Our Undead (32 page)

Margaret:
Wait?! For how long?

Billy:
Until we find out how many there are and what kind of people
we're dealing with. Just make sure you and Abe stay out of sight…
and from now on keep the talking to a minimum.

Margaret nods silently. She
can tell by Billy's face and vocal tone that he has slipped back
into survival mode. She can even feel, in her own body, the
tenseness returning to her chest and neck; stress caused by harsh
living, and a reminding taste of the bitter reality they actually
live in. The voices grow louder, letting them know that the
strangers, who sound like men, are getting closer. Soon enough,
they are able to make out what is being said.

Man1:
Where d'ya think they went?

Man2:
I
dun know, but take a look at dis mess, wudjah? And you saw dem dead
zombies layin' around. Dere's anudda one. They musta tried tah stay
here but got surprised attacked and split or sumthin'. Maybe
dhey're dead.

Man1:
Lucky fer us. Dis place is all ours now.

Man2:
Lucky f'dem. They didn't run into us. Heh
heh.

Billy signals to Margaret
with his fingers that there are two people out on the floor. She
nods to let him know that she understands, then he signals her to
wait again.

Man1:
Wow,
look at this fuckin' mess; chairs, vidia games and a TV setup.
These guys had it nice before dey left, eh Sam?

Sam:
Sure
Tully, but fuck em. This place is awes now.

Margaret scoffs to herself,
not quite under her breath, and Billy quickly turns to her with a
finger on his lips reminding her to be quiet. She gives him a weak
apology without words, throwing in more "calm down" gestures than
apologetic ones. In her mind the new arrivals sound like
simpleminded thugs. When she hears them talk, her mind instantly
pictures The Joker's goons from any of the Batman movies or shows.
All she can keep wondering to herself is what the hell are New
Yorkers doing in Oregon, and what makes them think they can just
waltz right in and steal her home, although temporary. She finds
herself becoming more annoyed than scared.

Believing that the
strangers are now in visual range, Billy cautiously peeks around
the corner with one eye. His keen senses once again prove him
right, and in less than two seconds Billy sees two rough'n'tumble
looking men come out from the entertainment section that he had
just made a mess out of. There is one large fellow, sort of chubby
but more so just big boned and a smaller, skinnier man with a
harder face. They wear the normal zombie apocalypse attire of a
tattered t-shirt and jeans. The bigger one wears a sleeveless jeans
jacket.

Tully:
Holy shit, they got everything here! When's the last time you
saw dese?

The bigger man holds up a
few CDs and a pair of sampler headphones and shakes it excitedly at
his partner's face.

Sam:
Ah,
put that down, ya idiot. This whole outbreak only started like tree
weeks ago. You're MPtree player only died a couple days ago. Drop
dat, will ya? Let's check the resta dis place
out.

Billy is surprised to learn
that the heavier voice belongs to the smaller guy and the lighter
voice belongs to the big one. It's quite comical, like your classic
loony tunes mobster type sketch, but the expression on Billy's face
would never let on that that is what he's thinking. He watches as
the smaller, more serious man walks away from his friend, coming
toward their hiding spot to do more exploring. The big fellow
dismisses his colleague, disregarding his negative remarks with a
contemptuous wave of his hand and puts on the headphones. Billy
withdraws his single eye back behind the cover of the
wall.

Billy:
They've got knives and the smaller man has a
bat.

Margaret:
What do you think we should do?

Billy:
I'm
not sure yet, but something tells me we won't be able to live with
these guys. At least, not easily.

Margaret moves Billy out of
her way and takes her own turn peeking around the corner. She sees
the bigger man dancing along to whatever he is listening to on the
headphones, but there is no sign of the smaller man. She brings her
head back in and out of sight.

Margaret:
Where's the other one?

Billy:
They separated. He's walking around.

Margaret takes one more
look around the corner at the big dancing man again and then brings
it back in to Billy.

Margaret:
You're right; we can't live with these guys. That one guy has
assholian hoodlum written all over him.

Billy:
What do you propose we do? Maybe it would be best to just
hide out for the night, wake up early so we can get our stuff then
leave.

Margaret:
Hmmm… I don't know about that.

Margaret looks around the
corner once again, and this time, really takes in her subject. Soon
it becomes clear to her that there is no other solution. She pulls
her head back in and makes her proposal to Billy.

Margaret:
I think we have to kill them.

Billy:
What?!

This time Margaret is the
one that has to hush Billy and remind him to keep it down. The
surprise on Billy's face throws her off for a moment, but she
stands her ground.

Margaret:
Just hear me out. Do you wanna go out there and try talking
to these guys? You really think we'll be able to reason with them;
me, a seventeen year old girl, and you? No offence, cause you're
like the smartest human I've ever met, but you're only fifteen.
They won't take us seriously.

Her explanation starts to
sink in for the boy.

Billy:
You
might be right.

Margaret:
You know I'm right. And to be quite frank with you Billy, I
don't want to chance sneaking around or even being anywhere near
these guys. The world has already gone to hell, and I'm not trying
to get raped on top of that, all right?

That fact alone puts the
little heroic boy almost completely on Margaret's side.

Billy:
So…
what are you going to do?

Margaret:
How about your bow and arrow?

Billy:
It's out there.

Margaret:
You think you can get it without being
seen?

Billy:
Maybe, but I don't know if I can shoot a human in the head,
Margaret.

Margaret:
Why not? It's the same thing. Just pretend they're zombies.
This is war and these are bad, bad men.

Billy:
Even so, I can't pretend. These guys are obviously still
alive, and I don't know them personally. I just… don't know if I
have it in me. Actually,.. I know I don't have that in
me.

Margaret sighs and starts
thinking of other ideas. She doesn't blame Billy for being a little
apprehensive. She, herself, doesn't think she could go through with
killing them either. Killing zombies is one thing, but killing a
live human that bleeds red and screams in pain is another. And that
is when another light bulb goes of in the clever girl's
head.

Margaret:
What if I send Abe?

Billy:
Margaret…

Margaret:
Hey, you said he needs human flesh anyway. This is the
perfect chance for him to get some, uh, "real
nutrients".

Billy:
This is just all together weird, and I don't want to be apart
of it, and I can't believe I'm about to say this but… if you're
going to go through with this, using Abe is probably the best
way.

Margaret:
Right? At least we keep our hands clean.

Billy:
Too
bad we won't be able to say the same for our consciences and
souls.

Margaret:
Forget about that. This is war. It's every man for
themselves, survival of the fittest. All that
stuff.

Billy:
(sighs)
What if they kill him
first? He's only one zombie.

Margaret:
Damn. Good point.

She looks around the corner
again. The big man is still humming and dancing to the tune in his
headphones.

Margaret:
We have to do it now, while they're
separated.

With a Billy-like
briskness, Margaret takes Abe and pushes him out into the opening
of the entrance of the Layaway and Returns Department, in plain
view of the big man. All the man would have to do is look up and to
the left, and he would see Abe wobbling there, but he is much too
involved in his music.

From their hiding spot
around the corner, Margaret tries to get Abe to follow his perhaps
forgotten instincts. She hopes upon hope that he hasn't lost his
taste for humans completely.

Margaret:
Abe, go... Eat.

Abe stares at her blankly
as she waves him in the direction of his waiting meal. She even
does a little dramatization, pretending to take a bite out of
Billy's neck. He shrugs her off.

Margaret:
Go. Fetch. Eat.

She jabs her index finger
at the big guy, and Abe turns his attention to him.

Margaret:
Eat. Eat. Fetch, dammit.

All of a sudden, Abe begins
casually walking toward the man. Margaret breathes a sigh of
relief.

Billy:
What if he gets noticed?

Margaret:
Shush. Abe'll make it.

She pokes an eye around the
corner and sees that Abe is almost about half way to his
target.

Margaret:
Come on, come on. Go faster.

He doesn't go any faster,
but his pace is steady. The bulky fellow shows no signs of
consideration for anything but what he is listening to. He even
seems to be getting more into it. Margaret can hear him singing
some of the lyrics.

Tully:
I
wanna ride it
aaaall night
long
! Duuh, duuuuh, duuuh! If you're
going my way, na na na naa na
all night
long
!

Margaret:
Oh, my God. He's almost there.
Aaalmost.

Abe is not but three steps
away from the man when the thug finally sees something moving in
his peripheral.

Tully:
O-oh, Jesus!!!

But he doesn't even enough
time to take the headphones off before Abe has taken a strong hold
on him.

Off in the hunting section
of the store, the large man's smaller partner is admiring the guns
and knives.

Sam:
Ho
ho, boy. We really did hit the jackpot on this one. Hey Tully, get
over here and look at this!!

Obviously, Tully doesn't
hear him with the headphones still blaring Tom Cochrane in his
ears. Sam, the smaller thug, could probably spend the rest of the
night in this section, playing with the knives and testing out the
guns, but it is the bone-chilling scream from his friend that sends
him running out of the hunting aisle, his baseball bat tightly
clenched in his hand, ready for action.

Margaret sees when the man
comes barreling out of the aisle and must take witness of his
friend already on the ground getting his neck and torso eaten out
by Abe. He skids to a stop at first and is frozen at the
sight.

Sam:
Tully… aw, no... no…

A myriad of emotions run
through the little tough man's body; confusion, skepticism, fear,
loneliness, sorrow, anger, and then unbridled rage. Margaret can
see it all clearly from her hiding spot behind him, in the way his
whole body tightens up and his grip squeezes around the handle of
the bat. She can tell he is about to take action.

Sam:
TULLY!!!!

Margaret:
Oh, shit.

Billy:
What's wrong?

Margaret doesn't have time
to answer Billy's question as the disgruntled Sam starts toward
Abe, first at a moderate pace then into a light jog. He means to
spill the zombie's rotten brains all over the music sampling
display for what it has done and is still doing to his buddy. But
it would be a cold day in hell before Margaret let anything happen
to her now beloved pet, who is becoming more like a
friend.

She snaps into action and
darts out of her hiding spot in a full out sprint, following behind
the man while unsheathing her own knife, an unused one she had
chosen from the store's stock the night before. Billy watches on in
a sort of horror as she charges after the man.