A naked man stepped out of the vineyard and into the yard. As he got closer, Shannon saw that he was covered with dirt and blood. And there was something else wrong with him, too. She couldn’t pinpoint it, though.
Giggling nervously, Allison pointed. “That man doesn’t have any clothes on.”
Shannon’s heart began to pound. “Go to the basement.”
The man passed the pool, and now Shannon saw what was wrong with him. His insides were hanging out of his stomach.
“Get downstairs,” she repeated. “Now!”
Allison seemed frozen. She didn’t respond, just continued pointing, her mouth hanging open. Then the water in the swimming pool splashed, and a woman stood up in it, surprising both the girls and the naked man. The girls screamed.
“Who are they?” Allison’s grip on the water bottle tightened.
“Bad people. Come on. Go to the basement.”
“What about you?”
“I’m going to make sure the doors are locked.”
In the backyard, the woman climbed out of the pool. Her white skin looked like a prune, and her clothing was plastered to her emaciated body. She fell in step with the naked man.
Shannon picked up the phone and dialed 911. She got a recorded message that told her all circuits were busy, and slammed the phone down in frustration.“Stupid phone.”
Allison’s lower lip trembled. “What do they want?”
Shannon didn’t reply. Instead, she grabbed Allison’s arm and dragged her along. Already, a plan was forming in her mind.
The house to the right of theirs, an American Southern, had a never-developed cul-de-sac with woods at its end point. The girls liked to play on the cul-de-sac, and called it the “secret street.” Their topsecret clubhouse was located in the woods beyond the secret street.
Shannon opened the basement door. “Get down there.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to lock the doors. We’ll hide in the basement. If they get into the house, we’ll go through the crawl space and out to the back yard. Then we’ll run to the secret street and hide in our clubhouse before they figure out we’re gone.”
She shut the door behind Allison, and then ran for the front door. As her fingers touched the lock, she heard voices on the other side.
“Is there anyone inside?” A woman’s voice. The one from the pool?
“Only one way to find out. You’ll have to open the door. My arm is broken, and as you can see, the other one is missing.”
The doorknob rattled, and something pounded against the frame.
Turning, Shannon fled for the basement. The pounding continued behind her, and she heard wood splintering. Before she could reach the basement, the front door crashed open. A stench filled the house. Rotting meat. The way the garbage can smelled when her parents hadn’t emptied it for a few days.
Not wanting to lead the intruders to her sister, Shannon ran up the stairs to her bedroom.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” the naked man croaked. “You’ve got visitors!”
Trying to be as quiet as possible, Shannon ducked into the closet, pulled the door shut behind her, and hid beneath a pile of clothes. There was a loud bang as the intruders knocked something over. Then she heard them start up the stairs. When the foul smell increased, and the soft footsteps padded into her room, Shannon Wuller tried not to scream.
SO BELOW
(Sisters, Part Two)
The Rising
Day Four
Belleville, Illinois
When she first woke up, Allison Wuller didn’t remember where she was. Her eyes were open, but everything was pitch black. Her aching legs and arms were all scrunched up. She sat up quickly and banged her head.
“Ouch!”
Lying back down, she rubbed her head and waited. She remembered now. She was inside a trunk. She’d hidden inside it when the naked man and the woman opened the basement door. She’d heard them break down the front door, heard them calling out. Their voices were weird—
cold and growly, and they stank like poop. Even hiding down here in the basement, she could smell them.
Allison had waited for Shannon to come back, but she hadn’t. She wondered what had happened to her sister, and tried very hard not to cry. Everybody was gone now. All her family. They probably weren’t coming back. Something bad had happened. And now she was alone in the dark. The zombies (because she knew what they were—she may have been six, but she wasn’t stupid—she knew what zombies looked like) had crashed around upstairs for a long time, before coming down into the basement. Allison had scampered inside the empty trunk and shut the lid just in time. She remained there in the darkness, holding her breath and trying not to move or scream, while they searched the basement.
“I don’t see any life glows,” the naked man said.
“Maybe the house is deserted.”
“There’s a half-full bottle of water,” the woman growled.
“So?”
Allison shut her eyes tight. She’d left her water sitting on top of a box.
“Someone was drinking it,” the woman said.
“Where are they now?”
“I don’t know, but they aren’t here. Let’s check the house across the street, the one with the gardens. Maybe we’ll have better luck there.”
And then they were gone. Allison lay there shivering, afraid to come out. She must have fallen asleep after that. She wondered how long it had been. Could they still be out there? Maybe the zombies were playing a trick on her. Maybe they’d known she was hiding in the trunk, and they were upstairs waiting. Allison squeezed her legs together. She had to go to the bathroom—really, really bad. And she couldn’t stay inside this trunk much longer, either. It smelled like mothballs. She listened carefully, but the only sound she heard was her own breathing. Her parents had always called Allison their
“little spitfire,” and while she wasn’t sure what it meant, she understood what it implied. It meant not being afraid.
So she did her best to be brave.
Slowly, carefully, Allison opened the lid and peeked out through the crack. The basement was empty.
She climbed out of the trunk and collapsed to the floor. Her legs felt rubbery and weak. She lay there panting, until they felt better. Then she climbed the stairs, put her ear to the door, and listened. The house was quiet.
“Shannon…” Allison bit her lip and tried not to cry.There were no zombies in the living room or kitchen. Allison glanced out the window into the backyard, and shuddered, remembering what they’d seen last night. Then something occurred to her. It was daylight outside. When they’d first seen the zombies, it had been getting dark. Now it was morning again, which meant she’d slept all night inside the trunk.
Allison began to get a bad feeling inside—her parents were never coming home, and the zombies had eaten her sister. She pushed the tears away, trying to be a spitfire, trying to be brave, the way they’d want her to. She wondered what to do next. Should she call 911? Go next door to the neighbor’s house? Or just wait? What if the zombies came back?
While she was trying to decide, she heard a noise from upstairs—a soft, muffled thump.
Allison froze.
The sound was repeated, louder this time. Before she could move, she heard the hiss of a closet door sliding back on its track. Allison couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like it was coming from her and Shannon’s bedroom.