Halloween Horror Themes 2013 - Zombie - 1. The Promise

The Promise

By W.L

Words began to form in my thoughts as I awoke, uncertain words:

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow

Where Am I? Who Am I? What is this…thing next to me? It feels warm, is that the word to describe this feeling? Yes, the thing feels warm. More words come to describe it: soft, tender, and love. I feel another thing rising in me, hunger. The hunger is focusing my attention on the warm thing. Wait, it’s called a “boy”. The “boy” next to me is starting to squirm; I can feel its soft skin rubbing against me. Light is coming through openings, high above me, I can see everything better now.

The fog in my mind is wearing off, I can name things now, if not precisely understand what they mean. We are in a Wal-Mart, which has lines of aisles full of wares, racks full of clothes, and things called electronics, which I implicitly know would not operate. I see lines of plastic tubes in the ceiling, which used to light the entire building, but they have been dim for years. I look for traces of “others”, not out of loneliness, but out of fear they will take the “boy”. I remember images of death, images of the dying, and images of the dead. I saw the dead rise from their lowly inert position and began their unstoppable rise to dominance. They cared not for warmth, nor love; all they desired was to nourish the hunger. They felt my hunger, too; they wanted the boy. Am I one of them, since I hold the hunger? Is that why he is sleeping next to me? Is he here to nourish my hunger? Yes, I want him; I want to feast upon him, I want to drink his blood, consume his flesh, and most of all…his brain!

As I wrap my arms around the “boy” in preparation to maul him, I hear words from within me, “Remember...”

Another line of prose comes to me from some distant place:

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

(***)

I remember a time of light before the darkness. I remember a time, when love mattered more than survival; when my world was not surrounded by walls of concrete, stone, and steel.

“For Christ sake, we’re going to be late for our own wedding, Josh,” Zack chided me as we raced toward our car.

I countered as I opened the driver’s door, “Hey, don’t blame me, it was your sister’s idea to do the joint bachelor party with the male strippers, you took as many shots off their chests as I did!”

Zack scrambled into the passenger seat with his bow-tie hanging unfastened. He pleads, “Josh, how are we going to get out of this one? We still smell like ash trays and Bourbon. The wedding is in 30 minutes and we haven’t finished my vows.”

I did not respond, instead focused on the road. When we reached the venue, there were only three cars present. We both were speechless at the lack of guests or party planners. Both of our gazes fell on the analog clock, which read correctly. Then we took out our cellphones and attempted to make calls with no response.

In disbelief, we got out of the car and walked towards the wedding site, which was nearly empty except for our parents and the official.

In unison we asked, “What the hell happened?”

Zack’s sister with blood draining quickly from her face answered, “The Wedding planners returned your deposit, the caterers were recalled, and everyone ran back home. It’s because of the outbreak...”

The memory flashed forward to the two of us disheveled and distraught in front of the wedding official. Another line of prose courses through my mind:

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

Zack stammered for a bit, “I…Zachary Miller w….want…Josh Parson to be my p…life partner for better or worse. Even if there is little hope left in this world, I promise him our love will always be true.”

I began reciting something, “I, Joshua Parsons, want Zachary Miller to lawfully be my life partner. No matter what obstacles, we may face in our lives; I promise to hold dear what he holds dear and defend our new family from all ills of man or nature for as long as I live.”

Another flash of memory, I was now in a small room with Zack. We are arguing.

Zack somberly said, “Don’t be difficult about this Josh. I love you and you know that, but mankind is facing utter extinction right now. We are some of the few unaffected males in the “safe zone”, who can still reproduce right now. You said in your report, under the current trend of human mortality and resurrection we will be extinct within a decade as a species. The dead already outnumber the living and we’re already forced to live in small confined communities as our final line of defense. There’s no cure to this zombie epidemic; only a good chance of extinction.”

I angrily retorted, “It doesn’t mean you have to go fuck someone behind my back. I am not angry you are doing this to save humanity, but you lied to me about it. Fuck, we’re partners. Why can’t you tell me stuff? It’s the end of the world and the guy I love can’t be honest with me?”

Zack scowled, “You don’t understand, you’re important. You are a doctor with skills that are practical for everyone. You had worked on sabbatical in African clinics and understand how to turn a bad situation into a workable one. Despite being gay, people don’t question why you are here safely behind the barb wires and gun posts. I am a Wal-Mart store manager with no real talents and I can’t even handle any basic tools. The council won’t even support an expedition out to my store for supplies, because 10 miles is too far and too dangerous according to them. You can see how useless everyone thinks I am. When we get our rations, they give me the smallest possible morsel. I didn’t like screwing the girls; it felt wrong on so many levels.. Yet, it gave me a purpose and made me feel like I had done something to earn my keep.”

I hugged him tightly, “You didn’t need to hide the way you felt or how shitty the world is. I see it in the face of everyone coming in and out of the clinic; I see it on the kids who have no parents, and I see it on the ones outside the barrier. No, all I care about is you and me, because at this point, we are all that really matters. I don’t care what they think, even if I have to give you my entire ration. I promise to love you and everything about you, no matter what. That has not changed and will never change.”

Another flash of memory, I was in the same room holding a toddler. The mood was more somber than before. Zack’s skin looked greener in color than his natural beige and his hair had begun to fall off, his blue eyes are lighter and bulging out, and several of his teeth are noticeably missing.

I stared at the floor, “We both tested positive. You’re a bit further than me. The virus has gotten into the “safe zone”, but not everyone has been infected, kids under the age of 7 seem to have developed an immune response to the virus. It will take time for the virus to work its way through an adult human body. Acetaminophen can slow it down to…”

Zack stopped me, “You should take Brandon and go. There are not enough cold pills in the place to hold us over. They already raided the clinic you set up; hoarding everything they found. Take our child and try to get to a better place. It might be a treacherous trip, but 10 miles down the highway is my Wal-Mart. When we heard about the virus spreading you know I had it locked down right after the wedding. The front and back entrances are protected by a barrier of steel and the only windows are 25 feet high. The place uses solar panels on the roof for power during the day, but since I locked up, only the refrigeration and meat locker were running. The meat and vegetables have gone bad after two years, but the dried food and water are still good. Plus, we had a full pharmacy and I bet you can figure a way to use the existing stuff. With luck, they couldn’t break through the reinforced steel barrier. The security code is a sequence of 6 numbers, our wedding anniversary.”

Beyond food or shelter, my thoughts were on him, “How about you? We can get there together, I still have my first aid kit and…”

He pulls out a handgun, “I am going to take the easy way out. I can feel the hunger, growing towards you and especially Brandon’s nubile innocent flesh. I am too far gone to be saved,” I tried to mutter out encouragement though no words came out as I too despaired at our chances.

As I tried to build my courage to respond, he brought out a gun to his head, “Goodbye, Josh, You were the love of my life. I hope we may see each other again…”

A loud roaring boom echoed through the room. Everything fell silent. Grief was overwhelming me, but I knew grief needed to be held back. I looked in Brandon’s beautiful face and made another promise:

“I promise to keep you safe, no matter what happens to me.”

(***)

As the memories flooded my mind, I began to recall the last line of that old poem:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

My thoughts began to focus on Brandon, the boy. He was no longer a toddler as in my memory; he had become a child. Brandon was now 6-7 years old and held strong resemblances to his biological father. I recall the arduous trip to Zack’s Wal-Mart, the many near misses and close calls. I remember it all now. Yet, the hunger is still there, I want to eat him, I want to rip him apart and I want to taste that juicy Brain.

Looking over at my stockpile of Acetaminophen, I realized I had forgotten to take my pill yesterday. It was our anniversary yesterday. I celebrated by drinking Tequila and downing Twinkies. I must reach out to grab the pills before I am too far gone, I must…

The hunger began to manifest even stronger than before, it was calling for me to succumb and join the world as it is now. In truth, I have nothing to live for, nor does Brandon. The world is filled with Zombies, the human population was down to a handful of small communities, which may or may not exist anymore. What can I offer Brandon? A ghostly store filled with paraphernalia of a world that is never coming back. Sure, he can have his pick of toys, clothes, even the latest electronics, but how about life? There are no friends, no sports teams, and no lovers anymore.

I can see an image of Zack standing before me, waving for us to join him in whatever paradise exists beyond this world of lost. The uncertain words of the queer poem are gone.

I began to pinch the boy’s little frame whispering, “It’s time for breakfast.”