remembered, the sick feeling in his stomach swirling at the terrible memory. He took the remains out into the backyard, but didn't bury them. The entire hallway was stained dark red like someone had coated the walls and carpet with wine.
When it was all over, Tyler watched the lifeless bodies from the kitchen, waiting for them to get up, to tell him it was all part of some sick joke, that none of this was real, but they didn't move. Crows came down from the trees and began to eat Amy's remains. A few scampered over the pale bodies of Tyler's parents, but didn't land or eat any of the infected corpses’ flesh.
It's like they know the meat is bad, Tyler thought. How do they know? What can they sense that tells them not to eat the meat?
He wanted to run out and chase them off his sister’s body, but he knew it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did, really. That's when he started thinking about Emily. They were supposed to go to prom in a few weeks, but he knew that was off now. Sean said she was probably dead already. He argued that it was better to stay in the house, to board up the windows, and try to ride things out.
“Once this is all over we can go looking for her,” Sean offered. “Until then, it doesn't make any sense. It's like a suicide mission, bro. Just look out there. We'd never make it two blocks in that mess.”
Tyler hadn't listened. He'd insisted that Emily was alive. He knew it down in his bones, and he wasn't willing to let it go. He'd convinced Sean that with the two of them working together they'd be safe—but they weren't. They'd made a plan to distract the fiends by opening the side gate. Sean would lure them in towards the backyard, and once they took the bait, Tyler would run and get the minivan started. Sean would dash through the side garage door, cut back across the living room, run out the front door, and hop in the passenger seat.
“It will be easy,” he assured Tyler. “These things are dumb. They'll never even know what went wrong.”
But he hadn't anticipated Amy coming back. She caught him in the living room—having let herself in from the backyard through the wide open door—and attached herself by the teeth to his right calf. Sean was still dragging her along as he came out the front door, shouting for Tyler to go on without him. He fell down face-first into the lush green grass in their front yard. A swarm of neighbors converged on him, biting chunks of meat off of him from head to toe, like a kabob. Tyler could still hear his agonizing cries.
Why didn't he make sure she was really gone?
Tyler fought back angry tears. He knew the answer. No matter what happened, nothing in the world could make either of them cave in their little sister’s skull.
“Don't think about it now,” he told himself as another neighbor pounded the minivan. “What matters now is that you survive, otherwise Sean died for nothing.”
He put it in drive, and slowly inched forward, pushing most of them out of the way with the bumper. By the time he reached the end of the street, it was pretty clear his day wasn't going to get any better. He was blocks away from Em's house, and already there was smoke coming from under the hood, along with a terrible high-pitched whining sound that seemed to be drawing the attention of every last monster in suburbia.
“It's like a fucking dinner bell for the undead,” he groused, hitting the steering wheel with both hands as the minivan shuddered forward in jerks and spurts in response to him gunning the gas pedal.
He saw Mrs. Knudsen's rose garden up at the end of the street. The old lady spent hours every day tending to them during the summer months. Days when there was a warm breeze, Tyler could smell the fragrant blooms by simply opening his bedroom window. Now all he could smell was the foul stench of decay coming off the sun-heated reanimated corpses, ambling like a herd of sick cattle in the middle of the road, blocking his way out.
In a split-second
When it was all over, Tyler watched the lifeless bodies from the kitchen, waiting for them to get up, to tell him it was all part of some sick joke, that none of this was real, but they didn't move. Crows came down from the trees and began to eat Amy's remains. A few scampered over the pale bodies of Tyler's parents, but didn't land or eat any of the infected corpses’ flesh.
It's like they know the meat is bad, Tyler thought. How do they know? What can they sense that tells them not to eat the meat?
He wanted to run out and chase them off his sister’s body, but he knew it didn't matter anymore. Nothing did, really. That's when he started thinking about Emily. They were supposed to go to prom in a few weeks, but he knew that was off now. Sean said she was probably dead already. He argued that it was better to stay in the house, to board up the windows, and try to ride things out.
“Once this is all over we can go looking for her,” Sean offered. “Until then, it doesn't make any sense. It's like a suicide mission, bro. Just look out there. We'd never make it two blocks in that mess.”
Tyler hadn't listened. He'd insisted that Emily was alive. He knew it down in his bones, and he wasn't willing to let it go. He'd convinced Sean that with the two of them working together they'd be safe—but they weren't. They'd made a plan to distract the fiends by opening the side gate. Sean would lure them in towards the backyard, and once they took the bait, Tyler would run and get the minivan started. Sean would dash through the side garage door, cut back across the living room, run out the front door, and hop in the passenger seat.
“It will be easy,” he assured Tyler. “These things are dumb. They'll never even know what went wrong.”
But he hadn't anticipated Amy coming back. She caught him in the living room—having let herself in from the backyard through the wide open door—and attached herself by the teeth to his right calf. Sean was still dragging her along as he came out the front door, shouting for Tyler to go on without him. He fell down face-first into the lush green grass in their front yard. A swarm of neighbors converged on him, biting chunks of meat off of him from head to toe, like a kabob. Tyler could still hear his agonizing cries.
Why didn't he make sure she was really gone?
Tyler fought back angry tears. He knew the answer. No matter what happened, nothing in the world could make either of them cave in their little sister’s skull.
“Don't think about it now,” he told himself as another neighbor pounded the minivan. “What matters now is that you survive, otherwise Sean died for nothing.”
He put it in drive, and slowly inched forward, pushing most of them out of the way with the bumper. By the time he reached the end of the street, it was pretty clear his day wasn't going to get any better. He was blocks away from Em's house, and already there was smoke coming from under the hood, along with a terrible high-pitched whining sound that seemed to be drawing the attention of every last monster in suburbia.
“It's like a fucking dinner bell for the undead,” he groused, hitting the steering wheel with both hands as the minivan shuddered forward in jerks and spurts in response to him gunning the gas pedal.
He saw Mrs. Knudsen's rose garden up at the end of the street. The old lady spent hours every day tending to them during the summer months. Days when there was a warm breeze, Tyler could smell the fragrant blooms by simply opening his bedroom window. Now all he could smell was the foul stench of decay coming off the sun-heated reanimated corpses, ambling like a herd of sick cattle in the middle of the road, blocking his way out.
In a split-second
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