Me and Matty

Me and Matty went into a house today. One of the neighbors houses, it was the first time for us, being in a neighbors home. I guess it was because I never took the time to get to know our neighbors like I should, now its too late. So I can’t tell you if they were good people or not, I wouldn’t even be able to tell you there last name was Ross, if it wasn’t for the fact it was stenciled on the side of the mailbox. I leave Matty in the car with the keys, I taught him how to driver just before all this started. He’ll never get his licence but he know how to move it from one place to the other. The rules of the road don’t matter anymore, so that’s all he needs. I go in first with the gun to make sure everything is clear. The front doors unlocked and slight open, a bad sign. Something told me to jump back into the car and go. That’s what my gut told me but my mind told me we were out of food. That Matty was starving, and we needed whatever was inside this house to survive. It had been days since we’d seen any infected, they followed everyone else out of town, or at least that’s how it looked from the window of out attic.

When the four words that ended the world first appeared on our newspaper it was like a switch had gone off inside my dad. Until that point he had been like the rest of America. Sitting back ignoring the problem, assured in his delusion that it would all just go away on its own. Why shouldn’t he have thought that way. We all lived through them, those faux doomsday scares, Mad cow, bird flue, H1N1. The news always blue these thing out of per portion. That’s why nobody battered an eye when the super flu became the campion virus. Even with death towels doubling over night we weren’t fazed. It was just the latest scare to keep us glued to our screens and buying what ever they told us to buy. Once my dad read those headlines he was just a completely different person. I remember the screech of the tires as he drove away with mom to the store. Which I thought was odd because we had plenty of food, mom just went shopping two days before. I was left to watch Matty while they were gone.

Against every instinct in my body I went in. I expected the place to be ransacked but it wasn’t. It was pristine, like the owners had just stepped out for minuet. Like none of this had ever happened. It was so beautiful, it was house, the way a house should look, not like ours. I got so lost in the fantasy of that place that I must have been lacks in my search. I was sure I checked every room, it looked so clear, it wasn’t but it looked so clear. So clear that I brought Matty in from the car. I locked the front door after us, and we split up to look for supplies. Matty heads up stairs while I go into the basement. I wanted Matty to go with me, but he’s still afraid of the dark so I go down alone. After digging around in that basement to avail I finally hit pay dirt. Several large plastic bins, hidden behind some boxes and their each labeled as tornado supplies.
 
As I look at those beautiful bins I suddenly remember my mom screaming at my dad. He’s unloaded crate after crate of canned food and bottled water from the back of our mini van. I didn’t really hear everything she was saying back then but I got the jest of it. It seams that my dad had whipped out our bank accounts on that trip to the store. I’d never seen my mom yell at my dad like that before, but it was like he could hear her. He just kept unloading box’s out of the car. For the next two days while the rest of us, me, my mom and Matty say glued to the tv watching the news reports get worse and worse with each passing hour. My dad never stopped moving. By the second day he had cleaned out all the stuff from the attic, throwing most of it into a big pile in the back yard, and instead filled it to the brim with food and water. We had one of those old style attic’s with the pull down ladders. My dad had always forbidden me or Matty from going up there, now all he kept saying was we had to get up in the attic. Mom and dad fought a lot during those two days. Then Las Vegas fell, after that mom never yelled at my dad over money again.

Maybe it was the serenity of that house, or maybe it was the dream of everything that was waiting for me inside those bins. But what it was, it made me forget about the reality of the situation we were in. I put my gun down on th edge of this work bench, just so I can start tearing through these bins. They were everything I hoped they would be. Canned food and bottled water, so many I can’t count. More then enough to keep us happy back in the attic for days, no weeks to come. There were many other goodies too, flashlights and plenty of batteries for them so Matty wont get so scared at night. Sleeping bags to keep us warm, and even one of those hand crank radios. God it had been so long since we heard any news. There is everything we need here, but I don’t get to finish looking threw them. Because halfway through the third bin I here something not only makes drop everything, but also makes my heart stop. It’s a scream, it’s Matty’s scream, I’ve heard it so many times I would know it anywhere. I run, with out even a second thought I run up those stairs so fast. So fast and I find the room where the screams coming from. As I bust in through the door with all my force, that’s when I realize it, that I left the gun in the fucking basement.

It was dad’s gun, I don’t know if he had gotten it after things went bad or if he’d always had it. The first time I saw it though was the last time I saw him. Things had only gotten worse since Vegas. It was like every one in the country had lost their minds. Riots, lotting, rape, murder all before the infected ever reached us. The police here all ran out of ammo after a big show down with armed looters the day before the infected were suppose to reach us. All I remember my dad saying was how stupid everyone is. If they had all just worked together the cops and the people with guns could have kept the infected at bay. Instead they destroyed each other, dooming us all right off the bat. By the time the infected started showing up there was no shooting anymore, all the bullets were long gone by this point. It was shear panic at this point, and dad rushed me and Matty into the attic. Him and mom were suppose to follow but there was a noise outside. Dad went to check on it. He told mom to stay with us but she didn’t listen. She never did listen to anything dad had to say. I pulled up the ladder like dad said. Me and Matty just waiting with our ears against the floor listening for any sound. The attic was well insulated so all we could hear were muffled whispers and light taps. Then it came, a loud BANG that sounded almost like fire works. Followed by two more BANG... BANG and a long silence. It was what felt like hours later until we heard the knock on the attic door. Dad’s knock that he had taught us when we were kids, so that we would never open the door to strangers. I pushed the ladder down but no one comes up. Finally after to long a wait I go down, telling Matty to wait there. What I find is me dad, half bleed out with a large bit mark on his neck. I rush to his side but before I can do anything he thrusts the gun into my hands. I already know the score mom’s dead and dad’s not far behind her. I’m not a kid like Matty, I except the reality of what’s going on. Even if there was some way to stitch up dad’s neck, not that we had one, once you’re bit you die. I look into my dads eyes and he knows this, and I know this. All the same I just want to throw my arms around him and cry begging it to be alright. But I can’t, not anymore. The moment he pushed that gun into my hands I ceased being a kid and became a man. One look from my dad and I knew what I had to do. The last words my dad said before I pulled the trigger were, “Take care of Matty”.



Now I even failed at that. By the time I came busting through the door she was already on top of him. She had Matty pined to the floor, as she sat on his chest. Decayed yellow teeth with bits of flesh between them just a hairs breath from Matty’s face. Then I see he’s holding her head back. He has a huge lock of her grease blood stained hair and he’s holding her head back with all his might. There’s something laying in front of me. It looks like the leg of chair that had been broken off. I pick it up off the ground and I rush to his side. Matty see’s me and starts calling my name, begging me to help him. I raise the chair leg over my head and I swing it down on her head with all my might. This is where I fuck up for the second time today. When I hit her in the back of the head I also hit Matty’s hand. He lets go and her hair slides through his fingers as she sinks her teeth deep into his shoulder.

Me and Matty never use to get along before all this happened. I was the older brother who always got stuck looking after my younger brother. I always got the harsh punishment while Matty always seamed to get away with murder. I was left with all the responsibilities while Matty could just goof off. It goes with out saying I felt a little bit less then good will towards him. I would always complain about having to watch him, it never seamed fair, and we would always get into fights. It wasn’t until after it was just the two of us that i finally got it. I wasn’t being punished because Matty was the favorite. I was being rewarded because I was the responsible one, I was the one my parents trusted. And now I was the only one Matty had, just like he was the only one I had.

I don’t recall much after she bit him, it was like my mind shut down. All I can remember is counting the swings. Thirty, I hit her in the back of the head thirty times with the chair leg before she finally went limp. Then twenty three more until the leg finally broke. So fifty three times, I hit her fifty three times with out thinking. I probably would have kept wailing on her with my bare fists if Matty hadn’t reached out and grabbed the cuff of my pant leg to stop me. I’ve put Matty to bed now in the other room. Do you want to know what he said to me before I came in here to write this. He told me the very same words I told him after dad died. When I made him swear that if I got bit, to shot me before I turn. My twelve year old little brother laid there and told me he wanted to die. Most kids would be terrified out of their minds right now, and death would be the furthest thing from their minds. It should be the furthest from his, he has his whole life ahead of him. And yet he makes me swear to kill him. I try to tell him no, to convince him there is another way. But I never could win an argument with Matty. Now I have to say goodbye, goodby Matty. You’re with mom and dad, and I’ll be with you all soon.