Seven in Billions

The two acre lot had a wavy distortion rising above it on the hot July afternoon. Shielded on the edge by large maple wood trees, the majority of the grassy area was exposed to the sun. Given the exposure it was no real miracle that grass grew at a prodigious rate in what would ordinarily be an untamed meadow. Frank Lars stood on the edge of his well manicured lawn that in other circumstances could have passed for a golf green. He took in a deep breath, then walked the perimeter of his property, the broad leaf weedkiller ready in his hands to spray any offending weed that happened to take root since his last inspection seven days ago. It was will great satisfaction that he returned to the shed on the edge of the property.

"Nothing again Sadie!", he called to his tired old hound of mixed descent, "It is like the weeds are too afraid to take root here or something."

Of course the Millers to the east were not so careful with their lot. It had dandelions in it, Frank had seen them. If the offending weeds approached too close to the edge of the property Frank sprayed them, if no one was around. Today there had not been any dandelions, nor people,the last few days had been quiet.

"It is the dog days of summer girl. Your time right?", Sadie declined to answer, nor did she lift her head off of her front paws. Sitting in the shade, the most response she gave her master was to stare at him briefly before returning to the nap from which she had come.

Frank went into the shed and opened up both the doors so he could drive out the John Deer EZtrak Z445 with a 48-inch deck that he had bought two years ago when his wife Martha had died of the breast cancer. It was never "cancer" for Frank, it was always "the cancer", as if the sickness deserved a title to increase its significance. Martha's death was the pivotal changing point in Frank's life, the sickness of the only woman he had ever loved, or made love to, lasted an all too brief three months. At fifty two years old his wife was too young to die and Frank would have given anything, including the money from the life insurance policy, to have her back. There was no denying that Martha was the organized one in their lives, she brought in the money, she paid the bills and it was all Frank could do not to run his lawn care business at a loss. Since she died Frank really didn't work anymore. They had only owed ten grand on the house when she died, the kids were all grown and gone, the nearest of the three lived eight hundred miles away. The money from her life insurance took care of everything Frank had needed. He hadn't invested any of it when the markets crashed either, his money just sat in a savings account in town at the bank about seven blocks away. Frank's lifestyle was such that he could live off the three percent interest the bank gave him every year.

Pulling the large Winchester earphones over his head he sat down on the mower, started it up and backed out of the shed. He pivoted the mower around sideways until it came up to a rickety wooden table beside the shed. The table had a cooler on it and Frank broke one of the beers inside of it off of the six pack and put it into the insulated cup holder on the mower. He did not tap the beer yet, experience had taught him not to open a beer until he had mowed the edges of the property first, otherwise leaves, flowers and pieces of grass would get in his drink. Shutting the cooler he put the mower in gear and did a run around the edges of the property.

After his second loop he was well out into the full light of the sun, thankful he had worn a hat and put on sunscreen to hold the skin cancer at bay. Many people would not mow during the hottest part of the day, Frank loved mowing in the heat. For one thing there was nothing on television in the afternoons, three hundred channels and the best you could find was a news broadcast. Frank had hated the news since Martha died. He would watch old news, like the History Channel, but the only thing he watched with up to the date information was the weather channel. The other thing Frank liked was that in July, in the afternoons no one was ever outside to bother him. This was what made the kids coming down the street noteworthy. They were not little kids, who would play outside near naked as their only concession to the weather. These were teenagers, pale and dressed in the strange black clothing that people in Frank's day referred to as 'Gothic'.

"Weirdos.", Frank said, not paying them too much mind as he made the next corner and turned away from them. "I hope they stay off my lawn."

When Frank made it around half the lawn and turned back to mow the next strip, the kids were closer, they looked drugged up, they must be a bunch of pot heads or something. He still cautiously waved at them as he came around the corner and they continued towards him from down the street. On his next loop around the kids were in his yard. Sadie was barking at them furiously, but staying out of their reach. One of the kids was going after the dog and Frank pulled his mower up beside them and turned it off. Removing his head phones he said, "Can I help you with something son?"

The teen, probably fifteen or so Frank judged, just stared at him with vacant eyes and then leapt for Frank. His friends were right behind him, except for the girl in the short tan skirt and black calf high boot that was lunging after Sadie. Frank's reflex's were not as good as when he was younger, in this case they didn't have to be, the kid trying to grab him got tripped up on the lawn mower deck. Frank push the kid back as he tried to climb up the lawn mower, then started the machine and put it in gear. He did not start the mower blades, he just gunned the engine and flew away from his pursuers with relative ease. Sadie broke off barking at the girl and followed Frank's retreat to the shed. Once he reached the other side of the lawn Frank gestured to Sadie and she climbed up the mower deck and onto his lap, where she barked her defiance at the five kids who were still coming towards them. Behind the teens Frank saw more shapes on the road, a whole crowd of people.

"Sadie this doesn't look good." Frank said to his dog, though his voice was drowned out by the sounds of the mower. Turning the mower around he headed for his house, which was just about fifty feet away from the shed. He pulled up on his gravel driveway and parked the mower outside of his detached garage, then made his way up the steps and into the house. Sadie followed, but never stopped barking. Once inside Frank went to his phone and dialed the police emergency line. His call was answered by the machine, "Please leave a message detailing your emergency after the beep. The police will respond as soon as they are able to do so." This was followed by a loud artificial beep.

"Hello! Police? This is Frank Baker out at 224 Union Street, there are some people in my yard, one of them tried to grab me and a whole other mob is coming behind them. I am in my house now and have the doors locked, but I need an officer to come by and get this straightened out. Ah...the kids look like they are on drugs too, so be careful!" Hanging up the phone he went to his living room to look outside. By this time the teens were climbing up the stairs to the porch and the other people were within viewing distance. Looking out at a police officer mixed in with the teens Frank turned to Sadie and said, "Sadie, I don't think the police are coming."

The zombies on the porch noticed Frank gazing out of his front window and were drawn there, one slammed his hand into the glass, which cracked, but did not break. Frank stepped back quickly, dropping the curtain back into place. His body felt numb and he jumped slightly as the window as shattered. Taking another step backward he noticed a tingling in his arms and he started breathing quickly, the curtains were moving, then were torn from the wall as one of the kids crawled inside. The vacant eyes of the teen fell on Frank as he took another slow step backwards. Sadie lunged forward and bit the kid's leg, the zombie reached for the dog and caught it by the collar. A tug of war ensued as the zombie tried to pull Sadie up to his mouth, while the dog maintained a grip on the thing's leg. Just as the zombie won, Frank hit it with a lamp. The blow was strong enough to break the lamp, but not strong enough to break the zombie. Sadie dropped to the floor and scurried around behind Frank as he stood there looking for another weapon. The numbness was definitely not his imagination, it was radiating up into his armpit and down his arms.

"Oh God Sadie! I think I am having a heart attack!", turning he tried to run to the stairs, but his faithful dog tripped him up and he landed on his hands and knees. The zombies shuffling towards him were faster than he was capable of moving. As the first one bit into his leg Frank felt an equally sharp pain in his chest, he didn't feel any other zombies biting him after that. Despite his early demise by heart attack, the zombies had bitten Frank once and the infection that they were suffering from raised Frank from the dead twenty minutes later. Getting to his feet Frank wandered about his house until he eventually joined a few stragglers heading out of town along the road. His faithful dog Sadie, still alive and barking, now at Frank, followed at his side.

..home..