Authors: Richard Johnson
“Tossing
crazies on spikes great way to stay in shape. Also keeps, how you say,
looky-loos away from farm. Anyways, Vlad wanted to protect mother when world
went topsy-turvy. But she driving crazy with chores.” He pointed to his barrel
chest. “World champion three years. Now? Castrate pigs, shovel shit, feed
chickens. No more.” He walked over to the post to recover his knife. “Have
heard of Spartacus? Was born in Bulgaria. Draganov lore claims him as ancestor.
Many others in family honored fighters, too. To be like them, Vlad must die in
glorious battle.”
Charlie
arched an eyebrow. “And?”
“And Vlad not
find glorious battle at Bumfuck chicken farm.”
At least they
knew what maniac was responsible for the impaled zombies and why Vlad so
desperately wanted to join them.
“Okay, we’re
gonna talk this over so give us a minute,” Charlie said.
“Take time.”
The group
huddled up. Currently sober and unimpaired by any other mind-altering
substances, they were at least thinking clearly.
Rob spoke
first. “No. No effing way,” he said quietly, almost in a growl. “Vlad can’t be
trusted.”
“If he can
throw a zombie onto a spike as cross-training, the dude has mad skills. Sorry
bro,” Smokey said. “He could help us for sure.”
Sam nodded in
agreement. “I saw him on television. The guy can fight. And no offense to Miss
Katya, but after all those vegetables, meat sounds good.”
“I agree with
the pledge. I want some damned chicken,” Left-Nut said with his mouth watering
at the thought. “Plus he can kick Rob’s big ass. So for me it’s a win-win.”
“He cheated,”
Rob mumbled as the harsh realization set in that, yes, the apocalypse could get
even worse. The man that had ruined Rob’s real life would once again become a
thorn in his side.
“Katya?”
Charlie said. “He has a bad history with women. Like, Chris Brown bad.”
“I have no
idea who that is, but I trust you to make the right decision,” she said.
Charlie
placed his hand on Rob’s shoulder. It was settled. “Sorry, but we can’t let our
personal vendettas get in the way of survival. If we did, Left-Nut would be
dead by now. So we’ll keep him on a tight leash, and if he doesn’t fit in, we
send him packing. Consider it a test drive.”
“Big
mistake,” Rob said.
“Maybe so,”
Charlie said, more to himself as the huddle dispersed. “Vlad, grab that
chicken, pack your gear and say your goodbyes. You’re coming with us. Just
don’t forget, you pull any scandalous maneuvers and you’re on your own.”
Vlad
retrieved some items from the farmhouse and then hugged his crying mother while
totally ignoring his uncle. Moments later he led the growing group of misfits
into the next forest beyond the farm.
“Is woman
spoken for?” Vlad said to nobody in particular. Katya turned to give him a
dirty look and Vlad saw her scar for the first time. “Whoa, never mind. Has
body of gymnast and face of burnt
patatnik
.” He smacked Left-Nut’s arm.
“Gives me… how you say opposite of hard-on? Soft-off?”
Left-Nut
grinned. “Vladimir, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
“Probably,
you both have the personality of hotdog water,” Charlie said, immediately
second guessing his decision. “Now, less chatting and more walking. We have a
lot of miles to cover today. And crack open that basket of chicken.”
The summer
had been a hard one for the girls, and they were thankful it was finally coming
to a close. Modern living had left their bodies unaccustomed to the realities
of hot weather, and a cool breeze that particular night had been welcome
indeed. But lower temperatures would not solve all their problems.
Jackie worked
her hand axe back and forth before it ultimately popped out of a dead man’s
skull with a plopping sound. She wiped the blade off on dry grass and breathed
a sigh of relief. “That was a close one.”
“Tell me
about it,” Padma said as she rose to her feet and brushed dirt off her scraped
knees. “Thanks. I didn’t see him coming.”
“It’s way too
dark out here. We need to find somewhere to hide for the night, and soon. There
are just too many biters out here.” Jackie’s last comment was an understatement
as the forest seemed to be crawling with zombies for no apparent reason. Even
worse, the light of the full moon meant their movements could be easily
detected by the sharp-eyed maniacs.
“Maybe we
could check the road again?” Jen said. “There could be a car with tinted
windows or something. I’d even sleep under one right now. Or even in the
trunk.”
Jackie
nodded. “Okay. Let’s shadow the highway for a bit. If anyone sees trouble,
though, it’s right back into the woods.”
The group of
women had been nomads for months, roving from one location to the next,
pilfering food and supplies while trying to stay ahead of whatever threats
lurked nearby. Their first few weeks had been spent hiding in an abandoned
sub-division while eking out a meager existence on wild berries, bugs, and
rainwater. But they had slowly wasted away, and Jackie was forced to lead them
into the unfamiliar lands southwest of the city. From there they had been
driven on by empty stomachs, both their own and by those of their mindless
adversaries.
For the most
part they’d survived using stealth and patience. After being on the move for
fourteen hours straight, though, the latter was in short supply. They bypassed
several abandoned trucks and a tipped-over RV, and found what they were looking
for. Up ahead was a large van with expensive rims and tinted windows.
“Looks like a
rape van,” Mary said, then bit her lip, expecting some unkind words in response
to the gaffe.
Jen calmly
stared ahead, emotionless. “No, it does. But it’s just what we need. My blisters
are killing me and I can’t keep my eyes open. Are we ready?”
They were,
and the four friends burst from the cover of the scrub trees and rapidly made
their way through the overgrown weeds surrounding the highway.
Exposed and
clearly visible under the ample moonlight, this was an enormous risk for a
group more comfortable playing it safe. But sometimes it paid to go against
your own ground rules.
This was not
one of those times. The doors were locked and Mary yanked in futility on the handle.
Which is when the car alarm turned on.
“Shit, back
to the woods,” Jackie said as the loud alarm faded away with the last of the
car’s battery.
Padma held
her hand up. “Hold on. Maybe it’s okay?”
It wasn’t.
Scores of infected bolted towards them from farther down the road as well as
from the tree line, scuttling towards them like ants joining a picnic.
There were
definitely too many to fight off with handheld weapons, and the women were
malnourished and in no shape for a pitched battle anyway. This left only one
option.
“Follow me,”
Jackie said as she took off straight down the middle of the road.
A quarter of
a mile later and the women were already tiring, with Jen in particular lagging
behind. Jackie opened the door of a truck they’d seen earlier and looked for
keys. Nothing. She ran to the next one, and again came up empty.
“Climb onto
the mobile home,” Padma said between pants, realizing Jen was about to faint.
As they prepared to scale the tipped Winnebago and engage in a brutal last
stand, something in the distance caught all of their attention. Headlights. And
they were approaching.
“Screw it,
run to the lights!” Jackie said forcefully.
“Are you
sure?” Jen asked, lingering briefly.
Jackie tugged
at her hesitating friend’s arm. “We don’t have a choice.”
“But what if
it’s somebody like before?”
“You stay,
you die,” Jackie said stone-faced. And so the four ran towards the mystery
vehicle, unsure of who was driving it or what their intentions were. At this
point it didn’t matter as fifteen very hungry cannibals sprinted after them.
Some had been hobbled by injuries and left a bloody trail in their wake, but
others were in peak physical condition. The same could not be said for the
emaciated group of survivors.
However, the
outcome of this chase would not be decided by how fast the runners were going,
but by the speed of the incoming vehicle, which turned out to be a semi. And it
was hauling ass.
Mary jumped
up and down while waving her arms as the truck approached in a hurry. “It’s not
slowing.”
In fact, it
was speeding up, swerving and heading directly at them. The driver honked his
horn loudly and, at the last second, cut to the right while locking up the
brakes. On instincts the women hit the pavement as the semi jackknifed and its
trailer flew forward with squealing tires and burning rubber. Caught unaware,
the zombies were completely decimated by the high-risk maneuver of the lunatic
behind the wheel.
Jackie and
the others climbed out from beneath the trailer and peered up at the driver’s
side of the cab as the window rolled down. The song “Radar Love” resounded from
an expensive stereo system while a lit cigarette butt flew forth like a tracer
round in the night. The song quieted. Next, a man with a mullet stuck his head
out, grinning oddly as he lingered on Jackie’s supple legs for an
excruciatingly protracted amount of time.
“Aren’t you
just a tall drink of hot chocolate,” the man said with a twang. “The name’s
Russell Yitzhak Kaminsky.”
“Wait, you’re
Jewish?” Trent asked from the passenger seat.
“Wasn’t it
obvious?” Russ said as he batted his disturbing eyes at the women. “Anyways,
I’m single, willing to mingle.” They stared at him blankly. “You know, all
alone and ready to bone?”
The world’s
sole Jewish redneck zombie-hybrid had saved their lives. He was also drunk,
dressed like a pirate, and had a raccoon (in a similar outfit) perched on his
shoulder. But to the women, at that moment, he might as well have been a
shirtless Brad Pitt riding in on Shadowfax while bottle-feeding a baby tiger.
Except for
Jen, who recognized her fiancés “eccentric” uncle in an instant. Ignoring the
smashed bodies in the road, her face lit up as she approached the truck. “Oh my
God! Russ, I can’t believe it’s you!”
Trent had
exited from the other side and walked around to make sure no zombies were
pulling a Jason Voorhees. Once face to face with Jen, her smile grew even
wider. “And Trent. I never thought I’d be happy to see you. So where’s Blake?”
Awkward. The
cop opened his mouth but couldn’t vocalize the harsh reality that Blake had
been killed by an injection of spoiled insulin. However, his non-answer was
enough, and Jen collapsed as the rollercoaster ride of emotions finally
overwhelmed her. Mary and Padma comforted her as Jackie sized up the newcomers.
It had been
several days since Trent, Russ, and Marquell had emerged from the cavernous
tunnels, and much had happened since then. They’d punched, kicked and choked
each other numerous times while surviving one harebrained scheme after another.
They’d traded jokes, recipes, threats, and insults including words like
“bumpkinbilly,” “butt slug,” “bacon-bastard,” and so forth and so on. Russ had
even driven off without the others once before coming back two hours later,
drunker than David Hasselhoff on vacation. But, as often happens in life or
death situations like these, strange bonds of brotherhood can form and the
mismatched group had reached a bit of a détente for the moment. Not that Russ
or Trent knew what that meant.
Russ had even
made Marquell laugh a few times – on the inside at least – and that was a rare
thing indeed. Sure, Marquell still had the passing desire to murder Trent every
few hours, but not any more than Charlie had while living with him in the
apartment.
For now they
had an open road in front of them, a handful of attractive women in their
presence, and some dead zombies to plunder. Things were looking up.
Jackie
approached as the trio searched several dismembered corpses. “My boyfriend was
with you the night before it all went down, at the bachelor party. Bruce?”
Trent sighed
loudly, wondering why he always had to be the bearer of bad news. “Sorry. He
was alive until just a few days ago. The Chinese came from nowhere…”
Jackie
nodded. “At least I know. And he’s not out there hurting people. That’s a positive.”
“Nice!” Russ
said as he pulled a small flask from a pair of bloody jeans. He tipped the
metal container and drained its contents before even checking to see what it
was, swishing the liquid around like mouthwash. “Charcoal-filtered scotch.
Wasn’t expecting that.”
“What are you
hauling?” Jackie asked, trying to glean any useful information she could. They
had been burned by supposed rescuers once already and she was determined not to
repeat the mistake. Unfortunately, it was Russ that decided to answer her. In
great detail.
“Little lady,
right now we’re pulling half a load of freight from Adam and Steve, the world’s
premier source of gay sex toys. We’ve got butt plugs, double-sided dongs,
pocket rockets, and some freaky shit that even I haven’t seen before. And
that’s saying something because I have done some messed up stuff in my life.
One time I was with my landlord’s wife, and we had a stapler and this bottle of
hot sauce—”
“I get the
picture,” Jackie said, visibly growing uncomfortable. She introduced her group
and then thanked the men for their assistance. “If you could help us find a
working vehicle, well, that would be great.” Despite their good deed, Jackie
had decided it would be best to part ways, and soon. She was nothing if not
rational.
“Sure thing,”
Russ said and turned to the doctor. “Padma, isn’t that the chick in
Star
Wars
? Not the real
Star Wars
but the one with that dumbass Jafar
Binks fella.”
“I haven’t
the slightest clue what you’re talking about, but would you mind backing up?” Padma
said as she noticed his odd mannerisms and weirdly tinted green eyes. Then she
detected Russ’s missing fingers and apparent lack of pain as he scratched his
scraggly salt and pepper beard. She motioned for her friends to step away.
“What’s going on here? Something’s not right with this man.”
“No shit,”
Trent said and received four very dirty looks. He raised his hands in
deference. “It’s complicated. Well, actually it’s not. He’s a zombie, but he’s
our zombie. Unless he sobers up.”
“That ain’t
happening,” Russ said and went back to searching the dead as Elvis scampered
down and sniffed at a severed foot in the road.
“Or if you
get seriously injured he’ll turn on you like a buster. Rest in peace, homie.”
Marquell threw a few gang symbols up in remembrance of his fallen friend. He
had come to the realization that Ace Kool would have died anyway, but it did
not lessen the blow.
Padma’s
interest was piqued by the story. “So he’s got the same desires and urges as
the other cannibals running around, but for some reason he kept his mind?”
“What he had
for one, anyway,” Trent replied.
“Strange, but
fascinating,” Padma said as her impressive intellect worked in many different
directions. “It appears he’s some type of carrier, like a modern day Typhoid
Mary. Have you thought about taking him somewhere to get tested? This could be
a breakthrough.”
“I don’t know
who the fuck Typhoon Mary is, I was a gym major,” Trent said. “Ask me how to
set up a kickball tournament though and I’m all over it.” He could be charming
when he wanted to be, and with the sudden arrival of several attractive women,
he wanted to be so in a bad way. “But to answer your question, yes, we are
trying to take him somewhere. There’s a military base near Cantonville, and
some of our other friends might be there already.”
The
information was a blockbuster in that it gave the women the slightest bit of
hope, which was something they had been sorely lacking. They walked away for a
moment to plot their course.
“Ladies, any
thoughts?” Padma said. “Should we go with them? There is strength in numbers,
and if that guy’s the cure to this madness then we should help get him to his
destination.” She looked to Jen. “But can they be trusted?”
Jen shrugged.
“Russ was Blake’s uncle and I’ve known him for years. Sure he’s a turd, but he
was harmless. Then again that was before he got turned into a zombie or
whatever. And Trent’s always been an asshole. I never met the other guy.”
“So?” Padma
said.
“I need to
sleep. We can always change our minds later.”
Jackie looked
to Mary. “What do you think?”
Mary still
wasn’t used to people asking her opinion about anything, and it caught her off
guard every time. “I trust Jen’s judgment,” she said.
“That’s it
then.” Jackie turned to the men. “If it’s all right with you, we’d like to join
up and head to that base together.”
The men
smiled in unison, tripping over themselves to be the first to agree. It was
amazing what women could do to them, even half-starved ones at that.
Jackie wasn’t
finished. “Just understand that we won’t be putting up with any funny business.
The last men that tangled with us ended up regretting it. In a big way.”