Jake, Vinny, Meg, and their dad, Alfie, were playing a friendly game of Monopoly. For some reason, this game was always most appealing right before bedtime. Why? Because that stupid game never ends! It always started with a fight over who got to be the race car. Seriously, what’s so awesome about the stupid car? Give me the dog any day. The problem with Monopoly is that it’s never enough to just win. Opponents must be destroyed; their property’s seized without mercy and financially bankrupted. Basically, in order to play a successful round of Monopoly, you must crush your opponent’s will to live.
Vinny was losing and had run out of money. He landed on Park Place, currently owned by Alfie, and couldn’t pay the rent. His attempts to barter failed and he was forced to forfeit. Alas, poor little Vinny did not go softly into that good night. He jumped up from the table and threw the dice across the room, all the while wailing, “It’s not fair” and throwing the most epic tantrum in Rossi history.
So it should come as no surprise that Monopoly won the majority vote on our first game night. I’m happy to report there was no crying.
The air was crisp with the promise of winter and the breeze did nothing to take the edge off. Meg and I were outside hanging laundry while Daphne hunkered down on the lawn tearing the guts out of her plushy toy. She had long since killed the squeaker and apparently wanted to finish the job. Little white puffs of fuzz circled her small frame and she had bits stuck to the top of her head.
A single gunshot sounded out. This was something we’d become accustomed to, only this sounded much closer than usual. Our bungalow was situated at least a half a mile from the closest barricade location. The shot sounded more like a block away. The three of us froze where we were, looking in the direction of the disturbance. My arms were over my head holding a wet shirt, one hand squeezing a clothespin open, ready to clip. Meg was bent at the waist grabbing for the next item to be hung. Seconds passed as we stood there and listened. The silence engulfed us again and we twittered nervously and hung the last items to dry. I called Daphne and we went inside, sitting rigidly on the sofa in an awkward and apprehensive silence.
Another gunshot pierced the silence, followed by another, and then we heard the sound of an M4 on burst. There was no question in my mind that they were coming from inside our safe haven. We both sprang into action, grabbing our own rifles and bug-out bags. I stuffed Daphne in the canine travel bag I’d liberated from the deserted dog bakery and slung Jake’s bag over my shoulder, noticing Meg doing the same with Will’s. We stood behind the front door and caught our breath. Hands shaking, I gripped the knob. My palms were slick with sweat and I had to wipe them on my jeans and take a few slow breaths in an attempt to calm myself.
“You know what to do?” I asked Meg. She shook her head. Fear was coming off her in waves. The whites of her eyes shone, pupils constricted, and she bit her lower lip in a futile effort to stop them from quivering. “Get to the boat. The others should be on their way. Do not deviate from the plan.”
She shook her head again and repeated the plan back to me. “Get to the boat. Nothing else. I got it, Emma.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out as I turned the knob and opened the door. I laid my shoulder into the door as I opened it. In the event something was on the other side I was counting on that leverage to be able to slam it shut in a hurry. The street was empty; I had no idea if that was a good or bad sign. Outside, I could now hear screaming along with the sporadic gunfire.
“Go!” I shouted, and we took off at a jog down the street. I kept running, but of course I just had to look behind me and do yet another mental goodbye to a place I called home. Which was when I tripped over my own feet and went down like a sack of potatoes. My first thought was oh shit, I crushed Daphne. My second thought was OW! Pain swept across my chin and it felt warm and sticky.
Daphne was just fine. I had enough presence of mind to stop the fall with my face… not the dog. I could see through the mesh in the bag that she was shaking like a leaf, and I heard her whimpering. Meg helped me to my feet and I swiped a hand across my chin, immediately wishing I hadn’t when another jolt of pain nearly brought me back to the ground. I knew the damage was pretty bad but there was no time to think about it when a cluster of undead came into view.
A prone form lay on the ground in front of us. Encircling the body were no less than seven children emitting gurgly, bestial grunts as they ripped flesh from bone. A hand visible through a child zombie’s legs began to twitch and the group ceased their feasting, no longer interested in the reanimated corpse. The partially-eaten body of Nancy rose from the ground and stood towering over the children. I heard a strangled sob from behind me as Meg recognized our former friend.
The group started advancing on us and Gabby’s small body emerged from behind Nancy. Bright red blood oozed from dozens of small bites on her torso. Her left ear was separated from her head and hung loosely, swaying offensively as she shuffled forward. The nonslip rubber soles of her footie pajamas made a grating sound against the asphalt that could be heard over the grunts.
It felt like someone kicked me in the chest. My throat constricted, and I found it hard to breathe. I found myself rationalizing what I saw, but no amount of excuses or alternate explanations could explain away the hard truth: Nancy and Gabby were gone. When the group was within spitting range, we turned back toward the house and ran. Another group of undead were coming at us and soon we’d be boxed in on both sides and left with no place to run.
“Through the yards,” said Meg, and she took off running. We emerged on the other side of the back-to-back homes and onto the next street. The reverberations of a massive fight were louder and from the sounds of things, the good guys weren’t prevailing. Still though, the scene through the next set of houses was worse than anything I could dream up. It looked as if more than half the residents had fallen and were already back up. I saw flashes of uniforms amid the fray, but couldn’t make out any features belonging to anyone I knew.
Men, women, and children I’d come to know over the last month were being eaten alive right before my eyes. Every direction I turned a new gruesome scene played out like a Romero movie—arterial spray here, intestines there. It all blurred into one giant mass of carnage with pools of blood so wide they merged. I became aware of Meg trying to drag me away, and I tried to clear my head by shaking it.
“Emma, pull it together. Run!”
Chapter 30
I See Right Through You
I could see the sun reflecting back from the water as we emerged from between the last row of houses. Bloody scenes were unfolding between our current location and the dock. Our only option was to run. Saving ourselves meant watching others perish. If I survived, I’d fight those demons for the rest of my days. We sprinted along the back of the row of houses, dodging outstretched hands as we passed.
One second I was speeding by the bottom half of a body and the next I was tumbling through the air and splayed out on the grass. The impact knocked the wind out of me and I couldn’t scream as I watched Meg get further away. My ankle was stuck, and when I turned my head, I discovered the severed torso of Dale Ellis. With a death grip around my leg, he used my jeans to climb his way up my body. I kicked out with my free foot and caught him on the cheek, effectively popping the eyeball that hung by a bundle of nerves still attached to its socket. This did nothing to stop his ascent up my legs. Somehow I flipped onto my back and grabbed Dale’s shoulders, using the length of my arms to keep his face away from my skin. He struggled to gain purchase on my chest. One of my hands slipped off his shoulder and dug into his open chest cavity. The harder he pushed, the deeper my hand sunk. With one vicious snap forward from Dale, my hand exploded from a patch of exposed rib and through one of the many wounds on his back, and I saw the sun through the new opening. Momentum carried him forward and his face was a hair length away from mine. The coppery scent of fresh blood on his breath wafted to my nose and I was able to shift my other hand from his shoulder and jam my elbow under his chin. My stamina began to wane, each second that passed found Dale inching closer to sweet victory. I let out a bellow rivaling a warrior charging into battle and gave a final shove. But I was spent. My arm shook with tremors and I had gassed out.