The Resurrected Compendium (28 page)

“Something does it, something gets inside them and kills them, or whatever, maybe they just die. But before they do…” She looked up at him. “They get really, really mean.”

Again, that noise. Something was moving, back there in the shadows, an aisle or two over. The sound was soft because it was sort of far away. Dennis shushed her, and Kelsey’s brows raised, but she went quiet. She pantomimed zipping her lips and tossing the key.

Dennis listened.

There it was again. A slow, shuffling scrape. An image came to him of something crawling, inching along by digging its fingers into the concrete and pulling. Crawling because it had no legs.

A shudder ran through him, but he took a deep breath to get rid of it as he aimed the shotgun. His finger slid over the trigger. He walked forward, but he couldn’t aim and walk at the same time, not without risking bumping into something or tripping. Kelsey followed him, her scooter whirring and covering up the noise.

“Stay here.”

“No way,” she said. “Not alone. You’re the guy with the gun, remember? I can’t even run away on my own, and this thing doesn’t roll fast enough.”

Dennis sighed. “Fine. But try to be more quiet.”

Kelsey said nothing, but the scooter still made too much noise. They rounded the corner and he swept the area with his aim. Nothing but a scattered pile of antacid medicines next to a few shelves of vitamin supplements. It wasn’t the first sign of destruction in here, he’d spotted a lot of stuff tossed around further back as soon as they came in. But it was a sign someone had been in here after the store officially closed, after there was anyone here to clean up the messes.

The noise had stopped, or he couldn’t hear it, even though he strained his ears. Dennis stood still. The gun aimed. He closed his eyes, giving up the benefit of sight to give his ears more of an edge.

Eight years old, in a tent in the backyard. It’s a campout. He’d like to have a friend there with him, that would make it a sleepover, but Denny doesn’t have any friends to ask. None whose mothers would allow them to sleep over at his house, anyway, much less in the back yard in a tent, right there on the edge of the woods where anything could lurk. And does, according to his mom.
 

Those other mothers are more afraid of that — what Denny’s mom says, rather than what might be in there. Lions, tigers, bears, oh my. The scorched earth circle his mom insists was left behind by something the government doesn’t want her to know about. She was talking about it at the drugstore today. Real loud. Everyone heard.

But Denny’s not scared to be out here in the back yard, even though it’s so dark he can’t hardly see a thing. No moon, no stars, no light. His mom’s gone to bed inside the house, or at least she turned out her light about an hour ago.

Denny has a flashlight, but he’s turned it off so he can go outside and look up at the sky. It’s just full of stuff up there, beyond the clouds and the darkness. Just out of sight. That’s what his mom says. There are things up there circling around the earth, keeping an eye on everything everyone does. Some of the things we put there, she says. We meaning the people like the president and stuff, not his mom, not Denny. Some of the stuff is just…up there.

What would it be like, he thinks, to go up into the stars? To look down at the earth from so far above it, so far the people don’t even look like ants. They don’t look like anything. Like the earth would be a giant blue marble for an alien to play with. Or God.
 

Denny’s mom says there’s no such thing as God, but Denny thinks she has to be wrong. Because if there’s no God, there can’t be a heaven, and then where do people go after they die? And they have to go somewhere, because they can’t all be floating around in the radio waves the way his mom says they do, and that’s why you have to turn the TV to the static channel every so often and try to listen to what they say.

Something shuffles in the long grass.

If Denny had a dog, or even a cat, he’d think nothing of a noise in the grass, but since he’s never been allowed to have a pet, that means whatever’s in the grass is something…not tame. And possibly not friendly. He hefts the flashlight in his hand, liking the weight of it.
 

When the black shape hurtles out of the dark toward him, Denny doesn’t think twice. He rolls onto his back, then his side, gets to his feet and swings the flashlight. Swings, misses. Swings again. This time he connects with the tall dark shape hard enough to crack the glass. Hard enough to make it stumble back with a grunt. When it hits the ground he’s on it, ready to smash its alien invader face, even if it has tentacles.
 

Instead, a hand comes up to hold him back. A voice says, “Good job, son! But next time, don’t give me the chance to even fight back. You should’ve been ready for me before I even attacked.”

It’s his mom, and she taught him all those things because she loves him.
 

That noise again. Shuffling and sly, slow. Scraping. Just beyond him, around the corner of the aisle.

Dennis moved, fast and silent, gun at the ready. Around the corner, leveled, aimed…

And blew apart a bird feasting from a spilled package of cereal.

Feathers flew. Blood spattered. There wasn’t much left after that, and Dennis let the gun slowly fall to his side. From behind him, he heard the whirr of the scooter.

“Well,” Kelsey said. “That’s one way to do it.”

32

Kelsey felt better with some water and food, her foot cleaned and bandaged and a first dose of antibiotics inside her. Her wrist, as it turned out, was only sprained and not broken. Wrapped in a tight bandage, she could even use it a little. She sipped now from a full-strength cola, relishing the sweetness and the bubbles and the caffeine.

“How long until all this stuff disappears?” She lifted the can toward Dennis, who was busy stacking oversized bags of basmati rice on one of the big pallet carts.

He looked over his shoulder, bared in a sleeveless flannel shirt, at her. “Depends on how many people are gonna eat it.”

“No. I mean…” She waved the can around, feeling light-headed and floaty. Sort of drunk. “All of this. Stuff. That’s made. By people.”

Dennis straightened. After blowing up the bird he’d done a complete circuit of the store, making sure there was nothing else in there. No surprises. This time, he’d insisted she stay behind, locking her in the pharmacy to keep her “safe.”

She was half in love with this guy.

Now he was loading up his fourth pallet cart. The other three, loaded high with boxes, bags and cartons, waited at the front entrance. He’d been working for a couple hours, working methodically down each aisle while she followed and watched.

“You talk like it’s the end of the world,” he said.

“Isn’t it?” She watched his muscles work as he hefted another twenty pound bag of rice onto the cart.
 

Dennis gave her half a smile. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Just seems like it, maybe.”

“The government was all over the over the place where I came from. But here, there’s hardly any sign of them. I think they gave up trying to keep it under control.” Kelsey sipped her cola and concentrated on making sense. She was still so tired. “I think they’re going to let us be overrun by…them.”

Dennis put another sack on the cart, then paused to swipe his hand across his forehead. He held out a hand for her can, and she handed it to him. He drank it to empty, then carefully put the can on the shelf. He could’ve as easily tossed it onto the ground, but his consideration impressed her.

“We’re not overrun. There’s lots of people still okay. You and me, for example.”

“Yeah?” She challenged. “Where are they?”

Another of those half-grins sent her stomach tumbling. He was charming, wasn’t trying to be, and didn’t know it, and that made him all the more attractive. Or maybe it was the drugs. Or the fact he’d saved her ass more than once already. Or that he knew how to handle a gun…

“They all got the hell out of town, that’s where they are.”

“But the ones who’re left…”

“Like I said,” Dennis told her, “you and me are okay. I’m sure others are, too. Which is why I need to get this stuff loaded up as soon as I can.”

She eyed the stack of rice. The other carts contained more dry goods, already enough to feed a hundred people for weeks. “When you said you were stocking up, you weren’t kidding.”

“Got to take it all, as much as I can. Don’t want to come back here if I don’t have to.” Dennis paused to swipe at the sweat again. He cracked his back.

“Because of those dead things?”

He shook his head and said hesitantly, “no. Not because of them. Because of the live ones.”

“But those zombies, those living dead —”

“They don’t eat. Least not food, that I can see. People who are alive, though. They’ll be wanting this stuff, and when people want stuff, they’ll do just about anything to get it.”

“And you don’t intend for them to get it.”

He looked at her assessingly. “That’s right.”

“Not much for sharing?”

He shook his head slowly, eyes cutting away from her gaze at the last second. “It’s not that. Just trying to survive, that’s all. The more I get now, the longer it will be before I have to come back. That means the safer I’ll be. I’m into surviving, that’s all.”

She understood that feeling very well. “Me too.” She wheeled a little closer. “You’ll take me with you.”

She’d deliberately made sure it was not a question. Dennis didn’t look surprised, but he did look a little guilty. He put another bag of rice on the cart. He straightened and blew out a breath.
 

“You will,” Kelsey said. “You’re too nice a guy to leave me out here alone. Injured.”

With a hot shower and some makeup she’d have been able to work magic, but instead she’d have to work with what she had. The clothes helped. They were dirty and probably smelling bad, but they were tight and torn and they clung to her in all the right places, revealing just the right amount of flesh.
 

She stood. She didn’t need to exaggerate her limp. Every step was still painful, though less now that her foot was properly bound. She did let her hips sway more than they might’ve otherwise, and she did dip her chin so she could let her gaze tilt up toward his. She bit her lower lip.
 

“You have to take me with you, Dennis. You have to. I promise you, I’ll —”

“You don’t gotta promise me nothin’,” he said, then hastily corrected himself. “Anything. You don’t have to promise me anything.”

“What if I want to?” The words slipped out of her a little lower than she’d intended. A little more slurred. When she wobbled a little and reached for him to steady her, there was no guile in the effort. Her fingers touched his warm skin and the softness of flannel.
 

She tipped her head back a little. Waiting. For nothing, as it turned out, which was exactly what he said she didn’t have to promise him.

Dennis put a swift distance between them, leaving her to stumble. “I have to get this stuff loaded into the truck. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Are you scared of the dark, Dennis?”

“No.” He paused. “But it’s harder to see them coming in the dark.”

“I can help you.” She followed him, limping, as he started pushing the cart toward the entrance. “Dennis. Wait. I can help you! I really can! I’m not useless!” The words shot out of her, too loud. Echoing.
 

At last, he turned. “I never said you were.”

“You’re thinking it.” Kelsey lifted her chin, her voice raw but sharp, no longer slurred. “I can tell.”

He looked at her foot, the scooter, then her face. “You’re not useless, Kelsey. But you’re not in any condition to be much help. I can do this faster without you.”

“I can be a lookout, then. And I can shoot a gun.” This was only half a lie; she’d shot a gun a few times with Tyler. Missed the targets. Nothing made her think she had any chance of hitting one of those things that had once been people…but everything made her desperate for him not to leave her behind.

Dennis sighed, shoulders slumping for a moment. He shook his head a little as he turned back to the cart. “You can come with me. Don’t worry about it. Just stay out of the way, okay? I need to get this truck loaded up.” He didn’t look back, didn’t even turn his face over his shoulder. He sounded a little out of breath, but Kelsey didn’t flatter herself that it was because of her.

It had been a long time since a man had turned her down, especially when she was offering herself without subtlety, but it hadn’t been so long that she couldn’t remember how it had been. Before the surgeries and the hair, the teeth, the clothes. Back when she’d first changed her name but was still more a Kathy than a Kelsey. Oh yeah, she remembered being rejected all right, and if anything it felt worse now than it ever had because she’d ignored all the signs he wasn’t interested and pursued it anyway.

Without another word, she got back on the scooter and followed him as he pushed the cart to the entrance. She sat in silence, watching as he loaded another five carts with rice and beans and noodles, cans of soup and nacho cheese and cartons of yeast and salt and bottles of water. She watched him sweat and strain, the muscles in his arms and neck cording, until she had to look away.
 

Finally, when it was just dark enough that the lights in the parking lot came on, he was done. He’d loaded all the carts directly into the truck. He took the bottle of water she handed him and poured most of it over his face before drinking the rest. His throat worked. His skin gleamed, the water sluicing through the grime and leaving tracks she wanted to trace with her fingers. He crumpled the bottle but didn’t toss it to the ground. He put it in the recycling can, then stretched, crackling all his joints.

“Why are the lights in the parking lot on?” Kelsey pointed. It was the first she’d spoken in the past hour or so. “But not the ones inside?”

Dennis shrugged. “Not sure.”

She stood, wondering if he meant to take her with him the way he’d said or if he’d just get in the truck and drive away. If he’d want her to put the scooter in the back of the truck, or if she’d need it again. She tested her foot gingerly. Still painful. But she couldn’t ride around on the scooter forever.