Nzambi of the Dead Part 1b
Nzambi of the Dead
Part OneDay 120 (continued)
Footsteps echoed up the long winding stairway, bouncing off the blank walls and making them sound dangerously closer. Arthur gripped Morgana’s hand harder and climbed the last steps to the fifth floor. He pushed her past the door jabbed open, handed her the bad he had been carrying, and kicked the door stopper with his shoe, the door slammed close behind him with a heavy moan. Morgana looked behind her, her long raven hair bouncing against her back, her eyes wet with tears and her face filled with pure dread.
“Keep moving,” He yelled, struggling to hide the fear in his own voice. “I’m right behind you.”
The door swung open once more as their pursuers caught up to them. He paused for a moment, turning to face the zombie closest to him and tossed his knife right into his forehead. The zombie dropped to the ground with a thump and lay motionless, until its body jerked in various directions as it was trampled by the rest of the zombies behind it.
Arthur turned around and ran at a faster pace, the snarling of hungry teeth right on his heels. He reached the end of the corridor and rushed through the last door, leaning his body on it as Morgana slipped the locks in place. Arthur exchanged glances of relief with his sister and slipped the metal bar into place, securing their last attempt at security. They were safe now; it had been a close call.
“Arthur, we can’t stay here much longer. We have to keep moving.” Morgana said as she let the bag drop to the floor and moved to the kitchen in the one room apartment. She reached for a wet towel and wiped off the trains of blood on her face and arms, blood that had once belonged to a friend who was now banging outside their door.
“I know, Morgana.” Arthur looked up at the huge writing on the wall on the far side of the room, near the fire escape, and rested his head on the door, the wood doing little to comfort his heavy heart.
His eyes trailed back to the writing, “No one left…M.” The single letter at the bottom right threatened to uproot dangerous feelings he had tried to ignore these past four months. Arthur moved towards the words of warning and ran his hand over the letter, tracing it with great care. His fingers shook as they reached the end of it. Why did things have to keep getting worse? Why couldn’t they catch a break? He asked himself, hoping the answer was out there in more than just short messages written on walls, city signs, or back of car windows.
“Arthur, we can’t keep looking for him.” Morgana tried to reason with her brother, she was tired of putting herself in danger for the sake of her brother’s lover. “Maybe he already reached the Haven, you know the last time we heard a broadcast, it was still not overrun by zombies.”
For all they knew he was already a zombie and had been offed by some random survivor, but she wasn’t about to tell her brother that, even if her own heart hoped that was the case. Morgana tossed the blood stained towel into the trash and started to gather her belongings. She glanced at the bathroom and decided she could pack after she had washed off every inch of gunk still on her, who knew when she would have a chance to shower again.
“I am going to wash off.” Morgana shot over her shoulder as she slipped her shoes off and walked barefoot into the bathroom. She refused to accept that the only reason they were still alive this far was because of the owner of those stupid messages her brother kept following.
The door slammed close and Arthur was left alone with his thoughts. A lovely set of blue eyes, a tone darker than his own, stared back at him from behind his closed eyes. He concentrated on remembering the sheepish smile that had always made his heart skip a beat and the unruly raven hair that his fingers always ended up losing themselves in. He banged his fist against the wallpaper covered wall, cursing under his breath.
Moving to one of the twin beds he started packing, shoving his belongings into the luggage in a blur of rage. “Dammit,” He cursed out loud, this time unable to hold it in.
“Why did he have to stay behind?” He asked himself and the empty room.
He tossed a shirt to the floor, the one he had gotten only five months ago before the incident that had turned most of the population into rotting flesh. The day he had received the shirt was still so clear in his mind, like it had only happened the day before. He sat on the bed, his eyes never leaving the shirt and the conversation started to fill his mind.
“Of all the things you could get me, you got me a cheaply made shirt?” Arthur whined as he held the shirt up to his bare chest, the rough material rubbing against his smooth skin.
“Well you are rich, so you already got everything except THIS cheaply made shirt.” The sheepish grin appeared again before ducking away from a flying pillow.
“Now you’re just trying to sound cocky. No one likes a smart-ass.” Arthur tossed back, picking up another pillow to toss at his lover.
“No, that is YOUR job and you know you love me.” The smile turned into a full-fledged grin.
Morgana stepped back into the room, hair up in a knot, droplets of water clinging to the back of her neck and forehead. “I’m done Arthur, you can use it though it seems like there might not be a lot of water left.” She told her brother quickly making her way to her bed and her belongings.
“Arthur…” She called out again when her brother didn’t reply.
“Uh, yeah thanks.” Arthur managed to say as he shook his head of the painful past and reached for the shirt on the ground. He got a few more things he needed and headed for the bathroom.
Morgana finished her packing and lay on her bed to rest. A picture frame sticking out of her brother’s bag caught her interest. She moved to his bed and reached it, quickly regretting having picked it up. A blonde set of hair next to a set the same color as hers met her gaze. Her blank face quickly turned sour and her hands gripped the frame so tightly shattering the glass in a corner. A shuffling in the bathroom snapped her back into action and she shoved the frame deeper into the bag. She slid across the bed to her own just as the bathroom door opened and pretended to be asleep, her back to her brother.
Bare feet quickly walked across the room. “Morgana, did you break my frame?” Arthur asked taking the broken frame out of his bag to get a clean pair of socks.
“Hmmm… what was that?” Morgana acted, yawning and turning to face Arthur, stretching her arms above her head.
“Nothing,” Arthur added taking the picture out and laying the frame on the bedside table, no longer of any importance. “Let’s rest and leave in a few hours, it is still very early in the morning.” He folded the picture in half and stuck it between the bottom panel of his bag and his pants.
Setting the bag at the foot of his bed, Arthur laid down running his hand over the rough fabric of the shirt and went to sleep. The course of the past few days had worn him out and though he didn’t long for sleep he quickly found it. Morgana stared at the bag for a moment and then at the wet locks of her brother. She turned back and decided that she too would give in to sleep after all. They would have to leave the city and head to the Haven. It would take them around five days to get there and that was quite a lot of mileage to cover.
The hours passed faster than normal, and Arthur and Morgana found themselves rushing to get moving. They shoved their luggage out the fire escape, having overslept by four hours left them with only half a day before night fall. One final sweep of the room and they joined their possessions. Gripping their weapons, Morgana a shotgun and Arthur an automatic weapon, a hidden revolver under his shirt, they climbed down towards their car. The zombies had rushed into the building behind them and left their path completely clear.
They were not about to take any chances and dashed to the car, tossed their things in the back seat and got in. Arthur turned the car on while Morgana locked the doors and scanned for zombies. Just as they were pulling out a zombie jumped out behind a dumpster and slammed into the car. Morgana covered her mouth muffling the scream that had escaped her lips.
The zombie was quite young, maybe around thirteen, her red hair was complete tangles and chunks around her face and her red shot eyes glared at Morgana. She ran towards one of the windows and slammed herself against the glass clinging to the car, her bony fingers clawing in vain leaving bloody trails behind. Morgana’s hands shook as she held the shotgun towards the window and her free hand rested on the window handle, ready to lower it.
“Don’t, you will bring the rest on us. We can’t chance it.” Arthur advised, his words coming out more like an order than anything.
Morgana shot him an angry look and removed her hand from the window handle, leaving her shotgun still raised. He pushed on the gas pedal and burned off, sending the zombie back against the dumpster. Their car vanished down the road in a cloud of burning rubber, out of the city and in the direction where they hoped this Haven was located.
The city sign came into view, its “Goodbye” message half covered by an entirely different message written in black spray paint. Arthur hit the brakes causing Morgana to slam into the dashboard; she still hadn’t put on her seat-belt. Her shotgun dove off her hands and smacked against her feet.
“What the hell, Arthur…” Morgana screeched as she reached for her shotgun and looked up. She didn’t bother to continue, her eyes also spotted the message left for Arthur.
Arthur got out of the car, not bothering to check if any zombies were around, and rushed closer to the sign. “Heading to the Haven, M” He swallowed the knot at the back of his throat and got back in the car, there was no way of knowing how long ago the message had been written, but it was a sign. He was getting closer.
“Hold on Merlin I am coming.” He told himself as he put the shift into drive and once more moved the car down the street. The sign diminished in size in their rear-view mirrors, its existence a new found hope to one and an annoyance to the other.