Where is she?
That was all Greg could think as he stared into the growing twilight. Hours had come and gone since curfew. Leah should’ve been back ages ago.
“You doing alright, Greggy?” Shannon asked, glass in hand.
He blinked. “Huh? Yeah.”
“Gonna toast then, or what?”
“I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” She downed the scotch and poured another.
Where does she put it all? Greg was still recovering from this morning’s hangover, but here Shannon was, going straight to hard liquor like it was made of water. He’d never understand how someone half his size could drink twice as much and still be coherent enough to talk nothing but shit.
“Where’s Ricardo, anyway?” Greg asked, rubbing his scalp.
“Still in the guest bedroom with Lucy.”
Just then, their panting reached its climax. Greg chuckled. “Those two…” He’d have to make sure Ricardo cleaned up after. This wasn’t a frat house he lived in anymore.
“You know,” Shannon said with a lick of her licks. “They don’t have to be the only ones.”
The only response that deserved was a roll of his eyes. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Hell that Greg would ever do that again. He loved Leah. No one else. Forgetting that for a night was a mistake that’d haunt him the rest of his life.
Shannon was just pushing buttons, anyway. That was all she ever did. Even when she ditched her goth getup for Leah’s nicer clothes after a week in lockdown, nothing could cover up the narcissistic parasite beneath. This whole crisis was nothing more for her than an excuse to leech off someone else for a while.
Greg would never understand why his fiance couldn’t see that. Why it sometimes felt that she loved her more than him…
Shannon scoffed. “That’s it. It’s time you stop being such a downer, bro.” She got up and grabbed another couple beers.
“I’m not saying anything here.”
“Yeah? Well, your face says it all.” She planted the beer in front. “Go on and drink. She’s gonna be fine.”
He sighed. “You don’t know that, Shannon.”
“Yes, I do. This is Leah we’re talking about. Even if they did manage to lock her up, she’d be bitching them out until they let her come home. Probably telling them as we speak that she’s gonna sue them all into oblivion when this is over.”
Greg couldn’t help but laugh. “That does sound like her.”
She leaned in. “I’m telling you, if there ever was someone to get through this, it’d be Leah. She’s not about to let anyone get in her way.”
Anyone who isn’t you, he considered. “I just wish I could call her. Your text ever go through?”
She shook her head. “It’s been ‘sending’ for the past hour. Same as you.”
“Still can’t believe they haven’t gotten reception working yet. How hard can it be to keep cell towers going?”
“Probably harder than making cold cars to empty offices.”
You just never let up, huh? It was true that Greg was as rudderless as everyone else. As someone who worked in digital sales, he’d been hoping that this lockdown would be a goldmine. But the announcement had been too sudden to set up remote work, leaving him and his team to get by on their personal cells, and those calls were barely getting through. His current record was three successful calls in one hour, all to dead lines. If it wasn’t for his company’s own server that held all their emails and was built like a bronco, he wouldn’t be able to coordinate at all.
It was just another sign that the real damage was yet to come for this one.
“So you having that drink, or am I taking it too?” Shannon asked with a yawn.
Greg ran his thumb along the rim of the beer. “Maybe I should go out there. She wouldn’t be alone if I’d gone with her.”
“Seriously, Greg, now you’re just being a bitch. Stop with the sulking already. You have nothing to regret or feel sorry about. Leah’s a better person with you in her life. We can all see it.”
That was unexpected. “What makes you say that?”
She smiled meekly. “You got her to stop hanging out with me, for starters.”
Greg didn’t know what to say. This was shell-shocking. It might have been the closest that Shannon had ever come to giving him a compliment.
He took a gulp of his beer. “Thank you, Shannon. That means a lot.” Wherever this was coming from, he might as well encourage it.
“No problem, bestie.” She swallowed her own beer.
The cynical part of Greg took over, and he eyed her suspiciously. “You only said that so I’d drink with you, didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”
“You are the worst.” He chuckled. “It was still a nice thing to say.”
The two had a drink from there. Somewhere along the way, a text from Leah got through, and Greg breathed a sigh of relief. She’d managed to get an extension from one of the soldiers to fix the gas issue, and was planning on using the chance to clean up around the restaurant. It was apparently in worse shape than she’d thought since everyone had been forced out mid-shift. She would end up being there for hours to fix it all up, and longer still to return home now that curfew had started.
Eventually, Ricardo and Lucy got themselves together and joined the fun. The night started to progress again as the group waited for Leah to come home, and Greg almost let his guard down completely.
But then a car crashed nearby.
His heart skipped a beat. Leah… He went straight for the window, fearing the worst.
The car wasn’t hers though. It took a second to recognize Henry’s pickup, and another to realize that he’d bulldozed straight through his own mailbox. With a heave, his neighbor fell from the door and stumbled across his lawn. Moans spilled out as he went inside.
“What was that?” Lucy asked.
“It’s Henry,” Greg said. “He doesn’t look so good.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think he got hurt. Bad.”
“Do you think it happened at that march?” Ricardo asked.
Greg sighed. “I knew going was a bad idea.”
“That’s what you get for doing something stupid,” Shannon said.
Greg shook his head. “I’m gonna go check on him.”
“Leave it alone. He’s not our problem.”
Greg grimaced, but now wasn’t the time to argue. “You mind coming with me, Ricardo?”
“Yeah, man. I’ve got your back.”
Lucy clutched his arm. “I don’t know, honey. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Don’t worry,” Greg said. “We’ll just be next door. If something’s up, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Yeah,” Ricardo agreed. “It’ll be fine.”
The girls remained unconvinced, but the decision had been made. The two made their way outside.
Greg immediately regretted not bringing any lighting. It had gone dark fast, with the last ounce of color disappearing on the horizon, and everywhere else quickly turning black. It didn’t help that their block was in an awkward place between two intersections. No streetlights were strung up here.
“You hear that?” Ricardo whispered.
Greg perked his ears and swallowed the lump in his throat. Pops kept echoing in. Down the hill, from the valley, and from downtown itself, even this far away.
“Fireworks, maybe?” Greg suggested.
“Yeah, bro. Maybe.” Though he didn’t sound like he believed it.
“Let’s keep moving.”
They made their way to Henry’s and paused. The door was still open, but there was a fresh hand print slapped against the frame, turned black in the open night sky.
“That’s blood, isn’t it?” Ricardo asked.
“Yeah, it’s blood alright.” Greg knocked on the door and cleared his throat. “Hey, Henry! You alright in there?”
No one responded.
“Yo, Henry! It’s Greg. We’re coming in. Is that okay?”
Nothing.
Ricardo grimaced. It was clear that he was getting that same uneasy vibe. “We really doing this?”
It wouldn’t have been the worst idea to leave this alone. Henry had gone out on his own, and he hadn’t come to them for help. Whatever had happened downtown was on him, not them. They could walk away, just like Shannon wanted.
But then Greg marched through the door anyway. He’d been raised with too much empathy to stand by and do nothing.
“Henry!” he shouted. “Come on, man. We’re worried about you.”
“Yeah, dude!” Ricardo echoed. “My wife’s a nurse if you’re hurt. We can help!”
The house remained still.
Henry hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on, and had left them a trail of blood on the way through, along with a tipped-over nightstand by the stairs. Bloodied hand prints coated the wall every few feet. The floor creaked as the two worked their way upstairs, deeper into darkness. There was something seriously off about this. Greg couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe the dark, maybe the silence, maybe the unnatural stillness of his neighbor’s house at night. The further in they went, the more the hair raised on the back of his neck. Why couldn’t Henry just answer them already?
They followed the trail of blood to his bedroom. Greg chewed on his lips. The door was open, and Henry laid sprawled out on his bed. Fully clothed, like he’d just come home drunk.
“You okay, man?” Ricardo asked from the safety of the door.
No response.
Again Greg thought of letting this go, and again he knew that he couldn’t. What if this was Leah? He could almost see her again. Lying in their bed. Sheets caked in vomit. Eyes open but seeing nothing as her mind was lost in the high. How many times had Greg pulled her off the deep end like this? What would’ve happened if he’d let it slip just one time?
Henry was no different. Greg ran over and gave him a shake.
Still no response.
God, he’s so pale. This was bad. Really, really bad. Greg had never seen a dead body in the flesh, but the pallid, sickly look made him wonder if this was that, and when he pressed his finger against Henry’s chubby throat, he couldn’t feel anything beat back.
Greg opened an eyelid. They were solid white and lifeless. He peered deep into them, hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.
Until they flicked his way.
He’s alive! Greg immediately turned around. “Ricardo, get Lucy. We’re gonna need t–”
But his words got jumbled as teeth sunk into his neck.
* * *
Shannon paced the floor, her head on fire. What are we doing here!?
“It’s okay, Greg,” Lucy said, her hands gripping the blood-soaked towel around his throat. “Just stay with us.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but only blood came out.
“Don’t say a word!” Ricardo ordered, his cellphone raised. “We’re gonna take care of you until help arrives. Shannon, you get anything through yet?”
She scoffed, her own cell up. “No! It’s like these fuckers aren’t picking up.”
“Keep trying. Someone’s got to be out there.”
Just then, their someone did come again. Moans echoed from outside as Henry banged against the walls. That fat asshole wasn’t leaving them alone.
This was fucked. This was completely fucked. Shannon knew that they should’ve left him on his own, but Greg just had to be the white fucking knight. Now, look at you. From the way Ricardo had told it, Henry was seriously messed up to attack them like that. They might even be dealing bath salts.
And Shannon just could not handle this tonight. Ever since her meth had run out, she’d been crashing hard. The last thing she needed was some cracked out redneck trying to murder them, especially with all this pounding. Fuck, her head was killing her. Why couldn’t he go somewhere else!?
Henry banged against the door, and everyone started shouting over each other again, with Lucy telling Shannon to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, and to also check the garage, while Ricardo was ordering her to go upstairs with her phone to get a better signal, but to also check the basement while she was at it. They kept hammering her at once, both trying to get her to do something other than stand and stare.
Shannon buried her face into her palms. She couldn’t take this! She couldn’t sit here and wait to get killed while everyone bitched about it. She had to get out!
“He’s not fucking leaving and the cops aren’t coming!” Shannon snapped. “We need to protect ourselves now.”
“How!?” they both shouted, almost in unison.
“Either of you got a gun?”
They stared blankly at her.
“That’s what I thought. I’m dipping next door and lifting whatever this guy has stashed.”
“What makes you think you’ll find a gun?” Ricardo asked.
She snorted. “Please. You think Mr NRA doesn’t have a piece in some cupboard?” The pause was all she needed. “Stay here and keep Greg breathing. I’ll get something we can use.” The rest went unsaid. She’d bail at the first sign of trouble. Armed or not, she wasn’t about to go to jail for these people.
Shannon made for the backyard before anyone could talk her out of it. The shouting and pounding and moaning died out the moment she got outside. Her throat opened as it took in fresh air.
Damn, night had hit hard. Leah’s house was smack-dab in the middle of North Valleys, miles from downtown Reno, and in the center of outer suburbia. Shannon had gotten used to seeing all the lights shining from their neighbor’s little manors whenever the sun went down, but their block was completely quiet tonight. Most of the homes were still dark, and none of the lit ones were nearby.
That protest thing must’ve been more popular than they’d first thought, though Shannon wasn’t all too surprised, now that she considered it. A bunch of over-privileged whities would be the type who’d think they’d get away with it, and those were only type who lived around here.
At least my life’s been made easier. Shannon quickly hopped the fence around Henry’s property and made for the door. She didn’t bother being subtle when she started casing the place, looking for an opening. This wasn’t her first time breaking and entering, though she was happy that she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder the whole time for a change. No witnesses would be watching this one tonight.
Henry kept his place pretty locked up. Between the windows and the door, there was no easy way in, and Shannon couldn’t find an extra key hidden behind the usual suspect places.
A shriek echoed out from next door, followed by another of Henry’s bellows. Shannon caught sight of an old garden gnome nearby, hard as a rock. She sighed. Fuck it. With a spin of the gnome over her shoulder, it launched through the air. Glass shattered out where it struck, and she hopped through the opening.
Her eyes took in nothing but dark as she looked around. She brushed hair from her eyes, only for it to predictably fall back into place.
Again Shannon decided it wasn’t time to fuck around, and dug through her pants for a hairtie. She hated tying her hair back. It made her feel like such a loser, especially when combined with the plain tan shirt and dark-wash denim that Leah had made her wear. But she couldn’t have her hair falling over her eyes every couple seconds. Not tonight.
With her hair in a bun and eyes still seeing black, Shannon took out her cell and turned on the flashlight. Her phone was an old burner she’d bummed off Diaz, and it’d been through hell. The damn thing kept flickering every couple seconds.
Between the still darkness of some stranger’s home, the blood on the walls, the creaks in the floor, and the unsteadiness of the only light source she had, Shannon was starting to get a real bad vibe, like she was that character in the movie who was about to get murdered. It didn’t help that the bloodied hand prints on the walls were darker than normal, almost completely black in some places…
Shannon went through the house. One room at a time, one drawer after another. The smell of blood got heavier by the minute, and her head started to hurt again after breathing in that shit and seeing nothing but blinking lights. Why couldn’t her phone stay lit for five fucking minutes?
But she found what she was looking for in the end, right in the middle of the bedroom closet. Figures. Fucking rednecks. A gun safe had been nailed to the walls, with deadbolts made of steel. There’d be no way to bash this one open.
Luckily, Shannon had spent enough time on the street to know how to handle an obstacle like this. She doubled back a room and grabbed herself a paper clip and some bobby pins. Both were easy to unfasten.
With her tools all set to go, she put her phone away and went to work on the lock. The pins let her track each tumbler down where they were sitting, and the clip let her lock them in place. It only took a couple minutes before the final tumbler fell and the safe clicked open.
Shannon gulped. Holy shit. This guy had a fucking arsenal, with three long barrels and four more pistols just chilling on the rack, and boxes of ammo below. Was he trying to start a war on his own?
Shannon quickly nabbed the two that were her speed: a semi-auto pistol that was nice and sleek, and a 12-gauge double-barrel shotgun. There was a certain nostalgic level of satisfaction the moment she snapped her shotgun up. It’d been ages since she’d fired a gun, but she’d be unstoppable with these instruments of death in her hands.
More furniture suddenly smashed behind. Shannon spun on her heels just as Henry turned the corner. Shit. No way to sneak by him now.
She pointed the shotgun. “Stand back, asshole!”
The bastard loitered in the doorway, the shadow over his face. A couple seconds of awkward silence came and went as the two stood their ground. The only noise of note came from his heavy breathing.
“I mean it,” Shannon said, her brow furrowed. “Stay the fuck away.”
An inhuman hiss spilled out, and Henry limbered forth. Light flowed over his face when he passed the windows. His mouth was covered in blood!
Shannon fired before thinking. Henry moaned as the shot took him in the chest, and he fell without another sound.
The blood froze in her veins, and Shannon instinctively tossed the shotgun as if that’d save her from what would come next. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She hadn’t planned on shooting, but the fucker was coming for her with blood around his mouth like a fucking vampire, and she didn’t know what else to do! Shit, she’d actually gone and murdered som–
Henry moaned again and stumbled to his feet, as if nothing had happened. Shannon stared in horror at the wound that’d torn his chest open, leaving a hole where his heart was supposed to be. Light again spilled onto his face, this time revealing blank, white eyes without the slightest sign of life. He raised his hands and clawed for her.
There was no room to think. Shannon drew the pistol and opened fire again. And again. And again. Each shot pierced harmlessly through this demon’s body as he kept stumbling forth, until one of those empty fucking eyes got hit, and he dropped again. Shannon didn’t allow herself to be satisfied until she spent the rest of the magazine directly on his head.
Zombie, she realized. That was a fucking zombie. It was all coming together. From the government shit, to the rumors online, to the way their world had been thrown into chaos. How the fuck was this possible!?
A lifetime of shitty horror films should’ve prepared Shannon for this. From Night of the Living Dead to Army of Darkness and everything in between, she’d seen it all, and used to joke that if shit ever hit the fan, she’d know exactly what to do.
And yet, right here, right now, Shannon was fucking clueless as to where this went next. Did she bury him? Call the cops? Remove the head, burn his place down, and recite a demonic chant? All the shit-talking she’d done before, and yet it felt so pitifully wrong because, at the end of the day, there was still a dead guy on the floor in front, and she was holding the gun. What the fuck am I gonna do?
A car closed in. Shannon peered out the window and her heart skipped a beat. Leah. She would have no idea what’d happened. Not to Henry, or her, or Greg for that matter. Shannon’s throat tightened up as she considered that most. If Henry was a zombie and had bit him… Would that really happen next?
Shannon couldn’t take the chance. She scooped up as much ammo as her pockets could carry and went for the 12-gauge she’d tossed.
No matter what came next, Shannon would be fucking ready.
