Wake Up Dead - an Undead Anthology (2 page)

“What, I can’t ask my wife who is eight and half month’s pregnant if she’s okay?”

“Yes, but you ask every twenty minutes.”

“But your stomach just made a noise.” Clare pointed at the protruding belly to prove her point.

“Stomachs do that on occasion.” Dana pretended to be exasperated, but in reality Clare knew she loved her playful nature, and it was a welcome distraction from the scenes they’d just watched.

Clare disappeared under the covers and started talking to Dana’s belly. Lifting the covers Dana raised an eyebrow.

“Excuse me, I’m having an important talk with our future daughter, Sydney, about what your stomach is up to.”

Dana laughed and threw down the covers.

“We’re not calling her that. Her name is going to be Lily.”

Clare lifted the covers and pouted.

“Sydney, doesn’t like that name at all, and naming your kid after a flower is not cool anymore. The sixties are gone my friend.”

“Ugh, I can never win with you.” Dana slowly removed the t-shirt she was wearing.

Clare watched every move.

“Would you mind rubbing my back, it’s killing me,” Dana said as seductively as possible.

“I know what this is, you think by being all naked and sexy I’ll give in and let you name our child Thistle or Root berry, but it isn’t going to work.”

Dana turned over so her bare breasts were exposed to Clare. All rational thought left her mind as she stared down at them.

“If I remember right, you’re a breast girl.”

“Yes, your breasts are fantastic; in fact at times I think they have super powers.”

“Hmm they do, now come here and kiss me.”

Clare leaned in, and with a hand gently placed on her wife’s belly, she started to kiss her.

*

Clare almost fell out of bed by the sound of blaring alarms, flashing lights, and screams of people outside. She ran to the window to see what was going on. The street lights were off, police cruisers were everywhere, and people were running around. She realized people were chasing others, and when they caught them, it ended with the pursuer gorging on their prey

“What is it?” Dana asked.

The people, the
infected
Clare thought, moved with purpose. The urgency of sirens and emergency lights only added to the bizarre nature of the situation. Clare tried to make out more details, but the strobe effect of the lights was making it difficult for her to focus.

“I’m not sure.”

Clare felt Dana behind her and reached back for her hand. At that moment, a figure appeared in the window, both women screamed. The thing raised a hand pounded on the window, a trail of blood left behind. Clare looked into the milky eyes and felt a chill take hold of her soul. She forced Dana to back up as the glass cracked.

Clare stood frozen in fear, the flesh on the things face fell off in large bits. The worst was the blood and gore around its mouth. She swore she saw a bit of skin stuck in its teeth, and a strand of what might have been intestine hung out of the left side of its mouth.

“Dana, get dressed.”

“I’m calling nine-one-one.”

Clare turned away from the window.

“We don’t have time, that thing is breaking through the window, and I don’t think we want to be here when it comes in.”

The window shattered and with a speed belying its corpse like appearance it rushed towards Clare. The thing tackled her, knocking her to the ground. In the background somewhere she heard Dana scream.

The thing pinned her down and snapped at her face, spittle flying all over the place. Instinctively, she turned her face away. She used every bit of strength she possessed to flip them over; once she was no longer pinned she jumped to her feet and looked for a weapon.

“Dana, get the hell out of here!” she yelled.

The thing was on its feet and ran towards her once again; she picked up a pair of scissors from the vanity and stabbed it in the stomach. Clare watched in morbid fascination as nothing happened, in fact it appeared as if the wound started to heal itself.

“Go for the head, you always have to go for the head,” Dana yelled.

Clare flashed an annoyed look at Dana, then grabbed a statue from the dresser and whacked it across the face of the infected thing. Unfazed, it continued to come at her. In the corner she saw a baseball bat, and leapt for it. She hefted it, and as soon as the thing was within swinging distance she struck it in the head.

The blow stopped it for a moment, and Clare took advantage of its disorientation. She lifted the bat above her head and swung down, hitting it in the direct center of its skull. The force of the impact ran all the way up her arms and into her shoulders.

Christ, what the hell are these things made of?

As the infected fell to the ground Clare looked over and saw Dana. With an irritated glare she pounded the thing’s head into a dark pulpy mess.

Clare watched more things break windows on other houses. Neighbours who went outside were swarmed, their screams for help went unanswered. A few cars tore out of their drive ways, and Clare knew she needed to get them the hell out of there.

“Dana, we need to get the hell out of here now.”

“Already on it.”

Clare looked and saw Dana holding a change of clothes and boots for the both of them. As another one of the infected approached their window, Clare ushered them out of the room.

Dana let out a scream and Clare saw another one pounding on the front door, the hinges coming loose from the wall.

Clare got behind Dana and led her to the garage door grabbing the car keys from the hook on the way out. She led Dana to the passenger side and handed her the keys.

“Wait for me in the car.”

“But--”

“Just go, I’ll be right back,” Clare insisted.

Looking into sleepy eyes so trusting and full of love, Clare leaned in and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Love you.”

Tilting her head, Dana looked at her and replied. “Love you too.”

Clare, went into the kitchen and grabbed anything and everything, shoving it into a bag. The sound of multiple windows shattering made her move quicker.

She ran back into the garage, closing the door behind her. She pulled a small workbench over to block the door, to at least try and buy them some time.

In the car she tossed the bag into the back.

“What do you say we blow this pop stand?” Clare tried to sound hopeful, but her heart pounded with fear.

“What about the garage door?” Dana asked.

“Damn, power's out, I need to open it manually.”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you know what’s out there?” Dana exclaimed.

“Things, they’re in the house now too. Start the car as soon as I get the door up.”

Clare got out of the car and opened the garage door. The noises of metal protesting would attract the things, but she had to do it.

She felt something grab her leg, as she looked down to see on of the infected crawling on the ground, its lower half missing. It leaned in to take a bite.

“To hell with this, damn door is open enough.”

Running to the car she got in, shut the door, and peeled out of the garage.

People covered in blood milled around, others ran. To Clare it was like watching a child learn to walk. Hundreds of bodies littered the ground, and she knew they would rise, it was a matter of when. Groups of people knelt over fallen bodies, eating them, tearing them apart.

Zombies weren’t real; it was much easier to call them things. The joke about the zombie apocalypse was here, and she didn’t think it was funny anymore. Her job now was to get her and Dana the hell out of here.

She sped down the streets, trying not to hit people. She knew in her head they weren’t people, they were zombies. The knowledge didn’t want to sink in, and as a result she tried to avoid hitting as many people, things, or zombies as she could.

Out of nowhere one of the zombies stood directly in front of the car, Clare couldn’t avoid it. Within seconds its body rolled up onto the hood of their SUV causing the windshield to splinter. Clare stood on the breaks and the body rolled off, a lone eyeball eerily looked in before rolling away.

She turned down a dead-end alley to avoid an accident with another vehicle, and wanted to yell in frustration.

Stopping the car, she was about to put it in reverse when she saw zombies running towards them.

As much as she wanted to mow them down she couldn’t, she was still having a hard time accepting what was happening.

Driving forward, she reached the end of the alley and examined her options.

A fire escape ladder to the left, but Dana wouldn’t make it in her condition. The only other choice was a door to the side, hopefully unlocked. Clare grabbed the bags, opened her door and ran to Dana’s side of the car.

“Wait in there!” Dana gave her a dirty look, Clare could live with that.

The door looked promising, but didn’t budge. She kicked, punched, and resorted to screaming at it in order to open it.

Looking down the alley at least a dozen zombies were closing in. Clare was about to get back in the car when the door opened.

Clare reached behind her and opened Dana’s side of the truck. Clare forced Dana inside, Clare close behind her. Almost in the clear, a mangled hand reached out and grabbed Clare. She turned to try and fight her way free. When she saw what stood in front of her, she screamed.

Her doubts about them being zombies were gone. The entire front part of the zombie was torn open, entrails hanging out. The lower part of its jaw was shattered, hanging by threads of rotting flesh. She tried to push it away when she saw a blade come down and sever the zombie’s arm from its body. A strong hand grabbed her and pulled her inside the door.

“Shut the door, and block it you morons!”

A male voice, to Clare he sounded angry.

She could tell someone was trying to talk to her. She could hear a door being slammed, something large being dragged. Clare could feel someone rubbing her hands, slowly she came back to her senses. She saw Dana, and started to calm instantly.

“You okay?” Clare heard the concern in Dana’s voice and forced herself to pull it together.

“Yeah, I’m okay physically, but if you mean in reference to the situation out there, then I would have to go with
hell no
.”

A short man with a piece of pipe looked at them with apprehension.

“I need to look you two over in case you were bit.”

The man was awkward at best as he looked them over. Clare could see the fear written across his face. He was just as scared as they were.

“Okay, you two seem fine, follow me.”

They followed the man to the center of some sort of warehouse. Entering the main area they saw at least three dozen survivors. Most of them wore expressions of disbelief or loss, with one exception.

He sat off in the corner, and every few minutes would look up and a look of guilt would spread across his face.

He wore a pair of faded camouflage pants, and spit-shined black boots. Clare recognized ex-military when she saw it. She noticed he was cleaning off a knife, and realized he’d been the one to save her and Dana.

“Hey, honey, wait here. I’m going to go and talk to that guy over there. See if he knows anything.”

Clare walked over to the man. He sat next to a motorcycle, and upon closer inspection the tattoos and apparel made him look more like a biker. A cigarette hung from his mouth.

“Hey, I just want to say thanks for saving our butts back there.”

“Whatever, doesn’t matter. We’re all going to die, you can’t stop the Reaper.”

“Okay, I just wanted to say thanks.”

He looked at her, and then looked back down at his knife. Clare walked away.

“How did it go, he didn’t look too happy to be talking to you.”

“It went fine, are you hungry? You should probably eat something.” Clare rummaged in the bag.

“Not right now, come here.” Dana patted a spot on the box next to her.

A loud crash was heard and a man from one of the upper levels screamed.

One of the survivors convulsed on the floor, as others moved away from him. Clare stood in front of Dana protectively. She looked around for something to beat his head in, since the others were trying to hide. The survivor, now the infected, stood on shaky legs. His eyes scanned the area methodically, zeroing in on the weakest link.

As he began to run for the person closest to him, Clare heard a shot. The biker she’d been talking to earlier stood there, a smoking pistol in his hand. The infected fell to the ground, a small hole above his left eye.

“No one touch it, get some tarps to wrap it in, and some sort of protective gear if you can. We need to get a fire going too,” the biker ordered.

Clare wondered how he knew what to do, but let the question float to the back of her head as she went to work helping clean up the mess. No way would she let Dana, or their child be exposed to something like this rancid mess.