The church was ablaze. Pews were lakes of fire, blackened bodies slumped over benches like decayed stuffed animals. A priest with flamed robes bellowed in pain, his screams mingling with the shrieks of the undead. To our right was a large iron cage with the door ajar. My eyes watered from the smoke. Evelina touched my shoulder and I jumped. “I thought you were one of them!” I shouted over the roar of the fire and shrieks of the zombies. “We should see if there are any survivors. There are rooms in the back of the church.” Evelina walked through the smoke and fire, motioning for me to follow. “Are you crazy?” I yelled after her but followed anyway. “How do you know there are rooms back there?” I admit it was a strange question under the circumstances. “I used to sneak in here and have sex with one of the priests,” Evelina yelled back over her shoulder, dodging a zombie at the same time. He moan-howled, his head in flames. “I really want to hear that story sometime soon but right now we gotta dodge the dead. Onward!” I shouted, pointing with my hand like it was a sword. We moved through the pews, smoking bellowing around us, choking us. At the back near the dais, a giant red curtain strapped to the top of the ceiling caught fire. Evelina found an invisible slit in the curtains and pulled them apart, revealing a wooden door. She burst through it and disappeared down a dark hallway. I followed closely. We checked three rooms with no luck. Same with a small kitchen. The fire hadn’t spread to the back of the church yet and I just hoped that there was an exit somewhere. The last room we arrived at was locked. Evelina didn’t wait for anyone to answer. She kicked the door in, her powerful leg splitting the wood near the lock. An old lady crouched near a bed, knife in hand, jabbing at something underneath. “You’re going to hell!” The old woman shrieked. “Umm, would you like some help?” I asked, not sure what to make of the situation. “Brother Michael was caught last night fornicating with one of the undead children. I’m sending him to hell!” She bared her teeth at us, drool dripping down her lip. Alright. I’d had enough. I looked around the room. Next to a framed old sepia photograph of a young nun was a lit candle. I grabbed it and flung it at them. First the old lady and then the bed caught on fire, followed closely by a shadowy figure underneath. Evelina and I stood and watched in fascination. We finally backed out of the room and shut the door. “I understand why you’d light the priest on fire, but why Lady Macbeth?” Evelina asked, her hair damp and matted to her forehead. “Eh, she was as good as dead anyway with that zombie horde outside. I just helped her out.” We found a door to the outside world and exited the church.
Outside the church, everything is right in the world. Maybe it’s only that I just escaped the inferno inside. Evelina and I back away from the building as the smoke begins flowing out of the exit. That’s when I realized I was shivering. My teeth clatter. I glace at Evelina. There are creases in her face that I’ve never seen before. She looks terrified. This is too much. How can we survive this world, knowing what we just saw? Will it ever be normal again? No. Absolutely not. Like a shattered bottle from a bullet, this world can’t be put back together again. All the king’s horses, or some long dead fable I can’t quite recall. Zombie shrieks are upon us. They’ve broken through the windows of the church. Some of them are on fire, their clothes burned off, their charred bodies falling out of jagged windows. I stare in fascination. "Do you think they realize they’re on fire?” I ask Evelina, grabbing her hand for support. One of the, short fat used-to-be middle-aged man, rolls on the ground before looking in our direction. Crotch smoldering, he howls and lung-sprints toward us. “Looks like my ex-boyfriend.” Evelina spats, arms crossed, frowning. I snort laugh, and she puts her elbow on top of my head like I’m a stool. Just like she always does when I need it most. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,’ I say, brushing her arm off me and not bothering to mask my smile, the fear replaced by an endorphin high. “Seaside.” Evelina grunts the word. Her decision is made. No need to argue. “Lead the way,” I say, pushing her forward. Evelina quickly breaks into her long stride and I struggle to catch up. But I do, running in her shadow, one eye on the zombie horde spilling out of the church. We out pace them quickly. “Guess all those games of chase really came in handy,” I say, breath catching in my throat. I force deep belly breaths, breathe in my nose and out of my mouth. My legs feel tight, my stride too long. I shorten it, pull myself upright. Now I’m in the race. League City borders a sleepy coastal town called Seaside. Nothing there but a few crab shops and an old draw bridge. Place is stuck in the mid-twentieth century. Something you’d see in a black and white photograph. Feels ancient. A part of my grandma’s life. Old Texas. It’ll take us twenties minutes at this pace to reach Seaside. There’s a shrimp hut underneath the draw bridge, right on the water. Our friend Christy works there. The three of us can overcome anything. Between us and Seaside is a desolate marsh. Chest deep water. Surely the zombies can’t follow us through the salty wasteland...
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