Dying Days: Origins Read online

The Rasta Dude was the guy who lived next door to them. They didn't know his name. He smiled at them whenever they passed in the hall or on the stairs, and he always slyly checked them out, but he never said a word. The guy across the hall - they called him Bald Guy - used to complain about the reggae music blasting and the smell of sweet leaf filling the hall. Tosha guessed Rasta Dude had gotten even.

  The other apartment on their floor was empty and had been for months, ever since the grow room was found. They didn't live in the nicest neighborhood, but the rent was cheap.

  The door to Bald Guy's apartment opened a crack.

  "Hello?" Tosha took a step to the door but it closed and they heard the lock and the deadbolt engage. Tosha gave the door the finger. "Let's go down. Gotta love these helpful neighbors. I guess Bald Guy got out of jail in time for the world to end."

  "The world isn't ending," Mathyu said and gave a halting laugh before dropping her smile. "Is it?"

  "I hope not." Tosha tapped the baseball bat. "We need to go downstairs and see the old lady with the radio."

  "If she has a radio."

  "Whatever." Tosha started walking down the steps and was glad her sister was doing a good job keeping the light over her shoulder so she could see. Without the hall lights, it was dark, and every step creaked like a gunshot. Tosha gripped the bat tightly in her hands, squeezing the wood.

  The second floor landing was quiet. They stopped and listened but no sound emanated from the four apartments on this level.

  "Do you know anyone that lives here?" Mathyu asked.

  "I think that Devil Beard dude lives on this floor."

  "No, he lives on the first floor, across from the old lady."

  "Shit. Then I don't."

  "Me neither." Mathyu shined the light down the stairs and they continued moving.

  Tosha got to the bottom and realized she was holding her breath, waiting for something to happen, but she didn't know what.

  "Hear that?" Mathyu asked.

  They stopped in front of the old ladies door. A static noise was coming from inside and the sister's smiled. "Told you," Tosha said. "Radio."

  Through the dirty frosted front doors, a shadow moved by slowly and both girls automatically ducked. When it passed, they stood and Tosha tapped lightly on the old woman's door.

  There was no answer, only the static.

  "Now what?" Mathyu asked. "Maybe she left the radio on but left."

  "Maybe." Tosha knocked again, a little harder. She didn't like being in the dark hallway and felt exposed. The front door, while closed, didn't have a working lock on it. Anyone coming by could easily get in.

  Tosha tried to turn the old woman's doorknob but it was locked, which she knew it would be. You never left a door unlocked in this part of town unless you were doing something illegal.

  "We should force it open," Mathyu said. "Ram it with your fat butt."

  Tosha smiled. "Idiot. I'm not going to break down her door. That's trespassing."

  "Good, then she'll call the cops and we'll have some police protection."

  Tosha hesitated. What if things were as bad as she thought they were? Would kicking down the door of a neighbor be right? Ever?

  Mathyu made the decision for her, with a swift kick to the thin wooden door. It pulled from the doorjamb with a crack that sounded like a shotgun blast in the silent hallway. It was still shut but just barely.

  Tosha laughed. She was usually - alright, always - the one making in-the-moment decisions like that. "Nice kick, Chuck Norris."

  "Well, thank you. I've been playing the Wii fighting games the last few days. That's my move in the kickboxing game."

  "Why do you play kickboxing?"

  "You never know when you need to kick down the door of an old lady, right? The training comes in handy. If I see Nazi soldiers, I think I can kill them from the top of the building. I'm set."

  "After you?" Tosha asked with a laugh.

  "Age before beauty," her sister said and pointed.

  "Whatever." Tosha hefted the baseball bat. "You ready?"

  "Born ready," Mathyu said with a smile.

  "Thank God you got all the fucking dork genes." Tosha pushed against the door with the baseball bat and it swung open. The cold hit them immediately. "It looks like she left the windows open."

  Tosha stepped into the living room. Both of the windows weren't just open, they were shattered, the frame of one a twisted piece on the floor. Someone broke in.

  The kitchen was empty but the bedroom and bathroom doors were all closed. It was the same setup as the girl's apartment.

  Tosha stepped into the hallway and held her breath, listening for tell-tale noises. She looked at her sister for some help but she just shrugged. Finally, Tosha decided to open the room on the left that was her room upstairs.

  It smelled like an old person lived here, she thought with a chuckle. Like mothballs, Ben Gay and Vicks. Through the gloom, Tosha could see the old furniture, the room neat and tidy. "She's not in here."

  Mathyu, over her shoulder, went to the other bedroom door. "Hello?"

  "Wait," Tosha said as her sister opened the door.

  The old woman, blood covering her upper body, fell onto Mathyu and drove her to the floor. She made no sound as she buried her face into Mathyu's shoulder.

  "Get the fuck off her," Tosha screamed and swung the baseball bat, connecting with the old woman's head. Mathyu buckled underneath her the blow was so hard.

  Tosha stepped to the other side of the two, spreading her feet and bending her legs slightly. She remembered being a tomboy as a kid and playing baseball and football with the boys in the neighborhood. She was one of the best hitters. She used the years and memories now as she connected with the side of the old woman's head, forcing her off of her sister.

  The old woman, eyes white and mouth foaming blood and spittle, rolled onto her side and clawed at Mathyu. Tosha's sister wasn't moving, blood pumping from her shoulder and neck.

  Tosha jumped onto the woman's back, the tight hallway keeping her from falling over. She used the close walls as leverage as she began jumping up and down on the old woman's back, kicking her in the head and pinning her to the floor.

  The old woman kept trying to move forward, never making a sound other than her ruined body dragging inch by inch.

  "Fuck me, die already!" Tosha screamed. She stepped back, behind her, and pummeled the old woman's head over and over with the baseball bat, coating the walls with blood and chunks of brain and skull.

  Tosha didn't know when the old woman finally stopped moving, but she didn't stop until her head was pulp. Tosha puked all over herself and the body, crying as she did.

  "Mathyu? Fuck. Sis, are you alright?" Tosha asked but knew the answer. She took her shirt off and wrapped it around her sister's neck to staunch the blood flow. "Say something, please. I love you. Please let me know you'll be alright."

  Tosha knew she was babbling.

  Mathyu blinked her eyes and her lips curled in a slight smile. "Any excuse to take your shirt off," she croaked.

  "Bitch." Tosha smiled warmly but knew her sister was going to die, and soon. "I need to move you."

  "You can't. I'm gone. I can feel it burning inside me. You need to kill me."

  "I'll get you to the hospital. You'll be fine."

  Mathyu clutched her sister's arm but the touch was weak, very light. "If you don't bash my brains in, I will come back and try to bite you."

  "No, that's stupid." Tosha looked at the old woman, who she'd inflicted such bodily harm to without any effect until she bashed her head in. "This isn't real. I'm asleep right now."

  "You're half naked and freezing in this shitty apartment. Please," Mathyu said and her eyes pleaded before rolling back into her head.

  "I'll get you to the hospital." Tosha lifted her sister and carried her into the building's hallway. She put her sister down gently in the old woman's doorway and reached to open the front door.

  "What the fuck are you doing?"

>   Tosha turned to see Rasta Dude one flight up, holding a fire axe.

  "I need to get her to the hospital before she dies."

  "She's already dead, and she'll turn soon enough. Get away from her."

  "Fuck you."

  Rasta Dude took three steps down. "Don't open the door. Look outside. The streets are filled with dead people. And they're all pretty pissed off and biting everyone. If you open the door, you'll kill us all."

  Tosha knew he was right, but she needed to save her sister before she died.

  Rasta Dude came down the rest of the steps and stood next to her, staring at Mathyu. As if reading her thoughts, he simply said "She's already dead. We need to move away from her before she rises."

  "Are you an expert on this shit? Are you some voodoo priest who has all the answers?"

  He laughed humorlessly. "I was born in Jamaica."

  Mathyu began to stir. He pushed Tosha away and hefted the axe. "Jamaica in Queens. New York."

  Tosha started to smile when she saw Mathyu try to get up, but she knew the look in her sister's eyes, the vacant stare, the blood no longer flowing and her mouth moving to bite.

  "I'll meet you upstairs," Tosha said quietly. She didn't want to be the one to do it. That was her sister. She wondered, if they were alone, whether or not she could chop her head off, or if she would let Mathyu bite her.

  She got to the second landing when she heard her sister's body hit the floor. Tosha passed out.

  Chapter Five: Me Against The World

  He was standing over her, holding out a can of Diet Pepsi.

  "What, you think I'm fat?" she asked, coming off the couch quickly. She was in his apartment. She scanned the room and was surprised to see the place was so nice. So different from her shabby apartment.

  He laughed. "I only have diet drinks. If I'd known dead people were going to start eating people, I would've stocked up on better snacks, a few bottles of Hennessy, ingredients for my amazing bean dip, and something mellow to burn."

  "Sounds good." Tosha was getting antsy and wanted to go find her sister… then she remembered what just happened. Before she broke down, she smiled at him. "I'm Tosha."

  "Tosha Shorb."

  She narrowed her eyes.

  He laughed. "I kept getting your mail when you first moved in. I'm Kevin, but friends call me Chico."

  "Why Chico?"

  "Don't I look like a Chico?"

  Tosha stared at the dark-skinned man with long brown dreadlocks tucked under a Rasta tam. His over-sized Bob Marley tie-dye finished the ensemble. "No, you look like Rasta Dude. That's what we always called you."

  He seemed to think about that for a minute before smiling. "I like that. I've been called much worse."

  "I've heard you talking, with a very thick Jamaican accent, to the landlord and Bald Guy across the hall. What's up with that?"

  He grinned. "See, mon, I's feelin' a bit o' the sweetest leaf known ter man, mon, and I's plays da part."

  "No idea what you just said."

  "Exactly."

  "I guess you put Bald Guy in jail last week?"

  "Nope. I actually had nothing to do with that asshole, but I was glad when they took him away in handcuffs. That dude was always complaining about the scent of me burning one but he was just mad because I didn't buy from him."

  Tosha laughed. "Seriously? What a hypocrite."

  "They took out sixteen plants he was growing in the spare bedroom. It looked and smelled pretty weak, too. Not like the stuff I get in Reading."

  "Used to get in Reading."

  He stopped smiling. "Yeah, true enough. I guess we need to figure out what we're going to do?"

  "We?" Tosha walked to the front door. "I'm going to hole up in my apartment, pretend my sister is still alive, and wait for this shit to blow over."

  "I think we need to come up with a better game plan than that, Red."

  "Red?"

  "Yeah. You have red hair and I would always call you Red to myself."

  "That's rude. I have a name."

  He grinned. "You call me Rasta Dude."

  "That's different. I'm allowed to do whatever I want. I'll see you around."

  "If you decide to leave, or just get bored, I'll be here. Knock three times, like our secret knock or something."

  Tosha nodded. "Will do." She opened the door but stopped. "Does Bald Guy know it wasn't you that called the cops?"

  "I doubt it. Why?"

  "Just be careful. With all this shit going down, he might seek some revenge on your black ass."

  Rasta Dude reached under the coffee table and pulled out a rifle. "This is the U.S. M1 Carbine, chambered for the .30 Carbine cartridges. Stoked with hollow point or soft point expanding bullets weighing 90-110 grains."

  "No idea what you just said," Tosha admitted.

  "Me neither. My old roommate, Lenny, used to show it off to the ladies whenever we had company. I heard him say that shit so many times it stuck, but I've never actually fired it. He forgot it when he moved out last year and I left it under the couch."

  "Is it loaded?"

  Rasta Dude shrugged. "I hope so. It's got bullets or ammo or whatever you call them in a box under there, too."

  "Great. I feel much safer. I'll see you later. I need to find warmer clothes."

  "I know something that will get you warm."

  Tosha laughed. "Nice try. Just because the world is ending doesn't mean I'm suddenly an easy fuck. See you around."

  Rasta Dude pulled out rolling papers from his pocket. "Suit yourself, Red. I'll burn one on my own."

  Tosha closed the door. If the world was coming to an end, she might as well have some fun before it did. "Move over, and keep your hands to yourself."

  Chapter Six: Shock

  Tosha could smell her sister rotting, even from her closed apartment. For two days, she'd kept busy, cleaning out the refrigerator before the food all spoiled, and finding every last blanket and thick piece of clothing in both her and Mathyu's closet.

  Since her sister was organized and her clothes were actually clean, Tosha now wore two pairs of her sweatpants and three pairs of socks with two long-sleeve shirts and her sweatshirt over them.

  There was a quiet three-knock at her door. Tosha undid the chain and let Rasta Dude in. "Any word?"

  He nodded and put two plastic grocery bags on her coffee table, looking around. "You actually cleaned up. Impressive."

  "I had to make the place presentable for my new guest." Because her apartment overlooked the main street and his overlooked a closed alley, they decided they would set up their base camp in her living room. "It was easier to stay busy cleaning than to see new footprints in front of the building."

  "Things are getting crazy out there."

  Tosha sat down on the couch and went through the bags, separating the canned goods from the bags of chips and candy. "What did you do, knock over a convenience store?"

  "Gas station on Williamson. This was all that was left, though. I went pretty far. People have looted everything. Like animals."

  "My sister is starting to smell," Tosha said as she took the canned items and put them in the cabinet. "We need to move her and the old woman before we attract more attention."

  "I think Kurt is dead, as well."

  "Who?"

  "He lives across the hall from the old lady on one."

  "Oh, you mean Devil Beard."

  Rasta Dude laughed. "I guess you have a nickname for everyone in the building?"

  "Everyone in Pennsylvania. Any noise from Bald Guy?"

  "Nothing." Rasta Dude went to the window and carefully pulled two blinds apart. "It's snowing again. It feels like a big snowstorm will be rolling in soon. It's too cold in here."

  "We can't build a fire."

  "Why not? If it drops below freezing again, we could die." He smiled. "Me being such a gentleman, I will once again offer to share body heat with you."

  "No thanks." Tosha smiled.

  "Is it because I'm black?" he
said in his fake accent.

  "Nope. It's because you're not my type, and I'm not going to fuck you."

  "Who said anything about making fucking? I was thinking about making love."

  Tosha laughed at him. "Making love? Who the fuck says that?" She put her hands up in the air and started gyrating her hips. "I'm talking about fucking, grinding against you as you grab my ass and squeeze."

  "Damn you." Rasta Dude walked to the door. "I'm going to get more of my things and bring them over."

  "You can move them into her room," Tosha said and stopped, plopping down on the chair. "Are we going to bring the furniture, too?"

  He shook his head. "I don't have much stuff worth moving, and I'd rather crash on your couch in case we're attacked or looters show up."

  "We're wasting time."

  "There's nowhere to go. Without any news, we'd be walking in a snowstorm, blindly, until we froze to death."

  Tosha stood up. "Duh."

  "What?"

  "We went into the old woman's apartment because she had a radio. We need to get it, and clean up the dead bodies as well. I don't know how you keep walking past them each day when you leave." Since her sister's death, Tosha had refused to venture out for supplies, using the excuse about getting the apartment organized for them. She didn't want to see her sister's mutilated corpse.

  "I'm afraid if I drag them into the street, it will attract more attention. And I can't move them alone."

  "Tomorrow I'll help you with them."

  "We need the radio and whatever else she has down there. Put on a pair of shoes, if you can fit those over fifteen pair of socks."

  "It's only three pair. I'll grab the bleach and garbage bags. And a bandana to cover my face. I think I have gloves here, too."

  "And a hat?"

  "Good thinking."

  "That was a joke," he said.

  "I don't want my hair getting in my face. I haven't washed it in too long and it gets all frizzy and unmanageable. On your next looting session, try to find me some shampoo."

  "Before all this, you ran out of shampoo?"

  "I have this cheap shit Mathyu keeps buying. I want real stuff, but we can never afford it. I let her handle the money things, since I'm so bad at it. She's the only reason the apartment looks halfway decent. She spent her mornings cleaning up after me so she could spend her afternoons on her computer, doing her job. Then she had her nights free to play stupid video games."