Zombie Paradise Lost: Still Alive Book Six

by Javan Bonds

  Of course, you want more, you greedy motherfucker. The pastor smiled beatifically. “Feed a man a fish, and you feed him for a day...” Hamric foresaw being let down and Jones was briefly confused. Sonny readied to speak, but the preacher raised his other hand. “That’s why I was thinking about bringing chili to church for everybody on Sunday!”

  The faithful hooted and clapped. They were becoming good disciples. Without much more pushing, these idiots will be completely behind me. His rise to power would be unstoppable! Things had changed since people started going blue and he knew he would be able to settle down. Some of these people need to start having babies or there will be a shortage of meat soon! I need to preach that sermon I memorized off the internet a few years back about having your quiver full. When god says it they will have to obey.

  21

  Savage Islands

  Lauren Brown held out Rajesh Mattu’s elbow, examining the wound. Half of his Clone Trooper armor had been removed, as he now sat on the table while she examined the wound. “I think it will need some stitches, but you’ll be good to go after that. So, what happened?”

  The Phantom’s thick Indian accent was understandable by the nurse practitioner. She had seen all types of patients and worked with people from all over the world.

  “I just tripped going from the express lube back to the Humvee. Couldn’t see my feet or the rock on the ground, but I definitely saw the sky from my back.” The HIT chuckled as she brought out the suture kit. She couldn’t help but snicker in kind.

  “Wow. You made it through a nest completely unscathed and wound up tripping on your way out of the door?” The nurse practitioner turned to the man now leaning against the wall in a trench-coat, a blotted cloth mask hanging halfway out of his pocket. ”You’ve got to give me at least some of the story, Detective Sako. What in God’s name has happened to those little ones that are missing?”

  The investigator smiled condescendingly. He didn’t catch her mentioning of those, as if all the recently missing girls had met the same fate. “You see, Lauren, God didn’t kill those little girls. Fate didn’t butcher them, and destiny sure didn’t feed them to those animals. The way I see it if God sees how the world is, He doesn’t seem to mind. You know just as well as I do, God doesn’t make the world this way; we do. After all, humans created the zombie virus and subsequent peevies.” Not one of the other three in the room understood his Watchmen reference but they were chilled to their cores nonetheless.

  A few quick snaps, twists, and a bandage later, Rajesh was ready for another outing. Lauren stood and began walking in Sako’s direction. “You have to tell me everything that happened.”

  ☠☠☠

  22

  Sako’s Journal Two

  Our Humvee came to a stop in front of Ed’s Fast Lube, a little mechanic shop just off downtown Albertville. Comically, someone had spray-painted a Z in front of the name. I doubt there is any way that the smell of grease, motor oil, transmission fluid, antifreeze, and just the overall smell of car repair could ever be removed from this location. A nuclear bomb could detonate in one of the oil pits, and one would still be able to catch the lasting scent of dirty, sweaty men topped with the inner workings of automobiles.

  Amazingly, zombie shit wasn’t even able to cover it. Compare it to some cheap air freshener that smells immeasurably worse than the odor it is intended to cover. Not directly affronted by body odor and burnt grease, you now have the pleasure of adding the aroma of a dead dog found on the side of the road, with an exploded stomach to the array of olfactory cells permeating the surrounding air. Now, take into account the deceased canine only recently consumed a soiled adult diaper which had been sitting in the sun for at least a week. Now breathe deep!

  The three of us opened our doors and stepped out simultaneously. I sniffed disgustedly and let out a long sigh. “You guys ready for this?”

  “Sir, yes sir!” the Clone Trooper HITs answered in unison.

  Brandy Hamric was only reported ‘officially missing’ yesterday. Days prior, she accompanied her parents, with the rest of the secondary salvaging team made up of church members. Their goal was to reclaim anything of use in the garage. As with every absent youngster as of late, all islanders assumed she had attempted to return to her most recent outing, surely offering adventure and discovery. Just like last time, no other children had disappeared. Additionally, none had reported any of their friends being taken by peevies. It was altogether a strange situation.

  Most might not initially realize automobile repair equipment would be a prized commodity after any apocalypse. However, drivers understood they wouldn’t be going long at all if they didn’t keep the juices in their motors flowing. Alternative fuels to gasoline would eventually be required, but it goes without saying that engines would still need maintenance long before petroleum became unstable. The first group of re-claimers had taken nearly everything, whether or not it had been nailed down.

  Brother Brown and his second string scouts frequently returned home without much to show for their troubles. Salvaging teams would have been considered bands of thieves before May Day. Imagine these groups of criminals had to worry about no one fighting back, at least during the daytime, and no law enforcement. They could steal to their collective heart’s content with no worries of repercussions. Now, picture the second group of bandits entering the same establishment with the exact same lack of constraints. If this other crew expected to find much of anything worth taking, they were usually disappointed. Commonly, ninety-nine percent of valuables were taken during that first raid, leaving little more than bare-bones for anyone else.

  Adults may have found the trips unsatisfactory, but any young children tagging along surely found what appeared to them to be huge empty buildings — fascinating enclosures, ripe for excitement. My years of parenting told me these inclinations were accurate. If she and her friends had gone to revisit the location unaccompanied by an adult, it was peculiar none of the other kids came forward with the fact that she had been taken. Even the most mischievous rascal typically puts the safety of a fellow above simply getting scolded. Did she make this journey alone? If so, did she reach her intended destination? I suppose we were at the Express Lube to find out just that.

  On the hunt for clues, we moved into “Zed’s.” The fact that this area had been scavenged multiple times over, including once just recently, indicated it wasn’t a lair. Sometimes, the first notions are wrong. Or should I say undead wrong?

  ☠☠☠

  You’d think the initial reclamation team would have at least opened one of the giant roll-up doors. It would have made searching the interior much less treacherous. As luck or fate would have it, every entrance was sealed. Our first steps into the deep structure would be through the most easily accessible, regular sized door at the front of the building.

  Pulling the blotted mask over my face, and replacing my fedora, I grasped the doorknob with the other hand. Both Phantoms lifted glow sticks from their bags, intending to brighten any blue monster’s day. In hindsight, this entire trip would’ve taken much less time if we had just used C4 on one of the damn garage doors!

  Holding open the door and gesturing with my arm, I smiled as they bounced their green lights off the inside of the opening, deeper into the structure. Angling to see inside the door without entering the shadows, I witnessed something akin to a science fiction/horror movie.

  A dark, steaming cavern lay inside this garage. What had to be metric tons of caked, black feces made up stalactites, stalagmites, and eerily beautiful formations that could be confused with rock. Puzzlement would immediately disappear when one took a breath! Images from Alien came to mind. Of course, if James Cameron had an over-the-top shit fetish.

  “But there were people here yesterday. How...?” my question trailed. The green Trooper swiveled his head in the direction of the black tinged armor.

  Doshi shrugged, just as confused. “What is it, sir?” He moved forward to peek into the enclosure, pullin
g back in surprise. “Well, looks like it’s time to make some new friends!” He chuckled.

  Was this even possible? Did we come to the wrong mechanic shop? None of the church scavenging team hinted at Zed’s being an active hive. Sighing, I knew we had a job in front of us. Whether or not we discovered the evidence we sought, we had a duty to the people of Guntersville. These animals would not get to our island. Always defend!

  “Let’s do it!” I rasped as I grasped the pummel of Ivory and stepped in the door.

  Behind me came The Phantoms, their tactical lasers already bouncing off the walls. Rajesh shut the door behind us and flipped the lock on the knob. Since becoming tolerant of sunlight, peevies have been known to enter a hive if the call for aid sounded. I would make sure they would be requesting help. Though it would only enrich the target environment, it would be best not to deal with undead coming at us from front and back.

  A quartet of naked, malnourished former humans appeared in front of me, staring with hungry, yellow eyes. Touching the back of my katana to my forehead, I spoke to my enemies. “I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with me.” One of the zombies made the first move as I lowered my blade.

  It took a step back and leaped at me, arms spread. Ivory cut straight through the airborne ghoul with no resistance. My bone handled blade remained entirely spotless after cleaving the revenant in half.

  Realizing everything below the sternum had just become separated, the infected knew true death was on its way. It widened its eyes and opened its mouth to let out a keening noise from lungs that would never again draw anything more than flies. My sword came back around to push the upper body at an angle where it would collapse into a dying heap on the cold floor at my side.

  The first and fourth contestants in line came at me simultaneously, one high and one low. Charging at me with a downturned head, my steel sliced evenly through the skull of one of the monsters. Blood, grey matter, and a surprising amount of mucus gushed out of the blooming blue cranium. All of this would have been a sight to behold, if not for the other incoming attacker.

  What would have been considered a dwarf or midget in life came bounding from the opposite angle. It wrapped its arms around me at about waist level, sending me hurling back. Dealing with a crazed blue Oompa Loompa trying to tear through my pants and trench coat wasn’t my greatest challenge. The last stand-out of the original four took this inopportune time also to launch itself in my direction.

  The rabid monster threw itself forward, arms back. Ivory was busy attempting to cleave the leg humper, so my secondary weapon would be required. My tanto was yearning for blood of its own.

  With my right hand, I fluidly slid Ebony from her scabbard and shot the short blade at the creature. It impacted in the center of the jugular notch, coming to a stop when the end met vertebra. The peevie seemed confused. Then it understood a giant, pointy blade just ended any chance at a future unlife it might have had. Whimpering was the only thing it could do, sinking to the floor within the next few steps.

  The stunted beast clawing at my pant leg was taking a much slower road to blue infinity. One would guess it would have stopped any kind of attack when I sliced down its back. I was filleting this thing alive! Screaming, with blood shooting out of the massive wound from the shoulders to the lower lumbar, it futilely kept up the insignificant assault.

  Instead of tinkling my sword down its spine once more, I chose to pull away and slam Ivory into the animal’s left side, just below the armpit. With the cardiac muscle nearly completely cleaved from life-sustaining arteries, it almost went utterly still. Only a dark, short, gurgling from between ass cheeks was heard.

  Rising, I turned to see my companions watching, slack-jawed like moviegoers. “Are you not entertained?!” Neither of them could understand the amazement on my face.

  “Yes, Staff Sergeant!” Mahatma let out a chuckle.

  The green-trimmed Trooper smacked his armored hands together with a laugh. “Bravo! That was a twisted comedy.”

  “Everything’s a joke, I guess,” I said with a sigh and a shrug. It was disturbing, yet simultaneously comforting that anyone could enjoy watching such horrific violence.

  ☠☠☠

  Silently passing countless picked clean bones, I shuddered as we came across the remains of a person. Without being ordered, one of the Clone Troopers shined his light on a nearly intact adult skeleton. One arm was hammered away to the shoulder, the other to the elbow. This human must have bled out while the creatures chiseled away at the second arm. At least it was apparent this poor soul was not Brandy Hamric. I was sickened these demons were ever part of my species!

  Two red LED beams were like knives cutting through the darkness. Only the musky aroma of the untold tons of wet waste kept my mind on the objective. If not for that, it would have been easy to lose oneself in the all-consuming black and total silence. We had to find this girl before it was too late!

  Every oil pit was full to the brim with what looked like steaming tar. It was relieving not to find human beings trapped inside these pits or some other unimaginably sinister atrocity. As we crossed the expanse of the building and began approaching the main office on the far side, a howl sounded. Our hosts just realized that the guests had arrived.

  One of my guiding lights disappeared from the floor in front of me, soon followed by the other. A burst of automatic fire came as I spun. After a second, I understood what was happening. One of the HITs had been spear tackled from the side. His Indian brother was lending cover, in the form of lead flying down range.

  The peevies, jumping from car lifts, snarled and hissed as they closed. Rapid fire from a single H&K was putting a dent in the numbers, but at least dozens of shit covered monsters hesitantly closed in on the three of us. Ivory sang as she sliced through the air in front of me. I was ready.

  Rajesh readied his trishula, daring the beasts to get within reaching distance. His bursts would be replaced with three blades. His submachine gun dangled on its sling, unsuitable for close quarters combat.

  Mahatma rose after being forced to the ground. He cracked a flare and rolled it on the floor to the middle of the three of us. Lifting his bhuj from its sheath, he unscrewed the elephant head to give the weapon a blade on both ends. A dozen peevies were visible within line of sight of our tri-defense.

  A pair of former humans threw themselves at me, unexpectedly meeting cold justice from a slash of my katana. Ivory started singing a tune as a rainbow of organs colored the grey floor. Intestines, which looked to be full of burned, sloppy cornmeal, rolled out of the burst bellies. I continued slicing and dicing enemies as the HITs took part in their close quarter battles.

  Doshi stabbed the recurved tip of his axe knife into a sunken, blue cheek, driving the blade horizontally into the monster's mouth. The animal froze in place as if it mattered. When the end of The Phantom’s steel stuck through the other cheek, he forcefully pushed back, painfully beheading the thing while alive. Uvula, tonsils, sinuses, and ultimately all connection to the brain severed as the razor-sharp blade tore out the back of the skull.

  The head was now only attached to the rest of the body by two thin strips of what remained of the cheeks. As the body collapsed, the skull fell over forward. It was disturbing yet interesting to see the inside of a truly dead former human head. Of course, the insignificant membrane which kept it attached to the body broke free as it collapsed. Grey matter toppling to the floor as the skull emptied with a sick plop.

  Rushing at his center, the next unfortunate undead in line received the stiletto just below its left jaw. In less than a heartbeat, the black-trimmed Trooper pulled his weapon to him, blunt side of his axe blade first — the small stiletto carved into muscle and tendon before ripping through arteries on its exit. Dark, infected blood gushed from the torn neck. With only minutes to live, the scourge could perform no actions through the pain other than dropping to the floor.

  Mattu was dealing with his group of what had to be a dozen zombie
s. Shiva’s death dealer slammed into the gut of one creature, as all three blades began forcing their way through vital organs. The HIT jerked violently to the side, blade slicing from the center of the body out. Spine severed, the peevie’s lower body began dropping before the upper half was ready. Blue dermis ripped, the only thing keeping the pieces of the reanimated corpse attached. In the brief moments before meeting the blue Grim Reaper, it knew true pain.

  Pulling the trio of knives back, the green trooper violently forced his weapon out and up. The blades caught two demons in their genitals simultaneously. The center sword sliced through the outside of both thighs intermingling, the infected blood pouring down their legs.

  Pushing the trishula to the left, it drove deeper into the inner thighs of both creatures, sending arterial blood pouring. This move not only popped the heads of the minuscule Pez dispensers and cracked all four bloody snot filled robin’s eggs to emit a sulfuric tang, but it also jammed the middle blade deeper into the thigh of the leftmost animal. There was no way it could survive all the other injuries. On top of that it's hip was surely dislocated. Chunky blood, what looked like egg whites, and of course feces poured on the floor before the monsters could fall, touching, yet clearly remaining separate substances.

  Rajesh retracted the staff and plunged it forward again. Destroying another undead husk, followed by yet another rabid scourge, he was slicing the contingent of enemies into pieces. The three of us dropped more than enough peevies to level the playing field, at least for the moment. More enemies would undoubtedly re-spawn as soon as we entered the next room.

  Gallons of crimson coated the floor, causing the already slick cement to become as slippery as a sheet of stinking, red ice. A zombie charged me, screaming, arms down and back. It was unclear if the demon was attempting to gain better speed through an aerodynamic pose. Maybe it used to be an Olympic athlete. No matter, this was how it started its strange run.