Summerland

ONE

The food that adorned the table was so flawless and free of imperfection that a small part of me expected it to disappear at any moment; like the magic found only in fairytales. I smiled as I took in the sight before me. Every available surface space was covered with a dish or platter of some kind. Bright, vivid bowls of salad; strawberry flavor cupcakes decorated with swirls of thick pink frosting and sprinkled with tiny stars; peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with just the right ratio between the two fillings, and a whole host of other birthday party delights. In the very center of the table sat a huge three-tier cake. It was draped in yellow marzipan and studded with candles –eighteen to be exact; one for each year of my life so far.

“Feather?”

I glanced up to see my mom staring at me intently; an anxious smile playing across her face.
“Are you okay? I noticed you haven’t touched your food yet. Is it too hot in here? I could always go turn on the air-con…”

Before I could say anything, she leapt from her seat and rushed over to the small silver box attached to wall over on the other side of the room. I sighed and picked up a piece of pizza. Why couldn’t she just relax? I didn’t care if the room was too hot, or if the chocolate mousse didn’t have sparklers in it, or that the butter-cream in the middle of the cake wasn’t quite the right consistency – and it was my party.

“But you only turn eighteen once!” she’d cried as she straightened an invisible crease out of the table cloth. “I just want everything to be perfect for you, honey. You could try being a little more appreciative - my mother never let me have an eighteenth birthday party.”

I didn’t have the heart to explain to her that rabbit shaped jell-o and pinwheel sandwiches weren’t really the kind of thing teenage girls wanted at their birthday parties. She’d been so excited that I’d finally let her throw me one after nearly a decade of protestations, she didn’t seem to remember that the last time I’d liked paper chains and colored streamers had been when I was five years old.

“It sure is hot tonight,” she sighed, breezing back to her seat. I watched as the small glass pitcher of iced tea glittered coldly under the glare that crept through the curtains. The jug shuddered slightly as she pulled her chair up to the table, and for a moment I was sure it was going to spill. My mom noticed at the last second and threw out a hand to steady it.

“It must be at least ninety degrees out there! And the weather channel says it’s not going to let up at least until tomorrow. We’re going to have to sleep with the windows open.”

“You know who I blame?” asked my grandma to nobody in particular. She waved a forkful of birthday cake around animatedly as she spoke. “Global warming. Apparently, the whole thing is some big government conspiracy dating back hundreds of years to the Illuminati – nothing to do with the darn penguins. I watched a show about it on NatGeo.”

My dad stifled a laugh.

“Really mother,” he smiled wryly as he picked up a second slice of pizza. I guessed he hadn’t noticed it was Hawaiian flavor. My dad was famous in our house for his hatred of pineapple. “You know the Illuminati aren’t actually real, right ma? They’re just an urban legend - like the bogeyman or Jack Frost.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Robert,” grandma sniffed dismissively. “Of course they exist. Why, even that nice Sean Carter boy is a member.”

It was my turn to laugh.

“Wait…you mean Jay-Z? Grandma, Jay-Z is not a member of the Illuminati. Trust me.”

“I think you’ll find he is,” she said, picking a slab of marzipan from between her false teeth. I looked away disgustedly, trying not to shudder. “And that wife of his, too – the trampy looking one with the big thighs. You know, I just heard they had a child together. Gave it one of those ridiculous celebrity baby names – Blue Ivy - I ask you! Sounds like a brand of toilet detergent.”

“Okay!” my mom smiled brightly, trying hard to change the subject before grandma went off on one of her infamous rants. “I’m sure everyone’s getting a little bored just sitting here eating, so how about we bring dinner to a close and go watch Feather open her presents instead?”

Moments later, everybody had gathered around the small circular coffee table in the living room, watching excitedly as I began to disappear under a pile of pastel colored wrapping paper.

“Does she really need so many gifts?” grandma frowned, eyeing the remaining stack of parcels with disdain. “She’s going to end up spoiled, Toni – and that sister of hers too if you don’t stop letting them have whatever they want, and even more when they ask for it. I’m surprised you didn’t put Feather forward for one of those Super Sweet Eighteenth shows they have on the MTV channel. She’d fit right in with all the other brats from what I’ve seen of her behavior so far.
”
“And I’m surprised we didn’t put you in a retirement home, Gloria,” my mom muttered under her breath as she handed me a heap of pink and gold envelopes. “You’re certainly demented enough.”
Grandma looked up sharply.

“What was that, Toni? Do speak up; I didn’t quite hear you properly.”

My dad sighed and rolled his eyes. I noticed the other guests exchanging glances, clearly excited to be witnessing the start of a juicy family squabble.

“Ladies, please,” he said wearily, taking a sip from the glass of iced tea he’d salvaged from the kitchen. “Can we try to be civil at least just for tonight? I’m sure Feather doesn’t want to spend her birthday party listening to you two argue.” He turned to me and smiled. “Go ahead and open the rest of your gifts, honey.”

After a while, I’d acquired – among other things - a pair of Skullcandy earphones; a three piece set of shimmery Mac lip-glosses (too dark and vampiric looking, according to my grandma); the purple lacy shirt I’d seen in Hot Topic the weekend before; and a new memory stick for my camera.

“Why don’t you go outside and take a picture of the sunset?” my mom smiled as I slotted the tiny black card into place. “It looks beautiful tonight; like someone set the sky on fire!”

Taking my camera, I walked outside onto the lawn; glad to finally be away from all the tension. It was a typical July evening in Arizona; hot and humid, and utterly still, making it feel like you were slowly drowning in a warm vat of soup. In the distance I could hear kids screaming and yelling as they played soccer in the park. They usually stayed there until late during the summer, since despite the sunset it never actually grew dark outside. The smell of smouldering charcoal drifted over from across the street, turning the air thick and smoky. I guessed the neighbors were having a barbecue; something I knew would cause my grandmother to freak out about when she realized. She liked to sit by the window and watch as the partygoers stumbled home drunkenly in the early hours of the morning, arguing with each other as they struggled to find their car keys in the dark. She’d even taken to keeping a pair of binoculars in the guest bedroom to capture such events. Last time, she’d started hollering insults at them from her rocking chair – well, until my dad came and told her if she didn’t shut up, she’d never be staying over at our house ever again. The hollering had stopped pretty fast after that.

“Is she gone yet?”

I turned to see my sister standing behind me clutching a small red box. It was covered in tiny, heart shaped silver stickers and topped with a lopsided bow. She stared up at me wide-eyed from beneath her fluffy blonde bangs; reading my face for signs of a lie. I rolled my eyes and smiled.
“You mean grandma? No, Luna, she isn’t gone. She’s staying the night; she won’t be gone until tomorrow morning. You already know that.”

Luna frowned and stamped her foot in outrage. It was no secret that she and our grandmother didn’t get along. It had all started when the old woman had decided to inform Luna of where her pet rabbit had really gone after it left the vet; lacking a heartbeat under its stiff gold fur.

“’Bunny Heaven’ - I never heard anything so stupid in all my life! Is that what your father really told you? I suppose he always did enjoy reading those silly fairytales…”

Luna looked up at her with huge, watery blue eyes. She reminded me of the cat from Shrek 2.
“What do you mean? Daddy told me Ginger went to play with all the other animals up in heaven,” she whispered, lower lip starting to quiver.

“Dead animals don’t go to heaven, child,” she said, shaking her head dismissively. Her pale grey curls bounced against her shoulders as she did so. “They’re buried deep in the cold, damp earth and turned into maggot food just like the rest of us. By now Ginger is probably nothing more than a pile of bones. He was rather a plump creature, if I remember rightly…I bet the worms had a feast!”
Luna stared at the old woman for a moment; a look of horror etched across her features as she thought about what she’d just been told. And then, without any kind of warning, she turned and ran out of the room; a high pitched wail following behind her.

I glared at grandma.

“I hope you realize she’s probably traumatized for life now.”

Grandma rolled her eyes and reached down into the bag of pear flavor candy perched on her lap. There was a horrible, gummy sound as she reached up and into her mouth to slide her false teeth out. She set them on the table next to her before pushing one of the sweets between her lips.
That night dad had to sit down and explain that Grandma hadn’t really meant what she’d said about Ginger, and that while it was true his body was buried out in the back yard, his soul was somewhere else enjoying warm sunshine and all the carrots he could eat. I don’t think Luna believed him

“I’m sorry I missed your party,” she whined, twirling one of her braids around her finger. “But I made you this in class! Miss McKinney helped me with the glue.” She thrust the sparkly red parcel into my hand and smiled up at me excitedly.

“Hmm,” I teased, deciding to play a game with her. “What can this be? Is it a lion?”

Luna let out a giggle and shook her head.

“Nope!”

I pulled on one of the ribbons hanging down from the top of the wrapping paper and pulled it until it came loose.

“Okay then…how about a tiger? I always wanted a tiger.”

Luna shook her head again and pulled on the other end of ribbon.

“Hey, isn’t this supposed to be my gift?!” I laughed, reaching out to take away her hand. “I already know you’re planning on blowing out all the candles on my birthday cake, just like you do every year. At least give me the chance to unwrap my own present.”

“Well hurry up and open it, then!” she whined impatiently, jumping up and down on the driveway. “And quit making stupid guesses about what it is! The pet store doesn’t even sell tigers.”

“Girls?”

I glanced up to see mom standing in the doorway; a huge glass cake-stand balanced between her hands. She smiled and gestured toward us with her head.

“Do you want to cut the cake now?” she asked. “Your grandmother is arguing with Dr. Delaney from next door and it’s getting a little…heated. I was hoping you could come help me distract her.”
She sighed and turned to go back indoors. I could hear grandma’s voice echoing from the house even standing out on the driveway.

“C’mon,” I smiled, reaching out to ruffle Luna’s hair. “She doesn’t bite.”

“Yes she does,” she spat as her features twisted into a scowl. “Even daddy said she does.”

“She’ll be gone by tomorrow morning. Look…” I bent down until we were eye-level and held my wrist out in front of Luna, pointing to the transparent blue watch wrapped around it. “See the big hand? In twelve more hours it’ll be on eight, and then you can wave goodbye to grandma for another three months. She doesn’t come back from her stupid French cruise until the end of summer.”

“And then,” I said, standing up. “It’ll be your birthday. A little birdie told me you might even be getting a new bunny…”

Luna looked up at me sceptically.

“You promise?

“I don’t just promise; I pinky promise.”

I grabbed her hand and linked our little fingers together, causing Luna to let out a laugh. She suddenly noticed the present still sitting unopened in my other hand.

“You’re never going to open it!” she cried exasperatedly. “I worked really hard on it!”

“Okay,” I said, stopping just before we got to the doorway. “I’ll do it right now.”

I pulled off the ribbon and passed it to Luna; draping it over her head. The thin strip of pink mixed with her curls, making it look like she had colored streak. She sighed and stroked the fabric wistfully.
“You think mommy will let me have my hair this color someday?”

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” I laughed, edging my finger under the glittery paper covering the gift. “Luna, did you wrap this thing with superglue or something? I can’t even ope-“

It was then that we heard it.

The sound of footsteps tore through the silence of the quiet, deserted street. It was hard to see where they were coming from at first because the stillness made everything sound distorted. But then we saw the man. He came from nowhere, running – no, sprinting – faster than I’d ever seen anyone run before. Despite his sneakers and board shorts, it was obvious he wasn’t just a fitness freak trying to fit some extra exercise in after dinner. Nor was he running to catch a bus, or to stop someone stealing his car, or to make sure he made it home in time to watch Supernatural.

No.
He was running for his life.

We watched soundlessly as whatever he was running from surged forward into view. The tall, hissing figure chased the man with a hunger; sneakered feet pounding the sidewalk so hard I thought the ground would crack. Crying out, the man gave a whimper and stumbled. His legs seemed to give out from beneath him and he collapsed across the white-hot gravel. A groan pierced the air as his pursuer pounced on top of him and began ripping through the back of his shirt with its sharp, discolored nails.

“Feather?”

I turned to see Luna staring up at me; eyes wide with a mix of confusion and fear. She wrapped her fingers around the sleeve of my shirt and pulled.

“What is that?”

I watched in horror as the taller figure sank its teeth into the runner’s flesh. There was a sickening crunch that I knew could only be the sound of breaking bone, and then a squelch as the creature began devouring the space above the man’s left shoulder blade. I swallowed and took a step back.

“I’m not sure.”

We stared at the scene before us. It was like watching a horror movie; only instead of sitting in one of the plush red seats at the Multiplex in downtown Phoenix, it was right in front of us, almost as if it we were watching a live performance. I winced as the monster broke off the man’s right leg and started sucking out all the muscle and tissue filling the inside. I heard Miss Carey’s – my science teacher – cheery, sing-song voice ringing in the back of my head.

“And the lower section of the leg is called the tibia! That’s t-i-b-i-a…”

I hadn’t even realized what the thing across the street was – not then, anyway. I certainly didn’t think it was a zombie. Why would I? The only zombies I’d ever seen were whilst playing Call of Duty, and the one currently in front of me definitely didn’t bear any resemblance to the virtual ones.
“I think,” I whispered slowly, reaching for Luna’s hand. “We should go back inside.”

Just as we began shifting towards the door, the zombie snapped its head in our direction. I frowned with confusion as I took in its features. There were no brains hanging out the side of its head, or worms squirming through holes in its face, or gelatinous green slime coating its clothes. If anything, it looked…human. Well, at least normal. Bright, shiny blue eyes stared out from beneath short dark bangs. It wore a fitted designer polo shirt; carefully toned biceps inching out from beneath the fabric, and an Arizona League Angels baseball cap – the same one my uncle sometimes wore to games. If it weren’t for all the thick, sticky blood smeared around the zombie’s mouth; and the slight greenish tinge beneath its skin, you could probably have mistaken it for any other regular guy on the street. I shivered at the thought.

Excited by a potential new dinner course, it dropped the man’s arm and raked its eyes over the exact spot we were standing. There was a growl as it licked its lips, and I felt my heart leap into my throat in panic. I wasn’t sure how fast the zombie had been running but it’d obviously managed to catch up with its last victim; and he’d been going way faster than I knew I ever could. I’d already been thrown off the track team by Coach Cahill for being too slow. If I couldn’t outrun a bunch of seventeen year old high school girls, how would I ever be able to outrun something that wasn’t even human?

“Okay,” I said, taking another step back; my hand still clutching Luna’s. “On the count of three, we’re going to run. And we’re not going to stop until we’ve made it all the way into town. Got it?”
Luna nodded silently.

“Okay. One…two…”

Just as I reached three, the zombie was thrown into the sky by an unseen force. It catapulted up above the ground with a grunt, twisting through the air like a mannequin before crashing back down to the floor. There was a sudden rush of sound, and that’s when I realized the influx had started. Hundreds and hundreds of people – some I recognized from school or church – came pouring into Hollyhock Lane; each one screaming or yelling with terror. They, exactly like the runner we’d just witnessed being eaten, were being chased.

“What’s going on?”

I turned to see my parents standing in the doorway. My dad narrowed his eyes in confusion at the chaos that’d started to fill the avenue. Slowly, the people across the street – the ones having the barbecue that my grandma found so much enjoyment from watching – began to trickle out from behind the conifer trees that shaded their backyard. I watched as the guests stared at the bedlam in front of them; perfectly manicured fingers still clutching champagne glasses and spicy five-piece kebabs. Nobody moved at first; I think because they hadn’t quite realized what was happening yet. It was hard to tell who in the crowd was a zombie and who was not. It was only when a blood covered creature launched itself at one of the guests and started ripping out her tongue with its teeth that people suddenly decided that standing still wasn’t such a good idea.
My mom shrieked and grabbed at my dad’s shirt in panic.

“Oh my God, Robert, do something! Call the police! You can use my cell-…”

She tailed off as the cop came into view. I think we all saw him at the same time, because I heard mom gasp at the exact same moment my dad swore. The officer lurched toward us; blood soaking his uniform. From the way he was moving, he appeared to be drunk.

But he wasn’t.

He was just missing his head.

“Is this what really passes for decent local policing in this city?” grandma asked, clicking her tongue. “Someone really ought to do something.”

“Mother, go back inside. It isn’t safe for you out here.”

“Robert, I am seventy three years old. I will not put up with you telling me what to-“

The first flurry of gunshots rang out across the neighborhood.

“Okay, that’s it - everybody inside right now! I don’t know what the hell’s going on but I’m not about to let that,” he pointed to the cop. “Happen to any of us. C’mon.”

Everybody hurried back inside the house. I stayed where I was, still not able to believe what was going on. Mom paused in the doorway for a few seconds before suddenly spinning around to face me; panic flashing in her wide green eyes.

“Feather…where’s your sister?”

We turned to look at the hordes of people still rushing down the street. They screamed as savage, blood covered zombies flew at their bodies from behind. Some were getting crushed under the crowd. You could see arms and legs sticking up from the ground; some of them still moving as they fought to get back up. I couldn’t see Luna anywhere.

“Luna”?

Mom’s voice was desperate and shrill, and I knew she was starting to panic. I scanned through the mob of people, trying hard to pick out the familiar long blonde curls.
“What’s going on? Why are you still out here?”

I turned to see my dad standing out on the porch, looking at us inquisitively. Mom threw her hands up to her mouth.

“Luna’s gone!”

“Feather, help me!”

I recognized the tiny, high pitched voice right away. It was coming from somewhere inside the swarm. Without thinking, I sprinted from the driveway and into the mass of zombies.
“Feather, come back! Feather!”

I ignored my mom’s cries as I tore through the crowd. Clammy, discolored hands grabbed at my clothes and hair. Fingernails clawed through my jacket and across the skin on my arms. I felt something wet and sticky ooze down my elbow, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from screaming.

“Let go of me!”

I turned my head in the direction of the voice; trying to follow where it was coming from. Luna sounded helpless and scared. I didn’t know how she’d managed to slip away without being seen – I guess we’d all been so caught up in what was going on outside that nobody had bothered to notice. Also, she’d always had a weird penchant for disappearing. Sometimes we’d be at the grocery store or the mall and she’d just run off without telling anybody where she was going. Saturday mornings at Wal-Mart had turned into a source of danger for my mom’s adrenaline levels.
“Luna, where are you?”

Just as I caught sight of her, I felt something pull on the back of my head. I let out a scream as sharp nails dug into the back of my skull. My hair felt like it was being ripped out as I tried to turn around to see what had grabbed hold of me Remembering my MMA training, I threw back a foot until it connected with something hard and bone-like. There was a grunt of pain and suddenly I was free. In silently praised my dad for making me take kickboxing classes, even though mom was totally against the idea.

“Kickboxing is not a girl’s hobby, Robert” she said, glaring at my dad. “I wish you’d stop
encouraging her. She’s going to grow up thinking its okay to use her fists at the first sign of trouble. I don’t want my daughter believing that.”

“Look, Feather” said dad, pretending not to hear mom.”I’m not advocating violence. In fact, I’m actually a very peaceful kind of guy.”

I stared at him sceptically, picturing in my mind his collection of Magnum revolvers and Japanese throwing stars. He spent hours poring over hunting magazines, and was also chairman of our local neighborhood NRA.

“But the truth is, you never know when you’re gonna need to sock somebody in the mouth. And when you do, you have to be prepared.”

And now, even though it felt weird to admit it, I was starting to find truth in what he said. My fists were proving to be my best weapons as I pushed through the pack of zombies. It was as I did that I realized they weren’t like the ones you saw in those dumb slasher movies; hordes of slowly decaying monsters ambling around craving brains. No, these zombies were different somehow. They were sick, brutal killers; wild-eyed and alert, jacked up on adrenaline and hunger. All around me I could hear crunching and chewing as they ploughed through their moving human feast. Through the mob I saw a flash of blue, and realized it was Luna’s plaid blue pinafore. Heart thundering under my shirt, I tried to get a better look but a zombie stood in my way; growling and hissing as I attempted to push past it.

“Move!” I cried, launching my fist into its face. I cringed as my hand sank into its soft, discolored skin. It felt spongy and ripe beneath my fingers, and I thought about the big bowl of raspberries my mom had laid out on the table of party food. I shuddered.

“Maybe,” I said, hurling a second punch into the zombies face as it got back up from the floor. “You didn’t hear me properly. I believe I told you to move.”

It let out a moan as it fell to the floor; a thick crimson fountain spurting up from where its nose had once been. I was guessing by the crunching sound I’d heard when my hand crashed against the bone that I’d busted it. Broken bones were a sound I was beginning to recognize as I moved through the crush of bodies. Splintered pieces of cartilage lay scattered across the ground; white and waxy looking. I felt the pizza I’d eaten back at the party start to somersault inside my stomach.
“Luna!”

Scrambling through the last row of zombies, I watched as Luna was pushed into the back of a shiny black car; totally non-descript apart from the fact that the widows were tinted. An impossibly tall figure – at least six and a half feet – slammed the door closed behind her, ignoring her pleas of escape. It wore a jet-black hooded cloak; so long that I couldn’t even see where the fabric ended and its shoes began. I wasn’t sure it even wore shoes. Before I could get any closer, it got in the car and took off down the street. I let out an exasperated cry and ran after it, despite all the blood still dripping down my arm.

“Luna! Luna!”

As it sped down the lane and into the darkness, way faster than anything on two legs could ever be, the last thing I saw was the license plate. The bright yellow metal shined out from the back like a beacon, and as I squinted I saw it was Californian. I may not have been able to follow it but at least I had an idea of where it was going.

“Feather, go after her!”

I turned to see my parents pushing through the mouth of the crowd; tripping and stumbling as they struggled to stay upright against the swarm of jostling bodies. My mom’s shrill cries rang through the air as a zombie launched itself at her. I watched helplessly as it knocked her to the ground. Dad stared in horror, frozen to the spot for a few seconds, before he too was pulled to the floor by one of the creatures. I clapped a hand to my mouth and tried not to scream. Less than twenty four hours ago I’d been an ordinary teenage girl, with friends, and a job, and a place on the twelfth grade soccer team. In under sixty minutes I’d somehow managed to become an orphan, let my little sister get abducted, and witnessed what appeared to be the start of the end of the world.

The party, I realized as I stared at the carnage before me, was most definitely over.