World of Dead | Vol. 1 | Issue 6

by Johnson, Broderick

  “Shut your mouth,” the man proceeded to say following the punch. With Wesley shaking off the stars in his eyes, the two men were easily able to untie him before pushing Wesley up face first against the wall. They forced his arms behind his back and tied his wrists together so that Wesley was disabled from slipping out of their grasp.

  From there, the men began to move Wesley towards the door and then down the hallway. For the first time in almost a day, Wesley could see the light coming through the window. It was clear to him, before they had even opened the doors, that the sun was setting. This frustrated Wesley even more than he already was because now another day was gone when he should’ve been to Montreal the day before.

  The men shifted Wesley’s position as one of them kicked the door open while the other escorted Wesley from behind. The cool evening air of New York hit Wesley in the face reminding him of what it had felt like to wait out by the softball field only a day before. After spending an entire day locked in a dark room, however, that felt nice. It also reminded Wesley just how pointless it was to even make the trip to the school like he had. All for that girl.

  His escorts led him past some tennis courts and around a corner to where a small crowd had been gathered. The closer they got, the easier it was for Wesley to identify everybody that was standing there. He noticed the leader first, with his tall structure and thick facial hair, standing in front of the group. Right next to him, though, was Kyra.

  “For the sake of being fair,” the leader said as Wesley’s escorts halted him right in front, “I will offer you one last chance. Tell us where your…”

  “Sir, with all do respect,” Wesley interrupted, “I have wasted enough time at your bullshit community. Can we just get this over with?”

  The leader was discouraged by Wesley’s attitude. He frowned momentarily and looked back to his left towards Kyra. There was another man by Kyra’s side as well, although, he didn’t look as enthused by Wesley’s appearance as Kyra and the leader did.

  “Fine,” the leader replied, “I’ll make it simple.”

  He then took a few steps to his left and pointed at a batting cage. The sunset was the only light source around and it was fading quickly so the dark of the night was beginning to set in. The batting cage had a door that was closest to their side of the cage and on the far end there was a piece of plywood blocking something.

  The leader opened the door and the two men pushed Wesley inside of it before the leader closed the door behind him. The leader then began to explain the situation, “This is your opportunity to leave freely. Fight your way out and survive; we will allow you to walk away from this place and go back to your friends. Otherwise, your only other option is to die.”

  “Awesome,” Wesley replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and turned to face the plywood. He could see the fingers of the undead monsters that were behind it as they clawed to try and get to him. Suddenly the sounds of the groaning hit him hard. He looked over his shoulder at the leader and said, “Do I get a weapon?”

  “It’s easy to act like a man when you walk into a school with an assault rifle,” the leader answered, “Unless you want to tell us where your friends are? Let’s see how much of a man you can be with your hands.”

  Wesley looked past the leader and found Kyra staring at him. She literally looked at him as if he was an animal in a cage. Wesley slowly shook his head and extended his arms out in sarcastic fashion as he spoke to her, “I guess this is what I get for saving your life?”

  No response. Not even a change in the expression on her face.

  Wesley found himself smiling as he nodded in disbelief. Once again, it was time for him to improvise. One of the two men that had escorted him made his way over to the plywood from the outside of the batting cage. At the top and bottom of the cage there was a metal pole that looked similar to rebar used in construction. It extended across the cage keeping the piece of plywood in place.

  The man pulled the rebar out and allowed the piece of plywood to fall. Now, standing twenty-five feet in front of Wesley were a dozen, maybe more, of the monsters. Prepared to eat every last bit of Wesley’s body. It truly was going to come down to this, in his mind. If he was able to survive this, then he was truly meant to live in this world, his mission to Montreal would continue, and he would get to fight another battle.

  “If you want a fighting chance,” the leader shouted, “You should back up to the cage so that we can cut the rope from your hands.”

  Wesley ignored him. Instead, he bent down and brought his arms to his feet. Wesley then stepped through his own arms with his feet and brought his hands back to the front of his body. He had been handcuffed before so it was no secret to him on how he was able to get his hands to the front of his body. However, Wesley was not going to let these people help him. Not after they put him in a cage to fight for his life like he was some form of entertainment.

  Wesley then prepared to fight. He knew that their strongest weapons were their teeth. Even when their hands grab onto you, it’s not too difficult to break their grip and slip free. The trouble was going to be getting away from a group of twelve of them. He had to separate them somehow.

  He looked around to see what his environment was. In the corner closest to him, there was an “L” screen that is used for coaches to throw baseballs for their players to hit. It protects the coaches from a ball coming back and hitting them after they throw it. Wesley knew that it would be heavy, but he had to give it a try.

  Wesley quickly pulled the screen from the corner and began to drag it out so that he could get behind it. The monsters were slow in their approach, but when you spend time dragging a heavy obstacle to put in their way they somehow get there quick enough to make it a problem. Within minutes he was hiding the screen as hands reached for him from the other side.

  Now what? Wesley tried to think about what he was going to do next. He had no weapons and the monsters had all the time in the world. He couldn’t wait there forever. Plus, he really did want to give the pieces of garbage on the outside of the cage a show that they would enjoy.

  One of the monsters began to lean its upper body over the shorter part of the screen which left Wesley with no choice. He began kicking at the monsters head as it fell closer and closer to the ground. Eventually, the monsters head found itself flat on the ground with his legs still kicking into the air and its arms still reaching for Wesley’s legs. With no motor control, it seemed helpless to push up against its own weight.

  Wesley slammed his foot down into the temple of the monsters head over and over. He could feel the skull crushing beneath his feet, but he didn’t care. He kept stomping and stomping while blood splattered all over his pants and clothing. Finally, Wesley came back to reality.

  The blood, he thought. It was then that Wesley came up with a strategy for the first time. He wasn’t even sure if it would work, but it was worth a try. Wesley reached back and found a sharp corner of fencing behind him. He quickly placed his hand on the fence and pulled hard.

  It hurt, but Wesley needed to find a way to get himself to bleed.

  The fence cut deep into the side Wesley’s hand and the blood began to flow. Quickly, Wesley began to rub his hand on the edge of the screen that was protecting him and watched as his plan began to work. The monsters were attracted to his blood. It was almost as if they could sense it.

  One by one, they began to herd up on the side of the cage as they tried to lean down and taste the blood that Wesley had been spreading. Continuing with his thought process, Wesley started spreading his blood onto the fence itself close to where that side of the screen was so that the smell would be overwhelming.

  Finally, a hole opened. Wesley jumped over the short part of the screen, avoiding the dead monsters legs, and then he stopped to pull the dead body back over. It was a good hundred and fifty pounds of dead weight, but Wesley grabbed hold of the body’s shirt collar to get a good grip despite his hands still being bound. He proceeded to use the body as a shield a
s he pushed back the remaining attackers, knocking them to the ground.

  He finally had more space and a good six or seven of them were too occupied with finding his blood in the corner of the cage that they didn’t even realize where he actually was. Wesley found himself standing on the plywood that had fallen down when the escort pulled the rebar from the cage.

  If the remaining two pieces of rebar had not been so large in length, then Wesley could’ve used them as weapons. However, considering the fact that they extended through the cage and were designed to hold the piece of plywood in place, he didn’t have an option to use them. Especially with his hands bound.

  Instead, Wesley pulled the piece of plywood over the long piece of rebar that was suspended a few inches off of the ground. This piece was put there to keep the plywood from sliding out beneath the two long pieces of rebar that were put on each side of the plywood at the top of the cage.

  With the plywood elevated partially off of the ground, Wesley used his weight and slammed his foot down, cracking a piece of the plywood. He continued to do so until a long piece of plywood had been completely broken off from the much larger square that was there to block the monsters in the first place.

  He finally had his weapon. Wesley took a firm grip of the thin piece of wood. It wasn’t thick enough to smash their heads in, but it did come to a point. Quickly, Wesley moved to the far end of the cage where he wedged the plywood into the corner and then he waited.

  Slowly the monsters began to leave their post at the other end of the cage where Wesley had intelligently spread his blood. They had begun to smell it leaking from his hand directly and, one by one, they were on their way towards him. Because of their lack of motor skills, many of the monsters found themselves tripping over the rebar that lay at the bottom of the cage.

  It seemed to repeat itself so fast that it was over quicker than anybody had imagined it. Each monster that approached Wesley would trip over the rebar, try to get up and upon standing they would find Wesley grabbing them and pushing them face first into the sharp piece of plywood that he had wedged in the corner. He would then continue to pull their body off of the sharp piece and throw them to the side as the next monster approached.

  Ten monsters came and ten monsters were thrown face first into a sharp stake, promptly ending their undead lives. When the commotion came to an end, Wesley noticed that only one of the monsters remained. It was still licking and gnawing at the blood that Wesley placed on the screen as if it hadn’t even noticed the others leaving it behind.

  Confidently, Wesley pulled the now blood and brain soaked piece of wood from the corner and began to approach the last surviving monster. However, he needed to make a point to his capturers that he wasn’t a part of this group that they originally thought him to be a part of. In one swift motion, Wesley grabbed the remaining beast by its collar and slammed it face first into the gate that they had thrown him through.

  Wesley was angry and frustrated. He had wasted so much time on trying to save a girl that literally threw him to the wolves. Now, he was only focused on one thing. His hands were still bound by the rope that they had tied and his clothes were soaked in the blood of the dead. He didn’t flinch though, as he looked the leader in the eyes.

  “Where’s Kyra?” Wesley asked. The leader began to shake his head, but Wesley spoke before he could refuse, “I just killed a dozen of these things with nothing but a piece of plywood! You locked me in a cage and accused me of being something that I am not! Now, I just want to say one thing to Kyra before I go free.”

  “Say it,” Kyra’s voice rang over the shoulder of the leader. He turned to look back and revealed her standing a few feet behind him. She looked just as angry and pissed off as Wesley was. He was glad, too. If him surviving pissed her off, then that’s what she deserved for abandoning him like that.

  “Just so you know,” Wesley said in a clear and stern voice, “I didn’t have to stop on the highway to save your life.”

  “So why did you?” Kyra interrupted, “Because you wanted to take me back to your friends? What were you planning on doing with me?”

  “I have no friends,” Wesley announced, “Yesterday was the first time that I had ever been to Albany in my entire life! You know what I saw? I saw a girl holding two babies on the highway ready to die. You had given up, but they haven’t. They deserved a chance to survive even if you didn’t think so. That’s why I stopped on the highway.”

  The group was silent. Kyra now stared at Wesley with tears building in her eyes. She wanted to apologize. Everything was a misunderstanding and the reality of the situation was that she didn’t want to allow herself to trust anyone anymore. Not Wesley, Tom, or Truex. Kyra, truthfully, didn’t care to be alive anymore after everything that she had been through. She was going to let Wesley die so that she could move on.

  Kyra opened her mouth to apologize, but Wesley spoke first and this time he spoke to Truex as he said, “I’m sure you have found my bag of ammunition by the softball field, right?”

  Truex nodded. His face also showed some regret. From his perspective, he thought that he was doing the noble thing. Standing up for his people, standing up for Kyra, and putting an end to the reign of this group of men that had been terrorizing them. The truth was that he hadn’t put an end to it. He framed an innocent man who was just concerned for Kyra and the babies.

  Wesley continued, “I want my rifle and my ammunition. You can put the rifle in the bag if you want and you can give me the bag and drop me off at my motorcycle, but that’s the deal. That’s what you owe me after you put me through this hell.”

  He was firm and strong in his voice. Everybody that was listening knew that he was no longer playing any games. Why would he? Wesley had more important things to do than play survival games with these morons. Truex nodded and Wesley let go of the remaining monster so that he could ram the plywood through the back of its head finally ending the last life that night.

  Wesley was then escorted to a van where he sat in the back until Truex joined him. One of the escorts began to drive to a location as Wesley had instructed them. Truex held onto Wesley’s bag until they finally got to the destination. The silence was finally broken as Truex handed Wesley his bag.

  The moon was the only source of light on that night. Wesley’s bike hadn’t been touched since being left there the morning prior. Just as he was about to mount his bike, Truex spoke to him saying, “You may not accept it and I understand, but I do apologize.”

  “How many people have you locked up in that cage?” Wesley asked in a very frustrated tone, “Huh? Captain?”

  “Just you,” Truex admitted, “And I will never do it again.”

  “Why?” Wesley argued, “Because I showed you how easy it is to survive it?”

  “No, you definitely know what you’re doing,” Truex admitted, “The amount of guilt I had as soon as I locked the door behind you was overwhelming. I’m a good person at heart and I’m sorry that I didn’t show that. My people deserve some kind of safety and right now they don’t have that.”

  Wesley didn’t argue with that. He knew that whatever this man’s community was going through, it was worse than anything Wesley was going through. On the inside, he understood why the leader had done it. More or less, Wesley was mad at himself for getting off track from his real goal.

  “Good luck on your journey,” Truex said, “I wish we had met under different terms.”

  With that, Wesley started his bike and took off. Truex and his van followed Wesley for a bit before taking the exit off of the highway that would lead them back to the school. Wesley looked in the mirror and watched them exit and finally he felt free again. His next stop was Montreal and he wasn’t stopping before then for anything or anyone this time.

  Truex sat in the passenger seat of the van as one of his friends and members of his community drove. He wasn’t lying to Wesley; the amount of guilt was overwhelming. At that moment, Truex had no way to justify what he had done.

&n
bsp; “Don’t blame yourself, man,” the driver said, “We all discussed it. We gave him the options.”

  “We should’ve given him the chance to explain himself,” Truex explained, “We are becoming too involved with this gang. They control us with fear right now. I just wanted to instill some confidence back into the people.”

  The van pulled down the street that headed towards the high school, but upon driving by the parking lot that was closest to the gymnasium, they noticed something terrifying. Parked by the doors of the gym were a bunch of pickup trucks and Truex knew what that meant. The driver pulled into the parking lot and hit the brakes. He and Truex exited the van and burst through the exterior doors of the gym to find it filled with their people.

  They all stood on the gym floor staring in the direction of Truex. Standing in between him and his people, however, was the man that he feared. His name was Jackson and he was the leader of the group that Truex mistook Wesley to be apart of. Truex was tall, but Jackson equalled him in height. He was thick with muscle and wore a t-shirt to show it despite the cold temperature outside. His face showed scruff and his eyes were determined. He truly looked sinister as he held his own assault rifle at his side.

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t joining us,” Jackson said as an evil grin appeared on his face, “It’s time to choose.”

  Written By Broderick johnson

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  'World of Dead' is a short-story series with new issue's being released on the first of every month. For updates on where to find more 'World of Dead,' visit @BroderickWrites on Instagram or www.facebook.com/broderickwrites.