Five
Chris saw the creature on top of John, “John, are you ... oh my God.”
“It’s hahaokay. He doesn’t hahahave ahany teeth.”
“Do you want us to leave you alone?” Erik asked.
“Fuhaha, fuhaha, youhahaha.”
“This is really disturbing.”
“Hahahah, get it off of me, you assholes!” John pushed the creature up. Its half jaw flapped and its swollen tongue muttered. A moan grew in its chest and John could see the tongue get out of its way. The creature roared.
Four silver prongs appeared in the creature’s mouth and began to twist. Brittle bone cracked as the silver tines twisted through what was left of the body’s tissue. The moan choked to a stop and the thing that wasn’t Bill stopped moving.
Erik swung the body aside and pulled the green metal pole from the back of the creature’s head while Chris helped John to his feet.
John looked at the bodies in his foyer. “What the hell is that thing, Erik?”
“A Garden Badger.”
John shook his head. “Couldn’t even spring for the brand name, eh?”
“What?”
Chris dropped his bat to the ground. “John, forget that. Help us get these bodies out of here.”
John pointed to each body as he spewed questions. “What is going on? What are you doing here? Wait, tell me what they’re doing here first. And what they are. Tell me that.”
Erik grabbed one of the corpses and dragged it out the door. “They’re zombies, John.”
“What?”
Chris grabbed the thing that wasn’t Bill by the ankles. “Zombies, stupid. Now do you want the bodies out of your house or not?”
“Of course I want them out.” John hesitated to touch the bodies. He made several moves to grab one but pulled back each time.
“C’mon, you big wuss,” Chris said. “You were just making out with one and now you’re afraid to touch it?”
John shot him a dirty look, took a deep breath and grabbed one of the bodies under the arms. He dragged it into the front yard.
There were more moans. Distant, but still he spun around looking for the source.
Erik and Chris waved him back into the house. “Quick,” Chris said, “before more show up.”
“More? There’s more of these things?”
“Get in here.” Erik pulled him into the house, closed the door quietly and locked the deadbolt.
Chris double checked the lock. “John, I can’t believe you don’t know. They’re ...”
John held up his hands. “No. Stop. You’re going to say zombies again and sound even more stupid. So just don’t say it.”
“But, they are zombies,” Erik said.
“Do you see, Chris? Right there. That’s how stupid you were going to sound.”
“He’s right, John. It’s hard to believe but the dead have risen and all that.”
“I’m going back to the couch. I’m pretty sure I’m going to find myself there, sleeping comfortably.”
“John.” Chris’s voice was devoid of sarcasm. That wasn’t normal. “Do you know where my family is?”
This stopped John on his way to the living room. “No.”
Chris began to pace.
“John, do you know where your pants are?” Erik asked.
“Shut up, Erik.”
“Where’re Jenny and the kids?” Chris asked.
It took John a moment to remember the note. “They’re camping with her dad.”
“Are you sure?”
“She left a note. I’ll show you.”
John walked into the kitchen and searched the countertops for the note before finding it on the floor. He handed it to Chris. “See? She’s fine.”
Chris scanned the paper. “John, she says zombies right here.”
“What? No it doesn’t.”
“How much of this did you read?”
“Enough. She’s with her dad in his insane RV. Isn’t she?” John felt his pockets for his phone. He then remembered that boxers didn’t have pockets.
“Yes, John. But the note goes on to talk about the zombies and how she’s been trying to reach you. Her father wouldn’t wait for you—he must really like you, John—and she says that you’re an idiot.”
“What?” John grabbed the paper from Chris’s hand. “She did not say that.”
“Of course not. But the fact that you believed me proves it.”
John studied the note.
Chris could tell when he was finished reading because his lips stopped moving.
John folded the note and set it on the counter. “Well, at least they’re safe. What the hell are we supposed to do? Where’s your family, Chris?”
Chris shook his head. “I don’t know. There wasn’t a note at my place.”
“Erik, is your family safe?”
“Yeah, they’re ...”
“Good. Okay. Good.” John began pacing the floor. “Okay, first things first. I need my bat.”
“And your pants,” Erik added.
“Fine, and my pants. You’re such a little girl, Erik.”
“Me? You’re the one that smells like Peach Schnapps.”
John sneered. “You guys turn on the TV and see what they’re saying.”
Before they could respond, John walked back into the foyer and grabbed the bat. He put his ear against the door and heard nothing. He unlocked the door and put his hand on the knob. It had been years since he needed a deep breath for anything other than rage management, but he found comfort in it. He cracked the door and peered into the darkness. He found it comforting that the bodies were still piled outside his door. None had appeared to move.
Shadows moved beyond the pile of corpses. After his eyes adjusted to the low light, he noticed a couple of figures lumbering along the street. If they saw him at the door, they paid no attention. They simply shuffled and groaned.
These sounds weren’t quite like those that the attacking creatures had made. These were calmer. He had made similar noises a few years back after deciding to take up running. He ran for ten minutes and groaned for two hours while draped across an ottoman soaking up the breeze from a ceiling fan. Running, he had decided, was stupid.
He closed the door without a sound and realized that he had been holding his breath the entire time. He shook his head. This couldn’t be real. Zombies? No. That was stupid. They couldn’t be zombies.
But, he knew it didn’t matter. Whatever these things were, they were dangerous.
At least his family was safe. His father-in-law was crazy as hell but he wasn’t stupid and he always had a hatred and distrust for humanity that would serve them well now. That coach was a rolling fortress. They would be fine. He just had to find a way to reach them.
He climbed the stairs with heavy feet and found his pants in the bedroom. He couldn’t find the balance to put them on without sitting on the bed. Across the room, the window looked out on the neighborhood. Pants on, he stood and opened the window.
The world was filled with a silence split with intermittent screams of horror. Gunshots popped like distant fireworks. An explosion sounded in the distance. He couldn’t see the flash.
He dug into his pockets and found his cell phone. There were no missed calls. No notices. That was odd. Surely Jenny would have called. He pulled up his contact list and dialed his wife.
A recorded greeting kicked in before it rang. “I’m sorry. All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later.”
John ended the call. It was later now. He tried his call again and received the same message. Several more attempts met with the same result.
He pocketed his phone, closed the window and walked back down the stairs. The two men were in the living room on the couch, staring at the TV.
John pulled out his phone again and dialed. “The phones aren’t working.”
Chris stared at him. “Duh. Do you really think we would run down here, risking our lives to find you, if the ph
ones were working?”
“Wouldn’t you?” John asked.
Both men shook their heads.
“Fair enough,” said John. “Why did you guys come?”
Chris and Erik looked at one another and searched for an answer. Neither had one to give.
John rolled his eyes. “That’s sweet.” He pointed to the screen. “What is the TV saying?”
“Los muertos se han levantado y ahora caminar por la tierra,” Chris replied.
“What? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means your cable is out. Univision is the only channel coming in.”
“Well, what are they saying, Chris?”
“I don’t know, John. I don’t speak Spanish.”
“Doesn’t muertos mean dead?” asked Erik.
“Yes, it does, because they have that day of the dead thing. You know? Cinco de Mayo,” said John.
Chris nodded. “Right. So, how does that help us?”
Erik looked at his feet.
The broadcast came in so clear that the TV glass might as well have been a window. The broadcasters were impeccably groomed, despite the apparent crisis, and rattled off information faster than seemed possible. The three viewers focused, hoping for a word they might understand.
“El único saber implica a parar es a la huelga en la cabeza.”
Erik leapt from the couch and pointed at the screen. “He said cabeza. Cabeza means head. I know that one.”
“Okay. So what about head?” John asked.
Erik’s excitement waned. “I ... I don’t know.”
“Good job, Erik,” said John. “Your Sesame Street Spanish lessons have finally paid off. Bob and Maria would be proud. Now if somehow counting to twelve gets these things to go away, we’ll be just fine.”
Erik sat down on the couch, folded his arms and watched the broadcast.
“I think it means that you have to hit them in the head to kill them,” Chris said. “Look.”
On the screen, an animated reanimated corpse hovered between the two anchors. A cartoon mallet dropped onto the creature’s head with the crash of a snare and the creature fell to the ground. The image repeated several times.
John turned to the others, “Man, you’ve got to give their graphics department credit. They got on this quick.”
Chris nodded but added, “I think the drum sound is a little much, though.”
More Spanish prattled from the speakers. Erik guessed at a few more words and their significance before John turned the set to channel five.
Erik looked hurt. “It’s just static.”
“Yeah, but it’s English static. So, I understand it.”
“Well,” Chris leaned forward on the couch. “What do we do now?”
“I think we should make a run for it,” Erik said.
“And go where?” asked Chris.
Again, Erik was stumped. “I don’t know.”