Eight

Brooke sighed as she clicked the TV remote. Why couldn't she just find something mindless the three of them could watch, just to pass the time?

The doorbell rang.

Dalton sat up on the couch. “Pizza!”

“Stay put,” said Brooke, standing and setting the remote down. “I'll get it.”

She walked to the front door and opened it. A teenage boy stood there, holding a pizza box. His hat said Pizza Plaza.

“Hey,” said Brooke, unzipping her purse.

“Hi,” said the boy, looking up and down the street. “There something going on around here tonight?”

“Hmmm?” said Brooke, half-listening as she rooted around for cash.

“Got a lot of weirdos wandering around tonight,” said the boy, looking back at her.

“Who knows,” said Brooke, finding a twenty and looking back up at the boy. “Got too much on my mind tonight, watching these two.”

“Yeah.” The boy tried a little laugh. “Anyway, $18.50.”

And an old woman came up and bit the boy's neck. He gasped in surprise. Blood shot out of his throat and onto Brooke's shirt. Huge drops of it fell on the pizza box.

Brooke screamed and slammed the door.

Shock gave way to guilt and she opened the door to help.

“What's going on?” said Dalton behind her.

The boy was now being dragged down the street by two old ladies. The first one chewed on his neck as he struggled weakly. The second old lady grabbed one of his arms and brought his hand to her mouth. She bit into the top and tore off a huge flap of skin, exposing bone and muscle. The boy tried to scream and gargled in his own blood.

“Oh shit,” said Brooke, staring.

“Oooh,” said Maylee from across the room. “Big girl gets to cuss.”

“Shut the fuck up, Maylee,” said Brooke, shutting the door and locking it. She stepped away from the door, fishing into her purse for her cell phone. She had to call the cops.

“Nice,” said Maylee, getting up and stomping to the door. “Don't tell me what to do, bitch.”

She opened the door and screamed.

A man in a muddy suit grabbed her and pulled her out the door.

“Maylee!” yelled Dalton, racing outside.

“Damn it!” yelled Brooke, following.

Outside, Maylee was struggling with the man. He was trying to bite her but Maylee was barely holding him off. Two teenagers were approaching. One had half his face missing.

Dalton grabbed one of Maylee's shoulders. Brooke grabbed the other. The man pulled Maylee toward him. The teenagers drew near.

Maylee screamed and kicked the man in the face. He fell back and let go.

Dalton and Brooke pulled Maylee inside as the teenagers grabbed for them. Dalton shut the door and locked it.

“What the fuck!” shrieked Maylee.    

“Don't open the door!” said Brooke.

“No shit, really?” said Maylee, pacing. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don't know,” said Brooke, looking for her phone again.

Dalton was looking out the large front window. “They're eating the pizza guy.”

“You mean the pizza,” said Maylee.

“No,” said Brooke, “he means the pizza guy.”

Maylee went to the window and looked. “Oh shit.”

“The cops aren't answering,” said Brooke, holding her cell phone to her ear. “Why the hell aren't they answering?”

Maylee and Dalton turned to look at Brooke. Maylee walked over. “Let me try.”

“I know how to dial, Maylee,” said Brooke.

The window crashed in. Four arms grabbed Dalton and pulled him outside.

“Fuck!” yelled Maylee, running and jumping out the window.

“Damn it!” yelled Brooke. “I'm in charge here! Stay inside!”

She ran to the window. Maylee was pulling Dalton away from the two teenagers. Brooke climbed out to help. One of the old ladies, face covered in the pizza boy's blood, grabbed her.

The smell from the woman was awful. Her skin was clammy and cold. Brooke's grandfather had died two years ago. Brooke had touched him in the coffin. His skin then felt like the old woman's now. The woman hissed at her and leaned in to bite.

Maylee's foot slammed into the woman's head. The old woman fell over and Brooke scrambled away.

“Hitting them in the head seems to help,” said Maylee.

“Back in the house,” said Brooke. The old woman was getting up. The teenagers were closing in. The man with the muddy suit was coming up from one side.

She helped Dalton back in the window. Maylee climbed in and Brooke followed. The group of crazy attackers was approaching the window.

“We need to block the window,” said Maylee.

“Here,” said Brooke. “Help me.” She grabbed hold of the couch and pushed it toward the window. Maylee and Dalton joined her. The three of them tipped the couch up onto its side, against the window. The crazies outside pushed at it.

The three of them stepped back and looked at the couch. “That's not gonna hold long,” said Dalton.

The couch started falling forward. Brooke caught it. Maylee and Dalton each grabbed a side. Arms reached past the couch and grabbed at them. One of the arms was missing most of its flesh.

“This isn't working!” yelled Maylee.

“Shit!” said Brooke. “Run!”

They ran away from the couch, across the living room and into the hall. The couch thumped to the floor behind them.

“Get to the back door!” said Brooke.

“Wow, no shit?” said Maylee.

“Not now, Maylee!” yelled Brooke.

They ran into the kitchen. They stopped, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum.

A man in an old-fashioned suit was there, stumbling toward them. His skin was dry and taut against his skull. Thin white hair barely hung from his scalp.

Brooke blinked.

His eyes were gone.

He groaned at them.

Dalton screamed from behind Brooke. The back door that led out from the kitchen slammed open. A large woman missing an arm staggered in.

“Come on!” yelled Maylee from behind Brooke. “We can get out my bedroom window!”

Brooke shook her head clear.

“Yeah,” she said. The three of them ran from the kitchen.

They made it to Maylee's bedroom. Maylee climbed onto the bed and knelt by her window. She undid the lock and pushed the window up.

“Come on!” she said, looking back at Brooke and Dalton.

A withered hand reached inside and grabbed Maylee's hair.

“Maylee!” Dalton screamed and rushed to the bed. Brooke followed.

Dalton grabbed the arm and tugged. Brooke grabbed the arm and tried to push it out the window.

Maylee frantically tugged at the fingers in her hair. Brooke changed tactics and tried to help. She did her best to pull the fingers from Maylee's hair. Maylee grunted and squirmed. Brooke could hear panic in her voice.

Dalton yelled and leaned backward, pulling at the arm as hard as he could. With a sloppy tearing noise a huge sheet of skin came free of the arm. He screamed and dropped the skin.

The arm showed no reaction. It pulled Maylee toward the window.

Brooke let go and stood on the bed. She grabbed the window and slammed it down on the arm.

The arm didn't flinch.

“Shit,” she said, pulling the window back up.

The arm pulled Maylee closer to the window. Maylee screamed.

Brooke slammed the window down again. It bounced off the arm, snapping back up a few inches.

The arm kept pulling Maylee steadily toward the window. Maylee kicked at the bed, dragging dirt across the sheets.

“Goddamn it!” yelled Brooke, pulling the window up.

“Look out!” screamed Maylee, her head drawing near to the windowsill.

Brooke screamed and slammed the window down as hard as she could. It hit the arm on the wrist, inches away from Maylee's head.

The wrist snapped and the hand tore free. Maylee scrambled up and off the bed. She screamed with disgust as she pulled the hand out of her hair and dropped it.

“What the fuck!” she shrieked.

“There's no blood,” said Dalton.

Brooke and Maylee looked at the severed hand on the floor. There was no blood anywhere.

“What the fuck!” Maylee repeated. “Why the fuck isn't there any blood?”

Groans came from the living room and kitchen.

“Shit,” said Brooke. “We need to get to a room they can't get in.”

“The bathroom,” said Dalton. “There's no windows.”

Brooke nodded. “Hurry.”

She led them to the hallway. A crash came from the living room and they stopped to look. Three crazies were climbing over the fallen couch. A fourth was stepping onto the TV, which had apparently just fallen.

Groaning came from Brooke's side. Cold hands grabbed her and Dalton screamed. The eyeless man from the kitchen had her.

Brooke screamed and tried to push the man away. He clacked his rotten teeth together, inches away from biting her.

“Let her go!” yelled Dalton, kicking the man in the side.

Maylee ran back into her bedroom.

“Maylee!” yelled Brooke, struggling with the man. “We have to stay together!”

The four crazies in the living room were getting closer.

“Let her go!” Dalton repeated, kicking the man again.

Maylee ran back into the hallway, holding an aluminum baseball bat. Screeching, she brought the bat down on the man's head. The man's skull caved, crumpling his forehead into a frown. The man let go.

“See!” yelled Maylee. “The head!”

Brooke pushed the man back into the kitchen. She briefly noticed the woman missing an arm - the one who'd followed the man into the kitchen - was gone.

“Into the bathroom,” she said. “Hurry!”

They rushed further down the hallway, then banked left in the bathroom. Brooke turned, let Maylee and Dalton past her, and shut the door. Brooke's sweating hands fumbled as she pushed the handle in and turned it, locking the door.

Maylee sat back against the sink, clutching the bat. Dried skin caked the top of it. Dalton leaned against the toilet.

For a second they all stared at each other, panting.

Then the shower curtain collapsed at them. It draped Brooke, knocking her to the floor. Brooke felt the weight of a person atop her, writhing against the curtain that separated them. Groaning breath hit where the curtain stretched against Brooke's cheek. The breath smelled foul but had no heat. It was cold.

Brooke screamed and pushed up. A hand grabbed at her and teeth ground against the curtain.

Brooke heard Dalton and Maylee screaming. The person atop her shook as something repeatedly struck them. Maylee's bat, Brook realized.

“Where the hell did she come from?” yelled Maylee.

“I recognize her from the kitchen!” yelled Dalton. “She must have wandered to the bathroom while we were in your bedroom.”

“Get her off of me!” shrieked Brooke.

Brooke heard Maylee and Dalton scrambling to grab hold of the woman. A few seconds later, her weight shifted upward.

Brooke scrambled out from under the curtain. Her attacker, the large woman missing an arm, was struggling in Dalton's and Maylee's grip. She bit at all three of them, missing but coming close.

“Open the door!” yelled Maylee.

“Are you crazy?” said Brooke, panting. “They're out there...”

“We can't keep her in here!” yelled Maylee.

Brooke swallowed. Maylee was right.

Brooke turned, braced herself, and unlocked the door.

She opened it. The eyeless man stood there, reaching for them. Other crazies reached around the door frame.

“Duck!” yelled Maylee.

Brooke did.

Maylee and Dalton shoved the lady forward. She stumbled, tripped over Brooke and fell out the door. She knocked the eyeless man over and they both fell into the hallway.

Brooke stood and slammed the door. She locked it as fast as her shaking hands would allow.

“Shit,” said Maylee.

“Is everyone okay?” said Brooke. She turned to put her back to the door. Groaning and scratching came from the other side.

Dalton and Maylee nodded.

Brooke nodded in reply and slid down to sit on the floor. She put one foot against the side of the toilet, bracing the door with her body.

“What do we do now?” said Dalton.

“Now,” said Brooke, fishing around in her pockets. “We call the cops again.”

Dalton nodded. Brooke felt in her pockets more frantically, panic growing. “My phone.”

“What?” said Maylee.

Brooke sighed and put her forehead in her palms. “My cell phone. I must have dropped it in the living room.”

Maylee and Dalton stared at her.

Dalton swallowed. “And the house phone is in the kitchen.”

Brooke nodded and sighed, looking around the windowless room.

“Shit.”

And groaning and scratching came from behind the one and only door.