The Rising: Selected Scenes from the End of the World

“Ob’s not here, is he? He’s on the other side of this miserable planet.”

As they argued, Jason leaned over to Catherine and whispered in her ear. Her eyes grew wide as she listened. She shook her head.

“Catherine, it’s the only way.”

“No, I won’t!”

“I love you,” he said, and he meant it. He’d never meant it more than he did now.

He turned on the propane bottle and picked up the cleaver. The gas hissed.

One of the zombies spotted him and cried an alarm. The rest turned their attention back to their prey.Before they could reach him, Jason swung the cleaver, splitting Catherine’s head in half. Then he struck the match. The propane bottle exploded. Both of them were incinerated within seconds. Their souls were free, as were their bodies. The wind scattered their ashes, and as it whistled over the rooftops, it sounded very much like two voices, whispering of undying love…

SPOILERS

The Rising

Day Ten

Columbus, Ohio

After five days, the creature’s skin looked like a greasy, bloated sausage casing. The zombie was tied to the chair, and its flesh was swollen around the ropes, rupturing and leaking a stew of toxic juices. Mike replaced the rope with heavy stainless steel chains and padlocks instead.

Mike Goffee lived on the south side of downtown Columbus in a two-story house with ugly yellow siding. The home was in need of repairs, but he wasn’t much of a maintenance person. The front porch and back deck both leaned, and the garage needed painting. He’d been in no hurry to do it. Single, he lived alone, except for his cat. Five days ago, the cat got loose, jumping over the fence in the backyard. Mike hadn’t looked for it, because even then, it was dangerous to go outside. But that night, the cat came back—dead. And it brought company, a human zombie. Both had immediately attacked him. Mike crushed the cat’s head by dropping the microwave on it, and then pushed the refrigerator over on the other zombie, pinning it to the floor. Then, before it could free itself, he’d hacked its legs off at the knees and its arms at the elbows, and tied it to the chair in the living room—a captive audience.

If someone had been around to ask him why he’d done it, Mike wouldn’t have had an answer. Certainly, he’d never done something like this before The Rising started. He wasn’t sure why he did it now.

He guessed that he was just lonely.

Mike recognized the zombie as one of his former neighbors. He’d never known the man’s name, never talked to him while he was living. Just the occasional head nod from over the fence. But he talked to him now. Talked to him every day. Mike scratched himself through his dirty jeans. The power was off and he couldn’t do laundry, and even before The Rising had started, he was down to his last clean pair.

Something ruptured inside the zombie and foul black sludge dripped from its nose.

“Whew!” Mike fanned his nose and reached for the can of air freshener.

“This body is rapidly decomposing.” The zombie struggled against the chains. “Free me, so that I may find another.”

Mike shook his head and sprayed a cloud of air freshener. “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

“We’ve been over this,” the zombie reasoned. “It does you no good to keep me captive like this. What’s the point? You don’t ask me for information on the Siqqusim,to determine how to destroy us. You don’t do anything—

except talk about movies and books.”

Mike sat the can down and gestured around the living room. The shelves overflowed with books, records, DVDs, CDs, and videos. “Well, as you can see, I like to read and watch films. Don’t you?”

The zombie sighed. “How many times must I tell you? I am merely borrowing this shell. My host liked to hunt and fish. He never read a book after high school, and he only watched action movies.”

“I enjoy old foreign and independent films, mostly,” Mike said, ignoring the comment. “I used to go down to the Drexel and the Wexner Center to see them. Books, too. Usually, whatever wasn’t popular. Mystery, horror, non-fiction. Whatever.”

“Fascinating.” The corpse rolled its one remaining eye. Mike sprayed some more air freshener. “No need to be sarcastic.”

“Eons spent in the Void, and I am freed only to discuss obscure pop culture with the likes of you.”

Mike shrugged. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

The zombie spat out a broken, yellowed tooth.