“Then what?” Sally asked, peering out onto the dark street.
“Then we shoot the bastards in the head,” he replied. “Like in the movies. I mean, they’re zombies or somethin’, right? That’s what you do with them. You ain’t ever seen Night of the Living Dead?”
Grant knew he was dating himself. Of course, there had been countless movies and TV shows about the rising dead, but he wasn’t much of a movie buff. He spent most of his time in his house, so if it wasn’t something that came on basic cable, he probably hadn’t seen it. He appreciated shows like Antique Roadshow and Storage Wars. Television programs with furniture on them often gave him ideas for projects.
Jesus, you really are a boring son of a bitch. What would a woman like Sally see in you anyway?
Here they were, crouched down behind a big oak bookshelf, hiding from whatever sickness was spreading on the other side of the shop window, and he was thinking about romance. In his mind, he might somehow become the hero of this situation and win the girl’s affections in the end.
“It’s dark enough now, I think,” he said as he stood from their hiding place and made his way over to the door.
Sally didn’t budge. “Wait, what? We are not going out there.”
“We can’t stay in here forever.”
“Forever? It’s only been hours.”
“It’s been all day. I know where we need to go. It’s not that far away and in the darkness, we should be able to hide.”
“Hide? We’re hiding now.” She looked at him with her eyes watering. “I don’t even know if my family is okay.”
He crossed the room and held his hand out to her. She refused to take it at first but then accepted it and rose to her feet.
“We ain’t gonna be able to check on your family from in here,” he said.
“We don’t even know if those things see, hear, smell… I mean they’re human, right? They should be able to do whatever humans do.”
“Sure as hell seemed like it back at the diner.”
Grant walked to the floor-to-ceiling glass window and peered out at the dark street. He was surprised he didn’t see burning cars or anything else destroyed the way things always were in scenes of the aftermath of riots or other periods of mass hysteria. From where he stood, Main Street looked no different than it would any other night. In the dark, it looked quite peaceful.
The streetlamps were on a timer and they popped on as he stared out, causing him to jump away from the window.
“For the love of God!” he yelled.
Sally giggled behind him, and when he turned toward her, he saw she had her hand over her mouth, laughing into it. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen, and soon after, he was laughing with her.
“You should have seen how high you jumped,” she squealed.
“Scared the bejesus out of me,” he admitted.
She stepped toward the window, still laughing, and stood next to him. With the street illuminated, all didn’t look as safe as it had seconds ago. The sidewalk across the street was stained with blood, a spray of it, like someone had gotten cut badly. The body it belonged to was nowhere in sight.
“Do you think they eat the bodies?” she asked.
“Back at the diner, it looked like they take over the body, like some kind of blood-sucking parasite.”
“Vampires?”
It was his turn to chuckle. This time she didn’t join him. He hadn’t meant to be insensitive, but the word vampire sounded childish. Like something out of a scary book. He didn’t think Clydesville was being overrun by the fanged undead.
As if staring into an underwater view through one of those thick glass viewpoints at Sea World, Grant felt safe inside. The sharks were on the other side, with the fish, not in here where it was warm and dry. Did he really want to venture out there onto the street? Did he really want to put Sally’s life at risk? He didn’t. He preferred the company he had. For a moment, he considered staying put. They could ride out the initial phase of this storm and then maybe those things would starve to death or kill each other or maybe simply fall down and die. Maybe the damn army would show up and wipe them out.
And what if they don’t? You can’t stay in here forever.
He’d zoned out only for a moment, lost in his thoughts when a bloody hand slapped the window in front of them. The thwack was so loud and so unexpected that Grant and Sally both jumped this time.
Dragging himself down the sidewalk was one of the creatures. It looked like a man. Of course, it did. They all appeared to be human. This one wore a ripped and bloody park ranger uniform.
“Don’t move,” Grant said softly from the corner of his lip.
If they didn’t budge. If they remained stoic, maybe the thing would think they were mannequins. Maybe it sensed movement and by not giving it anything to chase, it would continue down the sidewalk in search of someone else to attack.
Grant’s heart pounded in his chest. He’d seen how strong and how fast they were. If it turned toward them now, it might be able to throw itself through the window. Then what? They could run. They could try to make it to the back door. Sally was faster than he was, so he might be able to save her if she ran and didn’t look back, but then he would become one of them, wouldn’t he?
“Grant?” Sally whispered, her voice quivering with fear.
“Don’t move,” he repeated.
It slapped its bloody hand against the window once more, leaving a red handprint a few feet away from the first. It could barely hold itself up and needed the window for support.
The thing had long, greasy hair and a beard. Grant thought he recognized him. Or who he used to be before he was changed. He didn’t know the man personally, but he’d seen him around. He was one of those folks who left Clydesville at some point and then decided to move back. A lot of people did that.
They would be okay. The thing was almost past them. He wasn’t going to see them.
It slapped the window again, leaving another red palm print on the glass, and this time it was so close to Sally’s face, she accidentally flinched.
The thing whipped its head to the right and glared right into Sally’s eyes.
She screamed.
It slapped the window harder.
“Let me in!” it demanded.
“Back up,” Grant ordered.
Sally stepped back, and he grabbed her by the hand. They would run for the door.
“Please,” the man outside said, “let me in.”
His eyes weren’t angry. They’d been determined. Now, they were hopeful. The man pulled a gun from his belt and pointed it at the glass.
“Grant!” Sally cried.
“I’m not one of them!” the man outside said. “I promise. Please. Let me in. It’s dangerous out here.”
“What do you think?” Grant asked Sally.
“Hal?” she asked.
“You know him?” Grant asked.
Sally didn’t reply. She went to the door, unlocked it, and pulled the door open for him.
“Oh, thank God,” Hal said as he fell through the door and landed on the floor.
He was hurt. His hair was matted with a mixture of sweat and blood. Sally dropped to her knees beside him.
“Hal, what are you doing out here?” she asked.
“I wrecked my truck,” he said. His lips were dry and cracked. His tongue stuck to them as he tried to speak.
“He needs water,” Sally said.
Grant only stared down at the man. He didn’t know Hal, but he knew the man was beat the hell up. He’d been out there on the street, in the war zone, and had seen things that had him practically paralyzed with fear.