the shotgun. He tossed the rest of the shells in the backpack. By now the pack was filled to the top with supplies. He had problems zipping it up, but, when he finally got the rucksack to zip, he loosened one of the straps and flung it over his shoulder. It felt awkward on his back, but he had no other options.
Kyle grabbed the .357 with some extra rounds and walked over to Mary, who had taken a seat next to Eddie. He handed the gun to her and said, “Here, take this, just in case something tries to get in.” Mary took the gun and the box of ammunition. “It’s loaded, be careful with this one. It’s very powerful. Keep Eddie safe.”
Kyle poked Eddie on the top of the head. The boy took off his headphones and looked at his dad. “I’m going to go out for a few days okay, Sport?”
Okay, Dad,” he said as he put his earbuds back on.
“That’s all I’m going to get? Can I have a hug?” Kyle asked not really expecting an answer.
“Just leave him alone, Kyle. He’s angry that you’re leaving him.” Mary began to rub Eddie’s back. “Just fucking leave already,” she said softly, her voice trailing into her sorrows.
“I’ll be back, Sport, okay? I’ll make sure to bring back a lot of games for your handheld,” Kyle said. Eddie nodded in return. “I love you, buddy,” he continued then turned toward the little window near the vent.
He grabbed the shotgun off the table as he walked to the vent. The world around him began to move in slow motion as he leaned the shotgun on the wall and lifted the vent door. He put the backpack and shotgun through the slot, and then climbed in. There was only enough room for him to crawl toward the opening in the front yard. He moved forward, pushing the pack and shotgun in front of him. The vent began to widen. There was more room for him to move. He saw a little patch of sunlight hitting the inside of the vent, but wasn’t entirely sure what to expect with the light at the end of the tunnel.
Kyle made it to the light and there was enough room for him to stand. He hunched over so the top of his head wouldn’t hit the metal entrance. He lifted the door slowly and poked his head out. He searched the area for movement. There was none. Grabbing the backpack and the shotgun, he placed them on the grass and climbed out, closing the hatch door behind him. Movement was everything now. Making less noise would ensure the he wouldn’t bring on unnecessary attention. He picked up the pack and the shotgun from the dew-filled grass and stood.
He searched the area again as he lifted the shotgun in a shooting stance. His blue 1995 Toyota pickup truck was still sitting on the driveway untouched. Kyle walked toward the vehicle, but suddenly stopped. He knew that he was about to do something stupid and dangerous. All he wanted was to get one last look at Eddie before he left.
Kyle casually walked toward the very small basement window. It was only one foot across and six inches high, Kyle never understood the reason for such a small window. Laying the weapon and backpack on the ground, he lay on the grass and peered through. The window was covered with a thick layer of moisture. He wiped his hand across the window a few times to clear it. He peered in again to get a glimpse of his boy. Mary stood behind Eddie’s chair with the .357 drawn and pointed at the back of his head. Eddie continued playing his video game as if nothing was wrong. She pulled the hammer back on the gun.
“No!” Kyle yelled as loud as he could. His heart sank and his body felt completely numb.
The scream was loud enough for Eddie to hear through the headphones. The little boy looked up at his dad and gave a quick smile. Kyle noticed that Eddie had the four-leaf clover keychain dangling around his finger.
At that second, Mary pulled the trigger. Kyle watched, in slow motion, as the bullet ejected from the gun and went through the back of the boy’s head. It exploded outward, leaving a large hole where Eddie’s face had been. Blood, cartilage, brain tissue, and other unknown substances spewed everywhere onto the ground. His bottom jaw was still intact, but the top of his mouth was mixed with the gore on the floor. Eddie dropped the handheld as he went limp. His arms fell down the sides of the couch. The keychain fell out of his finger and hit the ground.
“No!” Kyle screeched again even louder than before. He began to weep uncontrollably at the sight.
Mary stared at the glass window. She shouted something, but he couldn’t hear it over his mourning. Through tears, Kyle watched as Mary put the gun barrel under her chin and pulled the trigger. A look of disbelief crossed Mary’s face as the bullet went through her head, leaving a baseball-sized hole as blood and brain ejected across the room. She instantly fell to the ground and dropped the firearm a foot away from her hand.
Kyle was sick to his stomach and he began to vomit, showering the little window with his digested breakfast. He quickly backed away from the acrid mess. His eyes watered and tears began to fall freely down his face. Everything around him seemed to slow to a crawl, his senses heightened as adrenalin pumped through his veins. His hearing increased for a split second. He could hear each individual bird chirp and then he heard a moan from somewhere in the area. He wiped away his tears and quickly heaved to his feet, picking up the weapon and his supplies. Kyle still felt hollow inside, but his survival instincts kicked in, even though mentally, he wasn’t there.
Five bodies walked toward him. Their skins were grayish green and their clothes were shredded over their forms. The walking corpses were thin; their exposed skin looked to be stretched over bones. They walked slowly, carefully taking one step at a time. He needed to get past them in order to make it to his truck. Kyle raised the Winchester and fired. The shell caught the front monster in the chest, nearly splitting it in half. The creature fell back as Kyle pumped the shotgun. He aimed at another and fired again. The casing hit it in the head; the force of the slug causing its head to explode, expelling brain matter and bone fragments in a burst pattern.
Kyle kept repeating the words, “I’m sorry, Eddie,” as he shot off the remaining shells. He began moving toward the truck gripping the gun like a baseball bat, ready to swing at anything that might creep up behind him. He tossed the shotgun into the vehicle, and then threw the bag in. Another moan erupted. Kyle quickly drew his pistol like an old west gunfighter and turned. Standing before him was Gary, Eddie’s friend, wearing a gray hooded sweater and a vacant look on his face. His black Beatles-type hair was wild and unkempt. Kyle pointed the gun at the boy’s head, but couldn’t pull the trigger. The creature’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as he lunged for Kyle. Kyle quickly put the handgun down and kicked the boy across the chest. Gary moaned as the force of Kyle’s kick caused the reanimated kid to fall to the ground, but as he hit the grass, he was already trying to get back to his feet. Kyle jumped into the truck and started it. He closed the door and simultaneously, Gary’s face pressed up against the window. Kyle motioned away from the glass in shock. The boy continued hitting the door with his palm.
The momentary safety of the truck caused Kyle to fall into a trance. He sat in the driver seat repeating, “I’m sorry, Eddie.” He grabbed the shotgun sitting next to him and put the barrel under his chin. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” he mumbled, and pulled the trigger.
The shotgun clicked empty, and when it did something clicked in Kyle’s head. The hollowness was still inside of him, but he began to think clearly. He turned to look at Gary again. “I’m sorry, Gary,” he said and put the shotgun on the passenger seat.
Kyle put the truck into reverse and backed out of the driveway. He shifted into drive and headed west up Colonial Road. He glanced through his rearview mirror and saw the figure of Gary walking onto the street, lumbering in his direction.
Chapter Two
Kyle drove through the deserted suburban city streets, passing by abandoned cars that were parked or crashed off to the side. He looked through the car windows. Most of them were empty, but others still had moving bodies fastened to their seat belts. He only saw them for a split second, but that was long enough to know they were struggling to become free.
Kyle tried not to think about Mary murdering Eddie then committing suicide. Yes, it hurt him, but the evil, malevolent part of him was a little glad. Sure it was easy to pretend like the world would heal from this, but really there was no telling if things would ever get back to normal. Ending Eddie’s life swiftly was probably better than dragging out a long and painful death. The other part of him felt a cold and empty void, something that could only be filled by seeing someone that brought him happiness. Like seeing Jasmine’s face again. He knew where he was going. In California there was a small town near San Diego named Poway, and that was his destination.
Before moving to Nevada to start a new life with Mary and Eddie, Kyle had lived in California. He was born and raised in the town of Escondido, right next to Poway. Knowing the area well would definitely give him an advantage. It would make things easier when traveling through dead-infested territory. If he didn’t run into any trouble, he could make it there within a few hours. He looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was 9:30 a.m.
He began flipping through the radio stations, only to find white noise or an annoying emergency broadcast beep. He switched to AM and continued scrolling through the channels as the cool AC air blared into his face.
“… Yes, yes, it’s true the dead are coming back to life,” a voice managed to say through the static. He
