Our Undead (39 page)

They had only been walking
for less than a day, but Margaret's skin had redeveloped its
beautiful golden tan. It's covered in brush marks of dirt and oil,
but it makes her look rugged and strong like some sort of commando
or modern amazon. Not at all prissy, the pink bandana she wears to
match Billy's black one gives her a nice splash of femininity. He
starts not minding so much that it was clearly a horrible choice
for camouflage purposes, and he only wishes that he could see
through the black-white and grey cargo pants she is wearing. But
all it takes is for him to think back to two nights before, when
she came back out from washing up in nothing but these tight
fitting, white cotton short shorts, fuzzy blue bunny slippers, and
an over-sized Iron Maiden t-shirt that hung so low, one might
wonder if she was wearing any shorts at all. The only reason Billy
knew that she was wearing them was because he asked her why she
wasn't wearing any, and she proved him ignorant. Luckily, he was
playing the game. It gave him a reason to look away when she pulled
up her giant band tee to show.

But goodness, did Margaret
have beautiful legs. So long, milky and smooth with the perfect
shape, not too skinny and perfectly supple. So soft, Billy thinks
to himself, and in letting his imagination run away with sensual
thoughts of Margaret, he begins to feel flush. He would be turning
beet red were he not already dark in skin tone. Margaret has no
idea what he is feeling. She has no idea that his chest is
beginning to feel as though it's been hallowed out and that his
breaths are becoming more and more shallow. She has no idea of the
tingling going on in his loins and on his palms… but why would
there be a tingling on his palms? Is that a normal arousal
response?

Suddenly, Billy's thoughts
change from Margaret's blonde hair, blue eyes, and pleasing
physical attributes, to his hands that are still pressed flat
against the ground. The tingling sensation in them feels all too
palpable to be anything triggered by his emotions. He lifts the
right one from the pavement and for a moment, studies his own palm.
Nothing has changed visually, but the buzzing is no longer there,
so he switches, putting his right palm back to the ground and
looking at his left one. Again, the buzzing in his lifted palm
stops, but he also no longer feels anything with his right, which
is placed back on the ground. What the hell was that? Intrigued, he
hops up on to his knees and places both palms on the ground
again.

Margaret:
What is this?

He's too concentrated to
even hear what she says. To Margaret, it looks like he's pretending
to be a dog sniffing the ground, but in actuality, he is feeling
it, and soon the tingling returns.

Billy:
There it is.

Margaret:
There what is? What are you doing?

Billy:
I
feel a vibration… In the ground.

Margaret:
What do you mean? Like a…

Billy:
Like a soft prickling in my hand… It feels like it's coming
from this way. Behind us.

Margaret:
(chuckles)
What? How can you
tell that?

Billy:
The
prick is stronger in the tips of my fingers than on the bottom of
my hand.

Margaret:
I didn't know you could do that.

Billy:
Neither did I. Wait… It's weird now. It's… scattered… all
over my hand.

Margaret:
What does that mean?

Billy:
I'm
thinking… it's either a mild earthquake or… No, it couldn't
possibly be heavy vehicles. These roads are too crowded for that.
I'm beginning to feel like we're being...
surrounded.

Margaret:
Surrounded by…?

Billy:
……

Margaret:
But how?

Billy gets up to his
feet.

Billy:
The
Zombie Queen… Jesus, I think she
is
tailing us. She brought a
horde to the store, and now…

Margaret:
First of all, it's 'The Queen of the Zombies', and we torched
the hell out of that store. Besides, how could they be surrounding
us? How could they be coming from both sides?

Billy:
We
never stayed to make sure that they were all dead… and.. maybe
it's… her scream. Maybe she's communicating with the other zombies
somehow. The sound could travel through the air for God knows what
distance.

Margaret:
That sounds crazy, but… maybe it would be best if we got
moving…like,..
off
this highway.

Billy:
Yea, maybe, but let me just see if I can...

Billy barely finishes his
sentence as he hops up on to the hood of the car that he was
leaning against, and then up on to its roof. He narrows his eyes
into a squint and peers into the distance of the road ahead, the
road they would be travelling. To the untrained eye the undulating
visions on the horizon might look like a mirage or refractions of
heat rising from the pavement, but to Billy's keen sight, it is
clear that a ridiculously large mob of the undead is on the highway
heading right for them. He turns and looks back down the road from
which they came. Again, the lanes are crammed from guardrail to
guardrail with what looks like a swarm or shadow engulfing the
abandoned cars as it creeps ever closer to them.

Billy:
Aw
shit… We
are
being surrounded. I can see them closing in on us from both
sides.

Margaret:
We
have
to get off this highway!
Billy!
Let's go!

Margaret is right, so Billy
looks to the left of the highway and sees that there is an open
field with lush green grass that stretches for miles. He looks to
the right of the highway and observes that the same flat field
continues on the other side, but this time the lush green grass
meets up with the edge of a rich forest of tall trees and bush. It
looks to be almost a mile away, quite far, but they would need the
cover, and the undersides of these cars wouldn't suffice this time
around, especially if they were literally being hunted. Decided, he
jumps off the roof and grabs his bag.

Billy:
All
right. This way.
C'mon!

All three work their way
through the maze of cars, Margaret pulling Abe along, to the side
of the highway that overlooks the field and forest. Billy gets
there first and looks over the edge. Margaret catches up, does the
same and becomes stricken with internal conflict. Below them, on
the other side is a grassy incline that descends into the flat
lush. The field is so very vibrant and shimmering emerald in the
glow of the golden sun, it's the most beautiful sight she has seen
in a long while. The only problem is the vertical drop from the
road to the grass incline, a fall that looks to be about thirty
feet, fifty once the vertigo kicks in.

Billy:
If
we make it to those trees, we might be able to throw those things
off of us.

Margaret:
And just how do you propose we get over
there?

Billy looks down the
thirty-foot drop and braces himself for it.

Margaret:
No! No, no, no, no, no. We can't jump down this thing.
There's
got
to be another way.

Billy:
There isn't. Look, you'll be fine if you just land properly.
Go with the momentum, keep your knees bent and try to follow
through. Fall into a roll. Just watch me, okay? I'll go
first.

He hops up on to the
railing, takes his bag off and tosses it, along with his bow,
cautiously over the side. They both land and cascade to a safe stop
on the grassy hill below, bow and arrows intact.

Billy:
Okay.. Here I go.

Margaret:
Be careful.

Billy:
I
will.

He takes a few breaths to
steady his nerves, then the brave boy flings himself over the edge.
Margaret watches him glide down and land on the grassy hill with a
thud. He rolls about half way down before finally coming to a stop.
For a moment, he lays there motionless.

Margaret:
BILLY! ARE YOU OKAY?!

A few seconds later, she
sees some movement, and Billy slowly gets up to his feet. He
brushes himself off while rushing back up to where his bag had
landed, closer to where the pavement meets the grass. Picking it
up, he calls out to Margaret.

Billy:
Okay! It's your turn! Do it!

Margaret:
Uh… Okay, all right! Heads up!

She tosses her bag over.
It lands safely, then she gets up on to the guardrail and tries to
get centered. It looks incredibly high from on top. Even though
she's never been particularly afraid of heights, she is not at all
excited about what she is going to have to do. She isn't even all
together sure if she
can
do it.

She may not have, had she
not looked down the road to the right to see the mass of undead
bodies that were crawling steadily toward them. All of them still
fairly hard to see, Margaret can only make out their bobbing heads
and their dark figures swallowing up more and more of the road that
lay in between them. To think, if they had continued walking, they
would have run into that mob in the next ten to fifteen
minutes.

And then, to her left, she
looks down the path they had come. Closer this time, is another
massive horde. She can see this group much clearer than the one
ahead, their swinging arms and their exaggerated, lunging steps.
Hundreds upon hundreds of them, a little less than ten minutes
behind. To think, if they had sat where they had been resting for
five minutes longer, they would have been zombie food for sure. And
then, she begins to hear the all too familiar sound of their wild
chattering and depressing groans starting to fade into the
atmosphere.

Billy:
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!

Billy's voice brings her
back to the fall. It still looks staggeringly high, impossible
even, but what choice does she have?

Margaret:
Okay…
Here I
come!

Billy:
Remember, keep your knees bent, and just relax! Try not to
land too hard on your ankle!

She crouches down and
prepares to jump

Margaret:
Okay. It's okay. I can do this. You can do this Margaret.
One… Two… Oh fuck, this is insane.
BILLY, THIS IS INSANE!

Billy:
You have no choice, Margaret!!! Jump or
die!!!

Margaret:
I might die if I jump!!

Billy:
No, you won't!!! Look at me!!! I'm fine!! Now, stop being a
little baby and jump!!! On three!! I'm counting you
off!!!

Margaret:
All riiight!!! Count slow!!!

Billy:
K, let's just do this!!! ONE!

Margaret eases herself into
jumping position, takes a deep breath, and tries to
relax.

Billy:
TWO!

She bounces lightly up and
down in her crouched position, getting ready for Billy to call out
the last number, but in it's place comes the crescendo of a
high-pitched, banshee like shriek that rises to such a height in
volume that it feels like several knives of ice have been plunged
into Margaret's spine. It makes her look to the left, in the
direction from which the scream had come, just as Billy calls out
the last number.

Billy:
THREE!!!

With her nerves, shaken and
confused, Margaret makes an uncoordinated leap off the side of the
highway. She plummets down toward the grassy hill and lands exactly
how she isn't supposed to, almost directly on her freshly healed
ankle. She rolls less than a metre or two before stopping, and
cries out in pain, a scream almost as chilling as her undead
antagonist. Billy doesn't have to run far to meet her.

Billy:
Margaret!!!
God, are you okay?!?
I told you to follow through!

Margaret:
Ugh, my ankle…
Argh!
… I fucked it again. It's
fucked...

Billy:
Here, lemme see.

Billy takes a closer look
and sure enough, the ankle looks much worse off than it had been
the first time around, clearly twisted, and possibly
broken.

Billy:
Oh,
man…

Margaret:
I heard her… When I was about to jump, I heard her scream…
It… threw me off.
AAARGH!!!
God, what the hell?!