The Zombie Theories (Book 3): Conversion Theory

by Rich Restucci

  My buddy must have noticed me favoring my left arm, and he pointed at it and raised an eyebrow. I nodded my head at Donna trying to get him to fuck off, and he got the message. He moved forward to sit with Ship in the cockpit and the twins flanked us. Richy pulled his knife and began cleaning his nails while he stared at our two captives. He glanced at me, then back at them.

  “They killed the dogs.”

  The earth was falling away from us two minutes later. I guess a pre-flight checklist was for pussies.

  Alameda

  “Wait, what?”

  I could barely hear her over the roar of the engines. It was cold in the back of the airplane too, and that was something I wasn’t used to recently.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t have an X-ray machine, but it sure feels broken. That fall was like, sixty feet, and there was a shit-ton of bus around me.”

  Donna’s face said she couldn’t believe I was such a dumbass. “And you’re telling me this now? Let me see.”

  She was on my right, so we unbuckled and switched seats. Shaking her head and sighing like I was the biggest moron on earth, she gently lifted my arm and ran her hands over it, pushing here and there. It fucking hurt and I let her know it.

  “Pussy. Shut up. I disagree with your diagnosis, Doctor Dumbass, it isn’t broken.”

  “But Travis said…”

  “Did Travis go to medical school and then work on an oil rig where roughnecks broke parts of themselves on a daily basis? No? Then I’ll pretend to be the medical professional.”

  Fully scolded, I kept my mouth shut as we moved through the sky. We had been in the air for about five hours. We’d be landing soon, and Ship already had the pilot up front with him and Remo.

  Donna had bandaged Holy Feet’s, whose name is Ellis, feet with stuff she took from the onboard medic station. He still couldn’t really walk, but I don’t care. Watching her take his boots off was fun.

  “Ten minutes.” I heard through the PA system.

  I realized I had no idea where we were landing, and my nuts shriveled. “Hang on,” I told Donna and hurried up front. “Remo, is this a fucking water landing?”

  “No.”

  “Where are we—?”

  He looked back at me. “Alameda. Nice long runways. Go sit down.” I looked at the unfamiliar pilot, who was flying this thing next to Ship, and I decided to flee.

  I was moving back to sit down, when a hand came down on my shoulder. It hadn’t hit me hard, but I was bruised all over, so it hurt. Remo was standing behind me. “Daniel told me about the guy you did with your hands back at the Double Hoof. He was impressed.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You realize you just made it sound like I jerked some dude off, right?”

  “Ever the smartass. Well done.”

  “Yeah, your masturbation training has paid off. Come sit next to us.”

  We planted our asses next to Donna and the kids. Alvarez sat across from us and shouted over, “There are eight M4s loaded and ready. Sixty extra mags as well, divvied up into the packs with rations for each for a few days. As soon as we land, everybody grab a weapon and a pack. Sidearms are in the pack holsters on the right side of each. Suppressors are already on, and there is one spare suppressor for each M9 in a holster also on the right side. Three extra mags each on the left.”

  We all nodded. I looked at the kids. “You guys arm up too.” I looked directly at Richy. “Everybody gets a gun.”

  Chloe looked at me and asked through a yawn, “Water landing?”

  “Nope. Full-on runway. Piece of cake.”

  “I like cake,” she replied, and we began to descend.

  The tires made that squeak sound that they always make when they hit the tarmac. We zipped down the runway feeling the plane slow, and soon, we were stopped.

  “We’re between two major cities,” Remo said as the engines wound down. “There’s no way every living and dead thing in the area didn’t just hear us land. We need to get out of here as quickly and quietly as possible.”

  Each person, now equipped with a pack and a rifle, nodded in understanding.

  Kat was looking at Holy Feet and the pilot. “What about them?”

  “Yeah, what about us?” Holy Feet demanded.

  “Spork, asshole. You’re lucky to be alive. Take this plane and fly off into the wild blue yonder.”

  “We don’t have enough fuel,” the pilot said, “or I would.”

  “All your problems. Good luck.”

  I heard the back ramp servos whine, turned, and almost bumped into Remo and Richy. Everybody else was at the back of the plane waiting to see what greeted us when the ramp fully opened. Remo looked me in the eyes drew his sidearm and spit out his toothpick. Richy pulled his knife. My blood went cold.

  The jarhead moved to make it past me, but I stood in his way, folding my arms, which again resulted in some pain. “No.”

  His features were deadpan as he asked, “No?”

  “No. Not only are you not going to kill these assholes, but we’re going to leave them a couple of guns, some ammo, and a couple of days rations. They were just following orders. You remember orders?”

  Like a striking Mamba, his hand was on my not-broken arm. He gave it a little squeeze, and I grimaced.

  Now he did raise an eyebrow. “Broken?”

  “Donna says no.”

  “K.” He turned on his heel and strode to the back of the plane, weapon still drawn.

  “They killed the dogs,” Richy reiterated.

  “I know, Rich, but this would be straight-up murder.” He sighed. It sounded like relief, then nodded and followed Remo to the ramp.

  I rounded on the two military douches. “There are two M9s in the locker under that seat.” I pointed, then looked at Holy Feet. “This is the second time I’ve saved your miserable life. A third will not occur. Button this heap up as soon as my boots are on the ground or I’ll drill both of you.”

  I moved down to join my friends, watching the guys behind me the whole time. They hadn’t moved.

  When the ramp was fully deployed, we headed for a set of structures to the southeast. The engines on the Hercules began to spin up right away. I guess the pilot didn’t like being on an island surrounded by gigantic cities. I didn’t either, and I wondered if I had just killed everyone by bringing them here. Then I remembered that this had been Remo’s plan as much as mine.

  So basically, if we all get eaten, it’s on the leatherneck.

  As we moved southeast, I could see there were some cars sporadically parked in several parking lots. I didn’t see any moving figures yet, but I knew they were there. They also knew we were here, so they were on the way. We needed to find some shelter and wait out the dead, or better yet, a boat and get to Alcatraz. I couldn’t see the prison island from my vantage, but I knew it was somewhere to the north in the bay. Hopefully, it wasn’t as dead as the rest of the world.

  We were between Oakland and San Francisco, and the only thing I could hear was the plane I had just gotten out of. It shot into the air at a very steep angle and was flying away to the south quickly.

  As soon as the Hercules was far enough away, an unnatural quiet came over the area.

  None of us realized that we had all stopped for a moment to watch the aircraft, and our safety, leave. The quiet was shattered as Richy took a step forward, crunching his sneaker on the sandy concrete.

  “What?” he asked as everyone stared at him. “Are we going to stay here or get moving?”

  “Look,” Kat said and pointed to a building across and to the left of the massive parking lot. A lone figure had noticed us and begun its arduous trek in our direction.

  Richy shrugged. “There’s only one.”

  “There’s never only one, Rich,” his sister warned.

  Two more rounded the corner of the building, then another, then another. Some began coming from to the right, and I could see movement directly in front of us as well.

  “That structure,” Alvarez told us and pointed
to an older brick building, “move!”

  The edifice looked as if it were constructed under the supervision of Pharaohs it was so old. Tons of brick-arched windows on the lower level and several doors meant many access points, but our time was limited as the dead had most assuredly found us now. They were coming from even more directions than before.

  We all hustled toward what we hoped was a quick refuge from the infected. Remo was still hobbling a bit, I could see it, but he would never say shit about it. Ship got to the door first, and was about to Hulk it open, when Kat put a hand on his arm. He looked at her quizzically, and she shook her head in that what a dumbass way that only she could pull off. She put her hand on the door handle, and everybody pointed their weapons at it. Kat turned the handle, pushed the door open and moved out of the way. It was bright inside.

  Alvarez shouldered his rifle and cupped his hands in front of his mouth, “Anybody home?”

  No noises from the dead or anyone living prompted us to go inside and pan around with our tac lights. They were completely unnecessary, the entire roof of the place having caved in some time ago. The sun streamed through the convertible structure, illuminating the small lobby we were in, and especially the stairwell that climbed up to a partially broken second floor. The entire left side of the second floor had collapsed into the first, leaving wreckage at an angle which was too steep to ascend.

  My nuts shriveled when I heard the scream of a Runner which was quite near. I wondered if I were the only guy who suffered from this, and if it would ever go away.

  “Up,” Remo ordered. “The stairs.”

  “Stairs?” Donna exclaimed. “Are you fucking kidding? Those are—” Ship fired his M9 into the face of a thing that had tried to get in after us. They had been closer than we thought.

  Remo made for the stairs, which didn’t look like they would hold Chloe, let alone Ship. He began to climb them immediately. He looked back at us. “Now!”

  The marine made it to the top of the steps without issue and we followed. Ship came last, and the whole apparatus creaked and groaned in protest until he reached the top. Remo and Alvarez began to push old desks to the edge of the landing for a barricade.

  “Roof access here!” Chloe called out, and I realized that the kids had split off from the group to explore our surroundings. We hadn’t cleared it up here yet and I made that known. I went with the kids and Kat to check shit out because my arm wasn’t up to snuff, and I wasn’t about to make it worse by moving furniture.

  I could hear the boys scraping desks and bookcases across the rickety floor behind us. There were six rooms, and one had a huge hole in the floor, but other than that, the search was uneventful. We came back to the stairwell to reconnoiter which was when the door we had just come through started getting a beat down. It lasted about eight seconds before the latch broke and the dead poured in.

  There were sixteen of them, and they saw us and started their noises. The more diligent of the group made their way to the steps fast, and Remo started shooting them with his sidearm. The M4s weren’t suppressed, so it was up to the pistols to save us. Anybody would could get off a shot fired into the crowd, and they were all down in just a moment.

  Richy put the back of his hand over his nose and looked away in disgust. The dead had brought their stink with them, and it was awful. More infected had found us and they filed into the lobby. I moved to the edge of the broken floor to get a better vantage for my aim. Everybody else was by the stairs because that’s where the attackers were focused. I fired three rounds more before I went empty. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, but more fish were spawning, and we were already through about fifty rounds of ammo.

  I ejected my magazine, stuck it in the mag holster, and slapped in another. I heard this weird sound, and suddenly, I was on my ass sliding because the friggin’ edge of the floor had given way. I hit the bottom floor and was on my feet fast, the dust thick in the air.

  “No!” I heard Donna scream, and fire suddenly focused on the dead that were coming for a free lunch.

  I swear the bastards were smiling in anticipation of a meal. They came slowly, but that’s a relative term when you have nowhere to run. My back was to the floor that had just collapsed, and the dead were on three sides of me.

  “Switch to the rifles!” Alvarez yelled. A couple of the things looked up, but only momentarily, as their vittles decided to make a run for it. I dashed to the right, heading for one of those pretty, brick-arched windows I mentioned before. The rifled fire started when I plowed through four of the things, not even getting a scratch. One got her nasty fingers on my pack, but they tore off. There was no glass left in the window, so I performed a fantastic dive through, landing on my hurt arm. I was trying to will my agony away for the briefest of moments, and didn’t notice the things advancing on me until one of their shoes scraped across the concrete.

  Thinking that this was really unfair, I dragged myself up before they could chow on me. I ran for it and they chased me. I hightailed it around a corner, slammed into one of them, and shoved him away. The pack was getting heavy, so I ditched it, figuring I could come back for it later.

  A small pack of them filled the street in front of me. I really didn’t want to run down the alley to my left, but I had no choice. Of course, it was a horrible decision because the things rounded the far corner, trapping me. I looked for a door and found one, but it wouldn’t budge. I kicked and kicked until my kicker was sore, but I was screwed.

  A calmness came over me. This was not the first time this had happened. The first six shots from the Beretta were quiet, but this suppressor burned-out quickly from these and all the other rounds I had just put through it. There was no time to change it out, so I slapped in my last mag and dropped as many as I could. I did pretty well. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have given Chloe my MP5 in lieu of an M4, but it was easier for her to carry and shoot. My M4 was on the floor of the building I had just run out of.

  I glanced behind me. Fifty feet. Thirty feet in front, but there were a good dozen or so of the pus bags, and they were packed in tight.

  I smiled. “Come on, then. Come on!”

  Bugs’ Buddy

  This is a zombie story and I’m the fucking hero. I can’t die, right?

  “HOWDY, PARTNERS!” a new voice bellowed, and every one of the zombies turned to see who would dare interrupt their midday meal. I actually had to stand on my tip toes to see over the taller infected.

  A blond kid, maybe twenty-five, stood in the alley behind the ones in front of me wearing sunglasses. He had a Louisville slugger, and he whacked the shit out of the closest infected to him. The thing dropped, and the kid shouted, “Nine twelve!” He destroyed another and yelled, “Thirteen! Nine thirteen! This is epic!”

  He waded in among them, and I swear to God they just turned away from him and started back at me. Now that shit was unfair.

  “Fourteen! Fifteen! Woo hoo!”

  I decided to join the fray and stabbed the one reaching for me with my SOG. I got two more before they got me, but there were only two left and the kid got both of them as they brought me down. Shockingly, the fat one landed on my arm. This was getting tiresome, but the pain kept me straight.

  The kid helped me get the nasty thing off of me and stretched his paw down to me. I took it with my good arm, and he hauled me up pointing behind me.

  “Oh shit!” I said really fast. The closest was a foot away and did that undead lunge. The kid now had a sawed-off shotgun in his hand and it went BOOM!

  He smiled a toothy smile, and I saw a jagged scar on his cheek. “Come on, man. You need to vacate the premises!”

  I would like to say we ran for the end of the alley, but when I turned to see where he was, he had the shotgun in a holster on his back and was pointing to the sky with one hand with the bat in the other.

  Fucker was calling his shot.

  I did a quick survey of the area and there were no infected on this side, so I yelled to him, “Come on!”
r />   He shouted over his shoulder, “Be right there!” Then he spit in his hand and smoked another ten or so of the things. They were walking right past him to get to me.

  What the fuck. I repeat: What the fuck.

  He pushed through the throng and ran to me. Out of breath, he said, “Takes… takes a toll on you swinging like that. Know what I mean?”

  I was fucking flabbergasted.

  “What the fuck—?”

  “Whoa there, Big Fella. Rated G, ok?”

  The ones he hadn’t killed were getting closer and I pointed at them.

  “Yeah, let’s go get your friends.” We trotted off back toward the building I had been in before.

  He noticed me cradling my arm and pointed at it. “Are you bitten? Because I promise it won’t go well for you later.”

  “No, I’m not. Hurt it earlier in the week.”

  “Ah, well, then you’ll be just dandy.”

  I could hear rifle fire, and saw Remo and Alvarez turn a corner first followed by the rest of my group. They noticed me with this guy and skidded to a stop.

  Remo pointed at him. “Who’s he?”

  “I didn’t catch his—”

  “Billy!” the kid interrupted. “Name’s Billy. You folks sure did make a ruckus with your GIGANTIC aero-plane, which I saw take off without you, I might add. Half of Oakland is crossing the bridge to say hi, and not the good half. I got a boat, and if you want to get off this island, and let me tell you, you do, then come with me.” His jaw dropped and he pointed at Ship. “Put an orange coat on this guy and you got yourself a Gossamer.”

  Several of my group looked at each other, and Ship looked insulted, but the kid shook his head. “Look, I don’t…” he noticed Richy and Chloe and rounded on me, disbelief all over his face. “You brought children to Alameda? BANQUET MUCH? Come on, my kids are watching the boat, I can’t leave them too long. There are worse things than the dead around too, and they won’t be far behind.”