THE LIVING AND THE DEAD
by Noah Cicero
twenty-two
Five days into the invasion.
Everyone is sitting around the bar doing nothing.
The radio stops playing music, gives an update.
Katie Couric says, “The undead have destroyed the police force. The military that is left in the United States has been destroyed also. The public has asked the government to bring back the troops stationed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Germany, Italy, and Japan. The President has denied that request stating that, “All the rich white Protestants have been taken to a safe island in the South Pacific. And they are all right and there is no need to worry. The troops need to stay in those locations to protect our economic interests. And they would probably just end up being killed anyway. Thank you. Godspeed.” The death toll for America is estimated at 80 percent of the population. The top ten percent richest have all left the country. So that only leaves ten percent remaining alive. To the remaining ten percent that remains alive. It would probably be a good idea right now to kill yourself.”
“We’re fucked. We will drown under these circumstances, says Esmeralda.
“Don’t worry this is America. This can’t happen here,” says Dave.
“Weren’t you listening you skeezer fuck?” Says Esmeralda.
“Our families our probably dead. We will be dead soon,” says Layla beginning to cry.
“I need to be by myself,” says Esmeralda grabbing a bottle of vodka and heading to the basement.
Esmeralda goes into the dressing room. She takes a big drink from the bottle.
She sticks her hand into panties and rubs herself.
All she can do is jack off to relieve any of the tension in her body.
Her muscles are taut, she must calm down somehow.
Layla sits in one of the lapdance rooms.
She sits on a couch and cuts little slits in her skin.
She writes the word ‘undead’ on her skin.
Blood flows out of her.
The pain feels good.
She smiles.
Frankie is in the shower.
He cries while holding his penis.
Dave is sitting at the bar looking at a picture of his mother.
Life is passing slowly.
The undead are still outside.
There is no escape.
This strip club could be where they die.
They will not get to work their thirty years at some shitty job.
They will not get to retire from that shitty job.
They will not get retirement in Florida in an old person’s community.
They will not get to die and get a funeral with their families.
None of that.
They will die meaninglessly in a strip club with three other people they don’t even know.
When Frankie gets out the shower he notices a pretty stripper robe that is laying nearby. He puts it on. It makes him feel sexy. And when he feels sexy he feels calm. That is what he needs most now.
Esmeralda is fingering herself and something occurs to her, “If they are dead, they are decomposing. That means they’re being eaten by maggots. I got it, I got it.”
Esmeralda and yells, “Hey everybody! Come in here I got an idea. I have an idea how we can beat the zombies. I got it. Get the fuck in here!”
Layla comes rushing in..
“What the fuck happened to your leg?” Says Esmeralda to Layla.
“Nothing.”
“There are cuts all over it.”
“When I get stressed out I cut myself. All right. Leave me alone.”
“Go get some band aids.”
“Okay.”
She walks behind the bar to get some band aids.
Frankie comes upstairs. He is wearing the outfit he was looking at downstairs.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Says Esmeralda.
“A pretty outfit.”
“Why?”
“It calms me down to wear women’s clothing.”
“Fuck, you’re both nuts. Dave what were you doing while we were separated?”
They all look at him. He’s crying holding his mother’s photo.
“Fucking hell!”
“Well, what is the idea?”
“Here it is. I realized that they are dead. Which means they are decaying. And from what we’ve seen they are decaying. But I’m not sure how fast a human decomposes.”
“I think it takes about fifty days for sure. But since they make some more zombies everyday, it could be another three months before they are all rotted away.”
“So all we gotta do is wait fifty days?”
“Yeah, but we might starve to death by then. We need to accelerate the process.”
“Like what, build giant maggots,” says Layla jokingly,
“Yeah, that’s it. We could do it. When I was in college I read a paper about giant insects. That back in the day there used to be giant insects when there was more oxygen in the air. And that scientists have figured out how to get them giant again. But couldn’t do it because of regulations by PETA. But it explained how in the article. It basically said you need to splice the cells of a mammal’s lung with theirs and it could work.”
“We don’t have a lab here. So what the fuck are we gonna do?” Says Esmeralda.
“I have lab equipment at my house. Not really lab equipment, but shit to cook crystal meth with. It was my cousin’s. He gave it to me to hold while he was spending time in county for six months. He’s probably one of the undead now so I don’t think he will care.”
There are gunshots outside.
It sounds like an automatic weapon.
Everybody looks up.
“Somebody is out there. Somebody open the door,” says Layla.
Esmeralda grabs her machete, walks to the door.
Everybody follows behind her.
A frantic knocking on the door.
From behind the door a voice is yelling, “Hello, is anyone in there? I’m human! I’m not dead yet! Please let me in!”
He continues yelling while they are talking.
Esmeralda whispers, “What do you all think we should do?”
“Let him in, he probably has guns. And that’s what we are gonna need to get to the meth lab,” says Layla.
“Yeah, let him in. Those things can’t fire guns. Their fingers are too stiff,” says Frankie.
Everyone gets a weapon.
Frankie has his gun.
Layla has a small knife.
Dave has his buck knife.
Esmeralda opens the door.
Tony runs into the bar.
He sits down at the bar.
He grabs the nearest bottle and takes a good swig.
He is panting.
He looks tired and beaten.
He is unshaved, looks mean.
He has a bag with him.
“Who the fuck are you?” Says Esmeralda.
“Tony Tanferno.”
“How’s it going out there?”
“It’s hell.”
“Do you need any food?”
“No, I need booze and then some sleep. Have yous been in here the whole time?”
“Yeah. Since the beginning.”
“It holds them out good?” Says Tony.
“Yeah. No windows and metal doors.”
“This happened before.”
“What?”
“In the sixties. It was small then. They were killed before even ten were made. If you put a dead body into the Mahoning River, it comes back. There’s something in the river, some kind of a concoction of chemicals that mixed together, that does it.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yeah. I’m going to go to sleep. This is a strip club, so where are the couches?”
“Before you go to sleep do you have guns in that bag?”
“Yeah, lots of them. Here look. Show me where I can sleep?”
Layla takes him downstairs.
Frankie and Esmeralda unzip the bag, look in.
It is full of guns and bullets.
“All right. Now we have the shit to get to your house. My car is outside. It should get us there quickly. How close do you live?” Says Esmeralda.
“About ten minutes away.”
“You have any canned goods there?”
“A good amount we can grab. Got a bunch of Ramon Noodles.”
“Sounds good. Tomorrow we do it.”