Undead Ally
Issue #8
by Tom Zjaba
Chapter Eight
Dead Silent
Trish enjoys her first taste of roast goose. Fred did all the
cooking, including plucking the bird and then cooking it over an open fire. They
used some of the firewood found behind the cabin to start a fire in the
fireplace. It took a few hours to cook it thoroughly, but it was worth it. "I
never thought I would eat meat that didn't come from a can." she says as she
rips a piece off the breast and eats it. "It is good to eat something other than
Spam." he says as he gnaws on one of the legs. "Too bad we don't have a freezer
to put the leftovers in. I hate to see this go to waste." Fred looks at how much
meat is still on the goose, despite the two of them doing their best to clean it
to the bone. "Yeah, but without a smokehouse, we have no choice. I guess the
raccoons and other scavengers will eat good tonight." She smiles as she thinks
about how some animal will eat it. "The one thing this meal is missing is some
potatoes." she says as she grabs another piece. Fred takes a drink from his
water bottle and nods in agreement. "Next time I am in a town, I will have to
see if I can find a place with some seeds. Maybe we can start a garden out
back."
The undead bride and groom make their way through the woods.
They are nearing the lake and have been joined by an undead priest and two
undead alter boys, . The five of them lumber their way through the dark forest,
bumping into branches as they move. The undead are slow and clumsy, often
tripping on roots and other obstacles on the ground. They tend to look forward
and not down or up, which causes all kinds of mishaps. But they are resistant as
they always get back up and continue on. They do not suffer from fatigue and do
not feel any pain.
As darkness falls on the lake, the two of them retire for the
night. There is two dead bolts on the front door that Fred secures. As he looks
at the front window with the glass, he thinks how some steel bars would look
nice. Maybe not as a fashion, but the sense of security they would give would be
worth it. He looks over at Trish and says "You probably want to sleep upstairs."
She smiles at him and sips her cup of coffee. They found an old steel coffee pot
and some instant coffee. It is a little stale, but it is hot and that is a
luxury in its own right. "Are you sleeping down here?" He looks at the fire that
is still going in the fireplace and says "I will enjoy the fire for a little bit
and then keep guard." A sad look comes over her face. "I really feel bad having
you always stand guard." Stoking the fire with a long branch, he responds "As I
told you before, I don't sleep." Rising from the couch, she clutches the cup and
asks "Never? Have you tried?" With the coals glowing red, he feels secure the
fire will last and he pulls the stick from the fire. The end smolders a little
with wisps of smoke rising from the glowing end. "I never feel tired, plus I
fear if I close my eyes, they will never open again." This really makes her
frown. "That is so sad." she says as she takes another sip of her coffee. "This
whole death thing still freaks me out. I am dead, but I still live. While it is
not as good an existence as I had while I was living, it is all I have." Not
sure what to say to that, she smiles and says "Goodnight." She then heads
upstairs to her bed, which is a bit dusty and needs the linens washed, but
otherwise is very comfortable.
Staring at the fire, Fred thinks about when he was alive. How
much he loved riding his motorcycle with no helmet. Feeling the wind through his
hair and riding with his buddies down the highway. They lived for their road
trips. One year out to Sturgis, another to Daytona Beach. They went to big
rallies and hit the small towns. One year, they went to as many minor league
baseball games as they could. Their goal was twenty games in a month. They
missed it by one game, due to a rainout. But it was fun. He never thought he
would be the last one alive out of the group, if you can call this being alive.
The wind begins to kick up. He can hear it howling outside as
it rustles through the trees. He moves the chair closer to the fire and throws
another log on it. The smart thing to do would be to put out the fire as it
could draw someone to the cabin. But he enjoys the feel of the heat. While he
does not get cold like he did when he was alive, the warmth of the fire is still
comforting to him. And so is the cup of coffee. He sips it, enjoying the taste.
What he would give for a cappuccino machine. Not that there is any milk or cream
he could use. How he would love one or a flavored coffee. Some cinnamon or maybe
a hint of vanilla. Next time they are in town, he will make sure to keep an eye
out for some.
Outside, the undead have made their way to the lake and are
walking along the edge. There is still five undead in the group. As the two boys
walk near the lake, they keep walking over and splashing in the water's edge.
Over and over, they sway out into the water a few steps and then head back to
shore. They are making allot of noise, which is scaring the ducks and geese into
the water and towards the middle of the lake. Fred hears a faint sound of
splashing as he sits by the fire. Unsure what it is, he gets up from the fire
and grabs a rifle. Walking over to the window, he hears it again. He also hears
the telltale sign of the undead, the groaning. "Is there nowhere we can hide
from them?" he says as he checks to make sure the gun is loaded. "I better take
care of them. If I do this right, then maybe I won't wake up Trish." He grabs a
lantern off the table and lights it with a match. Slowly, he unlocks the door,
trying not to make any sound. With the locks off, he slowly opens the door and
heads outside.
Walking towards the lake, he holds the lantern up over his
head. The undead immediately see the light shining in the darkness and come
towards it. Fred laughs to himself as he thinks of moths coming to a flame.
"Come on you morons, follow the light." he says as he starts walking away from
the cabin. The undead almost fall over themselves as they turn to follow him. He
tries to stay about ten steps ahead of them. If he goes too fast, he will lose
them, too slow and they will realize he is not alive. Despite being undead, he
can move faster than they can. So he walks around the lake with the group of
zombies following behind him. When he reaches the other side, he moves a few
hundred feet away from the lake waits for them to catch up. Looking for a sturdy
branch, he hangs the lantern from a tree and cocks his gun. The first undead
steps into the light and towards him. The groom reaches out with his dirt
encrusted fingernails and claws at the air. He opens his mouth and bares his
stained teeth. Aiming for his head, Fred waits a second and then shoots. The
bullet flies out of the gun and hits the undead right through his right eye. He
falls back, blood spurting out of his eye socket. His body falls to the ground,
right in front of his bride, who ignores it and continues on. "Time for you two
to be together." Fred says as he aims at her head. She hisses at him as he comes
into view. This time the bullet goes right between the eyes. The impact of the
bullet makes her step back. A few seconds go by as the brain dies and then the
body falls to the ground. She falls down and lands next to her husband.
There is a moment of silence after the bride falls. Waiting
for the other undead to attack, he hears nothing. It is like they just stopped.
He finds it odd that all three undead would just stop, but it is what seems to
be happening. Wondering what is happening, Fred steps out of the light and looks
for the other undead. Heading back, he grabs the lantern and starts looking
around. He starts walking towards the lake, when he finds the bodies of the
priest and both altar boys. All three are laying dead on the ground with arrows
stuck in their heads. He goes up to the body of one of the boys and looks at it.
The arrow is stuck in the eye, with a puddle of blood on the ground. "That was
quite a shot." Fred says as he is impressed by the marksmanship. Before he can
figure out who did it, he hears a voice behind him. "You should not be here,
abomination." Fred turns to see a half dozen glowing skull faces. As he looks at
them, he can see they are people with their faces painted to look like skulls
with some kind of glowing paint. "Excuse me?" Fred responds, not knowing exactly
what to say. "This is sacred ground. We do not allow any spawn of hell to soil
its ground." This makes him nervous. He can see by the dead undead, they have
deadly aim. If he decided to fight them, it would be a losing cause. He needs to
know what it is they want. "What do you mean, abomination?" The skulls move a
step closer as the leader speaks out "You are one of them, an abomination. You
are neither alive or dead." Fred was fearful that is what they meant. "If that
is the case, why have you not killed me?" While they are talking, two more
glowing skull faces joins the group. The number is now eight. "I am unsure what
you are. You are dead like them, but you speak and feel like us. I need to know
if you are the only one or if they are mutating." He never thought if like that.
If the undead were changing, what would it mean to the last humans? Would they
stand any chance against a foe that is not mindless, but can think and reason
like they can? Fearing that he will die either way, he speaks the truth. "I am
the only one that I know of." He sees a few of them move like they are raising
their bows. "What do you want with the woman?" he asks her as he also raises his
bow. "I saved her from some men and I am trying to get her to a military base on
the East Coast." The glowing heads all look at each other. It is obviously not
the answer they were expecting. "Then take her there, but leave tomorrow. This
is your only warning." With that, they turn and disappear into the darkness.
As he heads back to the cabin, he thinks about how he needs
to keep this from Trish. She is finally feeling secure and the last thing he
wants to do is scare her. If he tries, maybe he can give her a false sense of
security. With some luck, he can keep the undead at bay and let her sleep in
peace. He knew he could not stay here with her forever, but he hoped to stay
longer. How will he break it to her to leave so suddenly.
It takes awhile to get back to the cabin, but he is happy to
see it. As he walks up towards the cabin, he notices something that makes his
blood run cold. The front door is wide open. He is sure he closed it. Did he not
close it all the way? Or did something open it? He cocks his gun and starts
walking faster towards the cabin. He prays to God that nothing has happened to
her. He rushes up the stairs as fast as he can go. When he makes it to her
bedroom, he sees her door is also open. Did some more undead show up while he
was gone? Saying a quick prayer, he turns the corner to find her sleeping in
bed. He breathes a sigh of relief until he notices a red arrow stuck in the
bedpost, inches from her head. Now he knows they are serious and they better
leave. With a strong tug, he pulls the arrow from the bedpost and takes it
downstairs. With the fire still going, he throws it into the fire, burning any
evidence of last night. He then bolts the door shut and proceeds to bring as
many guns and bullets upstairs as he can find. If he must leave, he is leaving
well armed.
Undead Ally ©
Tom Zjaba 2008