Get Zombie: 8-Book Set (36 page)

I'm
not a great conversationalist, so the questions came slow. To make it
easier (and to keep her rambling) I asked her life story, and she
gave it.

Her
name was Volgerton Lami'ann State. It was Spanish. Her friends called
her Vol, and she encouraged me to do the same. I agreed that I would
to keep her happy. My foot kicked something heavy and wet. The whole
front of my shoe went into the thing. It was cold. I kicked it aside
and explored on, also encouraging this Vol to proceed with her life
story. My plan was working. I was getting less afraid. Vol said she
was thinking, then went on with it....

She
was raised in Hawaii Kai where all the rich people lived. It seemed
to me that the more money you had, the farther away you wanna be from
us normal folk...from all the noise. I have to hand it to rich
people. They can buy all the peace and quiet they want. I envy that.

Vol
hated it there in Hawaii Kai, said it was too dry...too dead. So one
day she gets the balls to ride her bike down a few new roads. She
wanted to get away from home for a few minutes to find a little
excitement. Problem was, minutes turned into hours. Poor Vol was
lost. The next couple hours were fuzzy, but she remembers being
snatched up and flying through the night, still holding onto her
bike. The aswang hit some turbulence. Vol let go, and the bike fell
on a Mercedes, setting loose the car horn.

The
aswang landed on a roof of some rich 3-story house and told Vol to
keep her mouth shut while she got a little snack. Vol stared at the
monster's torso. No legs, remember? The thing just crawled around the
roof with its elbows up, sniffing the roof, nose going up and down.
Then the aswang stuck its tongue through a crack. It looked like a
red straw. After minutes of slurping, the aswang's belly got real big
and fat-like. She looked pregnant. A woman down in the house
screamed. Terrible screams, Vol said – they were full-on
murder-screams. The aswang seemed to panic and started to crawl
around, thinking, thinking.

“Time
to go!” it said, and scooped Vol up. They struggled.

The
woman downstairs, now fetus-less, shrieked at someone to call the
police. Vol yelled back:

“Help,
lady! I'm here! On the roof!”

The
aswang said something nasty in Filipino, and they were off again in
the chilled air.

Next
memory, she's in this room of meat, bones, junk. She calls the old
woman “The aswang”, and I feel a shiver run up my legs
each time I hear it. I say nothing; she talks some more. Vol tried to
fight off the witch, was even able to hit her upside the head with a
sock full of pennies she collected from off the ground. She lost –
was no match for Granny's supernatural muscle – and was sent to
stay in the meat room until...well...who knows?

After
much searching, and much tossing of strange, soft, clay-like items
over my head, I felt...a doorknob.

Huzzah!

My
hands slid all over it.
Water,
I just kept thinking.
Only
water. Only water.

I
gave it one last tug and fell back onto that sick floor. I realized
then that the smell wasn't bothering me – that aroma of rotted
meat. I was getting used to this...and that disgusted me. For a
second I felt like a monster. If I ended up craving flesh, that was
it. Only suicide would save my demonic soul.

I
wiped the mud off the keyhole and took a peek. I saw a candle on the
other side. The whole underground place was built by no craft master.
It was weak. Time was eating the place out, rotting it out.

I
gripped the doorknob, putting my foot up against the wall, pulling
and pulling, muscles flexing, teeth grinding. It creaked. I let go
and took a deep breath. I was too weak. If ONLY I were bigger,
stronger. If only, if only.... Don't cry, don't cry. Think, just
think. I looked to the back of the room.

“Hey...Vol?”

The
girl grunted, mouth full.

“Yeah?”

“I
could use some help.”

“Kinda
busy here.”

“I
just need you to help me open this door.”

“Is
that what you're doing? I thought you were pushing out shit.”

“I
can get us out of here. We have to work together.”

Vol
laughed.

“
Such
a hero. Stupid girl, you
really
do wanna die.” More sucking sounds...a swallow...then, “She'll
be on us like white on rice, you dig?”

I
shrugged.

“Fine.
Stay here in the dark. I'm at least gonna try.”

There
was a pause.

What
was happening?

What
was Vol doing?

She
brushed up against my arm.

“I'm
holding the doorknob, so don't freak out,” she said. “Now
what, Einstein?”

“I
prefer Bohr, but anyway....” We both had our hands on the knob
– mine over hers. I tried not to smell Vol. She reminded me of
the first (and last) time I baked chicken. Long story short, our cats
got a whiff and puked so much milk. Mum was not amused when she got
home.

Vol
had one of those whistling noses.

“I
hope this works,” she said.

I
tried to find my footing in all that crap on the ground. “Once
we open this door, we hightail through the place and jump out that
window I saw.”

“No
good,” Vol said.

“What?”

“You
didn't see behind the curtain. The thing's boarded up. Try and jump
through that and you'll crack your neck something awful.”

“Well,
what the hell then?”

Vol
sighed. “We fly straight up 'dem stairs and jump up that
chimney.”

“I
ain't climbing up some stank-ass chimney. Kid-grime is all over the
inside of that thing.”

On
the other side, a door opened...feet walked down broken stairs. I
panicked.

“Shit!
She's coming back.”

Vol
was calm.

“Shh,”
she said. “I have a brilliant idea.”

Before
I could say anything, the door opened, and Granny stuck her big head
into the room.

“You
gals ready to eat more stuff? I made balut.”

Vol
screamed out, “Hit her!” and I did. Punched my thumbs
right into her skull until her eyes were pushed back into her brain.
Vol kicked her in the baby-maker. We ran out into the candlelight.
Vol, a dark-skinned Filipino girl painted in blood from baseball cap
to tennis shoes, grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the stairs. She
was short but so much stronger.

“Let's
go!” she said. “Hurry UP!”

There
was a hole at the top of the stairs, into the trailer home. I could
already smell that Filipino snake-oil.

Granny
grabbed my foot.

“Kids!
Kids!” she was saying. “I will eat you out!”

Vol
starts kicking her in the face. Granny takes HER foot and pulls real
good. They both go tumbling down the stairs, rolling smack into a
wall. I ran up the stairs. Vol screamed. Granny had her mitts all
over Vol, pinning her against the wall, strangling her. Vol stared at
me, trying to gurgle out words. Granny put her mouth on Vol's face.
Her mouth unhinged like she was a shark and covered half of Vol's
head. The witch was eager. She sounded like a hyena. Vol looked
perplexed.

I
climbed through the hole. I had to find a weapon – anything
sharp – and get back down there.

The
trailer was full of kids. They were hiding (or more like living)
under tables, in the closet, on the floor, some were even under the
carpet. They were all fatter. They all had this strange look in their
eyes, like they just gave up all hope. They ran from me like I was
the damn monster.

No
time for this crap.

Vol
was screaming down those stairs. I ran to the table and looked for a
knife.

Nothing.

Not
even a fork.

Where
did she hide the utensils?

“Knife!”
I said to a kid that was sleeping on the couch. “Knifffffe!?”

The
little princess woke up from her slumber, turned to gaze up at me,
then went back to sleep.

I
looked around.

That
chair! I could use throw it in the aswang's face! No, wait –
even better. That plate! I can shatter it and dig her guts out! Yes!
Brilliant! I'll just take that plate, and...

Vol
screaming again sent my body running for the chimney. I wasn't
thinking any more. My body took full control over reason.

BRAIN:
Coward! You're just going to let her die?!

BODY:
I have to get out of here!

BRAIN:
Stop right now! Turn around and help her!

I
squeezed my body into the chimney and inched my way up. It smelt like
SPAM. I saw sunlight above me. It empowered me. I climbed faster.
Confident. This was it. The homestretch.

“BLAHHHHHHHH!”
screeched a voice. It was like an old gate.

I
looked down.

Granny
was staring up at me. She looked scared. I forced my limbs to work
through the burning in my muscles. Granny tried to get in there and
make her way up, but she was to thick. I climbed out of the chimney
with my eyes closed. The sunlight hit my eyes like lasers. After a
bit of rubbing, I could see again.

I
was in the middle of a forest. Mountains were in the distance. I
could hear Granny opening those locks. I grabbed the cable wire and
scaled the home like those police guys on TV. The thing snapped in
two, and I hit the ground like a stuck pig, complete with squealing.
I was excited. Ignore the pain. I got up and forgot the sting in my
shoulder and vamoosed the heck out of there. The front door opened.

“Hero!”
the witch yelled. “Come back! Please?!”

I
ran faster.

Granny
cried out in pain, and then I heard another voice.

“Keep
running!”

It
was Vol.

I
caught a glimpse of Granny on the grass, moving around in pain with
her hand on her back.

“My
back!” she complained. “My back! You little stink! My
baaaack!”

Vol
was looking at me and pointing into the woods, jabbing her finger
into the woods. Run, run, run! I did. The second time I looked behind
me, Vol was on Granny's back, covering her eyes as Granny spun around
and around, reaching behind her, trying to swat Vol off. I ran some
more and then looked behind me again. Granny was on top of Vol, had
Vol pinned to the ground, her mouth on Vol's neck, sucking on her,
blood shooting out like red strings. The witch picked up Vol's body
and ran back into the house. The door slammed shut.

I
made my way through those woods with that horrific image of Granny
taking a big bite out of Vol's neck replaying in my mind. Vol was
dead. Could I have saved her?

Should
I go back and this time really be a hero?

I
tripped and rolled down a hill.

I
looked up at the sun. My face burned. I was in a stream, and water
rushed into my ears. I sat up, choking and spewing.

Good
thing I didn't land on my face. How long was I out? Fear hit me. How
CLOSE was the witch? She was looking for me – I

knew
it!

Run,
run, run.

I
stood up and fell back down. My body wasn't listening again. My knees
complained. I tried again. Each step felt like I was setting off
little firebombs in my knees. I looked up the hill. No way was I
going up it, not with these knees, so I decided to just walk along
the stream. After an hour of that, I had to rest my legs. Hungry, I
entertained the idea of trying to catch a fish. Maybe I'd eat it raw,
I was so hungry. No. I had to keep moving. I had all the time to eat
once I was home. The old aswang was looking for me...and she was
pissed off and determined, for sure. Walking along the stream was not
the best way to hide from her, so I bit the bullet and chose to go up
that hill.

It
looked more like a wall.

I
grabbed weeds and bushes and hugged trees, pulling myself up. I sat
on the mud and took a little breather, looking over to the mountain
across from me, across the river. She was in those trees, that old
witch. I could smell her, or maybe I was smelling myself? Then the
idea to bath in the stream came, to wash away any foul odors so she
couldn't smell me. I cursed the thought out. Too late for that now.
I'd have enough time to wash away my stink when I got home.

IF
I got home.

The
suspicion made me want to cry all over again, but I fought the urge.
I had to be as quiet as possible. What time was it? I looked up at
the sun. I guessed...three o’clock? I had no idea. Who was I?
Crocodile friggin' Dundee? I had to hurry into the woods. I had to
hide before it got dark. Maybe I'd make a little house of sticks. How
hard could it be? If those fools in Survivor could do it, so could I.
And I'm talking about the TV show, not the band.

So
I's tried to make a stick house, and it's impossible. Frakking
impossible. Nothing worked. I needed strings or glue or I don't know
what. I certainly couldn't waste time and dick around with a stick
house. If it came down to it, I'd just sleep and hide under a stack
of leaves and mud. Anything was better than freezing and getting the
gangrene and losing my toes.

What
happened to Vol?

Was
she alive?

Vol
saved me. She bought me time to get away. She must've jumpkicked
Granny right on the back. Vol sacrificed her life for me – FOR
ME. How could someone do that? It was suicide. How does someone do
that for another? And all I did was run, just like she ordered. I
figured the was the best way to honor her now was to stay alive, or
it was all for nothing. Ignore this paralyzing guilt. Just stay
alive. Keep moving. Keep cliiiiimbing.

My
knees were at an all-time burn.

I
tripped on a rock and slid down the hill, screaming. I saw myself
hitting that stream, my neck turned all the way around with my eyes
all shocked at how bad a climber I was. But that didn't happen.
Luckily, a tree hit me right between the legs. I was saved. Sore, but
saved.