Only The Dead Don't Die (30 page)

“This way,” Justin turned down the first residential street practically dragging Ella with him. He had bypassed this street earlier due to a mini-horde. Luckily it was gone now.

They ran, ignoring the few stragglers that had finally found their way to the street, probably lost inside these houses for months until now, suddenly motivated by the zombie-truck’s revving engine and screeching tires. And somehow, Ella kept up the pace and even more unbelievable; she didn’t totally freak-out.

As they ran by house after house, Justin finally found the house type he was searching for. Then he spotted the mini-horde. The entire horde lurched to an abrupt stop almost simultaneously when it saw Justin and Ella. Each one of
them
cocked
their
scuzzy heads from Ella to Justin and then jerked their heads to the street corner. Justin stared at the horde in a bizarre “you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it” moment, for the horde seemed to be making a decision, an extremely difficult decision: choosing between the two of them or the zombie-truck at the end of the block.

The zombie-truck better not come down this street . . . To Justin’s horror, the truck screeched around the corner and headed straight towards Ella and him.
Holy Shit, the Z-truck’s coming for us!
The zombies groaned, apparently deciding against Ella and him and began reeling
their
way towards the approaching truck. The horde scrambled between them and the Z-truck. With any luck, any freakin’ luck at all, the horde had blocked Paxton’s view, and Justin fretfully wished for the invisibility superpower again.

“Behind that car!” The Z-truck zipped by the car they were hiding behind, and Justin watched in awe how the Zs lusted after it—instead of them. “Holy shit, you ever notice what short attention spans Zs have—like the size of an ant,” Justin said, staring in amazement as all the Zs did the hokey pokey down the middle of the street, trying to catch the Z-truck.

“Was that Paxton?” Ella asked?

“Ye-ah,” Justin whispered, catching his breath.

“Did he see us?” Her words came out as a mere whimper, but at least she was
not
crying.

“Don’t think so,” he said. But, he really wasn’t sure yet.

They waited for the last zombie to turn the corner, hustling its way towards the sounds of the long-gone Z-truck.
You gotta stop calling it a zombie-truck, you’re freakin’ yourself out.

“Awesome,” Justin whispered, “Paxton didn’t see us or he’d be back by now.”

“There,” Justin pointed to a brown Spanish-styled, stucco house across the street, “That’s what I’m looking for.” He was elated.
Finally, a house with a flat roof.
Ella gave him a look like he had totally flipped-out.

He took off running across the street, practically dragging her with him, and they stopped on the garage side of the house, out of plain site.

“Stay here. Yell, if you see anything coming from the front,” Justin said briskly. Ella merely nodded.

Justin snuck to the back of the house instantly relieved; it was clear of Zs. Unfortunately for him, the back door was locked. He ran back to get Ella. “OK, you stand guard right here on the back porch,” he said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I’ll go inside to make sure it’s zombie-free,” the words rushed out in a breathless gasp. He grabbed a rock from the flower garden and began banging on the kitchen window, wincing every time the rock clamored against the glass.

“Like, maybe it’s not even locked. Mama always keeps—kept the kitchen window unlocked because she couldn’t undo the little lock thingy,” Ella said incredulously.

“I’m so sure,” Justin said and pulled up on the window frame to show her. The window slid up.

“Silly, what would you do without me,” she giggled.

“Ah, women . . .” he sighed, shaking his head. “OK, stay here for a minute,” he said. His nimble body climbed inside over the kitchen sink.

“But, what if a zombie—” her voice trailed off.

“Duh, then scream,” he said, giving her one of his best smirks. He heard the panic in her voice, but ignored it, knowing that their precious daylight was almost gone. He needed to find them a safe place for the night.
Like now!
He unlocked the back door and popped his head out to her, “Back in a sec—” He grabbed a knife from the butcher block.

***

Ella paced about the back patio biting her fingernails down to the quick until she felt a pinch and tasted the blood of a nail bitten down too far. She found herself jumping at every minuscule sound as the wind wrestled with the remnants of last autumn’s leaves that had never been raked, and she wondered if they ever would be raked.

Gradually the sounds changed, a series of different noises, sounds she found unnerving.
Is it coming from the front yard
? A putrid scent wafted in the breeze. A skunk, she thought.

“What’s taking him so long?” Ella murmured. A rustling sound from the other side of the house got the best of her. She had to know if it was just the leaves blowing in the wind before she screamed for help. She was already so embarrassed for acting like such a baby in front of Justin. She made up her mind; she was
so
not going to start screaming—only to find out it was only leaves.

She clutched the rosary beads around her neck and slowly mustered the courage to peek around the other side of the house. And then she finally did. Ella covered her mouth to stifle a scream. There, only a few feet away, a zombie thrashed about pounding its head over and over against the fence, its back to her. For a moment she froze, transfixed in sheer terror; she hadn’t been this close to one since that day—that, that ungodly day.

She flashbacked to the day the world ended for her and everyone she had ever loved. Gruesome images flooded her. Those hellish demons forever imprinted in her mind; the agonizing pain of knowing she could have saved mama, if only she had reacted, instead of just staring like a complete idiot, which she was doing this very instant.

Ella tried to move. She tried to turn around and run, but her feet refused to move. The disgusting thing, stood there banging its head repeatedly against the fence in what looked like a feeble attempt to free its ankle from a small hole in the bottom of the fence. How long had it been trapped there—bashing in its own head, trying to get its ankle unstuck? From the looks of the ankle, raw to the bone, it could have been there since August. She gasped at the thought.

The creature abruptly stopped its erratic head-banging and stiffened. It lifted its mangy head to the sky and seemed to be snorting the air. Suddenly, its entire body spasmed-out. Its mangy head twisted around 180-degrees without moving its torso, twisting eerily around until Ella could see its nose-less face snorting at the air. Its reddish-greenish rotting flesh seemed to be disintegrating, and a black-hole where the nose should be was just a hollowed space. Then, the horrid thing saw her. Their eyes locked. Eyes black as death flashed and swirled, and its body quaked, rippling the entire section of redwood fencing. After God knows how long, a plank of the fencing snapped out of its perfect placement—just enough.

Justin . . .

Ella opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t feel her feet. The ungodly creature let out a bloodcurdling groan that made her knees collapse and the hairs on her arms stood straight up as if electrified. Then it lunged at her, but it must have forgotten that it had only turned its head, not its body, causing it snap back like a rotten rubber band, and it crash into the fence. Now on the ground, no longer bound to the fence, it didn’t bother to stand up. It crawled its way towards her. Its fleshless, boney fingers dug into the moist ground, inching its way to her with black-blank eyes—longing to devour her bite by bite.

Ella swayed about and shut her eyes, squeezing them tightly. She felt it clawing at her feet—she felt herself falling to the ground—she heard the dried autumn leaves crunching under her body—she smelled the putrid smell of death. Then it was tugging at her shoulders. It tossed her around on the cold, damp, winter ground. A series of swishing and swooshing sounds followed. And then . . . then she felt something hot and wet and slimy.

And all the while she prayed:
Please let this be over quickly . . .

***

Justin knelt beside Ella, tears blurring his vision at the site of all the blood splattered over the entire left side of Ella’s body. He lovingly picked up her frail pixie-like body, carried her inside the house and placed her on the living room’s couch. He sat on the floor next to her, his eyes glazed over, wishing it hadn’t had taken him so long to search the house.
Why did I leave her alone?
But, he didn’t want to take her inside without first making sure it was safe. If a horde had been inside, he really didn’t think he could save the two of them. So he sat there grieving. Waiting for her to turn. And, when she
did
turn—wondering if he’d be able to de-activate her.

Justin lost track of time while he sat on the hardwood floor next to Ella.
How long does it take?
Finally, her body stirred. She mumbled and twisted about on the couch. Suddenly her body sprang up, gurgling sounds spouted from her mouth and puke spurted from her lips. His heart frosted-over. It felt like shards of broken icicles piercing his heart, piercing his soul.

“Justin, don’t ever leave me alone like that again!” Her brows furrowed. She was definitely pissed.

“Huh?” Justin shrieked. He started laughing. “Ella, you’re OK?”

“Ugh, do I look OK? I got zombie-goo all over me. That smell is absolutely disgusting,” she gagged and puked again on the side of the couch.

“I mean, you’re not a zombie?”

“Maybe just a little bit,” she snarled, raising a claw-like hand.

“Ella, that’s
so
not funny.”

“That’ll teach you
not
to leave your girl alone in this zombie-infested-world!”

“OK, I get it. Uh, you need to shower, like now,” he said, pinching his nose closed. “And, I need to get rid of that Z, the one that almost nailed you. If Paxton sees it—it’ll give away our hiding place.”

“Why here? Scarlett told us to go to Reno?” Ella asked, wiping off zombie guts with her shirt.

“I’ll explain later,” he said in a nasal tone, still pinching his nose. He led her to the bathroom. “There’s still water in the hot water tank, so you can take a quick shower, but the water is gonna be hecka cold,” he warned.

“Anything to get rid of this zombie-goo!”

“OK, I’ll leave you to your business, we’ll talk later,” Justin said, handing her a fluffy, green bath towel from the linen closet.

“No!” she screamed.

“What? What’s wrong?” He scrammed back to the bathroom, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Don’t leave me,” she started to cry.

“Uh, OK, sure.” He suddenly realized how frightening this whole thing had been for her. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to come in. I’ll sit on the toilet seat. We can, uh, talk.”

“OK, you can come in. H-holy C-crap, it’s f-friggin’ cold,” her words came out in shivering gasps.

Justin sat on the closed lid of the toilet while she took a shower. He felt sort of awkward, yet at the same time, it felt rather wonderful, like they were a normal married couple.

Justin rambled on about his plan. He thought it best to wait here for a few days, maybe a few weeks until Paxton and Nate gave up on them. If they headed to Reno or Vacaville now, they might run into Paxton and Nate. And if he could find a CB radio, he could try to contact Dean and Luther.

Justin heard the faucet handle squeak off. He watched as the green towel draped over the seashell shower curtain slowly disappeared to the other side. Suddenly all he could think about was that the girl he loved was just on the other side of that flimsy, plastic, shower curtain, and she was completely naked, except for the towel. Down boy, he scolded his lower body. Suddenly his body seemed to have urges he couldn’t control.

He’d never been into girls, and his father had always been concerned that he might be gay. Justin had never really cared one way or the other, until now. He certainly couldn’t come-on to Ella now—not after what she had just been through. Ella swept the shower curtain aside and stood there wrapped in the fluffy, green towel, water still dripping from her hair: he was mesmerized.

“Seriously? We’re going to live on the roof—that’s so cuh-ray zee, but kinda cool,” she said, stepping out of the shower and turned around to fiddle with the shower curtain.

He sat there, transfixed, watching each water droplet dribble down her pixie-short hair to the nape of her neck to her shoulder, then down her shoulder and melt into the towel. He so wished he could be one of those water droplets.

She was done fiddling with the shower curtain and turned around, facing him. “Justin, like what’s wrong with you?” she said completely oblivious to the effect
she had on him. “Duh, I need some clothes,” she moaned, staring at him like he was a total idiot.

“Ye-ah, I’m on it,” he said, dashing out, glad for an excuse.

He ransacked the master bedroom’s walk-in closet and found a set of flannel pajamas.
Maybe if she wears these ugly, striped, flannel pajamas, it’ll get rid of my crazy thoughts and desires.