Zombies Don't Ride Motorcycles

by Melissa Leo-Pahl

  Why?

  Why did this happen?

  Why are we still alive?

  Why are the dead hungry for our flesh?

  Why can’t they just STAY dead?

  Everyone keeps asking the same questions with no new answers we get lost in our thoughts. Our minds replaying lost memories on rewind, in hopes of purging the day’s events from its history. Grasping at some semblance of peace as we closed our eyes to sleep. Except for Byron. His eyes seem to hold more than his own demons. Their inner turmoil he keeps hidden with his menial tasks he constructs with every move he makes. He never wavers from his task.

  Protecting me, I think.

  Who would have thought that at seven years old I would have lost my mother to cancer? My father to the reaper in the dead of night? Leaving me to stumble upon a band of weapon yielding delinquents.

  My protector Byron has become the big brother she had never had. Just as the gun-toting Charlie seems to replace the mother I lost only a year ago. And Charlie’s addiction to Jace is just as prominent as his new addiction to Charlie. Ellie, is the sister I used to dream about becoming one day. But that dream died the night of the storm. Leaving me alone to carry on all that was my parents’ hopes and dreams. A legacy that will unfortunately end with me.

  Callen and Tren always try to make me laugh, telling me that it’s nice to know someone was as smart as them if not smarter. It makes this new playground somewhat bearable. They understand my intellect and do their best to make sure I stay a kid as long as possible. Even though it’s a little late for that. I have never really been a kid. Always too smart to play with the regular kids. Plus my time was better spent with my dad. I had already learned not to take any day for granted. I knew early on that it could very well be my last.

  Cross and Rhyce were as strong as they were loyal. Fearless to the end, just like her father, I’m sure. With a hint a mischief dancing in their eyes.

  “My family,” she barely whispered as her mind finds the clarity she had been longing for all night. Her eyes dancing from around the room at their bickering forms.

  “What’s that pipsqueak?” Rhyce’s voice booms over the squabbling.

  Clearing her throat, she rose from her crouch by the lantern, flicking away the used match. Compelling the people around her to pay attention to smallest body in the room, and the only one around her makeshift fire pit.

  “I said that you are all my family.”

  Her smile blinded everyone as each in turn nodded in agreement.

  “Damn straight we are.” Replied the brute.

  With a blood pact in place and no longer needing to hide just how smart she really was, she felt it was time to contribute to the plan. And she knew just the thing to take the bastard down, and if they were lucky, enough of his so called army would burn right along with him.

  Fayte knew now was definitely the time to let them in on her little secret. Her smile grew at the thought of ending this charade.

  ***

  The morning came and the packing began. Byron renewed his post, watching out for what he referred to as 'zombies-at-the-gate'. Surprisingly though there were no walkers to be found roaming the asphalt jungle outside. The boys had managed to sneak out quietly and bring their truck and back it up to the entrance for loading. Ellie and Jace were making themselves useful by helping carrying the various boxes they had packed. They had assembled a fairly good haul of supplies. With this many people not a part of the group, they would be lucky if it fed them all for a few weeks.

  They both stood quiet, rarely exchanging words. Jace still felt like a piece of what Ellie once was taken away, even though her attacker had not been successful. He feared that he would never see that smile again on his Ellie-Bell. The silences were uncomfortable enough, so they each filled them with whatever work they could find to do. Jace would just have to let his sister's emotional scars heal and harden on their own.

  Around the corner of the building, a motorcycle was walked quietly and placed against the wall. Patient Zero leaned in close, taking quick peeks out to survey the scene.

  No. Not those two. They are worthless to me.

  “But what about the little girl. She seems weak enough,” he mouthed to himself.

  Don't you remember the look in her eyes? She still has fire in them. No. We want the sick twin. She has the eyes of one who has already given up. Died inside.

  “Are you sure her sister will follow? She doesn't much look like she cares much for her sibling.”

  I am sure. Dead sure.

  Patient Zero peered around the corner again. Several other men walked out carrying more equipment and boxes. Not that he would have called them men. They were still young, untested in this crazed new world.

  Are we prepared? Did you do as I asked?

  “Yes. I moved the vehicles down the street for several blocks. Only my motorcycle will be able to weave around the cars. Mine. And hers.

  Then there she appeared. The stronger twin. Right on cue. Patient Zero felt the disembodied voice almost smile in his own head.

  Where there is one there is the other.

  Then Phoenix appeared through the door, holding her fist to her mouth as a coughing spasm came on. She walked about to Cross and began to exchange words. From the context and Cross's facial expressions, it appeared they were debating on how the seating arrangement were going to fall. Phoenix was trying to seat herself near him.

  The voice did not even give the walker-prime time to feel sorry for the boy.

  Ready yourself. Catch her as she walks around to her door!

  He did so, climbing on his hog. His hands deftly flipped switches and his feet readied on the kickstart. His timing had to be perfect.

  He slung his motorcycle to life and throttled it hard enough to make him come up a bit off his front wheel. He pushed the bike harder and faster, knowing the instant he had switched it on, all of their defense would be up. He must take advantage of their surprise, and now!

  He veered in a wide arc around the parking lot, bringing his bike up to bear down on his target. Even as he had gotten within ten feet of her, they were already drawing weapons. It was too late.

  The leather clad zombie scooped her up, even as she was turning around to see where all the loud noise was coming from. The Boogie Man had rolled up on his like a bad dream and snatched her up.

  “Phoenix!” screamed Parker.

  She rushed into her pockets, scrambling for the key to her own bike. Parker ran, jumped on her cycles’ back, slamming the key in the ignition. The engine came to life and she screamed out to the boys as she pulled away after the monster.

  “Get your guns and help me save my sister!”

  The boys were already in the process of diving into the truck. Jace dropped the parcel he was carrying and slammed the tailgate shut. Rhyce took the wheel and peeled out of the parking lot, making a b-line behind Parker.

  “That motherfucker has got some cast iron balls to be fucking with us!” he screamed.

  “Just stay on her tail Rhyce! We don't want to lose her.”

  Callen screwed up his face as he began checking and loading his weapon.

  “Rhyce. The first chance you get! You run that asshole down!”

  “Let me be the voice of reason, boys,” started Cross. “We run him down . . . after we save the girl.”

  The boys all nodded in agreement. The testosterone level of the cab built up to an all-time high. Adrenaline was their breakfast today. All four of them were seeing red, just knowing this chase was going to be quick and decisive. This was until Rhyce pulled the truck down to a sudden halt.

  Before them, several cars blockaded their progress any further. All of them had been moved at the end of the other, and in some places the vehicles had been doubled up. Rhyce jumped out of the truck and slammed the door with a curse.

  Cross looked even more dejected as he surveyed the predicament they had found themselves in. This was dirty and intentional. He walked toward the cars, knowing they
would still each have to be moved when something stopped him in his tracks. His foot scraped across something on the street. He moved his feet and heard the tell-tale jingle. Below him sat a pile of keys, presumably from each of the cars that were piled so neatly in front of them. He scooped them up and shook them angrily, stopping just short of throwing them against the cars.

  “I don't like these kinds of games,” he said.

  Her bike barely kept him in her line of sight as she barreled after them. She screamed even as the afflicted girl laid across the front of the seat. Every turn he took threatened to sling the poor girl off the bike, crushing and finishing her off. Parker was sick with guilt that she was just not going to make it in time. Her mind began playing tricks on her as she played out the various outcomes, trying to make sense of it all. She pictured the cretin getting tired of the game and just chucking her of the bike and letting her land where she may.

  “Phoenix!”

  She blinked that nightmare image aware, watching the girl still struggling weakly from here. She was far too tapped to break away, but it was far too dangerous on a motorcycle to do so anyway.

  She tailed them for over thirty minutes. She thought she had lost them for a bit when she stumbled upon an empty motorcycle parked in front of a Wal-Green's. She pulled to a stop, and eyed the store. The front door was wide open.

  Parker stumbled into the pharmacy. She brandished her 9mm intent to shoot anything that dared to move within the confines of her periphery. The air was still and stale as the dark crept in around her. She would not have been able to know she was even in a pharmacy if it were not for the sign outside.

  “Parker,” a meek voice whispered in the dark.

  She looked closer to the direction of the sound, and in the dark, her sister was there in coarse outline. Parker heard the tell-tale sound of a chain scraping the floor as she rushed to her sister. She lowered her weapon as not to point it at her.

  “Phoenix.” She leaned in and realized that her sister had indeed been chained. Handcuffs had been clamped down hard along her wrists and they were both attached to some very heavy chains. Phoenix was too weak at this point to even raise her hands off of the ground.

  “Where is that bastard? I am gonna…”

  Thoomp.

  She heard the dull crack of wood against skull before she even felt it. Her brain rushed on the inside of her head, and impulsively her eyes rolled back and what little light that was left in the room poured out and away like water over a cliff.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Parker stirred awake. Her eyes refused to obey the command to open, but a piercing light shoved into them just the same, like a heroin addict with needle to arm.

  The Zombie King forced her other eye open and repeated the process of shining a small mag light in it checking to see if her pupils would react.

  “Humph. Guess you passed my first experiment,” he chuckled. “Lucky you.”

  “Please. Leave her alone, you bastard,” Phoenix’s voice was all the more weaker in those late hours. She looked across from her to see her twin. Phoenix was too weak to even lift any of her appendages. Still, she squirmed painfully inside her restraints. The Zombie King ignored the weaker twin and focused his voice all toward Parker, but his attentive eyes were solely on Phoenix.

  “You will refer to me as your king, bitch. I am the Zombie King.”

  The ZK turned and shined a light back into the sickly girls face. What was once pale, and beautiful, had been replaced with accented dark veins roaming this way and that. Her pallor was splotchy, like the inside of a shiny seashell, only the rainbow effect was broken into scales that made her look even more terminal than she had ever looked before. Patient Zero recognized that look. He had once beheld that same visage in a mirror, just before the darkness overtook him. Just before his rebirth as the first of the undead.

  He knelt down before the chained young lady and shook his head. “Tsk. Tsk. It won’t be long now. Good thing. I am tired of hearing that nagging voice of yours.” He nodded over to Parker. “I don’t know how you can stand it.”

  “She’s my sister. I love her,” she whispered weakly. She shook her head trying to get the stars to stop popping in front of her eyes.

  “Well, take a close gander love. She won’t be your sister for very much longer, eh?”

  She looked up and as the evil one shined his little mag light back up into her twins face, the reality of it all came crashing upon her. Her twin now was nothing of the kind. All of the vibrant blond color had gone from her hair and replaced with black, like the darkness itself had stained it. Her face was emaciated and hollow, and her eyes. Oh, her beautiful eyes. They had begun to split and run out over her eyelids. From the way she was holding her head, and not reacting to the light striking her face, she realized her sister was now quite blind.

  “No.” Parker sobbed. “Phee…“

  She had refused to admit to herself that there was a chance that the sickness Phoenix had carried this whole time was worsened by this Havoc virus that had taken everyone else. She had kept telling herself, it was just her regular weak old self. No matter what she had ever wished against her sister, she had never wished her to go out like this. Never like this.

  Parker attempted to stand, but forces kept her on the ground. She knew she was not that weak. The fogged lifted a bit more and she realized that she too had been handcuffed and chained down with the heaviest chains this maniac could find. She looked back up defeated to her sister.

  Phoenix was a sufferer. She had suffered nearly her whole life. She did not deserve this. Even in this, their darkest hour. She did not want her sister to suffer. But what could she do? There was no method to put her out of her misery. This Zombie King had taken that away too. She still clung on to that small shred of hope that somehow, just somehow, she could escape from this nightmare and find a way to cure her sister. Bring her back from the edge of death.

  It was not to be.

  “Please…Leave her a-a-a-lone…” Phoenix’s voice trailed off and then her head dropped to her chest.

  “Phee!” Parker screamed.

  “It is done.” The Zombie King chuckled. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head. She’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Oh, God. Phee.” She was broken. Her other half was gone, and her soul lie torn in half by the jagged edge of death.

  A small slurpy gasp emanated from the dropped head of the body that was once her sister.

  “Well, see. That didn’t take long.” The Zombie King flashed his teeth in a wicked smile. “Welcome back, Phee.” He cackled loud and long at his own joke. This man was truly bent.

  Parker rushed at him hard, but the chains gave her no quarter, no mercy. This man premeditated this whole scenario. She understood that now. No one has chains like this just lying round a pharmacy. What was he planning?

  The undead form of Phoenix lifted her head and started to spill out her moan of hunger. The need was quick to burrow itself in her already dead mind. The addiction of the affliction. Her unseeing eyes rolled away in opposite directions, yet her nose sniffed the air and lined up with her sister on the opposite side of the room.

  With a burst of energy that her previous form was incapable of, dead Phoenix rose against her chains and jumped outward into the air dragging them must further than should she have been capable of.

  It was enough to make even the Zombie King flinch.

  “Ha! It seems the ole gal has life in her yet!”

  She hissed and jerked against the chains over and over again. This form was relentless. She opened her mouth wide and tasted the air like a snake, tasted the blood that still ran down the back of Parkers head from where the ZK had struck her.

  “Should I turn her loose? She seems mighty hungry.” The Zombie King teased.

  Her spirits broken, Parker did not even give the monster the satisfaction of a response. He rushed to her and grabbed her by the face. His hands pulled her head to the left and to the right, all t
he while he searched in her eyes for something that seemed just beyond his reach.

  “No. You aren’t ready yet. I still see hope in them eyes of yours.” He clicked his tongue in his mouth as he thought of his next move. The newly undead twin began to howl and screech as her hunger rose to a fever pitch.

  “Oh, I know.” He seemed to be satisfied with his train of thought, his a-ha moment. He walked over nonchalantly, humming the whole way, grabbed the screaming undead Phoenix’s head in a headlock. He looked dead in Parkers eyes, and swiftly ripped her head around ninety degrees. A sickening crack silenced the afflicted twin forever.

  Parker’s screams replaced her sisters. She was in the throes of a nightmare come to life. She thrashed hard against the chains, draining what little life and hope away into the steel. She sobs of mourning turned into uncontrollable spasms. Her sister was all she had. All of her hope had been murdered, right before her very eyes.

  The Zombie King stood there, thoughtful. He began to laugh out loud at the irony of it all. He had truly just murdered a true phoenix, a fire bird of legend. He surveyed the scene and gave a look of pure satisfaction. He reached down to his belt and produced a vial and inserted in into a syringe. He stabbed himself in the arm in one practiced motion, drawing out a vial’s worth of his one life force. Popping the vial out, he traded into another one, this one with a much bigger needle.

  He walked over to the still screaming Parker, and grabbed her by the mouth, forcing his finger down into her. He clamped down her tongue and forced her head back so that her chest pushed out toward him. She choked but was powerless in this position to fight him.

  He smiled.

  “This might pinch a little.”

  He raised his hand in a high arc and brought the syringe down into her chest like a hammer to a railroad tie. She caved as all of the air was push out of her nose, with it not having anywhere else to go. He slammed down on the syringe with is thumb, emptying his own life’s-blood into her heart. He ripped the needle away and stepped back to admire his handiwork.