Dying In Love

Dying In Love

By: Jake Jollimore

         I felt so warm and content in my wife’s arms, it was the best I had felt in so long, with all of this hell going on. I pulled my head back to look into her face. She was gorgeous, her petit features and large eyes defined beauty. Now, as if she could hear my thoughts, she smiled at me and looked down, in a way that made me love her even more. She was so shy, and now the red in her cheeks highlighted her eyes, to the point where the blue almost glowed.

         I loved her so much, and nothing could ever change that.

         I moved her auburn hair to her cheek with my right hand and gently pulled her face toward mine, smiling at the thought of her lips on my own. When they finally touched, I heard an elastic snap from them, and felt pain worse than I could ever imagine.

         I pushed myself away from her, looking to her to understand this pain. I no longer saw that beautiful angel, but a disgusting monster, grey-skinned and rotten. I noticed something even stranger than this, though. It had three lips, one of which was mine, dangling from its hungry mouth.

         I heard myself moan in agony, and awoke, drenched in a chilling sweat. My heart raced, “Only a dream…” I huffed aloud. To my horror, another moan echoed throughout the grungy garage. I jumped up, fully clothed, and grabbed my machete and .45, attaching the sheath and holster to my belt. I gave myself a sharp slap to my face to see if I was still dreaming. Unfortunately, the slap hurt. Another moan sounded, this one a little more alert than the last, possibly from the clap I made against my cheek.

         Again and again it came, “UUUUUUUHHHGG. UUUUAAUGH” and I watched a shadow enter the room from around a concrete corner. The hobbling silhouette triggered an adrenaline rush and I ran for my bike.

         I jumped onto the leather seat from its rear, planting my hands on its back to do so. I twisted the key and gave it a little gas. The engine thundered, echoing nonstop from all directions in that fortified dump. I kept ‘er in neutral and walked it towards the corner, the shadow and the door. I had to make a forceful exit, these damned zombies almost always moved in mobs.

         “Hey!” I called out to the zombies, kind of a way for me to tell them to open the door for me. I could hear even more moans over the rumble of my motorbike, anxious to get to me. Hands began braking through the glass window of the front door. I kicked the bike into first and got ready, only about seven feet from the door now.

         The door finally caved in, a few zombies falling to the ground over the door and each other. This was my cue. I cranked the throttle and urged the bike backwards slightly, the front end lifted in response. I flew through and over these monsters now, crushing them beneath me and tackling them in front of me.

         Their rancid flesh adhered to my tires like slippery oil, my bike slid from underneath me, flying fifty feet into a brick building and sending me skidding down the street. I scrambled to my feet, and heard the roar of my engine stop.

         I began to close the distance between me and my bike, my machete now unsheathed and craving blood. One of these vile creature's hanging eyeballs fixed on me, just in time for it to see the shine of my blade reach for its throat. I sliced trough the decayed flesh and bone so easily, I watched the zombie’s head roll back and stop. It hung from a chunk of flesh on the back of its neck, looking behind itself now. There was no blood after the initial spray, because there was no heartbeat to force it out. The body took another few steps then collapsed in a stinking, twitching pile.

         I was almost there now, and a hand came at me from my left side. I thrust my machete in its direction, skewering the skull of its morbid master. I began to run again but the blade stuck, and when the body fell, my strong grip on the handle brought me down with it. I placed my left foot on this dead monster’s face, covering all that was to the right of his nose. With a quick jerk from my arm and a powerful kick from my leg, the blade was free. I was disgusted to see that it had decided not to leave all of the grey matter in its rightful place.

         I flicked the goo off of my blade with the back of my hand, and without releasing my grip on the machete, picked up my scratched bike. I turned the key again and the bike just whined. “Ack!” a frustrated grunt found its way out of my lungs and into the air. The bike was still in gear. I held the clutch and kicked the shifter down into neutral and tried again. The bike’s roar had returned.

         I sat on the bike now and fled down the street, just in time to feel disgusting fingers graze my back. Those things covered space a lot faster than I thought. I was lucky that time. I would have to be more careful in the future if I wanted a chance at finding Rhea, my wife.

         I decided to check the hospital again, maybe I missed her there.

         I drove and drove for what seemed like forever, seeing her in her blue scrubs in my head. A smile reached across her wonderfully beautiful face as she caught sight of me. I wanted so much to find her as she was when I last saw her.

         She was at the dinner table, having a coffee and toast. She loved to dip her toast in her coffee. I personally thought that soggy bread was one of the most awful things on the planet, but she liked it. I guess that’s all that mattered.

         I had just finished doing my hair, and I focused on her as I walked down the hallway, from the bathroom to the kitchen. I bent over and kissed her on the top of the head, while reaching for her coffee. I took a little sip, just to wet my mouth and said, “I should be home when you get back. You’re off at nine, right?”

         She nodded and smiled, “Yup, I’ll see you then.” She grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me down for a kiss. “I love you.” She smiled again, and I knew she meant it.

         “I love you too.” I tried to mimic her exact smile, it had seemed so sincere. I reached for my keys and slid them off the gold-painted hook on the wall, “Say hi to Dr. Marks for me would you?”

         "Okay”, she said as she watched me exit through the front door. I hopped on my bike and rode to the garage where I worked. The same garage I just fled from.

         I snapped from my remembrances and read the sign above me: Paxton City Hospital – 4 km. I was close now, and nervous, expecting the worst.

         I returned here hoping she never left work that day; it made sense, since the outbreak happened so quickly. It had now been two days since the dead began to walk.

         Finally I reached the hospital. I cruised through the parking lot, dodging the numerous hungry mobs like some nightmarish slalom. When I made it to the heavy metal door, I pulled it open and drove my bike into the lobby, locking the door behind me. I put out the kickstand and shut it off, then proceeded through the second set of doors.

         I didn’t like what I saw at this point: blood stains spotted the floor, drawing the outlines of the bodies that once laid there. But none were present. This meant that they were all up walking around somewhere.

         I took my .45 in hand; I think it was a better choice than the machete.

         So far, I had made my way towards her office without incident, lights flickering on and off all along the way. The soft blue of the walls that I liked so much was not a comfort to me now; I expected hordes of the undead beasts to flood the hallways from each and every door. Just paranoia I’m sure.

         I continued to walk, horrified that something would pop out from around a corner or charge at me from a door. I walked past a door that was open, just a tiny bit. Emanating from inside the room I heard a shuffle, and the door swung open slowly with an eerie creak.

         My horror was realized once again as I watched yet another silhouette step into the light, revealing its horrible contours and features. This one was another man, and I didn’t hesitate in raising my gun and pulling the trigger. Right between the eyes. The head snapped back and seemed to be the first part to hit the floor.

         I looked at this corpse, I don’t know why, but I wanted to imagine this face, alive and with expression. It seemed so familiar. I read the name tag on his blood spattered white jacket, it was Dr. Marks. I was shocked at first, but after being in a situation like this for a couple of days, you become quite desensitized.

         "Hi, Dr. Marks” I chuckled. I couldn’t believe I was making jokes about my deceased doctor in such an awful time as this. I shook my head and continued to walk. I finally reached her office door, and with a silent prayer I twisted the knob. The door resisted my push, there was something blocking it. I pushed harder, opening the door slowly. I could feel whatever it was in front of this door slip, then it was confirmed when I heard a ‘thud!’ I entered the room and looked at the blue heap on the ground.

         I looked closer and noticed that the blue was adorned with gorgeous auburn hair. I knelt down, I had found her. Her eyes were wide when I rolled her over, but then they became even wider and she released a hiss. I stood up and backed away, bumping into the wall behind me.
She slowly rose, in a way that reminded me of a slinky, and staggered towards me, eyes and mouth wider than I’d ever seen. Her face was hanging, like the meat had been sucked from under her skin. Her eyes were still the same, still a most beautiful blue, but they were sad now.

         I brought my gun up, and trembling, lined up the sight. My finger tensed… then released. I couldn’t do this. I still loved her too much.

         I dropped my weapon and slumped towards her, aware of her every action. I grabbed her, firmly and looked into her face. An empty perversion of what it had once been. Somewhere inside her though, I could still see my beloved Rhea. She convulsed and tried so hard to grab me, but she was no stronger in death than she was in life.

         I moved her hair out of her face and stared into her eyes, she didn’t look down. I knew I couldn’t live after seeing her like this, and I wanted nothing more than to be with her. I placed my hand on the back of her head, and embraced her in a dying hug.

         I allowed her sink her teeth into my neck, to make me like her, and be together always.

         I loved her so much, and nothing could ever change that.

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