Crowded Yet Desolate: A Zombie Novel (11 page)

“You’re right, Cam. I would,” he said, breaking the silence. “Here, he’s yours now.” Ryan held out the baby, who woke during the movement and began crying. Mr. Bennet stuttered, surprised by Ryan’s sudden change in temperament. “The baby,” Ryan clarified. “He’s yours to take care of now.”

Mrs. Bennet protested. “But we’ve never had a baby. We don’t know what to do with it.”

“I actually was a baby just a few years ago,” Cam said. “It can’t be that fucking hard.”

Ryan ignored Cam. “This is your ultimatum. Take car of him or get out.”

The Bennets looked at each other with uncertainty. Mr. Bennet sighed and shrugged and said, “What choice do we have Marge?”

Sneering, she stood and looked into Ryan’s face. “None. Give me the damn thing.” She took the baby from Ryan, holding him with arms extended, like he would soon explode. She wrinkled her nose at his rancid smell. “What’s his name?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “Do any of you know?”

Cam and Albert shook their heads.

She looked at Ryan in disbelief. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Come along Donald.” Without waiting for her husband, she began towards the door, keeping the baby at arms-length in front of her. “There has to be diapers somewhere in this preschool. Let’s see, what’s a good name? Little, hmmm, Reginald. Yes, you look like a Reginald. And poor Reginald is desperate for a diaper change.”

Mr. Bennet had stood and met his wife in the hall.

When they were out of earshot Cam said, “Yes, Reginald. That’s exactly what I was thinking. That’s what all of the urban families are naming their babies these days.” All three laughed nervously, unsure if laughter was allowed in such a dark place. But with everything so dark, Ryan thought they probably needed to laugh extra. Laughter was the best medicine after all –assuming there was no cure to pass out.

The group went to work. They had bodies to dispose of, blood to mop up; the mess was both chilling and unsanitary. Meanwhile, someone had to entertain Jaden, and as Kyle quickly tired of the job Cam took his place. By that time Jaden was asking why he couldn’t leave the room, which was soon followed by claims of needing to pee. Cam blindfolded Jaden, threw him over his skinny shoulders, and pretended like Jaden was his hostage all the way to the bathroom.

After Kyle was relieved of Jaden, Albert tended to his stump. His wound had healed nicely, Albert told him, though he needed oral antibiotics as soon as possible. Meanwhile, the Bennets were being appropriately sobered of their selfishness with the quickest known cure: children. The infant had to be changed, and no amount of selfishness can ignore a baby swimming in its own waste. Inside the nurse’s office on the third floor, they found a closet full of diapers, wipes, and other useful supplies. It was lucky that they were in a preschool.

When they had cleaned the school and disposed the waste down the drains–Albert protesting, “This is not the proper way to dispose of biohazardous waste”–their final task was to discard the dead bodies. Their entrance the night before had attracted many zombies, and the morning chaos had brought even more; they couldn’t take the bodies outside.

The zombies surrounded all sides of the school, beating their fists against the walls and glass, their drumming a rhythm-less cacophony that became deafening as the group carried the bodies to the bottom floor. They dropped the bodies in an empty classroom at the rear of the school. As Ryan looked at the dead bodies, smelling the putrid stench of death, listening to the undead outside beating their fists bloody at a chance to get in, his stomach knotted in terror. Is this what life had become?

As they left the room and closed the door, Ryan saw the playground through the back exit. He frowned. The zombies slumbered through what was meant for the young and innocent, a terrifying sight, but one that also made him realize that he had not seen a single zombie child.
Could it be that children are more resilient to the virus
? It was an interesting thought, but he kept it to himself, too exhausted for another science discussion.

As late afternoon approached, everyone became hungry. Bill had been right, Ryan realized as he stood in the kitchen and looked at the boxes of school food–frozen pizzas and biscuits, instant eggs and cheese sticks, frozen vegetables and fruit–the food would soon be gone. To Ryan’s surprise, Mrs. Bennet volunteered to cook the last of the biscuits and instant eggs. While she cooked, the others picked through the food and found what had rotted without refrigeration. In the kitchen, waiting to eat, helping Cam separate the spoiled food, Jaden asked about his grandfather. Everyone avoided his innocent eyes so as not to spill the truth. Mr. Bennet answered Jaden, telling him that Bill left because the police needed him for a special mission. This excited Jaden, and he probed Mr. Bennet until the food arrived.
I never doubted politicians are good at lying
.
At least they’re good for that.
They ate the tasteless food in silence, and then finished the remainder of the snacks.

The post-meal conversation immediately turned to the lack of supplies: the food was gone, and the ammunition supply was low. Joe said it would be impossible to leave town in their current condition. And to get to the store, they would need the zombies to leave, so the meeting ended with nothing more than a hope that by morning the zombies would lose interest and wander away.

After this all but Ryan left the cafeteria. The Bennets returned to their classroom, hoping Reginald would nap. The twins collected the weapons to prepare them for the following day. Jaden convinced Cam and Kyle to play Pirates of the Caribbean, which involved Jaden and his fellow pirates shooting the monsters that had gathered outside. Both surprised and impressed, Ryan wondered when Jaden had discovered what was happening outside these walls. At least he had found a way to make it fun.

Albert stood last, mumbling something to himself and then leaving the cafeteria.
He’s acting odd
. When Ryan thought about it, he remembered Albert being standoffish all day.

Ryan was now alone in the cafeteria, a state that he feared as much as he feared another zombie attack, for his thoughts were no less dangerous than what waited outside. Just like the zombies, though, fearing their presence didn’t stop a horde of them. He spent his time pondering the outbreak. Was it possible that the undead would wring all life from humanity and become the dominant force on earth? The only advantage humans had was their ability to plan and scheme, Ryan thought.
And we better fucking utilize it before they learn how too
. He again thought of Deborah. How had she become infected? It was seemingly impossible that someone came in or left the apartment, yet he had awoken to an infected bride. The parallels between her infection and Tavaris and Kayla’s infection were painfully apparent. Was he at fault for both? He felt like he was, but he dismissed the thought for fear of going completely insane.
Did someone let a zombie in the school on purpose?
he suddenly thought. The implications of this were too horrible to explore further.
No one would do that. I’m just tired and stressed out, that’s all.

Ryan knew he couldn’t rest until he had an explanation. His mind raced after answers.
I need to know when they were bitten,
he decided. Deborah had most likely had been bitten at the festival, Tavaris and Kayla while fleeing the city. Was the answer really that simple? If so, why had he not seen bites on Deborah, and why did she not say something? He had no other choice but to accept these scenarios for now, the weak explanations giving him a trickle of peace.

His only remaining concern was tightening security. The school was designed to keep the kids in a safe environment, and it did well keeping the zombies out. And if somehow zombies did break in, the group could pick the undead off as they crammed into the single tight staircase. Ryan was pleased with the school’s defenses; however, people, both current and future, needed to be inspected more strictly for infection–any measure in lieu of another bloodbath. Finally, Ryan decided that all doors needed to remain shut at night, as none of the deaths in the school would have happened with this rule in place.

With business tended to, Ryan’s thoughts drifted to Deborah. Thinking of her hurt worse than anything he’d ever experienced, a soul crushing hurt that caused him physical chest pain. It was cruel having to grieve in between zombie attacks, but that’s what life was giving him. His body shook in chills when he thought of never hearing her laugh again, seeing her smile again, touching her skin again, embracing her again. Everything they had ever done flashed before his eyes–every date, every fight, every kiss–which only made him miss her more. Yet before he could manage a tear, he fell asleep, and when he woke, his cheeks were moist and hot. Had he sweat or cried in his sleep, he wondered, hoping that he had cried; not crying yet made him feel like a callous bastard. He left the cafeteria as the sun outside was waning. He missed his cell phone, which had served as his watch in the last few years. Time hardly seemed to matter now, but it still felt odd not knowing it.

With much effort, he managed to gather everyone back into the cafeteria. Once they all settled on the floor in a circle, Ryan, standing in the center, took a deep breath, feeling nervous. He felt like he was giving a presentation without practice. On impulse, he opened by telling them that he felt confident they could survive whatever this was. He told them the new rules, and before he knew it, he was talking about Deborah. As the details became more personal, he tried to shut his mouth, but once he had started, he couldn’t stop. When he finished, he stood there, surrounded by everyone, their eyes intense upon him, Ryan feeling dumb for losing control of his emotions.

“All right,” Ryan said. “I guess that’s it.”

Ryan prepared for bed, checking that the classroom door was locked two times before he lied on the tile floor and prepared for another night of nightmares. Kyle spoke: “We made the right choice you know. You’re a good leader.” Ryan turned to Kyle and propped up on his elbow. “This morning, you ran to the screams without thinking about yourself. And the story you told. You probably didn’t notice, but it was a relief to everyone to see you open up.”

Ryan offered a thin smile. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It just kind of slipped out. I feel like an ass for saying it, really.”

Kyle frowned and remained still for some time. He removed his glasses and placed them to the side, his eyes now looking tiny without the magnification. He rubbed his stump, wincing at the pain. “I wanted you to know that I heard you screaming about Deborah in your sleep. I’m sorry for what I said in the backyard. I was trying to provoke you into leaving me behind.”

Ryan nodded. He looked out the window and noticed the grey clouds sliding over the moon. There were more stars here than back at home, and he briefly wondered whether the stars still hid from the night sky in Atlanta, the stars afraid that the lights, though now gone, would reappear and chase them away with fervor. “Ya, I figured. It worked pretty well.”

“Also,” Kyle continued, tenderly poking the area around his stub, “I never got to officially thank you for saving my life. So, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I couldn’t just sit back and watch them kill you. Does it still hurt?”

“Only occasionally,” he said, but Ryan had the feeling that he was lying. “But it’s better than being dead. Albert did a great job keeping it healthy.”

As the clouds slipped past the moon, the eerily empty room lit up with its glow, and for the first time Ryan noticed beads of sweat standing out on Kyle’s forehead. He was a large man, so it was possible that he was simply sweating, but Ryan knew he could be showing signs of infection.

There was another long pause. Kyle rubbed his finger and thumb together on his remaining hand, staring blankly at the motion. He looked up. “I was never married. I came close a few times, but it never seemed like it was God’s will for my life.” Ryan sat up, curious. “I don’t know. The apostle Paul said that some people were blessed with the gift of remaining single, and I guess I’m one of them.” He chuckled. “Not because I meant to but because every relationship I’ve ever had was, well, they were shit.” Kyle chuckled, and Ryan grinned, looking down at the floor, now understanding what Kyle was doing. “I’m not the relationship type. It’s supposed to make you better, be a mirror to show you your own sinfulness, but it never was that to me.” Kyle brought his hand up to his face and rubbed it. The sound of skin against growing facial hair sounded course and rough. “All of this to say that I could never understand your loss. But I wish I could somehow. I’ve always held a bitterness in me towards God for not allowing me to keep love. Now, I know I’ll never get the chance.”

“Trust me, you don’t want this burden,” Ryan said. He turned as his eyes began to feel hot, knowing any minute he would finally get the tears he had been waiting for.

“I don’t mean to belittle your pain. I know it hurts, and I’m sorry. But I still envy it.”

“Kyle?” Ryan paused, looking straight at Kyle. “What’s going on here? I mean, really, what’s going on? Is this Armageddon? Has God finally written us off?”

“I don’t know,” Kyle answered, tears now forming in his eyes. There was a long pause. He spoke slowly, carefully, afraid that his words would slip too quickly into blasphemy. “I wonder what would have happened had I told God to go fuck himself, not listened to him and married Patricia. I think I really did love her, no matter how bad we were together. Now, I’ll never know what we could’ve been. Would I still be here with you now? Would I even be alive?” He began to sob heavily. He turned away in shame. When the sob quieted, he whispered, “See, therapeutic wasn’t it?”