Dead Soil: A Zombie Series (13 page)

Christine’s eyes narrowed as she tried to make out what he was holding so dearly. When she saw the long, pink, leathery tail her eyes widened in horror and her mouth parted. She should go help him. He clearly didn’t know where he was, let alone that he was holding a giant, hairy rat. It could have rabies. What if it bit him?

“Mr. Alexander!” she called down to him. Her voice carried over the lot.

The old man turned his head slowly to look at her with white eyes.

Christine slapped her hands over her mouth.

The old man’s skin was pale and sagging, but it had always been that way. His hair was balding. A few stray white wisps clung for dear life in the breeze, but Christine had never known him with a full set of hair, or even half. But the gaping hole in the side of his face and the skin missing from his jaw that exposed the red tender muscles and stained teeth underneath, that was new.

When his body turned to her she saw that his light blue button up pajama shirt had been ripped open and the white tank top underneath was soaked with old, dark blood. What was left of his crooked, yellow teeth snapped at the air as he gave a low hiss and then he turned back to the rat in his hands. He shoved the poor rodent into his mouth and bit it in half as it squealed in panic.

Christine let out a muffled whimper behind her hands and felt the sudden rise of her breakfast from her stomach. She repeatedly swallowed the spit in her mouth to keep the bile down.

The entrails of the rat spilled out of the open end and fell to the pavement with a splat. Mr. Alexander dropped to his knees and devoured every last bit with a ravenous hunger. Furred skin clung to his cracked, white lips.

Christine lowered one hand to press against the patio door. Her heart was racing, ready to beat right out of her chest. Her breaths came out hard and fast as it flared her nostrils. Tears gathered in her eyes, but they never fell. The sound of the front door opening doubled her rising panic as she imagined Mr. Alexander walking in to devour her next.

Liam shut the door behind him and started the process of locking the dozen deadbolts and chains. His hands were quick, but unsteady.

Christine forced herself to breathe as she lowered her hand. She watched Liam walk over to the couch and sit down slowly. His face was frozen still, his eyes fixed on a random spot on the wall across from him. Her heart raced again as she peered at him. Something was wrong. She needed him to tell her what had happened, but he didn’t say anything when she walked back inside.

“I went out on the patio,” she blurted out. She expected him to stand up and yell at her, to tell her how stupid that was and that she shouldn’t go outside again. At least then she could get the conversation going.

Instead, Liam remained petrified on the couch with his back rigid, hovered a few inches off the cushion.

“Liam?” she asked and took a few careful steps into his line of vision.

“I think I need to go to the university,” he said. His stale tone matched the vacant expression on his face.

“What? Are you serious?”

Liam nodded slowly.

“Why?” she asked harsher than she meant to. “I mean, what could you possibly want from there? We have everything we need here.”

He shrugged his shoulders up and then let them slump back down.

All Christine could do was scoff at his ridiculous response. He didn’t want her to take one step outside, even on the patio two floors up, but he could get in his car and drive to his old place of work for absolutely no reason? What a hypocrite. Then, she remembered Mr. Alexander and how close he was to the entrance of their building. The urge to leave the apartment left her immediately along with her animosity.

“What happened today?”

Liam stood up and walked over to her. He rested one hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back later,” he said. “We’re having people over for dinner.” He unlocked the door and walked out.

Christine was left with her face scrunched in disbelief, nose wrinkled, as her eyes clung to the sight of him until he disappeared altogether behind the door.

VI.

Liam didn’t return until the sun was low in the sky, ready to vanish beneath the horizon for the night. As far as Christine saw, he didn’t return with anything except a tattered leather journal. She wanted to scream at him for being so careless with his life. After all, what was she supposed to do without him if he died, or worse, was bit?

Before she could work up the nerve to tell him off, there was a knock at the front door. The sound seemed alien already, the last time she’d heard it having been when the Ramirens came begging for help a week ago. Christine hung back as Liam opened the door.

“Who wants some wine?” Zack bellowed as he held two bottles in the air. He barged in past Liam.

Behind him, Ralph and his family came in and looked around nervously, as if they expected one of the dead to jump out from the bathroom. Jerry sauntered in after with heavy footsteps followed by Luke Benson. Liam promptly closed the door behind them and locked everyone in.

Christine stared at the group from a distance. She’d never made an effort to get to know her neighbors and only knew Ralph and Luke from her birthday party, which seemed like it’d happened in an alternate universe many years ago, but as she counted in her head it had only been eight days. Jerry hadn’t been at the party, but since the night he gunned down the Goldsteins from his porch Christine made the effort to ask Liam all about him. She smiled at each of them, but didn’t say a word.

Everyone placed what they brought on the kitchen counter and grabbed paper plates to fill up. They used large water glasses to drink the wine out of, pouring it to the brim. Both bottles were drained dry before they all sat down on the couch, window seat, or floor.

Liam handed Christine a full glass of wine and kept one for himself. Neither felt much like eating after what they’d seen earlier, the horrors they’d witnessed their own little secrets to be kept. Christine wondered if Mr. Alexander was still roaming outside, eating whatever rats he stumbled across.

“Let’s get started.” Zack Kran said. He leaned his back against the couch.

“What’s going on?” Sally Sherman asked as she locked eyes with Christine to see if she’d been informed before her. “Why are we all here?”

“It’s the first official meeting of the zombie crew…zombie squad? Zombie corps?” Zack rambled off.

Everyone eyed him with tight lips.

“We’ll figure out a name later. What’s important right now is the rules.”

“Rules for what?” Christine asked with bite. She hated not knowing what was going on in her own house, with her own fiancé.

Liam cut in between them. “We need to keep this building safe if we’re going to stay here, or at least as long as we
can
stay here. We’ve successfully decontaminated the building this week, but more will come. The five of us,” he said, waving a hand towards the men in the room, “are going to work together to make sure our home stays
zombie
free.” He said zombie as if it were a made up word he’d just invented.

Christine didn’t say anything. She looked around the room with narrow eyes to judge whether they were joking or not, even though the image of Mr. Alexander eating the rat was still clear in her mind. They weren’t zombies. That was ridiculous. They were sick.

“The first rule, I think, should be that everyone retains their own living quarters,” Liam said to get the ball rolling.

“Me too,” Zack agreed right away.

“Yup,” Jerry mumbled through his food.

Luke looked to Sally. Their eyes both shared the same anxious glare.

Ralph moved his daughter, Lilly, from one arm to the other as she reached out for his plate of food. “Well if everyone is going to be separated, then we should meet in the mornings to make sure we all made it through the night and no one was attacked by one of those…whatever they are.”

“People,” Christine said in a steady voice. “They’re people.”

“These things aren’t people!” Zack responded wildly. “They don’t do anything but walk and eat! They don’t even feel anything.”

“How do you know they don’t feel anything? Did one of them tell you that?” Christine spat over her cup of wine.

Zack rolled his eyes. “’course not. They can’t talk. They can’t do anything but devour people whole and turn them into walking, eating, rotting corpses! Zombies!”

“That’s enough!” Liam yelled, standing to his feet. “We don’t need to be arguing amongst ourselves. We can all agree they’re dangerous and we’re better off without the lot of them. Can we get back to the rules, please?”

Everyone was quiet. They each skillfully avoided eye contact to stare down at their food or take interest in the framed art on the walls.

“Good. Right. We’ll meet every morning at eight on the third floor and work our way down. Now what’s next?” he said as he sat back down on the couch. He took a large gulp of dry white wine.

“How are you getting rid of these
people
,” Christine said as she eyed Zack.

“Good question,” Sally chimed in as she took Lilly from her husband’s arms. The baby squirmed to get loose, so she could watch her dad eat his food.

“Well, we, um, exterminated the threat,” Liam said in a wavering voice. “As of now they remain in their respective flats until we can decide what to do with them.”

“Let’s just pile them up in the park for now,” Zack said, taking the last bite of the vegetables on his paper plate before he tossed it aside.

“Like trash?” Christine said in a huff.

“Are you going to jump all over me every time I speak?”

Zack looked at Liam for support.

Christine did the same.

Liam took a deep breath. “Everyone’s opinion is valid here. We have to hear each other out and come up with a solution we can all agree on. This is everyone’s home.”

Respect was restored, at least for the moment.

“Only until we figure out if putting them in the ground will somehow spoil the dirt or whatever,” Zack said in a calm tone as he addressed everyone. “What if we want to grow food out there someday and their rotting infectious body juices seep into our crops or something?

Christine had to admit he made a good point, one which she hadn’t considered at all. But she’d never admit Zack was right after his callous take on the sick. She rested back against the couch and raised her glass to her mouth to fill the void from her lack of a comeback.

“Does anyone have a problem collecting the dead and placing them outside until we can come up with something better for them?” Liam asked, calling the rule to a vote.

Sally shrugged her shoulders. “So, does that mean we’re going to…put my mom with them?” she asked, forcing back the tears that crept up on her.

No one said anything. They all looked at her with soft, sorry expressions.

She tried to smile as the corners of her mouth turned up slightly and then fell back down to the frown she’d been wearing since she received the news about her mother. She nodded and then turned her attention back to her daughter, who was trying to pull the collar of her shirt into her mouth.

“Let’s move on,” Liam said. “We’ve got a meeting time, where we’ll live, and how we’ll dispose of the bodies. Is there anything else anyone would like to add?”

“Yeah,” Ralph said, looking at Jerry. “I think everyone should be responsible for getting their own supplies and food.”

Jerry snorted as he rested his fork back onto his plate.

“No, that’s a good one,” Zack said. “We need to help each other out, but I can see it getting ugly if we try to give each other stuff, playing favorites and what not.”

“But we can’t just go wandering about by ourselves,” Liam said.

“Then, we’ll go out in pairs. That way we’ll always have back up in case anything happens,” Ralph said nonchalantly, as if he were talking about going on a fun hunting trip together.

His wife looked at him like he was crazy. “If it’s that dangerous maybe we should all stay indoors.” she said, almost pleadingly.

“And what? Starve to death?” Zack said.

“He’s right, babe. We need food and supplies or we won’t survive. The baby still needs formula, diapers, and other…baby stuff.”

Several pairs of eyes drifted around to glare at the stacks of boxes piled up against the walls of the living room. Liam looked to Christine from the corner of his eyes.

“We don’t even know how long this is going to last,” Christine said, brushing it off. Now that her glass was empty, she had a new found confidence. “The National Guard could come tomorrow and take care of this whole thing.”

It was Zack’s turn to snort as he shook his head at the floor.

“What?” Christine demanded.

“Wake up, Chris. No one’s coming. This is it. This is life now. The sooner you get used to it, the better off you’ll be.”

“Whatever, Zack, like you know everything—” she started to say, but Liam stopped her from going any further with one look. She raised a hand in surrender and slumped back against the couch.