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1
GRIFFIN
The decaying heart of the city has never been forgiving, even less so since the dead rose two hundred and sixty-five days ago. I’ve been keeping track.
Since then, it’s been the same old story. The dead rise, three friends find each other after going through terrors that they won’t speak of, and—the sound of smacking gum has me turning around and eyeing down the two dicks I call my best friends. Max catches my glare and grins at me before continuing to loudly chew his gum.
“Are you trying to attract the dead?”
A gleam shines in his eyes and I realize how stupid my question was, knowing him. “How much more fun would that be? Fighting our way through a horde of rotters in the heart of the city. We’ll end up in history books.”
“Hate to break it to you, but history books aren’t a thing anymore. No one’s around to update them, anyway,” William whispers from the shadows, making Max pout.
It didn’t take long after the dead rose before people realized they’re attracted to sound and repelled by fire. Which is why so many towns, cities, buildings, and forests burned to the ground. Survivors tried to herd all the rotters into one place to rid the world of them. Unfortunately, they could never retain control of the fires. Amateurs.
This city is one of the few still standing. Well, the buildings are. Mostly.
Cities like this are the most dangerous. They’re crawling with more rotters than could be manageable. If someone were to get the attention of even one of them, it would turn into a tidal wave of decaying, writhing bodies with snapping teeth, desperate to feed on flesh and spread the virus. Therefore, most places like these have remained untouched the last two-hundred-something days. It’s best left that way. Leave the rotters here to rot.
In the beginning, there were games. People competed to see who could gather the most supplies without getting bit. Those people aren’t around anymore. Well, some are, but as rotters themselves. Max’s only regret is that he didn’t get a chance to play.
“You’re insane,” I mumble.
Max grins, showing the gum firmly clenched between his teeth at the side of his mouth. “Thanks for the compliment.”
I hold out my knife; the tip pointing toward him in a faux threat, though I’m serious. “Don’t get us killed.”
William, looking annoyed at Max’s newest antics, elbows him in the ribs to get him to react. Max fake pouts, then swallows the gum and holds his arm out in front of us for me to go ahead. “Age before beauty.” Keeping my mouth shut, I face forward again and continue leading the way through the shattered streets. My eyes never stop scanning for threats. There are rotters all over the place. They’re standing still, lying on the ground, or snacking on a bird that made the mistake of landing here. As long as we’re quiet, they won’t sense us.
Metal clangs behind me and I turn around to scowl at Max, but it’s William who’s staring at the can on the ground by his foot, a panicked expression on his face.
“Get inside,” I order through gritted teeth. Max looks disappointed that we’re not using this opportunity for a playground with the dead, and that scares me. He wasn’t this reckless before the dead rose. I’m actually surprised he’s survived this long, but someone with the weapons skills that he has won’t be easy to kill. Good thing, because I only have these two people left in the world who I can trust with my life. Even if one of them is a little unhinged and gets under my skin.
We get inside the mall that’s the object of our scavenging mission and take the stairs to the second floor. There’s never anything on the ground level of buildings anymore. The higher up we go, the better our chance is of finding something useful. Maybe food, maybe clothing, hell, maybe even a damn book to help pass the time.
The groans from the rotters disappear the farther away we get. “Our time here is limited now that we’ve gotten their attention.” I keep my voice low as my two friends practically strain to hear me. “We need to find whatever is useful and get the hell out.”
“Sweeeeeet,” Max whisper-yells before breaking the lock on a glass case that contains various weapons, shattering the case. “My bad.”
A low moan sounds from behind him and I move forward but he winks at me, pulls a morning star from the pile of broken glass, and swings it around, landing the spiked ball at the end of it right through the skull of the dead man about to grab him. The rotter drops to the ground, officially dead now, and Max yanks the weapon from his skull with a sickening pop.
Max raises the morning star into the air to inspect it, though we really can’t see much in this dim light. “That was epic. I think I’m going to call you Debbie.”
“If I hear one more sound, I’ll take off your head myself,” I warn him.
He pushes his shoulders back in a challenge, but before he can do much else, music—actual music that I haven’t heard in months—blares through the air. I nearly fall back from the shock of it. I think I’d even forgotten what actual music used to sound like. It’s loud, blaring, with a strong beat and a woman singing.
Max holds up his hands with his newly acquired weapon. “Wasn’t me.”
William is already out of the little shop. He only stops long enough to kill the nearest rotter on his way to the railing that overlooks the center of the mall. I’m a step behind, and I have to blink a few times at the sight I see when I reach the railing and look down below.
This mall is large, several stories high. It used to be bustling with life less than a year ago—I assume, like most shopping areas in most cities were—but the building careened downhill when the dead rose. It didn’t turn to ash in a fire like most others, but the walls crumbled from cars, weapons, even the occasional grenade. News stations covered the chaos and carnage before they all went under.
Weeds and vines grow through the cracks in the tiles and along the walls. Mystery substances coat a lot of visible surfaces. Even with all of that, I still never expected to see a car parked in the center of the wide open lower level. Lights shining, music blaring through the rolled down windows and open car doors, and a woman dancing away from the commotion. Her long brown hair swirls around in the air as she spins, her hips swaying, dancing to the music and killing any rotter that gets too close with a long spear. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
The music is a stark contrast to the surrounding desolation. She moves with a grace and ferocity that has Max gripping the railing with one hand, and his pants with the other, a star-struck grin on his face. She shoves the spear through the skull of another rotter and pulls it free before spinning twice on her heels again and continuing her death dance. I know little about dance moves, but I think she even does one of those fancy pirouette things I used to see in movies back when movies existed. Her movements are almost…joyful.
She’s pretty. She’s skilled. She’s going to get us all killed.
