Tim Meyer - Less Than Human

“You disrespectful little sh—” John started to say, but another hacking fit interrupted him. The bundle of coughs was more throaty than the previous ones. John hunched over and retched blood onto the concrete, which alarmed everyone, bringing them to their feet. A wave of gasps circled the basement.

“You okay?” Ben asked.

More blood splashed onto the concrete.

“Fine,” he said hoarsely. “I can feel it coursing through me. The sickness. Whatever we’re infected with.”

At first, Ben didn’t understand. Then, John rolled his pant leg. A good-size chunk of his leg was missing, about enough to fill the average mouth. Ben recognized the teeth marks around the hole that exposed bone. The skin around the wound had purpled, almost blackened. The smell that emanated from the chewed orifice was nauseating. Body odor and urine were no longer the dominant aromas. The stench overpowered the other disgusting smells that wafted around the basement. Ben tried to cover his nose with his arm, but it did nothing to block the putrid stink. Josh grimaced while Victoria heaved air. Emily quickly pinched her nostrils with her fingers. Brittany buried her nose in her arm.

Ross closed his eyes, wishing he were somewhere else.

“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered, turning his head.

Tabby held her silent son close, fearing what was going to happen next. The poor kid trembled in her arms.

“I’m turning into one of them,” John said.

Ben shook his head, pressing his back against the cage. He realized John would come after him once the sickness ran its course. And he wouldn’t stop until he he had Ben’s flesh between his teeth.

Jake… Ben thought. His heart sank into his bowels when John Vander opened his mouth to speak and froze, staying that way until his body reanimated.

TWO DAYS AGO…

It felt like the morning after a night of binge drinking and popping Xanax. The world around him blurred, slowly reshaping reality. When things focused, he found himself in the passenger’s seat of a car—perhaps the one that had bowled into him. He wasn’t sure. A fog enveloped his sense of clarity. The whole thing played out like a terrible dream. There was his mother. Then the zombies. Running and screaming. Mass hysteria. The little girl in the woods. The road, the car—

Josh tried to rise from his slumped position, but pain exploded into his shoulder. He cried out while returning to his original posture.

“Don’t try to move,” the driver said. “Keep your head down.”

Josh couldn’t see out of the window. He tried to peek, but the slightest movement sent waves of anguish throughout the upper half of his body. “What’s going out there?” he asked. Inhuman sounds coming from outside of the car pricked the hairs on his neck. Beneath the bestial groans was a woman’s final cry for help. A man followed shortly after, protesting his own demise. “Hey, what’s going—”

“Sssh,” the driver said. “Be quiet.”

Josh grumbled, “Dude, did you hit me?”

“Yes,” the driver said. “You came out of the woods. Fast. Couldn’t stop.”

Under normal circumstances, Josh would’ve berated the unkempt man. Threatened him. Possibly instigated a fight. He definitely would have cursed the guy out, called him an asshole and told him he should have watched where the fuck he was going, even if it was his own damn fault for running out in the middle of the road. But these were not normal circumstances.

Josh sighed heavily. “Don’t worry about it. I should’ve looked before I ran out.” He shook his head. “Stupid,” he muttered silently. “I’m Josh, by the way. Josh Emberson.”

“Ben Ackerman.”

“Nice to meet you, Ben—”

“Shit!” Ben yelled, and cut the wheel hard.

The car spun three times, finally coming to a screeching halt. Bodies of the dead filled the windows. Josh cowered, shrinking in his seat, watching the faces of the living dead appear around them. Bloody spittle flew from their mouths as they pounded on the glass, trying to smash their way in. They gnashed their ravenous teeth together, the life in their eyes stolen by mindless hunger. Josh studied their faces, void of human attributes. They were monsters, nothing more, nothing less.

Ben pressed the pedal to the floor and cut the wheel, shaking off a few zombies, but not enough. He could barely see beyond the windshield. He glanced back in his rear-view mirror and saw nothing but open road. He slammed on the brakes, dislodging a few more. Josh saw them tumble awkwardly to the pavement. As Ben spun the wheel, Josh clung onto the “oh-shit bar” tightly. The Hyundai one-eightied in the middle of the road, and Ben sped off in reverse.

“What are you doing?” Josh asked.

“I can see better like this.”

Josh glared at the dead folk crowding the front windshield. He closed his eyes, wishing he never left his bed that morning.

Ben cut the wheel once again, without warning. The remaining stragglers lost their grip, were tossed to the road like garbage. Ben stomped on the gas pedal. The car zipped down the street, free from the departed.

Ben pulled over on the empty highway, taking in deep breaths of air. Signs of tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. Josh was certain he wouldn’t be able to hold them much longer. The levee would break momentarily.

“You okay, man?” Josh asked.

Ben shook his head.

“It’s okay if you cry, man. I won’t think you’re a pussy or anything.”

Ben chuckled softly. Josh was glad he had kept some humor under grim circumstances. He suspected Ben was the laid-back type, someone who didn’t get angry very often.

The vague grin on Ben’s face quickly retired. His eyes leaked down his cheeks.

“We were in my parents’ neighborhood. I thought that…” Ben trailed off.

“What happened?”

“They’re everywhere, Josh. I mean, everywhere . Major highways are flooded with them. Suburban developments are overrun. I don’t want to even think about the cities.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Josh said. He thought about mentioning how he watched his mother become torn apart like wet tissue paper, but decided against it. It was Ben’s time to mourn, and he respected that. Besides, reality had yet to hit him. With the exception of his broken arm, he felt fine, unaffected by the day’s events. Am I that cold? Josh thought. He thought he’d feel something. Sadness. Despair. Hopelessness. But he didn’t feel any of those things. Instead he felt normal. Like nothing traumatizing had happened at all. It’ll hit me later, he thought, feeling better coming to this conclusion.

Minutes passed before either of them spoke again. Ben sniffled, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying his best not to burst into tears. Josh watched the grown man try to compose himself with great difficulty.

Ben wiped the tears away from his eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“I understand.” Josh fought his way through the pain. He inched his way up in the seat, sitting up, staring out the front windshield. Never had he experienced that kind of pain before. He had never broken a single bone in his body, which surprised him due to the countless hours he spent doing asinine stunts on his skateboard when he was younger. The pain seared through him, as if knives were being driven through his arm, poking the bone. He remained silent, but inside he was screaming. His eyes welled, but no tears breached the surface.

“You shouldn’t move around a lot,” Ben told him. “I’m pretty sure your arm is broken.”

“Yeah, I’d have to agree with you there,” Josh said. “Where the hell are we?”

Ahead was a long stretch of highway, vaguely reminiscent to the one Josh had been on when Ben came along. A vast, endless forest lay on both sides of them. Dusk was starting to settle. To the right, just over the branches, orange smears of sunlight were being absorbed by a bruised sky. To the left of them lay darkness.