Crowded Yet Desolate: A Zombie Novel (4 page)

As he scanned the wall, Ryan noticed many empty spots, one of which was where Roe had taken the Katana from.
I wonder if the people who took the others are still alive?

There was an open door to the right of the counter. Above it was a sign that read
Shooting Range
. Ryan walked towards it and saw ammunition littering the floor, falling out of a closet.

Joe approached Ryan, and bluntly asked, “You get bit?”

“What?”

“Were you bit? Were you scratched?”

“Uh . . . ” Ryan inspected his arms and body. “No. I feel fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Why?” When no one answered, Ryan’s temper rose. “What is going on here? Do you guys know something about all of this? If so, then out with it because it’s starting to fucking piss me off–”

A noise clamored above them: a door smashed open. Ryan thought of his door, the number
714
falling to the ground. Footsteps echoed down a flight of stairs. Ryan followed the path of the noise with his eyes, fearing the worst. Each time the sounds grew louder Ryan’s stomach churned. Eventually, his eyes met a previously unnoticed door at the back of the room. The door shook as someone banged on it from the other side.

Chapter 5

The door began to give as it was repeatedly hit, splinters cracking around the lock. Ryan shuddered, for he knew the door would soon fall, and there would be no place to escape the monsters from the other side of the door. The group had somehow managed to get surrounded again. Despite being surrounded by weapons, Ryan felt helpless. With a crack, a final blow swung the door open, crashing against the back wall. Two figures stood beyond the door. The sun shone brightly behind them, and in the dark Ryan could not make out the features of the glowing phantoms. He watched as they made their way towards the group, a sight that made his stomach churn. After a few paces, the figures stopped.

Something suddenly changed in Ryan. He felt the weight of everything: finding his wife as a monster, breaking her legs with the bat, watching a child be eaten by her father. The images circled his thoughts, angering him, until he snapped, and a rage filled him, more intense than he had ever felt. He charged towards the door, his bat resting on his right shoulder. He gripped it with both hands. Almost within swinging distance, ready for whatever lay ahead, his arms tingling with expectation, he heard a small, frightened voice.

“Hello? Who . . . who is there?”

Ryan stopped, puzzled. He narrowed his eyes on the motionless figures and slowly realized the truth: these were humans, not monsters.
Did I just almost murder someone?
he thought. In his paranoia, he hadn’t even bothered to check if these were people or monsters.

At a loss for words, Ryan asked the first thing that came to mind. “Who are you?”

“We asked first,” said the other figure, with a much deeper voice. This scenario reminded Ryan of petty elementary school arguments.

“Well, uh, I’m Ryan . . . but that doesn’t really do you any good does it?”

“No, I suppose not,” said the first voice. “What business do you have here?”

Joe Replied, from somewhere behind Ryan, “It’s fucked up out there, and we barely made it in here with our lives. What do you care? Last time I checked, we were here first. What’s your business here?”

Ryan heard the strangers whisper to each other. The, the lights came on, and Ryan blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes. As he did, one of the newcomers came into focus, one hand on the light switch, the other hand wielding a hammer. He raised the hammer and pointed it at Ryan’s face. The man was tall and pudgy and going bald on the top of his head. He wore glasses that magnified the size of his eyes, which sunk deeply under his brow. The other man was much smaller, mousy in all his facial features. He held a baseball bat, it looking out of place in his arms.
Why is he the one with the bat?
Ryan wondered, his mind, even in danger, going to strange places.

“So what do we do about this?” the taller man asked.

“Well,” his companion said, pausing, pondering the situation. “We have no reason to distrust them. After all, they just walked in here, they weren’t exactly looking for trouble.” He turned to Ryan, now smiling. “We thought you were zombies. It’s really quite a nice surprise you’re here. Not sure how much longer we would have lasted alone.”

Ryan gave him a quizzical look. “Wait. What?”

“It’s a joke,” he said, and he continued, but Ryan wasn’t listening.

Zombies–there’s that word again
.
Ryan reflected over the whole day. How Deborah looked, how she was impervious to pain. The way she acted, the way she moved. The monster’s cruelty in the streets. Then Ryan saw clearly, like she was directly in front of him, the little girl from the street and the horrified look on her face as she watched her father fall to the ground dead.
But he didn’t stay dead, did he?

Holy shit!
Ryan thought.
Zombies!
Now that he understood, Ryan couldn’t believe it took him so long to realize what these monsters were. His mind raced.
Zombies.
The word echoed in his head, over and over, as if reputation would make it more plausible. But the zombies he had seen today looked nothing like the ones he was familiar with, the ones had seen in “Dawn of the Dead” as a child. Those zombies slowly lumbered around in decayed flesh. But these zombies looked so . . . human.

The storeroom started to spin. Cam, who had approached during the conversation, caught Ryan as his legs buckled, both of them collapsing onto the floor.

“Whoa there Bessie!” Cam said. “You all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He paused, chuckling. “I guess that isn’t so ridiculous these days.”

Ryan lay there on the ground while Cam inched his way out from under him. Ryan found every breath difficult, a struggle. His heart raced. Wide-eyed, he looked up at Cam and said, “Zombies.” 

Cam gave him a puzzled look. “No, they’re not zombies. Are you high? Look at them.” He pointed to the strangers at the door. “Just as much human as you and me.”

“He might be in shock,” said the mousy stranger. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around.”

It was clear to Ryan that everyone already knew, that he was the last one to realize. How could Ryan be the only one? Whatever the reason, he had now made himself look like a fool. Ryan was grateful that they mistook his ignorance for shock, but it still bothered him that it took him so long to realize what these creatures were. He didn’t consider himself to be naïve. So what had taken him so long? After thinking for a moment, Ryan came to a possible answer. He remembered the night when his parents allowed him and his friends to watch “Dawn of the Dead.” This had been his first encounter with zombies. His friends had enjoyed it, but Ryan had to force himself to finish it. Nightmares haunted his sleep for almost four months afterwards. Ryan supposed, in some way, his subconscious had removed zombies from his vocabulary, so now that they actually existed, he didn’t recognize them. But he could no longer escape reality. Zombies were real, here and now, regardless of how much he wished otherwise.

Ryan suddenly became aware that he was still on the floor and that his companions were gathering around him. He sat up and felt fine, so he stood, looking towards the window. Monsters–no, zombies–surrounded the building. “Zombies,” Ryan repeated, pointing towards the window. Zombies lined the glass, attracted by the sounds and light inside. Some pushed on the glass while a few others beat their fists against it. Tiny cracks were beginning to appear. Ryan could read the expressionless fury in their faces and blood-shot eyes through the glass.

“They’re not going to break the glass anytime soon,” the mousy man said. “And even if they do, the gate should hold them. There are apartments upstairs. We’ve been camping out in one, and there’s plenty of space.”

Joe spoke for the group. “We should go up with them. We’re attracting a bit too much attention here.”

After turning off the lights, Ryan followed the group out of the room, closing the door behind him, up a flight of stairs to the fourth floor, and into a small apartment. The men spread out in the living room, some taking furniture and others sitting on the floor. It was a small space, and cheaply furnished, but it would be safer for everyone to stay in one room. Ryan sat in between Joe and Cam on the couch. The mousy man came back into the living room with Poptarts and potato chips. Hungry, Ryan took a pack of Poptarts. As they all ate in silence, Ryan’s thoughts drifted. All day he had wanted to know what was happening and what these monsters were. Now that he knew, he wished he had never known. His worst nightmare, his childhood demons, alive and walking the streets. Hunting him, chasing him . . . married to him.

The tall man walked back into the living room and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. “So, you all right, er, Ryan was it?” he asked.

“Ya, it’s Ryan. And I’m fine, thanks. I’ve just kind of been through a lot today. We all have.”

“Yes,” he said somberly in reply.

Ryan fought back a smirk. He doubted that this man, or any of the others, could truly empathize with what he’d been through that day.

“I’m Kyle, by the way. Kyle Shorter.”

Cam leaned forward on the couch and turned to face Kyle. “Wait! Kyle Shorter, like the preacher Kyle Shorter?” Kyle nodded. “No way! My parents go to your church. They go every–” He stopped. His sudden cheerfulness and surprise drained away instantly, and he spoke the next words as if he knew they’d be painful, that they could no one any good, especially himself, yet the thought had already been formed and their release was needed. “Well I guess they went every week.”

Ryan looked down at his lap. Of course he wasn’t the only one who lost someone. They had all been through hell.

Kyle nodded empathetically towards the nerdy looking man, who said, “Right, um. My name is Albert.”

“I’m Joseph, call me Joe,” said the twin with the strong southern accent.

“And I’m Roland, but call me Roe.” The two smiled at each other, still finding amusement from their joke. Despite having vastly different accents, it was clear to Ryan they were inseparable.

Everyone looked at Cam. Aware of their eyes, he wiped away tears with his arm, trying his best to look as if he had never cried. “Cam.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Kyle said. After a moment, Albert murmured his consent.

With this, all fell silent. Gloom hung in the air, as palpable as the wind on a spring day. Introductions had failed to kill the tension. What exactly do you do in the spawn of a zombie infestation? Ryan wondered.

After finishing his food, Ryan placed his trash on the coffee table and broke the silence: “So, do you two know each other?” They shook their heads. “Then How’d you end up here together?”

They exchanged a glance, and then Albert cleared his throat and began. “Well, I’m a biology professor at Georgia Tech. I was working in the lab when–”

“But it’s summer,” Cam interrupted, his composure now fully regained. “Why were you at school?”

“Science doesn’t take a holiday, and neither do those who make it happen.”

Is this guy listening to himself ?
Ryan thought.

“Um, Right,” Cam said.

“Anyways,” continued Albert. “I was in the lab when I thought I heard a car accident outside. I was at a good stopping point in my work, so I went out to see if I could help. Well, there was indeed a car accident. A woman had hit a pole. But what I didn’t expect was a riot of people attacking her car. When I got close enough, I was astonished to find that the riot was actually a zombie attack.”

Ryan blushed. Even the scientist had enough imagination to pin these creatures as zombies.

“Of course, I thought I was losing my mind. Zombies don’t exist. They’re a product of fiction. And as entertaining as some might find this nonsense, they simply just don’t exist.” He gathered his breath. “But a theory is naught if it contradicts data, and what I saw in front of me were zombies. Or at least something close enough to zombies that we can label them as such.”

“Never ask a professor a question unless you want the long answer,” Cam said. Albert glanced sternly at Cam, who quickly dropped his smile and looked away. Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. Eventually the others joined in, and the noise filled the apartment. Laughing felt good. Ryan was glad they still remembered how to, despite the surrounding chaos.

When the laughter ended, Albert said, “All right, Cam. Here’s your short version. The woman in the car was already dead, so I left. I didn’t know what to do, but I was worried about my x-wife so I headed to this building, where she lives. On the way, I got into some trouble, and Kyle saved my life. When we got here, she was already gone . . . the whole building was empty, in fact. We secured it.”

Kyle nodded, adjusting his glasses.

Ryan wasn’t ready to relive his story yet. To avoid being asked his own question, he said, “So, zombies. Actual zombies, walking around us.”

“I know,” Albert said. “I can’t believe it myself.”

“You’re a scientist. Have any idea what might have caused it?” Ryan asked.
Of course not. How could he know that?

To Ryan’s surprise, Roe chimed in. “Well, we gotta few ideas?”

“Really?” Albert asked. “At ground zero were you?” The disdain in his voice was obvious.

Roe shot him a nasty look. “No. You see, I guess we are what you might call . . . ”

“Zombie enthusiasts,” Joe finished for his twin.

“Uh-huh,” Albert sneered, “and what exactly does that entail?”

The twins exchanged a look, appearing to regret that they spoke up. Roe then said, “It’s not like it’s a definition to memorize or anything.”

“We just like zombies.” Joe said. He shrugged. “The fictional ones at least.”

“Ya, we’re not too fond of the real ones,” Roe agreed.

“We watch the movies, read the books–typical fandom.” Joe paused. “Don’t think we’re too big of nerds, now. It’s a lot better than being a trekkie or worshipping George Lucas.”

“Sorry Bro, we kind of are nerds,” Roe said. “There’s a whole community of us. We’d get together and discuss zombies, and sometimes we talk about different things that could cause an actual zombie apocalypse.”

“And, of course, we planned for when the zombies attacked,” Joe finished.

Ryan threw his hand out to pause them. “Wait a minute. You have a zombie attack plan?”