Within five minutes he has made an opening wide enough for them to pass through. He puts aside the pipe and just stands there for a moment, heaving for breath and feeling faint from the heat.
“Right,” Dan says, looking from Thomas to Jennie. “Who’s first?”
“Let me just catch my breath,” Thomas says. “Then I’ll go.”
Jennie gets up resolutely. “Sorry, but I’m getting out of here right now.” She manages two steps before she starts wobbling. It looks like her legs simply give way, and she stumbles into an old dresser.
Dan jumps forward to catch her. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, sure,” she mumbles. “I just got a little dizzy, that’s all.”
Dan helps her to sit back down. Thomas studies her face closely. Her cheeks have turned feverish red, the sweat is beading on her forehead. The skin on her wounded arm has turned alarmingly dark.
It’s going a lot faster than I thought, Thomas thinks, swallowing a lump tasting like drywall. Really hope we find a way out through the next room … or Dan and I will soon have a much bigger problem on our hands.
He pushes the thought aside, turns to the hole in the wall. The stench is really bad now. He can also hear something buzzing in there. He holds his nose as he gets out his cell phone and activates the flashlight.
The next room has no windows. It seems larger than the one they’re in right now, but that might only be because it’s not stuffed with junk. The only pieces of furniture are an oblong dining table in the corner and in the center something which reminds him of a small altar. It’s only knee-high and covered in a red tablecloth. Around the altar, in a circle on the floor, are six wooden stools all facing the center. As though someone recently held a small round table conference.
“What’s in there?” Dan asks, coming closer. “Yuk, what’s that horrid smell?”
“I don’t know, but look!” Thomas points the light into the corner. A wooden ladder leads to a hatch in the ceiling. Thin beams of daylight are streaming through the cracks.
“It’s a way out!” Dan gasps.
“What’s in there?” Jennie asks from behind them.
Thomas steps in through the hole. He moves carefully along the wall until he reaches the ladder. He crawls up a few steps, so he can reach the hatch. He gives it a push, but it doesn’t give. He pushes harder and hears the clinging of metal.
“Goddamnit. It’s locked from the other side.”
Dan lets out a moan.
Thomas steps back down and notices a switch on the wall. He flips it. A big lightbulb turns on reluctantly.
A loud gasp from Dan makes Thomas turn around.
So that’s where the smell is coming from …
On each stool sits a small pile of furry mess. They are gutted animals: cats, rabbits, even a tiny dog. They have all been flayed and their skin nailed to the seats. The bared flesh is dark with rot, and an army of flies is buzzing around the feast. Blood has trickled down the legs of the stools and produced small puddles on the floor. Thomas looks around and notices strange symbols drawn on the walls with chalk. From the ceiling hangs a variety of objects in strings, such as large, black feathers, dried branches and thin bones.
“Holy shit,” Dan whispers. “She’s made some sort of crazy ritual down here.”
Thomas runs his forearm across his cheeks and realizes he’s sweating even more profusely now. The temperature is even higher in this room. The stench from the rotting animals has made its way into his sinuses—he can almost taste it.
“We gotta get out of here,” Jennie says, as she steps tentatively through the wall. “We need to … we need …” Her voice trails off, as her eyes go blank. “Dan … would you please …? I’m a little … dizzy …”
Dan tries to catch her, but this time she collapses, slipping through his arms and on to the floor, her eyes halfway open, her mouth still trying to speak.
“Jennie? Jennie!” Dan calls out her name and shakes her gently, but he doesn’t get any comprehensive respond from Jennie, so he looks up at Thomas. “She’s fainted.”
Thomas waves off a fly. “I could tell she was getting worse. I guess we’ll have to carry her when we—”
A bump from upstairs.
Both of them look up at the ceiling.
“Was that her?” Dan whispers. “The zombie lady, I mean.”
Thomas goes back to the hole in the wall, sticks his head through and listens for a moment. He can still hear the sound of scraping nails from the door. He turns to Dan. “It wasn’t her; she’s still by the door.”
“The door …” Jennie mutters without opening her eyes.
Another bump from above. The ceiling gives off a low creak.
Thomas and Dan stare at each other.
“Someone else is in the house,” Dan croaks.
FIVE
Thomas has been standing on the ladder with his ear pressed against the hatch for two minutes, when Dan no longer can take the silence.
“Do you hear anything?” he whispers.
Thomas steps back down onto the floor, shaking his head in mild confusion. “It doesn’t sound like a big person. The steps are very light. Perhaps it’s a child. But as far as I can tell, whoever is up there is just wandering about in circles.”
Dan bites his lip. “Do you think it’s a zombie?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, I guess,” Thomas says, shrugging.
“Should we try and call out for them?”
Thomas runs a hand through his hair, which is greasy from sweat and dust. “If it is a zombie, we don’t want to draw its attention.”
“But if it’s a living person, they might be able to open the hatch and let us out.”
“Zombie,” Jennie echoes in a faint mutter.
Thomas darts a glance at her. Although he has come to more or less hate her over the last few months, it still pains him to see her like this. Dan has
