The Last Husky

On a stormy apocalyptic night, my own mother kicked me and my Husky out into the cold. I was burning with a deadly fever. She did it just so my brother could have my share of the food.

She spat through the crack in the door, Take this useless mutt and go die. Stop wasting Tyler's rations.

I huddled in a dumpster with my dog, certain that my life was over.

Who knew my Husky would suddenly speak with a mechanical voice. "Critical host vitality detected. Infinite Supply Search System bound."

"One hundred yards ahead, supermarket warehouse. Three thousand crates of self-heating beef stew detected."

"Five hundred yards left, pharmacy. Five hundred boxes of antibiotics detected."

Three days later, I established a fortress with my dog pack and mountains of supplies. I sat inside eating a hot steak while watching the show outside.

My mother and brother knelt beyond my chain link fence, tearing at each other like rabid animals over half a piece of moldy bread.

I just smiled. "Careful, Mom. Not even a stray dog would eat that. Swallow slowly."

My head throbbed.

My forehead was hot enough to fry an egg. I curled up in the corner of the living room sofa, wrapped in a threadbare blanket, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

"Mom, just give me one fever pill. I am not going to make it."

My voice was terrifyingly hoarse. The back of my throat tasted like copper.

Martha sat by the coffee table, her fingers wrapped tight around a white plastic bottle. It was the last bottle of Advil in the house. She did not even glance my way. Her eyes were glued to Tyler, who was busy mashing buttons on his video game controller.

Tyler sniffled and let out the quietest, faintest sneeze.

Martha leaped up instantly. She poured a glass of warm water and pressed two pills into Tyler's palm.

"Sweetheart, take these quick. That sneeze did not sound right. You cannot afford to catch a cold."

I stared at the scene in utter disbelief. I was running a fever of a hundred and three degrees. I was borderline hallucinating. Tyler just had an itchy nose.

I struggled to pull myself up from the sofa and reached a shaking hand toward the medicine bottle.

"Mom, I am still burning up. Just save one for me."

Smack.

Martha slapped the back of my hand hard. My skin welled up red almost instantly.

"Eat, eat, eat. That is all you know how to do. This medicine is for the man of the house. Why should a useless burden like you get any?"

Tyler swallowed the pills and slammed his glass down on the table. He shot a look of pure disgust at my Husky, Duke, who was lying by my feet.

"Mom, this dog is shedding everywhere. It pisses me off just looking at it. Plus, it eats way too much. We barely have enough rice left. Just throw it out."

Duke seemed to understand. He let out a soft whimper and buried his nose into the crook of my knees. My father left Duke to me before he passed away. This dog had been by my side for five long years.

I threw my arms around Duke's neck, shielding him.

"No. Dad left him to me. Nobody touches him."

Tyler let out a cold laugh. He stood up and kicked Duke right in the stomach. Duke yelped in pain but kept his teeth shut. He did not bite back, purely because he did not want to make things worse for me.

I lost my mind. I lunged forward and shoved Tyler away.

"Stop it."

Tyler used the momentum to throw himself onto the floor, wailing at the top of his lungs.

"Mom. Riley hit me. She hit me over a stupid dog."

Martha's face darkened into a storm. She stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a heavy wooden rolling pin, and started bringing it down on me.

"You little rebel. How dare you hit your brother."

One strike. Two strikes.

The heavy wood crashed against my back and arms. I curled into a tight ball, wrapping my body around my dog to protect his head.

Outside, thunder shook the apartment walls. The rain was torrential. Down in the streets, the guttural shrieks of the infected echoed through the concrete canyons.

Martha finally grew tired. Panting heavily, she pointed the rolling pin straight at the front door.

"Get out. Take your filthy animal and get the hell out of my house."

"I am not feeding a parasite, and I am sure as hell not feeding a useless mutt."

I looked up at her, my vision blurring.

"Mom, the streets are crawling with zombies. It is pouring rain. You want me to leave now? You are sending me to my death."

Martha grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. She possessed a terrifying, frantic strength. She dragged me and Duke across the living room floor, right to the entryway.

"Then go die outside. Stop wasting your brother's rations."

She yanked the deadbolts back, threw open the heavy metal door, and planted a foot in my side. I lost my balance and tumbled out into the freezing stairwell, taking Duke down with me.

Slam.

The heavy door shut tight. Then came the metallic grinding.

Click. Click.

Both deadbolts sliding into place.

I lay on the freezing concrete floor. Every bone in my body felt like it had been shattered. From the other side of the door, I could hear Tyler's muffled voice.

"Mom, her winter puffer coat is pretty thick. We should have stripped it off her before tossing her out."

Martha spat on the floor. "Bad luck. It is tainted with that dead girl's sickness. We do not want it."

Listening to that heartwarming family exchange, my tears completely dried up.

The stairwell was pitch black. The motion sensor lights had burned out weeks ago. A foul, icy draft blew up the shaft, bringing with it the sound of heavy, dragging footsteps from the floors below.

It was the sound of rubber soles scraping against concrete.

The rancid stench of rotting meat floated up through the gaps in the stairs.

The infected were in the building.

My blood ran cold. The blistering heat of my fever instantly morphed into a layer of freezing sweat.

I forced my shaking legs to stand and stumbled to the apartment door across from ours. I pounded my fists against the wood.

"Mrs. Higgins. Mrs. Higgins, open up, it is Riley. Please, just let me hide inside. I will stay right by the door."

Nobody answered.

But I could hear the panicked, rapid breathing on the other side. I heard the scraping of heavy furniture being dragged to barricade the door.

They heard me. They just did not want to save me.

The dragging footsteps below were getting louder. Closer.

A low, vibrating snarl echoed up the stairwell. It was the sound of a wild beast catching the scent of fresh prey.

Lightning flashed outside the corridor window. In that split second of blinding white light, I saw it. Down on the landing, a humanoid figure with only half a face was twisting its neck to look up at me. Its eyes were a milky, dead white. Its jaw was moving, still chewing on something unrecognizable.

It saw me.

My knees buckled. I almost dropped to the floor. It was over. I was a dead woman walking.

Suddenly, Duke bit down on the hem of my jeans and yanked me violently toward the upward stairs.

"Woof."

He barked. It was short, sharp, and commanded action. He did not charge down to fight. He was dragging me up toward the roof.

My survival instinct kicked back in. Yes. Go up. The infected had stiff, rigor-mortis joints. They were terrible at climbing stairs.

Ignoring the dizzying spin of my fever, I scrambled up the concrete steps on my hands and knees. The snarling below erupted into a frenzy. The zombie began slamming its body against the handrails, accelerating its climb.

I did not dare look back. My lungs felt like they were packed with burning coals.

Sixth floor. Seventh floor.

We hit the top landing. But the heavy metal door leading to the roof was sealed shut with a massive, rusted padlock.

Despair washed over me like a tidal wave. Locked.

The frantic footsteps behind me had already reached the sixth floor.

Duke let go of my jeans and threw his body against the padlock. It did nothing. He whipped his head around and started barking frantically at a pile of discarded renovation debris in the corner.

I looked over. Sticking out of the rubble was a rusted iron crowbar.

I threw myself at the pile, grabbed the cold iron, and jammed the wedged end right into the padlock's shackle. I put the entire weight of my body, all my rage, and every ounce of my will to live into that piece of metal.

Snap.

The rusty metal gave way. The lock burst open. The heavy door groaned on its hinges.

I shoved it open, tumbling out onto the tar roof with Duke right beside me. I kicked the door shut behind us and jammed the crowbar through the door handles, wedging it against the frame.

Bang.

A massive force slammed against the metal from the inside. It was the sound of a skull repeatedly bashing against steel. The door rattled violently. Dust and rust rained down.

I collapsed into a puddle on the roof, gasping for air. The freezing rain poured over me, soaking through my clothes and shocking my fever-hot skin, sending violent shivers down my spine.

I had survived. For now.

But I was trapped on a rooftop. No food. No water. Just an endless storm above and a swarm of monsters below.

I pulled Duke close, huddling under the concrete overhang of the building's water tank to escape the worst of the rain.

Right then, a window opened on the floor below.

Martha poked her head out. From her angle, she could see a corner of the roof. When she saw I was still breathing, a flash of genuine disappointment crossed her face.

Then, she started screaming.

"You little witch. You are still not dead? Are you hiding food up there? I knew it. I knew you were a greedy little rat hiding food while your brother starves."

"Throw it down here right now. Give it to Tyler, or I swear I will curse you to rot in hell."

Her shrill, piercing voice cut through the howling storm. The zombies inside the building heard her. They abandoned the roof door and began throwing themselves against the metal security gate of her apartment.

Terrified, Martha yanked her head back inside and slammed the window shut.

I stared at that closed window with dead eyes. The very last thread of affection I held for my family snapped. It was completely gone.

I stroked Duke's soaking wet fur. "It is just you and me now, buddy."

Duke licked the palm of my hand.

Suddenly, a mechanical voice echoed in my head. No, not my head. The voice was coming straight from Duke's mouth.

"System alert. Critical host vitality detected. Infinite Supply Search System has been bound."

I froze. Was the fever cooking my brain?

Duke looked up at me. His bright blue eyes were flashing with an unnatural, neon light. He stood up, trotted over to an abandoned planter box in the corner, and started digging at the dirt.

"System alert. Hidden supplies located. One sealed package of beef jerky. One bottle of mineral water."

I walked over, my legs trembling. I brushed away the wet mud and dead weeds.

A red plastic bag was buried there. Inside, exactly as the voice said, was a thick, vacuum-sealed stick of beef jerky and a fresh bottle of water. Someone must have stashed it up here before the world ended and forgot about it.

My hands shook as I ripped open the plastic. The smell of spiced meat hit my nose. I shoved it into my mouth, swallowing it down in massive chunks barely chewing.

A slow warmth began to spread through my freezing stomach.

I was going to live. I had Duke.

The rain poured through the night.

By dawn, the downpour had faded into a miserable drizzle. Thanks to Duke pressing his warm body against mine all night, my fever had actually broken.

Duke was standing near the edge of the roof, his ears pinned straight up, listening to the vibrations of the concrete.

"System alert. Three infected gathered on the third floor. Fifth floor secure. Human survivors moving on the fourth floor."

I understood immediately. Someone was coming up the stairs.

Before I could even stand, a violent crash echoed from the roof door. My makeshift crowbar lock was not secure enough. After a few heavy kicks, the metal door flew open.

Tyler stepped out, gripping a bloody machete. Behind him were two sketchy guys from the fifth floor. Local thugs who had a reputation for stealing even before the world went to hell.

Martha trailed behind them, her face twisted in a bitter scowl.

Tyler's eyes locked onto the empty jerky wrapper by my feet. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot.

"Mom. I told you she was hiding food. Look."

Martha let out a screech. She lunged toward me, raising her hand to slap my face.

"You heartless bitch. Your brother has been starving all day, and you are up here having a picnic. Do you have more? Hand it over."

The two thugs moved in, circling me with dirty smiles. Their eyes roamed up and down my shivering body.

"Well, well. The girl is looking a little pale, but she is still pretty enough."

I gripped my rusted crowbar tight and backed up against the roof's edge.

"There is nothing left. It was just one piece, and I found it up here."

Tyler did not believe a word of it. He stepped forward, reaching out to grab me.

"Bullshit. Take off your clothes. I am searching you myself."

Duke lunged. He moved like a blur, sinking his teeth right into Tyler's wrist.

"Ahhhh."

Tyler screamed in agony, dropping the machete. "Get this dead mutt off me."

He stumbled backward, clutching his bleeding arm. The two thugs exchanged a look, raised the heavy steel pipes they were carrying, and swung them down hard at Duke.

Duke was fast, but he was just a dog, and he was trying to stand between them and me.

Smack.

A steel pipe connected with Duke's back leg. The sickening crack of bone was loud enough to echo over the wind.

Duke let out a heartbreaking yelp and collapsed to the tar roof, his back leg twisted at a horrifying angle.

"Duke."

My vision went red. I raised the crowbar and charged forward, ready to kill them all.

One of the thugs simply raised his boot and kicked me square in the stomach. The force sent me flying backward. I crashed hard into the rusted metal railing, curling into a ball as the air left my lungs.

Tyler snatched his machete off the ground. He marched over with a vicious look in his eyes. He did not kill Duke. Instead, he took the flat side of the heavy blade and started bashing it against Duke's skull.

"Bite me again. Go on, bite me again."

Duke whimpered, blood dripping from his snout, but his bright blue eyes stayed locked onto Tyler in pure defiance.

Tyler turned his head toward me, his face glowing with a sick sense of revenge.

"Hey sis. That puffer jacket looks really warm. I think I will take it."

"You are going to die anyway. Be a shame to waste it."

He stepped up and violently yanked the zipper down. Martha stood on the sidelines, not only doing nothing to stop it, but cheering him on.

"Hurry up. Stop wasting time. It is freezing up here."

I fought back with everything I had, scratching my nails across Tyler's face, leaving a deep, bleeding trail.

"Get off me. You are a monster."

Tyler wiped the blood off his cheek and backhanded me hard across the jaw. My ears rang with a high-pitched whine. With the help of the two thugs, they pinned me down and physically ripped the winter coat off my body.

I was left in a thin, worn-out sweater. The biting winter wind instantly pierced right to my bones.

Tyler gleefully slipped my coat on. It still held my body heat. He patted the sleeves down with a look of disgust.

"Smells a little like wet dog, but it will do."

He stood over me, looking down at my bruised body and my crippled dog.

"Look at you. You are worse off than a stray animal. Just hug your stupid dog and wait to die."

Martha spat directly onto my face.

"Let's go. Leave this jinx to rot."

They turned to head back to the stairwell.

But right at that moment, an explosive sound echoed from the floor below. Then another. And another.

It was the sound of dozens of decaying hands slamming against metal.

The zombie horde had made it up the stairs.