Notes from a Necrophobe

by T. C. Armstrong

  “It held still as I approached. Perhaps it thought it could get a bite in if I got close enough. Or maybe it was resigned to its fate.

  “I did get pretty close, but I wasn’t worried. I was already in my thick raincoat and ski-pants, and it wasn’t going to be able to bite through that. It was a bit awkward holding the hammer in hands covered with heavy-duty garden gloves, but I still managed to raise it high above my head and bring it down with all the force I could muster, right onto the floor below. I smashed away at the rotting bits of floorboard and pried up enough of them to let it out, but not too many boards…I needed to leave enough in place to buy time and make a quick getaway.

  “I gave one last look at the thing that was climbing out of the floor, and then sprinted up the stairs. I half-expected to run into my father, so my hands were clenched and ready for a confrontation. There was none. All I could think was that my father couldn’t hear me hitting the floor in the basement above the screams that had reached our street. I noticed that he didn’t call out and ask if I was alright.

  “I tore open the front door and looked down the street. My timing was perfect. I could see the advancing horde made up of hunters and the hunted. I quietly closed the door and took a rope out of my pocket. I tied it around the handle and secured the other end to the decorative railing four feet away. ‘Dad would be proud of me,’ I thought sarcastically. ‘A proper knot is the only thing he ever taught me.’

  “I was ready to run. I didn’t have to be the fastest; I just needed to be faster than everyone else. I took one last look at my home and screamed.

  “It was my father! He was looking through the front window, his face flushed with fear as he tugged and pulled in vain at the front door. Something behind him drew his attention and I knew I didn’t want to be around to see what it was…I had already seen enough. I ran to get ahead of the fleeing mob and I ran to get away from my home, but I could not run fast enough to keep from hearing my father cry out.

  “‘Deloris? No! No Deloris NO!’”

  HOUSTON

  I felt cold and sick inside as I listened to the rest of Puddles’s tale. He didn’t really finish his story; he just kind of trailed off and then switched off. He stared at the wall and started rocking back and forth, saying nothing more. It’s like he had this confession festering inside him and he just had to get it out, but now that he had he was spent. There was complete silence for what felt like hours before the cute psychiatrist chirped “Dismissed!” and led Puddles down the hall to her office.

  None of us looked at each other or talked to each other. We just got up and went our separate ways as quickly as we could. I think they felt like I did; we needed to go somewhere that would make us feel warm again.

  And that’s why I’m looking for my mother. I’m lucky; she’s in the first place I look. She’s sitting in our room on her cot having a talk with my baby sister. I didn’t expect them to be in any kind of danger, but I feel a wave of gratitude and relief to see them both alive and well. I feel even more grateful when they look up at me with smiling eyes like they’re really glad to see me.

  I have nothing to say, just a need to be close to people who love me. I take my mother and sister in a bear hug as soon as they stand up from the cot. They’re shocked at first, but they hug me right back. I hold them like that until I feel the cold inside me go away.

  When I finally break away, my mother asks with a voice full of concern, “Do you want to talk?”

  I shake my head “no,” but I do have a question that’s been weighing on my mind since the start of class.

  “Mom, would you try to save everyone?”

  She looks thoughtful, then carefully says, “I want to save everyone.”

  “But what about Martin…” Jesse starts to say, but she doesn’t finish her question. She looks around quickly like she’d rather be anywhere but here and asks, “Mom, can I go? I don’t want to talk about this stuff.”

  “Of course, sweetie.” Mom waits till Jess is out of the room before she turns to me and gravely says, “I want to save everyone, as long as they’re not a threat to our family. You children will always come first, and then I’ll do the best I can for everyone else.”

  “Is that all though? What if they’re a horrible person who would betray you in a second? What if they don’t care about whether you live or die as long as they live?”

  “I want to save them too. People change all the time. Everyone has the potential to improve. You have to give people a chance, not throw them away before they’ve had an opportunity to do better.”

  All I can think of is how I let my family down that night our house went up in flames. I do the one thing that makes me feel like I deserve to be alive: I vow to never let anyone down again. My failure is in my past. There’s no more room for it in my future.

  And I’m going to start by beating Buck in survival class.

  KC

  “Your stupid boyfriend is on the roof.”

  At least that’s what I think Buck is saying. It’s hard to take this guy seriously; he’ll say anything to get a rise out of me.

  “He’s not my boyfriend…wait, what? What did you say?”

  “He went charging up to the roof! I knew there was something wrong with that guy. Here, take this, maybe you can talk him down.” Buck is grinning from ear to ear, so this must be a prank.

  “No way,” I say, but I snatch the radio from him anyways and head for the only place I know with roof access: the loft part of the custodian’s office. I start by pushing through the usual crowded hallways to get there. I break into a jog and as I go I can hear whispers and catch glances thrown my way. I strain in vain to hear what they’re saying. It’s like they just got a hold of some news that they don’t know what to do with, but that’s too juicy to throw away.

  I turn a corner into another crowded hallway. These people don’t see me coming so they aren’t trying to cover their gossip with whispers.

  “Can you believe it? He went onto the roof!”

  “Why would he do that? It looks like it’s going to rain.”

  “I thought he was much smarter than the soldiers. This doesn’t make sense. Is he suicidal?”

  “Is he crazy? If he’s crazy he might do something to us. We should get the soldiers attention so they can take him out as soon as he gets wet.”

  I‘m now running at full tilt, shoving people on their butts right and left. I see a path open up in the throng ahead of me and I run even faster. I feel my heart’s going to explode from running and my head’s going to explode from panic.

  I’m tearing down the hallway and yelling into the radio “Ghost! Where are you Ghost?!” I’m not sure if he can hear me because I can’t figure out how he’d get a hold of a radio. It’s not that I think he’s incapable of getting one. If there’s anyone who could pinch one of those off a soldier, it’s Ghost. It’s just that I thought if he had one, he’d tell me.

  I finally reach the custodian’s office and start up the stairs to the roof, but I’m stopped by a crowd taking up space on the steps. It’s Buck’s buddies having a standoff with the Dumb Luck Club. Kaboom’s eyes are bugging out with fury as he shouts at them. “Back off and let us get him! You have to let us try!” Nemesis and Houston flank him, their hands balled into fists.

  Neckless Neal scowls back at the group pressing on him. “We don’t know who’s got the key to this padlock!” He points to a shiny new lock I’ve never seen before. “And you’re as good as dead if you do get past it, it’s going to rain any second now.” There’s hate shining in so many eyes, but they know that what Neal says is right—we don’t have bolt cutters, and we’re not wearing anything waterproof.

  But I know Ghost. He thinks on his feet and always finds a way out of a hopeless situation. I squeeze the button on the radio and start to plead “Ghost! Go back! Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not worth it! We need you alive!”

  “I need you alive” is what I’m thinking. I do something I’ve managed to not d
o most of my life: I start to cry. All the feelings I’ve been holding back force their way out of me, pushing logic aside. I’m no longer capable of rational thought. I feel I’m so close to Ghost but I’m about to lose him because I can’t figure out a way to save him. I run straight at Neal, brandishing the radio as a weapon, but hands from behind me hold me fast, stopping me from running into Neal’s now-raised gun. Wait, Neal has a gun? Since when did they start giving students guns?

  “Get off me!” I shout. “Get away from me or so help me I’ll punch you in the face!”

  Neal’s gun is shaking. I’m shaking. Whoever’s holding me is shaking. We stand there in a quivering stalemate, my mind racing to think of some way I can get through that padlock and reach Ghost without both of us dying in the process. Maybe I can convince Neal to shoot at the lock…

  The radio crackles to life. “KC? KC! Are you there?” I go weak at the sound of his voice and sink to the ground. He’s still alive!

  I press the button back down to speak, but the radio is ripped out of my hands. I jump to my feet and find myself face to face with Buck. He’s holding the radio up high and away from me, so I lunge at him. I miss when he takes a quick step sideways and come crashing to the ground.

  That’s long enough for Buck to make his escape. I need that radio. It’s the only connection I’ve got to Ghost! What if he has an idea? I can help him get out of there! I’m sure he’s surveyed the roof by now and found some weak spot he can use to get back in the building. I jump to my feet and chase after Buck like a lion chasing a gazelle.

  I sprint through the second floor and practically fly down the stairs. People flatten themselves against the wall as I run past, scared they’ll feel my fists if they don’t. I’m running through the first floor, which has now emptied itself out. I run and run and run straight into the school’s entrance.

  It’s full of people, and they’re all staring at something outside. I can’t see anything myself and I don’t care because I’m looking for Buck. How does a guy that big hide? Did he make it out of the entrance already?

  I’m still scanning the crowd for Buck when a group of burly soldiers push roughly through the throng. They back everyone up and station themselves along the glass doors of the entryway. Their backs are to us; well, all except one.

  Buck. I can’t read his expression; it’s as blank as the ones the soldiers wear. As I shove my way through the throng I finally see what they’re all staring at. It’s starting to rain. Ghost is not on the roof. Ghost is out there in the courtyard, and it’s starting to rain.

  Hope drains out of my heart and puddles at my feet, ready for the gathering mob to trample on it. I’m sobbing uncontrollably by the time I reach Buck. He doesn’t fight me. He just hands over the radio with that same vacant look on his face. I grasp it in desperation and feel my legs getting weak again as I plead for the last time. “Please, please Ghost…please don’t leave me.” There’s no answer. Nothing but silence.

  “What is she doing with that?” The General has arrived. Buck snatches the radio back as if I had just forcibly taken it off of him. The General seems satisfied with this and turns his attention to the school grounds. I look around and notice that everyone’s attention is focused just outside the entrance. I’m trying to look too, but it’s hard to see through my tears. I can’t stop them from flowing. I feel that now that I’ve started crying, I’ll never stop.

  Naked is suddenly at my side, barking furiously. I hear a scream followed by another and another. The fire alarm comes to life just as somebody shouts “There’s one of them on the lawn!” People start backing away from the windows and doors. I can hear shots from the tower and walls and I can hear them hit closer and closer to the entrance. Why are they trying to shoot the school? All but the morbidly curious turn and run down the hallway towards their rooms.

  I don’t run though, I’m rooted to the spot. I wipe my tears away and suddenly I can see what Naked is barking about.

  It’s Ghost! He’s making his way back to me! I can see his “I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay” clothes through a cheap 7-11 rain poncho. He looks more like a ghost than ever with all that plastic floating around him. My heart beats with renewed hope—if he’s wearing a poncho he’s safe from infected rain! “Get them to stop shooting!” I scream at the soldiers. “He's still alive!” I’ve introduced enough doubt into the situation to make the soldiers pause and ask, “Sir?”

  One of the bullets from the tower brings Ghost down. “No!” I wail. I wait for him to get up, feel my heart soar when he does, and then remember that that’s a bad thing. Another shot hits him and makes him stumble, but he carries on towards us. A third shot hits his arm, almost spinning him around and still he trudges towards the school. Towards me.

  “Sir?”

  “I’m on it.” The General casually unlocks one of the front doors, swings it open, points a gun straight at Ghost’s face, and fires.

  It’s all too much for me. Blackness fills the corners of my vision and all I can see in the middle of my sight is Ghost face down in the mud. From somewhere behind me I can faintly hear my mother calling out “KC! KC!”

  My view of Ghost’s lifeless body narrows to a pinprick as my tunnel vision closes up and I’m gone.

  RENEE

  Houston and Braden ran to fetch me and filled me in the best they could as I pressed against the fleeing crowd. I could hear gunshots from the front of the school, I could hear KC cry “NO!” and that was it, she was gone. By the time I reached her, she was slumped to the floor and unconscious.

  I feel the loss of Ghost, I really do. He saved us more than once and felt like a part of the family. So I hate myself when I feel grateful that he was outside and not KC. Whatever went down, it was orchestrated by the powers-that-be here and it could have just as well been my daughter trapped on that roof in the rain.

  They said they found a makeshift rope formed out of an extra rain poncho and some plastic bags hanging off the side of the roof. Ghost was smart enough to come prepared for the chance of rain, so why did he choose to lower himself down into thorn bushes that would tear away at the only thing protecting him? All I can think of was that it was too dark for him to have seen the dangerous foliage. He didn’t go to Mclean before the Invasion, so he wouldn’t have been familiar with what it was like on the outside. Still, this was Ghost and not some normal kid, so I’m still surprised at how he ended up.

  I feel like I’ve lost KC too. She doesn’t live anymore; she just exists. When we first got here the kids used derogatory nicknames for each other. Some stuck, some didn’t. Handles like “Kaboom,” “Nemesis,” “Mouse,” “Linus,” “Puddles” and “Doom” had completely replaced their original names. I heard KC’s new nickname “Katatonic” once before this happened, but it hadn’t been used until now. Sometimes I hear people whispering that her nickname turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. KC would remain on her cot and stare at the ceiling all day if we let her; fortunately I can count on her friends to lead her gently down the hallway to her classes, the library, the showers, whatever we feel she needs. We have to plead with her to eat, and she only relents if we tell her we’ll let her return to her cot if she does.

  I don’t know what to do or say to make her feel better. No one does. Her friends are there for her as much as she lets them, but everyone else gives her a wide breadth. The only thing that’s changed is her growing closeness to Lisl/Nemesis and the presence of Martin’s cat. That cat sort of disappeared after we arrived; we were lucky if we caught the occasional glimpse of it scrounging for food under the cafeteria tables. Now he’s become KC’s shadow. It’s as if he could sense she needed a silent friend to stroke like a worry stone. He’s become her wordless comforter, curling up with her on her cot and following faithfully behind as KC drifts between classes and through what’s left of her life.

  KC

  The first night after Ghost died, I lay down on my cot and focused on my heart. I knew there was nothing I could do to heal it,
so I concentrated on trying to stop it. I was just starting to feel there might be a future after all when I discovered how Ghost felt for me. When we talked I could imagine a life beyond the refugee center, even beyond my family. He gave me a reason to get up in the morning, and he put to rest any thoughts I had about giving up. He made me want to carry on.

  But if someone like Ghost can’t make it, then who can? What’s the point if we’re all facing the inevitable? How much more food and water do we have anyways? Do we stand a chance against the soldiers with their equipment and weapons when supplies get scarce? They look at us with such obvious disdain…if they look at us at all. They even try to avoid using our names, like a parent at the pound discouraging their kids from naming animals they have no intention of giving a home to.

  And if Ghost couldn’t take care of himself, how can I take care of my family? I can’t imagine feeling emptier than I do now, yet I know I could if something happened to them. If the soldiers do decide to take us out, I hope they do it with some kind of sleeping gas so we can lie down and never get up. Right now that sounds like the best outcome, peacefully drifting off until we’re free of all the fear and loss we suffer from day to day. I’m sure the soldiers would prefer to do it that way because they’d rather save their bullets for the Infected. And that’s pretty much all the hope that I can muster these days.