“Second shelf,” Raven said, pointing to the cupboard over the sink. “Never mind, I’ll get it you talk.” She rose from her chair, displacing Rocky gently.
“Okay,” Henry responded. “So, last night I went to bed early.”
That’s a good sign, Raven thought, pouring water into the percolator and dumping coffee in the basket.
“And I was woken up by someone screaming. So, naturally, I got up and looked outside. I couldn’t believe what I fucking saw.
“My friend Sarah came over last night but she couldn’t stay. Having gotten an emergency call from work — Sara’s a nurse at U C Point — she had to go. There had been a lot of staff out sick in the last few days and she wasn’t very surprised.” Henry stopped talking and scratched his chin pensively. “I bet that’s connected.”
“What’s connected?” Raven asked, sitting again at the table. The percolator was making noise, pervading the kitchen with the ambrosial smell of coffee. She was truly waking up now and the reality of their situation resonated. Raven started ticking off things they might need, weapons, water, food, and medical supplies.
“All the nurses and doctors and shit who called in sick,” Henry answered, looking irked. He thought she wasn’t listening.
It was funny how childhood habits resurfaced at the oddest times. When they were kids, Henry chattered to Raven constantly, going on about his day at school and everything in between. Back then she rarely listened, but she was listening now.
“Sorry,” she spoke as way of apology, gesturing for her brother to continue.
Henry’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “Anyways,” he said, drawing out the word. “I heard screaming and went to look, grabbing my knife on the way.” He pulled a large buck knife in a leather sheath out of his jacket and laid it on the table. “I didn’t go out right away, just peeked through the blinds.” He closed his eyes briefly. “It was Sarah who was screaming. I don’t know why she was still there. She lay on the ground, in the middle of the sidewalk. Blood was pooling all around her, spurting out of her stomach and splattering the kids.”
Rising to pour the coffee, she grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, emerald green with painted flowers around the rims.
“Kids!” Raven exclaimed, rising to pour the coffee. “What kids?” She added cream and sugar to her coffee and raised her brows.
“Cream no sugar,” Henry answered her unasked question.
“Thanks,” he muttered, taking the proffered cup. “The kids belonged to the couple across the street. I think their names were Mindy and Laurie. They were on their hands and knees, leaning over Sarah.” He cupped his coffee in his hands but did not drink. “They were eating her, Raven. They had their fucking cute little faces buried inside her abdomen. I must’ve made some noise because the older one — Mindy maybe, I can never remember — looked up at me. Her chin was covered in red and there was a chunk of intestine hanging out of her fucking mouth. She chewed on it as I watched, sis, slurped it in and swallowed the fucking thing.”
“Shit,” Raven responded, unsure what to say. Henry’s expression was haunted and his face was pale. “Drink your coffee, bro,” she said, patting the bottom of the mug.
His mouth held the hint of a smile and he took a sip. “It’s good,” Henry said, drinking again.
“How did you get here?” Raven inquired, sipping her own coffee. It was her favorite brew from the local Coffee Stop and Buzz, hazelnut caramel.
“I waited for the girls to eat their fill. They left after like ten minutes, stumbling unsteadily down the road. I heard a shriek off in the distance. The girls’ heads perked up like a dog on the scent and they took off running; fast little bastards.” He sipped his coffee again. “I hate fucking running zombies.”
“Running zombies?” Raven questioned. The fear was starting to creep back in and she resumed her mental checklist, boots, dog food, and leather coat. Was it harder for zombies to bite through leather? For the first time she wished that she’d been more of a horror buff, maybe then she’d know what the fuck to expect.
“You know,” Henry answered. “You’ve got your shambling dead from the old flicks, Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, the version from the seventies.”
“Okay,” Raven spoke, drinking the last of her coffee and rising to fill another cup. She had a feeling she would need as much caffeine as she could get today.
“Then,” Henry continued, warming to the subject. The kid had always loved scary movies. “The new Dawn of the Dead from 2004 that was one of my favorites.” He pointed his finger at her and she held back a laugh. “And the British one, 28 Days Later. Those movies had running zombies. Those fuckers can move like track stars and, from what I’ve seen, that’s what we have here.”
“Great,” Raven said sighing. Then she had a thought. Glancing at her axe on the kitchen counter where she had set it to make coffee, she rose and picked it up, feeling the weight of it in her hand. “How do we kill them?” she asked, turning to her brother. If she focused on the pertinent, maybe she wouldn’t run screaming.
He smiled a smile that was both amused and a little maniacal. “Stab them in the head or sever their spinal cord.” Henry gesticulated with the knife, grinning and making Raven laugh.
“Okay, okay,” she said, moving her hands into a push away gesture.
A faint scream sounded outside, drying her laughter on her lips. The noise sounded like a man yelling, loud and ragged. Rocky raised his head and let out a
