His own car is parked where he left it. The door to the driver’s side is open. Another car is parked next to it. It’s empty.
Thomas takes out his phone and tries to activate the screen, but nothing happens.
“Come on, you piece of shit.” He tries a few more times, before realizing the phone is dead. He must have spent all the juice trying to call 911 a hundred times down in the basement.
Dan left his phone at home by accident, and Jennie’s is probably still in her pocket.
Which means his only option is to drive for help. He runs to the car, gets in, slams the door and turns the key, which is still in the ignition.
Nothing but a dry Click!
The car is as dead as his phone. He notices the gas is on EMPTY.
You gotta be fucking kidding me. I forgot to turn off the engine when I heard Dan screaming.
Frustrated, he gets back out of the car and goes to the other one. He grabs the driver’s door, but finds it locked. He goes to check the back door and jumps backwards as a face appears inside the car.
ELEVEN
“Holy shit!”
Thomas manages only by sheer effort of will not to turn around and bolt.
A woman is crouching on the floor of the backseat, obviously trying to make herself invisible and obviously not a zombie, as her face is full of emotions; terror, most of all, mixed with a healthy dose of shock. She points what looks like a nail file up at him.
“Stay away!” she yells, her voice trembling. “I’ve already called the police! They’re on their way!”
“Thank God,” Thomas sighs, holding up his hands. “I won’t hurt you. I’m just—”
“Get away from the car!” the woman demands, stabbing the air with her improvised weapon. “It was you! You killed him!”
“I had nothing to do with what happened here. I was just delivering the paper.”
The woman flicks her eyes, as though she doesn’t really understand what he’s saying. Her hair is red, her skin is pale and freckled. She’s older than him, perhaps in her mid-twenties, and somehow, she seems vaguely familiar.
Thomas suddenly remembers about the three—soon to be four—zombies in the house, and that he left the front door open wide. He hurries to close it. As he returns to the car, the woman is now sitting on the backseat. Her blue eyes follow him intently.
Then Thomas remembers where he has seen her before. In the photo album in the basement.
“You’re her daughter-in-law,” he says.
The woman rolls down the window an inch or so and squints out at him. “What’s that?”
“The woman who lived here. You’re her daughter-in-law, right?”
Her eyes are still suspicious. “Why do you say ‘lived’?”
“Because she’s dead. Like the man and the little girl, who—” Thomas interrupts himself abruptly, as he realizes what he’s saying.
But it’s too late. The woman’s face crumbles into tears.
You moron. That was her husband and her daughter.
“Uhm … I’m sorry,” he mutters stupidly.
The woman just sobs into her hands.
Thomas rubs his forehead and closes his eyes for a moment. It’s finally over. Almost, at least. Before long, the police will arrive, and they will be able to pacify the zombies. If only Dan can hold out a few more minutes …
“What is this?” the woman whispers in between her sobs. “What … what happened to them?”
“They’ve become zombies,” Thomas murmurs. “Like on TV.”
The woman looks up at him with wet eyes and an expression like she had forgotten about him being here. “What?”
“Your mother-in-law made some fucked up ritual in the basement. I think that’s how it started. Was she into witchcraft or some crazy shit like that?”
“Voodoo,” the woman whispers. “But that’s not … that can’t be …” She starts crying again. “Oh, Janjak …”
Thomas says nothing, and the woman cries for a minute. A honey bee buzzes by lazily. He listens for sirens but can’t hear anything in the quiet summer air.
“Did the police say when they’d be here?” he asks. “My friend is trapped still inside.”
The woman wipes her eyes and shakes her head. “I … I didn’t call the police.”
Thomas gapes at her. “What? Why the hell not?”
“I left my phone at home to recharge.”
“Goddamnit! Then why did you say …?” He moans. “Forget it. We need to go get help. My car is out of gas, so we’ll go in yours.”
He’s about to go to the driver’s side, when the woman says: “My husband took the key with him.”
Thomas stops and smacks himself on the forehead. “Of course he did. This just keeps getting better. How about your mother-in-law? She must have a car …” He looks around, but sees neither car nor garage.
“Esther doesn’t have a car.”
Thomas flails his arm. “Come on! You can’t live all the way out here without a fucking car! Christ! Right, you need to run to the highway. At least a couple of cars must come by every hour or so. You can stop one of them and ask them to call for help.”
The woman shakes her head firmly. “No!”
Thomas steps closer to the window, and she pulls back like a scared animal.
“Listen, I’ve cut my foot, so I can’t make it. My friend in there hasn’t had a sip of water since we came here several hours ago. I’m afraid he might faint or go into shock or something. And then my girlfriend will probably get him. She’s also—”
Something catches the woman’s gaze behind Thomas as he is speaking, and she turns her head and screams.
Thomas spins around, ready to fight, but he’s still alone in the courtyard, and the front door is still closed. But right next to it is a tall, narrow window. On the other side, the black guy is pressing his face against the glass, his eyes flickering empty in their sockets.
So, he’s woken up, too, Thomas thinks. That means Dan is now alone in the house with four zombies.
As though his
