Sunday, June 28, 2009

Memoirs Of The Dead pt. 3

I don't remember much from that night we spent in the dollar store. The adrenaline must've hazed out a lot of the night. I do remember the moaning though, and the scratching; and thinking that it was going to drive me mad. I've spent so many nights now in various safe houses around the countryside. Nothing will ever compare to the utter terror I felt lying on the makeshift bed of blankets and pillows on the cold tile floors of that store. I thought the daylight would never come. The daylight, I would later find, could hold more horrors than any night could ever bring.

DAY 2

The maddening moans and scratches coming from outside the store hadn't hindered Jackson's ability to sleep. He lay there, dead to the world, snoring like nobody's business; oblivious to the end of days on our doorstep. The sun was above the horizon and I knew I would be getting no sleep. I just sat there staring at Jackson sleeping like a rock while the rest of the world huddled in fear of the oncoming bus that was death. I thought Jackson was either an extremely gifted person or extremely stupid. I eventually settled on the latter. He came across as a brutish man on the outside with his 30 year old body and his redneck demeanor but, I knew on the inside he was a scared little kid unable to comprehend what was going on. He was a coward in a fight, and an all around pussy when work needed to be done. It was just my luck that I was the one stuck babysitting him. I figured at least, if it came down to it, in a chase, I could trip him for a quick escape. Nobody would miss him.

I figured as long as Jackson was dead to the world I should at least try to find out what was going on. I made a quick search of the store for a T.V. but there was none to be found. The store didn't have much; just cheap-ass clothes and food. I did find a radio in the back room of the store that would work. I carried the radio to the front of the store where I had made my makeshift bed and plugged it into the wall. I remember thinking before I started listening to any grotesque reports I was going to need to get some caffeine in my bloodstream.

There was a soda machine in the front of the store. I was just lucky enough that I had a dollar on me. I put my dollar in the machine and pressed the button for a soda. Nothing. I pressed the button a few more times with the same effect. I was a little annoyed at the fact the machine took my only dollar. Hit coin return; nothing. Shook the machine; Still nothing. Finally, reaching the height of my anger, I unleashed a kick to the machine's front. The kick rattled the machine and the door creaked ajar. The aroma of death filled the air. Filled with sudden fright I quickly searched around for a weapon. There was an umbrella stand by the registers. I thought its better than nothing. I ran to the stand, grabbed an umbrella and crept back to the machine. Grabbing the door I took a deep breath and jerked it open, the sight was nauseating.

Inside the machine was the mangled, twisted body of what I could only guess was a woman. Her head was smashed down the center of her skull, turning it into a freakish canoe. Each limb was twisted and broken, some of them woven into the machine parts around them. I held back the bile rising in my esophagus. I could see an employee nametag with the name Martha on it. I quickly reached past Martha, half expecting her to spring to life, and grabbed my soda; closing the door behind me. I shook off the image and opened the soda, took a long swig as if I hadn't had a drink in days. I glanced through the glass doors to the creatures outside. Still there, waiting for us. The lower piece of glass that I had cracked coming into the store caught my attention. The constant bumping against it, from those things outside, had caused the fracture to spider out more. We wouldn't be able to stay there much longer.

I returned to finding out what was going on. I flipped the radio on and began to tune looking for any sign of life. I stopped at what I guessed was a military broadcast that was in the process of trying to explain things. Apparently, these malicious creatures were called "Zombies". The broadcast continued on to say that it was a infection of some sort that allowed the infected to turn ordinary people into creatures like them; though it was unsure if it was blood-borne, airborne, or chemical in origin. They also reported that the best way to kill them would be to pump as many bullets into them as possible or beat them until they no longer move. The radio also said there had been rumors that destroying the brain worked well. The report went on for a bit longer explaining the best places to take refuge and evacuation point locations.

When the radio broadcast had ended, I noticed Jackson was sitting up in his improvised cot. He was looking around the store as if he had forgotten where he was. He yawned and looked at me like he was going to say something, but just yawned again. I stared at him like I was watching a creature on the national geographic channel. He was such an idiot.

"Hey man, what's going on?" Jackson finally said to me through another yawn.

"Uh, nothing." It was all I could produce. Plenty of other answers like "the apocalypse" and "just waiting to die" came to mind but I let them go so as not to ruin whatever relationship we had at this point. I mean, for all I knew he and I were the only people still alive. The radio broadcast could have been a recording and no one would be answering the telephones.

"What's your name, by the way? I don't think I ever asked." he asked me apathetically.

"Grady." I replied, followed by, "Hey listen, man, I think we need to pack up some stuff around here and move somewhere safer, maybe even look for other people."

"You mind if I sleep another hour or so before we do that? I didn't get much sleep."

I knew from being awake the entire night that that was a blatant lie. Jackson had managed to sleep for what was going on 9 hours now and he still wanted more sleep, and I thought I was a lazy bastard!

"No man, the glass on the front door is cracked and if we stay here too long the zombies outside will get in." I said using the new lingo I had learned on the radio.

"Zombies?" Jackson questioned me

"Yeah, it's what the news is calling them."

"The news was here?"

Really? I thought, He is really that retarded. It took a few seconds to process that genius statement before I could answer.

"Nah, man, I heard it on the radio. Now get up and start getting ready; we should pack some bags up and head out. I think I saw a roof access sign in the back room."

He looked puzzled for a second like I had just given a math problem to him and asked him to answer it.

"Alright," he said to me, "but I'm going to need a drink before I can do anything."

I pointed to the front of the store and told Jackson there was a soda machine there deliberately neglecting to tell him about the dead body. He slowly rose to his feet and slid his pants back on, which I personally felt was a sight I really could have done without. He headed to the front of the store as I began mentally listing the things we should grab before we headed out. The next thing I heard told me the day was going to be a good one. It was the sound of Jackson screaming like a little girl, followed by the sound of him gagging up what little food was in his stomach.

I grinned pleasantly to myself and yelled, "Say hi to Martha for me!"

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Memoirs Of The Dead pt. 2

"Hey!"

My body jarred hard from the startling, and my mind snapped back from the dark thoughts that had been racing through my head. I whipped my head to the side and was starring face to face with a tall, blonde-haired, blued-eyed man, who had just snuck up on me ninja style. He introduced himself as Jackson. He was a tall man with a closely groomed goatee, long, thick mutton chops and tattoos covering his arm. He looked ridiculous.

He told me he had locked himself out of his house and he had to sleep in his car because the locksmith and cops hadn't answered or some shit like that. I wasn't really listening because my eyes kept getting drawn to the store window. I tried to mention the blood but Jackson kept interrupting to finish his story.

"Hey, you listening to me man? I said I need some help if it's alright with you. Do you mind giving me a hand? I'm only like a few blocks from here." Jackson said to me.

I began to tell Jackson I had just come to the store to get some food because I was hungry, but before I could finish, Jackson cut me off again.

"What the fuck!" Jackson blurted out suddenly.

I heard a bell ring behind me, before I could figure out what he had been talking about. As I turned around, I saw a grossly pale figure standing at the door of the store, glaring at us. The man standing was a good six feet tall and easily weighing in the 200lbs range, not moving, just staring. Blood covered the man's lower face and dripped from his jaw. The life somehow seemed drained from his dark, cold eyes. Before a single word could be said, the ghastly figure opened his mouth to speak.

"Uuuuggnnnhh!"

The garbled mess of literacy that came from the man's mouth was chilling and curdled the blood racing through my veins. I could do nothing but stare in amazement the way a crowd stares in awe at a train wreck or an auto crash.

Jackson called to the man asking if everyone was alright, slowly moving towards him. Jackson moved closer to the man, but the man made no other attempt to talk or even move for that matter; he just glared at us. Jackson was a few feet from the man when he spoke again. It was not so much speaking as grunt as if choking on something. I remember the choking sound was watery and sticky from the amount of blood that seemed to be coming from his mouth. As he put his hand on the man's shoulder, Jackson said he just wanted to help.

The strange man exploded forward before anything else could be said, tackling Jackson to the ground and began clawing at his face and body. Jackson was doing his best to keep the man's face back as he gnashed his teeth and lunged at him.

"Get'em off me, get'em off me!" Jackson yelled to me over the man's grunts and groans.

I suddenly snapped back to reality. I looked to the ground and searched for anything that could help. Ten feet away, I caught the glint of a metal pipe lying on the ground. Out of instinct alone, I ran to the pipe, grabbing it from the ground and hurried back to Jackson. I let my momentum build as I ran and swung the pipe with every ounce of muscle I had. The swing hit home as it found the side of the attacker's face. Blood splattered all over me and chunks of flesh littered my shirt. The man flew off Jackson and landed in a mangled, twisted pose. I went to help Jackson back to his feet.

I ask Jackson if he was alright, knowing that no one is ok after being attacked by someone. Jackson said me he was fine as he panted and searched the rest of his body for injuries.

"If his fingernails were any longer, I think I'd be fucked right now." I remember Jackson saying.

I looked to the spot where the man landed and saw he was already to his knees. Jackson yelled at the man that he was going to hit him with the pipe again if he tried to move. The man slowly rose to his feet, back facing us. He didn't appear to be disoriented at all nor was he wavering on his feet. As he began to turn toward us, the damage from the pipe became shockingly clear. His skull was deeply dented and obviously broken, and as he turned further, I could see he was missing an eye as well as most of the flesh from around his socket. The eye hadn't gone far though; I stared in horror as I realized it was hanging down to the man's neck by its optic nerve. He grabbed his hanging eye without a sound and tried to shove it back into the eye socket. The force he used created a sucking noise from his socket and blood bubbled out as he continued to try to push it in. The man made no sounds of pain or any indication that I had just collapsed part of his head. Jackson and I could only stare in amazement as he plucked the eye from its hanging cord like a grape from its stem after failing to fit the eye back into his head, then stared at it for a moment before popping it into his mouth. A wave of nausea hit me as I could hear the juicy, swishing sounds as he chewed his ill-begotten meal and swallowed it down. The man then turned his focus back to us.

The man was glaring at us again, only this time through the one eye he had left. He began moving toward us in a twitchy, shuffling manner, as if the blow to his head had fucked up his movement on the right side of his body. His pace quickened, and he raised his arms like he was trying to grab the first of us to get close to him. Without thinking, I lifted my new found weapon and unleashed blow after blow upon the man's body. I landed hammering blows to his arms, legs and torso, but the man was unflinching, even to the sounds of shattering bone coming from his limbs. Finally, in a frantic struggle to put the man down for good, I began to strike at the man's head over and over again. My vision went red as the man fell to the ground and my bludgeoning continuously until the smoke cleared from my head. I was doing nothing more, at this point, then smashing skull fragments into the bloody pavement.

"Jesus man, I think you killed him." I recall Jackson stating in almost shock. "I think he's dead."

I focused all the energy I had left to speak, but all I could muster was a pathetic, "Yeah." I wanted to say something more like "of course he's dead, he has no fucking head" or "really, dumbass, you think" but I just didn't have it in me to say anything more. I did however; hear the sudden sounds of shuffling footsteps around me. Then, over all the shuffling, a sound echoed through the air I thought I never wanted to hear again. A chorus of blood chilling moans and groans emanated behind us.

"Uuuuggnnnhh!"

My energy was suddenly back, and my grip on my weapon tightened. I whipped my body around to see a sight that would have made me scream if all the air hadn't already left my lungs. All around us were more pale-skinned, lifeless people moping towards us. Each of the people making their way to us was grotesque, missing various body parts and covered in blood. There was no way I could kill all of them; there must have twenty of them at least. I did the only thing that made sense to me at that moment.

I yelled frantically at Jackson to follow me into the store. The inhuman creatures were closing in on us as we made our way to the entrance. I made it to the door before Jackson and was half tempted to just lock myself inside, but for some weird reason, I knew I might need him, especially if there were any of those things inside.

One of the creatures lunged at Jackson before he could make it to me, grabbing hold of his shirt. I yelled, tossing the bar to him to defend himself, not wanting to lose my ground at the doors. Jackson grabbed the bar out of the air and swung wildly at what appeared to have been a woman grabbing at him; the bar landed across her forearms and splintered the bones. Blood sprayed his face. Jackson let go of the bar out of fear, and quickly cleared the distance between him and the store. I jerked the door open, letting it swing and smack the brick wall. The glass on the door cracked slightly. Putting it to the back of my mind, I grabbed the door handle, pulled the door close and locked it before the creatures could make it to us. Still out of breath and with the adrenaline pumping through my body, I said the only thing I could manage at that point. I'll never forget what I said.

"Nice job, pussy, you dropped our only weapon!"

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Memoirs Of The Dead

Day 1

I remember the sunlight burned my eyes as I groggily came out of the deep nap I had covertly slipped into. The house was quiet around me. I couldn't hear my parents upstairs, but then again the basement ceiling muffled most of the sounds from the house anyway. I felt like lying back down and napping another eight hours, but I needed to piss and was hungry. I was hoping my mom had breakfast made for me because I sure as hell didn't plan on making anything. I was always lazy like that. I fumbled my way up the stairs to see what the day had in store. If only I had known it was going to be the day my life was going to change forever I would have put on clean underwear.

I entered the kitchen; I couldn't hear anything going on in the house. I looked through the kitchen for something to eat. The fridge was sparse with nothing but condiments. I checked the pantry, followed by the cabinets with nothing to show. Getting fucking annoyed at the fact there was nothing to eat and my stomach was empty, I called out to my parents. Nothing. There was no movement and no sound. I called a few more times with the same empty response. I figured my parents must be at the store getting food, so I searched for a note. After looking in the usual places, I came up empty-handed with no idea where my parents were. I remember giving them a few, quick rings on their cell phone, but when that failed, I gave up and plopped myself in front of the TV.

I had been watching TV for what was close to 3 hours before my still empty stomach began to rumble again. Since I had been sitting there, starving with no idea where parents were hours, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I decided to head the dollar store down the road. I would've taken my car, but I hadn't had it running since high school. So I had a 10 minute walk instead of a 2 minute ride, but life has got a funny way of fucking you before you even know it.

The streets seemed quieter than usual as I strolled down to the store. No birds chirping, no bugs buzzing. Nothing. The walk seemed eerie even for the middle of the day. I felt my flesh chill and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I sped my pace. I remember looking for some sign of civilization to calm my racing heart. I felt like a child awake in the middle of the night, staring nervously at an open closet, waiting for the beast within to appear in some hellish manner. The suburban road felt abandoned, and the houses along the road felt haunted as if I could sense something watching my every movement through the darkened windows. As I rounded the corner of the intersection, I could see the Dollar symbol on the store and it immediately calmed my anxiety.

Closing the distance to the store, the windows seemed darker than usual. I racked my brain thinking whether there was a holiday that could've kept the store closed but drew a blank and continued to make my way to the entrance. A few hundred feet from the store, I could see a mysterious shape on the glass doors. A blob of some sort like someone had thrown black paint against it. The closer I got to the doors, the more the blob began to change colors before my eyes from black to red. Within a hundred feet of the store, I could see that is wasn't a blob at all; instead it looked as though it was the smear from a bloody hand or some other injured body part. I froze dead in my tracks, unable to comprehend why there would be blood on the store front doors. I looked around, noticing the parking lot around me was empty. Had someone been hurt? A quick flash in the corner of my eye snatched me from my thoughts. Fucking Movement! I thought there may have been something moving inside the store. I waited in dead silence. Terror was building in the back of my head. Tunnel vision set in. Gooseflesh overtook my skin again.

So many thoughts were running through my head at that point I couldn't even comprehend what I should do. My mind became overwhelmed with curiosity and I began to inch closer to the store. My eyes darted back and forth from the blood on door to the blackness inside. Another flash in the corner of my eye, and I was sure I had seen movement. I was now within 50 feet of the store. I peered hard into the dark abyss of the store. My heart thumped hard in my ears, and I forced my eyes to focus. A silhouette appeared from the darkness.