Our Undead (24 page)

Margaret:
Whoa-ho-ho there, buddy! Hold on just one minute. So what
you're trying to tell me is that his lack of energy is due to him
eating animals?

Billy:
Exactly.

Margaret:
Well, what is he supposed to eat then?!

Billy is silent. He feels
uncomfortable letting the word come out of his mouth, but all it
takes is to look into his eyes, and Margaret knows what he's
getting at.

Margaret:
Good Jesus… Humans?! You want me to feed him
humans?!

Billy:
It's the only thing I can think of. Why else would his
strength be dropping at a faster rate than would be
normal?

Margaret:
But.. but.. what's the difference? Blood is blood. You
remember that movie with that girl that fell in love with the
vampire.. and there was a werewolf after a while too. In that
movie, the good vampires sucked the blood of animals instead of
humans, and they were fine.

Billy:
Meh. I've never really been into the vampire thing,
especially after they were turned from monsters into… heart-throby
types. I like zombies, but yes, I do know the movie you are talking
about… but like you said yourself, this isn't some fairytale.
Zombies can't survive substituting animals for the good stuff. I
think it has more to do with the flesh, the brains maybe, not
necessarily the blood.

Margaret:
"The good stuff" he says.

Billy:
You
know what I mean. There could be some special nutrient in humans
that the zombie anatomy needs to thrive.

Margaret starts walking
backwards again.

Margaret:
Abe, say it ain't so! I don't know if I can… but I don't want
you to die… I guess it'll be okay if I just… Jesus, am I
really
considering killing humans?!

Billy:
Things
have
changed. You know it. I know it… Just don't
expect me to get involved if you choose to… you know. And if it
makes you feel any better, he's al.. ready…
dead…?

A sputtering type of sound
crescendos into the atmosphere around them, bringing Billy's
sentence to a patchy end. It soon becomes recognizable, the sound
of propellers, and all three travellers, even Abe, turn around to
look up at the golden red sky that stretches out behind them. It
doesn't take long for them to spot the helicopter that is fast
approaching the airspace above their heads. It is extremely high
up, but it isn't like any helicopter they have ever seen in their
normal lives. It looks like some sort of military
machine.

Margaret:
HEEELP!!!! WE'VE GOT THREE SURVIVORS DOWN HERE!!!!!
HELLOOOOOOOOO!!!! DOOOOWN HEEEEERE!!!!!! WE ~
*umph*

She finds a little black
palm covering her mouth. Billy's attempt to quiet her
down.

Billy:
Hey, relax.

But Margaret pushes both
him and his hand away and continues while the helicopter is exactly
over their heads.

Margaret:
OVER HEEEEERE!!!! WE'RE ALIIIIIIIVE!!!

But her efforts are
useless, as the helicopter has already flown over and past them,
way ahead of them on the same path they are travelling. Soon they
can no longer hear the buzzing of the propellers. A sweet wisp of a
memory from what seemed like ages ago had disappeared once again.
Billy stands to the side, watching Margaret as she finally decides
to bring her hands down from over her head. She had looked tired
before, but now she looks truly defeated.

Margaret:
What the fuck was that?!

Billy:
It
looked like some sort of army helicopter. Definitely not
normal.

Margaret:
No! I meant, what the hell were you doing?! You didn't
even
try
to get their attention.

Billy:
I
highly doubt that they could see us from that far up, and if they
could, I doubt even more that they would come down here and pick us
up.

Margaret:
But you didn't even try, dude!
(sighs)

Billy:
I…
don't have any intention of being saved, Margaret. My goal is set.
And to be honest with you, I don't think you want to be saved by
those guys.

Margaret:
Why the hell wouldn't I?

Billy:
I
don't think they would take very kindly to our undead friend
here.

Margaret looks back at Abe
who is still looking into the sky in front of them. She sighs,
knowing that Billy is probably right.

Margaret:
You don't know that for sure.

Billy:
But
why take the chance?

Margaret:
Food? Shelter?

Billy:
All
I wanna know is where that thing is going. It's heading the same
way that we are… Come on. Let's keep moving.

For thirty more minutes,
the three of them walk in complete silence. Billy had tried to keep
the conversation going before, but now all he can think about is
the pitch-black helicopter that had passed them. It was such a
curious sight and plagues his mind, but there's no way he's going
to bring that up again, not until Margaret has had some time to
cool off and forget about it. It just doesn't make sense to him. In
all of his research for the coming zombie apocalypse, he knows
where all of the military bases are located, and he knows to avoid
them. Regardless of what all of the texts may have said about
security and weaponry, he doesn't trust the government. It worries
him that they could be heading into some sort of concealed area on
hold by the armed forces, but he keeps that information to himself.
He just hopes upon hope that it doesn't interfere with his own
objectives.

Margaret:
Billy, this is getting ridiculous. My ankle is throbbing. We
need to stop.

Billy:
That wouldn't be too smart… not here.

He points beyond them, and
Margaret follows his finger to take in the large, four-lane tunnel
about fifty yards ahead of them.

Margaret:
No…… Why now? There's no telling how long that thing is gonna
be.

Billy:
I'm
sorry, Margaret. You can do it. I know you can. We'll just get past
this tunnel, and then rest. We'll go slowly,
okay?

Margaret:
No way. Forget going slow. Let's just do this, and get it
over with.

Without saying another
word, Margaret takes off, limping enthusiastically but with obvious
difficulty toward the mouth of the tunnel. Abe follows not far
behind, leaving a surprised Billy watching them continue on without
him. The girl could complain, but she had some gusto, that's for
sure. It's pretty refreshing and almost comedic to him. He follows
them into the tunnel just as headily.

<><><>

It doesn't take too long
for the darkness of the tunnel to take over their vision, and
Billy's little flashlight becomes an essential tool. Inside, the
air is thick and dusty, and smells like a mixture of copper, feces
and gasoline. To Margaret's surprise, Billy is the one who has to
try with all of his might to keep from vomiting all over himself
and the surrounding cars.

Margaret:
Someone has a weak stomach…

Billy:
I've never…
*belch*
… smelled…
*belch*
… anything like
this..
*belch*
… before.

Margaret:
Just keep it together, man. You want me to hold that light
for you?

Billy:
No.
I'll be…
*belch*
… fine.

The tunnel is filled to the
brim with cars, some empty, some with corpses still inside of them,
all contributing generously to the stench. Some of the cars are so
tightly packed in, and some so crushed together, that the crew has
to crawl over some of the cars. Billy goes first, followed by
Margaret, who helps Abe up and over, while Billy holds the light on
them. They actually have a pretty good system going, holding on to
each other's hands while they make their way carefully through the
dark. A little more than a quarter of the way through, they find a
car, and Margaret notices something different about the corpse
inside when Billy's light flashes over it.

Margaret:
Hey, stop for a second. Shine your light
here.

Billy shines his light
through the front window of a smashed up white car that still looks
relatively clean, a BMW that has rear-ended a black Civic. The
BMW's front is crammed up into the poor Civic's bumper, completely
wedged in. When his light hits the window, the figure that is
leaning it's head back in the seat, lifts itself up and begins
pawing at the glass. The zombie, a male, is dressed in a snazzy
black and white pinstriped suit that hangs limply on his
weight-forsaken body. He looks like a little boy wearing his
father's suit. Margaret and Billy assume silently and to themselves
that he must've been trapped in there since the beginning of this
whole thing.

Margaret:
Look at this guy. I wonder where he was off to all stylish
and infected. Maybe he just wanted to look good for his own
funeral… Hey.. Is that right? Just trying to look good for your
last hours, huh?

Margaret taps on the window
with her knuckle as she mocks the undead gentleman. The thing looks
very weak, so she has no fear that it might break through the
glass. It can only muster up enough strength to stoke it and moan
drearily at her.

Margaret:
Poor guy. It looks like he didn't get the chance to have a… I
don't know. What would you call it? A
post
last supper supper?
Billy?

She takes the flashlight
from the kid's hand and shines the light on Billy's face. The hand
that wasn't holding the light is covering his mouth and nose. His
sensitive gag reflex makes his whole body convulse about every five
seconds.

Margaret:
Ha ha, okay let's get out of this place before you blow
chunks.

Before she leaves, she
turns the flashlight back on to the trapped businessman. He's still
clawing weakly at the inside of the window, still moaning at
Margaret.

Margaret:
Okay, sir. We're leaving now. It was nice meeting you. I hope
you get to your business meeting safely. I'm sure your partners
won't mind you being a bit late… or a bit dead. Actually, they've
probably gotten down with the sickness too. I hear there's
something going around. Did you catch that? That was a System Of A
Down reference, but you've probably never listened to them. You
look like more of a Dustup slash L.M.F.A.O. type of guy. Is that
right? Do you listen to the Black Eyed Peas?

The trapped bastard can do
nothing but moan at her, to which she nods as if she can understand
him, as if she's window shopping at a pet store and poking fun at
the puppies inside. Then she feels something searching for her,
then something tugging urgently at her sleeve. The light reveals
that it is Billy. His hand is still covering his face, and he
motions for them to continue.

Margaret:
Hold on. Can't you see we're having a conversation here? What
was that trapped man?

The ghoul moans and paws,
paws and moans, while Margaret pretends to understand, nodding and
agreeing with its gibberish. It is when just one of his groans
seems to be a bit louder than usually, that Margaret finds some
weirdness in this situation, already overflowing with
it.

Margaret:
What was that?

The trapped zombie groans
again through the car window, and this time it seems even louder.
She doesn't even have enough time to ask again, before more
gurgling and murmuring can be heard all around her, first soft and
then building, and with the echoing, there is no way she can tell
which way the horde is coming from.

Margaret:
Uh, Bil..

Suddenly, she feels her
sleeve getting tugged again, this time yanked tremendously harder
and toward the ground. She soon finds herself under the same car of
the trapped zombie she had just been mocking. She flashes the light
and sees Billy's squinting eyes. He frantically mouths for her to
turn it off, and she complies.

Margaret:
What about Abe?

Billy:
He'll be… *belch*… He'll be fine.

They stay hidden under the
car, in the opaque darkness for what seems like forever, until the
sound of many rustling feet fade into the distance. Billy whispers
and pokes at Margaret for his flashlight, and she hands it over to
him. He turns it on, pointing it toward the ground at first then
slowly bringing the ray's focus to just outside the shelter of the
car. They see only one pair of legs, Abe's of course. Satisfied,
Margaret starts crawling out from under the car, but Billy pulls
her back in.