Used-to-be dad stood in Avery's doorway moaning. If you could call it moaning. Gurgles and wheezes of his blood filled lungs filled the silence in the air. I didn't know zombies could breathe. I made a mental note of that and turned to face Avery. The humor was gone now. Replaced with none other than fear, of course. For a moment, I was worried he was going to let out a blood curling scream. Until he slowly turned to face me and said, "Okay," he took a deep breath, "zombies, then."
I gave him a look that said I told you so. Maybe next time I say something, he'll believe me instantly instead of having to learn the hard way. Used-to-be dad began stalking to the window we were crouched behind. No doubt he could sense us in some way. Thermal, maybe. Possibly even scent. I don't know, but I don't plan on sticking around to find out. "Let's go." I grabbed Avery and pulled him away from the window. "Hey! Wait!" he said, shrugging out of my grasp.
"You know how this ends. If we stay any longer, I'll have to deliver him to his final resting place. And you'd have to watch. Move, now!" Used-to-be dad was moving in closer to the window. He must have broken something in his leg with the way that dragging noise is sounding. I grabbed Avery again, but he only dug his heels into the roof deeper. "It's gotta be one of us, Celine." I have to be hearing things. He actually wants this?
He must have read that thought on my face. He shook his head, "I want this about as much as you do. But he deserves better. He deserves it to be us." I looked away for a moment, tears stinging my eyes. As much as I hated it, he's kinda right. He fed, clothed, and kept a roof over our heads all these years. Sure, he wasn't around much. But that's what parents do, right? They sacrifice. And he did just that. I sighed, releasing a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I turned back to face Avery, used-to-be dad had made it to the window. Though he lacked whatever cognitive function is needed to climb up and over.
"I'll do it," was all I said. I walked over to my father, finally able to get a good look at what he has become thanks to the street lights in front of our house. The left side of his head was pretty much non-existent. His jaw seemed to be broken the way it was just... slack. He stretched his arms out to try and grab me. But I was an inch or two out of his reach. I reached around me and grabbed the pistol from my waistband. His pistol, I thought.
Thinking back to that day when he taught me how to work this thing. "Aim for between the eyes, Cel. Because if you're going to pull the trigger, you may as well make it count. And remember," I let the memory trail off as I clicked the gun's safety button off. "Only for emergencies," I said out loud. And then I pulled the trigger. A deafening POP! rang out in the night air. Dad's dead, but also undead, body hit the floor with a soft thud. I turned to face my brother. Our dad was his best friend. Despite rarely seeing him, they shared lots of FaceTime calls, texts, Snapchats, you name it.
He was turned away from the gruesome scene. I walked over to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Avie." He sniffled, and nodded. "What do we do now?" he asked, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his shirt. "Well," I sighed, "since I had to shoot the gun, I think we should wait a little bit up here on the roof. In case the loud noise stirred anymore of the fiends up. And after..." I glanced back at the window where used-to-be dad's body lay behind the wall, "I'm not sure."
"There's got to be other survivors, right?" I nodded, "Luckily for us, we've seen all the zombie movies and shows. Played the video games. We should be able to use that knowledge to hopefully survive this. So, I'm assuming there are others." He sniffled again. "I'm sorry I made you do that," he said quietly. "Hey," I draped my arm over his shoulder, "I did it so you wouldn't have to bear it. I'd do anything for you. You know that." He nodded, and then let out a small chuckle, "Yeah, now I know for sure you'd do anything."
The truth is, having to kill my already dead dad didn't really hurt all that much. It does, in a way. But I know it was something that had to be done. I'll have to kill lots of these, I'm sure. And eventually, I'll have to teach Avery to do the same. Sooner, than later. It's just that I was never close with either of my parents. I have nothing in common with either of them. Or our whole family, come to think of it. They're all college smarty pants, athletes, or career driven assholes. Not me, though. I'm more free-spirited, if I come by a job I like, I'll work it until it pisses me off. I don't have a single athletic bone in my body. But I can paint, I can draw, sing, and write poetry.
I love my parents. And I am beyond thankful for the life they provided for my brother and I. But I'm not Avery. I've never been the apple of their eye. They've never gushed over my paintings or drawings. They've never attended one of my slam poetry nights where I received snaps and standing ovations. So naturally, I rebelled. Flunked school so badly my junior year, I nearly didn't pass to the 12th grade. I stopped wanting to go. Stopped hanging with what few friends I did have. And made friends with, as my mother calls- called them, the wrong crowd.
Truthfully, my new friends weren't all that bad. Sure, they flunked out of school like I did. But they weren't criminals. Or hard core drug addicts. Everyone either smoked pot, cigarettes, or both. My parents... well, they were just dramatic. Sure, they were concerned for my future. Hence the forced boarding school. But I know a lot worse people my age. And damn it, I could have been a lot worse. I love them, sure I do. But I love my brother more. And there isn't anything on this earth I wouldn't do for him. But especially that. I wouldn't have let him pull the trigger on our dad if he asked. Even if it meant he'd hold that grudge with me forever and ever.
And hey, come to think of it, at least I don't have to be on a plane in a couple hours, to be shipped off to some stupid boarding school my parents swore would "help" me. Avery nudged my side with his elbow, drawing me out of my thoughts. I looked where he was looking. Another zombie. "Is that...," Avery blocked out the bright street light with his hand, "I think that's Joel." he said.
I put my hand up to block the glaring light, "Yep, used-to-be Joel." We watched the zombie walk at a normal pace. If it weren't for the missing arm and trail of intestines dragging in his wake, you would think he was human the way he walked. In movies, zombies always move slow and limp. But used-to-be Joel didn't. I wonder... I pulled up a shingle from our roof and frisbee'd it to land right in front of Joel, or the lack thereof.
Avery gasped, "What are you doing? He'll see us up here!" I shushed him, "I wanna see something. Just watch." Sure enough, as I expected, Joel took off into a sprint to where the shingle had landed about four-ish feet in front of him. "I bet he can run if he needs to." Avery was still looking at me with confusion plastered across his face. "Think about all the zombie shows you've seen. The movies. The games. They're usually mindless, slow moving, dead turds, Avery. I don't think these are like that. It's a good idea to make mental notes of the ones we come across. So we can be prepared to run for our lives if we need to."
Avery nodded. And then, a perfectly timed voice rang out. "Hello?" the voice called into the night. It was a female, whoever it was. It almost sounded like-- "Is there anyone out there? Please," the woman said between sobs, "One of those... things bit me. I'm bleeding pretty bad. Can someone please call an ambulance." Uh oh. Avery and I shared a look of realization. That woman's gonna turn soon. I tapped my finger to my temple. Avery nodded.
I started a timer on my cell. It's best to know at least about how long transitioning will take. One minute passed, then two. Then before I knew it, six whole minutes went by. Zombie Joel had taken off to find the bitten woman. But we didn't hear any screams so she must have gotten out of sight before Joel could get to her. I glanced back at my timer, eight minutes. That's when we heard it. At exactly eight minutes, a dragging sound began ringing out. That had to be her. I stopped my timer and watched the street like a hawk.
She finally emerged. Oh, that's... Mom. I turned my head to Avery. Only to see that he had already figured it out. He shook his head, "No." was all he said. "I will."
"I know, but no. We can't risk drawing more here." He draped his arm over my shoulder. "Thanks, but it's okay. I still have you." I gave him a small smile. I started to tell him that he is all I ever cared about when a gunshot sounded off, and our mothers dead, and also undead, body dropped onto the street.