Blood of the Dead: A Zombie Novel (Undead World Trilogy, Book One) (13 page)

The row of teller stations in front of him were covered with scattered papers, those stupid pens attached to chains dangling off their corners, hanging above the floor.

He took another step and a foul smell greeted him. Immediately he got his eye behind the site at the end of the barrel and pointed it toward where he thought the smell was coming from. The stench grew thicker the nearer he came to the teller counter and when he was right up against it, he scanned the carpeted floor on the other side. Nothing. Just a few swivel chairs, a couple still upright, three more on their sides on the floor.

His eyes immediately drew to the source of the light.

A flashlight. It was still on, barely shining, in the far right corner next to the cash dispenser.

There’s probably a heap of dough still in there
. For a second he wondered if the .22 had enough gusto to blast it open. Not a chance. Then he felt ashamed at the thought and was about to raise eyes to the ceiling to say sorry when a foul waft of something sharp and thick pierced his nostrils.

He exhaled through his nose, blowing the smell out and decided to breathe through his mouth from here on in.

Rounding the teller counter, he went straight for the flashlight in the corner. Crouching down, his old knees creaking, he picked it up, straightened, then checked the bulb. The light wouldn’t last the night, he suspected. It was more orange than yellow.

“Who dropped you?” he wondered.
And how long ago? A day or two at most. Probably a day.

That wasn’t there before unless I missed it.

The chair was on a three-quarter angle so he couldn’t see what it was. He placed the end of the flashlight in his mouth, held the rifle tight in both hands, and approached the chair. Even at a couple of feet away, the shape was still difficult to make out. It looked soft, like a black cat curled up. A dead cat, maybe? Whatever it was, its funk made him want to throw up.

A woman’s head sat on the chair, her eyes open and rolled so far back that the irises were half circles at the top of her eyeballs. The mouth hung slack, rimmed with black and red. The skin, though he couldn’t be sure in the light available, seemed a dark, dark gray, with small black craters spotting the cheeks. Buckets of blood soaked the chair and the floor beneath it.

It took a second for it to register that the light glimmered off the blood; it was still wet.

Scccrpt. Scccrpt. Scccrpt.

August shone the light higher. “Who is it? Who’s there?”

Nothing but a dark room answered him.

Scccrpt.

“I mean it! Answer me!”

He put the light back in his mouth and aimed his rifle high, ready to blast the head off anything that approached him whether it was alive, dying or dead.

Bang!

The fabric of the man’s white collared shirt burst and blood sprayed with the pieces.

August’s hands still vibrated from the instinctive pull of the trigger. He shone the light on the man and discovered the fellow’s legs were eaten away, his arms and his head.

He closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, then opened his eyes again.

Man, could he use a drink.

As quickly as he could, he pushed the torso out of the safe with his feet then grabbed the large, steel bar on the inside of the safe’s door and tried pulling it closed. The door weighed a ton. He set his rifle down and this time used both hands. It was slow-going and he shuddered to think it was because he was too old and weak.

You’re tired, that’s all, just tired. This’ll be easy come morning.

August closed the door and left it open a crack so he could get out. He wasn’t sure if it’d lock itself automatically if he closed it all the way, and with next to no light, he didn’t want to be trapped in there in the dark.

The place smelled of rot, the torso having fouled the air. August wondered if there were more bodies in the dark. Or had they already been eaten or, worse, only partially eaten and were now walking around again?

Slowly, he lowered himself next to the door, mindful to keep his feet away from the crack in the opening, and leaned sideways against it. If something did try to open it, he’d surely feel the door pressing against him and he’d awake.

Lying there in the dark, rifle across his chest, hands folded on top of it, August listened for movement outside.

Silence was his only friend.

* * * *

August’s eyes shot open, his heart drumming a good one. Throat dry, he discovered he had slid flat against the floor. Body aching from being in such an uncomfortable position, he walked himself backward on his elbows and leaned up against the corner near where the safe door’s hinges met the wall. He swallowed, the spit moistening the back of his throat a little. He thought about going out into the main area to check for water. He was too tired. His body and mind begged for sleep.

He closed his eyes again and let his mind drift. He thought about praying but just before the words came, he was gone again, until later, when something stirred outside just beyond the door.

Scccrpt. Scccrpt. Scccrpt.

10

At Joe’s Place

Joe really didn’t want Billie and Des in his apartment and the only reason he invited them back was because it was the right thing to do.

But is it really the right thing if my heart isn’t in it?
April came bounding out of the front room just as they entered the apartment. She bowed and barked and growled at the newcomers.

Joe stepped up to her and put his hand on her head. “Quiet. It’s okay.” The dog stood straight up on all fours. “Don’t mind her. She’ll get used to you in a moment.”

Billie nodded. Des had taken another step back.

The three stood just inside the door, Billie and Des looking at him as if waiting for him to say something.

“If your shoes stink like the dead, take them off otherwise don’t worry about it. April’ll trail you around if she thinks you’re one of them. Might even jump on you.”

Des made a face then took off his shoes. Billie took hers off, as well.

Joe kicked off his boots and took April by the collar and led her into the front room. The other two didn’t follow and it wasn’t until he stood in the middle of the room without them did he add, “You can come in, if you want. Or you can stand there. Up to you guys.”

“No. But I have water. Bathroom’s at the end of the hallway. Why don’t you guys go down there and clean up. There’re a few jugs in there that you can use, same with a tub.”

“What about our clothes?” Billie asked.

Good point,
Joe thought. He had a few things Des could wear but nothing for girls. “I got some extra. You can use them.”

“Where?” Des asked.

“The bedroom. I’ll get them.”

Joe led them down the hallway, Billie and Des following behind, April behind them. A low rumble emitted from April’s throat as she trailed Des’s heels.

The two visitors remained outside the bedroom door as Joe and April went in to find them something to wear. A few moments later he came out with a couple of T-shirts, some pants and socks. April remained at his feet.

“Here. This should do it. It’s nothing fancy,” he said and handed the stack to Des.

Des took it between his palms. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he said even though a part of him was having a hard time letting the clothes go. He didn’t have much as it was and he’d feel especially rude if he asked for them back when Des and Billie were done with them. He wasn’t even sure if he’d see them again after they left.

Des and Billie went into the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

Joe immediately went to the kitchen, pulled off his coat and tossed it on the table. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and shouted down the hallway, “April, come. Now.”

He took a swig of beer. It was old, the taste sharp and fizzy. Having these two here, in his home, made his heart ache, especially since one of them was a girl. The last person to have been in need had been April. She had slept over, back at his old place. Slept with him. They lay together on his bed and it was there they kissed for the first time. That was all. Just a kiss, but it was one Joe could never forget.

It was the first time he kissed someone he loved.

You gotta get past this
, he thought. “Just move on.”

But it was impossible.

April’s memory lingered in every thought, on every breath, was present all the time. Even though she was dead, even though the stamp of finality had been put on things, he still held out hope that some way, somehow, he’d see her again and this all would have been some big misunderstanding.

“It’s hopeless, isn’t it?”

The dog looked at him like she did every time he tried to reason out his inability to let April go: a wide, dark-eyed stare, one filled with sympathy and one filled with the hurt of being unable to help. At least, that was how Joe liked to think his dog looked at him every time his heart went for a trip down the gutter.

By the time Billie and Des emerged from the bathroom, his beer had been long gone.

Billie led the way down the hallway, wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants. Des followed close behind, wearing jeans and a green T-shirt. Both the socks he had given them were gray.

“Got a place where I can put these?” Billie asked, holding up a wad of rolled-up, blood-covered clothes.

“Yeah,” Joe said as he got off the couch and went into the kitchen. He pulled a black garbage bag out from under the sink and had Billie dump the clothes in it. “I’ll toss these next time I go outside.”

Joe’s mind went blank. He knew why he went out night after night, hunting the undead, but to put it into words . . . . He couldn’t even explain it to himself never mind someone else. “Let’s put it this way,” he said. “The dead are walking the earth. They weren’t supposed to. Once you died, that was it. Now, that’s no longer the case. It would be one thing if it were a set amount of deceased people walking around. It’s quite another when they either eat the rest of us who are still alive or turn us into one of them. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, Des. I go out to try and reclaim some of the life that was taken from us. Will I ever get it all back? No. But at least I’m trying. That’s more than what most folks are doing. Humanity gave up, remember? We’re just pulling through and that’s it. Let’s try fighting for a change. You never know what might happen.”

“I just don’t think it’s wise,” Billie said, “going out like that, asking for trouble. Look at what just happened. Crazy. And you want to walk into that? You’re nuts!”