It was a hot day in August. Anders was in his bedroom, laying on his bed, reading a comic book. As he turned the pages, super-heroes fought the bad people and saved the good people. BANG! ZOOM! THWACK! Monsters terrorized towns and aliens just wanted to be friends.
Anders was sweating, even with the fan moving cold air coming down from the vents. He put down the comic and stared at a blank textured ceiling. He could see faces in the pits and swirls. Ugly faces with short stubby noses and evil turned up smiles. He took a big inhale and let out a gust of air behind loose lips, making them flap. Then, like a flash, an idea surfaced from the depths of his imagination (his Mom always said he has an over-active imagination). An idea so dangerous and incredible, he wasn’t quite sure if it was legal: I will go to the grocery store, alone! The thought forced a sharp sensation to climb out of his skull and shoot down his spine to his feet.
Anders stood up. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do next. Going to the store was always a child with parent thing. How does one even go to the store without parents? He had questions: will the store sell stuff to me? Do they take money? The grocery store wasn’t far. A mile maybe? How am I going to get there? And then, he caught a glimpse of his comic book. He saw a caped hero flying on a blue background, with his cape flowing behind him depicting movement. I wonder.
He stood tall and proud, the fan fluttering his clothes. He raised his arms. CRACK! The floor beneath his feet started to buckle and fold. Anders took off like a rocket, blasting through the roof flying straight towards the sun. He was flying. He looked down to see substantial roof damage. I should have used the door. As he climbed, the landscape was getting smaller and smaller and less detailed. Wide streets turned into thin lines that criss crossed rows of red and gray and green squares. Soon, he was surrounded by clouds. They felt cool and wet like morning fog. He stopped, hovered, and enjoyed the refreshing atmosphere. Looking down with laser vision he could see the grocery store. And prime rib for $9.99 a pound.
Lillian appeared in the door way. She wore shorts and a tee shirt with a bedazzled unicorn head stitched on it. “What are you doing?” She asked.
“Flying.” He responded. “Do you want to go to the grocery store with me?”
“Sure. Who’s going?”
“Just me. We can take our bikes.”
This idea caught her silly. Lillian has never gone anywhere alone. All her life, she went where parents went. Alone is not a thing yet. Is it? This thought made her uneasy. A drop of sweat appeared on her brow. And after some careful consideration, an equation appeared: bike+store+no parents=adventure. She made her decision. “I’ll go ask Mom if it’s okay.”
AWWWWW! Anders heard a scream coming from outside. He stood up, and looked out the window. He saw a crowd of people walking in strange patters. A few of them appeared injured but it was hard to tell. What the heck! Another scream. He saw it now. Across the street there was a woman on top of a car, turning in frantic circles. Anders reached for a pair of binoculars for a closer look. Zombies. Dead and expressionless faces. Aimless wondering. He recognized one of them. Two were on his front yard. It has begun.
Anders flipped his mattress onto the floor. Because tucked into the box spring was an armory. And he would finally get to use it. Anders packed his body with: an AR-15 assault rifle, two 9mm Glocks, a knife, and a holster with extra ammunition. His assault rifle was the best weapon for this kind of thing. The pistols are backups. And the knife was a backup to the backup. And it was good for cutting. After posing in the mirror, he ran out of his room and down the stairs.
Anders heard moans coming from outside. He found his family huddled together near the kitchen. Lillian, Mom, Dad and little brother. Protecting his family was the number one priority. Anders went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Calmly, he drank.
“Mom, I need the car.” Anders said. Mom said nothing. He rifled through the keys until he found the one he wanted. His body ached with anticipation and fumed with perspiration.
Mom watched Anders. But the fear crippled her voice. She wanted to talk to him. Tell him to stay. Tell him to stay with us. The dead things would eventually go away. And we have food. We can survive here.
From inside the house, the front door was made of wood with a half circle for a window. From the outside, the front door was a metal security door. It kept the bad things out. It had a pattern that allowed you to see out, but you can’t see in. Anders opened the wood door and stared as the zombies pawed and swayed side to side, moving their heads uncontrollably. As if trying to make sense of the world. The zombies looked like people. Some had boots on and some had dresses. But it was the blankness in their eyes; void of soul. Between moans they made rapid clicking sounds with their teeth. Like trying to eat. One of the zombies had fresh blood coming from its mouth. All of them had bite marks.
CRASH! A zombie was banging its head into the window. Anders snapped out of his trance. It was time to leave. His plan was to open the metal door, pushing the crowd of dead things out of the way, and at the same time, close the wood door. He pointed his AR-15 assault rifle to the floor and pulled back the charging handle. Loading a round into the chamber.
“Mom, I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?” Half joking. She didn’t respond.
“Mom, if you can hear me, I need you to lock the door behind me.” She lifted her head and nodded.
Anders unlocked the car and put his shoulder against the security door. He leaned and turned the knob. The door swung open under his weight and knocked the zombies back.
Inside, Mom locked the door. She pressed her forehead and open hand onto the door, closed her eyes, and prayed.
Anders opened fire on the zombies. Flesh and skull spewed everywhere. A piece of brain smacked the window and stuck to it like wet dough. Lillian screamed from inside. Anders opened the car door sat down. A zombie reached in after him. Anders slammed the car door on the zombies arm but the zombie continued to reach coming within inches of his face. Zombies began to surround the car and climb on the car as he tried to close the door again. With every attempt he could hear a crunching sound. Bones and tissue began to give after each slam and finally, the zombies arm lopped off and fell onto Anders lap. The arm wriggled and spat. Unfazed by the missing limb the zombie continued pursuit, spilling blood all over the window and door.
More zombies surrounded the vehicle. They climbed on the hood and pushed their dead faces into the windshield. Smearing blood and saliva. Anders turned on the wiper fluid attempting to clean the windows and possibly shoo away the zombies. But it only made it worse. It looked funny though. I need music. He started the engine, cranked on the radio, put the car in gear and hit the gas. The zombies held on as Anders drove down the street to the main road. Anders swerved attempting to shake off the zombies. But they wouldn’t come off. They stuck like food stuck to a frying pan. Then he realized they were stuck. They were cooking themselves on the blazing hot car. Smoke began to rise off the sizzling corpses. I have to get these things off. “Car… set course to the store.” Anders said.
“Which store?” the car responded over the blaring music.
“The grocery store!”
“The grocery store, got it. Auto-pilot initiated”
Anders let go of the steering wheel and the car came to life. He rolled down the window and climbed out. The zombies lips were flapping in the wind as they looked at a boy standing on the hood of a moving car. He aimed his rifle and opened fire.
Lillian came back to his room, and witnessed a boy with a toy gun, spitting while making shooting sound effects.
“What are you doing now?” She asked.
“Kill’n zombies.” He said. “What did mom say?”
“Mom said we can go. She said to put on sun screen and take her phone.”
Anders lifted his toy gun, chambered a round, and peered at his sister.
“Let’s do this.”
Author Site 