89.4 Zombie Radio

"What!? What could you possibly want Nimel!?" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs. Nimel just barked louder and more erratically. I only had one dog in my life, her name was Blackberry, and she was a black lab. She only barked when she was scared. I knew Nimel wasn't scared, and he admittedly was much smarter than Blackberry ever was. I think he was just barking to mess with Dean. Nimel and Jessie certainly were two of a kind.

"I think he just wants some attention, don't ya buddy?" Roxy asked in her dog voice. Nimel stopped barking for just a moment and hid behind Dean.

"Will somebody tell me what the fuck it is that makes animals hate me!?" Roxy yelled. Not soon after, Nimel started to bark again. Dean was walking with his hands over his ears, but after another mile or so, he finally gave in.

"Are you hungry or something?" Dean asked. Nimel hopped and barked approvingly at what Dean had said.

"Damn it, you are just like her. Neither of you can wait for anything," Dean said. "When are we going to stop for the night? Its starting to get dark, and if this dog keeps barking at me, I swear I don't know what I'll do."

"We'll stop at the next house," Jack replied. "I see one up ahead."

We walked a little further, until we reached the house Jack spoke of. It was a little blue house, with dark red shutters, and a porch that wrapped around the front. Jack rang the doorbell, it was his way of luring any zombies to the front door. A nifty trick to say the least. Nothing approached however, and we let ourselves in, as the door was surprisingly unlocked. We started to search the house, looking for any supplies we could use. It was basically standard procedure at this point. It didn't take long before Celeste and I found a locked room, which appeared to be a child's room judging from the decorations on the door. I jiggled the handle and immediately heard the screams of multiple zombies on the other side of the door. They weren't the normal screams I was used to however, they were more like the screams of children, probably no older than toddlers. Celeste and I walked away from the door and gathered up the rest of the group, to show them our discovery.

"Baby zombies? Are you fucking kidding me!?" Roxy shouted.

"What do we do about them?" Lucas asked. "Should we just leave them alone? I mean... Is it right to kill them? Its against my moral fiber to harm a child, but a zombie child... Shit, I have no idea."

"Well, if we're staying here, they have to go," Trevor said.

"Here ya go quick draw," Jack said as he handed Trevor his gun. "You take care of them."

"Wait, why me!?" Trevor asked.

"You were pretty fucking sure of what needed to be done just a second ago!" Roxy shouted. "Now the gun is in your hands and all of the sudden, you're second guessing yourself. What the fuck kind of person are you anyways?"

"Hey fu..." Jack interrupted Trevor, he could tell this was devolving into an argument.

"That will be enough, thank you both," he said.

"My question is, where da fuck are the mothahfuckin' parents in this shit? How they just gonna up and leave they babies all up in this crazy ass house by they damn selves?" Kwame asked.

"Um, Kwame, I sort of doubt zombies make the greatest parents," Brock said.

"Well, I think this is more or less a morale question then," Dr.Grant said. "I feel it comes down to this, when you kill a zombie, do you kill the person? The same person who laughed and loved and lived all those years? So far, none of us have had a problem killing them. Although, in most cases, it has been self defense on our part. Now, we come here, and we're faced with a new question. These children are much too young to properly defend themselves from us. However, they are infected, and could still pose a threat. It may be a minor threat, but it is a threat none the less, and in our situation, we cannot afford risks. So, should we move to the next house? Or should we just release them from their zombie prison?"

"So, basically what you're asking is, are we killing a person? Or are we killing a zombie?" Jack asked. "My personal opinion is this. If I were a zombie, shoot me. This is like the age old question, if you were on life support and were going to be a vegetable, should you pull the plug? We're all going to have a different opinion on it."

"Well then, let's take a vote," Dr.Grant suggested. "All those opposed to killing the child zombies on the other side of this door and staying the night here, raise your hand now."

A few hands went up, mine was not one of them. It was basically Kwame, and Riley who had their hands raised. It struck me as odd that they felt that way. Neither of them really struck me as the, "Let God sort them out," types, but maybe it was just their naivety that made them feel like they felt. Then again, I didn't want to see this happen to children either. I truthfully didn't even want to look on the other side of that door. I guess I could understand their reasoning. It didn't matter, it was more or less, a matter of opinion, and the decision was made, now it was up to the rest of the group to decide who it was that would carry out this task.

"Well, who's going to take care of this then?" Jack asked.

"Hey mothahfuckah! You supposed to be the leader and shit! I say you and the crazy white girl do that shit!" Kwame exclaimed.

"I hate to say he has a point, but he has a point," Brock said.

"Brock, fuck you," Roxy replied. "And as one of the leaders, I say we get to nominate someone else."

"We're never going to get anything done this way," Dr. Grant said. "How about we all draw straws or something?"

"As crazy as that is, it does seem fair," Lucas answered. "Somebody find some straws."

We searched the kitchen for straws, and luckily found some in one of the cupboards. Dr.Grant cut one of them short, and we each drew one out of his hand. It was just my luck, I drew the short straw. Jack handed me his gun and we all headed back upstairs. I couldn't help but wonder why everyone wanted to watch. In my mind, I kept comparing it to a car crash. The scene of a car accident is absolutely appalling, and yet, you can't turn away. I counted to ten and Jack kicked the door down. The first little one came running at me, and tripped over his own clumsy feet. Before he could stand back up and look me in the eyes, I took the shot. He stopped moving. The second was making its way towards me, it was a girl of roughly the same age. If I had to guess, they were twins. I couldn't help but look her in the eyes as I shot her directly in the head. Then I heard some more distorted crying coming from the crib in the corner of the room. It was another zombie, this one wasn't even old enough to walk. I closed my eyes and looked at the heavens as I pulled the trigger. Everyone was dead silent after I had cleared out the room. I handed the gun back to Jack and made my way back downstairs alone.

This was God's plan for me. This is how I had to atone for what I did. I spent the next hour in my own personal hell, just trying to think of what I would have been doing if I never would have made that stupid group. I changed the world alright, and it definitely wasn't for the better. I knew I did what nobody wanted to do. I killed three zombies that were locked in a room. Why didn't it feel that way though? I seen out of the corner of my eye Trevor itching at something on his neck. Things like that always bothered me. Whenever I seen someone scratching or fidgeting, I had a hard time hiding my annoyance. Celeste came and layed her head on my shoulder. It helped ease the pain a little, and not too long after that, Dr.Grant came and sat down next to me.

"That was a brave thing you did Aiden," he said.

"Depends on how you look at it," I replied. "I think this is how God is punishing me."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. It could have been any of us," Dr.Grant explained. "You look annoyed, is everything okay?"

"I keep looking at Trevor, and he's itching his neck like crazy... Things like that just bug me for some reason. Its a pet peeve," I told him. Dr.Grant put his hand over his chin. He always did that when he was deep in thought about something.

"It appears to be a mosquito bite," Dr.Grant said. "This is... Never mind, don't worry about it. Try to ignore him and get some rest, we have a big day tomorrow."

The doctor then walked away, and started to talk to Jack about something. Celeste and I both found an open room, and made it our own for the night. It didn't take long before she was asleep. Myself on the other hand, stayed up a few extra hours, staring in the mirror, and trying to come to terms with what I had done. Eventually, I convinced myself that what Dr.Grant had said was right. It could have been any of us. In a way, we all killed them. It was that thought alone that finally compelled me to sleep. The next morning, I woke up and everyone was already downstairs, ready to go. Roxy and Jack stood by the door, and it seemed as though I was the person they were waiting on to leave.

"Well, now that we're all here, I have a plan," Roxy stated.

"Well lay it on me sister!" Brock exclaimed.

"Well, we're gonna test Jack's little gas theory," Roxy explained. "Brock, get that car running in the garage for me."

"I'm on it," Brock said, as he headed to the garage.

"Okay, now I need three people to come with me. We're going to head up the road, and see if we can't find the fucking bus," Roxy explained. "If that bus isn't there, then we'll come up with a new plan, but I'm not getting bitched at by Jessie if she comes back and the bus is gone."

"So what do the rest of us do in the meantime Roxy?" Lucas asked.

"Well, you sit your asses at this house until we come back," Roxy replied. I'm taking Riley's phone with me, and I've already got the number to this house on it. If shit goes down, I'll give you guys a call."

"How the fuck you get the number to this house if you ain't never been here?" Kwame asked.

"I called Riley's phone from the house dip shit! It's not exactly rocket science," Roxy answered. Kwame mumbled his response under his breath. It was clear Roxy had embarrassed him. "Now the question is, who's comin' with me?"

"I'm goin'! I don't give a fuck what you say!" Kwame exclaimed. "I ain't sittin' up in this bitch, with those creepy ass dead zombie kids upstairs and shit. Fuck that! You got me fucked up! Naw, I'm rollin' up out this mothahfuckah!"

"Okay, Kwame's in, who else?" Jack asked. "I'm going to stay here, just in case something happens while they're out."

"That's a good idea Jack," Dr.Grant replied. "We can't risk losing both of you."

"Well, I want that morning star back, since I left it on the bus. So I think I'm going to go help you guys too," Lucas said.

"Aw hell yea Luke!" Kwame exclaimed. "Big Luke up in this mothahfuckah, shit, we bout to fuck shit up now!"

"Okay, sounds good," Lucas replied.

"One more, who's coming and quick, because I hear the engine starting outside," Roxy said. "By the way, Lucas, you're going to fucking kill yourself with that thing."

"Why does everyone think I'm going to get hurt with that thing!?" Lucas asked.

Nobody was raising their hand to volunteer for the trip, and I could tell it was probably going to be me, or nobody else. I didn't want to leave Celeste behind, but when I looked at her, she nodded to me, and I knew what I had to do.

"I'll go," I said.

"Alright, that's three. Its settled. Let's go find this fucking bus. Jack, how much gas did it have left before you stopped?" Roxy asked.

"It had about an eighth of a tank, which on a bus like that, probably only took it maybe a hundred miles or so," Jack answered. "Walking there would take us days, but if you drive, it should only take maybe an hour or two."

"Exactly why I'm doing this shit," Roxy said. "I want my fucking shit back! And I want to fuck whoever did it up! Now let's go before I fucking break something!"

"You should just break something anyways, because it would be cool," Lucas replied. Roxy smiled and grabbed a little nick-knack glass angel from one of the shelves by the door. She threw it up against the wall, and it shattered into pieces.

"Woo! That felt fucking great!" Roxy exclaimed. We followed her outside and into the garage, where Brock had been waiting for us.

"How'd you get it running, and what do I have to do to make it start if it goes out on me?" Roxy asked.

"Uh, I found the keys in a little bowl by the garage door, you just have to use them," Brock replied, as he handed her the keys.

"You dick!" Roxy shouted, punching Brock in his arm.

"Hey, you're the one who asked, I just answered the question," Brock said. "Are you going to be okay? I think you're dad would kill me if he knew I was letting you go without being there."

"Oh shut the fuck up, I have help, I'm bringing these three with me," Roxy explained.

"Why didn't I get invited to the search party?" Brock asked.

"Because you were getting the car started, and you worry too fucking much," Roxy answered.

"Ah, I guess you're right, you're as stubborn as your old man, you know that?" Brock asked.

"Fuck yea I do," Roxy replied. "I think he'd be pretty proud don't you?"

"No doubt about it," Brock said through his laughter. "You're definitely a chip off the old block as they would say. Just.. Be careful alright?"

"God, its just like when I first got the bike isn't it?" Roxy asked.

"Yes, it is. You're practically my sister Roxy, and I'd hate to see anything happen to you," Brock explained. "By the way, what happened to that bike? I didn't think I'd ever see you part with that thing, given it was your dad's and all."

"Bob talked me out of riding it when I met him. He was right, I probably would have never made it this far on that damn thing," Roxy answered. "Doesn't mean I don't miss it..." Roxy put her hand over her eyes and for a second, I thought she was going to cry. "Fuck you for making me think about that Brock! Damn it! Now I'm going to get this fucking bus back! I may not have that bike, but I have a new family vehicle, and I'll be damned if I don't get it back, one way or another!"

"Give 'em hell kid," Brock said.

"When have I ever given anything different?" Roxy asked. We all piled into the car and left the house behind. We weren't sure if we were going to find the bus, but Roxy was right, we had to try. This was sort of a family now. It was the closest thing to a family we were ever going to see anyways. I sat in the passenger seat and watched as the speedometer reached seventy. I strapped my seat belt on and clutched whatever I could. I had imagined Roxy was somewhat of a sketchy driver, but a pissed off, determined Roxy? Needless to say I was nervous. Jack had guessed it was going to be about an hour or two before we found it. I hoped he was wrong, because if he was right, Roxy may kill all of us before we even get there.