MZS- North East Read online

  Phone numbers were painstakingly exchanged and we were able to do some coordination and simple introductions via text message. The teen was too afraid to talk out loud.

  We’re basically at step two of the plan now. It all hinges on Tucker, which scares me a little. Fortunately Terri is with him to maintain his focus and drive him through the task.

  Before Terri knocked on McLean’s door, she had checked most of the other apartments on the floor. Some of the people who had fled the building listened to the emergency broadcast message and left their doors unlocked. This was before she knew there were zombies in at least one of them. But now we know the building is mostly safe and secure.

  Todd, Cupcake, McLean and I are at the side door, waiting. Tucker and Terri are in the apartment furthest away from this door. They have the zombie corpse from the hallway with them and are going to throw it out the window.

  Hopefully Tucker can get enough distance on it to reach the cars parked on the side of the road. When we hear the car alarms go off, we are going to count to ten, head out and battle our way across the street.

  I was a little skeptical about the plan. From what I know of sixteen-year-olds, you don’t want them to be the linchpin on something that affects your survival. We are relying on the one out there to buzz open the door when we reach it. There could be zombies hot on our heels at the time, so a mistake could end it all.

  McLean has a determined set to her jaw and I am impressed. Cupcake has fear written all over his face—I probably do as well. Todd’s crazy eyes are still frightening, but in this case I’m glad to have him with us.

  The familiar and annoying blare of a car alarm yanks me out of my head.

  “Let’s go,” McLean says as she pushes the door open, even though my count was only at four.

  Todd takes the lead and walks aggressively out onto the sidewalk. Cupcake is next and I push McLean behind him.

  I am going to stay with the door and hold it to make sure there is no sound when it closes. It will separate me from the group and I may shit myself while I wait, but I couldn’t let Laney take the risk.

  For some reason, I feel like we have the chance to keep her from ever having to kill a zombie. It’s a little unrealistic and I can’t take any crazy risks to make it happen, but it would be nice to at least put it off for as long as possible. They’re dead and ruthless killers themselves, but still it feels like a piece of me gets taken each time I have to kill one.

  The other three are nearly to the kids’ door when I am just halfway across the street. I forget that I’m not seventeen anymore. I’m too fat and out of shape to catch up with my peers.

  It’s also the crazy heel-toe walking that I’m not used to. I’m not convinced that it’s quieter than just trying to run normally, but I can’t stop from doing it.

  To my right, the horde of Zombies is working to triangulate on the car alarm. The way that it echoes off the buildings makes it difficult to pinpoint the source; more so when you don’t have sight or logic.

  McLean is holding the door open for me; I guess the kid got it right. I can’t believe how much I’m sweating from just the short jaunt across the street. Nerves probably have something to do with it, but I may want to think about getting rid of my chest plate.

  “Thanks. That wasn’t so bad,” I say, and smile at her as I take the door and follow her into the building.

  Proudly, I wait while the door closes and eases into the jamb. I’m not used to remembering little details like this.

  “Todd and Cupcake are waiting for us on the first landing,” McLean says. She tiptoes up the first few steps. I turn from the door and start to follow her. My grip loosens on my hockey stick and I let it slide up toward the point. I want to be careful not to bang it into the railing and make a loud noise.

  A few steps up, I look to see where the first landing is. My eyes fall on McLean’s ass—and it takes my breath away. She really is the total package; face, body and personality. I can’t believe I let her slide to the friend zone—what the hell is wrong with me?

  Maybe this is our second chance? When we get through with this zombie nonsense, I should put some effort into a relationship with her. I’m pretty sure she won’t leave New York; would I move here from Boston to be with her?

  Lost in my daydream, I slam my stick down onto a step like I’m using it for leverage to scale Everest. The hollow pong reverberates through the stairwell and everyone stops and looks at me.

  I wait to feel the buzzing in my chest that will signify the start of a race to the seventh floor.

  When no buzzing comes and we are satisfied that there are no zombies after us, we start climbing again. At the fifth landing, we stop to regroup. There are kids in the apartment and we don’t want them to have the door open any longer than necessary. We’re going to stay tight and go through fast.

  Before I can catch my breath, a face appears over the railing. It’s the teenager from the window. He scared the shit out of me but then his big bright smile warms my heart.

  His face has probably looked over this railing for friends a hundred times. I can picture him beaming down on birthdays and holidays while grandparents, aunts and uncles trudge upwards, bringing gifts and joy. With a smile like that, I know this stairway has never brought him anything but happiness.

  The buzzing appears suddenly and I know it’s all about to change. Instinctively I look to my escape route, behind me and down.

  Clear.

  “Aaaahhhh… Get. Off. Me.” The teen growls from above.

  His face disappears from the railing and we can hear a struggle. Todd and I start running upwards first. McLean is frozen and Cupcake is torn between staying with her and joining the fight.

  At the next landing I can hear bodies crashing into the railing. There hasn’t been the telltale scream of someone being bitten, but it’s only a matter of time.

  Another half a flight of stairs and I am in the lead. I have to save this kid.

  A foot glances off the side of my face. The leg it is attached to folds in half over the railing. In the gap between the railing and the floor, I see a chomping zombie mouth biting at the air. Its torso thuds off the railing and the body tumbles down the center of the stairwell.

  The undead body lands with a loud “schpluutt.”

  When I finally make it to the teen, he is visibly shaken. “That was Mr. Williams,” he says, staring out over the railing.

  “I’m sorry you had to do that. It was very brave and you should be proud of yourself.” I don’t know what to say to my friends; how can I figure out what to tell a teenager?

  When McLean makes it to the landing, she physically pushes the kid into his apartment. We all follow them in and Todd turns to secure the door.

  From a small doorway two little faces peek out into the room we’ve entered. This place is a lot bigger than McLean’s or Terri’s apartments. It looks like there are two bedrooms and a separate kitchen, as well as this big entry area and large living room.

  “I’m McLean. That’s Patrick, Cupcake and Todd. You must be Isaiah?”

  He knows our names but couldn’t have known who was who, so McLean’s introduction helps.

  “Let me get Jaden and Maya; they should say hello and thank you,” Isaiah says. He winces a little as he steps toward the door with the kids.

  The little boy steps out of the doorway before Isaiah can open it all the way. “My dad has beer,” he announces proudly.

  “You’re my new favorite kid. Can you show me where he keeps it?” Todd says, his as soft as I have seen it. I still don’t know his story and remind myself that he could be a really good guy dealing with some awful shit.

  Cupcake, McLean, and I stand silently in the strange apartment. McLean’s breasts distract me for a second, but I shift my gaze before I’m caught looking.

  I notice her version of armor. She took the time to run different strips of tape vertically and horizontally. The effect makes it look like her armor depicts a shower of kittens fal
ling onto a bed of flowers occasionally interrupted by an umbrella floating in the sky. How did she think of that, and how did she do it so quickly?

  “Maya’s a little scared and won’t come out,” Isaiah says as he returns to the room.

  “Give her a some time. It’s okay,” McLean says reassuringly.

  “Can I get you some water or another drink?” he offers. The kid’s polite, even under these insane circumstances.

  “Water would be great, for all three of us,” I reply. I’m not really that thirsty, but I know we could all use the hydration. Plus I want to help the kid feel like he’s doing a good job.

  When he disappears into the kitchen, I think about what it must be like for him. I’m twice his age and I am totally freaking out. This kid is calm, cool and collected. I think he might be the best nominee to be our leader.

  “Here you go.” Isaiah returns from the kitchen with three glasses full of water. The ice cubes floating on top are large; he added them after he filled the glass.

  Before we can say thank you, he’s back to the kitchen on a new errand.

  When he comes back, he’s carrying another glass of water and heading for the bedroom door. There might be a cookie or a piece of candy in the kitchen that could help to lure the little girl out.

  “Isaiah, are Jaden and Maya your brother and sister?” Cupcake asks before the young man disappears through the door.

  “No. They’re my mom’s friend’s kids. I hang out with them all the time though, so they know me pretty well,” Isaiah explains. He comes back to the room and takes a long sip from the water, looking at us, waiting for another question.

  Please Cupcake; don’t ask him where their parents are. If they are not here, it doesn’t matter. Don’t make a sixteen-year-old who is holding his shit together think about his mother or the kids’ mother.

  “Well, you’re doing a great job. You should be very proud of yourself,” I say, before Cupcake can speak and ruin things. I almost said “your mother would be proud of you,” but that would have been no better than asking him where she is.

  McLean

  Chapter 21

  Isaiah has been gone for only a few minutes but it feels too long. I’m also worried about Jaden and Todd. They have not reappeared from the kitchen since they went for a beer.

  “Would it be awful if I said I could use a beer?” I ask. I don’t want them to think that I’m checking on Todd.

  “I was just thinking we should check on Todd, too,” Patrick says, and smiles at me.

  “Can you seriously carry that, little man?” Todd’s voice spills into the living room.

  “I’m strong for a six-year-old. I can even pick up my whole toy box,” Jaden says.

  “Dude, you’re blowing my mind with those muscles. I don’t think I could carry something that heavy until I was, like, twenty,” Todd replies.

  The two guys come from the kitchen. Jaden is carrying a cooler bag that probably has a six-pack in it. Todd glows with pride while he holds the door open.

  “Look at this big man,” Patrick says, acting very impressed.

  I guess guy culture gets ingrained early. Jaden didn’t seem to need any cajoling; he’s totally into it. I cringe when I think about all the little boys that would rather draw or write but get railroaded into “guy world.”

  “Hey, could I lighten your load a little bit? I could really use one of whatever you’ve got in there,” Cupcake says as he stoops down to Jaden’s eye level.

  How did these three become so good with kids?

  I didn’t really want a beer, but when Cupcakes makes the cracking sound of an opening can, I suddenly need one. The thought of that zombie crashing over the railing and down to the first floor floods back into my mind. Even if it’s not healthy to need a beer, I think I deserve one.

  “I would like one too, please,” I say. I can still be ladylike and make Jaden feel important.

  Patrick does not have a beer, and I am a little surprised and a lot impressed. Along with the nice guy feedback, Patrick’s other key attribute was his ability to drink.

  The familiar tone of an incoming text message stops all conversation. All four adults reach into our pockets and pull out our phones.

  This one wasn’t for me.

  Patrick types slowly and I can see his mouth move with each word.

  “Terri and Tucker just wanted to see how we’re doing. The street is still clear except for a couple of stragglers,” he says after a few more exchanges.

  “We should plan on leaving soon, though. The street may not stay clear for long,” Cupcake says. He can’t seem to use a tone of authority; when he speaks, it sounds like a question.

  “What about sending someone down to keep an eye on the door?” Todd suggests.

  “Splitting up just feels like a mistake.” Patrick looks around the room sheepishly. “Maybe Laney can work her magic on the little girl and we can all get moving together?”

  I haven’t spoken with him about being in charge, but he reacts like he is. That’s not a bad thing, but he’ll have to be consistent about it.

  The buzzing fills my chest and then travels into my ears. I’ve heard or felt this before, but I try so hard to remember where that I draw a blank.

  There is a growl from the bedroom where Isaiah and Maya are. Oh god, I hope her mother wasn’t bitten and they were trying to take care of her.

  Another fierce growl fills the room and it’s follow by a SLAM! It sounds like furniture is being tossed around in there.

  The door that had been cracked open flies wide and adorable little Maya stands a few steps back. Her face is covered in blood and her eyes appear to be filled with milk.

  Patrick is closest to her, but his back is turned. When he sees my face he spins quickly to face the little monster.

  She starts running and he instinctively reaches his arms out to catch her. Unlike your average seven-year-old who jumps into your arms for a hug, this thing dives face-first. Its streamlined body creates a lethal spear of teeth.

  Completely caught off-guard by the attack, Patrick uses a wine-box-clad arm to deflect the mouth and deadly teeth at the last minute. Off-balance, he falls to the side opposite the undead child now lying prone on the ground.

  “Maya!” Jaden screams at the top of his lungs.

  Todd rushes across to the bedroom door, which seems an odd direction until I see why. The thing that used to be Isaiah is trying to find us.

  The former teen Isaiah is missing his nose and one of his ears. There is a massive chunk of flesh gone from his neck. Dark blood covers his clothes and his eyes have the same milky look as Maya’s.

  The buzzing is growing more intense and it doesn’t seem to be coming from just these two.

  Patrick is scrambling to find his hockey stick. It’s not far from his reach, but watching Maya is making it hard for him to locate it.

  Cupcake and I are frozen; what can I do to help?

  When Patrick finally connects with his weapon and Todd has raised his tire iron, I spring into action.

  Dashing across the room, I scoop little Jaden into my arms and spin his face away from the battle. Unfortunately, this gives me the perfect view of the carnage unfolding.

  Todd’s tire iron splurts into Isaiah’s eye and the lanky teen crumbles to the floor. As Todd turns to pull his tool out of the young man’s skull, I can see the pained look on his face and perhaps even a tear in his eye. Once he’s free, he immediately scans the room to find Jaden.

  After our eyes connect, we both turn to check on Patrick. He’s rolled little Maya over to her back and is standing over her motionless. At first I think he’s already killed her and I’m grateful to have missed that revolting event. Then I see her tiny brown fingers clawing at the silver duct tape protecting his lower leg. Patrick’s other foot is on her chest, pinning her—it—to the floor.

  Patrick looks back at me with tears streaming down his face.

  Cupcake finally comes around and walks to the door. He opens it and s
teps out onto the landing. With the door open, I can now hear moaning, over and in addition to the buzzing.

  “I think we’d better get going,” Cupcake says casually, directing his voice back into the apartment.

  Todd takes a step toward Patrick and flexes his grip on the tire iron.

  “Pat-O,” is all he says.

  The hockey stick plunges down, and while I cannot hear anything, I see the child’s talons release their death-grip from his leg. Maya is at peace, though she may haunt our dreams forever.

  Todd’s next steps are toward the door and me. After he disappears from my sight, I hear him as he speaks softly to Jaden. “Hold on buddy. Let me put this over your eyes. It’ll help you be invisible to the monsters,” he says. The little boy just clings to me.

  “Todd, you’ve got point,” Patrick says. It’s a statement, not a command, but it’s better than a question.

  “Yeah. Me, Cupcake, precious cargo, and you,” Todd says. “Don’t stop to think, man, do what has to be done, and then move.”

  Todd hurries through the door and Patrick pushes me to follow.

  When I step on the landing, Cupcake is halfway down the next flight of stairs. A zombie goes flying past in a blur. Its body folds over the railing, falling onto the stairs a few steps below Cupcake. Immediately, the head turns toward Cupcake and arms stretch out, seeking flesh.

  I walk slowly so that Cupcake can deal with the obstruction. He stabs at the creature’s head, but not with enough force to penetrate the skull. A chunk of hair and flesh peels off and falls away. Changing his grip, Cupcake drives the knife upwards toward the face of the zombie.

  My pace increases as the undead falls backward off the railing.

  We make it down two more flights before the onslaught really starts. Another two bodies sail past on the express route to the ground floor. A third slams into the railing behind me and I can hear Patrick grunt as he deals with it.