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Christmas of the DeadThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Justin Carminati | |
| Friday, 11 April 2008 | |
The snow was heavy and all consuming – almost as if it was trying to swallow any memory of fall that had been left. It had come down with a vengeance the previous night and as had been reported, they'd been one of many houses on the block to suffer a power outage. It turned out that gas stoves were even more of a life saver in the winter then he'd realized, especially in the North East. It was Christmas morning, Jack Walker stood at his kitchen window – a hot cup of coffee in his hand – looking out across his front yard. It wasn't quite light enough outside to see anything but the freshly fallen snow did it's best to help out.
He didn't know if it'd been the noise he'd made or the smell of the coffee – but he heard the bedroom door creak open and his wife Summer stepped out. She looked exhausted, her eyes still like small slits on her beautiful face. She half smiled as she walked slowly over to the stove, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She grabbed a mug from the large oak cabinets and poured herself some coffee as she began to talk.
"How long do you think we have until the little monster is up?" She took a sip and then joined him in front of the window. Their 8 year old son lay asleep in his bedroom.
"I don't know I'm just surprised he isn't already up – I could sure go for another couple hours of peace and quiet – but I think that's pushing it." Jack replied, Summer let out a small laugh.
"Well, I better bring the stockings out before he wakes up." Summer set down the glass and headed back towards the bedroom.
Jack watched her for a little while, before turning around – he decided he'd make a nice big breakfast – that way they could get a little food in them before they opened gifts. Although he was excited about that part of it as well, he was especially excited for two of the gifts he'd picked out. The Xbox 360 for his son Derrick and the expensive necklace he had gotten Summer. He'd always been decent at getting gifts for people but this time he was especially proud of himself – he'd surely be husband and father of the year after this. His thoughts were cut short as he heard the door open again and footsteps heading towards the fire place in the living room.
The meal had gone over well, they had even been able to coax Derrick to actually eat a whole plate before he darted off towards the tree – he didn't even wait for them to join him before he was tearing off wrapping paper like it was the end of the world. They managed to rush in and watch him open up one of the presents they had both gotten him, a remote control car.
The presents were slowly whittling down, one by one. There were only three presents left - the 360, the necklace and something for Jack himself. As Summer leaned down under the tree to grab Jack's gift – a noise from outside interrupted her movement. It was a scream and by the sounds of it, it was close.
Jack got up from his spot on the couch and walked over to the window; he pulled the curtain aside and looked around. He didn't see anything but it was a bad angle for him to see anything other than the snow – which for some reason hadn't been plowed yet.
"I don't see anything, which is weird. I wonder who the hell is screaming at 8 in the morning." He stated. He then walked back towards the couch. But before he could reach it, there was another scream – but not the same as the first one. This one was deeper, like a males scream... a scream for help. This prompted Jack to head out to the mud room. He placed his boots on and grabbed his jacket. As he stepped out onto the front porch he could hear Summer warn him to be careful. He softly shut the door and looked down the street. Again it was silent for a minute while he stood there shivering.
And then he saw it, well, he didn't know exactly what it was but it was coming out of the house down the street. Stumbling, as if it was drunk – he watched closely for a moment as it began to slowly make its way towards Jack, towards the house. It would be another five minutes before he made it here at the rate it was going, but it was still a very creepy sight. Another scream rang out in the distance and then another. Now his curiosity was beginning to turn to worry, as he turned to grab for the doorknob a sound rang out that caused the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. It was the emergency siren, which he had never heard go off – not in the 10 years he had lived in Silver City.
He rushed into the house, slamming the door behind him – startling Summer and Derrick. "What is going on, Jack?" she hollered, covering Derrick's ears. She had a look of terror on her face and he was sure the look on his wasn't much different. He took a deep breath, he had to be calm – if not for him, and he had to do it for his family. "I don't know, but whatever it is – I'm sure help is on its way. Okay?" was all he could reply with, it wasn't much but it was better then him just grabbing a bottle of vodka and hiding like he wanted to.
"You don't know? You don’t know? What the **** do you know?" her voice was filled with worry, but it was masked with anger. She no longer had ear hands over Derrick's ears, now she had his head nestled against her stomach stroking his hair.
A Loud slam at the door, caused them all to jump – Summer shrieked and Derrick began to cry. She stood up quickly, grabbing for Derrick and heading towards the bedroom – hollering for Jack as she made her way out of the living room. There was a second slam, this one turning into pounding. This wasn't as unnerving as the slamming – whatever was making this was still smart enough to knock – what he had seen making it's way across the street didn't look at all human or intelligent for that matter.
Jack stepped inside the living room and grabbed for one of the heavy iron fire pokers. He gripped it tightly, feeling its weight in his hands. He took a deep breath and then stepped back towards the front door. He hadn't heard the pounding for 30 second maybe it was gone? BOOM! Nope, it wasn't… another deep breath and he swung the door open. And there stood Ben, their next door neighbor. He has blood on his face, a look of complete insanity on his face – but what was most noticeable was the large bite mark on his shoulder, that and the three men that were stumbling up the front steps. Ben let out a scream of horror, kicking and flailing trying to make his way in the house – screaming for help.
Jack didn't know what to do – grab the man's hand and help him in? Who knows what he might have caught or what might happen – them seemed to want Ben, not Jack. But could he kick the man back out, to let him be finished off by whatever the things making there way up the stairs were? Could he live with himself if he did? I guess he'd find out – without a second's hesitation – he slammed the door shut. The loud click of the door's locking mechanism was followed but an ear piercing shriek and then the shrieks turned wet – and it sounded as if they were eating him – but that was impossible – wasn't it? He didn't want to find out, he ran towards where is family was hold up. Pushing the door open, he saw them sitting on the bed – Summer was still holding Derrick, she was crying – wiping her eyes the best she could with one hand.
"We need to get out of here." Jack said, his voice was stone cold.
"Where are we gonna go? What's happening out there Jack?!" she was panicking, but it was okay, so was he.
"I don't know, grab something warm for you guys to wear and meet me at the back door – I've got to go grab something." With that, he turned and stepped out of the room. He headed up the steps, and headed for the closet at the end of the hall. His safe was inside, he turned the dial 2-0-0-1, the year he met Summer. It made a soft metallic click and opened up – inside was something he never thought he'd be this happy to see. It was a loaded 9mm pistol, with two extra clips and a box of bullets. He grabbed it out and checked the clip in the gun, full. He grabbed a small duffle bag from the floor and threw the two clips in it and the box of shells. He stuck the gun in the waist of his pants, throwing the fire poker on the floor and rushed back down the stairs.
As he hit the first floor, he heard a slam – but a different one this time. It wasn't coming from the door; it was coming from the – he heard one of the front windows shatter – glass spraying the floor. " ****!" he hollered out. Whatever they were, whoever they were … they were inside. He hurried to the back door where Summer and Derrick were waiting impatiently.
He leaned down, looking into Derrick's eyes. "Hey buddy, were gonna be fine ... I promise, okay?" he did his best to try and act calm. He didn't know if it worked or not, he didn't have time. He could hear shuffling feet, knew they were behind him – Summer's scream confirmed it. As he stood up and swung around he saw two of the men shambling towards him. He was caught off guard – they looked even worse up close, the smell emanating from them burned his nostrils – the flesh on their face seemed to almost have been melting off. He knew what they looked like, what they were – but couldn't say it, couldn't even think it. He fumbled for the gun at his waist, almost too long, almost costing him and his family their lives. He grabbed it, aimed it and fired – the noise deafening, causing his ears to ring – but causing the man's face to splatter, his decomposing body made a wet thump as it hit the floor – he aimed at the second, now only 5 feet from him and pulled the trigger – the shot clipped the man just above the ear. It didn't slow him, Jack aimed again and fired two more bullets – bang-bang, the bullets tore into the soft flesh of the eyes – a spray of thick maroon blood fell across the floor and then the second of the intruders fell to the floor. A few twitches later, neither of them moved again.
He turned to see a look of near mental breakdown on his wife's face. Her eyes as big as gold balls, her mouth was trembling as she tried to speak. "I know, I know – we gotta go." Jack said a little harsher than he would've liked – but he had no time to worry about that type of ****. He grabbed her jacket and the keys off the table, as they headed out of the house. The back yard, which had been a scene of happiness early that morning, was now a reminder of how quickly the whole world could be turned on its ear. Three more of the rotted men, the cannibals – **** it; the zombies were slowly making their way towards him and his family. They had to make it around the far side of the house to make it to the car. A hundred feet, maybe two hundred at the most – they had no time to waste.
"Come on." He grabbed for Summer's jacket again. She picked up Derrick, holding him tight in her arms as they jogged towards the end of the house. He slowed as they made it to the corner, he whipped around – aiming the gun ahead of him – and there stood Ben – Jack was caught off guard, he hesitated to pull the trigger for just a split second and Ben attacked, lunging at him - his lifeless eyes a haunting image. As they both slammed down in the snow, Jack's gun was knocked free – sending it sliding into the foot deep snow. He tried to reach for the gun, as he fended off Ben's jaws. The Ben he knew wasn't this strong; whatever had happened to him had changed him. He was losing ground – Ben was inching his gore filled jaws closer and closer to his neck. Seconds past by, Jack was unable to get any leverage – the cold snow on his back beginning to numb him. And then Ben set himself up to lunge again and...
BOOM! BOOM!
Two shots exploded from close range one connecting with Ben's temple, the other slamming into his shoulder – the first shot causing Ben to reel just enough – Jack seized the opportunity and pushed Ben off with his knees, sending Ben sprawling backwards. Ben slammed down on his back twitching as Jack hurried to his feet, looking over to see Summer's cold, red hands clutching the heavy steel of the 9mm. He now literally owed her his life. But there was no time to rejoice – the zombies that had been 50 feet away before had now halved the distance between them... and now there weren't three of them, there were five.
Jack reached out for the gun, Summer's shaking hands were all too happy to oblige. Jack motioned for her to hurry and follow him as he made it down the side of the house, Summer and Derrick just a step behind him. As he made it to the next corner, he wasn't about to step out Rambo-style – not after last time. He peaked around and saw the car, and saw a few of them – but if they hurried, they should be able to get in the car before the zombies could reach them. It was a risk, but it was there best option – they couldn't go back the way they came – not if they wanted to survive.
Jack again turned to speak to his young son. "Hey Der', you okay bud?" – He felt him over, other than a little blood splatter he was fine. He nodded in agreement. Jack ran his hand through Derrick's hair – poor kid, he didn't even get to open his last present. It was a weird thought, but it was a normal thought and normal was really what he was shooting for at the moment. "You ready? We're gonna need to run here in a second." It wasn't so much a question, as there was no real choice – but he had to ask anyway. He whispered "One, two … three" and then bolted out from the side of the house and towards the black SUV that sat in their driveway.
As they reached it, they frantically grabbed for the door handles. The doors swung open and they jumped in as fast they possibly could – but zombies were closing in on them much faster than he'd expected – he just hoped the windows would hold up – or they'd be goners. He jammed at the ignition with the key, his hands shaking causing him to miss a few times before finally, he felt it slide in and with a quick turn the large engine roared to life just as the first wave of dead men reached them. Slamming there rotted fists against the driver's side window. One of them trying to bite him through the glass, bits of flesh hanging from his mouth – as his blood stained fingers slid down the glass it left a horrible streak mark. Another slam, and this time the window began to crack. Jack clicked it into drive and punched the gas – sending the half-dozen or so zombies that were leaned against the truck slamming to the ground.
They peeled out of their driveway and onto Williams Road. Jack stared out the side window as he slowly drove down the street. The place looked like a war zone. He saw a dozen or so bodies – some partially devoured and some he doubted could ever be identified again. One of the houses he had first looked at when they'd moved to the city was on fire – the flames spreading towards the neighboring houses. He saw what he thought might have been a survivor – but he couldn't stop. He couldn't put his family in danger, not again. He couldn't believe it, what the hell had happened? Was it a terrorist attack? Had they used biological weapons? Where else had been hit? All these questions ran through his mind as he passed lifeless house after lifeless house. Would there be any answers? Was there anyone left? He guessed they'd find out soon enough.
The farther they got away from the house the worse things got... any hope they'd had was slowly beginning to run thin. Copyright 2008 Justin Carminati |
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