Bitten

Bitten

Valentino smiled when he saw his breakfast laid out for him. “Fette biscottate, my favourite. Thanks, Gina.” He studied his housemate’s open smile, not daring to look into her fluid green eyes. Valentino bathed in the warm sunlight that reflected Gina’s soft, auburn curls.

“So?” said Gina, her voice impossibly high. “Tell me how it went.”

“Oh, I didn’t go,” said Tino. “You know how I am with big parties, they make me claustrophobic.”

“You didn’t go?” said Gina. Her eyes narrowed as she cocked her head to one side. “But it was your party, Valentino. Your opening night party. You had to go.”

“They didn’t even know I skipped it. I nailed the performance, took my bows and left. Everyone was happy.”

Gina hesitated before shaking her head and laughing. Valentino resumed normal breathing. He felt wretched when Gina was upset with him. He chewed his breakfast slowly, rolling around the possible new conversations he could start. His thoughts were interrupted, as Gina leapt to her feet and turned up the radio volume. It took a couple of seconds for Valentino to understand what he was hearing.

“The outbreak is spreading across the country. There is a crowd of fifty of these creatures at Porto Marghera. It is likely they will proceed towards Venice, providing they can work the boats. We have manned the bridge from the mainland. We suggest everyone arms themselves and prepares an escape strategy. Just in case. We do not wish to incite panic, hopefully these fowl animals will drown before they reach us.”

Valentino felt the familiar prickle of fear cross his chest. He had read about the Zombie Apocalypse. It started in the Americas. It was far enough away to not pose a risk to him. He remembered reading an article and thinking it was a joke. They couldn’t reach Venice, that’s what the journalist had written. Zombies weren’t real, though. Were they?

“We should visit the store, Tino. Get some supplies, weapons, that kind of thing.” Valentino studied Gina’s face. She was smiling, her breathing was steady, she seemed calm. But as she swiped a loose strand of hair from her face, her hand trembled and Valentino knew she was as scared as him.

“Tino, come on.You’re always in your head. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Gina stood and began noisily clearing the breakfast things away.

“Okay,” said Valentino, “I’m not sure I believe in zombies. It sounds like a practical joke. But, just in case, we should probably arm ourselves. I don’t have to be at the theatre until 11:00, so I’ll get changed now and we’ll go to the store first.”

Gina suspended her attack on the dishes and smiled at Valentino. It was rare that he demonstrated such authority.

All thoughts of dominance evaporated when Valentino returned wearing unforgiving white tights and a flowing white blouse. “Very zombie killer,” Gina teased.

The pair made their way quickly towards Guiseppe’s Store. Every house in the city had received flyers advising this was the place to equip themselves should the unthinkable happen. There was around thirty people jostling with each other to be the first inside the imposing Gothic building. Valentino, his fingers drumming an inaudible tune, stood patiently. Gina, on the other hand, didn’t.

“Come on,” she said, “I’m not waiting until there’s nothing left.” Gina grabbed his hand and weaved a path underneath the crowd and found a way inside. “Right, let’s think about what we need.”

Valentino realised he had no idea what that was. How did you kill a zombie? They were supposed to be already dead, or un-dead, whatever that meant. He tried desperately to remember the details of the article he read.

“Tino, concentrate. Zombies are dying, rotting slowly away. The only way you can kill them is by destroying their brain. We need machetes, for slicing off heads. Shotguns, they will put a big hole through their brains.” As they wandered around the shop, more items jumped out at them. When they went to pay, they had bundles of machetes, axes, shotguns, knives and a gas mask each for the anticipated stench.

It was all very surreal. Valentino couldn’t make his head understand the danger. That is why he didn’t see them when he first left the store. He wasn’t really looking for them.

It was Gina who alerted him to the danger. She grabbed Valentino’s arm and softly said, “Tino, wait. Don’t move.”

As Valentino followed the direction of Gina’s gaze, he felt his strong dancer’s legs wobble beneath him. The smell smacked him in the face a split second after he saw them. It reminded him of a smell from childhood, when a mouse had died in his bedroom and lay, decomposing, for at least a month. He dry heaved, unable to keep his body from reacting to the assault.

There was a low groan emitting from the enemy. It sounded primeval, more animal than human. As the flock turned towards the housemates, Valentino was horrified. He had seen fictional portrayals of zombies and found them exaggerated, laughable. Now he was faced with the genuine article, it really wasn’t so funny.

These used to be people, Valentino thought. But now they were repugnant; flesh rotting away, leaving blood and pus, shards of brain, bulging eyes. Grotesque and moving towards them. Gina handed him a machete and shotgun. In other circumstances, she would have chuckled at the sight of this man, wearing white tights and a flouncy blouse whilst brandishing weapons of murder. Survival had its own sense of humour.

“Let’s just concentrate on killing these for now,” said Gina as they charged at the vile savages. Valentino’s year’s of ballet remaining meant he was able to take off three of their heads whilst twirling gracefully through the air. Slice slice slice. At the same time, Gina took her aim with a gun and hit another three. All straight through the brain. Blood saturated the paved ground beneath their feet.

This created enough of a gap for the pair to run. “To my boat, quickly,” said Gina and they ran through St. Marks Square to where her gondola was moored on the far side.

As they clambered aboard, Valentino wondered how they could possibly escape on this tiny vehicle. As though reading his mind, Gina said, “I aced my mechanics course, remember? My project was to motorise a gondola. I got an A+.” She grinned, the three freckles which graced the bridge of her nose stretching cheekily.

Steering the gondola by hand until they got into a wider area, Valentino began to relax a little. There was another boat in the distance which looked to be heading towards them. “Maybe we can join with them, they might have more ammo,” said Gina, squinting and straining to see the occupants.

Before they could see for sure, they heard the moan. The low, baying groan which was now unmistakable to them. They waited for the enemy boat to pull close and Gina began firing indiscriminately. Valentino balanced on the edge of Gina’s boat, swinging his machete. The blue of the Venetian canal turned red as heads, whose skin was already sliding off, fell with a splash.

Adrenalin circled through their bodies and Gina found herself breathing much too quickly. Just as the last zombie was slain, there was a bump in the bottom of the gondola. Valentino and Gina both turned to look at the dismembered head that lay between them.

It looked like it had once been a man. Valentino had performed a perfect slice across the neck, but that wasn’t the worst of its injuries. The right eye was absent and the eye socket bloody and raw. The teeth were green and yellow. Skin was missing from the bottom of the jaw, exposing a jagged, crumbling bone. “You almost feel sorry for them,” said Gina as she reached to throw it overboard.

At the same moment she threw the head into the water, a hot pain rushed through her hand. She was bitten. Valentino yelped and covered his face. “Save yourself, Tino,” said Gina. “It’s too late for me now, you have to kill me.” Valentino hesitated, maybe she would be okay. But she was fading, changing colour, cracks were appearing on her forehead. “Tino, do it for me,” were her last strangled words.

Sobbing, Valentino pushed the woman he had never told he loved into the water. His whole body shaking, he aimed the shotgun at her head and blew her brain to smithereens. He sat down, soft, rasping sobs taking over. He had no idea what to do. Where could he go that was safe? Was anywhere safe? How could he do this without Gina? She always knew what to do.

Valentino started the motor, remaining slow and steady was no longer an option. He weaved the black gondola swiftly through the canals. His best chance was to go to the bridge, where he knew the Army were guarding entry. They would be able to help him, surely.

As he approached the mooring site, he slowed right down. No amount of breathing exercises would be enough to help him now. Besides, those exercises were for ballet, not zombie warfare! He shook the image from his head and tied up the boat as close to the bridge as he could get.

Once on land, Valentino could see groups of the hungry monsters dotted around. Most of them were picking innocent refugees from the streets and ripping chunks out of them, before moving on to their next victim.

As he watched, he noticed how slow the zombies were. It would be easy to outrun them, he thought. The problem would be if they surrounded him. Valentino looked to the bridge entrance, surveyed his surroundings and calculated his best route. After three, he decided. Then he ran. He raced towards his destination, not daring to glance behind.

When Valentino reached the guard, he exhaled a laugh and said, “I need help please. I’m in one piece, I haven’t been bitten. Look.” As he proceeded to twirl in demonstration of his aliveness, he came face to face with a repulsive skeleton. There were bits of flesh hanging in just enough places to still be a zombie.

Valentino froze. His mind refused to think. He stood face to face with his killer and fell to the floor the instant he was bitten. Darkness surrounded him, covered him. When he awoke, all he knew was he was hungry.

1754 words