State of Emergency Read online

  Five minutes later, a crew member walked by, talking into a microphone clipped on his belt. “Excuse me,” Talia said. “Do you know when Tatum is coming out?”

  The man turned to face them; the name tag stitched into his shirt read ‘Bill.’ “Sorry, it’ll be at least half an hour. She and Stan are...busy.”

  Talia buried her head in Pierce’s shoulder. Dallas ignored them and joined her friends at the table, cleared of all its microphones and wires. “We should get out of here soon,” Ashleigh said. “I know a bouncer at this club downtown who can get us in and get us drinks. Unlike this place.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Damn bartender.”

  “Can you at least try to get me back to Tatum’s early?” Dallas said. “You know, before the sun comes up? I have some schoolwork to do tomorrow.”

  “Schoolwork? Are you kidding me? It’s fall break!”

  Dallas’s phone buzzed furiously in her pocket, distracting her from the conversation. Everyone at the table reached for their own phones, but didn’t put them down when they saw no new messages. “There’s a review of the concert up already,” Dallas said. “My Uncle Jack sent it to me. The guy says all of Tatum’s songs sound like they were written by a neurotic twelve-year-old.” She snickered; that was exactly what she had been thinking for the past year. If only she could have approached the reviewer beforehand and spared him an hour of misery.

  “Who’s your Uncle Jack?” Sam said. “Have we ever met him?”

  “Probably not. He lives on a farm in Tennessee. It’s up in the mountains and totally isolated. I mean, he’s got solar power and everything. Got a big wooden fence around it. My entire family thinks it’s insane, but it’s actually pretty awesome.” She pulled up pictures on her phone and passed it around. “The fences are super high. Like, fifty feet. You wouldn’t be able to get in unless he wanted you there.”

  “I could never do that,” Ashleigh said. “Just be completely cut off from civilization. How does he do it?”

  “I think he likes it. Being by himself, you know.”

  Ashleigh stared at her phone. She looked as if she would rather hang upside down by her toenails than be away from civilization for even a minute, much less a lifetime. Dallas wasn’t sure she agreed.

  The half hour mark came and went. Talia bounced on Pierce’s lap, chewing her fingernails. She tried calling Tatum and insisted the others do the same, but none of them could reach her. After forty-five minutes, there was still no sign of her.

  “I think we should go now,” Dallas said. “Come on, Tally.”

  “What? No! We have to wait for Tatum.”

  “Let’s just go to her house. She’ll show up eventually. Besides, you’re not even staying with us tonight. Are you?”

  “Yes I am! And I don’t want to leave without her."

  “I’ll wait with you, Tally,” Pierce said.

  Dallas sighed. “Forget it. I’ll go look for her.” She nodded back toward the table. “Come with me, Sam.”

  Dallas wished she hadn't jumped in to help Talia so quickly. Her sister was only a year younger, and wouldn't have Dallas there to help her out for much longer. But Dallas’s desire to do things for her baby sister was almost as strong as Talia's desire to be helped.

  The hallway was dimly lit by flickering bulbs on the ceiling. Other than the clicking of their shoes on the concrete floor, it was silent.

  "My God,” Sam said, “It’s like something out of a horror movie.”

  “I didn’t know it would be so dark,” Dallas said. “But I’m glad you’re here. God, I didn’t even want to be here at all.”

  “At the show? I’m not really surprised. You and Tatum aren’t exactly best friends, are you?”

  Dallas frowned. “I really shouldn’t hate her as much as I do.”

  “Why not?” he said. “I mean, I think she’s a pretty cool girl. But doesn’t everyone have someone they don’t like? And it’s not like you trash her every chance you get or anything.”

  “Oh I do,” she countered. “I just don’t say any of it out loud.”

  “She never says anything bad about you either. Maybe that’s why you guys don’t like each other.”

  “Because we’re polite to each other? Yeah, that makes perfect sense.”

  He laughed. “No, because you guys are too much alike. You both want the same thing and act the same way, so you’re naturally in competition. And she’s the one who’s been getting all the credit lately.”

  “Huh?”

  “Everyone tells her how sweet and pretty and talented she is. But you’re sweet and pretty and talented too, and nobody heaps compliments on you. While Tatum is out playing shows, you’re busting your ass going to school and working, and you want to sing just as much as she does. But you’re not getting the credit you deserve, and she is.”

  She blushed when Sam said she was pretty. “I’m not that nice. You should hear some of the stuff I think about her but never say. And besides, isn’t that what we’re all supposed to do? Strive for what we want? If I spend all my time being jealous of Tatum, I’ll never get anywhere."

  “You’re probably right. But it’s human nature to be upset when things don’t go our way. Besides, when you get to where you want to be, I bet you’ll appreciate it a hell of a lot more than she does.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Because you didn’t have any of it handed to you.”

  They reached a wall and the hallway curved sharply to the right. Sam was standing inches from Dallas; she felt his breath on her neck and shivered.

  “Hey Dal, do you hear that?” he said.

  She shook her head. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Exactly. This place should be so loud we can’t hear ourselves think.”

  “‘Twas the night before Saturday, and all through the House of Blues, not a creature was stirring, not even the crew.” Dallas snickered. “I just made that up on the spot. Tatum and I should collaborate.”

  A moaning noise echoed from further down the hallway. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.

  Another noise, what sounded like a muffled scream, rang through the air. Sam motioned for her to follow him and walked toward a door at the end of the hall. The noises were more distinct now, coming from the other side of that door. A few years ago, she had been at the zoo with her family and watched the trainers feed the lions. She stood outside their cage and watched them gnaw at their prey for nearly ten minutes, making a sound eerily similar to the one she heard now.

  Sam walked forward and knocked his hand against a fire hose. “Ow, damn,” he hissed, rubbing his fingers over the injury. Dallas’s heart thumped. The gnawing sound was more pronounced now. She knocked on the door softly, but there was no answer. She reached out and gingerly turned the doorknob. The door creaked slightly and opened.

  The door opened up into a large dressing room. A bright pink couch faced full length mirrors on the other side of the wall. The carpet was beige, but a hot pink rug covered several square feet of the floor. Dallas saw her reflection in the full length mirrors as well as Sam’s behind her. She also saw Tatum’s.

  Tatum was crouched on the couch but didn’t look up. She had abandoned her dress and only wore a tank top and underwear. She was covered in blood. On the couch was what remained of Stan. His pants were gone and his torso lay open, exposing his internal organs, which slid off the couch in a runny mess. Tatum gripped what looked like a large intestine and gobbled it greedily, blood running down her chin and shirt and onto her crouched knees.

  Dallas backed up and covered her mouth with her hand. She had just come face to face (or, rather, face to mirror) with a zombie.

  Chapter Two

  Dallas was eight years old when she saw her first zombie movie. She had snuck into the living room one night after bedtime in an act of rebellion, and Day of the Dead was playing on TV. She became enchanted by the living dead: The way they struck fear into even the toughest
of grown men, the devastation they caused with a simple bite, and their eerie resemblance to humans. Unfortunately, her parents caught her halfway through and promptly banned her from seeing the ending. But it didn’t take long to figure out how that and most other zombie stories ended: The zombies took over, leaving the few remaining humans to fend for themselves, usually in a collapsed, anarchic world.

  Dallas took a step forward. Tatum looked up, a wad of intestines protruding from her lips. Her skin was gray and spots that looked like green chicken pox dotted her cheeks and shoulders. Her lips were twisted up in a snarl and a white film covered her blue eyes.

  “Back up!” Dallas whispered to Sam, who stood wide eyed in the doorway. “Go back over to that fire hose and break the glass.”

  He obeyed, but Tatum was getting up now and Dallas was alone and weaponless. To her relief, Tatum did step forward with what appeared to be great effort. She wasn’t one of those new-fangled rage zombies, as they were often called. Though that wasn’t much of an advantage. She was still a zombie, and she still could and would kill them.

  Tatum shuffled forward and reached for Dallas, groaning. Dallas was several feet away and could have backed up further but didn’t want to lure Tatum closer to Sam. She took a step to the side and the two circled each other like dueling rivals in an old Western. Even with one of them dead, they couldn’t get away from being enemies.

  Dallas took another step forward and Tatum reached out her arms. Dallas raised her right leg and kicked Tatum against the back of the couch. Tatum made a noise that sounded like the wind being knocked out of her — a common noise for humans after being kicked, but impossible for zombies, who have no need for air because they don’t breathe.

  There was a crash from the hallway. Dallas ran back to the fire hose where Sam stood in front of a mess of broken glass. She picked up the biggest piece she could find. It dug into her palms and stung but she ignored it.

  “What are you doing?” Sam shouted.

  “Grab a piece of glass!” Tatum was already shuffling forward as fast as her undead body could carry her; she probably sensed the blood on Dallas’s hands. Stupid, stupid move, Dallas realized. She should have been more careful with the glass. For a moment, she wondered if she would have Tatum’s metaphorical blood on her hands if she ended up hurting her. But there wasn’t much time or use in worrying about that. Even if nobody believed her zombie story — and nobody would, she knew — she could always cite self-defense, because Tatum was headed straight for her, her fingernails caked with blood. As she approached, Dallas lunged forward and jammed the glass into her throat.

  Tatum shrieked and her arms flapped wildly. Afraid she would get scratched, Dallas quickly pulled the glass out and backed up. Tatum fell unceremoniously onto the carpet. There was a crack as her face hit the floor, and then silence. Dark blood spilled over the rug.

  Sam’s jaw was close to hitting the floor itself. He looked down at the body, then up at Dallas, taking little gasps of air. Finally he shouted, “What the hell is wrong with you? You just killed her!”

  “I couldn’t have killed her,” Dallas insisted, “Because she was already dead when we found her.”

  “Are you out of your god damned mind?” He ran his hands, visibly shaking, through his hair, and his voice went up several octaves. “People don’t just come back from the dead. You’re basically saying that Tatum is one of those...well, I don’t know, a...”

  “A zombie?” she finished for him. “That’s exactly what she is. Or was.” She looked down at Tatum, who hadn’t moved and whose broken legs were twisted in a bizarre contortion. “And where there’s one zombie there are usually more, so we need to get out of here.”

  As if on cue, another noise echoed down the hall. She peeked her head out the door. From an exit further down the hallway, several more shufflers in House of Blues uniforms made their way toward them. Leading the horde was Bill, the crew member who had told them earlier Tatum wouldn’t be out for awhile.

  “Come on, let’s go!” She grabbed Sam’s hand, an act that under any other circumstances would have excited her, and they ran down the hall.

  Talia, Pierce, and Ashleigh were still backstage, oblivious to the apocalyptic (or at least catastrophic) events going on around them. Ashleigh kept herself occupied with her phone, punching buttons at lightning fast speed, while Talia and Pierce entertained each other with...well, each other.

  Dallas and Sam burst into the room. “We have to get out of here,” Dallas said.

  “What?” Talia giggled. She didn’t look at her sister as she twisted a lock of Pierce’s hair around her finger. “Did you find Tatum?”

  Ashleigh lifted her crossed legs from the table and set them down, her fingers still punching away. “Okay, okay, I know...damn, I can’t remember where I parked.” Other than her feet on the floor, nobody moved. So Dallas put her own foot down, and hard.

  “GET IN THE CAR!” she shouted. “I don’t care whose car but we all need to get in a car and get the hell out of here right this second!”

  Talia nearly fell off Pierce’s lap. “Dallas, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “God dammit, there’s a group of people down the hall that wants to kill us, and if y’all don’t get your butts in someone’s car right now, they’ll do it!”

  Ashleigh scurried to the door and Pierce mumbled, “Okay, okay...Jesus,” and fumbled with his keys. “We’ll take my car.”

  “Wait,” Talia said, still clinging to Pierce. “Where’s Tatum?”

  “She’s not here anymore. There’s no time to explain. Let’s go!”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not leaving without her.”

  “She’s gone, Tally.”

  “What? Gone where?”

  “I’ll tell you in the car.” She grabbed Talia’s arm harder than she should have and dragged her out the door. The others followed.

  The closest parking lot was in the next block over. Once they arrived, Dallas spotted Pierce’s SUV close by. “Come on guys!” she called. Pierce climbed into the driver’s seat and she took the passenger’s. Everyone else piled in the back. Pierce locked the doors and pulled his phone back out. Dallas did the same; she had a missed call from her mother, but decided to wait to respond. No use telling her she was fine now when she could be dead soon. She did, however, send a text message. When she looked back up, everyone’s eyes were on her.

  Pierce pointed to Dallas’s phone. “What’s that on your hands?” he said.

  She looked at her palms and gasped. The glass had been lost somewhere between the dressing room and the car, but caused a wound worse than she thought. She wiped her hands on her jeans, but that only caused the blood to streak across her hands and fingers.

  Ashleigh threw up her arms. “What the fuck, Dallas? You rush us out here, saying someone’s trying to kill us, you’ve got blood on your hands, and you’re sitting there on your phone? What’s going on?”

  Dallas took a deep breath and looked back at Sam. “You guys aren’t going to believe us,” she said.

  “Believe what?” Ashleigh said. She was obviously still angry, but took deep breaths, and Dallas knew she was trying not to lose her cool again. “Whatever it is Dallas, just tell us. You know we’ll believe you.”

  “Oh please. You’ll never believe me.”

  “What is your problem? You’ve never lied to me before. Of course I’ll believe you.”

  She licked her lips. “Fine. The club was attacked...by zombies.”

  “Come on Dallas,” Talia said, “This isn’t funny. What happened?”

  “It’s true,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it myself.”

  “There’s more,” Dallas said. “The first one we saw was Tatum. She was turned. I’m sorry Tally.” Talia made a twitching motion with her mouth but was otherwise unresponsive.

  Nobody spoke for awhile. Even Dallas finally had a moment to sit and process what had happen
ed. Zombies did exist. They were real, and they were a real threat. Even if they didn’t bring about the biblical Apocalypse promised for over two millennium, even if there was no second coming of Christ or trumpets sounding like she learned in church, everything had changed.

  “No,” Ashleigh said. “That’s impossible. This isn’t one of your stupid zombie movies.”

  “Isn’t that exactly what characters in movies always say? And even in real life, any time something bad happens we think it only happens to someone else. Well, now we’re the someone else. Everyone is.”

  “Everyone? No, Dal, this is only one place. Not the whole world. Chances are they’re going to have whatever it is in there out of here in a day or two and we’ll all be okay.”

  Dallas shook her head. “I’m not taking that chance.”

  “Well, what are you going to do? Jet into space?”

  She didn’t laugh. “Remember my Uncle Jack I was talking about earlier? The one who lives on a farm in Chattanooga? He told me and Tally that if we were ever in trouble, we could stay with him as long as we needed. I just told him I was on my way.” She smiled. “He probably thinks I got knocked up or something.”

  “So, that’s who you were messaging a minute ago?” Ashleigh said.

  Dallas nodded.

  “And this guy has fifty foot high wooden fences around his property?”

  Dallas nodded again.

  “So, you’re just going to drive through the night and barge into his house with a bunch of kids he’s never met?”

  “Are you going to tell me that I’m crazy?”

  Ashleigh smirked. “I think that ship has sailed.”

  “Well, I really don’t give a damn what you think at this point. All I know is what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard. And I just saw someone I’ve known for years try to devour another person, and I jammed a piece of glass in her throat. I’m scared, okay? I don’t know what else to do.”