Evolution of the Dead (19 page)

“Shut up.”

They’re going to laugh at you, just like John does when you go on your stupid rants about knowing what is going to happen in the future.  He laughs at you behind your back when he goes out with his friends.  He says you’re a good lay, but you talk some fucked up shit.

“Please stop,” Carmen cried.

You could have saved him, you know.  He was right there beside you when you saw the cab.  You should have run away with him.  Instead, he laughed at you.  He told you that you were being silly.

“But it’s not
silly
,” Carmen wept.

Oh it’s not your fault.  But Daddy and Mommy laughed at you, too.

“They did not.”

And Carly.

Carmen blinked up at the stars.  She stopped crying.  She got up on an elbow.  “I don’t want to talk about her.”

Why don’t you want to talk about your twin sister? Don’t you remember, you could have saved her?
You
saw
the mailman coming.  The same day it happened.  The same morning.  But Daddy laughed, said you were being silly.  Said you were just having a hallucination.

Carmen thumped back down on the grass.  Her underwear were spotting.

And after the mailman ran over Carly, what did Mommy say?

Carmen didn’t say anything.

It wasn’t your fault, darling.  And then later, after the policemen left, what did Mommy say? You could have
saved
her, honey.  She was your twin sister.  You should have watched out for her.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Carmen cried, anger building in her chest.

No.  Of course it wasn’t.  How could it be? You were only five years
old
.  It doesn’t matter that you were jealous of her though, now does it? It doesn’t matter that she was the favorite twin, does it? She always got all the nicer gifts.  More hugs from Daddy.  More kisses from Mommy.

Carmen closed her eyes.

You pushed her out in front of the mail truck, didn’t you?

“Shut up!”

Didn’t you?

“SHUT UP!”

She jumped.

It wasn’t far enough.  Her shoes slipped on the vomit.  She fell backward, instinctively putting her hands behind her to stop her fall.

Still holding onto the rope, Scott leaned forward.  He was able to grab her by the front of her pants before she slipped into the sickness.

He yanked her up into his arms.

Quickly they ran up the jet way.

With her good leg shaking, Carmen was standing again.  “I need to get going,” she said.  “I don’t want to die out here on the runway.”

Blood was running down her leg.

The sun was now down below the horizon.  Darkness was rolling in fast.

She was standing on the edge of the grass.  The concrete sat in front of her like sharp points of broken glass.  She didn’t want to step on it.

It’s gonna hurt so bad.

But I’ve got to.

I
must
.

She lifted her broken foot, gently setting it on the concrete.  Putting all of her weight on it caused crushing splintering pain to fire up her leg.  Grimacing, she stepped onto the tarmac.

“That’s one.”

Slowly, meticulously, Carmen walked across the long empty dark tarmac of the airport.

Trying to keep her mind off the raging pain, she ran her eyes along the outline of the airport against the starry sky.  It was black against the stars.

She was now crossing stand-by runway number two.  It was a secondary runway where planes would taxi to hangars surrounding the airport.

She was not on the main runway yet.

She still had to cross the stand-by runway, a secondary landing runway and then the main runway.  After that, she would have to walk across a large paved area where planes would taxi to their gates.  Then, hopefully, she would be able to get into the airport.

She turned around, looking back at the hangars.  She was closer to them than the airport.

“I’m not getting anywhere,” she said, resigned.  “This walk has killed me.”

Like you killed your sister.

She grimaced.  She’d heard about enough of that for the day. 
“
I’ve heard enough for my
lifetime
,”
she muttered.  “Come on Mom, how about laying off for a while.”

Twenty feet away, the ground made a wet squishing noise.

Out in the darkness, strands of blood were rising up out of the wet earth.  Each hovered in mid-air for different lengths of time; then popped.  Blood flew outward.  Wherever the blood landed, more strands rose up into the dripping air.

The infestation was advancing across the grassy runway area coming toward her like sprinklers popping out of the ground.  Behind them, further away, the dead approached slowly, ripping apart their own bodies, throwing their arms, chunks of flesh, trying to hit her.  Worms sprouted out of their skin and shot down to the ground, gripping the soil, pulling the body along faster.

Quickly turning her head toward the sound, Carmen’s mouth dropped open.  “Oh shit!”

Limping badly, blood running down her leg, she awkwardly ran, stumbling across the grass back toward the middle hangar.

After what seemed to last an eternity, she finally made it to the door.

Remember what I said earlier about the man in the bathroom? He’s
waiting
for you.

“Would you please leave me
alone?”

She threw the door open.  Hobbling inside, she skirted around the tall desk right inside the door.  Out of breath, she fell down onto a couch.

Her foot felt like a bloody stump.

Outside, strands of blood followed the trail of drips that had run down her leg.  The blood rose and fell, chasing her, popping like synched water fountains through the grass.

The hangar was quiet.

The door to the restroom was still closed.

A strange clicking noise came to her ears.  She sat up quickly on the couch.

The hell is that noise?

It was coming from the door she had just come through.  Leaning over, she looked toward the door.

The door handle was moving.

Someone was trying to get in!

“But it was just
me
out there,” she whispered to herself.  “No one else was
with
me.  There weren’t any other people! Who can it be?”

The dead ones.  They’re after you.  They’re going to fall on you.  They’re going to make you one of their own.

She yelled, “But they can’t be coming through the door! They’re dead! Dead people can’t turn door handles!”

It’s evolution, darling.

“This has to be a dream,” Carmen said calmly in her mind.  “It can’t be real! It can’t be!”

She hit her forehead with the palm of her hand.  Hard.  “Wake up, Carmen.  Damnit.”

The door banged open.  A dead airplane pilot wearing a vomit covered flight suit stepped through the door.  Behind him, others followed, their hollowed out eyes staring at her.  Vomit dribbled from all of their mouths.  Worms dangled on their skin.  The dead wobbled toward her.

The pilot spat a large glob toward her.  She ducked down onto the couch.  Sliding down further, she grimaced putting her weight back down on her foot.

The stairs!

Hobbling badly, cussing, she crossed the cement floor of the hangar
.

“
God, wake up! If you’re dreaming, wake up!”

She grabbed the rail of the stairwell as the pilot started sauntering toward her.  More of the dead began pouring into the hangar, their faces yellow, bloody, sunken-in.

“This is going to hurt,” she cried as she mounted the stairs.  She held onto the rail, pushing with her chest, keeping the weight off her broken foot as much as she could.  She literally crawled up the steps, banging her exposed shins on the metal stairs.  At the top, she limped into the office, her hand on her left knee, bracing her foot against the reeling pain. She clumsily slid the file cabinets in front of the door hoping they wouldn’t teeter over.

Her hand scraped along the edge of a piece of paper taped to the side of the file cabinet.  Someone had taped it there – years ago.  A handwritten list was scrawled on it:

Store List

Petroleum Jelly

Cotton Swabs

Popsicle Sticks

Plastic Bags

Beneath it:
  Don’t forget to pick up Greg’s depression medication.

Carmen whispered, “Depression medication!” Her mouth dropped open, her eyes widened.  “I forgot to take my medicine!”

In a loud booming voice, Carmen’s doctor’s voice rose above everything else, overcoming her surroundings.  The room was forgotten.  The dead crawling up the stairs after her were shoved out of her mind.

You must take this medicine
every single day
, young lady.  It will help you get through your swings of depression.  I know the loss of your twin sister weighs heavily on your mind.  You
must
take it.  You cannot miss a dose.  If you do, you will have hallucinations!

“I’ve missed taking my medicine for two fucking days,” she whispered, falling down on the bed.  She was out of breath.  “I’ve been hallucinating all of this! Is any of this even
real
?”

She listened.

It was quiet.

Of course it’s real, darling.  I’m real too.  I’m your motherly reminder.  I’ll keep harping on you until you take your medicine.

Why do you think everyone has been so concerned about you taking some
pills
for your pain? It isn’t about the pain darling.  It has been your subconscious telling you that you need to take your medicine.

Swallowing, she stood up, ignoring the rocketing pain in her foot.  She walked over to the file cabinets.

She peeked her head around them.

“
Am I really here
?”

The peeling yellow face of a woman with no eyes shoved herself at Carmen.  The woman opened her gagging mouth.  Inside, all of her teeth had fallen out.  Worms swam, clogging her swollen throat.  She was preparing to spit.

Carmen dodged out of the way.  Spit started flying over the file cabinets.  The cabinets shook as the dead pushed against them.

Looking around for any escape, Carmen considered the dusty windows.  With no other immediate option, she picked up one of the chairs at the end of the bed, stepped onto the bed, and threw the chair at the window. Glass shattered.  Pulling a crumpled blanket off the bed she quickly cleaned the broken glass out of the frame of the window.

“Yeah, this is
real
,” she breathed.

Take your medicine!

It was a long drop down to the ground.

“Fuck,” she whispered.  “Another jump?”

The file cabinets were knocked over.  Dead people stepped over them.

Closing her eyes, holding her breath, she jumped sideways out of the window. Her intentions were to land on her good foot, but of course it didn’t happen.  All of her weight came down on her broken foot.  She screamed in pain, falling onto her side.  She ended up leaning against the hangar next to the one she had just jumped out of.

Her vision swam.  She leaned against the wall, clenching her teeth and her fists.  The pain was too much to bare.

Suddenly, a door opened behind her.

Someone with strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her inside.

They ran up the jet way hand-in-hand.  They hoped the inside of the terminal would be safe, or at least safer than outside; or cleaner and not full of puking spitting dead people.

The door leading into the terminal from the jet way was locked.  Scott peered through a small window in the door.

The inside of the terminal was dark.  There were no lights.  Even the emergency lighting was off.

Still, Scott could see people moving about.

They were the shuffling dead.

Suddenly, a bloody hand slapped against the other side of the window.  It left streaks on the glass.

Kim jerked back, scared.

“It’s a dead end,” Scott said.  “It’s no better in there than out here.  We’re so screwed.”

Kim asked, “What can we do now?”

Scott slowly shook his head.  “Nothing.  Not a damn thing.”

She tried to wrestle away from the person pulling her into the hangar but their grip was too strong and she was in too much pain to put up a fight.  She was dragged over to a couch and gently lifted onto it.  The person ran back over to the door, locked it, and shoved something in front of it.

Carmen closed her eyes.

The person came back.  They stood over her for a second.  They sat down next to her on the couch.

“I’m Mike.”

“Carmen,” she whispered without opening her eyes.

“I was about to leave.  I’ve got a truck out back.”

Carmen didn’t say anything.  Her leg felt like it had been crushed by a ten ton boulder.

“I’m leaving,” he said.  “They said on the radio that they’re going to burn the city.  They’ve got it contained on the outside, but in here, it’s out of control.”

Carmen opened her eyes.  “Please, take me with you.”

He was in his mid to late thirties.  His hair was brown and messy.  He had a short beard which was graying on the edges.  His bottom teeth were crooked.

“Alright,” he said.  His breath smelled of cigarettes.

She grabbed him on the arm.  “Do you have anything for pain? My foot is
killing
me.”

“Yeah, hold on.”  He started digging through a large duffel bag next to the couch.  “All I have is Tylenol.”

“That’s fine,” she said.

“I got some bottled water in the truck.”

“Perfect.  That would be great.”

He reached for her hand as he stood.  “Come on, we gotta get out of here.”

This can’t be real
, she thought. 
No one is ever this nice to a complete stranger.  Especially not to me.  Especially not now.

Convincing herself that this was not a hallucination, she asked, “You wouldn’t have any
Pamprin
in your bag, would you?”

He chuckled, “No, sorry.”

Relieved that he didn’t have any, she said, “I could really use the restroom.  Do you mind?”

He pulled her up onto her good foot.  Hopping, limping, he led her over to the women’s restroom.

He asked, “You ok from here?”

“Yeah, I got it.  Thanks.”

He pushed the door open for her.

Inside, she hopped into a stall.  Sitting down, she unrolled some toilet paper.  She wiped her face, holding it against her skin.  Her panties and legs were soaked in streaks of blood.

Damnit, why did I forget my medication,
she thought
.  All these voices, scaring me, pushing me, badgering me.  It’s all been in my mind!

She left the stall.  At the sinks, she turned on the water and used hand towels to wash her face and her legs.  She took off her panties.  She washed the blood out of them with hot water, squeezed them out, and put them back on.

Back outside, Mike had some folded clothes in his hands.  He said, “Some friends of mine kept extra clothes here in case we got dirty when we worked.  Maybe some of these will fit.”

A pair of sweats were a little big on her.  Still, they felt very nice against her bare legs.

“Are you always this nice to complete strangers?” she asked him as he helped her hop across the floor to the exit.

“No,” he said.  “But you looked like you needed a break.”

“I did,” she smiled.  “Thanks.”

“Let’s go then.”

They left the hangar.

Outside, Mike lifted Carmen into the front seat of his white Jeep Wrangler.

He got in.  Reaching into the back seat he pulled out a bottle of water.  “Here you go,” he said.

She swallowed six Tylenol.  “Thank you.”

The inside of the truck smelled like gasoline.  Carmen wrinkled her nose, “Phew, it’s strong in here.”

“Yeah sorry about the smell,” he said backing up.  “I have some extra gas cans in the back in case I need to burn my way through the dead.”

“They burn like leaves,” she said.

“I know.”

He yelled, “Oh shit!”

Part of the group of the dead that had followed Carmen came around the side of hangar
B
.  It was hard to see them in the darkness.  They began to spit toward the truck.

She screamed, “Go!”

Squealing the tires on his truck, Mike and Carmen left the hangars.

“We won’t be able to make that jump back across,” Scott said shaking his head, his hands on his hips.  “Plus, it’s too dark.  We wouldn’t be able to see even if we
tried
to jump.”

“I’ve got my pen light,” Kim said with a quirky smile.

“You and your penlight,” he said.

“It helps,” she said with a shrug.

He looked at her with his head cocked.

“My husband liked to lock me out of the house at night.  It was a sick thing he did.  He’d make me take the trash out and then he’d lock the door.  He wouldn’t let me back in.”

“Guy sounds like a
real
winner,” Scott said with a crooked smile.  “Why would a woman like you want to stay with such an ass?”

“I don’t know why I stayed with him.”

“Sometimes people just get stuck in situations,” he suggested.

She nodded.  “So I kept the light.  I don’t know if it’s a good luck charm, maybe a form of security.  I kept an extra house key outside, so whenever he locked me out in the dark, I’d use my light, get my key, and go back in the house.”

“I would’ve left.”

“I couldn’t.  He’d find me.  Wherever I went, he would chase me down, bring me back home, and beat me.”

“You never called the cops?”

“
He. 
Was a cop.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Scott noticed lights moving across the runway.  Had a plane landed?

No, it was a car speeding away from the hangars across the way.

“Kim! Shine your light at that car!”

Quickly, she pulled it out of her pocket.  She clicked it on.  She started to madly swipe it back and forth in the car’s direction.

“I hope they see it,” Scott shouted.  “Hey over here!”

“There’s a light,” Carmen said.  “Over by the airport.”

“What? Where?”

“It’s, I don’t know, by the terminal over there.  By that crooked plane.”

“Where? Oh ok, I see it.”

“Should we help them?”

Mike asked, “I don’t think it’s the dead people, is it? They wouldn’t know how to contact someone that way, would they?”

“No.”

“They seem pretty desperate.”

“Let’s go help them.  Want to?”

“Ok.”

Mike drove toward the shining light.

“They see us!” Kim cried.  “They’re coming this way!”

Scott hugged her.

Suddenly, the ground around them started to make wet squishy sounds.  Spurts of blood started to shoot up out between the cracks in the concrete.

“Get back!” Scott yelled.

He grabbed her hand.  They ran up the jet way.

“Oh man, the ground is covered in shit,” Mike said as he slowed the truck.  “We’ll have to burn all of this to get to them.”

“How long will that take?”

“Longer than we have.”

“How long
do
we have?”

“I really don’t know.”

Carmen said, “Let’s try to help them.”

Mike jumped out of the truck.  He opened the back hatch, grabbed a can of gasoline, and poured it out on the concrete close to the edge of the boiling sickness.

Backing up, he lit a match and threw it on the gas.  Immediately, fire lashed up into the sky.  It lit the edge of the vomit.  It burned through it like peeling edges of paper.

Scott grabbed Kim.  “They’re burning it.  They’re burning it away.”

She hugged him.  “We’re saved!”

It took less than 10 minutes for the vomit on the ground to burn away.  The dead in the crooked plane stepped away from the fire as it burned below.

Mike drove over to the jet way.

Scott and Kim ran down to the truck.

Scott opened the front passenger side door to get in.  Kim opened the door behind.

Carmen and Scott’s eyes met.

Together, they both said, “Oh shit.”

Leaving the airport, swerving around over-turned jet ways, dodging parked ground vehicles, Mike Owens sped away from the approaching evolving dead.

Scott, Kim and Carmen were not talking.

“I sense there’s some bad blood between you three,” Mike said, breaking the silence.  “Do you
know
each other?”

“We knew
of
each other,” Carmen said, her arms folded, her brow furrowed.

Kim started, “Carmen, I…”

“Just keep quiet,” Scott said.

Kim looked at her hands in her lap.

“You’re a son of a bitch,” Carmen said to Scott.  “How could you leave me like that?”

He didn’t say anything.

“I wanted to bring you along,” Kim said.

“Yeah.  Sure you did.”

“I did! He’s the one who said we should leave you behind.”

“Oh, you do everything he says now? Is he your master? Just because you two fucked doesn’t mean he owns you now, Kim.”

“Fuck you.  I know that, Carmen.”

“Then why didn’t you stand up for me? You know I have a broken foot.”

She didn’t answer.

Mike said, “Ok.  So what happened here?”

Carmen told him about Scott and Kim leaving her after Scott’s dad and sister died.

“I’m sorry about your loss,” he told Scott.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.  By the way, I’m Mike Owens.”

“I’m Scott Olson and she’s Kim Schlaegel.”

“Hello,” Kim said quietly.

Carmen said angrily, “We should have left them behind like they did to me, Mike.”

Scott said, “Hey we’re here, alright, so don’t talk like we’re not.”

“I just can’t believe you
left
me there! Did you know that I had to walk half-way across the runway with my broken foot? I was chasing you guys.  I didn’t want to be left alone.”

“I told you to stay there.”

“I couldn’t.”

Kim asked, “Did the guy from the bathroom come out?”

“No.”

Scott asked, “Stacy didn’t come out, did she?”

“No, but both of them would have.  The things evolved.  They learned how to turn door handles.”

“They did not,” Scott disagreed.

“Yes, they did! They chased me back into the fucking hangar! I had to climb the steps and they followed me up those, too! Only way I got out of there was by breaking a window and jumping out.”

Kim asked, alarmed, “From the second story window?”

“Yes! If it wasn’t for Mike, I would be dead now.  He saved me.”

“Damn Carmen,” Scott said.  “I didn’t know.”

“No.  You didn’t care! You were a selfish pig just like Nick was.  You couldn’t handle helping me.  You thought it would be easier just to sacrifice me and leave me behind.”

Kim had her head in her hands.  She was crying.

“Pretty fucked up, dude,” Mike said.

“It was
very
fucked up,” Carmen agreed.

“I was overcome with grief,” Scott finally said.

“That’s still no excuse for doing to me what you did.”

“You don’t know how close I was to my dad and sister…and to lose them both…at the same time…I was destroyed, Carmen.  I lost everything dear to me in my life.  I don’t have a wife.  I don’t have any kids.  My dad and sister were my support.  They were my heart…”  He broke down crying.