Zombie War

“Excuse me?” I watched the back of the kid’s head as I spoke, but he didn’t move. Well, he didn’t make any movement showing that he had heard me. I sighed, taking a quick look around the store to see if there was anyone who may come up to the counter anytime soon. There wasn’t, I noticed, as I walked around the counter and toward the guy. He was the only customer around and I was the only person working the front. Margaret, one of the assistant managers, was in the back office, most likely chewing a wad of gum and reading a steamy romance novel.

I stood a few feet from the boy, watching his face. I coughed slightly, trying to catch his attention. He looked quickly in my direction, back to the screen and then back at me again. I was a little nervous, addressing this kid so late at night. I was still somewhat new at this job; I only planned on working at the Come-N-Go Gas Station over the summer, part-time, until I went away to college in the fall. I wiped my hands on my jeans, saying, “We have to turn the machines off at eleven.”

He nodded, turning away from the machine. “Ah, well. I wasn’t getting anywhere anyway.” He nodded again, in my direction, before moving around me and out the door.

I shook my head slightly. That kid had been here before my shift started at three and here I was, getting ready to leave at eleven. He had stood there, sometimes bent over and sometimes not, making no noise aside from the few grunts that came as he stared at the screen and toggled with the joystick and the buttons on the game board.

I took a look at the name across the top of the game box, Zombie War.

-

For the next few weeks, I could find the same kid in front of the Zombie War game almost every day. I was half convinced that he was somehow paying nothing to play the game, which I wouldn’t be surprised if he was (what would a gas station game be if it didn’t function right?), until he came to the counter one morning for change.

“You must really be into that game,” I said, popping open the register.

“Oh yeah,” he said, throwing a smile in my direction. A very bright, white smile, I noticed. I found myself smiling back as he asked, “Have you ever played?”

“Me? No. I’m not really sure if anyone has ever played it before, actually.”

He chuckled slightly, grinning. I handed him his change. He looked behind him, where a little line was forming of business men and women holding their hot cups of coffee, waiting to pay. He looked at the little display beside the register, plucking a pack of gum from it and placing it on the counter.

“I’d like to buy this package of gum,” he said. I laughed, ringing up his purchase.

“That’ll be 79 cents,” I said.

He pulled out his wallet, looking for the correct change, before handing me a dollar. “Here’s a dollar. My name’s Garrett.”

I opened the cash register again, counting out two dimes and a penny, pulling off his receipt. “Your change is twenty-one cents. I’m Devin. Have a nice day and come again!”

“I plan on it,” he said, sending a wave in my direction as he headed for the game machine. As the next customer, a balding man with a ruddy face, a large cup of coffee and a package of mini donuts hurried forward I was dimly aware of the possible double meaning in Garrett’s words.

-

“Devin, you have to come here!” My head snapped up, fast, and I looked toward the front of the store. Sure enough, Garrett was standing there, grinning and motioning for me to come closer. I look around the Come-N-Go to see if the absence of immediately refilling the popcorn popper will be missed too terribly, but I see that the registers are manned and no one is writhing on the floor in need of popped corn kernels. I rest the heavy bag of kernels on the ground beside the machine, walking slowly to where I was ‘needed’.

“How can I help you?” I said, careful to keep an eye on the steadily moving lines.

Garrett smiled. “I’m making progress,” he pointed to the screen. There wasn’t much going on on screen; there were only a few words in the middle of the screen in white, while the rest of it was splattered with blood.

I looked up at Garrett, who was looking at me, a grin still on his face. I smiled too, though what for I wasn’t sure, saying, “Uh-huh.”

He laughed, shaking his head. He pointed at the screen, his finger tracing along the second line. They weren’t really words there, just letters that didn’t spell out anything. “See, it’s a code, so I can get back to this level. So, now, when I come in I don’t have to start over at the very beginning.”

I nodded, now understanding. “You’re never gonna quit this game, are ya?”

“Oh no,” he said, face solemn. “Once I start something, I don’t quit. So expect to see my face for at least a couple more weeks.”

I bit my bottom lip, staring at the screen. “Well, maybe, if I’m lucky, next it will be some type of code that will skip you to the last level.”

“Aha!”He cried, “Let’s hope not.”

“If you say so,” I looked to the counter again. It was then that I noticed Margaret shuffling out of her back room office, one of her romance novels tucked under her arm. “I have to go,” I whispered to him, already reversing to the back of the store, as if to play off my absence from my popcorn popping duties as a sudden urge to tidy up the candy shelves.

Garrett raised a hand, waving me away with a small, concealed smile. I made an attempt to wave back, but he was already reaching into his back pocket for a scrap of paper to scribble down his cheat code on.

-

I had spent a little over a month handing Garrett quarters in exchange for bills, acting excited with him when he gained another cheat code and being sad when he had to leave and hadn’t made any progress that day. He came in almost every day that I was working, sometimes staying all day and sometimes only a few minutes. He didn’t always have time to play much, or get anywhere at least, on some days; sometimes he got a little too caught up, talking to me at the register when there weren’t any other customers needing service.

This week, I had the misfortune of working Friday night. It’s a horrible time of day to work, because of my want to relax and go out on these nights, along with various other reasons.

I hadn’t seen much of Garrett all week, so it was a little of a surprise when I noticed his car, bright yellow and having seen better days, pull into the lot. The passenger door opened and a tall and thin boy that I’d never seen before got out and pushed the seat forward. Then, like that, there were more boys climbing out of the car, one after another. One of them pushed the glass door open, sending the bell above ringing.

They all walked around, grabbing this and that, pulling this drink from the cooler and contemplating out loud over getting a bag of Skittles or M&Ms. I let my eyes roam among the four of them, smiling slightly. It was truly something to watch.

“Garrett says hey,” one of the boys, skinny with long brown hair, says. He piles his things on the counter (two Gatorades, a king size Snickers bar, and a bag of fruit snacks), then points a finger outside, towards the car. “You’re Devin, right?”

I nodded, beginning to scan his things.

“He won’t shut up about you, you know,” I looked up as another boy with a head full of blondish curls came up behind the other boy, holding his merchandise in his arms.

Slightly confused, I continued to do my job, not saying anything else. I gave the long-haired boy his change and his bag of snacks, just as the other boys piled in behind their friend.

“He really doesn’t shut about you, though? It gets a little annoying at times. Like, we’ll finally get him quiet enough to practice, but when we finish he’s off talking again! I mean, I understand; you are a pretty girl and you do seem nice enough, kinda quiet though…”

“Ryan,” the tall boy said from behind him. “Really? That is so not cool, man. Garrett only said to tell her hi, not spill everything.”

“If Garrett wants to tell me hi,” I started to say, continuing to scan things and toss them into plastic bags, “then he should come in and do it himself.”

A few of them laughed, smiling, but didn’t say much else as I finished ringing them up. They did, however, tell me bye as they left; each one of them.

I watched them leave, bags in hand. Two of them came up on the driver’s side, bending down to speak to him. The other two went around to the passengers’ side, opening the door. A second later one of them stuck their head out, smiling at the other, tossing something shiny toward them to catch. The others were opening Garrett’s door, grabbing him by the arm, pulling him out and pushing him toward the glass doors of our building.

He turned around, pushing through them and looking in the car. Oh well, I thought. I turned back to the register as a woman entered the store, heading in a beeline for me.

“Twenty dollars on pump seven,” she said. I nodded, pressing buttons on the register. She handed me a solid twenty, wished me a blessed day, and left to fill the tank of her car. A second after the bell rang, signifying her exit, it rang again. I looked up, not really at the bell as I welcomed the person, but as the person turned into many voices swearing and a thud as a body was dropped to the floor.

“Now quit being a douche and talk to the girl,” the boy with the big smile from earlier said.

Curls nodded, attempting to run a hand through his hair, “I mean, damn.”

The bell rang again as they left, leaving Garrett on the ground.

“Hey,” he said, raising a hand before hopping up off the ground.

“Hey,” I replied.

“They, uh, took my car keys.”

“Are they friends of yours? They were, uh, interesting. Really funny.”

Surprisingly, his cheeks turned slightly pink. “What, uh, what did they say?”

“Oh, I don’t know. None of it made much since, really. It was kind of jumbled. Something about practice, and playing, and songs-”

“I’m in a band.”

“Okay, well then I guess it wasn’t too odd of a conversation…”

“What else did they say?”

“Oh, you know, I’m sure I heard them wrong…” I looked up, outside. The boys were in a line, staring inside. I laughed, nodding toward them.

Garrett groaned, closing his eyes. “Are they staring at us?”

“Yes,” I said, laughing again, but now at his expression.

“Okay, so, I guess they aren’t going to let me not do this,” he mumbled, more to himself than me.

“What?” I asked.

“Did they say that I kept talking about you?” he asked, opening his eyes. “Because they’re right. I have been talking about you, in a good way. I, uh, what are you doing tomorrow night?”

I looked at him. I mean, really looked at him. He had closed his eyes again and he was biting his lip, just slightly. He looked… he looked so unlike the Garrett I was used to, the one who fought zombie during the day. “I guess whatever we’re doing,” I told him. Then, just like that, he breathed in and he was Garrett again.

I smiled at him, before looking back at the boys lined up at the window. I sent them a thumbs up and a wink, then watched them dance around as Garrett and I’s laughter played as background music.

-

It’s Monday morning, and I’m heading back to work. And the truth is, I wish I weren’t.

Garrett had told me, after we had stopped laughing and his friend dancing, that he would call me so we could make plans. So, then, he left with his friends, promising to call.

Only he didn’t call, not at all, all weekend.

So when I parked behind the store and went inside to start a day that I wasn’t looking forward to, I was surprised to see Garrett. I was surprised, not to mention not very happy, as I slipped my smock on and found him sitting on the ground, his back to the Zombie War machine.

He looked up at me, holding my gaze. He looked, again, like the Garrett I was not familiar with. He was uneasy, nervous. He started to stand up, still watching me, as I walked to the back office and poked my head inside.

“What’s up for today?” I asked Margaret, who was sitting behind her desk. Her feet were propped up on the corner, a novel perched in one hand as she nibbled on the nails on her other hand.

“Huh?” She said, not looking up for more than a second. “Bathrooms need to be mopped,” she mumbled, and that was it.

On any other day, I wouldn’t appreciate having to do this duty. But right now, it was nice to know that I could go somewhere where someone else couldn’t follow me.

I walked back toward the bathrooms, unlocking the supply closet door with the key hanging from the bracelet at my wrist. He was right behind me, suddenly, as I busied myself getting the mop and the “Caution: Wet Surface” signs.

“Devin,” he said, quietly. He cleared his throat, said my name once more, louder.

I ignored this, pushing open the door to the Ladies’ restroom and dragging the mop set in behind me.
I had just finished filling the bucket when the door was pushed open again. I looked down at the ground and recognized the old, beat-up vans.

“Did you look around before you came in here?”
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Just, you know, if my boss asks what happened in here. You’ll look kinda suspicious, if you catch my drift.”

“Okay, fine, enough, I get that you’re mad. I’m mad, too. I’m sorry I didn’t get to call you back. I mean, I wanted to call you back, but… Okay, so it was really late on Friday, probably Saturday by then, and Tim called and said that this band had dropped off and they needed an opener on Saturday night. We didn’t really no exactly where the venue was, but I thought that maybe we were going to be able to at least have lunch or something, but then I woke up around eleven and everybody was ready to go and we had to leave within the hour and I had to get ready and calling you slipped my mind for a little while.

“I thought I’d be able to maybe do something yesterday with you, right? Then, on our way back Saturday night, Pat got us lost in the dark, and then we pulled over at a rest stop for us all to sleep, and then the GPS messed up somehow and we had to have my dad come and get us and lead us back home, which we didn’t back to until after eight and we’re all practically dead so we all just crashed at my place.”

I just looked at him. “And everyone can back this up?”

“Yes,” he said, breathing in. “They can.”

“Okay,” I said, beginning to mop again. “Whatever.”

“A-Are we okay, then?”

“Just go play your game,” I mumbled, “We’re fine.”

“Really? ‘Cause it doesn’t sound like…”

“We’re fine, okay. You and me, we’re all good. Thanks for telling me the truth. Now, see right now, I just wish I didn’t have to mop the fucking bathrooms, so if you would please, go play your game.”

He laughed, a shaky, uneven laugh, before finally leaving me to my job.

-

“Devin!”

“Yeah?” I called.

“I did it! Come here! Can you believe it? I did it!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, “Did you beat the game?”

“Yes! Okay, well, you know how Jake Marvel was fighting against the Zombie Army to stay safe? And then he met Zoe Bates and the couple Lindsey and Josh Hodges and their son Rob they were all traveling and fighting together? Well, I beat the last stage! I beat the game! Isn’t that great?”

“It’s fantastic,” I agree.

“Okay, well, I want you to see the end sequence,” he smiled. I nodded, watching as he typed in a cheat code. Then, the sequence was starting. Garrett smiled bigger, looking at me, before focusing on the screen. He placed a hand on my lower back, pulling me closer to the screen and him.

A dark haired man, probably somewhere in his late twenties, was standing on camera. He had a machine gun slung over his back, a machete in hand. The small room, which appeared to be bouncing up and down, was splattered with blood.

“Where are we going again?” a woman’s voice said. Jake turned, and so did the camera; the speaker was an older woman, sitting above the axel of a wheel. The room they were sitting in was actually a compartment; the back of a moving van or something.

“We’re going somewhere safer,” Jake said. The woman nodded, then rested her head on her husband’s, a broad shouldered man’s, shoulder and smoothed her hand over her son’s hair.

“Do you mean it, Jake? Is it for real this time?”

Jake turned again, facing the small redhead woman. This was Zoe. She had a small voice, an even smaller body, and a heart shaped face. She stood from her spot facing the closed back of the vehicle, stumbling toward him. Now you could see the handguns near her hips, the long knife tucked into the waistband in the back of her tattered jeans. “Is it?” she said, her voice quieter than ever before. She reached out, grabbing his arm and holding onto it.

“This war will never end, not really. We’ll never be completely safe,” he said, his voice quiet and sad. “Not completely, but I swear that I will always do my damned best to keep you safe, Zoe. I swear I will.”

Again, we could see what Jake was seeing: Zoe, doe-eyed and pale, staring up at him. His breath was shaking his body, and in turn, the camera. The view changed again, and we saw Zoe and Jake, staring at one another.

“That’s good enough for me,” Zoe muttered, holding him to her.

“Not for me,” Jake whispered back, “Never for me.” Then, he bent down, kissing her forehead. The screen went dark, and then the words The War Isn’t Over popped up on screen. Underneath it, in tinier letters, it said but this game is.

“Like I said,” I said, turning to Garrett, now, “Congratulations. I knew you’d finish it one day.”

“Hey,” Garrett said, grinning. He reached for my face, holding it in his palm. His other hand rested on my neck. “I’m gonna take you out on that date, okay? Soon, I promise; really, really soon, hopefully. Don’t worry, Devin.”

Then, just like in Zombie War, just like Jake did to Zoe, Garrett placed a kiss to my forehead. My eyes closed as he did so and all I could do was breathe. This was enough for me.