Zombie Paradise Lost: Still Alive Book Six

by Javan Bonds

  So powerful was the punch, mucus started pouring from the nostrils. Did the blow rupture or simply loosen sinuses? That would never be discovered because the very next move of the first Avenger was to slam the white star of his shield directly into the nose of the beast. It collapsed onto its back, surely unconscious if not in a coma. Robert followed by swiping the sharpened edge of the shield across the neck, almost decapitating the beast. He made sure it would soon be meeting its blue maker.

  A zing sounded as Ivory came out of her scabbard. My katana nearly pulled me in the direction of the other two superheroes surrounded with bleeding, sliced up bodies and severed appendages. The intense call for battle and blood had to be answered. Waiting was tedious for what looked to be two frail, jittery, former senior citizens, now crazed monsters, stumbling down the hall; seemingly wanting to die. Unable to watch the tiresome trot, I surged into the oncoming zombies.

  The geriatric peevies were standing side-by-side. I intended to raise my blade and slice down at an angle through the skull of the dilapidated male exiting above the left arm. Then continue into the dried-up female opposite slicing through its midsection and pelvis exiting out below the right knee. Bringing my steel to the beginning of its downward arc, I quickly realized things wouldn’t be going as planned.

  Ivory sliced into the scalp of the first reanimant before clanging against something metallic. The force of the blow pushed what I later discovered to be a metal plate away from the weak cranium. It squished into the grey matter obviously causing instantaneous brain death, ending the immediate threat posed by this poor excuse for a zombie. Even though you wouldn’t guess it, the true risk to life came in the form of the rickety female to its right.

  Before I could regain my fighting senses after the unexpected stop in my attack, the fumbling gallop of the barely living undead female became a superhuman acrobatic sprint. It threw itself on me, using less than a hundred pounds of body weight to send me crashing onto my back, somehow knocking my katana out of my hand.

  Suddenly grappling with the impossibly strong monster on top of me, I fumbled for Ebony with the other hand. The beast deftly, pried my defensive forearm away from my body, using fingers that were undoubtedly arthritic mere months ago. It then slid the fingers of its other hand between the opening of my mask and my neck. I was really about to lose to an enemy that could've, at one time, been my great-grandmother!

  “Does this thing even have teeth?” I wondered aloud as I furiously struggled against its inhuman strength. As if to answer, it opened a set of black, rotten, and bloody choppers and clapped them together. Small yellowish glinting could be seen between clacking.

  This was it. I was about to become infected by a ghoulish waif of a grandmother that magically became undead wonder woman. It was craning its neck to take a bite of Asian food when something miraculous happened.

  As I watched my own death approaching, unable to do anything but scream in impotent rage, the balding skull of the revenant disappeared. Truly dead, the reanimated corpse now collapsed onto me — what seemed like gallons of crimson gushing from the now open neck. Of course, similar amounts of liquid onyx rolled out the other end. After a second, I realized what happened.

  Lifting my chin, my eyes moved up and behind me to see my Savior. It was Ghost Rider, standing with a slack logging chain in his hand. Because their melee weapons were somewhat ranged and not exactly rapid-fire, Benji and his co-pilot had allowed the three of us to move up while watching, ready if needed.

  Landers must have seen my predicament and stepped in to save the day. No reason to place any type of supernatural-ness on his intervention. He was just in the right place at the right time, like any military serviceman would always be.

  “Glad to see you made it.” I chuckled at the leather-clad hero.

  As he reached out his hand to help me up he returned, jovially. “You’re always where you are always supposed to be.”

  After doing my best to wipe the detritus from my clothes, it was obvious my shirt and pants would need incinerating. But thankfully the blotted Rorschach mask remained pristine, untouched by the filth.

  It was funny that like in comic books or movies, the faces and images of the champions remain pure. Enemies both foreign and domestic, may make sweeping blows and seem to take the upper hand. However, good always triumphs over evil.

  My companions taking part in the brawl were wrapping up– or slicing up– the festivities with their last few playthings. There were enough dismembered limbs and fresh organs littering the blood-drenched floor that it was safe to say humans wouldn’t be using this building anytime soon. We would be doing the rest of the survivors a favor by burning the place to the ground when we left. Even anything sealed inside that recently discovered freezer had undoubtedly been permeated by the rotten food or the naturally creative vinegar.

  Inside the insulated unit, we discovered a container of Welch’s grape juice full of what appeared to be red wine vinegar. Strange. Mrs. Collins, the mayor’s wife, later explained to me how this was possible.

  ☠☠☠

  “You might not think it would happen, but vinegar can occur spontaneously in nature. Especially when the juice has been sweetened with sugar. When left at room temperature with no great disturbance, fruit juice can ferment and ultimately become vinegar.”

  ☠☠☠

  This was surprising. It didn’t take some human involvement to create the substance? Though I didn’t ask her, my next question would’ve been; did the juice turn to vinegar while the door remained sealed, or had the fermentation happened instantly when touched by air? That just figures! Things remained completely placid until humans, attempting to leave as small a footprint as possible, enter the scene. Fuck you and your cats Schrodinger.

  Not even bothering to look through any of the supplies in the walk-in freezer, we finished our search of the skeletal remains of Cracker Barrel. There was absolutely nothing worth taking and no evidence of the missing girls.

  Frankly, I was wondering if they had even come with their parents to this empty building. Accustomed to finding no trace of any of the missing children up to this point, I accepted the disappointment with much more grace than the leading Naval Flight Officer.

  Collins was the first to storm out the door in the direction of the chopper. “Fuck it! There’s nothing here. This whole exercise was another complete waste of time.”

  From behind him, Amy snickered. “Yeah, but I had fun, for reals!”

  Sighing, I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket. Last out of the door, I set it alight and tossed it over my shoulder. “Amy’s right, it wasn’t a total loss. We took care of some infected that won’t be posing a problem to anyone else from now on.”

  Devin interrupted me with some strange, seemingly prophetic wisdom. “You’ll find out more about the kidnapper, next time! Tune in to see our heroes tackle the caper of The Disappearing Children! Same Shit-Time, same Shit-Channel.”

  Did my stories of Brother Brown convince him that the kids were being abducted by a living human? He spoke as if he had prior knowledge of this. He was also confident that it would be me to solve this mystery. Maybe his presumptions would be affirmed.

  As the five of us boarded Skywalker, Captain America attempted to lift the spirits of Indiana Jones. Shrugging he pronounced, “What we came for wasn’t found, but we didn’t lose anyone else. Let’s take this one on the chin and keep on trucking.”

  With that, Devin started up the rotors, ending any chance of conversation. As we lifted into the air and turned back to Guntersville, the restaurant was being consumed by flames. Only our memories and stories of the frantic melee that took place inside Cracker Barrel will remain. To those that haven’t experienced the ungodly horror known as peevies, would our tale be believed?

  32

  Black Moon Rising

  Damit! Here comes that idiot, “what’s his name?...Hamprick?”, and his bumbling retard buddy, Olson. “That chili was out of this world, brother! We both
just finished our second servings.”

  The man that could be ultimately thanked for the main attraction of the community potluck spoke. “I heard about your tacos. I would love to get me some of that!”

  Not only are all these people stupid as shit, every goddamn one of them is as greedy as me. Those two little bitches made up more than enough for what I brought tonight. I guess that’s why they say “parts is parts!”

  “Praise be to our Father for allowing me to share this bountiful harvest with the faithful!” Brother Brown grew somber. “Maybe we can get a cow slaughtered from Brother Williamson’s herd. I still have some taco seasoning...”

  Both recently bereaved fathers deflated. “We were hoping you still had some of that freeze-dried meat. That stuff tastes perfect!”

  Are you fucking shitting me? Does human flesh have some addictive quality? I was going to eat them myself, you rotten motherfuckers! Not much longer and they won’t even care they’re eating their fucking children. I’ll be able to tell them where I’m getting the meat; then they’ll be lining their goddamn kids up for the meat grinder!

  Smiling sheepishly, The Wolf looked around for his wife, making an offer. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Brown and see if there’s any to scrounge up.” Guess I’ll need to do some hunting!

  ☠☠☠

  The sun was setting low in the sky.

  Almost every single member of the congregation nearly fucking worships me because I know how to make their kids taste just right!

  With the entirety of church members walking to their places of residence for the night, the preacher casually strolled to his truck to fish out a garbage bag. The Hefty bag contained a handful of small human skulls.

  Taking a stroll for a few blocks won’t kill me. Besides, I could use the exercise and burn off some of this extra fat... From the plump juicy meat, I’ve been chowing down on! He almost laughed out loud at the last thought.

  Mike Brown walked toward the courthouse, making sure to keep his distance from any occupied buildings. Don’t want any of these stupid bastards noticing their messianic shepherd and coming out for a chat. I’ve got people to defame.

  Sliding into the lengthening shadows he made his way to the south side of the building, where he found a darkened alley to place the false evidence. Perfect! Reaching into the “bag of bones” he pulled out one of the small bleached skulls. Holding it up he examined the small hole in the middle of the forehead. Which one are you? Brandy? Tommi? One of the others? Mentally questioning one of the small heads, he found the situation comical! Like I give a goddamn. No one else will either. They’ll see some little kids’ bones and bye-bye Mayor Collins!

  Wedging one skull between the building face and the dumpster; he shattered the second on the opposing brick building, and the rest he dumped into the open waste receptacle. Brother Brown was ecstatic that this had been so easy. It’s like one of those movies where the bad guy wins. Nobody can stop me now. I’ll be the king of this little bumfuck island!

  Barely holding back a maniacal cackle, he dropped the plastic bag. Not like I gotta worry about fucking fingerprints! The pastor hadn’t initially seen anyone when he looked around, so he nearly screamed when a voice came from behind him. “Brother Brown? What are you doing?”

  Spinning on his boots so fast, his cowboy hat nearly came off his head. Grabbing the brim, he didn’t do a convincing job of sounding nonchalant. “Oh...Hey…Hunter…I, uh, was just doing a little cardio after dinner on the grounds. Missed y’all there tonight.”

  The Collinses and their usual entourage hadn’t attended most gatherings at the church for quite a while. Brother Brown, Hunter, and pretty much everyone else knew this. It just seemed like the Christian and neighborly thing to say. I just need to hold the little fucker’s attention on me.

  The boy craned his neck to peer at the façade on the other side of the alley. “Did you break something?”

  Sidestepping, the preacher tried to regain Hunter’s focus, but the saffron haired child moved his gaze to the dumpster. “Are those, bones?” the boy asked with growing trepidation.

  The supposed temporary replacement for The Man of God was about to have a heart attack. Crafty, he’d never been caught in this particular criminal fetish before. People can’t find out. This will ruin everything!

  Hunter took a step back and began to turn. “Mrs. Collins!” With only the thought of keeping his reputation pristine and flawless, The Wolf lunged.

  33

  The Missing

  “What, you a fucking fag now?”

  “No, baby. It just caught me in the act, and I had to stop it. Where else did you want me to take it?” The Wolf shrank under the chiding stare of his superior.

  Shrugging, The Alpha eased. “Well, it is blonde, and it looks like they feed it pretty good. No reason not to expand our menu. I guess we can at least try it out.”

  Brother Brown broke into a wide grin, feeling he had placated Lauren. “This gives us a wider range of candidates.”

  Scoffing, she glanced over at the boy, unconscious, with a black eye, and chained to the wall. “Maybe. But it’s another fucking male. You know how much I despise males.”

  Attempting to lighten the mood, he returned with his own shrug. “Ah, well, supplies are limited.”

  She smiled wickedly. “I guess you’re right. I want to crack its little balls and fry them up with butter and salt.”

  Mike’s eyes grew wide, and that wasn’t the only thing growing. “Oh my God, that’s so fucking sexy.” He started moving to her. “I just want to fuck you so bad!”

  Reaching down to grab his crotch, she seductively giggled. “All right. Let’s do it right here before it wakes up.”

  ☠☠☠

  After they finished, the Alpha trudged upstairs to prepare for some cooking. Her husband remained in the basement to make his own preparations. This is my favorite part! He turned the lights down, so it was almost completely dark, set his chair in its typical spot, moved the captive bolt gun beside it, and sat down to be the first thing Hunter saw upon waking.

  She can have her mountain oysters after I have my fun. Did she want to remove them while the thing was alive? That’s fucking sick! He chuckled quietly to himself.

  Stirring, Hunter began to open his unswollen eye. Cluelessness and dread made him uncharacteristically speak. “What happened? Where am I?”

  Masquerading so as to sound fatherly, the pastor soothed. “It’s okay; you just tripped.”

  That voice was recognizable to Hunter, and he immediately grew chilled. “No, I didn’t! You did it. You’re the one that’s been taking all the other kids, aren’t you?”

  The Wolf’s smile was nearly audible. “You’re a smart one. You caught me. You know, I wasn’t planning on taking you. You’re not like all the others I have taken. A little older and male, but I couldn’t let you tell anyone what you saw.”

  Standing, he picked up a shiny device, turned a knob and the hiss of pressurized air could be heard. Stepping into Hunter’s field of vision again he held up the device. “You know what this is? It’s a captive bolt gun. They are used in the cattle processing industry all the time. Hold on a second, and I will show you how it works!”

  Spontaneously, the young boy started screaming, calling for any savior. “Help! Help! Help!” Brother Brown was expecting this. That’s the reason he had calmly stepped out into the garage section of the basement, and started the small wood chipper placed there by the previous owners of the house. This would be used to ready the wood for some meat smoking, later to more easily dispose of some of the remains from the slaughtered animal, and simultaneously killed any of the noise.

  He walked back into the area where Hunter was chained — excited about what came next. It would be a new experience, a different taste for his palate. I wonder if the texture or consistency will be different. Fuck, I really don’t give a shit!

  Brother Brown was mere inches from pressing the bolt gun against its forehead when a crashing sound start
ed coming from the outer door.

  34

  The Realization of Sako

  I can see I’m not the only one taking these failed investigations hard. Every member of the department is sick of finding nothing. They are also aware it is starting to happen more often. The first child was taken quite some time before the second went missing. But now there are only a couple of days between the last two abductions.

  Some people were quick to deny that a human could have been responsible for the disappearance of the missing children. But as the rate increased there seemed to be a trend forming. Then these wild rumors trying to incriminate our fine Mayor started to spread. I’m convinced that he has no connection to the missing children other than our shared interest in ending this disturbing mystery. He and I, most assuredly, share suspicions about a most unlikely suspect. I must tread carefully where my investigation goes concerning one well respected local pastor. Finding answers will require some specialized detective work.

  Yawning and stretching theatrically, Detective Sako began speaking so everyone near can hear him.

  “I’m exhausted, people. I think I’m gonna take the rest of the night off.”

  Any law enforcement official knows coming up empty-handed time and again is depressing and tiring. None of the others had a problem with him going home early to get some much-needed rest.

  But I’m not going home. Now I will have a chance to do some unofficial investigating and surveillance concerning a certain cowboy preacher.

  “Sure thing, boss! We all know you can use a break,” Comes back as the general response from the rest of the policemen.