Jacked

by Shane McKenzie

  They’re jumping back in the river. Soaking up more slime.

  Sid wiped the fresh tears that had rolled down his face. There had to be a way out of the gym, he just had to think. He thought about getting to the roof somehow, but even if he did he wouldn’t know what his next move would be. Exhaustion started to set in and his thoughts were like static.

  Crow paced back and forth in front of one of the windows, glaring at the zombies and mumbling under his breath. He’d been doing it for a few hours now, not once looking away to address Sid or Gabe. He looked ready to break through the glass and attack the horde with his bare hands.

  “The TV!” Crow shouted. The exclamation came suddenly and Sid nearly jumped out of his shoes. “Maybe there’s something about this shit on the news. Change the fuckin’ channel, man, come on.”

  Sid grabbed the remote off the front desk. It had been centimeters away from getting smothered with the acidic vomit that had rocketed from that woman’s mouth. Her corpse still lay in the same spot, only a few feet away from her son, the slime congealed and thick around their bodies. The puke had eaten completely through the desk to expose the particle board beneath. It looked like some giant beast had taken a bite out of it.

  ESPN played on every monitor, and it continued to loop the highlights from last night’s basketball games between commercial breaks.

  Sid flipped the channel to the local news stations, expecting to see panicked reporters, raw footage of the slime running through the streets. But the first channel was a rerun of Mash. The next was a rerun of Seinfeld.

  “This can’t be right…what the fuck, man?” Sid cycled through the channels twice, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Not a single mention of the slime or the fat green zombies it was creating. No breaking news stories, just sitcoms and infomercials. He checked the clock. “The morning news should be on by now…what the hell is this shit?”

  “The goddamn government,” Gabe said from across the gym. His arms were crossed as he glared at the screen nearest him. “It’s a cover up, man. And we’re fucked.”

  “Looks like we’re on our own,” Crow said. He laughed and shook his head. “Not that I’m surprised.”

  Sid continued to flip through the channels. “There’s got to be something…I’m not buying that conspiracy bullshit—”

  “Conspiracy bullshit?” Gabe swung his attention from the TV to Sid. “Are you serious right now? Look outside, Sid! Look at those fucking things bleeding slime on the floor.”

  Sid dropped the remote and clawed at his scalp. “Well what the fuck are we supposed to do now!”

  Crow chuckled and pushed past Sid toward the front counter. He went for the shelves aligned with supplements and equipment for sale, grabbed a Met-RX bar and unwrapped it. Sid watched him take a bite and his stomach churned in response. The last meal Sid had eaten was lunch the previous day, and he didn’t realize how hungry he was until he watched Crow’s teeth sink into the chocolate protein bar.

  “I don’t know what you two got planned, but I know what I gotta do.” Crow shoved the rest of the bar into his mouth and chewed it sloppily as he turned back toward the window closest to him. Green splashes thrashed the glass and the zombies groaned. The sunlight sparkled off their slimy skin. “I gotta prepare.”

  Sid wanted to plead for the big guy’s help, wanted them all to work together, figure something out. Come up with a plan to get the fuck out of there. But Crow shoved Sid backward, tossed the Met-RX wrapper aside and wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm.

  “You little fuckers stay outta my way.” Crow snickered and mumbled under his breath as he strolled back toward the weight lifting area.

  Sid thought he heard the words “God” and “test.” Then he remembered what Gabe had said about Crow. That he was crazy. That he spent time in prison. Brain probably mush from steroid abuse.

  Gabe flinched as Crow stomped past him. The musclehead paused midstride to glare at Gabe, look him up and down and flex his pecs at him. Even as Gabe scurried away from him and toward Sid, Crow watched him.

  And then the big bastard slapped some weights onto a bench bar and lay beneath it. All of the 45-lb plates were stacked up by the front door, so it was 35-lb weights lined up to the edge and held in place by metal clip collars. Crow roared as he lifted, the bar arching slightly, and exploded into his reps.

  Sid’s hunger was consumed by the tingling sensation of dread as he watched Crow lift. The man slammed the bar back down, jumped to his feet, and slammed his fists into his chest. His teeth looked like the jaws of some jungle beast as he faced the window, flexed, and growled. The veins snaking across his massive muscles looked ready to burst as he bellowed.

  Green puke slapped against the building in response.

  Crow sprinted toward the window and smashed his forehead against it again and again until an oval of blood was smeared across it.

  He turned toward Sid and Gabe and smiled. Then started his second set.

  ***

  A massive man bent over to scoop up the slime at his feet and spoon it into his mouth with his cupped hands. His globe-like glutes pressed against the glass and a thick green stew sprayed out of his distended anus and cascaded down the pane. The child-sized zombie next to him pulled both cheeks outward, splitting its upper and lower lips at the center like earthworms as streamline vomit rocketed from its throat. Steam swirled through the air like ghosts escaping their graves.

  The day had turned to night again, and at some point during the day the air conditioner had gone out. The air in the gym grew humid, sucking the sweat from Sid’s pores.

  Crow had finally stopped lifting. The man was an absolute machine and had moved from set to set as if each exercise only made him angrier. He’d been at it the whole fucking day, taking breaks here and there to walk the length of the gym and ogle the zombies through the glass, rambling on and on, glaring at them like an agitated, caged lion. Sid had kept his distance, not even wanting to look in Crow’s direction. Crow would slam his fists into his chest, stomach, deltoids, and thighs as he stared the zombies down. He’d slap himself, smash knuckles into his forehead and scalp.

  And that’s how it went all day. It seemed like Crow had hit every piece of equipment in the gym. Sid and Gabe had barely spoken at all, both of them taking turns watching the musclehead lose his mind and the zombies baste the windows with their acidic spew.

  But as the sun dipped and gave way to the moon, Crow had ripped one of the mats from the window where Sid had taped it up, laid it out on the floor, and went to sleep on top of it. His snores rattled the thick atmosphere within the gym.

  Sid’s stomach grumbled, and he reached out and plucked a protein bar from the shelf, wincing as the wrapper crinkled. He shot a look toward Crow, but the snoring continued, and Sid bit a third of the bar off and chewed enthusiastically.

  Gabe clutched his stomach and grimaced as he watched Sid eat.

  “You should eat something,” Sid whispered.

  “Not hungry.” Gabe said. “And just watching you chew is making me nauseous.” He had been sitting Indian-style against the wall behind the counter, and he slowly rose to his feet and stepped around Sid toward the closest window. A bloated man and woman, the light in their eyes reigniting as the night around them grew darker, marinated the glass as they watched Gabe approach.

  “Stay away from there, man. Come on.” Sid shot a quick glance at Crow to make sure the commotion hadn’t woken him, but the zombies closest to the sleeping musclehead continued their assault on the window and it did nothing to rouse him.

  “We’re cut off, man. Whatever the fuck that shit is out there causing all this…it doesn’t take a fucking biochemist to figure out the government’s got something to do with it. Right?” Gabe pressed his hands against the glass and studied the fluid dripping down on the other side. “And you know they don’t like exposing their fuck ups. I wouldn’t be surprised if a nuke was on its way right now. To send our little town straight to hell. Where no
body will ever know what happened.”

  Sid pulled Gabe away from the window. Gabe had a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as if he’d just remembered something funny from his past. “Come on, man. Please stop talking like that, okay? It won’t do us any good to think about what caused all this. We need to figure out what the fuck we’re gonna do about it. Because I’m starting to wonder if we might not be safer outside than in.” Gabe jerked his head backward toward Crow’s sleeping form. “I mean shit, maybe there is help coming. You don’t know for sure that there’s not. I can’t believe they’d just let our town drown in this shit, man. They can’t just let everybody die.”

  Gabe wrinkled his brow and turned away from Sid, shuffled off back behind the counter and sat down. He ran his fingertips over his leg and pursed his lips.

  Sid winced as the zombies groaned and washed the windows with bile. The wet splashing sound was constant, like heavy rain in an infinite thunderstorm. Everything had happened so quickly and out of nowhere, Sid still hadn’t convinced himself that the whole thing wasn’t some bizarre, fucked up nightmare.

  “How’s your leg?” Sid said, trying to break the awkward silence.

  Gabe slapped the bare, smooth-looking leg and snickered. “It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt at all. Actually, it hasn’t bothered me for a while now.”

  “You feel…you know. You feel all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m telling you, I washed that shit off me before it could get in deep enough. I’m good.” He took a look at the backs of his hands and clicked his tongue. “That shit fucking burned when it touched me, though. Like hot grease. I thought I was gonna fuck up my hands when I grabbed that…that thing’s arm. It burned a little, but nothing like my leg.” He flexed his fingers.

  “But you don’t feel weird?”

  “I’m not going to turn into a fucking zombie, okay? I pinkie swear.” Gabe held up his pinkie and smirked.

  Sid took a long look at the pinkish skin on his friend’s hand.

  “I’m fucking with you,” Gabe said as he spread out and lay on the floor. “Maybe that big fucker’s got the right idea.”

  “About what?”

  “Getting some sleep, man. I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. Been one long fucking day.” He swung his thumb like he was calling a cab. “Those things can’t get in here. Not tonight anyway.”

  Sid’s body begged him for sleep, but he didn’t know if he could. Not with the splashing and gurgling sounds. Not with the thunderous snores from the beast across the gym.

  It didn’t take long for Gabe’s snores to contribute to the ruckus. He slept with his mouth open, the snores little more than a light rattling sound. But he looked peaceful. As Sid watched him, his eyes began to shut, and he curled up into a ball and lay on his side.

  His dreams were soaked in slime.

  ***

  “Hey.”

  Smack, smack, smack.

  Sid came screaming back into consciousness. He gasped for breath and hoped that the entire thing had been a nightmare, but then Crow smacked him again. Sid blinked and then flinched when he realized Crow was standing over him, a foot on either side of his hips.

  “Wake up. I need a spot.”

  Sid shot a glance at Gabe who was just starting to sit up. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

  “You stay right fuckin’ there,” Crow said to Gabe and pointed a finger that looked as hard as a fat nail. “Keep your ass away from me, you understand?”

  “Y-yeah, man. It’s cool…” Gabe hid his mouth as he yawned then studied the floor. He wouldn’t look Sid or Crow in the eye.

  “Let’s go, kid. I’ve got a lot of work to do, and you’re wastin’ time.” He grabbed fistfuls of Sid’s shirt and hauled him up. Spun him around and patted him on the ass. “We don’t have much time, don’t you see? The glass is gettin’ weaker by the hour. And then all that hell will come pourin’ in here.”

  “Look, I…I don’t—”

  Crow shoved Sid so hard in the chest he left his feet for a second before crashing onto his ass.

  “I’m not askin’ you, motherfucker. Get your punk ass up.” Crow’s pecs took turns flexing. It didn’t look like the guy had an ounce of fat on him.

  Sid knew he should just shut the hell up and do what this big sonofabitch told him, but the words were flying from his mouth before he could swallow them back down.

  “What’s your goddamn problem, man? Shouldn’t we be thinking of a plan instead of fucking lifting weights right now?” Sid climbed to his feet so he could run if he had to, not that he would have anywhere to go. “Look at that shit out there, man. Let’s work together, okay? Let’s—”

  When Crow started walking toward him, Sid jumped back, was already starting to search for a weapon. But the big bastard strolled past him, sat at the incline press where a black duffel bag sat. He unzipped it, pulled out a plastic tray full of small glass bottles, and set them on the floor. Next came a syringe which he clamped between his teeth as he scooped the tray up lovingly with both hands.

  “What…what the hell are you doing?” Sid rubbed the back of his head, jumped when another splash of vomit hit the glass behind him.

  Crow pulled one small bottle from the tray, unscrewed the top. “Those things out there, zombies or whatever the fuck you wanna call ’em. They ain’t gettin’ me. They ain’t turnin’ me into one a them.” He plunged the needle in, filled it with the yellow liquid. He pulled down the waistband of his shorts to expose the pale flesh of his left buttock. Stuck the needle in and injected the steroids. His eyelids flitted and he grunted, bared his teeth. “I won’t let ’em.”

  Sid was at a loss for words as he watched Crow pull the needle from his flesh and toss it aside. His eyes swung across the gym toward Gabe who craned his neck to get a look at what was happening. When he noticed Sid looking in his direction, he widened his eyes and shook his head.

  “And what is your plan exactly?” Sid said. “You just gonna punch your way outta here?”

  Crow ignored Sid’s question, eyes shut, upper lip curled into a snarl. His nostrils flared and his eyes slowly rolled open. “This whole thing is a test. Can’t you see that? A fuckin’ test.” He shot off the bench in a flash and roared toward Sid, caught him by the back of the neck and squeezed as he forced him across the floor toward the window.

  Sid hissed, tried to plant his feet but was thrown forward effortlessly. “Come on, man. C-come…shit!”

  “Get your motherfuckin’ ass back over there!”

  It took Sid a second to realize Crow was talking to Gabe who had made his way across the gym, but was now backing away.

  Gabe put his hands up. “Just relax. We’re in this shit together. We—”

  “Not me and you, motherfucker. But this little piggy?” Crow gave Sid’s neck another squeeze. “He’s mine now. You get anywhere near us, I’ll fuckin’ stomp your head in. Just like that bitch bleedin’ green shit on the floor.”

  Gabe nearly tripped over the mauled woman as he continued to back away.

  Tears flowed freely down Sid’s face as he continued to struggle. His mind was made up now. He would gladly take whatever chaos was happening outside than be stuck here with this fucking lunatic.

  He’s mine now.

  Sid whimpered as his face was pressed hard against the glass. A shriek exploded from his throat as a splash of green blasted the window over his flattened cheek. The heat soaked into his flesh and he willed every muscle in his body to push himself away, even getting a couple of centimeters before Crow pushed him forward again. The woman who had spewed the slime pushed her face forward, smashed it against the window, and peered into Sid’s eye.

  The other zombies closest to the obese lady pushed in to her, scrambling to get close to Sid and smother the glass with their vomit. A man, the fattest he’d seen yet, his eyes nearly pinched shut by his massive cheeks, blew a tsunami of green from his maw. Twin streams hosed from his nostrils and squirted from his tear ducts. The
slime splashed over the woman and the other surrounding zombies, and they let it soak into their skin and lapped it off their lips with puffed-up tongues.

  “Oh fuck…pl-please. Let me go. Let go of me!”

  Crow pressed his forehead against the glass and smiled, locked eyes with another male zombie who smothered the window. “You feel the heat? This glass won’t last much longer, kid. And when it finally melts down and those things get in here, I’ll be ready. I’ve always been ready.”

  Crow cocked back and headbutted the glass. “Whoo! Come on, you motherfuckers!”

  “Please, just get me…get me away from the glass. Please!”

  Crow grabbed Sid by the backs of his arms and tossed him toward the incline press which was already stacked to the max with weight plates. “Spot me, you fuckin’ crybaby bitch.” He plopped down, twisted his fists over the bar. “And when I’m done, it’s your turn.”

  Before Sid could say another word, Crow lifted the bar and began his repetitions. Sid stood behind him, knowing damn well this son of a bitch didn’t need a spot. This whole thing was some sort of power play. Either that or Crow’s insanity was growing more potent by the second. Sid didn’t dare move.

  The plates clinked against one another as Crow lifted, tossing the massive weight into the air as if he were just warming up. Each rep was accompanied by a rough, gorilla-like grunt.

  Even if he needed me, I couldn’t lift this much weight.

  The bar was slammed backward onto the rack and Crow roared, stood up, pounded a fist hard against his chest. His skin glowed red and every vein stood out as sweat rolled down his acne-covered back. When he turned and faced Sid, ribbons of drool hung from his mouth which curled into a hideous grin. “Your turn.”

  Sid rounded the equipment, shot a quick glance behind him toward Gabe. His friend stood in front of the window, scraping the nub of his forefinger across its surface like he was trying to tickle it. Sid thought he could hear Gabe talking under his breath, but he couldn’t be sure.