“Maybe you want to try and put a little distance between you and your buddy there, before he decides you're worth eating.”
Tony yelled in his defense, not knowing what he was talking about. “I ain’t gonna do no such thing. He’s a goddamn liar, Bubba, I wouldn’t do that to you. Lying son of a bitch.”
Tony tried to walk forward, but fell to the ground, clutching at his arm as if he were having a heart attack. Bubba leaned over, not in the least bit worried for his own safety. "You okay, Tony? Doc McPherson ain’t in town this weekend; he went over to his lake house to go fishing. You need anything more than a Tylenol, and you're screwed.”
Jude hollered for good measure, “Guys, you might want to give him just a little bit more room. It happens pretty fast, and when it doesn't, well, it ain’t pretty...not at all. Smashing in his head might not be a bad start to slow him down.”
Bubba waved a hand for Jude to shut up, and that was when the screaming began. Jude didn’t have a great view, but from his experience with the bitten, he knew exactly what was happening. It all started within a second of the first scream, intertwined with the first growl coming from Tony
—
the newest of his kind. Bubba screamed now, and it became a gurgled cry for help as blood shot into the air and covered the rest of the men’s backs. Bubba’s yell became a chorus of screams as the others who had gathered around became victims. The five men who weren’t close all backed up, still unsure what to do.
Jude screamed to them, “Fucking run, and run now, damn it. Get your stupid asses out of there and don’t waste any time doing it. The bitten dead are faster. They aren’t like the dead ones that came out of the ground. These are as quick as you and I, and they aren’t very goddamn forgiving. Come on now, get on outta there, please! You don’t have to die!”
The strangers made their first mistake, which coincidentally was also their last. They shouldered their rifles, aiming at the dead and firing away. If they’d been in a war against the living, they would have successfully taken down their targets. Unfortunately for these men, they only drew all attention their way. The dead ran toward the men gripping the rifles and, falling upon them, knocked them to the ground.
The men didn’t know how to react against the dead. The fact that they had been friends with them for most of their lives did little to help. The dead leaned in, ripping chunk after chunk from their necks. They wasted no time on savoring the taste of their meals; instead they went bite after bite until their stomachs were swollen from the meals in front of them.
Jude turned around to run back and get his gear, but his companions were already running toward him. Chuck said, “Would you get this damn thing going? We got two choices on what direction to go, and they both suck. But I tell ya, the ones back there are going to take a hell of a lot longer to clear out than these new zombies. You got any issues with that?”
“I don’t give a damn what we do, so long as we don’t just sit here waiting on all the shit to hit the fan. Gimme that saw and let's head down the hill.”
Chuck did as he was told and yanked back on the cord. He revved it, letting a chain of smoke fill the air, and marched down the hill, keeping the saw up and ready.
Jude thought about what the women had said earlier, about not being able to keep the axe held high for fear of their arms eventually going numb. He couldn’t think of a time in his life when he’d been happier to have a physical job for a living; especially the type that went hand in hand with a zombie apocalypse. The few men who weren’t yet being attacked by the dead were still holding up their rifles as Jude approached.
Jude walked in the opposite way of the nervous man with the gun still being pointed at Jude as if he was the most dangerous thing around him at the moment. He ran the gas at full throttle, lifting the saw blade to the dead's neck. It screamed in anger and frustration. The saw held it back. Jude held strong to his position, the saw sending a spray of neck fat and blood everywhere, and let the dead use its own weight to send the blade all the way through its neck. Its dead eyes went black and its head rolled away, spinning on the ground.
The four men remaining watched as Jude looked around, ready for the next one. Chuck caught one which was still busy eating Bubba, and sliced through the back of its head, splitting it down the middle. When it fell to the ground, Chuck brought up a very large work boot and used everything he had to crack its head completely open. “Now that is how you take care of one of them zombies, boys. You don’t got the right tools to be able to
—
”
One of the younger men, who couldn’t have been more than a teenager, walked up just short of Chuck, aiming steady. For one quick moment, Chuck thought that this was the end and he was going to be shot. The kid pulled the trigger twice, then lowered the gun, shooting just off the ground. Chuck looked up, rubbing his free hand over everything, making sure that all his favorite things were still there. He said, “What the fuck are you shooting at me for? Did you hit your fucking head or something, boy?”
The teen pointed behind Chuck. “You can call me Charlie. Just remember my useless gun just saved your ass.”
Chuck turned around to see one of the dead on the ground, both of its kneecaps leaking reddish-black fluid. Chuck revved up one more time, putting the blade into its forehead until it came out the top of its skull. “That thing is good for dropping them.” Chuck revved the chainsaw again and continued, “This here thing is good for keeping the bastards down.”
Charlie looked around, seeing all of the men in his group had been eaten or had abandoned him. He pointed at the dead which were still making their approach. “So what about all of them? What are we going to do with those things?”
Jude said, “There isn’t any we, kid. My memory must be better than yours, because if I remember, just a few minutes ago you all were aiming everything you had at us and were threatening to take us out. It seems like we know just a little bit more about the dead than you all do—or, I guess, than
you
do, since your buddies are either dead or gone now. We need a vehicle, kid. You think you could help us with that?”
“Depends. Where are you going?”
“We're heading to Kansas City. We want to get on the news,” Chuck said.
“You got zombies walking around eating people and all you guys want to do is go and try to get on the news? Don’t you think maybe people could use your help killing these things?” Charlie asked.
Joann cut in. “Look
—
Charlie, is it? We don’t just want to get on the news, we
need
to get on the news. We were in the town where all of this started. We need to warn people about the rainwater and about the dead. I think it’s going to get much worse before it gets better. With the humidity the way it is, we're going to be looking at some serious thunderstorms.”
Charlie scratched his head. “I’m sorry, but did you guys take some bad drugs or something earlier? You sound insane
—
you know this, right?”
Leslie stepped forward. She was the closest to his age. He smiled immediately, and the first thought that ran through her head was,
Lovely, we have another Chuck to deal with
. “Look, we were in the town where the outbreak happened. We're pretty sure that some dumbshits were hired to do some dirty work. They dumped a whole bunch of nasty shit on this cemetery in Sedalia. When they did, the dead people came back to life, or came back to be the walking dead
—
”
“Sedalia is a long-ass way from here. You trying to tell me that their dead walked that far already? Shit, what are they, marathon runners?”
“First off, I wasn’t done talking. Secondly, don’t interrupt a lady
—
it isn’t polite. The best thing we can figure is some of that stuff got up into the air. When it rained around Sedalia, the rest of the dead that had been in the ground where they belong and not trying to eat people came back to whatever it is that they are now. Oh, and when it rains, if you drink it, you become one of the fast zombies, or you can get bitten and…same deal. So as tempting as it is to open your little ol' mouth when it rains, I suggest you don’t, unless you want someone chopping your head off. You have to either chop their heads off or break their skulls open. The guns work, but they take a ton of ammo and we haven't found a cache of guns powerful enough to take them down permanently. So we’ve pretty much stuck to the saws and axes. That's just what we've had around us, but just about anything that's heavy and can crack a skull open works. Your little pea-shooter rifle you got there is great for taking them down, but you need a finish weapon…”
Charlie bobbed his head slowly up and down, trying to grasp what she was saying. “So you're going on the news to ruin everyone’s life in one quick message? I mean, because that is probably the absolute worst news that I have ever
—
I mean ever
—
gotten in my entire fucking life.”
Chuck said, “Yup, pretty much, and there probably ain't no cure, neither. That’s it, though, I think. So you gotta car around here we can take or something? You guys got a car dealer? I’d love a fancy new truck with air conditioning and a kick ass tape player no more 8 track players for me, I say you gots to move forward with technology.”
“We don’t have a car dealer here. You need to go to Kansas City for one of them. Everyone knows that, but you aren’t from around here, are you?”
Joann said, “I’m from eastern Missouri, these two with saws are from somewhere in Iowa, and Leslie
—
I don’t have a clue where she’s from; it sounds like a little bit of everywhere.”
Charlie opened his mouth to say something, but Jude cut him off. “Okay, kid, all this shit we just told you needs to get out on the news before it’s too late. People are going to see these things as soon as it rains; they're going to make the news, if they haven’t already. Citizens are going to go out and attempt to kill these things without a clue why perfect shots to the head and chest aren’t doing anything to them. We need to save everyone—let them know how to put these things down before all we got left walking around are the dead.”
“Can I come with? I mean, I haven't got anyone here
—
I’m all on my own. I was born late, my parents are dead now, and I didn’t have no brothers or sisters. I’d like to just move on from this place. It seems like if I’m going to survive, maybe I should stick with someone who knows what they're doing. That is, if you got some extra room for me to come with?”
“Well," Jude said, "that’s a little hard to determine when we don’t know yet what we're driving. Now, if you think you could help with that, then I suppose there's a helluva good chance we'll have some room for you. As long as you aren’t going to be any trouble.”
Chuck commented, “Yeah, because that department is covered.”
Leslie slapped his shoulder, and Chuck said, “Shit, woman, I was talking about myself.”
“Oh, well, sorry about that,” Leslie said.
Charlie waved them off. “I’m okay. I’m not a troublemaker, I just don’t have anyone else to roll with. When you're in a horrible situation, one thing I know is you don't go out of your way to be alone. Throw in some of these dead people walking around
—
and I can only assume the potential for a shit-ton more
—
and you got yourself a grade A fucking problem. Sound about right to you?”
The four of them nodded and Jude said, “So you still haven’t said anything about getting us a ride. Is that something that you think you can do?”
“Depends on if I can get a ride with y'all?”
Chuck said, “I don't understand.”
Leslie said, “Oh, my God, you are something. He’s saying that if there's no ride for him, he's going to take whatever ride he knows about and leave us here on our own. If we let him come with, then we're going to go with him. And he already knows where to get one. Is that about the gist of it, Charlie?”
Charlie smiled, nodding. “Yep, if you don’t want to help me, I'll be just fine handling my own bullshit. I can’t say I'll be too happy about it, but I can deal with just about anything, I'm sure.”
Jude said, “I’m gonna hold you to that not being a pain in the ass thing, son. I promise you that. Chuck really isn’t kidding when he talks about being the troublemaker of our little foursome here.”
Charlie nodded, walking back up to the man who had been barking orders and threats earlier. He knelt down, patting his pockets, doing his absolute best to not get blood and guts on himself, and found a set of keys. He slipped them out of the dead man's pocket, holding them up with a slight smirk on his face. “I say if we're going to ride, we might as well do so in style, right?”
They nodded and followed Charlie, weapons ready, until they came up to a full-sized Bronco missing its top. The men nodded, knowing shooting out of this thing would be a piece of cake. Charlie offered to drive, but Jude took the keys, tossing them over to Joann, who slid into the driver’s seat.
The five climbed in and drove quickly out of town. They had been on the road for less than ten minutes, driving west, when raindrops started to pepper the windshield. Jude looked over at Chuck, who had his hands placed over his lips. Jude could only shake his head, though he had a bad feeling about the rainfall, too.