The Demon Dead

by Arthur M Wyatt

  She braced herself and trained the rifle on the top of the stairs. John eased over to the stairs and stepped up to the third step. He knew the first and second steps creaked. He stopped and listened. Quiet.

  Slowly John made his way up the stairs. Half way up he heard shuffling in the guest room off to the left. He stopped again to listen. The sound stopped.

  With his heart pounding in his chest he took another step toward the top. As he put his weight down the board creaked loudly. Again there was movement in the room. He heard a door creak.

  Down the hallway he could see that the ladder leading up to the attic had been lowered and the steps were covered in blood. Lying at the bottom were the putrefying bodies of three zombies.

  Must have been demons, he thought.

  In the hand of one was a short length of steel pipe.

  He took another step and was almost to the top when Amy screamed. He spun around in time to see her go flying backwards out onto the porch. Gaining the bottom in a couple of leaps he raced out onto the porch shotgun raised.

  Amy lay on the porch on her back dazed. She was holding the back of her head. Standing over her was the old man from next door. The very man who had been in the attic with Susan when he last spoke to her. Now here he was. A demon.

  He looked at John and screamed an angry guttural scream. He had yanked the rifle out of Amy’s grasp. In quick succession John fired first one shot into the zombies chest to knock him off balance, then pumped once and fired again removing his head at the shoulders. Amy rolled out of the way as the old man’s zombie fell out into the yard.

  John raced to her side and knelt down.

  “Are you ok?” he asked.

  “I’m fine I think,” she said inspecting her hand after touching the back of her head. “No blood… Just a… massive headache, mild concussion… maybe. I don’t know.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I was standing in the doorway watching you and focusing on the top of the stairs. I was expecting something to jump out at you any second. I didn’t hear a thing, you know. It just grabbed me by the collar of my shirt in the back and jerked me backwards out onto the porch. I fell and hit my head on the floor. Saw stars. The whole bit. If you hadn’t killed him when you did I would’ve been a goner. No doubt.”

  “So you’re ok then?”

  “Yeah I’ll be fine. Really.”

  John put his hand on the top of her head and rustled her hair a bit.

  “Who’s watching who’s back now?” he said with a grin.

  "Well actually if you had been watching my back this wouldn't have happened," she grinned back.

  "Right."

  He helped her to her feet and they stepped off of the porch. The zombie was lying on his back, the rifle lying across his chest. John stooped to inspect it. The stock was shattered from the shotgun blast. It was useless now.

  “Here,” John said, “you need this.” He took the 9mm from his waistband and handed it to Amy.

  She took it, dropped the clip and inspected it.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t think I would give you an empty gun do you?”

  “Just checking,” she winked.

  “Something’s up there. I could hear it moving around in that room,” John said pointing to the first room to the left at the top of the stairs.

  “Well, let’s get this over with,” Amy replied heading back up the steps to the house.

  John followed.

  “This time,” he whispered, “follow me up the stairs and stop at the top. That way you can keep anything else from surprising us from down here.”

  “You got it, lead the way,” she said.

  John stepped around her and once again took to the stairs. He gained the top quickly and Amy braced herself against the wall four steps from the top.

  “Here goes,” John said nervously his voice shaky.

  John slowly stepped into the room and looked around. Nothing seemed to be out of place. He crept over to the bed and knelt down. With the shotgun ready, he lifted the bed covers and looked under. Nothing. Just boxes full of old clothes his wife meant to give to charity but never got around to.

  Just as John was regaining his feet the closet door swung and a figure flew out and into the hallway. He fired the shotgun but missed. Blowing a hole in the dry wall beside the door. It all happened so fast John didn’t notice until after he had fired that it was a child.

  “Amy,” John screamed, “don’t shoot, it’s just a kid don’t shoot!”

  The kid ran out of the room and hit the stairs. Amy was waiting and grabbed the boy before he could get by.

  “Woe,” she said, “take it easy. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  The boy struggled in her arms for a second and then stopped. Still shaking he looked up at her and wiped a tear from his eyes.

  “It’s ok, we’re not going to hurt you,” she repeated.

  “Jimmy?” John said, “where are your parents?”

  “They’re dead,” he said.

  “When did they die Jimmy?”

  “The day it started. My sister too…they…they tried to kill me. I came here,” Jimmy said. His eyes watering.

  “Miss Susan let me in…I hid in the attic with her and Mr. Thompson,” he looked down at the floor, “until they killed them.”

  “Oh no,” John said as he leaned against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. “She’s dead?”

  “Yes Sir, kind of,” he answered.

  “What do you mean kind of Jimmy?"

  “I mean she’s dead, but not like the other zombies. She walks around the house like she doesn’t know it. She thinks she’s still alive. She sweeps the kitchen and junk,” he told John. “She’s down there now. She sits at the table and stares out the window most of the day. Sometimes she sweeps the floor or wipes off the counter or whatever.”

  John and Amy looked at each other. They both knew what he meant. Susan was just like the other gomers they had seen. The farmer, Ken, the homeless man and the kid on the playground.

  “Mr. Thompson, he’s a zombie too but he’s different,” the boy said.

  “We know about him. I just killed him on the porch,” John replied.

  “What happened here Jimmy? Can you tell us?” John asked. “I need to know.”

  “Well,” Jimmy began, “when my folks turned I jumped on my bike and started riding. I didn’t know where to go and I didn’t see anyone out in the neighborhood. I rode by your house a couple of times. The first time it was all locked up and the blinds were closed. The second time Miss Susan opened the door and called me. I was afraid at first because I thought she might be a zombie too.” Jimmy coughed. “Can I have some water please?” he asked

  Amy handed him the bottle of water she had in her back pocket.

  “Slow down buddy. Drink some water and just relax ok?” she told him.

  He took a long pull off of it and continued.

  “Ok…when…when I saw that she was ok I dropped my bike and went into the house. She locked the door and we went up into the attic. Mr. Thompson was there. Then in the middle of the night we heard glass breaking… they were breaking into the house. These zombies were fast. Not like my folks. My Mom, Dad and sister were slow and dumb. They didn’t even try to follow me when I ran out of the house.” He went on. “Mr. Thompson had cut the rope off of the attic door so it couldn’t be pulled down and we stacked stuff on top of it. Miss Susan sat in front of me pointing the gun at the door. We heard them in the house tearing stuff up. They were looking for us we could tell, but they never tried to get in the attic. Then after a couple of hours we thought they left because it was all quiet. We stayed in the attic all day. We were out of food so they decided somebody should go down to the kitchen and get some more. Mr. Thompson said he would go. Miss Susan wanted me to hide behind some boxes and junk in the attic before they lowered the ladder so I did. I saw what happened from there.” Jimmy paused to drink more water. “They took the stuff off the door and l
et the ladder down. Then they just waited and listened for a few minutes. When they didn’t hear anything Mr. Thompson started down the ladder. When he was two steps down he started screaming. They had a hold of his leg. He tried to get back into the attic but they pulled him down. It was terrible. He made it part of the way back up but they had a hold of him. I could see blood splattering all over the place. Then he fell back down and just kept screaming. Miss Susan was screaming too. She went over to the ladder and started shooting until the gun was empty. While she was reloading it one of them came up. It just stood there for a second then lunged at her but…but… she had the gun loaded by then.

  It jumped on her and bit her neck but she started shooting again and it fell over backwards. That’s when she started screaming again and shot it in the head like four more times. Then she dropped to her knees and started to cry. She was bleeding really bad,” Jimmy started to cry. “Blood was coming out of her neck.”

  John wiped the tears from his face. This was very difficult to hear.

  “She called me to her and told me to get some bullets from the box on the table where the candles were. Then she told me how to load the gun. She said she couldn’t help me now and it was up to me to save myself.”

  He looked up at John and Amy.

  “She saved my life,” he said crying.

  Amy sat down on the step and hugged him tight. They were all crying now. She rocked him back and forth like a baby as he let his emotions go.

  They sat like that for a long time then he looked up at John.

  “She told me to watch her and shoot her in the head when she died. I held her hand and sang to her. She went to sleep then she started breathing funny. So I just sat there and watched her. I couldn’t shoot her. I was going to if she got back up and tried to get me but she just laid there taking really short breaths. It was dark outside then and I fell asleep.”

  Amy wiped Jimmy’s face off with her shirt and gave him more water.

  “You’re a very brave little boy, you know that?” she said.

  “What happened when you woke up?” John asked.

  “Well…the dead zombie was still there but Miss Susan was gone. I was afraid to be up there by myself so I went down the ladder. There were three of those things at the bottom of the ladder dead. The ones Miss Susan shot when she was trying to save Mr. Thompson. All three had bullet holes in their heads. They were just piled there but Mr. Thompson wasn’t one of them. I stepped over and went down stairs. I was going to run away but Miss Susan was standing in the foyer looking at me. I pointed the gun at her because I thought she was going to try to kill me but she didn’t. She just turned and walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table and stared out the window. I tried to talk to her but she didn’t say anything. She just stared out the window.

  Do you think she knew who I was?” he asked John.

  “I don’t know, maybe,” John answered.

  Jimmy finished his story.

  “I watched her close and kept the gun in my hand. I never shot a gun before but I think I could if I had to. I opened a can of soup and sat down on the floor to eat it. She didn’t even look at me. I sat there for a long time. I didn’t know what to do. Late in the afternoon I heard somebody coming up the sidewalk. She heard it too and got up. I hid between the washing machine and the wall. She stopped at the door into the hallway and stood there. I could hear it coming. Growling like a pit bull. It got to her and stopped. I could tell it was Mr. Thompson. It tried to go around her but she blocked him growling back at him. I thought they were going to fight but she screamed at him again and he backed away growling at her then left. He never came back until this morning when you guys got here. After he left she took a broom out of the closet and started sweeping the floor. When she finished she sat back down and started staring out the window again,” he looked back up at John. “Ever since then I’ve stayed in there in that room with the door locked. I sleep in the closet with the gun. Miss Susan stays outside my door all night until the sun comes up then she goes back to the kitchen. I figure she's trying to protect me from Mr. Thompson. Do you think that's what she's doing Mr. Beckham?"

  "Yeah Jimmy," John said feeling his eyes misting up.

  "I heard you when you pulled up today but I didn’t know who it was. I thought you might be bad guys or something."

  “No,” John said, “we’re the good guys.”

  Jimmy finished off the bottle of water and sighed.

  “I want to go home,” he said, his eyes watering up again.

  “Sorry buddy,” Amy told him brushing the hair out of her eyes, “I can’t go back home either. My family’s gone now too. You know, home is where your family is. So since we don’t have families now maybe we can be each other’s family ok? I’ll be your family now Jimmy,” she hugged him closer.

  “Me too,” John said patting Jimmy on the shoulder. “You don’t have anything to worry about, we’ll take care of you.”

  The crackling of glass under foot startled them. John started to raise the shotgun to fire but stopped.

  Standing at the bottom of the stairs was Susan. She looked up at them then turned and walked slowly back down the hall and into the kitchen.

  “You guys wait in there,” John said pointing to the room Jimmy had been staying in. “I have something to do.”

  “John we need to get going,” Amy said.

  “I have something to take care of first,” he answered.

  “Come on,” Amy said to Jimmy helping him up, “lets go.” Her eyes met John’s. “Be careful. She’s still contagious you know.”

  “I know,” he said. “ I just need some time to come to grips with this, that’s all. I knew she was probably dead but it’s still a shock. It would have been easier to take if she was a regular zombie or completely dead even. But this… I wasn’t prepared for this.”

  Amy and Jimmy turned to go back up the stairs as John headed down to the kitchen. He had no idea how to handle this. Something inside of him wanted to just leave and not look back but he needed time to think it through.

  He reloaded the shotgun then stepped into the kitchen. His wife’s zombie was standing by the sink. Her features were still distinct and she was very recognizable. After being dead for five days, her stomach was bloated. John felt the bile rise in his throat and swallowed hard. She looked at him, and then at the table. John sat down. He placed the shotgun on the table keeping his finger on the trigger.

  After he sat down, Susan’s zombie walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door. John’s nostrils were met with the stench of rotting food.

  She removed a moldy plate of leftovers and dropped it with a thud on the table in front of him. Then she retrieved a fork from the drawer and a glass from the cabinet and placed them beside the plate. Both were smeared with what looked like bloody grease. Getting the milk carton out she filled the glass with lumpy pungent milk.

  John fought to hold back the tears. Telling her over and over how sorry he was.

  She set the carton down and looked at John like her dead brain was trying to process what was happening. She tilted her head sideways as a puppy may when it hears a strange noise. Then she sat down on the other side of the table, turned away and stared out the window and into the yard. John began to cry as he beat his fist on the table. There was no reaction from Susan. She continued to look out the window as if he wasn’t there.

  He sat for a long time gathering his thoughts and calming down. Susan’s zombie never looked back at him. She sat there, gazing out the window.

  “John,” Amy whispered from the doorway, “we need to go.”

  “Where’s Jimmy,” he asked.

  “He’s asleep in the room upstairs. John we need to get going.”

  John got up from the table and walked out into the foyer, Amy following. He turned to face her and started to speak but was interrupted.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly touching his arm.

  “I know what I need to do, but…I don’t know
if I can,” he said looking into her eyes for guidance.

  “It’s your decision,” she said.

  John looked away.

  “John do you believe in God?” Amy asked.

  “Do I believe in God? What does that have to do with anything?” he said looking at her with a puzzled look on his face.

  “Just answer the question. Do you?”

  “Yes.. I think. All this has really rattled my good catholic upbringing. I was an alter boy. Did you know that? Me an alter boy... I haven’t been to mass in years. After I went to collage I got out of the habit. And then when I joined the military it really fell off my radar. I think about it from time to time and we talked about going but never did.”

  “John, do you believe we have a soul?”

  “I guess. I mean… I think so.”

  “Well, I do and I have a theory about these gomers like Susan and Ken and the demons. I’ve been thinking about this a lot”

  “Really,” he said sarcastically. “So you have all the answers?”

  “No, I don’t have all the answers, but I do have a theory.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You know the regular zombies? The slow dumb ones? I think they are like that because the soul is gone. When they died the soul left their body and went to wherever it was supposed to go,” she said.

  “You mean heaven or hell?” John asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe. Regardless of where it goes it’s gone. What remains is just the undead zombie going through the motions of being a zombie. They operate purely on instinct. Nothing else. You know, like a shark. They only know that they need to kill and eat the living. So that’s what drives them. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I think so,” John said. “What about the gomers like Susan?”

  “I’m getting there. Then you have the demons. John these guys are just plain evil you know? The other zombies don’t even know what they’re doing. Do you blame a shark for killing so that it can eat to live? No you don’t. They don’t rationalize it. They just do it. But the demons they’re different John. Don’t you see? They are not like the regular zombies or the gomers.”