The Aftermath

We all stood in the kitchen. My father and uncle were slick and covered in sweat, even some dirt.

“So, what’s the news?” I asked first.

My father reached into the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder, pulling out a pager. I felt myself almost throw up, weren’t those things used before Christ?

“Your little friend, Rodney, was smart. He must have had a feeling something strange would be coming in a few days because last week he gave this to me.” My father placed his down on the kitchen island. “That’s what he used to reach us.”

Kyle smiled, eyes turning to devious slits. “What were you guys doing anyway?”

“We were at a bar.” Uncle Trevor threw back easily. “But, that doesn’t matter. He paged us a message saying that he’s with your friend, Cece.”

“Yes!” Kyle pumped a fist into the air.

“How the heck did he find her?” Ryant asked suspiciously, turning to Kyle. “I thought you said she was at a weapons expo.”

Kyle smirked. “My lady knows how to plan her days. She’s protected with all those weapons and stuff.”

Ashley shoved him in the shoulder. “Oh shut up!”

“So, what does this mean for us?” Lion rose.

“He said that we can meet him in 24 hours at the Colonial West Bridge.” My father answered.

My jaw dropped. “You mean the one with the structural problems that closed down a few days ago?”

“If you think about it, that’s a good plan.” Ashley stated. “It’s closed down. No one will be there and it’ll be just us since that side of town is usually abandoned. All they said was that the bridge had a few cracks in it.”

Just a few cracks? Oh, that doesn’t sound dangerous at all.

“So, when should we plan to leave out? It takes an hour or two to get there.”

Uncle Trevor cleared his throat and answered Ryant. “That’s the magic question. Leave too soon and we expose ourselves too much. Leave too late and we don’t make it in time.”

“What exactly are we trying to make though? Are we going to be airlifted to the Caribbean or something?”

Lion laughed and my father answered Kyle.

“Well, we already know it’s too dangerous to airlift. The military’s shooting down anyone who’s not authorized. When we were leaving the bar after some stuff broke out, there was a news helicopter out, just filming and everything.”

My head was starting to hurt, a small migraine creeping it’s way in.

“And they shot it down?” Horror was in Ashley’s voice.

“Yup and that got people even more panicked.”

Ryant’s face turned bleak and he pulled his little brother closer to him. I wasn’t sure if his desolate reaction was due to the fact he’d been kidnapped by Lexicon just after plane had crashed mere yards away from him or the last time we’d been in one, we’d seen that everyone in Southwestern Airport had been massacred.

The talking went on and on, about plans of when we should leave, what weapons to bring, how much food, how we’d use Uncle Trevor’s van, and more. I slipped away as Ashley went into animated detail about the exact route we should take to the bridge.

I ended up just walking to the top of the stairwell leading to the second floor and sitting on the top step. Their ramblings went on and I just sat. Sometimes it was good to be alone.

“Jasmine?” My dad’s voice came around the hallway’s corner. “Are you okay?”

I almost laughed. “I’m fine. Just tired of hearing everyone talking.”

He smiled at me from the bottom of the stairs and began his way up. It was amazing to think how interactions between us had changed since we’d lived in Washington. It was a complete 180 in terms of how we used to be. Now we were just two people.

“Well, sometimes I feel that way too, so I guess we can both not talk together.”

That got another small laugh out of me and I think he liked to hear the sound of my laugh. He was always saying how proud it made him to know that I was rebuilding my life.

I’d hate to disappoint him, but everything I’d ever known was being smashed to bits.

“Are you okay though? Didn’t get scratched up or anything? You and Ryant were safe when things happened?”

I nodded, suddenly feeling tired. “Yeah. We were okay. We were at the store when this man came in and bit the guy at the register. Then, Alex crashed his car into the store.”

“That boy is something else.” His tone held an underlying bitterness to it. I barely detected it when he was speaking about Alex, but it was there now. I guess he felt like he couldn’t overstep his boundaries and tell me who to be with because he was correct.

I’d never listen if he did.

“He’s nice and we’ve been through a lot. He protects me.”

I looked down, noticing the laces of my high top Converses were untied. The white laces were sort of old, but these shoes had been there for me through it all.

“He’s 18 though. That’s…”

He stopped speaking when I rested my weary head on his shoulder, eyes drooping shut.

“I’m glad you’re not dead.” I could almost sense the smile on his face from my words. Daughter and father rebuilding the bridge once torn down. It was a shit load of irony in the world we lived in now.

But, somehow I managed to doze off to sleep right there with my head on his strong shoulder.

* * * * *

“But, what do we do when we get there? We can just fight them straight out the gate?”

Someone laughed, a light little chuckle from across the room. My body felt like a slug along the floorboards trying to morph itself upwards.

“It’s not something we can handle gently. It’s a different game this time.”

The person sighed. “Well, I really wish we could all get our blood to somewhere and know right away. It’s dangerous to go out without knowing.”

“Knowing or not knowing, we’re going to get to our destination.”

“But, did you hear here on the Larry King interview. How that girl was raped and killed? We can’t take any chances, especially now that we got her back.”

A door opened and closed their conversation stopped.

“Hey guys. Why you up so late?”

“No reason. Just talking some final plans over.”

“Oh… alright.”

Then, the world went quiet again.

* * * * *

I yawned. My head felt as heavy as lead and I was sure I’d slept for more than my fair share of hours. We all still camped out in the same room, blankets covering the floor and the room so dark you couldn’t see your own ten fingers.

I eased myself up on my forearms, trying to squint my eyes through the darkness. A sigh left my lips. That hollow feeling was back in my stomach. I’d woken up a few times from that sensation, but tried to ignore it. Sometimes my metabolism was too fast for its own good.

I scotched the blankets from my legs and lifted myself off the floor. I remember vaguely changing into some sleeping clothes. I wore a black night dress, wasn’t really my thing, but for some unfathomable reason I’d left it at Ryant’s house as well.

Once outside the room’s door I tiptoed my way down the stairs and smiled as I opened the fridge. Most of the food was good and I was happy to drain one carton of it’s orange juice. Then, I ate some bread and whatever else I could manage to eat to feed my hunger.

After that, I just stood in the kitchen, thinking and thinking about the world, life, and all the other odd ends.

Scrrrch…

Scrrrch…

My eyebrows pressed together a bit. Could that be the electricity in the house?

I set the bag of bread down on the counter and moved away from the kitchen area a bit.

Scrrch…

Scrrch…

Scrrch…

It sounded like some gritting against wood or something. I kept my gaze to the floor and ears open, following the sound with my subtle footsteps.

The sound came again and again.

I stopped when the sound seemed closer than ever and looked up. A solid door lay before me, a door to one of the bathrooms on the first floor. My hand pressed against the cold surface and pushed. It came open with an eerie creek and stopped in its path on the doorstop.

Past the blue curtains of the shower tub was small window. It was rectangular and held a little window seal for shampoos and such. The shampoos were turned over and had clattered into the tub below.

A body poked through the wooden floorboards, only from the shoulder and one arm up. The fingers scraped and grinded against the linoleum, fingernails bleeding away as it dug deeper into the wall.

It was man with tattered hair with some patches ripped from the scalp. The skin all the body was shriveled and the ugliest shade of green. It was wrinkled and putrid and held warts all over. Black ooze pestered from some of the warts.

Then, the man’s eyes saw me and the most horrifying screech erupted from his twisted mouth.

His body tore through the floorboards and slammed into the tub. His hand took the entire force of the fall and did a magnificent crack.

Holy shit.

Time moved in dead slow motion. I reeled the door shut with a slam, turning on my heels and screaming bloody murder at the top of my lungs.

The house was dark and any items I scrambled into, I threw behind me. The sound of shattering wood erupted behind me and tears leaked down my face.

I screamed and screamed again. The body was behind me, scrambling over things.

I jumped the first three steps of the stairwell and tripped. The soft spot of my knee hit a stair’s edge. I let out a piercing cry.

All of the weapons were at the top of the stairs.

My limp increased as the blood trickled down my leg from the gaping wound, arms carrying the load up.

Scream. Scream. Scream.

But, every echoed beg was just answered with silence.

I reached the top, a wild hand clamped down on my ankle. My jaw slammed against wood. Blood sloshed into my mouth.

“GET A GUN!”

My arm slammed against the wall. Head against the floor. Legs fumbling over legs.

I hit the bottom of the stairwell and bolted. The putrid piece of shit came fumbling after me.

I reached into a drawer and grabbed hold of a wide kitchen knife. I swung around and crammed the thing into its brain. Blood and black ooze erupted over my hands. It went dead with the knife in its head and finally footsteps came clattering down the stairs.

More inhuman cries were coming down the hall.

It was Alex and my father.

“We need to get out of here.” I gasped. “Now.”

Everything from then went into overdrive. People gathering people. Bags being lurched into arms and foots colliding up steps.

I tossed a heavy bag to Ryant. “We can’t get out from downstairs! We’ve gotta go through the attic!”

Max was up and crying. Kyle yanked open the attic door and we all went running upwards. Once inside, Ashley shoved as many heavy things down the stairs to block the door and I was glad. We didn’t need to deal with anymore of those freaks.

Uncle Trevor used a dusted lamp to slam through the ceiling’s boards and stale light caved in.

“All the girls first!”

He grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up. I cursed, wishing I had time to put on jeans instead of having my ass hang out from a dress.

I grappled onto the rough texture of the roof and felt the night air like a sickness. The scent was no longer peaceful and nice. It reeked of death and blood. Cars were overturned in the roads. Houses had smashed in windows and walls, some were even burning. And surrounding the front side of the house was a pack of zombies.

Everyone else in the neighborhood must be dead or on the other end of hell. Ashley climbed out next.

“Come on. He gave me the keys. Their van is out back. We’ve gotta hurry.”

Feeling our way down, we jumped to the lively grass of the backyard and ran to the charcoal colored van back there as well.

We climbed in and Ashley handed me an Uzi gun. I took it readily in my hands. Gunshots fired off the roof as Alex and my father were the last ones to climb out. Kyle and Ryant were sending off steady shots while Uncle Trevor took hold of Max’s hand and hauled him into the car next to me.

The zombies were trying to breach the left side of the house. My father jumped the largest gap and landed with a roll.

I half climbed out the car and screamed. “Alex! You’ve gotta jump before they reach where you can land!”

But, he seemed frozen, as solid as ice. I was running, screaming at him to jump.

“Now’s not the time to be afraid of heights! Get your ass down here!”

That got him to do the job, but he landed messily. With me helping him, we were the last ones into the second row of the van. Uncle Trevor gunned then engine and were off, the tires kicking against the grass and dirt.

“We’re never coming back, are we?” Ryant sat behind his father whom was in the front seat. The car was otherwise dead silent with the mob of those freaks barreling us down from the road behind.

Lion chose to answer his son honestly.

“I’m not sure if any of us are.”