by Theo Vigo
Billy: I… appreciate that.
Margaret: It's cool… but you're just as smart as I am, Billy. No… you're smarter than I am, but you need to realize that this is not a game. It's not some fantasy come to life. This is real, and zombies are not the only dangerous things wandering around out there. If anything, humans are more of a threat. They are just as, if not more desperate than the walkers, and they can think… most times irrationally.
Billy: (sighs) You may have a point.
Margaret: I do. Trust me. It's not something I wanted to do, it was something I had to do. I felt it in my gut, and my gut is the only thing I plan on following from now on. I suggest you do the same.
Margaret notices Billy's body revert back to it's relaxed state, which is it's standard, and in turn, she lets her own body loosen up. He sits back, getting comfortable in his bean chair, and Margaret swears she can see a tiny smile on his face. She's glad that Billy sees things her way. Inside, she knew he would. The two of them have a connection unlike any she has ever had before, and it makes her glad that he was able to open up to her. To her, it's a milestone in their unconventional relationship. Billy looks up at the paused screen but doesn't continue playing.
Billy: You know who you remind me of?
Margaret: Who?
Billy: Alice.
Margaret: …in… wonderland?
Billy: Psh, no. From the Inhabitant Devil movies. Although, I've read that they did actually get that codename from the Lewis Carroll novels.
Margaret: Okay. Why do I remind you of this girl?
Billy: Have you never seen an Inhabitant Devil movie?
Margaret: No?… Maybe?
Billy: Wow… Alice is the hero in those movies. She's basically a biological weapon, a super soldier gone renegade. She could pretty much take on a whole army of the undead if she wanted to. She's another slayer that I've looked up to during my years as a fanatic.
Margaret: Sounds flattering, but I could never take on an army of the undead. Ten of those suckers are hard enough.
Billy: You're right, you probably couldn't, but she had special super human powers; so don't feel bad about that. Besides, the fact that you both fight zombies is only half the reason that you remind me of her. The other half is your heart. You both have a resolve about you, and it carries you through the hardest of times. I still don't know how I feel about what happened last night, but I trust you, and as long as I am able, I'll have your back too.
Margaret: I'm really glad to hear that.
Margaret offers Billy her hand and he takes it. They share a handshake that sincerely solidifies their partnership. Feeling that there is nothing left to be said, Billy releases Margaret's hand, un-pauses the game and continues playing.
Margaret: Hey, can I play with you?
Billy: I don't know. Can you?
Margaret: What are you, the grammar police?
Billy: Sorry, my foster mom used to do that to me all the time. I guess the habit kinda rubbed off.
Margaret: (scoffs) Okay, okay. Maaay I play with you?
Billy: Heh, sure. Grab a controller.
She does, and the two of them play Inhabitant Devil 6 into the afternoon. It takes Margaret a while to get used to it, but Billy is patient with all of her fumbling and questions. They share a ton of laughs at the many mistakes and unexpected scares, until their bellies tell them it's time to eat. They make themselves a ton of sandwiches, and then play again until nightfall.
When they become tired, they lay themselves down on their individual loungers, and each says their goodnight to the other. Oddly, on this night it doesn't take too long for Billy to drift off to sleep. Margaret can tell, because she would usually keep him up by asking a bunch of ridiculous questions like, what he wanted to be when he grew up, or what super powers he would want if he could have any three in the world. Tonight, when she asks him how many jellybeans he thinks she can fit into Abe's mouth before he spits them up, he answers with a soft grunt followed by a snore. Still wide-awake, she flips on to her right side and offers the same question to Abe. Margaret tries to get an answer from his eyes, but she finds nothing revealing in them, so she returns to lying on her back and staring at the distance ceiling.
Twenty minutes go by, and she still can't seem to get to sleep. It's even confusing to her. Her mind is racing with nothing important, and she loves to sleep.
Margaret: Ugh, silly games.
Her sleepless zombie friend turns his gaze in her direction at the sound of her voice.
Margaret: I'm too well rested, Abe. We sat on our butts and played video games all day.
Abe moves around in his lounger a little. It looks like he's fixing himself in it to hear Margaret better, but not really.
Margaret: Can I ask you a question?
She gets the standard reaction from him, but it doesn't stop her from proceeding. She gets up energetically and sits on the long edge of the beach chair, facing Abe.
Margaret: Being a zombie yourself, how do you feel about all of this slaughtering of your people going on?… Billy and I have murdered plenty of zombies, right in front of you even. It doesn't bother you? Was it hard killing that zombie, your own kind, just to save me? Is the term zombie offensive to you people? Oh no, not people… Ghouls? Walkers? Living dead? Flesh eaters? Do you even like being a zombie?… Is it fun?… If some sort of cure were found, would you want to become human again?…
Margaret watches as Abe slowly opens his mouth. The inside of it has gone through its fair share of decaying. His teeth are blackish green, and a dark inky mucus stretches like elastics on the inside of it. Margaret squints inquisitively, expecting that he is actually about to say something, but nothing comes up from his gullet. He simply repeats the motion of opening and closing his mouth. Margaret chuckles at him.
Margaret: I appreciate the effort.
She gets to her feet and strokes Abe affectionately from the crown of his head to his cheek and chin.
Margaret: Nice chattin' with ya, but I think I'll practice killing some more of your kin.. your fictional kin.
She leaves Abe and goes over where the beanbag chairs are set up, takes a seat on Billy's and turns the Inhabitant Devil game back on.
Margaret: Since I can't get any sleep, I might as well get some practice. I'm sick of that little brat making fun of me.
She pushes start and begins playing the game. She plays with no sign of getting tired for a good twenty minutes.
Margaret: AH! Gotcha, ya bastard! I am seriously getting the hang of this, Billy. You're gonna be sooo proud.
She delightfully kills a few more of the infected inhabitants on the screen, and then a couple more, cutting them down with a virtual AK-47.
Margaret: Oh, shit! What the hell is that?!
Some giant bear-like monstrosity with tentacles coming out of it's ears, appears on the screen and lets out a paralyzing roar, deep and ferocious.
Margaret: Yea, right. How am I supposed to kill this thing?
The freak of nature on the screen lets out another deep bellow, but something feels a bit off, and Margaret pauses the game. The scream had sounded like it had been harmonized with its higher octave. They have no speakers set up, so she can't blame it on surround sound. She is most certain that it was a cry separate from the game.
Instantly, she can feel her chest becoming heavier and her heart begin to pump faster as she sits listening to the silence of the department store. Soon, she is certain that she hears something, but it isn't a scream or a shriek. It's more of a low shuffling, and it is slowly but surely getting louder.
She quickly drops the controller and takes a lit oil lamp to the front of the store. When she nears the checkout counters, she slows down and keeps the light low. With the glare, it's still hard to see out the front, so she sets the light down by checkout 10 and walks up to the very front of the store to look out of the window without it. She peers into the darkness outside and thinks she sees something but can't really be sure with the light from the
lamp behind her reflecting on the glass. When she moves over to the right a few steps to past the reflecting light, her fast pumping heart nearly stops.
Before her and the store, an enormous horde of the undead approach from about one hundred and sixty feet away. Margaret doesn't take notice of her, but in the lead walks a female zombie with long dark hair that covers most of her face. She leads the rest like a battalion.
Margaret: Oh, God.
Margaret darts back to Billy as fast as possible, scooping up the oil lamp on the way.
Margaret: BILLY!!! BILLY, GET UP!!!
The ever-ready boy already has his eyes open when Margaret reaches him and nearly trips over the lounger he is laying down on.
Billy: What's…
Margaret: Get up! We have to leave. Right now!
Billy: Okay, okay. Just.. slow down, and tell me what's going on.
Margaret: There're a ton of zombies outside coming directly for us. We have to go, now!
Billy gets up and starts getting his things together, while pulling as much information from Margaret as he can. The panicked girl does the same, picking up her new knapsack and getting Abe up to his feet.
Billy: From what direction, and from how far away?
Margaret: As far as I know, they're only coming from the front, and we probably have about-
Her sentence is interrupted by the same shriek she had heard before. It is much louder than the first time, and they both feel as if the devil's hand has just grabbed their souls and squeezed them tightly. It's the sound that comes next that gets them going again, the sound of rolling thunder.
Margaret: They're on the window!
Billy: I know. Stay calm. Bring Abe to the back exit, leave him and your bag there, and meet me in the automotive section. Go!
Without another word, Margaret leaves, pulling Abe sloppily behind her. She makes her way past all of the aisles, heading toward the hall that leads to the back, and her peripherals catch the movement of something to her right. She can't help but stop and look down one aisle to the front of the building, and when she does, she witnesses hundreds of walking rotting flesh bags pounding on the front windows. It's almost as mesmerizing as it is terrifying. Billy is a few seconds behind her and comes running up.
Billy: MARGARET, RUN!
He blazes past her, and she snaps back into herself. She continues to the back exit.
Billy runs past the clothing section and grabs a bag of underwear, ripping it open and stuffing a couple of pairs in his back pocket. He winds up, not in the automotive department, but in the outdoor cooking section. A quick look around, and he locates the propane tanks.
Margaret makes it to the back door, which is located through a pair of double doors at the end of a long hallway. She drops her bag, grabs Abe by both arms, looks him in the eyes and speaks in staccato.
Margaret: Abe. Stay. Here.
With that, she takes off to meet Billy in the automotive department.
Meanwhile, Billy drags two propane tanks, one in each hand, down the back main aisle he had just whizzed through. He stops at aisle three and rolls the first tank down it. He too can't help but look up and see the super gang that is trying to break through the glass windows and doors. When he gets to aisle nine, he repeats the process, sending the second tank rolling down it, then he takes off to the store's garage. Margaret is almost right behind him as she rounds the corner and speeds down the same back aisle.
When she catches up to Billy, he is in the middle of filling up a red canister with a long black tube that stretches from a pumping system.
Margaret: Another fire?
Billy: It's the best way to take out a group of those things, and there's a lot of them. I don't know if it'll work, but hopefully it'll stop most of them and give us enough time to make some distance between us.
By the end of his sentence, he finishes filling the second can.
Billy: Take these and spread the gas as best you can up and down the aisles.
Margaret: Okay.
Margaret grabs a can in each hand and runs back into the store.
Billy: BE CAREFUL NOT TO GET ANY ON YOURSELF!!!
Back in the main section of the store, Margaret places one can down and runs through the closest aisle, splattering gas on the floor and all over the shelves. She looks at the front window worriedly as she makes her way round the front of this first aisle and makes her way back up the next, still spreading gas. The sight is extremely intimidating, especially with the thundering rumble on the window, and the muffled but clear sound of the barks and snarls calling from the other side of the glass.
About three quarters of the way back up the next aisle, the first tank of gas empties. She drops it and runs to grab the next one. The moment she places her hand on the handle, she hears a mighty crash and then a few more. Billy comes running in from the garage.
Margaret: They're inside!
Billy: I know! Keep moving!
He runs by her, drops a can and heads down one of the aisles to spread gasoline. She continues as well, spreading gas down another aisle while the walking undead stumble over each other and in through the window to reach her. She isn't even able to make it down the whole aisle before zombies have entered it. It might have been hopeless had the zombies been organized, but they walk thoughtlessly into each other and practically get jammed in the mouth of the aisle in their attempt to get to her. She throws the empty can at them and runs for the back.
Billy spreads gasoline throughout another aisle further along the rows. Fortunately, he is able to make it all the way to the front of one and start heading back up another, before zombies have the chance to invade them. They are, however, not too far behind him as he begins splashing more fluid along the floor and shelves that stand on either side of him. Another piercing scream cuts through the air, distinct from the rest of the growling, but this time Billy is able to keep himself composed, steadily running and dispersing gasoline. Margaret appears at the end of his aisle toward the back of the store.
Margaret: HURRY!! THEY'RE RIGHT BEHIND YOU!!
Yet again, a high-pitched scream bellows out from the undead ranks as Billy's tank of gas empties. He chucks it to the side and sprints to meet up Margaret, but before he reaches her, he takes a second to look over his shoulder at what is chasing him. The perceptive young boy notices a female walker with both of her hands raised to the sky in anger. She growls ferociously, not just at her fellow zombies, but she seems to be directing the majority of her fury at Billy and Margaret. There is something strange about her, nevertheless, Billy catches up to and runs with Margaret to the back, while grabbing the last gas can along the way.
He continues to pour gas everywhere, all the way up to the back door where Abe and Margaret's bag are still waiting for them, then he takes an arrow out of his knapsack and wraps one of the briefs that he stored in his back pocket around the arrow's tip.
Margaret: Come on, Billy! Come on! Come on!
Billy: I'm okay. Take Abe, and get out of here. Get as far away from the building as you can.
Margaret: Just throw a stick of dynamite!
Billy: We need more time than a stick of dynamite can afford. Just go!
She listens and takes Abe and her bag out the backdoor. Billy takes his bow off his knapsack, dips the tip of the arrow wrapped in underwear into the pool of gasoline and lights it with a lighter pulled from his pocket. He pulls back, takes aim at the double doors at the end of the temporarily empty hallway and waits, arrow ablaze.
Only a few seconds pass until the mad group of zombies break through the double doors and start making their way down the hallway toward the little archer. The frightening female zombie, that seems to be some sort of leader, is still in front of the advancing army. Billy takes a deep breath to center himself and fires the arrow. It buzzes past all of their heads, through the double doors, and hits a zombie in the far back near the rear of the group inside the main area of the store. The clothe around the tip prevents it from sticking in
the beast, and both the arrow and flaming underwear fall to the gasoline soaked floor. Immediately, flames rise up and ignite every area touched by Margaret and Billy's gasoline efforts. Billy sees tips of fire begin to whiplash and dance over the heads of the approaching undead beyond the double doors, so feeling like his plan has worked, he nods and leaves out the back door.
Outside, it is a black and starry night. Billy hears Margaret calling out to him. He sees her standing with Abe about twenty-five yards ahead but can't tell what she is saying. As he gets closer, he can make out that she seems to be yelling something about a gas tank. He looks back while running and sees that the store's car garage extends to the outside. Lined up near the area are cages stocked with tanks of propane. His eyes widen, and he starts running much faster.