Some kid grabbed bolt cutters from shop class and we managed to cut a hole in the fence away from the main gate. We ran away into the parking lot. A couple parents were there, waiting. But only a couple. The rest of us were alone.
‘For a minute, we started organizing a plan to get back home together, but then this one guy, Derek, noticed the blood on my shirt. Then everyone knew.”
I remembered the looks of horror, and then pity, from my classmates. They all left me, nobody wanted to risk infection.
“The next thing I remember is driving away in my car. There were huge concrete barricades on the road and I had to drive off the road to leave school.”
Gerald stares at me for a long time. “We locked our doors.”
I stare blankly at him. “What?”
“Gladys and I. You had it so much worse. When we heard about...the things you’re talking about, we locked our doors. When you showed up yesterday, it was the first time anything had gotten in.”
I think of the broken glass and the three attacks since I had arrived. “I’m so sorry, Gerald. I’m so sorry.”
He waves my apologies away. “No, no, it...it happened.” He sighs, then smiles up at me. “I’m glad you made it. Even if I...” He held out his hands wide. “This is the world, we just live in it, right?”
Gerald looks down at his ankle, which isn’t flowing freely anymore. The blood must be starting to clot. Too bad.
I look at the ankle, and I think about the cellar. Kill him.
What the hell? I jerk back, and try to figure out where my thoughts are coming from. My shoulder throbs and I push the thought out of my mind.
Gerald notices my reaction and looks up. “It’s not looking good, is it?”
After a moment I realize he’s talking about his ankle. My bite mark stings under my shirt. Gerald and I don’t move for several minutes.
I think about the house, and the bathroom.
“Hey, let’s board up the bathroom window.” I say.
Gerald looks down at his ankle and then up at me. He pushes himself up from the armchair, coughs, and walks off. He comes back with a toolbox and walks into the bathroom. I follow him into the bathroom.
We stare at the smooth tile and wall. Gerald explains that the wall isn’t even wood, just plaster. I shrug.
“This is way easier in the movies. Nails, a hammer, done.”
“They also have heaps of wooden planks lying around.” adds Gerald.
I look around, and neither of us can think of anything. “Do you have extra chairs?”
“There’s one...” Gerald sighs loudly. “I guess two extra chairs in the kitchen. But all the wood is curved. Gladys really likes their design.” Gerald coughs quietly and a tear rolls down his face. He snorts loudly, then wipes his nose and looks at me.
I nod, feeling awful for Gerald, and look around. “The cabinets.” I point at the cabinet doors under the sink, then back at the towel cubby.
Gerald smiles in understanding and nods. “I think that will work.” I grab a cabinet door and look at
it. Gerald opens the toolbox and pulls out a couple of screwdrivers.
“You unscrew the hinges under the sink, I’ll get the door to the towels. I’m not feeling nimble at the moment.”
I nod and move aside so Gerald can get to the towels, then crouch down and begin removing screws. After a few minutes, we have three large pieces of wood.
Gerald looks at the wood, and the window. The towels are still in place. “I think we need a plan.” After pulling out a large power drill and hammers and explaining how loud drilling into the wall will go, we decide on a complex plan of speed and precision. Then I see the glue.
Gerald explains that the ‘glue’ is industrial epoxy, which is ‘as solid as a bonding agent can be.’ After a brief discussion, we decide that gluing the wood over the windows would work about as well as any other form of barricade and is way less risky than engaging in full-on home improvement.
Gerald walks to the bathroom door. He looks back at me. “Okay, start applying the epoxy, I’ll be outside.” Without another word, Gerald leaves the bathroom.
I told him there was no point in playing security, but he just pointed at his ankle and shrugged. I hear the large glass doors opening and closing. I don’t know if he wants to die, or he doesn’t want me to die, or if he’s just angry.
I pick up the tube of epoxy and quickly squeeze the glue around the edges of the wood. I hold the piece up to the wall, and count to sixty as calmly as I can. I slowly let go of the first piece.
The panel doesn’t even twitch, so I slather epoxy on the next piece of wood. I hear a choking noise and panic. I try to count calmly to sixty. A few seconds later, I hear a loud crack, and then several more dull thumps.
“I got it.” calls Gerald. I hear a muffled cough.
“Great.” I call back, breath shaky.
I let go of the second piece of wood and apply glue to the third slab. I hold it up to the wall. “Okay,” I call, “it’s done.”
No reply.
I hear the door to the backyard open and close and have a horrible, sinking feeling. I look back at the cabinet door I’m holding and then at the open bathroom door. After I hear several bumps, I let go of the cabinet door and quickly peek out into the living room. The aluminum bat is lying in the center of the carpet and Gerald is collapsed in the armchair, breathing deeply.
Afterlife (Book 1): Home Again Page 7