The Awakened (8 page)

Tears were streaming down her face, dark against her translucent skin. “I’m so cold. I’m so hungry. Please let me in,” she wailed, burying her hands in her hair. The sound made the hair on my arms stand on end. She looked pitiful, like a cowering animal, and I was terrified of her. I wrapped my arms tightly around Ash, reaching into his back pocket for his phone. I slipped it out easily and pulled away.

“What are you doing?” Ash hissed at me.

“Calling my dad,” I said, trying to ignore the wails of Madison sending chills up my spine and the sounds of Bandit barking incessantly. I pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Dad, it’s Zoey.”

“Zoey! I’ve been calling you!”

I winced. “I’m sorry. I don’t have my phone with me.”

“Jesus, champ.” His anger seeped in through the speaker. “It’s not safe. You need to lock everything up, and shut off the lights. You need to hide.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, dread filling me.

“They’re alive, Zoey, the corpses…all of the missing ones.” His anger had evaporated quickly into fear.

“What are you talking about?” I repeated, more firmly, looking over at Madison, who was beating her fists against the glass.

“They’re like zombies. Reanimated corpses. All the dead bodies have somehow awakened. Only they’re nothing like we ever imagined. They’re smart, fast…”

“Dad,” I interrupted, surprised at the steadiness in my voice. “Dad, Madison is here except it’s not really her.”

“Don’t let her in!” he shouted.

“I didn’t!” I assured. I felt tears start to come. “What do I do?”

“Lock the doors, close the windows, and shut off the lights. Get the gun. I’ll be home as soon as I can.” I heard him take a shaky breath. “I hate that you’re alone.”

I had started running around the apartment, locking windows and shutting off lights. “Ash is here, Dad. I’m not alone.”

“Oh, thank god,” he said. “Shit. Zoey. I have to go.” There were sounds of crashing and gunfire in the background. “I love you.”

“Dad? Dad!” I looked at the screen. Call ended. “Shit.” I shoved it in my back pocket and flipped another switch off.

“Zoey!” Ash yelled. “Get over here.”

I ran back to him. He had moved to the window and was staring out of it. “Where is Madison?”

“Out there,” he pointed, sounding disgusted. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

I glanced out the window and was nearly sick myself. Madison had someone pinned on the ground, and was bent over them. “Is she…is she…”

“I think so,” Ash said, looking away.

I didn’t hesitate. I yanked the door open and went bounding down the stairs, intent on stopping Madison at any cost. Her teeth, her newly sharpened teeth, were sunk deep into someone’s neck, someone who was so covered in blood that I couldn’t even tell who it was. I grabbed her arms and pulled hard, away from the body that now lay limp on the ground. I looked away but not before I saw chunk of flesh missing from the person’s neck, and blood gathering in a puddle on the pavement. Madison struggled in my arms, her small hands reaching out for her prey.

“I’m hungry. I’m so hungry,” she wailed. “Let me go.”

“No, Madison,” I said, struggling, as she pulled harder against my grip. “This isn’t you.” I had a brief thought of Madison’s strict vegetarianism and how ironic it all seemed now.

“I just want to eat, please, oh god, I want to eat.” Her limbs started flailing all over the place, making it more difficult for me to keep a grip on her.

The contents of my stomach turned and it was a miracle that I didn’t puke right then and there. She was hungry, for human flesh, just like a zombie. My dad had said zombie over the phone but I couldn’t believe it until now. She looked like Madison and sounded like Madison, but there were the eyes, the sharp teeth, the skin tone and the effort she was making to sink her teeth into someone’s flesh.

Madison’s teeth came sinking down on my hand, like little needles piercing my skin. I yelled out in pain, letting her go, but she stayed firmly attached to me, starting to rip into my flesh. My eyes went blind for a moment as the pain ripped through me. I did the only thing I could think of doing, and I fired the gun.

She stopped, shocked as the bullet went sinking into her stomach but she didn’t pause. In fact, it seemed to make her angrier, and she moaned a little this time, sounding a little happier. I aimed again, and this time the bullet went straight through her head. She faltered and stared at me for a long moment before she keeled over.

“Oh god,” I said, falling to my knees and cradling her in my arms. Dark red blood that was nearly black was gushing out of her wounds, and her eyes stared up at the sky, unseeing, as black as the deepest night, so unlike the beautiful eyes I had known before. “Maddie, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Tears were gushing down my cheeks, and for a moment, the pain in my hand felt like nothing, nothing compared to the pain of losing Madison again. I had shot her in defense, but I had aimed to kill, and now she was dead.

“Z, you need to let her go,” Ash said, suddenly at my side.

“No,” I said, my grip on Madison tightening.

“You’re bleeding; we need to get you inside and stop it.”

“I don’t care,” I wailed. “I don’t care. I killed her. I killed my best friend.”

“Zoey, we need to go
now.
”

I looked up at him and saw that he was staring over my shoulder. I turned and my heart started pounding harder in my chest. I picked up the gun that I had tossed aside. There were at least a dozen people heading right toward us. They were a far enough distance away, but I could still tell that their skin was blue, just like Maddie’s, which meant bad news for us. I stood up, taking a step back. “Do you think…do you think they’re slow? Like, in the movies?” I said, aiming the gun at them. I registered dimly that Ash had a fireplace poker in his hand and was holding it like a baseball bat.

At these words, the people started sprinting toward us. The two of us turned on our heels, sprinted up the stairs, and slammed the doors behind us. My fingers fumbled at the locks, while Ash dropped the fireplace poker and started moving the armoire that stood just inside the entryway toward the door.

“Is it locked?” he yelled over the noise that was right outside our door. The sound of raspy breaths and hungry wails filled the air, and it was impossible to ignore.

“Yes,” I said, taking a step back and helping him push the piece of furniture in front of the door. We both stepped backward, waiting, and a moment later, there was a slamming noise, like bodies hitting the front door. “Oh god, what do we do?”

“Shh, stay quiet,” he whispered. “They can’t get in. We need to fix your hand.”

I remembered my injury, the small chunk of my flesh that Madison had managed to rip out before I shot her, and the pain came flooding back. I glanced down and saw blood dripping down my arm. “Damn, that hurts.”

“Yeah, it got you good,” Ash said, pulling me toward the kitchen, and running the water at the sink. The sound of water hitting the basin barely masked the sound of the people pounding at the door.

“It? That it is a person, Ash. She is a girl. She’s Madison,” I said firmly, wincing as the cool water flowed over my wound. Tears sprung up in the corners of my eyes, and I bit down on my lip hard.

“Was. And that wasn’t Madison, Z. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t her. Madison wouldn’t attack someone, and she sure wouldn’t sink her teeth into you,” he said, leaning over the sink and washing the blood away. I inhaled sharply. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I said, through clenched teeth.

“It’s not too deep,” Ash said, holding my hand closer to his face. “I mean, I’m not an expert, but it doesn’t look like it needs stitches or anything. Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Under the sink,” I said, tired. I walked over to the table, as Ash rummaged under the sink for the kit. I collapsed in a chair, my entire body shaking. He came over and sat in the chair next to me. Carefully, he wrapped my hand in gauze and taped it down.

“There,” he said, before placing a soft kiss on the bandage.

I yanked my hand away from him. “Don’t kiss me, Ash.”

“Sorry,” he said, but there was a tiny smile on his face. It was barely there, and after the probable deaths of his parents and the disaster that was taking place right outside my front door, I was surprised there was one at all. “Now what?”

I shook my head, pressing my lips together, scared to say a word. I knew the moment that I said anything, I would start crying, and I wouldn’t stop. Ash stood up, gathered me in his arms and walked us down to the basement where he put me down on the couch. He grabbed a blanket from the armchair and placed it over me. He took a seat on the couch next to me and reached for the remote. The TV came to life, and he immediately switched it to a main channel.

The president was on the screen, speaking gravely.

“Turn it up!” I said, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. Ash obliged, and the president’s deep, reassuring voice came floating at me.

“…unsure of how these victims came to be roaming our neighborhoods, but we assure the American people that we are doing everything in our power to find out where they came from and how to handle them. We urge all of you to stay indoors and to stay vigilant, and await instructions…”

“Sounds like they have no idea what’s going on either,” Ash said, changing the channel. A scene of destruction filled the screen, and the caption on the bottom read, “Riot in Los Angeles.” People were running in all directions, and you could just make out the distinct blue skin of the…zombies. A few of them were bent over bodies, and I knew exactly what they were doing.

Ash changed the channel again. This time we were looking at Chicago, and a scene so similar to the one we had just watched. Each time Ash changed the channel, we saw a different city under disarray: Los Angeles, Chicago, New York, Houston, Philadelphia, Phoenix, Dallas, Miami, Indianapolis, Boston, and so many more.

“Turn it off,” I said, burying my head into the couch. “Just…turn it off.”

Ash shut the TV off, and we were plunged into darkness, the silence enveloping us, the sound of sirens and screams closer than I wished. Brown eyes met blue eyes, and we stayed together, alone, waiting.

I curled up in the corner of the couch, staring at the blank TV until I fell asleep again.

I WOKE UP A FEW
hours later, disoriented in the dark room. A bit of light was peeking through the curtains, casting a ray of light across the coffee table and onto the couch. There was something solid and warm pressed against my back, and an arm was thrown casually against my waist. I could feel a slight warm breath on the back of my neck and for a second, I wanted to just lie there, safe and cocooned. The arm tightened around my waist, and I shifted a bit to look over my shoulder.

And immediately rolled off the couch. “God, Ash, what the hell?”

He rubbed his eyes, sleepily looking up at me. “What?” he said, stupidly.

“This is a cuddle-free zone,” I said, grabbing the blanket from him and wrapping it around me tightly. “You may be in my house but stay away from me.”

Ash yawned and sat up, stretching his arms out. “You were warm, and I was sleepy. I’m a cuddle bug, what can I say?”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you seriously just call yourself a cuddle bug?”

“You know it, babes,” he laughed. I just shook my head, grateful for the fact that no matter what was happening, I could count on the infuriating nature of Ash Matthews. He glanced up the stairs. “Are they still out there?”

I followed his gaze, and I felt my fear, forgotten in the escape of sleep, come creeping back and seeping through my veins. “I don’t know.” Our eyes met, as my fingers clenched tightly around the blanket. “Should we…” I cleared my throat, “Should we go check?”

“Yeah, yeah, we probably should,” Ash said, looking around, as if waiting for a better solution to burst out of the closet and shout, “I’m here!”

“We should go together,” I suggested, “To be safe, I mean.”

He looked relieved that I had been the one to suggest it. “Sure, yeah, if you think so.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again and tried hard not to throw something at him. I reached for the gun on the coffee table and tossed aside the blanket. “Let’s go.”

The two of us crept up the stairs, listening for any sounds that were coming up the stairs. We crossed the entryway, and I could feel my heartbeat vibrating through each step on the cold wooden floors.

Ash grabbed the fireplace poker off the ground and snuck up to the door, pressing his arm to the wood. He then lifted his eyes to the peephole and looked outside for a while.

“Well?” I whispered.

He stepped back, and sighed. “They’re still out there. In the streets.”

I moved across the entryway, my socks slipping on the floors, as I crept closer to the window. I peeked out the curtain, barely allowing a small space for me to look out.

There were at least a couple dozen…zombies out in the street. If it weren’t for the distinct blue skin, it would be like any normal day. They were just milling around, not talking, just sitting on porch steps staring at street signs. They looked more like the zombies I had always pictured, from images I had seen in movies. “What are they doing? What are they waiting for?”

Ash came from behind me, looking out as well. “I don’t know. But they’re all…congregated together. Like, they’re waiting for something.”

The words had barely left his lips when there was a sudden movement. They all raised their heads in almost perfect unison and turned to face the east side of the street. Their eyes were wide as they watched something that neither Ash nor I could see. Frozen in place, captivated, they were insanely creepy to watch. I held my breath, waiting for something, any kind of movement.

Then I saw our neighbor Carl, an older man in his early sixties, walking down the street. He was a nice man, if not a little weird. He had kept to himself ever since his wife had died and tended to go on long fishing trips without telling anyone, so the postman and the dry cleaners would get angry and leave all his mail and clothes at our apartment. Now he was walking in front of my house, his dog Sandy on a leash in front of him.

“Carl,” Ash said, sounding resigned.

“Is he insane?” I asked, incredulous. I reached for the doorknob, but Ash yanked me back.

“Don’t be stupid, Z,” he hissed. “You’ll be torn apart…” His voice faded away as the zombies finally made their move. They moved almost as one as they came barreling toward Carl, at impossible speeds. They were so fast. Several of them dove onto the small dog, tearing it to pieces in a matter of seconds. The others went sprinting to Carl, who looked surprised. He attempted to fight them off for a moment until they overpowered him, and the sidewalk was covered in bits of flesh and dark, thick blood.

“I can’t, I can’t,” I said, tearing my gaze away from the scene unfolding outside and the screams that were coming from Carl’s torn face. I sunk to the floor, my back pressed against the wall and my hands covering my ears. “I can’t do this. I can’t handle this.”

Ash bent down, his elbows on his knees. “Zoey, look at me.”

I shook my head once, twice, three times, pressing my hands tighter against my head.

He reached down and took the gun from my hand and placed it carefully on the armoire blocking the door. His hands came up to mine, and he gently pried them off of my ears and forced my chin up so my eyes would meet his. “We’re going to be okay. I don’t know how, but we’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to be okay. I want it to be the same, I want to go back,” I said, rocking back and forth, my back slamming against the wall with each rock. “I don’t feel safe.”

He held my hands tightly in his. “I know, I know. But you are safe. You’re with me, and I swear it to you, Zoey Valentine, I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you. I’m here, with you.” His blue eyes were bright, and I could see the very beginning of tears in the corners.

I yanked my hands away from him. “I don’t want to be here with you,” I spat out viciously. “I’d rather be here with anyone else but you. Leave me alone.” I sprang up, stomping up the stairs into my bedroom and slamming the door behind me.

If I had expected Ash to follow me upstairs, I was wrong. I paced back and forth in my room before reaching for my phone. There were a couple dozen missed text messages coupled with at least a dozen missed calls. I scrolled through my contacts searching for my dad, and pressed the call button when I found him. It beeped once long and loud, and “No Service” popped up. I typed out a quick text message, “Where are you?” and pressed send, but the same message came up again.

“Great,” I muttered, tossing the phone back on the dresser, where it lay useless. I flopped onto my bed and tried to ignore the perpetual sinking feeling that was constant in my stomach. I tried to ignore the silence that was outside of my window. I expected screams, chaos, something, but it was eerily silent compared to earlier when they seemed to have descended upon the city.

I was stuck inside my house with no phone, and no one seemed to know what was going on. I was scared, terrified, and felt completely unprepared. I was stuck with the last person I ever wanted to be stuck with, but I couldn’t get rid of him.