Dead Meat | Day 8

suit. Iver slams the door, but a woman swoops in from the side and manages to stick her arm through at the last possible second.
“Fuck!” Iver shouts, using his shoulder to press against the door. “Help me, Leif!”
Leif leans in with all his weight, causing the door to make a crunching sound, as though the wood is about to break. The woman’s arm is squeezed like pastry, her fingers grabbing eagerly at the air, while several more hands are squeezing through.
“You stay the fuck back!” Chris’s voice roars from the other side. “Get away from me!”
The rifle goes off with a deafening bang as Chris apparently managed to get to it before the zombies got to him. Then he begins screaming.
“No, let go! Get back you! Aaargh!”
In a matter of seconds, Chris’s screams turn silent, drowned out by the groans and moans from the army of deads swarming the garage.
“It’s no use!” Iver croaks, still holding the door. “We won’t get it shut! We’ll have to make a run for it!”
“Where to?” Leif says, looking back through the hallway. “They’re all around the house, we can’t get out!”
“Upstairs!” Iver says.
“But we’ll be—”
“It’s our only chance right now!”
“Right.”
The pressure from the zombies is growing as more and more of them are pushing against the door, and Iver can feel it starting to slip inch by inch.
“You ready?” he shouts, darting a look back to see Charlotte suddenly standing there, glaring at them wide-eyed. “We run on the count of three! Get out of the way, Charlotte!”
Leif nods, sweat dripping from his brow, his cheeks burning red from exhaustion.
“One … two … three!”
Iver and Leif turn and run in perfect unison, the door bursting open and the zombies spilling in, tumbling over each other like customers at a Black Friday sale, buying Iver and Leif a few precious seconds to reach the kitchen.
As Iver passes Charlotte, she still hasn’t moved, so he grabs her and pulls her along. In the kitchen, Leif stops and looks around.
“What are you doing?” Iver calls out. “Come on!”
“Knives!” Leif says. “We’ll need something to defend ourselves with …”
“There’s no time! Charlotte, come on, damnit!”
But Charlotte has pulled herself free and is heading for the hall where the door to the basement is—maybe she figures she’ll be safer down there, maybe she’s just caught up in blind panic. Whatever the case, Charlotte only makes it to the corner of the kitchen counter when the first zombie comes staggering into the room, reaches out and grabs her. Charlotte screams as it digs its teeth into her shoulder.
“Fuck!” Iver shouts, then heads for the stairs, the sounds of the zombies growing louder from behind, drowning out Charlotte’s dying screams.
Leif follows him upstairs, the weight of him making the steps shake.
At the top they meet Agnete, standing in her nightclothes with Adam on her arm. Both of them look shocked and confused.
“Are they in?” Agnete asks.
“Yes,” Iver says simply. “Get back inside the bedroom and lock the door.”
Agnete turns around and goes back inside the room, then, before closing the door, she looks at Iver: “What about you and the others?”
“It’s just me and Leif,” Iver says as Leif comes up the stairs. “We’ll take the kid’s room.”
Agnete nods, closing the door.
Iver points Leif into the kid’s room and follows him, slamming the door and twisting the key.
“Holy hell,” Leif breathes, slumping down onto the armchair in the corner, flattening a teddy bear without noticing. “That went really bad …”
“I know,” Iver says, rubbing his temples and feeling his pulse bang away on the inside of his skull. “Damnit, I should have guessed it sooner …”
Leif shakes his head, his cheeks wobbling. “You had no way of knowing they would do that … Christ, I still can’t believe she just left.”
The zombies have made it up the stairs, and now they reach the door and begin scraping on the outside. Iver looks at it anxiously. The handle bops up and down as someone touches it—probably by coincidence.
“It’ll hold,” Leif says. “At least for now.”
“Yeah, but we’ll have to figure out a way to get out again,” Iver says, striding to the window. He opens it and lets in the cool night air.
Looking down he sees what looks like an audience at a rock concert; several dozen zombies are gathered around the house, stomping around in Agnete’s flower beds.
“God,” he mutters. “It’s like they’re drawn to us …”
Leif moans.
“Well, there’s no way we’re getting out the window,” Iver says, closing it again. “We’ll have to think of something else … any ideas?”
Leif just shakes his head.
Iver goes to the door. The zombies—obviously sensing him getting closer—scratch and moan more eagerly. “Agnete?” he calls. “Can you hear me?”
The bedroom is straight across the hallway, so they should be able to communicate.
A couple of seconds pass by. Then her voice comes through the noise of the zombies: “I can. Are you okay in there?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. How about you?”
“The same. The door seems to hold them.”
“Good. That’s good. But, listen, we’ll have to find some way of getting out of here. Can you check the window and see if they are below your room as well?”
“Hold on a minute.”
Leif moans again.
Iver looks over at him. “What is it, Leif?”
The big guy just sits there, holding his thick wrist. Even from over here, Iver can see the three red lines running across the skin.
“Oh, no,” Iver breathes. “Don’t tell me that’s …” He can’t finish the sentence.
Leif looks up at Iver, his face pale. “I think … I think they got me.”

THREE
“Why did you lie to him?”
Dan looks at Liv as she puts the van in gear and drives on down the empty highway.
“Why did you say you’re coming alone?”
Dan shrugs. “I just think it’s best he doesn’t know you’re here.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised him I wouldn’t bring anybody else.”
“So what, am I just going to wait in the car?”
“Just until I’ve convinced him he can trust me.”
Liv nods, though she