An Undead Invasion

One - Part 1

Two babies, a girl and a boy of about the same age, sat on a linoleum coated floor, playing with blocks.

Will, the boy, was dressed in jeans and a yellow shirt with a smiling Tyrannosaurus rex on the front. His long strawberry blonde curls, the same shade as his sister's, hadn't ever been cut, even though they lingered close to his eyes and down to his shoulders. He didn't mind it at all.

Rose, the girl, had her dark hair pulled up into two thin pigtails, a brown tie in one, a blue tie in another. She was wearing a frilly neon pink and purple tutu and a bright green top with a pug on the front. She wasn't concerned in the least that her clothes didn't match.

All they knew, was that it was safe here and they had lots of blocks with curious shapes and colors drawn on them. They could sit there all day, curiously trying to make sense of the design, or simply putting them in tall stacks just to knock down again. They didn't have to worry about the monsters, because Will's sissy and Rose's mommy and daddy would keep them safe.

Neither of them heard the muffled commotion outside. They ignored the scratching sound at the doors.

But near them, sitting on the couch, Penny's ears perked at the sounds.

Damn, she thought. Not after all this time...

The stairs creaked as Howie came to the bottom. He stood there with his eyes wide a moment, then turned them to Penny.

"Penny," he said in a croaky whisper, "Penny, they've found us."

"I know, shhh," she said, going closer. "Wake the others."

He nodded and immediately dashed back upstairs, working hard to stay on tiptoes as he went. After six months in this infected world, he knew that if the clawing corpses couldn't hear him, their group stood a much better chance.

Penny glanced back at Will and Rose, obliviously playing in the next room. She felt a sting of sadness that they'd become so used to hearing the undead, that it didn't seem to frighten them anymore. Could they be so young that this horror became some sort of normal to them? Just like a baby being raised by goth parents, who didn't blink twice at bats or extremely pale faces with darkly lined eyes? Or like a baby being raised in an extremely religious home, that went to school and boasted openly of a man being hung and tortured on a cross with no terror in her voice for such a vicious assault?

At the same time, Penny was thankful for their silence, because she really needed them to keep calm until the undead or undeads left. At least she hoped they would leave. The only way they wouldn't is if-

Penny held her breath as though they might be able to hear her while she approached the door. She quietly slid the thick board they'd rigged on the door into its little metal slot they'd likewise installed. Double support. Then she leaned against it and peeked out the peep hole. Her heart sank. It was just what she feared.

Outside, a tall, black haired undead stood front and center, clawing and snarling at the door. He's had a snack already, she observed as he flashed his red stained teeth. His cheeks were sunken in, his pale eyes were popping, and Penny could see the deep bite on his bicep where his heavily stained shirt was torn. She could see the rose tattoo on his neck and the one on his collarbone that said Missy. There was no mistaken this new undead's identity. His name was Darwin, and he left three days ago to look for baby food.

Just then Missy came running down the stairs, much too loudly. Her dirty brown hair was in a messy bun, which was falling down from being tossed and turned on the pillow as she'd finally tried to get some much needed shut-eye.

"Is it..." Her voice trailed off, but Penny knew what she was asking. She looked into the woman's frantic, worried eyes. She nodded. "Noooo!" Missy cried.

Undead Darwin and his new clan of numerous undead pals went at the door wildly. All that racket she was making was one sure way to turn an undead into a Frenzy. Frenzies are the very active, desperate kind of undead. They're especially dangerous when they're relatively fresh and still have use of many of their muscles. They'll kill themselves trying to get to fresh meat if that's what it takes, and they can take a lot of damage. A lot.

What's worse, new undeads still have some of their brain activity. Memories. They can't really make sense of them, it seemed, but they sometimes used them. Just like Darwin was using them now. As Penny had feared, his memories led him here, just like she had seen new undeads driven to old habits before. Once, she'd seen a new undead from the group remove a cigarette from his pocket and put it in his mouth. He grabbed the lighter as well, but didn't know what to do with it. He wound up spitting out the cigarette soon enough to make room for a hopeful bite of healthy human.

Darwin, more desperate now, twisted the door knob and shoved. He knew they were in there. The others were just following the leader--who happens to be the freshest undead in any group. Thankfully the thick board on the door held up. Perhaps Darwin couldn't remember the board. If he had, maybe he'd have gone for a window. But he'd always used the door as a living person, and so here he was now, trying to claw his way in to his dear wife and sweet little girl...so he could devour them.

Penny was sad for Missy, sad for Darwin, and even sad for Rose, but she also wanted to live. She was glad that an older woman in the group, April,  descended the stairs and embraced Missy, because she was darn near close to punching her just to shut her up. Yes, her husband was gone and that was a tragedy, but the monster wearing his face was right out that door, ready to tear them apart and gobble them up. Here she was screaming, working him up, letting the other undeads in his wake know their leader led them straight. There are most definitely treats inside this house. Tasty, blood-filled candies trapped in a fragile piñata.

Will whimpered and then wailed. Howie ran for him, because he could tell from the look on Penny's face that now was not the time. Rose joined in and an older fella, April's husband Jerry, went for her.

Penny's blood boiled. "Get your shit together, Missy," she said in an angry whisper. "Think of Rose."

Missy stopped sobbing. Penny could see the cogs of recognition moving behind Missy's eyes. "My baby, oh, God." She took the toddler from Jerry, still crying, but silently.

Some of the wood frame around the door cracked. The little undead army outside howled, snarled, screeched.

"We have to get out of here," Jerry said to the small group of roughly twelve. "That bastards gonna knock the door in." Then he said what they all knew. "And he's not gonna stop until he does."