Through The Rot: What The Hell?

This is the 4th part of my ongoing zombie story. If you missed any, you can find them all

here. Keep in mind some chapters have warnings, while others, like this chapter, does not.

Word count: 3239

     “What the hell is he doing?” Liam asked as he clung to the dusty window frame. His eyes were locked on a man who was walking down the middle of the empty street as if he didn't have a care in the world.

    “Who?” Olivia asked as she glanced over at Liam.

     Liam used his shirt sleeve to wipe away some of the grime from the window so he could see better. “This idiot isn't even trying to go unnoticed. He's out in the open.” He scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. “I don't even see a weapon.”

    Annoyed that Liam didn't answer her question but instead just kept complaining, Olivia stood up with a sigh. “Who's dumb enough to walk in the open unarmed, Le.” Knowing she wouldn't get an answer, Olivia pushed aside the box she was digging through and walked over to Liam at the window.

     She followed Liams gaze and tsked when she saw the man down below. He was walking slowly smack in the middle of the street. She narrowed her eyes and focused on the man harder. “Le, look. He's wearing a hospital gown and he's barefoot.” Her confusion showed clearly in her voice as she leaned closer to the glass, her nose almost touching it.

     “What's he doing in that get up?” Liam wondered as he pushed closer to the window as well.

     “There's a hospital just up the street, the direction he's coming from.” Olivia responded as she watched the strange man below.

     His steps were slow, dragging slightly as if each foot was too heavy to lift properly. His shoulders were hunched, and his body swayed as he struggled to keep his balance. He stumbled every few steps, his body jerking with the effort to stay upright.

     “I think it's a rotter, Le, not a man.” Olivia spoke gently as she placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. “Look how it moves.”

    Liam couldn't argue that the guy walked like one of the dead, but he wasn't convinced. “I don't think so. Look at him. He doesn't move like them exactly. He looks more like he's trying to force his legs to work, rotters don't do that, they just drag ‘em along. And look how he moves his head around like he's actually scanning the area. Rotters don't look around, they just walk. And look! Just now!” Liam’s finger rapped the glass as he pointed at the man. “He stumbled but caught himself. What rotter does that? They just fall then get up.”

    Olivia nodded as she agreed with Liam. “Okay, so he's alive. But not for long. He looks dazed or something.”

    “Hey! Guys!” Brax whispered as he stormed into the dimly lit room. The sun filtering in through the windows gave them enough light to see, even if it left most of the corners and back in shadows. “We got company.”

    “Living or not?” Olivia asked, her gaze still locked outside.

     “Rotters.” Brax responded as he glanced out the window then at his two friends who were completely distracted. He couldn't see much outside with their heads blocking his view.

     “How many?” Liam asked as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

    “A shit ton. Think horde. Then multiply it by a hundred.”

     Olivia and Liam both turned to Brax in unison, their eyes wide. Liam glanced back out the window then to Olivia. She shook her head, sadly.

    “What way are they moving?” Liam asked quietly.

    “They’re going east, they should walk right past us if we're lucky. We have everything boarded up good downstairs and if we stay quiet they won't have any reason to bother us.” Brax replied as he looked back the way he'd come.

     “If they see him…Olivia, they're going to kill him.” Liam was searching her eyes now, pleading with her to understand.

     “Maybe they won't notice him. If he's quiet they'll probably just keep walking down the street. Like you said, rotters don't look around, so they won't look down the other street.” Olivia patted his shoulder.

     Olivia knew Liam was sensitive and hated to leave anyone behind. He'd put himself in harm's way more than once to save someone else, but this was different. There wasn't anything they could do for the guy who was two stories down and a building away.

     “If he's quiet? There's no way. Look how he's stumbling and falling into cars. We have to help him.” Liam argued as he turned back to the window.

     “Who are we talking about?” Brax asked as he inched closer to the window.

    “Le, what are we supposed to do? Our only choices are to either let whatever happens, happen, or we make noise to distract them. If we get their attention, we're as good as dead, and you know that.” Olivia was trying to help him understand the situation as gently as she could, but her nerves were frayed.

     “We can't just stand here and watch them tear him apart. I won't!” Liam growled as he pushed away from the window and started for the door.

    Liam made a vow to himself months ago that he'd never just stand and watch someone die. Never again.

     Oliver grabbed his arm to stop him as Brax positioned himself between Liam and the door.

     “We can't help him. I'm sorry, Liam. If you go down there you kill all four of us.” Her voice was soft as a feather as she searched his eyes. “Let's just go back to Shay and hope we won't hear anything from outside.”

    “No.” Liam croaked as he fought to control his emotions. “He deserves to be ed at the very least. He shouldn't die alone…we should witness his end.” He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, stealing himself for what he was about to witness.

     “Who are we even talking about, guys?” Brax asked again as he followed them back to the window.

    “Him.” Olivia replied as she pointed to the man who was now standing perfectly still with his head cocked, as if he were listening to something. He was still in the middle of the road with nothing to hide him from the rotters. He had no weapon, no way to defend himself. Not that anything short of a tank would save him from what was coming anyway.

     As the three friends watched, the man shivered and began to stumble forward again, towards the danger.

     “Shit. The poor guy has no idea what's waiting for him around the corner.” Brax whispered as he shook his head.

     As if on cue, a rotter came into view, followed by another and another. The man didn't seem to notice as he ambled along with his head down. As the rotters slowly made their way down the street, the observers silently prayed that the man stay perfectly still.

     Liam groaned, “No.” As the man tripped then pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He swayed and stumbled sideways like a drunk as he tried to balance himself again, then he lost the battle. He topped over to his right, his thin body crashing into a car.

     The eerie silence was broken as his elbow smashed through the window, sending jagged shards cascading onto the pavement below. He let out a ragged cry, but the sound barely had time to leave his lips before it was drowned out.

     A chorus of growls and shrieks erupted from the rotters as they snapped to attention. One by one their heads turned towards the lone man who stood cradling his bleeding arm.

     He seemed confused as his wide, unfocused eyes locked onto the horde as they changed direction, now moving towards him. Olivia's heart dropped as she searched the man's face. He wasn’t just scared. He was lost, disoriented, like someone waking up from a nightmare only to realize the horror was real.

    “Run, damn it! Run!” Liam growled as he gripped the ledge of the window so hard his knuckles were white. “Why is he just standing there?”

     Olivia knew the question was rhetorical, so she stayed quiet and she squeezed his arm reassuringly and bit her lip. She was trying not to cry. She needed to be strong for Liam, for the strange down below.

     The rotters surged forward, their movements jerky and unnatural, skeletal fingers clawing at the air as if they could already taste him.

     Liam cursed under his breath, his grip tightening even more on the ledge. "He's dead. He has to run, or he's dead." His voice was raw, edged with frustration and helplessness.

    The first wave of rotters closed in, trapping him in the endless sea of the dead. Their clawed fingers raked the air as they growled and snarled, but the man just stood there as if his mind couldn't accept what was happening.

     The horde ed by him like a river splitting around a rock, never touching him, never even seeing him.

    Liam inhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat. "What the hell?" He whispered.

    Olivia clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp as she watched with a mix of disbelief and awe. She'd never seen anything like this.

    The rotters pressed in on all sides as they searched for their prey, the creator of the noise they heard, but not a single one acknowledged the man standing there, still gripping his injured arm, still staring in dazed disbelief.

    “This doesn't make sense. It's not possible.” Brax breathed as he pressed closer to his friend's to get a better view of what was happening.

     Yet, as they watched, the horde continued moving past him, the dazed man standing untouched in the eye of a storm of death.

    “How can they not see him? Smell him? Sense him?” Liam demanded as he glanced at Olivia as if she had the answers. “He's really there, right? We're not hallucinating?”

     “I don't know. I don't know how they don't see him.” Olivia responded as she shook her head. “He should be dead. He's even bleeding. That should have driven them all into a frenzy.”

     It felt like hours ed as the trio watched in fascination as the hundreds of undead walked around this man. They didn't bump into him as if he were truly invisible, but they parted around him as if he were an obstacle.

     “Maybe he's one of them? Or he's been bitten already and is slowly changing?” Brax asked as his eyes remained on the man in question. “If they can sense the virus in him, maybe that's why they don't care about him.”

    The man watched the rotters for a bit then he slowly began to turn in circles, taking in the large amount of grotesque bodies. With his back to them, they could see a newly healed scar running from the back of his neck and down over his right shoulder blade getting lost in his gown.

    Olivia exhaled shakily as she let go of Liam's arm. “This isn't real. It can't be.”

    Liam didn't respond. His grip on the windowsill had loosened, but his eyes never left the man below.

    The stranger completed his rotation, once again facing them and for the first time, he looked up. Not at them, he didn’t seem to know they were watching, but toward the sky. He seemed to be looking for clarity from the heavens as he kept his injured arm cradled against his chest.

    His face was extremely thin, his sharp cheekbones evident even at this distance. His skin was pale, almost translucent beneath the streaks of grime. Confusion was etched across his features, his brows drawing together as he stared at the serine white clouds that mocked the chaos below. He looked a lot younger than they had first assumed. If he was a man, he'd just crossed that milestone.

     Liam’s breath hitched. He could see the rise and fall of the man’s chest and the way he adjusted his stance ever so slightly to keep his balance. A rotter wouldn’t do that.

     “He's alive. Even though they don't pay any attention to him, he's alive.” Liam whispered with excitement as he looked at his friends. “He's alive and they don't see him! Do you have any idea what that means?”

    Brax and Olivia both shook their heads as they looked at him. “What's it mean, Le?” Olivia asked as she hugged herself.

     “It means…well…I don't know! But I think it means we have a chance. Whatever he has, or is wearing, however he smells, or something is hiding him from them. We need to find out what it is so we can be unseen too.” Liam explained as he grinned and backed away from the window. “Come on. As soon as the horde is past, we need to get him.”

    “Hold up, Liam. What if he's dangerous? We know nothing about this guy except he wasn't killed by the rotters for some unknown reason. That alone raises some suspicion.” Brax argued as he put his hands on his narrow hips. “He's most likely infected. It's the only explanation for what happened. Or didn't happen I guess.”

     “I can't see any wounds or blood anywhere other than from his arm, and we saw how he got that. It's not like that gown is hiding much.” Liam started walking towards the door of the room. “We get him, then we can look him over for bites or anything else. If he's been bitten, we put him down.” He glanced back, his expression daring them to argue again. “I won't just leave him to die.”

     Olivia looked at Brax and shook her head, warning him not to say anything else. She already knew it was pointless. Liam wouldn't leave anyone behind if he had even the slightest chance of helping them.

─══─━══─⊱✠⊰─══━─══─

    The world around him was a blur. Gray, shifting figures making horrible, non stop shuffling sounds and deep, gravelly moans and growls. His head throbbed with such a deep ache it made it hard to think, hard to .

     His breath came in ragged and uneven waves. He wasn't sure if it was caused by pain or something else. His arm burned and stung where he'd cut it on…something he couldn't . Warm blood still ran freely from the wound, trailing down down and soaking his clothes. But that didn't matter right now. Something wasn't right. He could feel it.

     The figures moved endlessly around him, brushing close, but never actually touching. He could feel the air shift as they ed, hear the gross wet sounds of their jaws moving, the creaking and popping of bones grinding beneath rotted skin. He should be terrified. He should be running. His body refused to move and his limbs were too heavy to lift. His mind was still so lost in a deep haze that he wondered if anything was real. Was he even real?

    With great effort, he forced his head to turn slightly as he blinked sluggishly. More of them. They were everywhere. He felt like a rock surrounded in an ocean of decaying flesh.

    ‘Why weren't they attacking?’ The thought barely formed before it slipped away, lost in the fog clouding his mind. He struggled to latch onto something, anything that made at least a little sense. His last clear memory…what was his last clear memory?

     He ed sitting next to Chaz, his older brother, as they cruised down the highway faster than they should have been. He kept asking Chaz to slow down, but his brother lived for the thrill of tempting death. The rain was pouring down so hard he could hardly see the road ahead of them, the tail lights of the other cars were all just smudged blurs.

     He ed feeling scared as he clung to the door handle with one hand and his seat belt with the other. He ed the car losing traction and spinning around and around. He ed Chaz screaming as his arm flew out and slammed against his chest to keep him against his seat. Then he ed pain. Searing, blinding pain.

     He winced as he pressed his hand to his throbbing temple. The movement made him sway dangerously as his knees threatened to buckle.

     As the jumble of bodies continued to swerve around him he slowly began to turn in place, taking in the sheer number of them. There had to be hundreds, maybe more, all aimlessly drifting down the street. If he focused really hard he could almost make out vague shapes of buildings beyond the sea of bodies.

     He blinked a few times as he tried to clear his vision. All the movement around him was making him even more dizzy than he already was. He raised his head and focused on the clouds as he tried to stay on his feet. Something told him that if he fell, he'd never get up again.

     That's when a sudden thought hit him. He was dreaming. Of course he was. There was no other explanation for what was happening. It was all a bad dream and he'd wake up any minute now.

     He was obviously in the hospital, probably in a coma. This was just a bad dream his subconscious made up to cover the memories of the accident. Now that he knew he was dreaming it shouldn't be hard to take control of it and change the setting to something more relaxing.

     Kaelor closed his eyes as he envisioned a beach with his feet nestled in the warm sand as the sun gently caressed him. He imagined he could hear the waves softly breaking against the rocks as he watched the seagulls soar overhead.

    An ear splitting screech brought him back to reality as his eyes snapped open. He was still surrounded by an unknown number of what looked like walking corpses. He couldn't understand why he wouldn't just wake up.

     He refused to it that you don't feel pain in dreams. He ignored the throbbing in his head, the ache in every muscle. He felt himself rocking side to side as he fought to stay on his wobbly, jelly-like legs, but he told himself it was just his imagination. He was dreaming. He had to be. This couldn't be real. He had no intention of believing this to be his new reality.

     A flicker of movement to his left caught his eye. His head turned automatically, though it was sluggish, as his unfocused gaze slowly found a window that had shadows moving behind it. He could make out a face, no not a face, multiple faces pressed to the glass. He was being watched.

     Kaelor tilted his head a little as he wondered if he was actually seeing people or if he was crazier than he already thought. He hadn't seen a single person until this…ocean of death came flooding in, and now he's seeing faces in windows.

     Kaelor shook his head, then seriously wished he hadn't as the world tilted and bucked, throwing his feet out from under him. He landed on his back, his head smashed into the ground with a sickening thud. The bodies around him suddenly started thrashing at the air where he was standing a moment ago, their moans and shrieks rising in pitch. They seemed to notice when he moved, but still couldn't find him.

     Kaelor groaned softly as the darkness enveloped him.