When the Dead (13 page)

            “Creepy,”
Molly said, eyeing a bright pink My Little Pony horse that stood atop the
mailbox. Vaughn may have put the toy there to mark the house or it might have
been left by the child who had owned it. Either way it hurt for Molly to look
at it. She was pretty sure it was a happy childhood that had ended. They walked
past the large dining room window of the house; its curtains were open. The
flowers on the table inside were dead; never to be replaced with a fresher
bouquet. The front door was unlocked.

            “Creepier!”
Molly shivered.

“Don’t worry,” Vaughn said as he touched her back, “I left it unlocked
last time I was here and zombies break windows, they don’t turn doorknobs
honey.”

Molly moved away from his hand.  “Don’t touch me unless I ask you to.”

“So there’s hop-,” Vaughn started.

“It will
never
happen.”

Inside, they secured the house by checking every room and closing all the
windows and doors. After Molly closed the heavy drapes of the dining room she took
the vase off the table and threw it, and the dead flowers, away.

The hallway walls were lined with family pictures. In one of the images
an immortalized little girl, owner of the pony and all the toys in the pink
bedroom upstairs, stared back at Ben. He felt on the verge of breaking down
right there in the middle of the unfamiliar hallway. He and Anna had talked
about marrying and having a child, hopefully a little girl, someday. Without
Anna those plans were only dreams now, or sad memories.

Once the house was clear and secured, they gathered in the kitchen pantry.
Ben felt pure elation, a world away from the sorrow he’d just held on to. The
pantry was fully stocked with plenty of canned and dry goods for the taking.
Molly and Vaughn carefully sorted through the items and loaded everything they
could into Ben’s backpack. This might be easy after all, he hoped, as he hauled
the sack full of loot back onto his back.

“On to the next place then,” Vaughn said, satisfied with what they’d
taken. They left Pink Horse and were moving on to Dead Lawn when Ben stopped.

“Look over there!” he whispered and pointed to the entry to the housing
development. A corpse was moving towards them but hadn’t seen or otherwise
sensed their presence.

“Wait for it to turn away and then move as fast as you can to the next
house,” Vaughn told them. The corpse, as though he heard Vaughn’s suggestion
and thought it a good one, turned away and exited the development. “Go!” Vaughn
said just above a whisper.

Dead
Lawn was just that. Dead. The owners hadn’t taken care of it or the home either.
The house had been built, like the others in the neighborhood, within the last
ten years. But it was in such a state of disrepair that it had aged twice as
many years, looking like it would fall over in less than ten more. The dead
grass crunched under Molly’s feet as she made her way to the front door.

            “We
can’t go in that way. It’s locked,” Vaughn said. “We have to go in on the
side.” He showed them to a window into the garage that hinged at its top. It
opened inward with a push of his hands.

They took turns climbing into the window and onto a convenient stack of
boxes inside. The garage was dark and packed with junk and shadows. Across the
garage Molly could make out the door that led into the house because it was
cracked open slightly and some light was peeking through. She focused on the
tall crack of light as she moved towards it, bumping into a bicycle and what
felt like a plastic Christmas tree. Ben or Vaughn, she couldn’t tell who,
stepped on a squeaky toy and swore into the darkness. Molly watched in fear as
a shadow moved past the crack of light. Something was on the other side of the
door. She stifled a gasp and lifted her bat.

“Put it down, it’s a dog. A very
friendly
dog I might add,” Vaughn
said, his voice booming in the darkness and quiet of the garage. Molly lowered
the bat and pushed the door open. A large, dirty dog stood before her, tail
wagging ecstatically.

“Cute!” Molly ran and embraced Cheddar, allowing him to lick her face and
to thrust his paw towards her. “I love dogs!” she exclaimed as she silently
read his name off his collar’s tag.

 “Good,
you
can shake that paw then.” Vaughn had a strange hint of
relief in his voice.

“He knows tricks?” she asked, looking around for a treat or something to
give the dog.

“I wouldn’t call that a trick. It’s more of an annoyance. It gets old
fast.”

            “I’ll
play with you all you want, Cheddar. Vaughn just doesn’t like anything cute or
friendly. Don’t take it personally.” She talked to the dog’s face as though it
could understand her but really she was enjoying an opportunity to put Vaughn
down in a playful manner.

            “I
like plenty of cute things especially if they are willing to get friendly with
me,” Vaughn said with a wink as he stared down at her.

            “Don’t
touch me with your eyes either, Vaughn.” Molly looked at her shirt to make sure
he couldn’t see down it.

            “You’re
too young to be a prude.”

            “And
you’re old and alone. How is that working for you?”

She looked directly and defiantly into his eyes.

            Ben
wasn’t around. He had left them to check the house. Vaughn wanted to smack
Molly for the insult, watch her body fall across the floor but she toppled over
without his help. Cheddar had pushed his paw full force into Molly’s shoulder,
making her lose her balance. She hit the floor with a thud and burst out
laughing. Vaughn laughed too, dissipating the tension of the moment.

“I told you,” Vaughn said. “He’ll do that all day long.”

            Molly
reached out to Cheddar, jokingly asking for his help to lift her off the floor.
He extended his paw again and Molly took it as she returned to a more upright
position. Molly and Vaughn walked further into the house and Ben rejoined them
in the kitchen.

            “That
dog hasn’t gone to the bathroom inside at all.” Ben noted.
            “He uses a doggie door to let himself out back.” Vaughn pointed to
a flexible rectangle set low in a door at the end of the galley kitchen.

            “It
looks like he’s a self-sufficient pup,” Molly said as she stepped over the huge
bag of kibble that lay ripped open on the kitchen floor. Crumbs sprinkled the
outer edge of the mess like an asteroid belt.

 “I put that there for him you know. And the water bowl too. I’m not a
total asshole.”

            Molly
said nothing in response. Ben had already begun looking through cabinets for
rations and chose to ignore the comment. Three of the lower cabinets in the
kitchen were filled with cans of vegetables and fruit. It was Molly’s turn to
load up her backpack. Ben also managed to fit a few more cans into his own bag,
having to sacrifice some baked beans to make sure the zipper could still close.

Vaughn switched out the water in the dog bowl. Molly gave the dog a rawhide
bone she’d found in a cabinet and pet his head. She bent down and shook his paw
delicately. “It was so nice to meet you Cheddar. Thanks for the people food.”

They climbed back out the window of the garage.

“Is that dog the reason you don’t use the front door?” Ben asked Vaughn.

Vaughn nodded. “The world is a dangerous place. He’d meet all sorts of
people and end up shaking the wrong one’s hand.”

With Molly
gone on an unwanted adventure, no one was focused on watching Jill and the
baby. Concern in her had dropped three days prior, when she’d stopped looking
for Austin. He hadn’t shown up and Jill was defeated and decidedly saner. No
one could be sure why Austin picked that day, that moment, to shamble back into
view and back into Jill’s life. From around the corner by the convenience store
his torn and rotting body slowly made its way towards its old home.

“Come on baby. Let’s go see if Molly is back yet.” Jill said as she
picked up her child and walked outside to the balcony. “Do you see her
anywhere? There’s a lot of people down there but not the one we are looking
for.” Jill’s eyes scanned the crowd of undead, searching for quick movements or
changes in direction that would signal the group’s return. Her eyes fell on a
head covered in patchy red hair and her heart leapt.

“It’s daddy! Annabella look! Do you see him?” Jill hurried back inside to
grab the backpack-like baby carrier. She placed Annabella in it and strapped it
tightly to her back. She walked back to the balcony and leaned over the edge.
“Austin! Honey, it’s me! Look who I have here!” She yelled as she pushed the
fire escape ladder into position for her descent.

“Did you
hear that?” Edward asked Moira as they sat at home in 206. Edward had been
reading an old newspaper that had been printed just before the world fell
apart. It was filled with stories that didn’t matter anymore, issues that had
been resolved overnight, and photos of people that were most assuredly dead or
undead now. Still, he found it interesting.

            “Maybe
Molly and the others are back!” Moira exclaimed happily as she put her
crossword puzzle down and grabbed a sweater. Edward followed his wife out to
the balcony. They were speechless for a minute as they watched Jill continue
her climb down the neighboring balcony’s fire ladder.

            “Jill!”
Moira whispered. She didn’t want to draw more attention from the undead
gathering below. Jill paid her no mind and instead began yelling to her
deceased husband once more.

            “Austin,
come here! Annabella won’t stop talking about how much she wants to meet you.”

            “What
is she saying? That baby can’t talk,” Edward said, confused.

            “She’s
crazy. Stark raving mad and it’s going to get them killed. Go get Isobel,”
Moira said with a slight gesture toward the apartment behind them and hallway
beyond. Edward did as his wife told him and returned with Isobel a moment
later.

They gathered on the balcony and called to Jill urgently. She was moving
slowly down the ladder but she had finally made it to the bottom rung and let
go, dropping to the ground and nearly falling backward onto her child. Austin had
arrived on the small lawn that surrounded the building. Jill ran through the
corpses that had gathered around her, driven by love and devotion to her idea
of family. She continued calling his name and he moved toward her but she was
mistaken in thinking that it was his name, or any sort of recognition, that was
drawing him. Just as eagerly, dozens more of the undead and unknown were coming
nearer, as though they might all happen to be named Austin. The real Austin was
three feet away when Jill took off the carrier, set it upright on the ground,
and pulled the baby gently out of it.

“No!” Isobel yelled. “Jill, stop it! He’s going to kill you!”

At this comment Jill finally acknowledged Edward, Moira and Isobel. She
turned to them and smiled but said nothing. They watched, terrified of the
reunion below. What should be a thing of beauty and happiness, a family reunited,
turned nauseating as Jill presented the newborn child to Austin.

“It’s our baby, Annabella,” Jill said through a half sob, half maniacal
laugh. The baby, its arms and legs wiggling around, cooed and spit up. Its
healthy pink flesh contrasting wildly against the grays and blacks of Austin’s
rotting hands as they took the baby. There was no fatherly love or care in his
grasp.

            “We
can’t watch this. We can’t,” Moira said to the others. Isobel and Edward
followed her back into 206. Outside, Austin lifted his child and brought it to
his lips, not to kiss, but to devour. The oversize knit cap, now speckled with
blood, fell from Annabella’s head to the ground. Her blood fell onto Jill’s
face and into Jill’s mouth; she was still laughing insanely. Soon the blood
mixed with her own, as Austin and the other zombies devoured her too.