“Holy shit! That’s the biggest knife I’ve ever seen.”
“I know, it was just lying here, next to the book. I think she used it to flay the animals.”
“Right, now we only need something to punch our way through the hatch. I guess this is our best option.” He picks up the iron pipe and goes to the ladder. He darts a look at Dan. “Would you keep an eye on your sister?”
Dan nods, his face solemn.
Thomas takes a few steps up the ladder and starts punching the pipe up into the hatch. It’s made of wood, and it’ll take quite some time to break through; his punches only leave small marks.
After a minute or so, he takes a break and rests his arm. From the other side of the hatch he can hear the scratching has grown faster and louder.
It’s helping me, he thinks and almost bursts into laughter. It’s trying to break through from the other side.
Dan has brought the book and is now sitting next to Jennie studying it.
“Dan?”
He looks up. “Yeah?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t … you know, be that close to her.”
Dan glances at his sister, then moves a few yards away.
SEVEN
Thomas has been banging away at the hatch for some minutes, when Dan speaks.
Thomas stops and looks down at him. “What’s that?”
“She’s written something in Danish,” he says, pointing to a place in the book. “It’s on the last few pages.”
“Huh,” Thomas says, not feeling particularly interested. Small chips have started coming off the hatch. He’s about halfway through, and he’s earned a short break, so he places the pipe under his arm and rests his hands. A couple of sore blisters have appeared on his palms.
“It’s very confusing,” Dan goes on, frowning. “But I think I figured out what the ritual was for. Listen to this ...” He starts reading aloud. “Seven lives are needed. Their blood must flow from them and find its way to the new veins where it once flowed warmly but now has turned cold. Once more it will flow with warmth and life …” Dan looks up at this point, nodding towards the table. “I think the animals were sacrifices. She killed them to bring something else to life.”
“But there’s only six of them,” Thomas points out. “Where is the seventh?”
Dan swallows audibly. “Get this. Farther down it says … Oh, my beloved darling. You most beautiful child. Your Little Good Angel is dead and gone, but your Big Good Angel can never die. It’s my fault. Take my blood so you can once again live.”
Silence falls over the basement, as Dan stops—except for the scratching noises from the hatch, and the ragged heaving of Jennie’s breath.
“So there was a child,” Thomas mutters. “And it died?”
“Yeah, I think so. Perhaps there was an accident. And then the woman used this ritual to bring the kid back to life. She needed seven sacrifices, and the seventh …”
“… was herself,” Thomas concludes. “Fuck me. It’s like something out of a horror movie.”
“The last thing she wrote was: Awaken, my dearest. I guess that was right before she did it.”
Thomas points to the hatch. “So that’s the child up there?”
“I think so, yeah.”
Thomas tries to process the information. “I guess that’s good news, then.”
Dan looks baffled. “How so?”
“Because this was where it started. It means the world hasn’t ended. Only this house.”
“But we don’t know if they have been outside the house.”
“If they had, why would they have returned? I think they’ve been trapped here until we came by. None of them were able to open a door or a window.”
Dan doesn’t exactly look thrilled. “So no one else but us knows about it. And if we die, there’ll be three more zombies in this house. So when the next poor guy shows up … they won’t know until it’s too late, and the zombies will get out.”
Thomas thinks for a moment. “You’re right. I guess it’s up to us. We can’t let them get away. We need to find a way to keep them here, until we can reach the police, and—”
He’s interrupted as Jennie suddenly gives off a loud, rasping gasp. She doesn’t open her eyes, but her face contorts into a painful grimace. The flies are crawling all over her.
“It won’t be long,” Thomas mutters. “We need to find something to tie her up with.”
He steps down from the ladder and goes to the first room to look. The best he can find is a piece of cord. Back in the other room he finds an old, rusty electric heater mounted to the wall.
“Help me move her, Dan.”
Together the boys gently drag Jennie across the floor. It’s easy, since she has suddenly gone completely limp and quiet again. Her skin is no longer particularly warm, either. Thomas figures she has slipped into a coma. He’s amazed at the speed of the infection.
He pulls the cord tightly to test its strength. It seems very strong, so he ties one end to the heater, making sure to do a few extra knots just to be sure.
This is where they always fuck up in the movies. Some fool doesn’t tie the rope properly, so the knot unties itself once the zombie wakes up and starts tugging.
Thomas ties the other end of the cord around Jennie’s ankle and makes it as tight as he can, with three strong knots.
Dan looks at his sister, a pained expression on his face. “How long do you think it’ll be?”
Thomas reaches out to feel her pulse. It’s very faint. “Not long,” he whispers. “We better keep our distance from this point on. Do you … uhm … want to say goodbye?”
Dan squeezes his lips firmly together. He kneels down in front of Jennie. Thomas doesn’t want to look, so he turns his back, but he can still hear Dan whisper.
“Jennie? I don’t know if you can hear me, but … I hope so. I’m really sorry this had to happen. I wish I could
