Curse of the Immune (3 page)

I go into the kitchen, figuring I should make some tea. Ellen always made tea with honey whenever we got sick. It makes sense I do the same for her and Roger. I take the teakettle, fill it with water, and put it on the stove.

I notice Luke behind me. “What?” I ask.

“Listen, sis, I don’t want to piss you off or nothing, but—”

“But you’re gonna anyway.”

“Yeah, well, at least hear me out first.”

“Fine, then talk.” I fold my arms and lean against the stove and put on my best ‘don’t screw with me’ look on.

“I can’t get ahold of Chloe. You know I have to make sure she’s safe.” Luke looks pathetic, by design, I’m sure.

“So you’re abandoning your family when we need you most. I can’t do this alone. I really need you, bro.” I lower my voice to a whisper. “Ellen wants to be left alone so she can die, and I’m afraid she probably will.”

“Ellen said that?”

“Yeah, she was angry that I bothered her. We need to get them to eat so they have the strength to fight this thing. I refuse to just wait for them to die. I need you; they need you.” I try my best to spell it out for him.

“Listen, I swear I’ll only be twenty minutes or so. I’m sure nothing bad will happen in that short amount of time. Don’t be so dramatic.”

Oh, screw him. Now he’s pissing me off. “Dramatic? You jerk; the whole world won’t wait for you. Things are happening fast, and who knows what will happen in twenty freakin’ minutes? Besides, how the heck are you gonna get there and back that quick?”

“I’ll drive there.”

“You’ll drive? You’re fourteen! You don’t know how!”

“Calm down, sis. I drive ATVs with Mike and those guys. A car is way easier. And with all that’s going on, I don’t think there’ll be many speed traps today.”

“What about all the dust? It can’t be all that safe to drive on. And what if it makes you sick?” I was grasping at straws now. He was going and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.

He raised his palm to his mouth and blew on it. The orange particles danced off his hand. “See, we’ve been breathing this stuff all morning. As far as it being on the road, I’ll take it easy out there. Okay?”

“Fine, whatever. You’ll do what you want like always. So just go.”

I promise, sis. I’ll go and find out the story with Chloe and her family and will be right back. If there’s a problem, I’ll bring her back with me, all right?” His words are filled with concern, but not for me.

I believe he wants to return that quickly, but I know he won’t. Too many things could have already happened to his beloved. I also have a horrible feeling if he leaves, I’ll never see him again, which is why I feel guilty in just replying, “Yup,” and turning away.

I turn on the stove and get the tea bags and honey. I hear the door open, then close and feel my heart sink. “Be safe, bro.”

Chapter Five

With the tea ready I bring Roger a cup. I help him sit up. He’s so weak he can hardly move on his own.

He asks if I can turn on the television. The news anchor is a different person than before. He reports, “We’ve lost contact with most news affiliates in the lower forty-eight and haven’t heard from Hawaii in three hours or so. Here in Anchorage, Alaska, we seem to be the last major newsroom in America, possibly the world. It seems the dust cloud gets weaker in cooler climates, but its effects remain the same, as we’re witnessing our fellow Alaskans here fall ill with the same symptoms as reported from around the world.”

I leave the room and go into the kitchen to get the other cup of tea and bring it to Ellen. As I enter her room slowly, I hold my breath and hope she will be in a better mood. She’s still lying on her side exactly as before with her back to me. “Ellen?” My voice is very soft. So much so that when she doesn’t answer, I doubt she hears me. “Ellen?” Still nothing. She must have fallen asleep.

I creep to her nightstand and place the teacup and saucer on it. They make a clinking noise and I fear it will disturb her, but she doesn’t budge. I stare at her for a moment and feel an eerie chill run up my spine. The sheet is wrapped tight around her side, so I should be able to see some movement when she breathes, but I don’t.

“Ellen.” That was loud enough to startle her. She’s always been a light sleeper. She’s still too still and too silent.

I move around the bed and yell, “Ellen!”

When I get to a position where I can see her face, I see her open, dead eyes, and I stumble back. I should touch her, feel for a pulse or something. But I can’t bring myself to get closer, let alone touch her. Something about the dead just freaks me out. I slowly back out of the room. I can’t wait to get out of there. Once in the hall, I notice my hands are shaking uncontrollably. I press them together and stand looking into the room.

“Oh, Ellen, I’m so sorry.” I speak softly. I don’t want Roger to hear.

I stay in the hallway for a few minutes, thinking of what I should do. Should I go tell Roger his wife of forty-some odd years is dead in their bedroom? I can’t just ignore it either. Finally, I decide I have to tell him. He has a right to know. I procrastinate a few minutes more, then go into the living room.

Once I see Roger, I almost start to cry. I feel so bad for him. He really loves his wife. She was his whole life. I kneel beside him, and he looks at me. He must see it in my eyes, because his eyes fill with tears and he says, “No, please don’t tell me. I can’t handle that. Just don’t.”

I’m speechless. I just stay beside him, not knowing what to do.

He struggles for a breath, then says, “My Ellen and I won’t be apart for long. I’ll be joining her very soon.”

I hold his hand and stay with him for a while, in silence. The TV is off. He must have been sick of the depressing news, or maybe he heard me calling for Ellen.

We’re still and quiet for ten minutes or so when Roger’s eyes stare behind me in horror. In his weak state, he shakes as he struggles to whisper, “Go, Lea, run!”

“Roger?”

His hands brush against me. I think he’s trying to push me away. “It’s… it’s Ellen!”

I stand and turn to see the thing that’s panicking Roger. It’s indeed Ellen, or
was
Ellen. Her eyes are glowing a frightful orange, her mouth hangs open, and she lets out a gurgled hiss.

I leap for the stairs, and she, or it, motions toward me and slinks after me. I run up the stairs, slipping halfway up, and scamper the rest of the way on all fours. Once at the top, I look down. Have to see it again. To make sure of what I saw.

It takes a few seconds for Ellen’s corpse to reach the staircase. It looks at me with those freaky glowing eyes and hisses again. A steel-cold sensation shoots up my spine and into my skull, causing me to freeze. My brain must be trying to process it all. That’s when my internal voice shouts in my head, “
Run! You can’t just stand here or you’ll die!”

The Ellen zombie falls as it tries to climb the first step; it stays down and crawls up, still staring into my eyes. I close my eyes and back away from the stairs. I then run into my bedroom, close the door, and drag my bed across my room and against the door.

I’m shaking like a leaf in a windstorm and looking through watery eyes. The hissing sound comes closer. I realize I’m starting to really freak out, and if I don’t get myself under control, I’ll be a goner for sure.

As some sense comes back to me, I see I’m trapped. My room has two windows, one over the side door steps and the other over a metal basement bulkhead door. If I have to jump, I have a choice between cement or steel. I’d most probably break something important.

I then think of Luke. If he were here, he would know what to do, but he’s not. Why did he leave me? Shouldn’t he be home now? Will he ever come home?

I squat into the corner across from the door and, in my panic, start to see dots in front of my eyes. Not good
. Am I passing out?
Then everything in the room turns blood red with a black background. Before I black out, I hear scratching at my door.

Chapter Six

I awake in a brief and wonderful moment of ignorance and confusion.
Why am I sleeping on the floor and why is my bed up against the door?
Then I see the peculiar glowing specks of dust and the horror rushes back into my mind. I stand and go to the window and view the newly bright-orange landscape glistening in the midday sun. I turn to my alarm clock to see the exact time. It shows three twenty-eight p.m.

I then look to the door and listen. It’s silent. I walk slowly and carefully toward it. Did my former foster parents leave? I’m a few inches from it when I reached my hand to the doorknob. As my fingers grip the knob, it rattles. I freeze for a second. Then a slow hissing sound followed by an awful moan comes from the other side.

My gut twists in knots as I crouch then lie down and put my head to the floor. Looking under the door, I see two pair of feet. Roger must’ve joined Ellen as an undead. I scamper backward and my knee hits the floor hard. The sound it makes causes the creatures to start pounding and scratching on the door.

I stand and think of how to escape. Moving to one window then the other, trying to decide if jumping is a possibility. The pounding now shakes the door. It won’t be long before they break it down.

I decide the window facing the backyard will be safest because it’s directly over the basement bulkhead. The other window is over the cement steps to the side door. Thin metal beats cement. I open the window and look down at the bulkhead and figured I should see about finding something I can use as a rope. Searching my room, I find nothing strong or long enough. Then I look to the ceiling.

Yes! That’s it!

My room’s ceiling has a hatch with a fold-out ladder to the attic. I stand on my desk to pull the cord to open the hatch. When I have the ladder unfolded, I climb up. The attic is completely dark. After searching a few moments for the light switch, I turn it on.

Nothing. Power must be out. I climb back down the steps and grab my clock radio before going back into the attic. It has a battery backup, so the red digital display will hopefully be enough to illuminate the space.

Zombie Roger and Zombie Ellen seem to be getting louder and more violent. The door won’t be able to hold them out much longer, so I close the hatch. I thought it was dark when it was open. Now that it’s closed, I see how much darker it can get.

The attic is a small space, and I have to kneel so I won’t hit my head on the wooden beams or get stabbed by nails coming through the roof. Sitting with my legs folded, I really take in what’s happening to me.

Mindless zombies have taken over the world, my brother is missing, and I’ve been chased into an attic. If my foster zombies break through the door, I’ll be stuck here for who knows how long. Could this be the end of me?

No! Stop thinking like that!

But how am I to think? This is the truth. I’m not exaggerating the situation. I could die in this dusty, dark attic.

Think of Luke, stupid.
If he comes home, he’ll be attacked by the creatures at my door. I have to listen for him so I can warn him before he steps into this nightmare.

So that’s what I do to keep my mind occupied and myself from freaking out. I also listen for the zombies at my door. They seem to quiet down a bit. I can still hear them moaning, but they’ve gone back to only scratching at the door. Apparently, if I’m out of sound, sight, or, I assume, smell, then I’m out of their undead mind.

I’ve always hated the dark. It’s depressing and scary when you’re alone. It plays tricks with your mind, making things seem hopeless, especially when they are. I’ve always had a nightlight in my room when I sleep. Yeah, I know. I’m fourteen with a nightlight. So what? I like to be able to see my surroundings when my eyes are open. Luke used to make jokes about it and laugh at me. Where is that jerk? I sure miss him.

My mind keeps going back into the despair of my reality. I need to keep busy with something. I pick up the clock radio and turn it on. Maybe somewhere out there’s a station that’s still in operation. I turn the selector nob and move from one end of the row of stations to the other, hearing nothing but static. I repeat back and forth, slower and slower, hoping to find anything. I’d be happy with a message from the Emergency Broadcast System, but I find nothing.

Realizing I’ve only checked the FM dial, I switch to AM with renewed hope. I move up and up on the stations, when I finally hear a voice speaking. A girl’s voice, and she sounds young, like around my age, and tough like this isn’t the first horrible thing she’s experienced in her life. She speaks plainly about what’s going on. “Everything has all gone to crap. Freaking dead people are everywhere, going after us living people. Get as far away from those things as you can. That’s how I got stuck in this radio station. I was chased in here. The place had only one ghoul in it, so I locked him in a closet and barricaded it. One zombie is way easier to handle than the twenty or so outside.”

I was so glad to hear someone else’s voice that I forgot for a second my situation. She continued. “I sure hope there are people out there that can hear me yackin’ away. If there aren’t, then I’m just talkin’ to myself, and that would be crazy. So I’m just gonna assume I have an audience.

“Let me introduce myself again for those who may be just tuning in. I’m Avril Corine and I don’t live far from this station. When things hit the fan and my foster parents tried to eat me for lunch, I took off and ended up here. The dead are all over the place here, so stay away from downtown Woonsocket. Stay away from any areas where a lot of people are, because they’re all zombies now. Unless you have a tank or a copter. In that case, I sure would appreciate a lift outta here.

“Here’s the 4-1-1 on the undead that I figured out in my run for my life. They’re slow, like old people with walkers slow, so it’s easy to outrun them. They’re stupid and clumsy also. Their strength is they’re relentlessness, plus their vast numbers. Once they see you, they won’t stop ‘til they get you, and other ghouls will join in on the chase. They won’t attack each other; they’ll just all go for the prize—a living, breathing human like you or me. The farther you run, the more that will follow, and once you find a place to hide, the suckers will wait for you. Stay out of sight and don’t let them hear you or they’ll get aroused and start beating down the door and walls.