George Washington

  “Becky, I told you we should’ve stopped coming,” Elise said, gesturing to the snack table. “This selection is GRIM.” 

  As much as Becky wanted to argue, she frowned as she inspected the goods. Stale cookies, out-of-date chips, and room-temperature generic sports hydration drinks were all that were on offer at tonight’s meeting. It was a far cry from the fully catered snack table at the first two meetings. 

  “Everyone find your seats,” Rise, the leader of the group, said. “Let’s get ready to bring this city down.” 

  Elise leaned over.

  “Plus, I don’t like the language they’re starting to use,” she said. 

  Becky grunted her agreement, and the two of them made their way to the back row. Last month, Rise started the meeting by telling political-themed jokes. This month, he was describing methods of bringing down the electrical grid. Becky furrowed her brow and looked at Elise. 

  “Is he talkin’ about a video game?” Becky asked. 

  Elise shrugged, equally caught off guard by the quickly shifting atmosphere in the room. When Rise said something about bringing the ruling class to their knees, most of the others shouted their support so loudly that it made Becky and Elise jump. They again shared a worried glance, then leaned in close and whispered. 

  “I did not sign up for this kinda stuff,” Elise said. “I thought we were just gonna eat dope foods and share anti-government posts on social media and stuff.” 

  “We can’t just leave!” Becky shot back. “We’re fed up with the status quo, remember? Besides, these people will tell all their friends.” 

  Rise moved on to a new subject. 

  “And so at next month’s meeting, I want you to bring every gun you can get your hands on. We need a bunch.” 

  Elise grabbed Becky’s arm and squeezed. 

  “I am so not okay with guns,” she said. 

  “Me either, but-” Becky started to respond. 

  “Excuse me, ladies in the back,” Rise shouted. 

  Everyone in the room slowly turned to look at them. They were in the activities/storytime room on the second floor of the community center. At capacity, the room held forty people comfortably. Tonight there were seventeen. 

  “Are you with us, ladies?” Rise asked. 

  Sharing a panicked glance, Becky and Elise slowly stood. They shouted their reply in unison, summoning as much enthusiasm as they could. 

  “We’re with you!” 

  Everyone in the room clapped, then turned back around. Rise started talking about what to say when you are detained by the authorities. Elise leaned over, eyes wide as she whispered.

  “We HAVE to get out of here.” 

  “We just told them we’re with them!” Becky said. “They’ll think we’re narcs if we leave now!” 

  They continued to argue in hushed tones while Rise made his speech. A few moments later, someone kicked the door, sending it swinging open and crashing into the wall with a reverberating slam. A hush fell, and everyone watched as a man shambled into the room. 

  “Oh come on, they’re doing cosplay now?” Elise said. 

  The man was in full Revolutionary War military garb, down to a saber on his belt and a white powdered wig on his head. But his uniform was in wretched condition, full of holes and soaked through with grime and dirt. 

  “That man reeks,” Elise said, grabbing her nose. 

  “Is he supposed to be George Washington?” Becky asked, also holding her nose. 

  The man turned to face her, and several people in the room screamed. His face was mostly gone, nothing beneath but bones. 

  “I hunger for….” the corpse wheezed.

  “He’s a zombie, here for our brains!” someone shouted. 

  “I hunger for revolution!” the corpse screeched, pulling his rusty saber. 

  Rise ran at him, but the corpse was ready. He lunged forward and drove the saber into Rise’s stomach. Eyes wide in shock, Rise froze, then looked down at the rusty saber sticking through him. 

  “I’m gonna need a… tetanus shot,” he wheezed as he fell backward, sliding off the saber and landing on the floor in a bloody heap.   

  More group members rushed the corpse. It swung the saber in a wide arc, slashing necks and faces, painting the walls with blood. 

  “This is the last straw! We’re quitting!” Elise said. 

  Becky nodded and started for the door, but the fight against the corpse shifted in that direction, blocking it. She turned around and pointed. 

  “The window!” 

  She and Elise ran toward the back of the room. Becky opened the window then leaned her head out. She wasn’t sure how high two stories was, but the city street looked further down than she was comfortable with. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Elise had stopped at the snack table and was filling her purse with stale cookies. 

  “Girl, get over here, those cookies aren’t even good!” Becky yelled. 

  Elise rushed over, and the two of them climbed out the window, perching on the small railing outside. Becky pointed.

  “Aim for the bushes!” she yelled. 

  They held hands and jumped. The fall was over in an instant, and Becky screamed as she hit the bushes. They were filled with thorns that cut her all over as she sank to the base of the bushes. She heard a heavy thud and a sound like something slapping the concrete. Peering out from the bushes, she saw Elise lying unconscious on the sidewalk. She’d missed the bushes entirely. 

  Crying as the thorns continued to slice into her skin, Becky crawled out of the bush. She made her way over to Elise, relieved to see that her best friend was breathing. Standing, Becky grabbed Elise under the arms and started to drag her down the sidewalk, away from the sounds of murder and mayhem coming from the community center window.