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Authors: Victoria S. Hardy

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BOOK: Rotten
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She shrugged.  “I lock the front, and go in and out of the back.  The back door is in the alley, so I don’t worry about it.”

 

“We’re screwed,” I said.

 

“So you’re saying you don’t have a key for your own house?” Highland kicked the trash spilling out of a can.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”  Princess pulled her head up and looked us in the eye.  “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.  I don’t live with my parents.” She looked at Highland.  “I don’t have a trust fund.” She stared me down good.  “I don’t have rich parents supporting me because I’m a rock star in the making.” She poked Rotten in the chest.  “And I’m not friends with a couple dozen jocks who will make sure I am never homeless.” She tugged Moonshine’s hair.  “It’s just me folks, and this is what I have.  Quit your bitching and let’s move.  If you don’t want to go through the alley, we’ll break the window.  Move!”  Princess took the lead in platforms.

 

We encountered six more withered bodies drying in the bright morning sun on her street and Princess stared into the shadowed alley that ran beside the gallery and shook her head.  “Rotten, make yourself useful and bust this window,” she said.

 

The window was a good twelve feet high and eight feet wide.  Inside, perfect for window-shopping, were vintage clothes and jewelry, paintings, and a giant ceramic giraffe. “Break it.” She held her stomach, walking away.

 

It took five hits from Rotten’s metal pole to break the glass – five.  They sure don’t make things like they used to.  It shattered and Princess cringed.  “Whoever has the best weapon go first.”  She tilted her head, smiled, and held up her dented trashcan lid. 

 

“I got it,” Rotten said.

 

“Right behind you,” Moonshine said.

 

Highland stepped in behind them.

 

The glass crunched under our feet and we stepped down from the window display.  “I don’t see anything,” Moonshine said.

 

“Too much light in here,” Highland responded.

 

“My clothes are back there.” Princess pointed to a door behind a display case that held an old fashioned cash register.

 

“Of course they are,” Rotten said.  “Back in the darkest corner.”

 

“Shut up, dick.” Princess elbowed him in the ribs. 

 

Rotten looked us both up and down and sighed.  “They need clothes.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Moonshine agreed.

 

“Okay, who’s taking the lead,” Highland asked.

 

“I will,” Rotten said.  “Fuck, we didn’t watch enough cop movies!”  He laughed and grew serious.  “Okay.  Moon, I’ll go in first and to the left.  I’ll make sure there’s no meanies and you come and clear the right.  We take it slow.  Princess, do you have a flashlight?”

 

“Yeah, under the counter.”  She pointed to the cash register.

 

“Okay, I’ll grab that.  Highland, you come in behind us.  Shit, we need a gun!”

 

“I have a gun.”  Princess said.  “In there, in the closet.” 

 

“Cooking with fire now,” Moonshine whispered as we stepped closer to the door in the dark corner.  We moved forward, all except Sully, who sat on the edge of the display case picking up bits of glass, studying them, and then dropping them on the floor.  I remembered our plans from the nights we’d meet on the street corner and was impressed with how well we moved together until Princess reached over and switched on the lights.  We jumped. 

 

“What the hell, you scared the shit out of me!” I snapped.

 

“Shhh!”  She held her fingers to her lips and we heard groaning.  She hit a couple more switches and the groans grew louder.  “Hide!”  She ran to the front side of the counter and ducked.  I followed. 

 

The swinging door, separating the apartment from the gallery, flew open and a couple vampire/zombies ran for cover, narrowly missing the guys, only to burn up a few feet from Sully.  Yep, they hated the light.  Sully screamed, but truthfully, we had run out of patience with him. 

 

“What the hell, Princess?” Rotten pulled himself from the corner.  “You should have warned us!”  He stood up and straightened his shirt.

 

“Like I knew that would happen,” she said, rising from the front of the case, and adjusting the short skirt.  “Dove and I need clothes.” 

 

The guys led their way into Princess’s living space, which basically consisted of one large room, and quickly shut the back door.  Princess opened the curtain covering the closet entrance slowly and said,  “Get dressed, Dove,” after ensuring none of the undead were near her underwear. 

 

I did as I was told.  I kicked off the name brand but cheaply made cowboy boots and ditched the carefully fringed, tattered, and overly expensive shorts.  I pulled a pair of Levi’s off the shelf and shimmied into them as I looked for some shoes. 

 

“Here,” Princess said, handing me a pair sturdy boots.  “Thrift store, five bucks.  You owe me.”  She pulled on a pair of jeans, reached into a plastic bin and tossed me a pair of socks. 

 

“Thanks,” I said, changing quickly. 

 

She rattled some hangers, and tossed me a sweater.  “Cashmere, two bucks at Salvation Army, you owe me.”  She pulled on her own sweater and threw Highland a black t-shirt.  “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”  She pulled down a backpack, threw in extra clothes and we ran out of the closet three minutes after we ran in.

 

“The gun, Princess, don’t forget the gun,” Rotten said and Princess went back in the closet.  She came out and shoved a small leather bag in Rotten’s hands. 

 

“An ex gave it to me, I don’t know shit about guns,” she said and went to the mirror and pulled the pencil out of her hair. 

 

“I do,” Moonshine said and took the bag from Rotten.

 

I joined Princess at the mirror and pulled my hair up into a ponytail, she did too, but it was harder for her considering the dreadlocks and all. 

 

              Moonshine pulled the gun from the bag.  “It’s a .38 with a couple quick loaders, it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.  Who’s carrying?”

 

              “I’ll take it.”  Highland took it and stared down the barrel.  “It’ll do.”

 

“Are we ready?” I snapped the band around my hair.

 

“Yep,” Rotten said.

 

“Let’s rock.” Moonshine punched the wall.

 

“Hey, man, I know this is the apocalypse and all, but chill the hell out.  This is my house,” Princess said, but kept her eyes focused on the mirror and the difficulty of squirreling up four years of dreadlock growth.

 

“Sorry, P,” Moonshine said

 

“Let’s go.” Rotten moved to the door.

 

“What about Sully?”  Princess said.

 

“What about him?” Moonshine picked up his two by four.

 

“We can’t leave him studying pieces of glass in the gallery.” 

 

“If he ain’t coming, then he ain’t coming.  He knows where his car is.”

 

“We don’t need him, I can hot wire a car, an older car,” Highland said.

 

Princess and I looked at each other and shrugged, Highland was full of surprises. “We can’t just leave him here, we should at least help him to his car.” Princess pulled a baseball bat from behind her bed.

 

              “What?  Is he an invalid?  He can find his own way,” Rotten said.

 

She handed me a nine iron.  “We at least have to ask him one more time.”

 

“Really?” I said.  “A golf club?  You have a golf club?”

 

She shrugged.  “We’re ready.”

 

Highland went first with the gun, and Moonshine and Rotten followed, their weapons high in the air.  Princess and I took the rear with a bat and club.  We were ready to rumble, but all we encountered was Sully, crying over broken glass, and the two zombies who had melted away like the wicked witch from the west when she was doused with water. 

 

“Get the fuck up.” Moonshine grabbed the professor, and Rotten and Highland searched his pockets.

 

“Keys, I got keys.” Rotten held them up and smiled.

 

“Drugs, I got drugs.” Highland held up three prescription bottles.  “Let’s see, we got uppers, downers, and bone hardeners, if you get my meaning.  What the hell, professor, no wonder you’re hitting on chicks thirty years younger than you.”  He shook the bottles, smiled, and handed them back to Sully.

 

“You don’t know me,” Sully said.

 

“I do,” Princess said.  “And I know you’re a dick.  But I don’t want to see you dead.  Come with us if you want to live,” she said and laughed, realizing she had just quoted
The Terminator
.

 

“Ready?” Rotten looked at us.

 

I nodded.  “Let’s do it.”  

 

Moonshine crunched over broken glass, and peered up and down the street.  “You guys ready?  It’s clear.” 

 

“Go already, damn,” Princess sighed.

 

Moonshine jumped down to the sidewalk first and then Highland took the lead, we jogged out to the middle of the street with Sully lagging behind, but definitely following. We covered the blocks without incident and Highland turned on Broad Street.  We passed art galleries, coffee shops and tattoo studios, but we didn’t see a human or a zombie and headed toward Sully’s Escalade. 

 

“It’s yours, dude,” Rotten tossed him the keys when we reached it.

 

Sully caught them and looked stunned.  “What are you guys going to do?”

 

“We’ll find a ride, Sully,” Princess said.

 

Sully rubbed his head, the long hair that made him so attractive to young English students, and then he tugged at his beard.  “Damn it!” He declared and tossed the keys to Highland.  “I just don’t know.” 

 

Highland pushed a button, unlocking the doors, and climbed into the passenger seat.  “Moonshine, you drive.”  He slid a key into the ignition. 

 

“Hell, yeah!!” Moonshine slid into the cabin and adjusted the seat.  

 

Princess, Rotten, and I jumped into the back and Sully crawled in behind us, nearly kicking Rotten in the jaw as he slid into the rear space.

 

“Go, Moon,” Highland said.  “Time is short.”

 

Moonshine drove and I can not find the words to describe seeing the city with bodies littering the sidewalks and strange bags of multi-colored, smoldering waste scattered in the street, waste that we knew used to be human.  There are words, of course - horrible, stunning, devastating, earth-shattering, heart breaking, gut wrenching - but none of them truly express the shock and the fear.  But Moonshine drove.  We didn’t see people going off to work, although it was pushing 8am on a weekday, and we didn’t see people in the Waffle House or the Krispy Kreme.  No one was in the Starbucks on the corner of 12
th
and Broad when Moonshine took a hard left and hit the expressway that crossed the river.  No people were in the breakfast houses or coffee shops, but the sidewalks and parking lots outside of the buildings were littered with many burnt husks of what used to be people.

 

“There’s nobody,” Moonshine muttered.

 

“Nope, not that we can see,” I said. 

 

“There are still people alive, though, they’re just hiding,” Rotten said.

 

“How do you know?” Princess said.

 

“Because we’re still alive, we sure can’t be the only ones.”

 

“I think they’re all dead.  We’re all alone with the dead,” she insisted.

 

“No, not all,” Highland said.  “But most.  Most of them are dead.” 

 

“Shit,” Moonshine said, slowing as he entered the city limits of Freemont.  He passed the town hall where we could see the familiar burnt waste in front of the doors of the historic building, and then passed a body without a head outside of the newspaper office.  “Shitfire, we are so screwed,” he muttered, driving past the Baptist church.  The church owned most of a city block in the small town and as we drove past, I understood why Moonshine bitched. 

BOOK: Rotten
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