David Bernstein - Machines of the Dead

Upon reaching the top of the staircase, Jack heard the eerily familiar sound of fingernails on wood coming from behind 3R’s door. Images of his wife clawing at the bedroom door sprung into his mind.

Approaching the door, the scratching grew louder and Jack knew there was some thing on the other side. He tried the doorknob and found that it turned. He called Zaun over and together on the count of three, they rammed the door. The zombie fell back and landed on the floor. It was naked, bald on top with long dark, straw-like hair, and a large, bulbous nose. Zaun stepped up and put his sword into the thing’s head.

From inside, Jack heard the sound of chains rattling. He stepped passed Zaun. The sharp scent of pine filled his nose and he saw numerous green air-fresheners in the shape of Christmas trees hanging on the walls.

As the group moved forward, they came upon another dead body laying chest down, head to the side. It was female with long blonde hair, appearing to have been no older than eighteen. She was naked except for a pair of handcuffs on her outstretched wrists. A black tribal tattoo of the sun took up the area of skin just above her ass crack. All along the body’s arms and legs were small cuts, and what appeared to be burn marks, possibly made by cigarettes and a curling iron.

The rattling of chains hadn’t let up. Jack and the others moved forward, nearing the source of the sound. Coming upon a room on his left, Jack looked in to discover a bathroom where an undead female sat handcuffed to a radiator. Upon seeing Jack, the undead thing reached out for him, but the chains kept her in check. She had cuts and burn marks along her arms, legs and face, some oozing yellow puss. Her eyes were milky white, and her mouth opened and closed, biting at the air. She had long, bleached-blonde hair and was wearing a red satin bra with matching garter and panties. She looked to have been around the same age as the other dead female.

“Dude,” Zaun said.

“Guy must’ve kidnapped her. The girl in the hallway too. Abused the hell out of them.”

“Sick bastard,” Maria spat.

The zombie kept reaching for them, its lips pulled back, jaw opening and closing.

“I got it,” Zaun said.

“No,” Maria said, holding out her arm. “I want this one.”

Zaun looked at Maria as if she were crazy.

“Give her your sword,” Jack said.

Zaun removed the weapon and handed it to Maria. “Use the eye socket; blade goes in easiest that way. ”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” Maria assured him.

Jack and Zaun left the bathroom, leaving Maria to it. For some reason, she wanted to kill it and Jack wasn’t about to stop her or ask why. As they moved into the living room, he heard Maria grunt and could only imagine the blade sinking into the undead girl’s brain.

Maria exited the bathroom, and gave Zaun his weapon back.

“You cleaned the blade,” he said, surprised.

“I always return what I borrow in the condition it was given.”

They combed through the apartment, finding pornographic magazines, dildos in all varieties, whips and bondage equipment in the closet of the bedroom, and boxes upon boxes of DVDs and video cassette tapes, all with female names and dates on them. Jack found some as old as 1986. The sick fuck had been raping and torturing women for a very long time. No one wanted to see what was on the things; the guy was dead, the law could do nothing anymore. Once they got to a safe place, they could report the findings.

“I’m not staying here,” Maria said when they met up in the living room.

Jack nodded.

“This place is evil,” Zaun said. “Creep’s me the hell out.”

They left the apartment and went over to 3F. A thin metal ladder leading to the roof, stood in a small alcove to the left of the apartment. The apartment’s red door looked brand new, not a mark on it. Jack tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Three Mul-T-Lock locks took up the space above the handle. Running his fingers over the door, Jack felt cold steel, unlike the other apartments’ doors that were wood. He knocked, feeling the solidness of the steel, like banging on the vault at a bank.

“We aren’t getting in there,” he said.

“Wonder what’s inside,” Zaun said. “Why the security?” He kicked the door a few times, then shook his head. “Forget it.”

“So,” Jack said, “2F it is.”

They set up camp in 2F, pulling the mattress from the bedroom into the living room. Maria decided to take the first watch, telling the others how serving in the military had conditioned her to function in good form with little to no sleep.

The sun was shining brightly, its rays illuminating the room, filling it with warmth. She left the shades up in order to have a view of the outside, doubting the bright light would keep Jack or Zaun from falling asleep.

In the kitchen, she opened a can of beans and ate enough to satisfy her hunger, knowing that eating too much before going on watch, especially with no sleep, was a bad idea. A full belly often led to sluggish movements and the potential to nod off.

She pulled a chair over to the window and sat, looking out over the street and buildings across the way. The place was like a ghost town, unease settling into her. Off in the distance she saw gray smoke rising into the sky. She imagined there had to be a number of fires throughout the city and was glad that none seemed to be nearby. Candy bar wrappers and old newspapers tumbled by as gusts of wind pushed them around. She couldn’t get over the number of vehicles left in the street and parked along side it. It was hard to imagine anyone leaving their car, but such things, material things, proved meaningless in the grand scheme of things. Panic must have spread rapidly as people fled to safety, to loved ones.

And where were all the dead? Maria and the others were in Brooklyn, a borough consisting of over two million people.

Then, as if the cosmos had heard her, a lone zombie entered the scene. It was male, dressed in a dark gray business suit, walking very slowly down the street. Right behind it was another zombie, this one female, with long brown hair. It was wearing black spandex pants with an electric blue stripe running down the side and a matching top. The skin was flayed from its arms and legs, the face miraculously intact.

Looking at the male again, she saw something dangling from its waist to the ground and trailing behind it. Maria grimaced, realizing the object was the thing’s intestines. Other than that, it appeared fine, save the limp.

The female zombie was gaining on the male, walking almost twice as fast, still slow however. Maria watched as it drew closer, then stepped on the male’s intestines. The male zombie jerked to a stop, then fell forward to the pavement as the sausage-like organ snapped.

Maria turned away, disgusted. By the time she looked back, the male was up again, walking, the female slightly ahead of him.

During the first hour of her watch, Maria saw a total of fifteen undead walk by the building, the most gruesome being a female pulling herself along, having no lower half, and leaving pieces of its body behind.

During her second hour of guard duty, she grew tired, her head falling forward or back, jolting her awake. She pulled out a picture of her five-year-old daughter, Alexis, and stared at it, drawing the strength she needed. She imagined the day when she arrived back in North Carolina and could see her little girl again. Maria closed her eyes and felt her daughter’s soft skin on her own as she hugged her child. She heard Alexis’ cute laugh and tender, high-pitched voice. Opening her eyes, she stared at the picture. Her daughter had the most beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous smile.