When the Dead by Michelle Kilmer

Author:Michelle Kilmer
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Horror, Science Fiction, Post-Apocalyptic, zombies, Genre Fiction, Literature & Fiction
Publisher: Michelle Kilmer
Published: 2012-09-03T04:00:00+00:00

Dead (ded) adj.

1. No longer living.

2. Having no capacity to live: inanimate.

She was dead.

“Who’s next?” Vaughn yelled in a macho, bring-it-on type voice, as he looked upstairs. He tossed the bloody dictionary onto the stomach of the dead woman and started climbing the up escalator.

3. Lacking feeling or sensitivity.

Vaughn was dead.

Isobel vomited and wondered to herself: What book was she looking for that was worth her life? Isobel still cared for others; she wasn’t dead yet.

She followed Vaughn up the escalator, making sure not to rest her hands on anything. Near the top they turned to face the balcony opposite them. Two zombies shuffled about but had lost the direction of the gunshot, leaving them without a clear destination. Vaughn, liking a challenge, took aim at the one closest but hit it in the neck so it continued to move around. The other zombie started to walk towards the balcony railing. Vaughn shot it in the face and it fell out of view.

They checked the Children’s section directly in front of the escalator. It was a wreck, books scattered everywhere, but no surprises, no undead children. Isobel found the dragon series Gabe wanted and put it in her bag while Vaughn kept watch. Once again they split up. Isobel went toward the games and upstairs bathrooms. She found a display of classics on the way and selected two for Ben: A Tale of Two Cities and Frankenstein.

The men’s bathroom was empty except for someone’s final shit, left in a bowl. The woman’s bathroom was not. Isobel tried to open the door but it only moved an inch before it was pushed shut from the inside.

“Go away!!!!” A man’s voice yelled coarsely. Isobel jumped back, frightened by the unexpected noise. He didn’t sound well, as in mentally stable. “I don’t like you. I don’t know you.”

“I’m not one of them,” Isobel assured him, coming closer to the door again, “if that makes a difference.”

“You can’t have this place. I found this place.”

She could hear his footsteps on the tile floor of the bathroom, pacing back and forth.

“I found it!” he yelled.

“I don’t want your hiding place. You can keep it,” Isobel laughed to herself thinking what a horrible hiding place a cold, unsecured bathroom was, especially once the water stopped running; especially inside a book store with little food or warmth. He didn’t have to convince her and he didn’t try. He said nothing else for a few minutes so Isobel tried again.

“Do you need any help?” She wasn’t going to invite the man to live with them or even tell him where they came from. He was unstable for sure. But maybe she could bring him a magazine or a rice krispie treat.

“Do you have water?” Upon uttering the last word his throat became drier, more rasp, and completely sane.

Isobel had a bottle, three quarters full, in her backpack. It wouldn’t do much for a man that refused to leave a terrible shelter. Perhaps only stave off dehydration by a day.

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