EYEHEARTZOMBIES

Jeb twirled where he was crouched. The body still looked like it had looked when they brought him in. Or did it? The face looked different. When they had brought the man — Bob, right? — in, he had just looked… calm. Now his lips were snarled back and his eyes were definitely open and staring. The man’s chest was still, though. Just like it had been.

And the dead did NOT come back to life.

“Ginny, what?” He looked back over his shoulder at Virginia. She was still standing with her hands over her mouth. She had only screamed once, but he wasn’t sure she had breathed since. “Ginny, I don’t see nothin’.” Her eyes didn’t shrink back from the wide-eyed stare she was directing at Bob. Jeb turned back around. The body was still the same. Probably just stress and nerves gettin’ to her, after seeing two people get killed in here. He still couldn’t figure how that paramedic had been killed. But he was sure the dead didn’t come back to life. That was just… crazy.

The fingers twitched. Jeb jumped backward from the body, sitting down hard on the floor. “Wha — ?” The hand was still and Jeb crawled forward a few steps. It was still just laying there. Maybe it was that death thing. Rigid Mordus or whatever it was called. Yeah, that’d explain it. That Rigid thing was setting in and makin’ his body twitch and spasm as everything got all hard and immobile. Jeb chuckled a little. “I don’t think we have to worry ’bout nothin’, Ginny. It’s probably just Rigi — “

Bob’s head turned and he stared at the two library workers with wide-open eyes and snarling teeth, sucking air into his mouth quickly, snorting it out of his nose. His far shoulder followed his head and he was on hands and knees in a half-minute or less. His missing ear still dripped blood slowly, several drops spattering the floor with every motion.

“Jesus!” Jeb scrambled to his feet, stepping back and pushing Virginia behind him. “Jesus,” he cried again, hoping for any sort of intervention from anywhere. The man was dead, DEAD, and the dead didn’t come back. It was a one way street. Ginny was sobbing behind him, the shock turning into tears. What the hell did you do against the dead?

The man, still on his hands and knees, started crawling towards them. Jeb backed Virginia up further into the reading area, putting a table and its chairs between them and the… monster. The man’s eyes were almost solid white. Foamy drool fell from his lips and his tongue, which was hanging from the corner of his mouth a bit. He grunted and crawled faster for a few steps.

“You — you just stop, there,” Jeb said, his voice as authoritative as possible. “Just stop there and don’t come any closer.” The man kept coming, Jeb and Ginny kept backing away. “Hey, I said stop,” Jeb said, his voice shaking more and more. The man just smiled in that open-mouthed way and kept coming, now making a low, gutteral sound almost constantly. Ginny was still crying behind Jeb and he couldn’t figure out what to do with her.

The stairs! He’d get her upstairs. It’d be almost impossible for a man as heavy as Bob was to crawl up the stairs. And if he did, just push him off, right? If Ginny’s story was to believed, though, he’d have to be careful not to get bit or nothing. Well, it was worth a try. He started moving Ginny and himself toward the stairs.

There was a small iron staircase in the middle of the stacks that spiraled up to the second and third floors. Ginny squeaked when she backed into it. “Get up them stairs, Ginny,” Jeb said over his shoulder. He spoke kind of quietly to try and keep Bob from hearing, if he could even still hear, what their plan was. She nodded through the tears and started climbing. Her head topped the second landing and she looked back down to see that Jeb wasn’t following her.

“Jeb!” she half-hissed.

“You go’n up there, honey. I’ll be there in a bit. I’m gonna take care of this and then I’ll come on up there. Go’n now.” He looked up at her and smiled. Her face was streaked with tears, the shiny trails showing up even in the dimness of the library stacks. “Go on.” He said it softly this time, smiling and nodding at her. She nodded back and kept climbing.

When she was safely on the second floor, Jeb looked back down at the man crawling toward them. He was at the entrance to the rows of bookshelves, still slobbering and making that grunty growling sound. The stacks were pretty barren of anything but books. A few bookends and stepstools where all Jeb could think of that he might find. He decided to try his luck elsewhere.

Jeb turned and ran back along the row until he came to a crossing row. He turned to the left, trying to get nearer to the front of the library where he’d have more light and probably more weapons. He couldn’t believe he was looking for weapons in a library! He passed a few rows, then a few more, wanting to be sure and come out on a clear aisle, one without a reanimated fat man waiting on him. He heard a coughing sound coming faintly from back in the library. Good, he was in the clear. He turned left again and was back in the reading area in no time.

He quickly scanned the room. Tables, chairs, a few books. A small bust of some writer stood on top of one of the reading tables. An oil lamp, with no oil, on another, and various other objects on the others. There was a glass-fronted cabinet near the front that held different objects each month. This month was a collection of stuffed toys, mostly teddy bears. That wouldn’t do much good. But what would?

A brass flagpole stood near the front doors, the state and country flags hanging limply from it. The pole would work, but he didn’t know if he could get it off the heavy base. “Shit,” he said, quietly. He ran to the front, deciding to try the flagpole first.

It wasn’t a giant flagpole, standing only ten or twelve feet tall at the brass eagle. The base was short and flat, but weighted down to keep kids from tipping it over easily. It probably weighted forty or fifty pounds on its own, the pole adding another ten or fifteen. All together, way too heavy to use easily. Jeb tipped the pole forward into the library and kicked at the base. He had put it together just a few years ago and he remembered that it wasn’t all one piece. The bottom snapped on and secured with some heavy-duty glue. Maybe he could break it off.

A few kicks and he could feel it starting to give. He picked the pole and base up and slammed it onto the tile floor at an angle. A mightly clang rang out into the echoey library, but the base stayed affixed. He tried again and could hear the fat corpse hobbling through the aisles of books. He wouldn’t have long. He slammed it down again and heard a crack. One of the tiles had snapped in two, but the base was starting to come off. A fourth try and it was visibly coming apart. He kicked a few more times and the pole came free of its weighted base. The flags were attached with carabiner-like hooks, so a couple of seconds later they were disconnected and laying over the circulation desk.

Jeb turned back into the library proper, led by the brass eagle. Bob was just coming out of the bookshelves, now crouched over and standing on two feet. He seemed to be getting stronger, but Jeb wasn’t sure. What could anyone be sure of when the dead started walking? Bob stood more erect for a moment, sucking in air, then turned until he was facing Jeb. He grunted again and started walking, a slow shamble.

The reading area was between the two men, a couple of tables and their chairs directly in the way. Jeb moved forward, putting one of the tables almost directly against his stomach. He’d try to keep one of those between him and this monster if he could. Any extra protection was very welcome. Bob kept sniffing and adjusting his course, staying almost directly in line with Jeb. He bumped into the far table and bounced off, startled. He growled and reached his hands down to grab at the table.