When The Light Goes Out (10 page)

My eyes popped open suddenly, and I stared up into a face that I didn't recognize at first. A moment more of reflective silence reminded me of his name. Malachi. I sighed, moving to get to my own feet. I didn't want to make his life any harder then it probably was. I didn't want to weigh him down.

I wanted to go back to sleep, honestly. But I knew that doing so wouldn't solve the problem. And there was, in fact, a new problem. A problem that went sort of like we weren't in the school anymore. In fact, there was a group of us walking down an empty alley. But the emptiness only seemed to make the groans of the undead echo. It brought me back to a chilling reality that I wanted no part of.

"Dammit." "Excel?" "Dammit!"

"What's"

"Dammit! Dammit!
Dammit!
I don't want this! I do not want any part of this!
Any
of it! I want to go
home!
Goddammit!
" I swung, and hit Malachi square in the middle of his chest, growing frustrated when he barely flinched. Was I that weak? Was he that strong? It just made me angry.

I wasn't quite bothered by the string of profanities that went flying from my mouth as I proceeded to hit the boy. Dead in the chest. In the freezing cold. Just wanting him to fall. To hurt. To show that I was doing something. Anything. I didn't care what. I just wanted a reaction, and I wasn't getting one. He was just looking at me. The icing on the cake was that he looked sympathetic. Sympathetic for the person who was effectively beating him up.

I didn't stop though. I raised my hands, and pushed him as hard as I could straight into the wall. Growing even angrier, even more frustrated when his expression didn't change. When he didn't look away from me. When he didn't get mad. The harder I started hitting, the more sympathetic he looked. Until, finally, he grabbed both of my wrists, and forced them to my sides. Effectively holding me still. Vulnerable.

I refused to cry. "Bastard"

"I'm not the one who just started beating you for no reason."

Even his voice was calm, which threw me into another fit of rage. I started squirming in his grip, not feeling the tiniest bit of guilt. My arms, however, were beginning to hurt with the way they were begin twisted in his grip. Not by his efforts mind you. He had very little to do with it. But I didn't care. I wanted to make him bleed, I realized with a certain level of disgust.

A level of disgust that made me stop struggling. It made me freeze in place, and avert my gaze. Dammit.

I was as bad as them.

"Are you better now? Did you get that all out of your system, or do we need to stand here like this longer? I can stand here all morning if I need to. It doesn't bother me at all

Excel." Malachi didn't raise his voice at all, which brought on the imminent guilt. "Look at me." "No."

"Why not?" "I'm sorry."

"Then look at me."

It took a long, cold moment for me to look up. But I did. And I stared straight at him when I did. I couldn't place his expression. Part of me wanted to believe that it was anger. But another part of me knew that it wasn't. I wanted to be mad again. But I found that I couldn't muster up the emotion. I found myself wondering why I was mad in the beginning. It wasn't as if Malachi made the zombies, or something. He was a victim, just like the rest of us.

"Where's Pixie?" "With Dustin." "Cathy?" "Same."

"Guys!" I looked up to see Ian peek around the corner. Staring at the two of us oddly, before he waved us over to him. "Come on! We need to get going. There's a bit of a congregation going on s'not safe. Malachi, if you're going to kiss Excel hurry the hell up. We don't have much time."

I didn't know whether to blush at the kissing bit or not, but I was sort of relieved that Malachi let me go. Sort of not relieved at the same time. That little bit of physical contact, however violent, dragged me back to reality. I made me realize that no, we weren't safe. Yes, we could die. And if I kept acting like a child, the chances were only that much more likely.

"Shall we, Excel."

I only nodded, finding that I couldn't do much else. But I walked obediently beside him. Exactly one step in front of him, with his hand pushing me towards Ian at a rather brisk pace. I would have much preferred running. But that didn't happened either. Because before I could pick up quite that much speed, we rounded the corner.

There, I froze in an all too familiar state of horror. "Oh my God."

The alley, I knew full well, led to a back street. Not frequented by foreigners. Not frequented by those of us who lived there either. One side of the street was blocked off by a fence, while the other led out onto what would normally be a rather busy sidewalk.

Nothing special there.

It was the other side of the fence that got me though.

I was surprised I hadn't heard the constant groans, and rattling of what sounded to be aluminum. I was surprised I hadn't heard any screams. Because right there, pushing up against the gate, was a frighteningly large group of the undead. Chewing on a bloody corpse. Outright fighting over it. Pulling, and dragging, and pushing.

Finally I noticed sobbing somewhere toward the other end of the alley. "Oh, Hell."

Had Pixie been the one to fall upon this? Crap.

"Come on, Malachi." "What?" "Something's up." "No.
Really?
"

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, kid." "Who're you calling kid?"

"Now is not the time you two!"

I looked over to see Dustin glaring holes into the two of us. Angry as hell, if I was any judge. He was cuddling the hunching form of what had to be Pixie. Suddenly, I was attacked by a whole new wave of guilt, and wanted to go pitch in a word of comfort. But the moment I took a step toward them, the gate creaked.

Not just any creak, mind you.

I knew the sound of a shifting gate, anyone who ever went to a school, with a school yard, had to know that sound. This wasn't it. It was more a sound of bending metal. I started to turn towards the group of zombies, but before I could even turn halfway, my arm was grabbed and I was more or less thrown at Dustin.

There was a look of utter terror on his face. "Run!"

I didn't know who yelled.

I wasn't entirely sure
why
they yelled.

But when there's a very large group of hungry zombies behind a flimsy little fence, and someone yells "run" like a madman, you do so. Without asking any questions. Without looking back. You just run like the devils on your heels with a flaming pitch fork, really bad body odor, with you down wind.

Dustin was leading the run, however only by a few steps. Ian was pretty damn close behind him, dragging me along by my arm. I could hear a bunch of people running behind me. But I didn't look back. I knew that if I took that chance, I'd end up flat on my face, and in everyone's way.

The fact that I knew some zombies were capable of running was the real winner. I didn't want to risk falling on my face if the bastards could catch up with me. Sure. Some of them wouldn't be able to run. But maybe, just maybe, some of them could. And I didn't want to be the lucky one to find out exactly which ones those were.

I wasn't so sure I could handle it.

"Where do we go?!" I demanded, as frantic as I'd ever been. I wanted to know what the plan was. I wanted to know where was safe. Never mind the fact that we left what we already knew was safe. Speaking of which, I wanted to know why we left the school. I wanted to know with an excruciating urgency. But it wasn't the time to ask.

"Anywhere!" Came the reply from Dustin. He was beginning to slow, and I didn't know whether to urge him faster, feel bad, or think that he was getting what he deserved. As far as

I knew, leaving to school was his idea. And he didn't know where to go. "Helpful."

"Hey, I don't live here, remember?" "Touche!"

"So, where does the nonforeigner think we should go?" "You're asking me?!"

"Is that what it sounds like?" "Sorta!"

"Then yes!" Great.

The state of our existence was officially on my shoulders. Where to go?

"There's a supply warehouse a couple blocks down!" "Warehouse, as in no windows?"

"Yeah!"

"Which way?!"

"That way!" I didn't realize the stupidity in my statement immediately, it actually took a backwards glare from Dustin to make me realize exactly what I'd done. I would have outright face palmed if it wasn't for the fact that Ian was still tugging me along.

"Hang a left across the street!" Ian explained the location for me. "I"ll tell you where to go from there."

"Why don't you take the lead?" Dustin's question came as a near shock to me. Rather the attitude he shoved into the few words did. "Yeah." Came from Ian, as he let go of my arm. "Why don't I?"

I watched him move forward, officially trying to keep myself on my feet. At least the boy knew which place I was talking about. I figured everyone would know where I was talking about, but they'd all stayed quiet. So maybe I was wrong. Regardless I figured the location would be very helpful. No windows. Bottled water, and various other liquids. Food. However the perishables would probably wind up rather unpleasant the longer they sat there.

Unless, of course, the warehouse still had the barbecues on display. That would have been a win.

I couldn't have guaranteed anything if I tried to though.

It didn't come as such a shock to me when gun shots rang somewhere in the distance. Where, I didn't exactly know. But the sound was becoming distressingly familiar. I hadn't even held a gun before the whole damned situation started. Never seen one so close up. Dammit. It wasn't fair.

Why did the zombies have to invade during my lifetime? What had I ever done?

Asking such questions, I figured, was pointless though. I mean, honestly, I'd never really get an answer. Nor did the answers really matter. The why didn't matter quite so much as the how. Even the how didn't matter as much as the mere fact that it was happening, and unless I could find a time machine, it would keep happening. Until of course a solution to the problem was found.

Question was, who was going to find the solution? Not me, I was quite positive.

Traveling somewhere in a pack of people, in a zombie infested city, made me feel just a little useless. I wasn't a fighter. Physically, mentally, or emotionally. It just wasn't my thing. I didn't want to hurt anyone. For my safety or otherwise, I didn't want to. I didn't like the thought of it. It didn't give me the sort of satisfaction I'd heard some guys talk about. It made me feel bad. I, apparently, sucked at decision making. I knew I sucked at directions barely knowing my left from my right half the time, let alone east from west.

It wasn't a good time to be living, I realized. But that didn't only apply to me. There were countless families, probably completely wiped out so long after the first reports started hitting the news. It was almost frightening, the way that it had literally only been 'yesterday.' You would expect it to take at least a couple weeks for the infection, the virus, the disease, to spread. But, the way it seemed, it only took a few hours.

Unless of course it was already in our systems. Maybe the water supply was poisoned.

Maybe the food.

I didn't know. I didn't really want to think about it. But with the thought officially in my head, I couldn't help it. I never quite realized exactly how susceptible we, as humans, would be if someone decided to mess with us. Just about anything could be slipped into the water supply, if one really thought about it. Just one person. Just
one
person, at the right place, at the right time, could potentially kill everyone.

Maybe the zombies were a new form of germ warfare. Maybe one of our neighboring countries decided that we needed to be offed already. People were always joking around about what could go wrong next. Maybe, just maybe, this was it. Maybe some sick bastard planned to kill, and reanimate everyone.

Everything?

There was, indeed, a rather rabid looking dog staring me down. Something was dripping from his mouth, shining in the scant light available with the sun just coming up. Maybe it was drool. Maybe it was water. I couldn't be sure. But, uncertainty told me that it might just be blood. In which case we had a whole new set of problems on our hands.

If animals could carry the infection, we were screwed.

It was rather surprising that I didn't trip as I stared at the fuzzy creature, sitting across the shadows across the street from us. It was even more shocking that I didn't scream holy murder when it got up, and started walking towards us. From far away, it looked sort of normal, given not all dogs drool like water faucets. But the closer it got, the more sure I was that something was terribly wrong.