“A Full English with no beans, and extra tomatoes please.”
“Full English, no beans, extra tomatoes; that’s £4.65, mate.”
“Lovely, thanks.”
“Cheers. You’re on Table 3.”
“Alright.”
‘Damn’, Gabe thought as he sank drearily into the sun-bleached seat, taking in the greasy smell and musty haze of the small corner diner he’d found himself at. ‘That was the last of the petty cash. I’m on emergency reserves.’ It had been a few weeks since he’d left home, coasting by mostly on the savings he’d managed to scrape together, desperately hoping to stumble upon some sort of supernatural, paranormal type incident thing that he could help with and get paid for. He knew people did that kind of thing for money, and right now, that was really the only thing he had any reason to cling too. But so far, he hadn’t had much luck; every ghost story had been wonky pipes or a gas leak, every demon sighting had been a rabid animal (or a rabid man), and he never really worked passed the apathy stopping him from chasing up those two UFO sightings in Bricket Green. A small part of him began to wonder if maybe he should head back home and try and find some family to contact, just give up this whole charade. He thanked the waitress that interrupted his glum musing with a plate of greasy fried food, and after a long exhale, began to tuck in to the fine feast he paid nearly a fiver for.
“- I told you, I can’t call the Police. They’re never going to believe me.”
Gabe was a bit less interested in how inelegant the egg looked hanging from his mouth, and instead focused a bit more on perking his ear to listen in on this conversation. A quick sideglance showed him a table out of the corner of his eye occupied by two girls, two of the maybe four or five other patrons carrying on with their business in the diner at the time; a blonde girl that looked to be around his age with a deep look of concern on her face, and a taller, dark-skinned brunette with heavy bags under her eyes, and the thousand yard stare to match.
“Jen, are you sure he was really...” The blonde said, reaching over to touch her friend’s shoulder. She shivered a little bit at the touch. “Y’know...”
“Posetive, Fi, absolutely positive. He was gone... and then...” she covered her face, shuddering slightly. "He wasn't."
He knew it was invasive, incredibly forward, and pretty rude, but it sounded and looked like this girl was in trouble to Gabe; trouble of a supernatural nature. Gulping down the egg at long last, he quickly wiped his mouth on one of the many napkins sitting under his cutlery, before strolling over to the two girls.
“Uh, pardon me...” Gabe said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing. Did you say someone... Came back from the dead?”
The blonde looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, mate, it’s none of your-”
“No, no, it’s alright.” The brunette said, cutting off her friend before looking up at Gabe. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“The accent, right?” Gabe said with a slight smile. “No, I’m not. But I might be able to help you. My name is Gabriel.” He extended his hand. “Just call me Gabe. Everyone does.”
“Jenifer.” The brunette responded with a sad smile, shaking his hand before gesturing at her friend. “This is my friend, Fiona.”
“Mmhmm.” Fiona said, lazily waving a hand and side eyeing Gabe with the most mighty of side eyes.
“The pleasure’s mine.” He said, sinking into the extra chair between the two girls and trying his best to ignore the intense side eye. “So, what seems to be troubling you? A face like that, it’s gotta be pretty heavy.”
“It’s my dad.” Jennifer said, her face settling back into one of unease. “He works as a bouncer at a local night club, so I’m used to him coming home with a few bruises and bashes, but... Last night, he... he came home last night with a bite mark on his hand. Said some boozed up weirdo waddling in the alley behind the club bit him as he tried to escort him off.”
Gabe winced. “Yikes. That’s pretty heavy, alright.”
“Th-that’s not the worst part... He...” She looked down at the plate beneath her, still full of food, and began shivering.
Fiona turned to Gabe. “She told me this morning that when she went to wake him up, he was laying on the bed, eyes open wide, skin as pale as anything. He’d only been dead maybe about half an hour, we think.”
“Jesus...” Gabe said, a small knot tightening in his stomach. He felt a little bit guilty for imposing, suddenly. “I’m... sorry, but...”
“That’s not all.” Jennifer said, talking but still clearly shivering. “A few minutes later, I heard him... get up. I heard him walking around his room just as I calmed myself down enough to try calling someone... I was so spooked I bolted out the door.” She sniffed, rubbing one of her eyes, clearly trying not to cry. “I don’t know what to do... I mean, the dead don’t just get up and walk around, do they?”
“You’d be surprised what’s possible, Jennifer.” Gabe said, pulling a ratty packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, and slipping one between his teeth. He offered the box to both of the girls, but both of them politely waved him off. “I know I’m imposing a bit, but I’m actually... well, I travel around looking for people with problems. Unexplainable ones that the Police and the Army wouldn’t touch with a barge pole.”
“What, is that your job or something?” Fiona said, rolling her eyes at Gabe as his theatrics.
“Something like that.” Gabe said through gritted teeth, striking the cigarette alight, and pausing to take a drag. “I haven’t really heard about dead bodies getting up and walking before... but I’ve seen a few things. I’m willing to give anything a chance.”
“What do you mean?” Jennifer asked, rubbing her eyes on the back of her sleeve.
Gabe cracked another smile. “I’d like to take a look at the body.”
---
Number 45, Bakers Way. Pink paint peeled off the wall in a few places and a few of the tiles in the driveway were cracked, but otherwise, it seemed like a perfectly normal suburban home. The only thing adding to the slightly creepy air was the miserable weather; the clouds in the sky were almost black, and there was a definite chill in the air. Fiona crossed her arms in an attempt to combat the chill, and Jennifer had buried herself in her jacket. Gabe didn’t seem as bothered by the weather, but he did feel a sense of dread about the house. Something wasn’t right.
Even from out here, it smelled of death. The stench only intensified as the three crept down the driveway. Shakily, Jennifer gripped the handle of the door, turning the key in the lock; the interior of the house didn’t betray the outside, looking just as cosy and suburban-y as any home with cream walls and a stack of pamphlets and other junk mail bundled up next to the doormat would.
“You said he died in his room...?” Gabe asked quietly, gazing up at the staircase.
“Uh huh...” Jennifer said, her gaze also aimed upwards. Gabe could see what little colour remaining in her face start draining as well, stuck to the spot. He couldn’t tell with it was grief or fear that was doing it, but after a few moments, he gently reached out, touching her shoulder. She jumped a little at the sensation, turning to look at him.
“You shouldn’t have to see your father like that. Not again. I’ll go.”
“You’re not getting off that easy.” Fiona said, shoving her way between the two of them. “Jen, call the emergency services, tell them what’s happened. I’ll keep an eye on blondie here while he does... whatever.”
“Pot calling the kettle black, much?” Gabe murmured to himself.
Jen smiled at the pair of them, nodding, before heading into the front room. Gabe started climbing the stairs, a hand in one pocket and the other gripping the bannister, Fiona following close behind. The more the two ascended, the more dread filled the air. He could heard Fiona gulp uneasily behind him, and resisted the temptation to do the same. As the two reached the top landing, a short square that broke off into three rooms- one door open, two doors shut- he turned back to her.
“Which one is her Fathers’ room?”
She didn’t reply, pushing past Gabe instead.
“... You don’t trust me.” He said, flatly.
“I think you’re trying to mob us off.” Fiona said, venom in her voice as she approached the farthest door away, rolling and unrolling the sleeves of her hoodie. A nervous tic. “Steal all of Jen’s valuables or something.”
“Oh, that burns.” Gabe said, genuinely hurt. “You think I’m a con artist?”
“Who the hell else comes up to a grieving girl and feeds them the bullshit you did unless they want to steal from them or fuck them?” Fiona said back, as she gripped the door handle.
“You don’t believe in honest philanthropy?”
“No, and I sure as hell don’t believe the dead get up and walk around either.”
Fiona swung the bedroom door open gesturing into it, no doubt about to break into a speech about how the body was still there and how Gabe had five minutes to get out before the Police got here, but she stopped cold when the only sight that greeted her was an empty bed. The sheets were in complete disarray, and looked heavily stained with sweat, and what appeared to be blood. What few shards of glass remained appeared to be bloody, as well.
“Wh-what the... hell...?”
Gabe squeezed passed Fiona wordlessly, bending down next to the bed, eyeing it up. His forehead furrowed as he assessed the damage. Far too much blood for a simple hand wound, just as he’d suspected. Fiona carefully stepped in after him, the floorboards creaking loudly beneath her feet, glaceing at the grisly scene. “What happened here...?” She whispered.
Gabe bent over a bloody portion of the sheet, sniffing it. He heard Fiona dry heave as he did, but that was the least of his concerns. “This blood smells rotten.”
“How the hell can y-you tell that?” Fiona choked out, regaining her composure somewhat.
“Get Jennifer.” Gabe said, ignoring the question. “We have to-”
As he turned around, his eyes met with not only a very unsettled looking Fiona, but a figure shambling towards her.
“BEHIND YOU!”
Fiona jumped a little, quickly spinning around and letting out a hushed gasp at the skulking figure, backing up next to Gabe. “Th-th-that’s-!”
The pair looked up at the figure slowly advancing on them. It appeared to be a man in a pair of pyjamas, but his skin was far, far too pale; deathly pale. Of his two hands raised, one was covered with a soaked-through bandage who’s red tone clashed with the almost grey skin, but matched his eyes, which were a solid, angry crimson. Drool dripped from it’s teeth hungrily as a low moan escaped from it’s mouth.
“Oh christ...” Fiona whimpered, covering her mouth as her and Gabe’s backs pressed against the wall. Gabe looked on in stunned silence for a moment; he honestly should’ve expected anything, but he wasn’t expecting this. Every fibre of his being told him that this thing was a zombie, and that if there was one, there were probably more, and that he should REALLY stop inner-monologuing and bash the damn things brains in with something, anything. In blind panic, he grabbed a nearby lamp and flung it at the zombie’s head as hard as he could; by some miracle it struck the beast between the eyes knocking it backwards and disorienting it. He grabbed Fiona’s wrist firmly, dragging her along with him as he made a mad dash for the stairs.
“What the hell was that?!” Fiona shrieked as the pair took the stairs two at a time.
“Y’ever seen a Romero movie?” Gabe said, gasping between words.
“You’re not serious.”
“If you don’t believe me, you can always go back up and check.”
The pair dove into the front room, panting, both staring at a very confused looking Jennifer, who was sitting on the edge of the sofa twiddling her fingers idly.
“Wh-what is it...?” She asked. “What’s wrong? I heard a crash, and...”
“Turns out you were right.” Gabe said, eyes scanning the room for a weapon. “Your old man was dead. And then he wasn’t.”
“Wha...? But...” Jennifer said, turning to her friend with wide eyes. “Is he...?”
“I don’t know.” Fiona said as she leaned on the doorframe, trying to catch her breath- and her composure. “But he certainly thinks so...”
“Look, I’ve never encountered this kind of thing before.” Gabe said honestly, giving up on his search for a weapon temporarily. “But I have... a bit of a history with weird shit. Family history. I know from experience that there’s weird fucking shit going on in this world, and I guess that also includes the dead rising from their beds.”
“You mean graves?” Fiona chimed in.
“Right, graves, yeah.”
“My dad is...?” Jennifer asked, despair covering her face like a blanket.
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do...”
The air in the room changed from one of frantic terror to dread very quickly as everyone fell silent. Jennifer hung her head, clearly trying to process hat was happening. Fiona nervously gazed up at the staircase as an impromptu lookout. Gabe simply looked down at the floor; ‘this must be what doctors must feel like when they give bad news...’ he though to himself.
“... What do we do?” Jennifer said, breaking the silence. There was pain in her eyes, but Gabe could see she was trying to stay strong.”
Heavy footsteps and a loud moan followed, causing all three of them to jump.
It was coming downstairs.
“Do you have anything we can use as weapons...?” Gabe said.
“There might be stuff we can use in the shed.” Jennifer answered, casting a glance at the stares, but only a small one.
“Alright,” Gabe said, nodding. “Come on, then.”
The three bolted out of the living room, turned into the kitchen, snuck through the back door and were soon face to face with a run down looking shed. Gabe stepped forward, and groaned upon discovering a very tightly wound not covering the clasp. Sighing, he started fiddling with it, muttering obscenities under his breath.
“Any luck with the Police?” Fiona asked Jennifer, fiddling with her sleeves again.
“I tried getting through a couple of times, but the line was busy.” Jennifer said, bending down to retie one of her shoes. “You ever heard of that? A busy emergency services line?”
“Makes sense.” Gabe said as he continued fiddling with the string tie. “You said it yourself; your dad was bit last night. It was a minor bite, so it probably took longer for... whatever it is in the bite to... y’know.”
Jennifer looked up at him, darkly. “You mean... More of them?”
“There’s always a patient zero, and it wasn’t your dad.” Gabe said, resorting to dealing with the tie with his teeth, tetanus be damned. “There’s got to be at least a couple more out there.”
“You’re not suggesting...” Fiona said, her sharp exterior dropping for a moment as raw terror spread over her face.
“I don’t know.” Gabe said, honestly. “I’m... kinda new at this sort of thing. I don’t really-”
He was cut off by the sound of a shriek from a garden over, followed quickly by a moan, another scream, and the cracking of wood; all three of them turned around just in time to see a neighbour fall through the fence, a middle aged white man with greying hair, shrieking loudly as a hooded figure toppled him to the ground and began biting down on his neck; blood sprayed from the wound violently as crunching sounds filled the air and the mans shrieks got weaker. The three teens looked on in stunned silence as the man writhed beneath in pain beneath the creature, spasming violently until just as suddenly, he stopped, and the sound of chewing filled the air for a few moments. Gabe gulped loudly, slowly climbing to his feet as the creature feed, ripping tendons away as a sea of crimson began to pool across the grass and onto the path. He silently fumbled with the tie, gazing quickly at the two girls with a look that said ‘make a sound, and we’re dead’, his lips mouthing a silent prayer as he slowly continued working at the tie; Fiona looked on at him with pleading eyes, whilst Jennifer looked down at the creature feeding on her neighbour with numb horror. Just as Gabe thought he was making progress, he caught his finger trying to pull away from the tie, which caused him to stumble slightly, his foot striking and knocking over a potted plant.
The creature stopped feeding, and slowly glanced up. Bright red eyes locking with Gabe’s, it’s gaunt expression morphed into an angry scowl, white teeth clashing with a blood soaked maw. It rose to it’s feet, clawing at Gabe wildly.
“GET THAT DOOR OPEN!” Gabe shouted, backing away from the advancing zombie, taking up it’s attention. Both girls dashed over to the shed and began awkwardly fumbling with the tie, pulling and tugging at it, whilst Gabe scanned the ground for anything he could use; absolutely nothing but a lawn chair, typically. As he reached for it, the heel of his sneaker dug into an uneven paving slab, sending him and the chair tumbling to the ground; he reflexively pulled the chair in front of him as he went down, tanking the shock of the ground and accepting the slight daze it gave him; his vision went hazy for a few moments, but he could see- he could feel- the hooded zombie had straddled him, and was clawing at him wildly, practically roaring at him. Overwhelmed by the sudden severity of the situation as his vision cleared and the smell of rot filled his nostrils, he let out a cry, holding on to the chair for dear life.
Fiona gazed back at the cry, briefly pausing to look at the scene, before turning back to the door. “Oh, fuck this.” She said, lifting up her foot, and kicking at the door as hard as she could. She could feel it start to give, but it wasn’t quite enough. Jennifer saw what she was doing, and nodded at her, the pair of them lifting up their legs and kicking in unison the second time around; the snapping of wood filled their ears as the door- sans chucks where it came away at the hinges and the lock; clattered down to the stone floor of the shed; unopened tins of pain lined the shelves, bike parts were stacked against the wall, and there, haphazardly thrown to the side, were a spade and a pitchfork. Jennifer grabbed both, handing the spade off to Fiona.
Gabe had shut his eyes at this point as the zombie pressed down harder, it’s gnashing teeth close enough to his face that he could feel drips of drool hitting his cheek. Then, all of a sudden, the pressure lifted; still gripping the chair hard enough for his knuckles to go white, he opened his eyes, and saw the zombie shrieking, a pitchfork piercing his chest. Blinking, he realised Jennifer had spiked it with the pitchfork, and watch her strain, pulling the zombie off of him, and pulling the pitchfork out with it. As the Zombie awkwardly shuffled up off the ground, Fiona ran in brandishing the spade, and with a yell, swung the spade at it’s head; the flat edge collided with the head, caving it in with a sickening crunch; the zombie fell to the floor a second later, and didn’t get back up.
The silence hung in the air for a moment, broken only by the collective panting; Gabe shakily stood up, brushing himself down. “... I thought i was a goner there.” He said, his mettle returning slightly. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Fiona turned around, blowing a stray part of her fringe aside as she slung the spade against her shoulder. “Couldn’t let something else kill you before I get a chance to kick your ass.” She said, smiling slightly. Gabe returned the cheeky smile as Jennifer came up next to him, cradling the hoe in her arms. “Are you hurt? He didn’t bite you, did he?”
“Other then my pride, I’m alright.” Gabe said, a little bit flushed. The three of them were suddenly aware of the faint sounds of moaning and some screaming on the wind. It caused all three of them to shiver a little bit.
“Ok, so we know there’s more then one for sure.” Fiona said, trying to distract from the sounds around them. “But that’s about all we know. Any suggestions for our next move?”
“Find somewhere safe.” Gabe said. “I’m... not entirely sure I can really handle this. Might be too big for me.”
Fiona looked uneasy, but didn’t say anything.
“The club my dad worked at.” Jennifer spoke up, a sudden energy in her voice. “It’s an old, sturdy building with big heavy doors, and it’s only a few streets away at most; barely a three minute drive by car.”
“We got wheels?” Gabe asked.
Jennifer shook her head. “No. But our neighbour...” She turned back to the man that was partially eaten by the zombie, looking down at him sadly. “Mr. Barrows... he drives. We can use his car.”
Fiona walked up next to her friend, gently rubbing her back. Gabe turned back to the house, just in time to catch the sight of the zombie from earlier pounding at the patio door angrily. “Uh, girls-”
He turned around, nothing the two girls staring in horror as Mr. Barrows stood up, blood still leaking from his open wound. His eyes slowly began turning red. A quick glance back at the fence told Gabe that it was unsettled from the hole, and enough force would move it.
“Run.” He said, as he charged at the fence, knocking it over with a shoulder barge with the girls in tow; the ducked into Barrows’ house, ignoring the disarray and blood streaks and weaving between kitchen counters, dashing down the hall and exploding out of the front door; there were a few zombies idling out on the street, shambling about awkwardly, one or two of them turning their attention to the trio. The faint sounds of screaming could be heard on the wind. They turned their attention to a silver Rover 620ti parked neatly in the driveway.
“Anyone know how to hotwire?” Gabe said, hands balling into fists as he noticed the oncoming shamblers.
“No need.” Jennifer said, lifting up a pitted plant by the door, producing a set of keys, striding over the car and unlocking it. “Perks of being friendly with your neighbours; you get to learn all their little quirks, like being forgetful.”
“God bless Home Improvements for teaching us all a valuable lesson, then.” Gabe quipped.
“Less smart alec remarks, more driving to safety, yes?” Fiona said, diving into the front passenger seat. Gabe quickly turned to Jennifer. “Driving lessons?”
“A few.” She responded, blinking.
“Excellent; you’re our designated driver.” Gabe said, scooting around the back of the car and climbing in behind Fiona. After pausing quickly to steel herself, Jennifer climbed into the drivers seat, nervously fiddling with the keys; after a few chugs and three way worried glances the engine kicked in, all three of them sighing in unison, thankful to be spared of such a droll cliche; Jennifer pulled the car out of the driveway just as a few shamblers closed in on them, almost catching them as it drove passed them, cutting on to the longer road Bakers Way opened up onto.
The three of them shared a sobering moment as the world around them passed by; numerous shamblers crawling out the woodwork- not quite enough for a horde, but more then you’d ever want to see in one place- various dead bodies with heads removed, caved in, or yet to revive dotting the landscape, people running away in panic, at least one car on fire, and more then a few homes with smashed windows and doors; as if on cue, thunder crashed in the sky, and the heavens began to open. The radio had turned on when the car started up, tuned to a local station, and a newscaster was currently rattling off the kind of advice you’d expect- don’t leave home unless forced too, board up your windows, quarantine anyone that’s been bitten, so on and so fourth- only adding to sense of dread that hung over everyone.
Gabe knew what the girls were thinking; ‘is this the end of the world?’ He wanted to give them some kind of answer, something hopeful to cling too, but he honestly had no idea himself. He knew how to handle ghosts, ghosts were easy. Demons? Even easier. Much more localised, too. Zombies? He never even considered that they were a possibility, and he felt very stupid because of it. No, more then that, he felt scared. Not just of the zombies specifically, but the entire situation; the not knowing what the cause was, the fact that this could be the start of a really big problem, how he nearly got eaten because he was careless... How impossible the situation felt to deal with. He hated it; he was supposed to be the hero, right? He was the son of Balthazaar, for christ sake; he had hellish blood flowing in his veins, why the hell should he be scared of anything? He gazed out at the sprawling field that had opened up on his side of the road; corpses, walking and static, dotted the green landscape in large numbers. He shuddered and looked away, down at his feet, biting his lip and trying to banish all the dread from his head.
Suddenly, he heard Jennifer and Fiona shriek, and was brought back to reality by both the noise, and the sudden thud that followed it; he caught the last few moments of a zombie’s unlife out the front window, as it’s midsection gave way beneath the front of the car, both halves falling beneath it; the sudden bumps and rough skidding caused the car to slide out of Jennifer's control, and right into a lamp post in a rough, but thankfully not too dramatic, crash. Momentarily dazed for the second time that day, Gabe moaned and shook his head, trying to get the world to stop spinning so he could make sense of it. “Everyone alright...?”
“Y-yeah...” Jennifer groaned, rubbing her neck.
“Still in one piece...” Fiona chimed in, cradling an elbow. “How ‘bout you, spikes?”
“Everything’s Kosher, so far as I can feel.” He grunted in response.
“Oh christ...” He heard Jennifer mutter as she gazed into the mirror. He and Fiona both turned to look out the back window; there was a bus approaching their direction quickly, and it didn’t look like it was going to stop. In fact, squinting, Gabe could see the driver had slumped over, dead.
“OUT!” Shouted Fiona, quickly unbuckling herself and clambering out of the car. Gabe and Jennifer followed in kind, jumping out of their doors mere seconds before the bus rammed right into the car, pushing it into the building a few metres away from where the crash had taken place; Gabe assumed the building it had crashed into was a restaurant that used gas cookers, otherwise there’s little logical reasoning behind the explosion that followed blowing the now split trio into opposite directions; Gabe had instinctively grabbed Fiona as soon as the crash started, and the pair were blown onto a patch of grass on the other side of the street together, both of them luckily not landing on the business end of Fiona’s pitchfork, while Jennifer rolled onto the concrete, bracing for impact and dropping the spade next to her. After taking a few seconds to recover (and let out a cough), she climbed to her feet, calling out. “GABE! FIONA!! ARE YOU OK?!”
“YEAH, WE’RE FINE!” Fiona shouted, already sat up as Gabe rubbed the back of his head.
“WHAT SHOULD WE DO?!” Jennifer shouted back.
“HEAD TO THE CLUB, WE’LL CATCH UP!!” Fiona responded, helping Gabe to his feet.
Jennifer looked behind her, suddenly remembering where they were; the club was maybe a street or two away her end. She gazed back at the fire with a worried look, grasping the spade tightly. “... Stay safe.” She murmured, before turning and running down the adjacent road.
“How do we get there from here?” Gabe asked Fiona.
“I know another way around.” Fiona said gesturing behind Gabe; he turned, noticing an alley that ran between the edge of the field, and a building on the corner of the road.
“Ah... the scenic route.” Gabe said, the knot in his stomach tightening. ‘Oh well,’ Gabe thought to himself, ‘you wanna be a hero? Shut up and deal.’
“You gonna be alright?” Fiona asked him. “Y’know, no weapon and all...”
“I’ll find something...” Gabe said, gazing down at the ground and seeing nothing useable. “Lead the way, kid.”
“... Kid?” Fiona said, cocking an eyebrow at him.
“Er, hon. Babe. Sweetpea. Chica?” Gabe floundered, tapping his fingers together.
“You’re a bit of a twat, you know that?” Fiona said, smirking at Gabe.
“Oh, leave me alone.” Gabe said, puffing out his cheeks and turning away, flustered, as the pair walked towards the alleyway.
It had been a hard day, and it wasn’t close to over yet.
---
~ Decon (26/10/14)
Heaven's Order & Before Heaven belong to Decon Theed