She came over and held my hand and looked out the window with me. I surprised myself by not pulling my hand away. It felt nice somehow.
“That looks good on you,” I finally said, to break the silence.
She squeezed my hand and said, “Thanks. I hope you don’t mind but my shirt was kind of dirty and stinky and I wanted something clean to put on.”
“No, that’s fine. Help yourself to whatever you want.”
She nodded out the window and pointed to the little BBQ that was going on outside. “Nice party. I wish there was some way we could just warn them. Some way we could tell them they were all in danger.”
“I know. I’ve sat here all morning trying to figure out a way to do that, but there’s no way to go out there and yell ‘zombie’ that will sound credible. Until bodies start showing up no one’s going to believe us.”
“What do you think they’re doing?”
“Who?”
She looked at me with her typical don’t be stupid expression. “The zombies. Why aren’t they attacking?”
I shrugged. “I’m not really sure. According to Barrett they don’t really have brains or intelligence but maybe they’ve got an animal’s survival instinct. Maybe they’re in hiding or maybe they’re on the fringes of the trailer park just picking people off and building their little zombie army up and when they’ve got enough they’ll burst forward and attack.”
“Barrett’s zombie horde,” she said.
“Yeah, that’s the only thing I can think of that might explain it. When you and I saw Mason he took off when he saw us. We outnumbered him two to one. Tamara’s parents attacked us, but maybe that was because they had us surrounded and it was only three to two. Slightly better odds. Tamara,” I shuddered, “attacked old man Simmons from behind and when we ran she didn’t come after us. Maybe they are intelligent and are working on some master plan of revenge against us or it’s just simple animal survival instincts.”
She nodded, thinking deeply. “Maybe they’re a pack animal.”
“Yeah, that could be it. They can’t move fast so they take the easy prey and then once their army is big enough they’ll pour over us like locusts.”
“That’s comforting, Dukey.” She smiled grimly. “I know Barrett’s car is out and your dad has your only car so we don’t have any vehicles available to us, but why don’t we just walk out of here? It’s noon and there’s people around. We might be okay.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been thinking about ways out of here and that’s pretty much the only option available to us. But it’s about 10 miles into town and we’re surrounded by woods. I’m half-afraid that if we do it we’ll be attacked. Maybe I’m crazy but it just feels like we’re being watched and I’m afraid that if we make ourselves vulnerable that they’ll come right after us.”
I looked at her and sighed. “Plus, I have to admit, I feel 100% responsible for what’s happened here. I killed Mason and started all this. All these deaths are on my hands and it’s my responsibility to stop it. If I run away I’m not sure I can live with myself. Tonight I’m going out zombie hunting one way or the other. I’d do it now if I didn’t feel like any one of those people out there would stop me. My hands are stained with all their blood and I need to stop this.”
I took my hand out of hers and put both my hands on her cheeks, making sure that she couldn’t look away from me while I said this. “But I want you and Barrett to try. Take the gun and walk out of here. You might not be attacked. Or go ask someone out there to drive you into town, they’ll take you, and then this will be over for you.”
She shook her head and reached up and grabbed my hands. “It’s as much our responsibility as it is yours, Dukey. If you’re staying than I’m staying and we’ll take care of this ourselves.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she finally broke my gaze. She pulled away from my grip and took my perch in front of the window.
“Go lay down, Dukey. You’ll need your strength tonight, too, if we’re going to do this.”
I didn’t say anything as I went back down the hallway to my room. I did stop and look back at her as I left, though, and saw her wiping the tears on her hands. I couldn’t help but feel doom hanging over us all as I lay down and felt myself sweeping along toward dreamland.
11.
The zombies shambled slowly through the forest. Wandering aimlessly through the night as they looked for food. They could sense the life-force, the heat, of their prey as they methodically hemmed it in. Their stumbling and awkward gait was oddly choreographed and in sync as they wove a pattern through the trees. They made no sound as they moved through the forest, almost gliding on the soft dirt.
The forest was full of them. By the hundreds and the thousands they roamed through the countryside. All the animals stopped and were still as the zombies passed within feet of them. Most rained hot urine down on the ground beneath them, unable to control their bladders as the undead shuffled past. The zombies ignored the wildlife, hunting and searching for stronger prey and tastier meat. They wanted to eat the life force, the very soul, of the men and women and children they hunted.
Only that could sustain them.
Some of them were relatively untouched by the death that filled them. These looked like normal men and women you’d see walking down any street. They’d have maybe a hunk of flesh missing here or a bite from teeth marks there or maybe even just a tiny scratch on their arm that they’d tried to hide from their friends.
Standing next to them were the horribly malformed or terribly mangled remnants of their friends. These were the ones with eyeballs dangling from their stalks and slapping on their cheeks with each stumbling step. Arms or legs missing. Great hunks of flesh chewed up and discarded. Gaping holes in their chests, arms or necks. Bone and gristle showing in the moonlight. Maybe they walked a little slower than the others – maybe they could only crawl – but still they kept moving. Always on the hunt, always on the prowl, always searching for new prey and trying to assuage their deep, burning hunger.
A hunger that was never fulfilled.
At the head of the pack was Mason Smith, zombie patriarch. His rotted flesh hung in tatters about his face
