Dead Living (8 page)

The fact that he shouldn't be alive finally
crept into his mind. He looked at the corpses around him. They
continued to feast on his family, just a few feet away. Others
wandered around the store, tripping over each other and fallen
shelves.

Aaron climbed to his feet, almost slipping in
the pool of blood. He tried to piece together what was happening in
his mind, but he just couldn't figure it out. The walking corpses
simply ignored him, as if he wasn't there. For a moment, Aaron
thought that maybe they couldn't see him for some reason. Then he
noticed some did look at him.

They just didn't want to eat him.

A new low moan caught his attention behind
him. He spun around, and his shoulders slumped as he started to cry
all over again.

The undead didn't leave enough of Frank,
Denise, and Margie to reanimate. That wasn't the case with Joe.
Aaron's father pulled his hand away from Denise. He slowly stood
up, almost losing his balance a few times. His eyes were white
marbles. There was a hole in his mouth where his tongue used to
be.

He looked at his former son, not a single
glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Then he looked at his
surroundings with only one goal. Fresh meat.

The rest of the undead no longer enjoyed the
taste of cold flesh. They wandered off, not caring that Aaron was
right there.

Aaron grabbed Frank's gun from his severed
hand. With tears clouding his vision, he leveled the gun right at
Joe's head.

The first corpse Aaron would ever kill with a
gun was his father.

“I love you, Dad.”

He fired a single time. After his father died
for the second time, Aaron leaned over and vomited.

He looked at the undead around him. He was
not happy he was alive. “Why don't you kill me?”

He waved his hand in their faces and jumped
up and down. Some looked at him, even gave him what might have been
a look of confusion. But they didn't attack him.

As the walking corpses milled about, Aaron
looked again at Frank's gun. He thought about putting the barrel in
his mouth and pulling the trigger.

None of it was fair at all. Frank and Margie
had finally opened up about their relationship. Joe and Denise were
about to do the same. Aaron felt it. He wanted to be with them,
wherever they were. He didn't want to be without his family in the
world of the dead.

But he couldn't do it.

His father wouldn't want Aaron to kill
himself. Joe taught Aaron how to do everything, to take care of
himself. He wanted his son to have a long life.

So that's what Aaron would do.

He left the clothing store, pushing a corpse
to the ground as he did so. “Fuck you all.”

Aaron looked at the streets of Walton one
last time before he left. He half- expected the undead to pounce on
him at any second, right as he started to relax.

That would never happen.

“Samantha? Hey, Samantha? You in there?”

Samantha woke up on her mattress in the
corner of what used to be a high school English classroom. She
didn't know how much sleep she had, but she knew it couldn't have
been much by how tired she was. She looked at the curtains she put
up, covering the classroom windows. It was the only way she could
block out the light so she could sleep. She saw a silhouette just
outside.

“Yeah. What do you want?”

“It's Larry. Are you decent?”

“No. Give me a second.”

Samantha always slept naked when it was hot.
She slipped on a pair of panties, black shorts, and a tee shirt
with a few holes in the back. A sports bra would have to wait.

She stumbled to the window and shoved the
curtain aside. The sunlight poured in. The people of Lexington High
School went about their lives. Michael Walker moved some barrels of
water collected from last night's rain. Susan Lively tended to the
huge vegetable garden in the old football field. Paul Sorenson
chased a chicken, with a few of the kids laughing at him. The
chicken coops were on the other side of the high school, which
meant Paul must have been having a lousy morning. If she weren't so
tired and grumpy, Samantha might have laughed.

Of course, many of the
people at Lexington would say Samantha was
always
grumpy. She wasn't the most
popular person. Most people helped out because they wanted to.
Richardson, the man responsible for turning Lexington High School
into a shelter, led by example. He was always working to make the
place better, and most everyone followed his lead. Samantha had
only found Lexington a few years ago, and she worked out of
boredom, or because there was something to gain.

Samantha caught Larry looking her up and
down. She knew some men looked at her. She didn't care. She'd spent
most of her life alone surviving out in the world, only running
with people when she needed to, until she stumbled upon Lexington.
She had no desire for companionship or friends. She learned the
hard way that friends were your friends as long as it was easy and
convenient. When the walking corpses showed up, friendships ended
very fast.

She could handle acquaintances fine. Friends,
not so much.

“Larry, I had fence duty last night.
Richardson stuck me with Troy.” Larry winced at the name. Troy's
feelings for Samantha were well known. “So I spent every dark hour
circling the fence with a man telling me how beautiful I am. I'm
tired. Please tell me it's important.”

“Just wanted to give you a heads up.
Richardson's been looking for you.”

Samantha shook her head. That meant he had
another task for her. Usually when Richardson sought her out, it
was to do something no one else wanted to. Samantha always would,
for the right price.

“Thanks, Larry.” He turned to walk away.
Samantha stopped him. “Oh, hey.”

He spun back around. She flashed a tiny
smile. “You and your gal pal aren't as quiet as you think,” she
said. Troy and she saw them while watching the fences, under the
old bleachers near the smokehouse, which didn't see much use these
days. “You might want to find a new spot.”

His face turned red, but he managed a smile.
“Uh, thanks.”

Samantha closed the curtains and finished
getting dressed. She couldn't decide on wearing her last semi-clean
pair of socks, or wearing sandals. She settled on sandals, and
grabbed her old brush and mirror from the desk she used to hold the
few things she had.

Like most everyone at Lexington, she didn't
know how old she was. She was born after the world died, which
Richardson said was twenty-three years ago. So she guessed she was
a few years younger than that. She had brown eyes and dark straight
hair that came down to her shoulders, with curly bangs. Her hair
was starting to get long. She'd have to bug Mary Taylor for a trim.
She had dark skin, but didn't know what her heritage was. She had
no way of knowing her parents were from Pakistan, not that it
mattered. Most people didn't care about race when walking corpses
ruled the world.

She left the English classroom that had
become her room, her sanctuary. Her room was simple enough.
Mattress in the corner. Clothes folder neatly in stacks on the
floor. A box of candles under the window. Old world hygiene items
on a tiny table near her mattress. There was plenty of room for her
to stretch out and relax. Her room also had windows. Not everyone
could say that.

It was amazing what Richardson had done with
the old school. Most of the classrooms had become personal spaces,
some more valued over others. The old gymnasium was their
storeroom, full of clothes, guns, ammunition, candles, everything
they could find. The cafeteria didn't serve much of a purpose
besides a place for everyone to gather and spend time together
during the winter. Sometimes Richardson would get out his guitar
and play for everyone. The library was destroyed for the most part,
holding nothing but trash, broken desks, chairs, and old books no
one was interested in.

The halls were mostly empty. It was getting
hot quickly, and most of the inner rooms were too stuffy during the
day. She nodded a few greetings at the people she passed, then
finally went outside through the gymnasium. She gave Helen a wave.
Helen had storeroom duty, keeping track of everything people took.
Samantha felt bad for her. She wouldn't want that chore. Of course,
Richardson would never give her that task, since she couldn't
read.

Samantha stretched her arms as she stepped
into the sun. Lexington housed nearly sixty people. She watched
them as they went about their daily routine. She hoped the people
appreciated what they had. She'd seen places in her life far
worse.

Lexington High was in a very unique spot in
the suburbs. They were in the middle of a three mile stretch of
road. Houses long abandoned surrounded them, as well as a thick
woods behind them. But that was it. There were no corpses. If they
went to the end of the road in either direction, they would run
into thousands of undead. But the undead didn't wander the distance
it would take to find Lexington High. Occasionally small groups of
them found their way, but that's why Richardson demanded active
fence duty every night. Teams of two walked the perimeter of the
fence around the school, looking for corpses.

Before Samantha found Lexington, life wasn't
pleasant. Lexington had its problems, but it was better than
surviving out in the wild.

She saw Richardson near the spring-house, not
too far from the soccer field. They had discovered a long time ago
that water flowed under them, most likely to the river deep in the
woods. They dug up the ground and built a cinder block shack over
the stream. It provided fresh water and basic refrigeration. The
kids loved staying in it when it got hot.

He had his notebook with him, like always. He
took notes on chores, improvements to be made, everything he could
think of. When he wasn't taking notes, he did whatever needed to be
done. He was an older black man in his fifties, and had a way about
him that kept everyone calm. He was everyone's source of strength,
no question about it.

Samantha debated on approaching him. If
whatever he wanted was so important, he could find her later. But
he noticed her, and motioned for her to come.

Shit, what now?
she thought.
Isn't a
night with horndog Troy bad enough?

“Good morning,” he said when she was close
enough. “How did last night go?”

She shook her head. “Next time you draft me
for fence duty, could you stick me with someone besides Troy?”

He laughed. Richardson had a warm, genuine
laugh. “He put the moves on you all night?”

“Yeah. I almost punched him five times.”

“Well, he finds you attractive. I'm sure some
of the others do too.”

“The
others
stay to
themselves.”

Richardson smirked. Everyone knew Samantha
didn't go out of her way to make friends, and kept to herself. “I
already talked to Susan. Just go see her, she'll slip you a few
extra veggies.”

Samantha nodded. That was how she worked. She
would help out, if she had to. But the tedious work, the fence duty
in particular, that required extra. Payment in the form of food,
items, return favors, they were as good as gold was in the old
world.

“Okay, so what did you want to see me
about?”

Richardson looked around. The young twins,
Kyle and Kari, chased each other across the soccer field, crossing
Richardson's path. He waited until they were further away before
speaking. He had no doubt what he was about to tell Samantha would
be public by the end of the day. It was hard to keep a secret at
Lexington. But he wanted to keep this news as quiet as
possible.

“Lisa and Robert had their baby last
night.”

“Oh wow. That's good, right?”

Richardson swallowed hard. Samantha was
surprised. It took a lot to get to him.

“It was stillborn. The child was born . . .
already dead. It was already a baby corpse.”

“Holy shit.”

Richardson was there, as well as Mary Taylor,
Lisa's good friend. It was something he would never forget. The
baby actually tried to bite Mary on the arm as she held it. Lisa
wanted to hold it, and Mary didn't have the heart to tell her it
was undead.

“Yeah, well. Rob snapped. You know how he
always carries that six shot with him?”

Samantha frowned. “Oh no.”

He nodded. “Yeah. He shot the baby, while
Mary was still holding it. Then Lisa. I thought he was gonna shoot
Mary and me, but he killed himself.”

“Is Mary okay?”

“Physically, yeah. But she hasn't been
outside all day.”

She was horrified. Everyone was excited about
Lisa and Rob's baby. The last birth they had was quite a while ago.
It gave everybody something to bond over. But she was confused.

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Rob was on Garrett's supply team. They're
heading out today. You're the only one with experience getting
supplies. Hell, half the people here haven't even killed a walker.
So I'm hoping you'll take his place.”

She gave him a blank look. Garrett was an
asshole, but he was good at what he did. They had two old U-Haul
moving trucks still in working condition, and once a month they
would go out and get supplies. Of course, that was much more
dangerous than watching the fence at night.

“I'm not trying to be a bitch, Richardson,
but that's gonna be a little pricey.”

He sighed, knowing that was the response he'd
get. He was still disappointed. Samantha wasn't a bad person. In
fact, he trusted her with things he wouldn't trust with anyone
else. But she was still something of an outsider at Lexington. She
lived there since she was a teenager, but kept to herself. She
actively refused to make friends. She had a price for everything,
wouldn't do anything simply because it was the right thing.