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DEADLINES: AN ANTHOLOGY OF HORROR AND DARK FICTION, will be released in November of 2008! Visit www.cometpress.us

Suburbia's End
by Elijah J. Brown

A young man lies bleeding to death; propped against a cookie cutter house in what was white suburbia. The bottom portion of his right leg is missing, shotgun blast. Half the fingers on his left hand are gone, eaten. He has multiple chest wounds and a badly bleeding laceration above his right ear.

He stares motionlessly watching wave after wave of mutated human crash against the blades of a man dressed all in black. Even his eyes are hidden; a perfect shadow. The twin blades he uses to destroy the countless enemies are also a flat black; only the blood gleams.

"Beautiful," The young dying man whispers.

He watches the man in black. Studying his movement, his perfect form; he exerts nothing in killing these beasts. They are too predictable; they have no grace, no stealth. Not one of them, twenty of them could get even an inch in on him.

There are two children behind the lethal shadow; one boy, one girl, both are screaming. They are backed into a corner of the same cookie cutter home that the young man bleeds to death on; he lies nearly 15 feet away from them. The girl reaches out toward the young man; her eyes wide, screaming "Caleb, no!" The young bleeding man grips a pistol in his right hand, it has one bullet left; his bullet.

That is if he doesn't bleed to death before he finds the need to use it.

-1-

"Dinner is ready, Caleb." His mother stands at the door of his bedroom.

"Ok Mom." Caleb replies; he sits at his desk finishing a chemistry paper.

"Get your sister too," his mother adds.

"Ok." Caleb rises and exits his room to fetch his younger sister, Josie.

This, one of many families together in white suburban- cookie cutter homes as far as the eye can see, the American dream it would seem; a dream that will soon come to a horrific end.

As the family gets ready to sit down the father gets up to turn the TV off when the news announcer starts speaking about an apparent epidemic.

"All over the U.S. people are being affected by what is believed to be a chemical agent- possibly a neurotoxin, introduced to the water supply. What the chemical is exactly is not known but the symptoms appear to be the same: Amnesia, extreme hostility, paranoia and self mutilation. The affected people are considered to be very dangerous..."

"Wow, do you hear this hun?" said the Father; staring intently at the set.

"What's that George?" inquires the misses, busy setting the table.

"Some kind of...epidemic... the poor bastards; looks like a terrorist attack."

"Oh," not really hearing what he's saying; a talent that is learned after years of marriage known as 'selective hearing.'

"Hmm," says the father, and kills the tube.

-2-

It has been two months since the initial outbreak began.

The United States has been at war with nearly all of the Middle East since the year 2003, it is now 2010. It's no secret that 'sleeper cells' have been operating within the U.S.

Some of these sleeper cells have been working at an organized attempt to poison the water supply of many of the U.S. cities. These 'cells' have been given large quantities of a specialized nerve agent designed to render the victim to a comatose state; but the agent was never properly tested as to how it would react to an external environment. The reaction was like nothing that had ever been seen. The affected people were reduced to an animalistic state; but worse than animals. These are humans twisted to knowing only anger and hunger and lust.

A war-like tribal state; they wear the skins of men and animals with indifference. They cut and pierce their flesh and paint themselves with blood. Their victims are skinned, raped, eaten and killed and in no particular order.

Over half of the populous of the United States has been reduced to this.

"Well then; what the hell do you want to call them if you don't want to call them zombies?" a young man of about eighteen asks another, both dressed in baggy blue jeans and t-shirts.

"I don't know John...infected, affected... jerks...something. They don't apply to the zombie title, they don't eat brains. And they aren't 'undead' they're just... messed up," Caleb says as he keeps watch-out through the blinds of the living room window; it's getting dark.

"Ghoul has always been a favorite of mine," a young girl chimes in; she might be as old as eight. She wears a tattered yellow sweater with a t-shirt underneath and stonewash blue jeans. She sits comfortably in a large E-Z chair with a coloring book and crayons.

"Josie has a point; Ghoul aint bad, it doesn't imply brain-eating and how sure are you that they don't eat brains anyway? The news guy said that they eat people... What the hell does ghoul mean anyway?" John looks confused.

"I just saw it on cartoons," Josie says.

"And since when do you have to eat brains to be a zombie anyway? ...That's it I'm lookin it up." John storms out of the room apparently in the search for a Webster's.

The room is silent for a moment.

"Do you have to go back out?" Josie asks, sounding concerned for her big brother.

"We need supplies, were low on a lot of stuff; don't worry they're pretty stupid and I'm pretty fast... Besides, you don't like me anyway." He smiles at his sister.

"Oh, yeah that's right." She continues coloring.

Caleb is proud of his little sister's strength. He thinks that he would have been crushed by all of this if it had happened to him at her age.

Caleb stands watching out the window, more in hopes of seeing his and Josie's parents returning home than anything else. But he has little belief in the reality of that. If they were to return they would have by now, he knows that; and he thinks that Josie does too. "But poor John" Caleb thinks, "to have to see it."

"Ok, here it is." John walks back into the living room with dictionary in hand.

"Zombie: The body of a dead person given the semblance of life but mute and will-less, by a supernatural force, usually for some evil purpose..."

John thinks for a moment. "Well I guess they're not zombies then huh...so what do you want to call them." John lets the book fall to his side.

"I dunno just... things I suppose, they aren't people; not anymore."

Caleb sits on the couch at his side now.

"Things... works; And it probably was for an evil purpose so I wasn't totally wrong." John says as he joins Caleb on the couch. They sit in silence.

-3-

The next morning Caleb prepares to go into town to get supplies, John protests that he has to stay and watch Josie; but there is no one else and she cannot be left alone.

Caleb moves on foot, they aren't moving about much during the day; but they are out there. He has a pistol strapped to his side that he found in his parents room; and a large hiking backpack on his back, empty.

He has to go out farther and farther every time. He goes from house to house raiding kitchens for food still good, canned stuff mostly. Luckily all the houses are empty; at least they have been so far. He's already used up all the houses on their street, today he decides to go to the left and start working on the street up from there.

There are lots abandoned cars but they are usually locked and hard to get into, and even if he were to manage hotwiring one- he would have no place to drive it to.

Caleb wants to yell "Hello" but decides against it, the things might hear him.

He walks into what was the Johnson's home. He walks slowly, carefully, lightly; it's dark in many places.

The house is picturesque; he takes out his flashlight and highlights the corners, making sure. When he nears the kitchen he wiggles off the backpack and opens it up. He fills it with all their cans, not caring much what they are.

He keeps his head on a swivel, he only ever saw one of the things; and that was enough.

Donning the backpack again and heading out the door, he notices a plume of smoke on the distant horizon. He freezes, watching the thick black smoke rise.

"That's downtown." He thinks to himself.

"Four, five miles away; what- who could have started a fire? The government; cleaning up, maybe trying to signal us. Or those things; burning down the town?"

"Was bigger."

Caleb nearly jumps out of his skin. Grabbing for his pistol he gets it half-way out of its sheath as he spins to his right, the heavy cans pull him to the ground.

"The fire... was bigger; few days ago anyway." A young boy stands near Caleb; the boy might be eight or nine, a little older than Josie. Clearly he's amused by Caleb's jumpiness; he smiles and says "I'm Ron." The boy is rather well dress and seemingly well fed for the circumstances.

Still on the floor Caleb finally takes a breath and replies "I'm Caleb."

There is a moment of silence.

"Are you alone, Ron?" Caleb asks.

"Not really, my brother's here... somewhere." The child looks all around to no avail.

"We have room at my house if you and your brother need a place to stay." Caleb gestures up the street. "There are only three of us, with you and your brother it will make five, not bad," Caleb adds and smiles at the boy.

"Ok, we've been just wandering for a while. I haven't seen any normal people in a long while; let's go," Ron says.

"What about your brother?" Caleb asked.

"He'll follow, he always does," Ron says, not seeming worried.

Caleb begins to wonder about this boy's brother, thinking that maybe the boy has created an imaginary companion to help him through this tragedy.

"Well Ron, our house is just up the street from here." Caleb and Ron walk to the house chatting idly along the way.

They have no idea that something follows them from the shadows, silent and fast. It moves with machinelike precision and catlike grace. It keeps just close enough to react if need be but distant enough not to be heard or seen.

-4-

Now night has fallen and Caleb has gone to bed leaving John in charge.

The small family of orphans bans together, feasting on Caleb's bountiful harvest of canned goods. They eat and talk by candle light.

The black figure crouches outside the house; just below the window that looks into the living room- it stands guard motionless, statuesque. It can hear the distant motion and waits; the things are closer than ever.

"What time is it?" Josie asks, beginning to feel the weight of the night.

"Almost twelve," John replies beginning to feel a bit tired himself.

"Wow, we haven't stayed up this late since all this started. It looks like Ron has about had it," Josie says watching Ron sleep in his seat at the table.

John takes Ron to his bed and tucks him in. Josie decides to head off herself.

John sits alone in the living room keeping watch out the window. Sipping coffee; he notices only a faint orange-red glow on the horizon.

What once was downtown is a swarm of the things. The city center is all chaos and fire, there are no people left alive.

The things hunt in groups but have no organized center. Like packs of wild dogs; only held together by the instinctual belief of strength in numbers. Only the infected men are left at this point, the women infected were too weak to fend off the merciless attacks of their male counterparts. This seems to be the only instance in which the things will kill each other.

The men don't seem to kill each other; they fight amongst themselves like starving dogs do, but not kill.

Running out of food they begin to reach out to the surrounding areas; edging closer and closer to Caleb and the others.

They are many and they are hungry.

-5-

The following morning; the sun has risen but Ron still lays dreaming about his older brother Jeff, and their parents. He remembers that day very well. He remembers hearing noises from his parent's room, screams and howls. His brother went to see what was wrong; and when he came out, he said the only words he has spoken since.

"Our parents are dead." His voice, flat, robotic, and empty; eyes the same and contained no tears or hate, just nothing.

"Our parents are dead." Ron awakes speaking the words.

The children sit at the breakfast table eating cereal stolen from the neighboring houses, it's a bit stale and they only have water to moisten it with or nothing at all. Josie sits nibbling at her dry cereal and coloring in her book. John and Caleb watch over them.

"Ron, what's your last name?" Caleb asks.

"Hazel," says Ron and adds, "My brother and I both went to school around here, you guys might know him."

John perks up and says, "Hey, I did hear about your brother. He was really good at gymnastics and stuff, right?"

"Yeah, and was doing karate since he was about my age too; I just started before all...this. Too bad, I liked it." He continues eating his cereal, he has his with water.

"Well...uh, where is he?" John asks.

"He's around... probably watchin' us right now." Ron seems to be the only one not a little freaked out by that idea. He goes on at his cereal, while the others stew in silence.

"Huh," Josie added, only lightly tuned into the conversation, not pausing her coloring.

John and Caleb trade concerned/confused glances and continue their business.

But the boy was right, something does watch from the shadows; something that was human, something that once was called Jeff.

"Stay here Ron." A fit, slender young man of nearly 22 tells his younger brother to stay put in the kitchen as he inspects the disturbance in their parent's bedroom. Inhuman shrieks are coming from within; Jeff approaches cautiously, holding a kitchen knife. He opens their door slowly, quietly saying "Dad?"

Ron is concerned, the news people had said that there were incidents of people changing and attacking other people. Maybe one of 'them' had broken in and attacked their parents.

Jeff is ready for it, well trained- schooled in martial arts from nearly an infantile age. He enters crouched low; the room is dark. He sees nothing; no movement, but someone lies limp and mangled on the bed. He whispers "mom?" He can see stains on the sheets. No movement, then something jumps on him from behind, he slashes before he can think, the things throat is cut; he leaps in and finishes it.

-6-

Night falls on an uneventful day; it doesn't mind. The orphans don't mind either, they have grown accustom to this life. Boring as it is, it is still life and they are thankful for it.

They all relax; but the Shadow stands rigid just outside their walls. "They are coming here, tonight." It has pondered this all day and now it knows. The things are coming right for them, not terribly fast; but they are coming. And there sounds to be many. They most likely have not eaten in days; and judging by what they feast upon, this means trouble for his brother and the others.

He decides to go to them, see what kind of threat they really pose. How many there are for sure, and how many he can reduce them to before they get to the house.

They only stand maybe half a mile away right now, the ground tells him so. He moves, staying in the shadow; becoming the shadow.

He stops and climbs a house that sits nearly fifty yards from the pack of things. They move with the street, following the pavement as if it were laid for them; directing them to bliss.

They move with a blind determination and are perhaps forty in number. The Shadow decides to circle behind the herd and clip some of the slower ones.

It never hears him coming and barely feels a thing. He slices it's head clean off in a single fluid motion. The head still attached as the thing falls; he grips it by the hair and grabs the body under the arms to lower both head and body quietly to the pavement. He then repeats his approach to the back of the heard.

Over and over he attacks the heard from the back. He drops ten before the head of the pack reaches the street that the orphans live on- Mayberry. It isn't a terrible difference in the overall number of the group; but at least he won't have to deal with them later. When they reach Mayberry; the Shadow runs back to the house.

Reaching the house the Shadow kneels before the window and taps the glass with a blade, three times. Looking behind; the Shadow sees the heard round the corner and begin their approach. They haven't noticed that there's life here yet, they will soon.

-7-

Caleb hears the taps and, bewildered he comes to the window- looking out he can clearly see the mob of creatures moving in the darkness; approaching them.

"Shit."

"What?" John asks hearing the fear in Caleb's voice.

"Shit...uh...shit. Start barricading the windows, and blow out the candles."

"I knew we should have done this before." Caleb spins about the living room shuffling furniture toward the windows.

"What's goin on?" asks Josie.

John looks out the window, his mouth says nothing but his eyes speak volumes.

"John, go get the guns." Caleb tries to keep his cool speaking slowly and deliberately, his hand on John shoulder.

"Okay," John says and bolts out of the room; his mouth still hangs open in a terrified awe.

Luckily Caleb had thought to search all the neighboring houses for weaponry while he searched them for food.

John is shuffling about the garage trying to find something to wrap the pile of weapons in; they rest on the floor near the door that separates the garage from the backyard. Finally he finds a tarp and rips it away from whatever it was wrapping. Spinning around to gather the weapons he looks up to see something in the backyard. One of the things stares at him with a chilling gaze, totally nude save for some blood smeared on its face. It grips the limp body of what a might be a cat or a rabbit in its left hand, dripping with blood. It stands staring at him for only a second, grunting. The thing then bolts forward in a howling rage, John stumbles and falls.

Just before the thing clears the doorway it falls in two. It's been cleaved from where its right shoulder meets its neck to where its hip begins on its left side. Its expression never changed; its face remains twisted with anger even as it slides in half. Its upper half comes to rest at John's feet.

John looks up to see a black figure standing in the doorway wiping off a equally black blade, and placing it in a sheath on its back where the blade crosses another just like it. The figure nods at John then turns and walks away.

John, after a moment remembers the dire situation that he and the others are in gathers the weapons up into the tarp and hurries back inside.

"I got the guns and stuff and, hey I think there's a Ninja around here somewhere; I don't think he's like a bad guy but..." John stuttered.

"Ya... help me with the couch," Caleb says, not hearing a word.

"Seriously dude a ninja just killed one of those..." John decides to give up.

As hard as John tried to plead his case, Caleb couldn't listen. Understandably he's more concerned about the oncoming slaughter that he and the rest of them face.

"Start with the rifles, pop off as many distance shots as you can. As they move in closer move to the shotguns. And if we get down to the pistols- go for head shots, I'm afraid that anything else will just piss them of." Caleb tosses John a rifle and takes his position leaning against the couch propped in front of the living room window. Most of the window is blocked but he finds a decent hole large enough for him to see and shoot. Using the barrel he knocks out the glass.

John turns to Josie and Ron and tells them to go upstairs to Josie's room and lock the door. John then settles into his own firing position which utilizes the kitchen window.

The beasts lurch forward; One at the front pauses and sniffs the air.

-8-

The inevitable battle ensues; Caleb and John continuously fire into the oncoming crowd. They are poor marksman and don't see the others sweep around behind the house.

The Shadow goes up to the children to ensure their safety, leaving Caleb and John to fend for themselves.

Caleb hears the movement behind him just before the thing leaps knocking the shotgun to his side. The gun twists in his hand as he falls and fires nearly severing his leg below the knee.

As he falls backward he reaches out to defend himself from the things advance, it catches his left hand in its mouth and makes quick work of his pinky and ring fingers.

John barely manages to escape one of his opponents and runs to help Caleb. He kicks the monster off him and shoots the beast in the face. John pulls the couch from the wall and drags Caleb out the window. Caleb, having dropped the shotgun grabs a pistol on his way out.

Moments later, John is missing and Caleb is badly bleeding lying against the house just under the living room window clutching the pistol which has one last round in its chamber. At the moment the monsters aren't interested in him, they have their hands full with the Shadow who needed to escape Josie's small room. The creatures forced him to try and climb to the roof with the two small children clinging to him. Josie lost her grip and fell to the ground. The Shadow leapt to her aid, seeing the things advancing on her.

The last thing that Caleb sees before fading into darkness is the Shadow throwing a small round thing to the ground that, upon impact explodes with smoke. When the smoke clears the Shadow and the children are gone.