knew we were inside the garage.
I leaned against the wall and found Lane's pained eyes looking at me. I knew what he was
thinking.... that could have been
us
.
I checked my watch, I had to use my T-shirt to clean away the blood so I could see the time clearly.
I stayed where I was and Lane eventually let go of Stacey after she had calmed down, she knelt on
the floor sobbing. It took the zombies all of five minutes to come knocking on the garage door. I
wasn't worried about them getting inside, not unless they learned how to cut through metal.
Thumping on the inside door started and I slid down the wall to the floor.
“I hope the sparklers were worth it.” Lane yelled.
More tears streamed down Stacey's face, leaving black trails of mascara down her cheeks. Lane
started shouting at her. It didn't matter, the zombies already knew where we were. I covered my ears
as loud thuds vibrated against the metal garage door, followed by more banging on the inside door. I
closed my eyes and tried to block it out. Lane's violent rants continued, all aimed at Stacey, every
time I thought he was mellowing down a bit he'd start yelling at her again. I stayed out of it. I just
wanted the ground to swallow me up. I didn't intervene, even when Stacey's eyes kept landing on
me. She was part to blame, she wanted to come here, now she had to deal with the consequences,
and Jasper should have known better than to go outside after dark. After I had gone over and over it
in my head I finally came to the conclusion I was part to blame as well. I should have kept an eye
on her and not let Lane drag me upstairs. Thuds, bangs, and screams carried on into the night. I
hated my life!
I woke up to silence... not one single sound, apart from that of my own breathing. I slowly sat up
and used the wall to climb to my feet as my legs didn't want to work properly this morning. I felt
tired and sore all over from sleeping on the hard floor. I spotted Stacey asleep on the backseat inside
the car, and Lane was sat on top of the freezer, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed. I
didn't think he was asleep, though, the garage smelled of smoke and he had a cigarette in one hand
and the other resting on top of the bat that was across his lap. I opened the car, careful not to wake
Stacey. Her eyes looked puffy and her face was still blotchy.
Inside the glove-box I found a small pack of tissues and used them to clean my arms, spitting on the
tissue and trying the best I could to get the dry blood off, but I just managed to make it look worse
by smearing it further up my arms.
I walked over to Lane attempting to clean my hands. I lifted myself up next to him, he opened his
eyes and tilted his head toward me. I grimly smiled. I didn't know what to say. Jasper and Lane had
become close friends, I felt bad for him, and I felt upset over Jasper, he was my friend as well.
His eyes landed on my arms.
“The glass table,” I said. “I think there's still pieces of glass stuck in my arms, I won't know until I
have a shower and wash all this off. I look like something from
Chainsaw Massacre
.”
I realized it was bad timing, my jokes were so inappropriate sometimes. Lane didn't respond and
tapped his cigarette over the side of the freezer.
“It's all quiet,” I said.
“The noise stopped about two hours ago. You were already asleep.”
“I think I was in shock. Last night was...”
“Not something I want to talk about.” Lane cut me off.
“Do you think they got bored and left?”
Lane shrugged.
“At least it's light outside now. We should just get our bags and get out of here, my gun should be
on the ground outside near...”
Lane shook his head
“You can go, I have to stay.”
“What? Stay for what?”
“To bury Jasper.”
“What's left of him.” I blurted. “Sorry, I don't mean it to come out that way.”
I hopped down and started walking to the garage door.
“Don't,” Lane said.
“I'm going to see it sooner or later,” I said.
I took a deep breath and stepped up onto the paint tin.
It was bad. Jasper was lying flat on his back with his arms and legs splayed out. His jeans were
soaked through with blood, his T-shirt had been torn off, his arms were shredded, and there
appeared to be a hole in his stomach with something hanging out. I couldn't see his face. After
seeing what the zombies had done to his arms and gut, I didn't think I wanted to see his face. I
looked away, afraid if I looked at him any longer the sight of his mangled flesh would make me
sick. My eyes drifted to the ground, most of his blood had trickled down the driveway and into the
street. I located my gun not too far away from his feet. It was the only reason why I really wanted to
look outside. It's not like I wanted to see Jasper's half eaten body, I wasn't that morbid.
Stacey stirred inside the car and I quickly jumped down, I didn't want her to catch me gawking
outside at Jasper.
I opened the door for her and she shuffled over to the edge and hung her feet down. She looked
terrible. I was surprised she had fallen asleep at all, she was in such a state last night, she must have
sobbed herself to sleep. She looked at my bloody hands and arms, her face was a mixture of concern
and guilt.
“I fell through a glass coffee table.” I said.
“No thanks to you.” Lane muttered.
She glanced at him, but only for a second, she probably didn't want to upset him in any way that
would lead to another argument.
“Have they gone now?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Where did they go?”
“I don't know.”
I looked back at Lane, wondering if he had seen where they had disappeared to.
“Some of them took off down the street, others wandered through open doors.” he said.
“Where were they going?” Stacey asked.
She wasn't helping the situation, Lane would kick off again if she kept asking stupid questions.
“How should I know? I didn't get a chance to ask them, they were too busy eating my friend.”
I held up my hand. “Okay, enough. No more shouting. I don't want them coming back.”
“What do we do now?” Stacey asked.
“Well, in a minute when we're ready to leave we are going to go out through that door, down the
driveway where I can pick up my gun and get the ax, then we're going to get back to the other
house, get our stuff, and get out of here as fast as we can.”
“Not until I've buried Jasper.”
“Lane, please, I just wanna go.” I pleaded with him.
“No, I already told you I'm staying. You can go back with Stacey and I'll meet you back there later.”
“No, there's no way I'm leaving you behind.”
“But what about the zombies?” Stacey butted in.
Like we need reminding.
“We've been to this town, what, like, ten times, possibly more,” I said.
Lane nodded in agreement. “We've rarely seen a zombie here during the day. Now I know I'm not a
zombie expert, but maybe they're sleeping, they
do
sleep, maybe here the majority like to come out
after dark?”
“So we're staying?” Stacey looked horrified.
“We're not leaving until Jasper's in the ground. If you don't want to stay then you can walk back on
your own or with Alex if she goes.”
Stacey looked at me with desperation. I shook my head. “I'm staying with Lane until he's ready to
leave.”
Not that I wanted to. If I had my way we'd leave now and never come back, but for once Lane was
making the decisions and I didn't think anything I said would change his mind. Lane walked past us
and peeked out a window.
“Is now good for you, ladies?” Lane asked, tapping the bloodstained bat against his leg.
I nodded and picked up the fire poker, and Stacey picked up a hammer that Lane had found in the
toolbox.
I helped Lane move the crates and push the freezer along, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“Ready?” Lane asked, his hand on the doorknob.
“Wait,” I said, turning to Stacey. “Look at me, when we get outside, don't look down the driveway,
look anywhere else. Do you understand?”
She nodded and swallowed, she looked like she was about to throw up.
“And don't fucking scream.” Lane added before twisting the doorknob.
I followed Lane into a bright sunny hallway. The floor was now covered in random items that hadn't
been there last night because we would have tripped over it all on the way in. Shoes, books, little
pieces of potpourri everywhere, broken glass, and picture frames had been knocked off the table, it
was zombie destruction at its best.
We hurried out the front door and along the footpath, I looked over my shoulder to check Stacey
was doing as she was told. She was, she had her eyes fixed on a bird up in a tree. She was so
distracted trying to keep her eyes off the driveway she nearly fell over a garden gnome. I grabbed
her T-shirt and guided her.
“Don't look.” I whispered.
I couldn't hold her hand as my hands were painful and bloody. I led her down the driveway, keeping
one eye on the other houses in the street for any movement, and checking back on Stacey every few
seconds. I gave Jasper's body a wide berth. Lane stood close by surveying the damage. I didn't dare
look. I leaned down and picked up my gun, still holding onto Stacey's T-shirt. My gun had splashes
of blood all over it. I put the safety on and tucked it into my belt, not wanting to touch it too much, I
had cuts open to infection on my hands.
“C'mon,” I said to Lane.
We quickly walked back to the house we had originally stayed in. Once inside, Lane quietly closed
the door, kicking a dead zombie out of the way. The other two were on the floor in a bloody heap
from where Lane had finished them off with the bat. I checked the living room to make sure there
were no hiding zombies, there was only the dead one on the couch and the other one on the floor.
“Stay there.” I mouthed to Stacey.
Lane crept up the stairs and I edged my way down the hallway and into the kitchen.
The kitchen was empty. The counter tops were almost bare and all the items were now on the floor,
cooking utensils, the kettle, pasta shells, even the toaster was on the floor, and an empty box of
sparklers. I closed the back door and bolted the top. Lane came back down the stairs and I let out a
deep breath, one I had been holding. The zombies were gone... for now.
Stacey walked into the kitchen and stared out the window.
“There are garden tools in the shed, I remember seeing a shovel.” Lane said.
I nodded, and Lane crossed the kitchen, wanting to get this over and done with.
I looked back at Stacey, she was now sitting on the kitchen floor hugging her knees.
“Hey,” I said, crouching down beside her.
She was staring at the dead zombies in the hallway, unable to tear her eyes away.
“Don't worry they're definitely dead.” I pulled out my gun and held it out to her. “Take this,”
I thought offering her my gun would help her feel safer, she was a wreck, I didn't know how else to
comfort her. I couldn't even hug her.
She didn't take it, she didn't even lift her head to look at me.
I showed her how to take the safety off, I didn't want her blowing a hole in her foot, I wasn't sure
how much of what I was telling her was actually going in, though. I left the gun by her feet.
“We're going to be right outside, but you should be safe in here, you can bolt the door behind us if
you want.”
Still no response, I straightened up and walked over to Lane. I was having second thoughts about
leaving the gun. What if she decided to put a bullet in her own head. Lane unlocked the door and
walked out with his bat in one hand. I was still holding the fire poker. I realized it had zombie blood
all over one end, I hadn't touched that end, but I still wasn't going to take any chances. I dropped it
on the grass and Lane looked at me questioningly.
“My hands are trashed, that thing has got zombie blood on it. It's a
real
death stick.”
I always called Lane's cigarettes death sticks, so he knew what I meant, even though he ignored me.
He walked across the overgrown grass to the shed, opened the door, reached in and handed me a
shovel, then he pulled out another. He spent five minutes walking around the garden. If you'd have
asked me yesterday morning what I'd be doing this time today, picking out burial spots for Jasper
would not have crossed my mind.
“It's pretty.” I said, referring to all the different flowers.
Dumbest thing ever to say.
Lane didn't care about the flowers. He decided on a spot and left the shovel on the ground, but held
onto his bat. I kept hold of the shovel he had given me and followed him around the side of the
house. I slowed down just before we reached Jasper. His face was looking straight at us, chunks of
flesh were missing, it was so bad I could see all of his teeth and cheekbones, and he was missing an
eye. I took a few deep breaths and looked down the street. The image of Jasper's body was going to
be playing on my mind for months, possibly even years. Lane handed me his bat, then grabbed
Jasper by the feet, the safest part with the least blood, and dragged him across the street. He didn't
ask me to help. I wouldn't have been able to touch him anyway with all my cuts. I walked behind
him, keeping a lookout, avoiding the trail of blood leaking from Jasper's body.
Lane laid Jasper on the grass and picked up the shovel, and got straight to digging. In the far
distance the sky looked almost black, we needed to get this done before the downpour. After a few
minutes of digging my hands were in pain and irritating me, and preventing me from helping Lane
with the digging.
“Go get cleaned up,” Lane said, looking at my hands, before driving the shovel into the ground
again.
“Okay, but keep a lookout while I'm gone.”
I walked in through the back door, Stacey was still on the floor, she hadn't moved, or bothered to
lock the door. I searched the house for my bag and found it at the bottom of the stairs upside down.
I carried it back into the kitchen and dumped it on the side, I pulled out my water bottle, took a few
sips, and used the rest to clean myself up properly by using some paper towels I found under the
sink. I did the best I could, I really needed a hot shower and a pair of tweezers. I went upstairs and
dug through the bathroom cabinet and was lucky enough to find unopened gauzes. I wrapped both
my hands, it would have to do until I got back. I left Stacey in the kitchen, completely zoned out,
staring at the floor. I guess this little trip into town wasn't what she was expecting, once we got her
back I doubted she would ever go outside again.
I helped Lane as much as I could without getting in his way, and after nearly an hour and a half of
digging, the hole was deep enough and I was exhausted, thirsty, and my limbs ached. I didn't
complain out loud, though, at least, I still had all my limbs.
Lane dragged Jasper over, laid him down, then rolled him over the side. He tumbled down into the
dark hole, landing face down. Not the best way to enter one's grave.
“Do you want to say anything?” I asked, thinking he might like to say a few words.
But he just picked up the shovel and scooped up a load of dirt and tossed it into the hole.
I'll take that as a no.
We both quickly shoveled the dirt back into the hole, I think Lane wanted to get out of here now.
After the last shovel load, he crossed the garden without saying a word. I wondered what he was
doing until he walked back over with the birdbath and positioned it on top of the grave.
Nice touch, maybe we can plant some flowers while we're here.
I thought, inappropriately joking
inside my head.
“You ready to get out of here?” Lane asked, walking back to the house.
I ran around the grave, I didn't like the idea of running over it. I dashed inside the house just as the
rain started to pelt down. Inside I grabbed my things and located my hoodie behind the couch that
had the dead zombie sprawled out on it.
“Stacey, we're going, get you stuff.” I said, walking back into the kitchen. She reached for my gun,
keeping a firm grip on it, and slowly stood up, but she wasn't all there.
Lane walked into the kitchen. He had his rucksack on his back and Jasper's slung over his shoulder
as well. He looked at Stacey then pulled out his smokes.