Welcome to the free blog version of Robert R Best's zombie novel Lakewood Memorial. A new chapter will be posted every week. Find prior chapters in the archive to the right. Subscribe for the latest. Enjoy!

Monday, August 6, 2012

Thirteen


“Are you sure about this?” said Maylee, peering through the hole in the floor. “I can't see jack or squat down there.”
“I'll be fine,” said Dalton, standing impatiently next to her. “I'll be able to find my way to the door.”
“And then you run to a neighbor's,” said Brooke, next to the sink.
“Are you crazy?” said Dalton, looking at Brooke. “You saw it out there. The neighbor's won't be any safer.”
“I just don't like this,” Brooke said.
“Me either,” said Maylee. “But he's the only one who would even sort of fit.”
“And there's an old ladder down there,” said Dalton. “I'll get the phone, sneak back up here, then we can call Mom.”
“And the cops,” said Brooke.
“Shit, the army,” said Maylee.
Brooke sighed. “Okay. We'll bang on the door and keep them all distracted. You get into the kitchen, get the phone, then get back up here.”
Dalton nodded and smiled.
“What're you so happy about?” said Maylee.
“You guys are doing my idea.”
“Whoopie-doo,” said Maylee, smirking. “Get in the hole.”
Dalton stepped over to the hole grinning.
A woman outside the door groaned, loud and gurgling on some kind of fluid. Blood, Maylee figured. Maybe bile. It sent a cold spasm up Maylee's back.
Both she and Dalton stopped smiling.
“Let's go,” said Brooke. “And please, be careful.”
Dalton sat next to the hole and put both legs down it.
The scratching outside the door grew louder. Maylee looked at the door and frowned. “Are there more of them now?”
“God, I hope not,” said Brooke.
Dalton put his palms on the floor and eased himself down into the hole. He got to just above his waist and stopped.
“Uh-oh,” he said.
“Uh-oh what?” said Maylee.
“I can't get past here,” said Dalton.
“What?” said Maylee.
“Oh crap,” said Dalton. “I can't go up, either. I'm stuck.”
The groaning from outside grew louder.
“Ok, wait,” said Brooke, stepping up. “Don't panic.”
“Crap,” said Dalton, looking around. “Where's the groaning coming from?”
“Outside,” said Maylee, grabbing hold of Dalton's arm. “Same as before.”
“You sure it's not from under me?” said Dalton, real panic creeping into his eyes. “Oh god, I gotta get out of here.”
Loud moans came from behind the door.
“I can hear them down there!” yelled Dalton, struggling.
“They're outside,” said Brooke. “Just hang on.”
Maylee pulled. Dalton wouldn't budge.
“Ow!” yelled Dalton.
“Shit!” yelled Maylee, letting go. “What happened?”
“You hurt my arm,” said Dalton, rubbing it.
Maylee sighed. “Damn it, I thought something bit you, you little shit!” She balled up a fist and bopped Dalton on the top of the head.
There was a “pop” and Dalton slid further down the hole.
All three of them screamed.
“What the hell happened?” yelled Dalton.
Maylee noticed a small shirt button at the corner of the room and let out a sigh. “It's okay. It was just a button coming off your shirt.”
“Oh,” said Dalton, “Okay. Then...”
And with a fast series of “pops” Dalton slid the rest of the way down the hole. Dalton's chin smacked the side of the hole on the way down.
“Dalton!” yelled Maylee as he vanished from view. A crumpled “whump” came from under the room.
Maylee dropped to her knees and looked through the hole. In the small rectangle of light the hole provided, she could see Dalton's head. He was on his back, facing the ceiling. His eyes were shut.
“Dalton!” yelled Maylee.
Dalton didn't move.
Groaning and scratching came from outside the door.

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