Our Undead (21 page)

Read Our Undead Online

Authors: Theo Vigo

Tags: #adventure, #zombies, #apocalypse, #zombie, #living dead, #undead, #walking dead, #outbreak, #teen horror

BOOK: Our Undead
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Still dodging and slicing
the tendons of the undead, Billy Tell realizes that he has not had
to dodge or slice a tendon for some time. He stops for a moment, as
it seems he has made it to the break in the hoard. He knows he
doesn't have much time so he moves fast, slinging his bag around to
his front and pulling out three grey sticks of dynamite.

Margaret grows tired. The
zombie on top of her is ravenous, and she can't get a good enough
footing, for her legs are tangled up atop the dead body of her
previous attacker. There's no way she can get this one off of her
with both of her hands occupied, holding the flailing wrists of the
beast. It's a wonder that she's managing to avoid getting her face
bitten off with the lack of visibility. She moves her head from
right to left, every time, in the knick of time.

Margaret:
Shit… Get!… Off!

It's no use until Margaret
remembers the ace up her sleeve. She thinks to call Abe for help,
but before she can get a word out, she sees Abe already standing
above her. He reaches down and sticks his fingers into her
attacker's mouth, grabbing the snarling zombie by its upper jaw. It
sputters and bites down on Abe's hand as it gets lifted off of
Margaret who dashes out and away from the two rotting men. She gets
to her feet and watches as Abe takes the zombie's lower jaw with
his other hand and proceeds to rip the monster's mouth apart. When
finished, Abe throws the separated lower half of the jaw aside and
flings the rest of the zombie over to Margaret. It stumbles toward
her and falls to its knees right in front of her. The bottom half
of it's face is gone, but it still pursues her. Before it can grab
her, she gives it a forward kick, sending it to the ground closer
to where Abe stands and jumps it with her knife. When it stops
writhing, she gets off of it and grabs her duffel bag.

Margaret:
Wait'll Billy hears about thi--

Before she finishes her
sentence, yet another zombie comes forth from the tall leaves. It
scares the shit out of her, but this time she is ready and makes
quick work of it. Now, three dead zombies lay on the flattened
surface of stalks before her and Abe.

Margaret:
Maybe we should get out of here. Come on Abe, let's keep
moving.

Margaret tucks away her
knife and takes Abe by the wrist, about to lead him further in the
direction Billy in which had told them to go, when she hears
another sound approaching fast. She turns around and takes her
knife back out, ready to attack, but the
thing
turns out to be Billy. He is
coming at them fast, and it doesn't look like he plans on
stopping.

Billy:
Run!

Margaret:
Why? What's going on?

Billy:
Just run!!

Margaret puts her knife
away, grabs Abe's arm and her duffel bag and follows behind Billy
as fast as she can. Not but five seconds later, she hears a
deafening blast that comes from behind them, and then another, and
then one more. The unexpected noise sends a chime down her spine
and creates mild tremors in the ground, causing Margaret to cringe
and come to a stop. She lets out a high-pitched yelp that catches
Billy's attention. She sees his little black head poke out from the
large stems ahead of her.

Billy:
Come on! Don't stop!

And just like that his head
vanishes again. Margaret snaps back into action. The last thing she
wants to do is to lose Billy in this zombie-ridden labyrinth of a
cornfield. The shortage of light makes it difficult to see, not to
mention having to drag Abe's unstable anatomy along behind her, but
Margaret does a fine job keeping up. She tries her best to follow
the sound of the lengths of stalk that Billy tramples over as he
runs, while also keeping a close eye on his speedy little figure.
She thinks to herself how lucky she is that the field is there to
regulate Billy's speed, otherwise he would have already left her in
the dust. She also thinks it weird that they are running. What is
there to run away from? Are the zombies, two hundred strong, hot on
their tails right now? She doesn't know, but she does think that
it's unlike Billy to just be running through this cornfield without
even half a drop of the caution he was exercising before. It just
doesn't seem smart to her. Perhaps Billy's plan didn't work out the
way he thought it would, and now they're in the middle of "Plan-B";
run like hell.

So this was the plan the
whole time then, to run recklessly away? They would've been better
off taking their chances in the woods. At least, that is what
Margaret thinks, and she
reall
y begins to believe that when
stray zombies begin to appear on their path. She didn't get to see
the first one, but she had heard the growl and the thump that sent
it to the ground. Half a second later, her and Abe are running over
it's still moving body. Soon she and her pet are running over
another felled zombie, and then another. She deduces that Billy is
running himself into the lost walkers as he runs. It seems like the
only explanation, especially after one tries to grab her out of
nowhere, and her first instinct is to knock it across it's face and
keep moving. It must've have also been Billy's first instinct.
Better to stick and move than fight it out in this mess.

It feels like they have
been running forever even though it's only been about two minutes.
With her ankle still not at one hundred percent, the voices of
doubt start to creep in earlier than usual. This is when Margaret
starts to breathe heavily, but she notices that Billy seems to be
moving slightly to the left now. They continue in that direction
and continue pushing over any stray ghouls that get in their way,
when suddenly, to her left, Margaret can see a dark grey cloud of
smoke rising and flames beginning to sprout from the field. The
fire looks like it's starting around the area in which they began
running, but Margaret doesn't take much time to take it in for fear
that she may lose partner in lead.

More ghouls surprise them
as they run blindly forward, but Billy continues to knock them
down, and Margaret, any that he misses. All is going as smoothly as
one can expect, running through a tall field full of zombies. The
count of the lost ones that they have to knock over is diminishing,
and with a quick check back, Margaret can see that the fire,
although more brilliant, is getting farther behind them. Yes, all
is as good as it can be, until Abe trips over the legs of one of
the zombies that Billy knocked over. He falls to the ground face
first and Margaret comes to an abrupt stop when she feels that
Abe's wrist has been ripped out of her grasp.

Margaret:
Billy, wait!!

She turns back for Abe,
pushing the browning vegetation aside, and uses all her strength to
get Abe up to his feet as fast as possible. However, she doesn't
remember the cause of his fall and doesn't notice that the other
zombie has already gotten to its feet. Abe is half way up now, and
Margaret's head is down as she pulls him with all her might. The
lost walker reaches out for the girl, who strains with her eyes
closed to get her odd friend to his feet. She pays no attention to
the undead hand that is centimetres away from her face, and she
doesn't need to. Billy springs out from the field of dead lush,
knocks the hand away and inserts his massive pocketknife into the
zombie's head, just in time. Margaret opens her eyes in
surprise.

Margaret:
Oh shit… Thanks.

Billy:
Come on. Come on
.

Margaret:
Right.

When Abe is almost stable
and to his feet, yet another walker comes upon them. It's a slight
shock, but Billy is quick to introduce knife to skull. As he brings
the stray to the ground, Margaret finally gets Abe back on his
feet.

Billy:
Hurry up!

Margaret:
All right! We're good! Go! Go!

Another zombie comes
through the thick at them, as they are about to start up again.
With a power unbelievable for a kid of his stature, Billy gives it
a body check, sending it flying backwards into the field where it
came from, and the three of them start running again. They wind up
having to strike down two more walkers before Margaret notices that
they have stopped making unplanned appearances. It is at this point
that she also notices that Billy is starting to curve to the left
again. They keep running until Margaret is naturally dumbstruck by
the sight of the dirt road they were previously on. She didn't know
if she'd ever see it again, and this is where Billy finally decides
to stop.

The sun is virtually set as
the three companions stand on the dirt road again. Two out of the
three of them are panting, trying to catch their breath. Now that
they have stopped to rest, even though she is out of breath,
Margaret feels that she had better ask Billy what is going on
before he decides to run off again.

Margaret:
(huffing)
Billy, what the hell
was that?

Billy:
Dynamite.

Margaret:
Dynamite?!

Billy:
Yea, I had six sticks of dynamite. Now I have
three.

She can't believe the boy
has dynamite, but there is nothing she can really put past him
anymore. To quell her doubt, which she knows is an idle one, she
turns back to witness a roaring fire of red and orange far off in
the distance where Billy had seen the majority of the hoard. It's
quite far back. In her head, Margaret assumes they must have run at
least three quarters the length of a football field. Billy is
definitely just as out of breath as she is, but she knows the
trouble has to be far from over. Why had he stopped running
then?

Margaret:
Shouldn't we keep going? Those things are probably still on
our asses.

Billy:
No.
Those zombies we just passed in there are not the ones we should be
worried about. We were running way too fast for them to keep track
of us in that field. When they get up, they'll be drawn to the
sound and the light of the flame. They'll walk into the fire and
take care of themselves. It's the walkers that
aren't
in the
field that we need to be worried about. All the zombies in the
surrounding area who heard that blast are heading this way right
now.

Margaret:
Well, that's fabulous. So, obviously, this isn't it, right?
You have another step to this plan, don't you?

Billy:
Yes.

Margaret:
(sighs)
Do
share.

Billy:
Our
best bet now is the woods, but we have to move slow. We'll search
out a small clearing in there where we can camp out quietly for the
night.

He takes a small flashlight
out of his knapsack, flicks it on and heads for the woods on the
opposite side of the dirt road. Margaret watches the boy walk away
with a slightly flustered look on her face.

Margaret:
Didn't I say we should go into the woods
earlier?

Billy turns
around.

Billy:
I
already explained that. We have a much better chance of surviving
this way. But we're not going to if we just stand here, so come
on.

Margaret agrees. What other
choice does she have? She follows Billy to the edge of the
forest.

Billy:
Remember to move slowly.

Margaret:
That won't be a problem. My ankle will make sure.. of…
that.

Before she sets her first
foot onto the forest floor, she turns to take one last look at the
spine-chilling scene she had just barely survived. It seems Abe has
had the same notion. Margaret sees him still standing close to
where they had just come out of the cornfield. His back is half
turned to her, and Margaret realizes that he is enthralled by the
magnificent light radiating from the fire. It's either that, or the
black smoke that rises high above the flames, like smeared black
paint across the navy blue canvass that is the speckled, new night
sky. But if what Billy said is true, Abe is fixated on the light.
It seems he is unable to relinquish all of his zombie instincts.
Margaret calls out to him in a harsh whisper.

Margaret:
Abe!……… Abe!
…...
Urgh.

Abe
either can't hear her or doesn't care. He can't take his eyes off
of the inferno that is now raging like a campfire run-wild. The
girl ends up having to drag him with her. She takes him by the
wrist again and pulls him toward the forest. Her stubborn pet keeps
his eyes locked on the flames as he gets tugged by his
self-professed guardian into the uncertain blackness of the forest
trees.

SECRETS

Hundreds of thousands of
feet underground, in a dark room lit only by a large hanging
computer monitor, a man sits in front of the screen. He is looking
at a map of the world, displayed across the screen's entire
surface. Staring intensely at North America, he watches as
thousands of small red dots fill up most of the western United
States and continue spreading into their neighboring
borders.

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