Crowded Yet Desolate: A Zombie Novel (10 page)

Silence fell upon the cafeteria, during which Ryan wondered if Bill now regretted calling out and saving them. Finally, Tavaris spoke for the first time, breaking the silence and Ryan’s thoughts. “We ain’t got a choice do we? We’re in the same situation as we were back at our house. Waiting in silence is how we kept ourselves alive. Eventually something will happen. It always does.”

“That’s right,” Kayla said, wrapping her arms around her husband’s, leaning into him as if she were cold.

It seemed to be the only option to Ryan, but even if it wasn’t, everyone could now justify their own happiness: Roe and Joe were back in their hometown, just as planned; the Bennets could assume they were waiting to be rescued from the government like damsels; and Tavaris and Kayla could wait for their something to happen.

“So we wait,” Bill said. Bill then brought up the issue that the food supply was low. The twins said they would lead a group to a nearby grocery store when the time came. Ryan, Tavaris, Kyle, and Cam all agreed to join them the following morning.

“Okay, I guess that’s all then,” Bill said. “I can now show you arou–”

As Bill spoke, Ryan noticed that Cam was becoming restless, not able to decide what sitting position was most comfortable. When people began standing, Cam protested. “Wait. We have one more thing to do.”

“What?” Kyle asked. His eyes were red and his face drawn out.

“With everything that’s going on, I think we need to elect a leader,” Cam said, which was returned with puzzled looks.

“Ya, a leader–I swear, I’m not even that bright and I get this. Every ship has a captain, every army a general, and why is that? In the heat of the moment, we need one person to look to, not this cluster fuck of opinions.”

Ryan nodded. One of the twins would be best. Joe seemed to be a little more outgoing, so that’s where his vote was.

“I vote Ryan,” Cam said.

A quizzical look came to Ryan’s face. Was this one of Cam’s jokes? There’s no way he could have honestly meant to elect Ryan. Then the unthinkable happened: “I second that,” Kyle said.

“Surely you joking,” Mrs. Bennet said. “This simpleton? What does he know of leadership? What qualities does he have that will lead us to safety?”

“I promise you, none,” Ryan said incredulously.

“I should think not, “ she replied. “No, my husband will of course be the leader. He has the experience. He knows what it takes.”

“Oh yes, you would like that,” Joe said. “Take the position without even voting.”

“Now, now,” Mr. Bennet said smoothly. “It is the policy of our great nation to put these matters to a vote.” The governor attempted to reassure his pouting wife, but she silenced him with a gesture. “No need to worry honey. I’m sure these good people will make the right choice . . . ” He turned to the crowd with a sparkle in his eye. “Again.”

Wrong
, Ryan thought.
I didn’t vote for you the first time. And now that I’ve met you, I’m sure as hell glad I didn’t.
Ryan cast his vote for Joe.

“Oh Jesus, no. Not the type at all,” Joe said.

Ryan insisted, knowing if he could not get Joe or Roe to do it then the responsibility would fall to him. “The only reason we are alive is because of you!”

“That’s not true. You know that,” Joe said. “Had it been up to us, we would have left everyone but you behind.” He said it shamelessly, as if he weren’t embarrassed at all to say it in front of the others. “They owe their lives to you, not us.”

“Two more votes for you,” Roe said.

“You can’t be serious,” Ryan said to himself. He gave it one last attempt. “You two are the zombie experts.”

“Then put us on your official board of trustees or something. I don’t know, I didn’t pay much attention in history class,” Roe said, smiling at Cam.

“If that’s true, Ryan, then we owe you our lives, as well,” Kayla said. “Two more for you.”

“And mine,” Albert said.

“Well I vote for my husband!” Mrs. Bennet screamed, standing up. She began to storm out.

“I vote Mr. Bennet as well,” Bill said calmly. Bill’s vote seemed to calm her somewhat, for she calmed her storming to a trot. Ryan was grateful that at least Bill was trying to keep the peace.

“Well too bad,” Cam said. “The votes have been tallied.”

Mrs. Bennet stopped and turned, pursing her lips. “When we are all eaten alive, you’ll realize the mistake you’ve made,” she said, as if death were a better option than Ryan succeeding. She stomped to the door, and, ripping it open, left the room. Mr. Bennet stood up, congratulated Ryan, and followed after his wife.

Quiet laughter followed, but Ryan didn’t join in. “Did anyone consider if I wanted to be the leader?”

“Nope,” Cam said.

Well shit
, Ryan thought.
What can I say to that?
He could come up with nothing. Ryan wondered what they saw in him? As much as he hated to, he had to side with the Bennets: his companions chose wrongly. Why did they want him, a fearful, shy, and overprotective man to lead them against his greatest nightmare. But they would persist, he knew, so to make it easier on himself, he gave in.

“Fine,” Ryan said. “Here I am, your fearless leader.”

“Good. We’ve settled that,” Cam said. “And if nothing else, we made that old twat angry.” He smiled deviously.

While Ryan sulked, Bill ignored the remark. “Let me show you to your rooms,” he said. “And again, I don’t care who the leader is, our buddy system still stands.”

Bill led them out of the cafeteria. The weaving rays of the candlelight caused their shadows to shift against the hallway walls. There were eight classrooms on this floor, each stripped of their desks for use in barricading the stairs. Ryan caught Mr. and Mrs. Bennet arguing furiously through the window of the first door on the right. Luckily, their commotion didn’t disturb Jaden or the baby, who lay cradled by the teachers in the room across the hall.

Joe and Roe gladly settled in the room adjacent to Bill’s room. Bill wanted the experts to be close to where Jaden slept–just in case. Ryan volunteered for the next room and was pleased when Kyle offered to room with him.

“I should probably get Albert to look at my hand first,” Kyle said.

“Or the lack of it,” Albert said. Kyle smiled, but Ryan was filled with guilt, looking at the raw nub. Tavaris and Kayla were directed to the room across from Ryan’s, and Albert and Cam took the room adjacent to that. Ryan wished he could record the conversations that would to take place between those two.

Ryan thanked Bill for everything, went to his room, and closed the door. The classroom was small, with a large white board at the front and a smaller one on the sidewall. Two windows allowed a small amount of moonlight to reflect off the smaller whiteboard, giving the room an orange hue. In the corner, Books were scattered on a carpet next to where a bookcase used to be, evident by a dirt free rectangle on the floor. Besides these items the classroom was empty. Ryan lay down and curled himself into a ball, using his arm as a pillow. The cold tile felt good.

After five minutes, Kyle returned with a fresh tourniquet on his wound. “Oh, no, please sleep on the carpet,” Kyle said, gesturing towards the corner.

Ryan sat up, propped on his hands. “No, you go ahead. The tile is nice and cool. It’ll help me sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ya, you have it. You look like you could use some rest.”

“I look that bad?” he asked. “To tell you the truth, I don’t feel so hot. It’s been kind of a faith-sucking day.”

Ryan wondered if this was a figure of speech or if the preacher’s faith really was actually waning in these horrors. He decided not to ask. He was far too shy to ask something that inappropriate. He curled back into a ball, his head resting against his arm. After a while, he shifted to the other side. Frustrated, he lay on his back, then on his stomach.

No matter what, he couldn’t fall asleep. He missed the warmth of Deborah’s body more than the previous night.
She’s gone. She’s really gone, and I’ll never see here again.
This realization tormented him. It was an odd feeling: he missed her laugh, touch, and smile so much, but he also realized that to see her again would bring nothing but pain. Her body had been reduced to an empty shell, and a ravenous, undead monster had replaced all that she used to be. These thoughts carried him into his dreams.

He was back in college, sitting in a large auditorium on the Georgia Institute of Technology campus. He recalled it was senior year–the last year, the best year, and the year in which you don’t care about anything except getting out. He had entered college with what he now realized were delusions of grandeur, expectations that included partying all the time, making great friends, and finding the love of his life. Parties were plentiful but not for Ryan. Everyone there was so sad, drowning out sorrows with just enough booze to cheat death. If they were drunk enough, maybe they would forget last night’s mistake. Then, when the booze wasn’t enough, it was time for an early graduation to narcotics. Ryan’s conscious had kept him from falling prey to this lifestyle, and he found it hard to pity these people, despite his caring heart. What did these people know of true sadness anyways?

He managed to make friends, but never true friends. Ryan had no more room in his life for people who used him for his intelligence, were only concerned with partying, or were always short on condoms. Worse, his roommate proved to be more of a freakish asshole every year. Each grew tired of divergent lifestyles and always opted for new roommates the following year.

He longed to have someone to care about, but this endeavor had been the trickiest. He dated some, but it never ended well. Contrary to what he saw on movies, the girls always said it was him, either from his lack of confidence, shyness, or his overbearing optimism. But when you’ve been through what Ryan had been through, optimism is the only thing that keeps you away from the shrink. Besides, didn’t girls like these qualities in guys? He found out the answer was no. In real life, girls were attracted to assholes with loosely swinging dicks and IQ’s that gave opponents of evolution a ground to stand on.

So, on the first class of his senior year, Ryan sat in the back of the auditorium, surrounded by strangers. He’d put this class off for four years now, the general educational requirement that made his knees weak when he thought about it: Public Speaking. He would finally have to face his fear and give a presentation in front of his peers. Students began piling in as the time for class approached. They all passed him by. The class filled up, but the seats around him remained empty. Then, a beautiful blonde walked in, and Ryan stared at her as she searched for a seat. When she turned to Ryan, their eyes met and he returned with a stunned gaze. She had the softest blue eyes he had ever seen.

He jerked his eyes away and tried to pretend like he hadn’t been looking, but it didn’t work. She walked over and took the seat next to him. “Hi, I’m Deborah.” Her smile revealed her perfect teeth, and Ryan could just imagine her tongue pressing up against them.

His heart melted under her gaze. “Hi, I’m Ryan,” he returned, trying to act cool and collected.

Suddenly, it was the end of the semester, and he was presenting his topic in front of the whole class. Deborah sat on the front row. Whenever he got nervous, he would steal his eyes away from the audience to look at her. They had been on many dates since the beginning of the semester, and he could safely say they had become an exclusive couple, though he was too afraid to officially ask. He looked away from her, realizing he had been staring, and continued his presentation.

But as he looked into the audience, the room was no longer familiar. Things were not as they had been when he actually lived this scene. Things were frightening, dark; the madness of hell had been unleashed. Intestines hung from the ceilings. Limbs lay on the floor. Blood poured down the stairs like a babbling brook. The faces that stared down at him no longer belonged to humans. Their tone was pale, their eyes bloodshot, their expressions dead. He backed away, feeling dizzy, until he heard Deborah’s voice.

“What’s wrong, dear? Everyone’s watching. Give your presentation. We’re all waiting patiently. Entertain us. Dazzle us with your wit. We don’t notice how shy you are, how weak you are. Lock the door of your mind, honey. Lock all the doors.” Her voice changed into a guttural noise as she spoke. “You can keep us out, just keep the doors locked. No one came in or out remember. But look at us now. Look what happened. You were supposed to protect us, Ryan. Why didn’t you?”

They were no longer in their seats. They stood up and stared down at him with maddening eyes. Ryan counted their collective breaths, watched as their chests rose and fell in unison. Then they stopped, and whether they held their breaths or no longer had the need Ryan could not tell. They ran towards him, their feet splashing the blood on the floor into the air. Ryan cowered, clawing his fingers raw on the chalkboard. Deborah sat in her seat, laughing in the monstrous voice, as the crowd enveloped him.

Chapter 11

Was he awake or asleep? His senses were being flooded with information, and he couldn’t decipher what was real or dream. In the dream-like haze, Ryan could hear a woman screaming, a desperate plea for help, and as it grew louder, grating against his ears, he became conscious to his surroundings. He was lying on the tile floor in the middle of a classroom. In the corner, Kyle stirred. Ryan sat up and sensed something was wrong. He began to look for Deborah at his side but then remembered she was one of the undead now. What then had jolted him from his sleep? Was it the screams from his own dreams that woke him?

Ryan shuddered in the darkness as he heard a door slam and another scream. A chill ran up his spine.
What in the hell is going on?
he wondered as he stood. He walked to the door, rubbing his eyes. Kyle suddenly woke and staggered after Ryan out into the hall. They scanned the hallway for any source of a struggle. Both Tavaris’s door and the teachers’ door were wide open. Ryan ran to the teacher’s room, Kyle at his heels. Peering in, he could see nothing. He tensed, listening. Then he heard a whimper in the corner. They rushed over and found Miss Jackson in a crouched position, rocking back and forth, tears running down her face.

“Hey, please calm down,” Ryan said, immediately realizing this was not much comfort: her sobs increased.
Where the hell is everyone?
he wondered furiously.
How can they sleep through this noise?

As Kyle squatted and put his arms around her, Ryan became grateful to have him here. “Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay,” Kyle said
.
“Tell us what happened.”

Miss Jackson stopped her rocking and looked up at Kyle with wide, fearful eyes. After a few moments, it was clear she would remain silent. But her silence wasn’t completely useless; it showed that something horrible had happened.

Ryan tapped Kyle’s shoulder then turned to leave the room. Kyle hesitated, stood, and followed. The hallway was still empty. Kyle and Ryan raced down the hallway, looking into each classroom through the rectangular windows on the doors. Ryan remained hopeful until he reached the cafeteria doors, where he slipped and, struggling to regain his balance, grabbed the door’s handle. It felt wet and sticky in his hand. He looked down. There was blood caking the door and floor. Without thinking, he ripped open the cafeteria door, and the two of them stepped in. The door swung shut behind them. A small amount of light trickling in through the window on the right revealed Miss Thomas sprawled on the floor, a trail of blood growing thicker to where she lay. Her stomach was ripped open, her intestines looking like purple sausages in the soup of blood that surrounded her.

Kayla was on her knees next to Miss Jackson, enjoying her first meal as a card-carrying member of the undead.

“Dear God,” Kyle said.

The zombie spun its head towards the sound, screamed, and, standing, lurched towards them. Ryan considered the door, but it was too late; the zombie was already at them. He jumped to the side, and the zombie slammed into the wall. This bought them time, but with no weapons, Ryan knew they didn’t stand a chance.

What the hell do I do now?
An idea came to him. He screamed as loud as he could, hoping to wake the others. The undead followed with a scream of its own, then lunged at Kyle, who dodged sideways, barely escaping her fingers. While it was distracted with Kyle, Ryan swiped its feet, forcing her into the air and onto the ground. Ryan begged that her skull would crack from the impact, but she continued to growl, seemingly unfazed. As she stood, Ryan and Kyle ran to the other end of the cafeteria.

Why wasn’t she this fast when we were running out of Atlanta?
Ryan thought bitterly.

They were preparing for her next lunge when Bill suddenly walked through the cafeteria doors. The zombie turned towards Bill.
No,
Ryan thought. Ryan watched as the zombie tackled Bill to the ground, and as, somehow, Bill managed to roll to the top. He began crawling back out of the cafeteria, and just as it seemed he would escape, her teeth sunk into his calf. Bill yelped in what seemed like an imitation of pain. He kicked her with his other leg, his head remaining forward, and stood when her teeth finally unclenched. He tried to stand but gave way instantly, falling back down. He crawled on his hands and knees, moaning in pain, leaving the zombie to finish eating his flesh. The snack was quickly devoured. It leaped onto Bill’s back, bit the side of his neck, using its fingernails to scratch flesh off his face. The zombie kicked the door, and it swung shut, blocking Ryan’s view. 

Neither Ryan nor Kyle had moved. Everything had happened so quickly that they barely had time to register the attack. “No, you stupid bastard!” Ryan yelled, running to the door. Kyle stayed, dumbfounded. “Why the hell didn’t you look before you came in
?
”
That made two dead people this morning. Three if you counted Kayla. Ryan opened the door and saw Bill in a pool of his own blood, throat and neck torn open.

Ryan, knowing he had to do something, froze. There was too much blood, too many things that belonged inside that were now out: a sight that no one outside of an emergency room should ever see. Instead of doing something productive, he bent over and puked. He fell to his hands, puked again, and waited there for certain death.

Two shots were fired, an exploding echo in the hallway. Ryan looked up. A moment later, Roe stepped out of the teachers’ room with a pistol in his hand and blood splattered on his pants and shoes. Joe and Albert followed him. The zombie looked up, grimaced furiously, and charged towards them. Roe held his fire, waiting with his gun raised. The thing lumbered closer and closer, quickly narrowing the distance, and Roe held position. Ryan cringed, fearing that Roe had waited too long, but when Roe pulled the trigger, the zombie collapsed with her face littering the leather of his shoes.

Behind Ryan, Kyle slowly opened the cafeteria door and stepped out. He remained still.

“How the fuck did this happen
?”
Ryan muttered, burying his face into his arms. He had been leader for less than a day and already blood stained the halls. Had he caused this to happen? This was the second time those around him had inexplicably turned into zombies. Would it happen again? He needed to push these thoughts aside. Now, he had to be their “fearless leader.”

Ryan faked bravery as he went to the others, wondering if he really could appear brave when walking away from a pool his own vomit? When he reached them, he noticed the hurt on their faces. Everyone had aged ten years in minutes, Dark bags under grief-stricken eyes.

Albert muttered something and walked back into the teacher’s room. Joe then said, “How could we let this happen . . . if we had not bothered them, they would all still be alive.”

Ryan was alarmed by the words, but he knew they were true.
It feels like I just led another Columbine massacre,
he thought, looking at the dead bodies.
He fought to keep the sobering truth from his mind:
There was nothing I could’ve done,
he told himself.
Nothing. This happened when I was asleep.

Joe lowered his voice to a whisper: “The kid had to shoot the other zombie. I shot Miss Jackson. She was already dead, but we had to . . . so she wouldn’t come back.”

Ryan wrinkled his brow. “Wait. There was another zombie? And Miss Jackson is dead?”

Joe opened his mouth to speak, but then he just nodded.

Ryan felt lightheaded, so he leaned against the wall, putting his hands on his knees. “But I just saw her five minutes ago. She was fine.”

“
I’m sorry, Ryan,” Roe said. “It was Tavaris. He was infected.”

Ryan closed his eyes to clear his mind. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. But they had work to do. “We need to get this place cleaned up. We can’t let Jaden see his grandfather like that.” Ryan pointed at Bill’s leaking body. “Then there’s the matter of the infection.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Roe said gloomily, his eyes wet. “It has to be done.”

“Oh, and, uh, another body. In the cafeteria.”

Roe nodded, a grave look on his face. “That too.”

Roe fired the third, and then the fourth and final shot.

After dividing the tasks, the twins went to the cafeteria, muttering to each other, and Kyle went to be with Jaden. Before he began to clean, Ryan wanted to check on Cam, who had just shot a man that was his comrade only one day earlier. Ryan bet he was taking it hard.

Suddenly Ryan was greeted with another horrifying question: i
s the baby alive?
He made himself walk as he went to Tavaris’s classroom, his head swarming with visceral images. At the door, he saw the baby lying in the corner, completely still and silent. He walked halfway and stopped, his nerves shot and palms sweaty, unsure if he could handle what was ahead. The baby was wrapped in Tavaris’s white shirt, which hid the baby’s features from Ryan. He waited, staring, picturing what horrible concoction the virus and the young blood could have formed. He stepped forward, reached down and picked up the baby. A pungent awful. The shirt was warm and wet . . .

Urine, poop. The smell was unmistakable. And the baby was taking in slow deep breaths. He was alive, and, maybe just as important, asleep. How the baby had evaded the appetites of his undead parents was beyond Ryan. Although not religious, Ryan saw the hand of God in keeping the infant alive. Nothing made sense in this new world. As he held the baby in his arms, his emotions became strong. It was one thing to shoot strangers, but to shoot friends was another thing altogether. Tavaris and Kayla had fought with them; they were all supposed to survive together. Despite these emotions and despite wanting to, Ryan could not shed a tear. He was standing there as such, rocking the baby, when he suddenly realized that he had forgotten the baby’s name. He wondered if anyone remembered. This thought took his mind away from the carnage of the morning, and Cam again surfaced. Ryan, searching for Cam, left the room and found him cleaning the teachers’ room with Albert. The smell of disinfectant was pungent. Both Albert and Cam had a mop in their hands, silent as they swept with languid motions. The bodies of Tavaris and Miss Jackson had been moved to the door.

Cam looked up. “Oh, hey,” he said somberly. He returned to his mopping.

“Found these in the Janitor’s closet,” Albert said, kicking the mop bucket.

Ryan carefully shifted the baby’s weight. “Cam, you know you don’t have to do th–” Ryan began.

“Shut up. I know I don’t have to, but I gotta do something.” His voice wavered, and he choked back tears. Ryan remained silent. He watched them for a few more moments and then left them to their task.

Ryan decided to give the baby to Kyle so that he could clean the hallway. On the way to Kyle and Jaden, Ryan saw the shadow of a face appear in the window of a door. It was the Bennet’s room. Ryan paused and stared, and the shadow suddenly disappeared. As he realized what had happened, Ryan filled with fury, and his temples pulsed with blood. The Bennets had been hiding in their room the entire morning. Had their selfish minds even considered helping? He ripped the door open, and inside the Bennets were lying on the ground, pretending that the slam of the door had just woken them.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Mrs. Bennet stammered.

“You cunt!” Ryan yelled. The word, one that he was not raised to say, tasted bitter in his mouth, came course off his tongue. But a fury controlled him now, a passion he had only felt back in the chaos of the gun store when he had almost attacked Kyle and Albert. Where had this bravery and this ability to speak what was on his mind been his whole life?

“You will not talk to her like that–” Mr. Bennet began, standing up. Ryan cut off his words by kicking him in the face. Mr. Bennet, gripping his face, fell backwards. Mrs. Bennet wrapped her arms around him, as if that would protect him.

Ryan didn’t know what to say. It was ironic. All of his life, he had many things to say, things that could have made him more friends, gotten him more dates, made him a different man, if he but had the bravery to speak them. Now that he had the bravery, he struggled to find something to say.

“Life is a bitch,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” Mrs. Bennet asked.

“Get out! Get out of this building! Now!”

Cam and Albert appeared at the door. Across the hall, Kyle shut his door to mask the yelling.

“What?” she asked, leaning back in fear.

“You heard me. Get out! You selfish, soul sucking little pig!”

“You don’t mean that,” Mr. Bennet Protested through a swollen, bruising mouth.

“We’d die out there!”

“I don’t care. It’s what you deserve.” Ryan advanced on them.

“Ryan,” Albert said. “You need to calm down. We can’t do that.”

Ryan whirled, advanced on Albert, towering over him. “Oh, can we not? Are you the leader here? Did I ask for your, oh, how did you put it, cluster-fucked opinion?”

Albert looked down at his feet. Ryan thought he had won the argument.

“No,” Cam said. “We won’t let you. It’s murder, you’ll regret it.”

“Like hell I will.” As soon as the words left his lips, he stopped. What was happening to him? If having the bravery to speak up meant turning into a complete asshole, then he wasn’t sure he wanted it. Was the outbreak changing him, he wondered, or had this anger always lurked inside? As he reflected, he supposed the anger was always there, but it was now under a magnifying glass. Still, he knew he couldn’t excuse this selfishness. He looked for a way to gain control without becoming a fearful tyrant.