by Bible, Jake
“That’ll stop the bleeding,” she says. “I’ll help you up.”
“Up? Why?” I ask even as she’s yanking me to my feet. Scrote pain is now third on the list. Standing up after having your side cauterized is second on the list. Not liking this list. Not at all. “Why can’t I just rest and we wait for Big Daddy to swoop down and save us? It’s a little smoky, sure, but you get used to it.”
“Zs,” she says, pointing down the hill at the herd coming at us.
“Oh, right, we’re still in that world,” I say. “Fuck.”
“Can he move then?” Stuart asks, his face covered in soot and blood. “Can you move? We have to move.”
“I’m seeing that,” I say. “But where? I don’t think I can get down and back up the ravine.”
“You’ll have to try,” Stuart says. “Come on. Somebody help here.”
Stuart’s untied our neighbors and several hurry forward to help me through my house and out the back. Good thing we didn’t blow it up, eh? That’s why they pay me the big bucks.
Stuart doesn’t bother swiveling the fence boards and just kicks right through. I can see the stain has pretty much taken over the bandages, yet the guy is still going. Remind me to thank the Marines.
“Hey, Stuart, you’re hurt,” I say as I’m helped/carried through the fence. “Elsbeth has this really great treatment she knows. We should take a break and let her fix you up.”
“Nice try,” Stuart says. “Ah, shit.”
We all stand at the top of the ravine and you can just feel the despair wash over the group.
“That’s a lot of Zs,” someone says then I realize it’s me as everyone glares. “What? It is.”
The ravine is filled with Zs and more are tumbling down to the bottom from the other side. All the noise must have drawn them to us. I’ll bet every Z just hanging out down by the river is now trying to clamber up the rocks and boulders to get at us.
Even if we fight our hearts out we can’t take them all. Not even with Elsbeth’s help.
“Other way?” I say. “Cross the street and go down that ravine?”
“No way through the wire,” Stuart says. “This is your path. Only way out.”
The groans and moans of the Z herd echo back to us from the street. Doesn’t look like we can go the other way even if we try.
“I’ll go out fighting,” Elsbeth says. “Pa always said never give up. Fight until you can’t fight.”
“Sorry,” Stuart says, looking at Elsbeth. “For killing your pa. Don’t get me wrong, I’d do it again to save my friends, but I am sorry he had to die.”
Elsbeth watches him; we all watch Elsbeth. She is still holding one of her blades, after all. Then she lets that go and hugs Stuart, her face buried in his shoulder. That’s a stunner.
The groans are louder and I look over my shoulder and see a couple dozen Zs shuffling towards us. A few of them catch fire as they get too close to Tran’s burning house. Everyone else turns and watches them come. Elsbeth lets go of Stuart and picks up her blade.
“I don’t know where my other one is,” she says, wiping her eyes. “Poop.”
“You can say that again,” I say.
“Poop.”
“So, down there and fight, or make this a backyard brawl?” Stuart asks.
“Backyard brawl,” I say, “I’m too tired to climb down.”
He nods. “Backyard brawl it is. Everyone grab something to fight with. A board, a rock, a small stick you can jab in an eye, whatever. Just grab it and keep fighting until you can’t.”
“Keep fighting until you can’t,” Elsbeth repeats.
So we grab up what we can and walk through the fence, ready for our last stand in Whispering Pines.
There’s no signal given, no war cry, no drums beating as we march to our deaths. It’s really more like a bunch of people on Black Friday running to whatever sale merchandise they can get. Kinda makes me nostalgic for the past.
I come at the first Z, one hand clutching a knife Stuart tosses me, while the other hand is pressed up against my side. I’m probably hurting myself more by pressing so hard, but the pain gives me drive, it gives me focus. I jam the blade of the knife right into the eye of the Z and it falls. Taking the knife with it, of course.
“Shit,” I say.
I stumble around, looking for another weapon, but I don’t have time as a Z reaches for me. Its hands are nothing but bone and sinew and I grab them, snapping its fingers right off. The thing pauses for a brief second and I do have to wonder what’s going through its rotten mind. But I don’t wonder long as I sweep its legs out from under it and go all romper stomper on it, smashing its head into pulp.
Hands grab me from behind and I jam my elbow up and back, smashing it into a Zs chin, snapping its jaw right off. Did you know the elbow is the hardest part of the human body? It’s a good thing to know.
I turn and kick out, sending the jawless Z falling into a group of six more that are hungering for my tasty (yet terrified) flesh. All around me there are screams of rage and pain; screams of violence and despair. Weaponless, I lower my shoulder and charge, plowing right into the Zs. Bet they didn’t see that coming!
Of course, being Zs, they are less than stable and we all go down in a pile of flailing limbs. I push up, my hands going through the Z’s chest I’m on like fucking cream cheese. Shaking the goo from my hands, I make two fists and start going to town. I rain down some serious beatings on these mother fuckers!
Every wound that’s been inflicted on me, every single death I’ve witnessed, all the bullshit of this fucking world, not to mention the fucking bullshit of the GOD DAMN Whispering Pines HOA, all of that fuels my wrath. I land blow after blow, my knuckles cracking open, my living, red blood mixing with the undead, black blood of the Zs. I don’t stop until I’m straddling nothing but pulp then I get to my feet, raise my hands, and scream into the night!
“I FUCKING WIN!”
Then I’m tackled around the waist by two Zs and I go down hard.
Fuck.
They claw at me, fighting each other for first taste. Oh, but they won’t be getting it, not this night, no fucking way. I reach up and grab one of the Zs by its head and twist until its head cracks right off its spine. I slam the Z head into the face of the other Z, over and over, again and again, until all I see is a pulpy crater of putrid flesh. I bring my knee up and flip the thing over my head, rolling to my side and shoving up off the ground.
Faceless, but not dead, the Z staggers to its feet, its arms reaching for me. It can’t see since its eyeballs are just jelly, but damn if it doesn’t hone right in. Fuck it, let it come. As it gets closer I grab its forearms and yank down, ripping its arms right off. Back and forth I slam the thing’s own arms against its skull until it cracks open like a rancid melon.
Pop!
Z arms in hand, I close on the next ones. I use them like clubs, bludgeoning the Zs to their final deaths until the arms are shattered and useless. Tossing the shards of bone and flesh away, I try to find new weapons. There are plenty, but they are clutched in the lifeless hands of my fallen neighbors. I finally see what is going on: we are losing.
“Fuck,” I say. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
Several Zs, and by several I mean like ten or so, turn about and look at me. I shake my head, ready for them, ready to take my turn at the Z buffet. What was I thinking? That we’d really survive the night? Dealing with Vance and his band of shitheads was hard enough. Pile on one serious herd of Zs? Yeah, good luck with that.
Have I said fuck lately? Yes? Well, let me say it again.
Fuck!
They come at me and I look around, but there is nowhere to go. I have the ravine at my back (Z filled, thank you), houses on fire to my right and left, choking any escape route with flames and smoke, and a fuck ton of Zs just finishing up the appetizer course and ready for the main dish. Which is me.
I can see Elsbeth hacking and slashing, holding her own, but she’s surrounded, no way she’ll make it t
o me to save my butt this time. Stuart is bellowing like a Viking berserker, his hands chest deep in a Z as he rips the thing apart bit by bit. So he’s occupied. My neighbors are succeeding and failing at varying degrees ranging from “DIE, MOTHER FUCKERS, DIE!” to “OH, GOD! WHY IS IT EATING MY ASS FIRST?” Overall, not a favorable outlook.
But no one likes a tragedy, especially me. And the surest way to turn tragedy into triumph?
“EVERYONE HIT THE FUCKING DECK!” Leeds screams as he, Reaper, John, and Platt kick through the boards of my fence, their M-4s up and ready. “DOWN NOW, YOU STUPID FUCKS!”
Don’t have to tell me twice. I dive for the dirt as burst after burst of rifle fire explodes over me. A couple people cry out, not having listened (you should always listen to the guys with the guns), and I hope there’s no friendly fatalities. I turn my head and watch as Z head after Z head is pierced by expertly placed bullets. I don’t see a single body shot as Leeds and his team clear the yard.
“Get up, Long Pork,” John says as he grabs my elbow and yanks me to my feet. “There’s more coming, we gotta go.”
He’s right, I can hear the Zs and see their shadows through the flames and smoke.
“People! If you want to live you will follow us now!” Leeds shouts.
Those not seriously wounded help those that are and we stagger our way to the ravine, following Leeds and his men. It takes them all of five seconds to put the Zs in the ravine down. As soon as the last one falls, the back of its head splattering against the rocks, we all scamper down the rocks and up the other side. Well, I don’t really “scamper” as much as cry like a baby with each agonizing step.
John and Platt take lead and clear us a path, making sure every single shot counts, as we come up out of the ravine and into the path of yet another horde of Zs. They are really coming out of the woodwork tonight. Z after Z drop as the team mows them down. Leeds and Reaper step up when John and Platt have to reload, keeping a constant stream of lead pouring into Z heads. The rest of us play back up, smashing and bashing skulls as hidden Zs come at us from the sides.
Neighbors fall, their wounds too much for them, but we get them up, holding them by the waists, by the arms, slinging them over our shoulders. Okay, by we I mean Stuart and Elsbeth and a few others that aren’t all fucked to shit like me. I kinda just stumble in a daze, yelling, “There’s one!” and “Over there! Look out!” I do my part.
Straight down the middle of Sixth Avenue we go, a swath of undead corpses left in our wake, until we hit Hwy 251. We all look around. Not a Z in sight. Oh, wait, there’s one. John takes it down. Now there’s not a one in sight.
“I’d like to rest now, please,” I say, my head spinning. A black fuzz has encroached on my vision, constricting my sight. The world around me is inside a dark tunnel and I can hear people talking to me. Hell, I can see their mouths move, but fuck if I know what they are saying.
“I’m just gonna sit down,” I say to the faces in front of me. “Just take a load off. I’m tired.”
Then the tunnel closes and the darkness takes me.
Chapter Eleven
The black becomes grey becomes light that filters between my eyelids. I squint and blink, bringing the world into focus as soft fingers stroke my cheek.
“I hope this isn’t Heaven,” I say, my throat scratchy and raw, “because that means you died too.”
“Maybe it’s Hell and I’m here to kick your ass forever for going off on some stupid suicide mission?” Stella says as her face comes into focus. “Did you think of that?”
“Anywhere you are, no matter the amount of nagging, is Heaven to me,” I smile. Ow, smiling hurts.
“Good answer,” she says and leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips.
Again with the ow.
“Can I sit up?” I ask, honestly not knowing the answer.
“No,” Stella says. “Dr. McCormick says you need to be still for a few more days.”
“A few more?” I ask. “How long have I been out?”
“Six days,” Stella says. “But I don’t know if ‘out’ is the right word for it. You were raving for a couple days as you burned off a fever. Then there was the day you kept insisting you were fine and fell out of bed at least, oh, I don’t know how many times.”
“Eight,” Greta says from a chair in the corner of the room. “Hey, Daddy.”
“Hey, Baby Girl,” I smile. More ow. “I’d give you a hug, but I don’t think my arms work.”
“Mr. Stillwater finally sedated you so you could sleep and stop being stupid,” Stella says.
“Mr. Stillwater? Who’s that?” I ask.
“Reaper,” Charlie says from the doorway. A pretty girl is standing right behind him. I know her. What’s her name? Oh, Jennifer, right.
“Those guys are so cool,” Charlie says. “John showed me how to take out a Z from two hundred yards!”
“He showed him,” Greta laughs, “but he didn’t hit anything.”
“I was close,” Charlie frowns. “With some more practice, I’ll be all snipery snipe like. Plink, plink, plink. Down go the Zs, from a very safe distance.”
“And what have you been up to, my love?” I ask Stella.
Her face clouds over and she looks out the window at the gorgeous day. I follow her gaze and see we are at the Farm. I’d know that view anywhere. She turns back to me and purses her lips.
“I’ve been sitting in on the tribunals,” Stella says. “Which have turned out to be completely worthless.”
“Tribunals?”
“For Brenda Kelly and her cronies,” she answers. “We’ve been deciding if they deserve to be punished for colluding with Vance.”
“And I hope the answer was yes,” I say, “because she was in league with him for sure.”
“Unfortunately, there’s no way to prove that,” Stella says. “Vance is dead. His people are either dead or scattered to the wind. There is no actual evidence of her collusion.”
“What about Stuart? He said he knows she had this all planned with Vance. That they were going to turn Whispering Pines into a prison camp.”
“Yes, he was very clear on that when he spoke,” Stella says, her eyes locking with mine. “But it’s he said, she said. Literally. No one could provide hard evidence.”
“Okay, so there’s no evidence that she colluded,” I say. “I hope, at the very least, she’s being tossed out on her ass. She deserves a bullet to the head, but a walk out there with the Zs is fine by me.”
Stella doesn’t say anything.
“Okay, what is happening to her?”
“You won’t like this,” Stella says.
“Oh, I’m sure, but tell me anyway.”
“She was re-elected as HOA Board Chair.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is closing up. I look about and see a glass of water, I reach for it, but Stella gets there first and puts the glass to my lips. The water is sweet, but not sweet enough to wash the sour, bitter taste from my mouth.
“I’ll kill her myself then,” I say when I can speak again. “I won’t even make it clean. I’ll gut her and toss her outside the fences. Let the Zs have their way.”
“Jace,” Stella says, her eyes going to the kids. “The HOA voted. Stuart is raging pissed, but even he understands that. We are nothing if we just toss the rules and laws to the side. She was tried, she was found not guilty, and the HOA voted. It’s done.”
“I didn’t vote,” I say.
“I did,” Stella says. “For us. I voted against, and it was close, but people are scared and don’t know what the future holds.”
“Better an evil you know than an evil you don’t, is that it?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Fuck me,” I whisper. I rub my forehead and close my eyes. “This is fucking great.”
I can feel sleep pulling at me again and I yawn. Then my eyes open and it’s suddenly night. A small candle is lit on the bedside table and I can see someone sitting in the shadows in the corner.
“Hey,” I say, just to be polite.
“Hey,” Stuart replies. “It was my turn to watch you.”
“I need watching?”
“Yeah, you do,” Stuart laughs. “You are a shitty patient. Did you used to sleepwalk before then?”
“Before then what?”
“Before the Great Burning of Whispering Pines.”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then you’ll have to watch yourself from now on,” Stuart says. “Because your subconscious has taken up a new hobby and it involves random wanderings. Not the best thing in a world overrun by Zs.”
“Yeah, I can see the downside,” I say. “How are you feeling?”
“Like an old man that’s had the hell beaten out of him,” Stuart says. “But I’ll survive. It’s what I do.”
“Thanks for letting me in the club,” I say. “Surviving is right up there on the list of good shit.”
“Amen,” Stuart says. “You want me to get Stella then? It’s like 2am, but she told me to fetch her if you wake up.”
“No, no, let her sleep,” I say, trying to push up on my elbows. Ow, ow, ow. Everywhere on my body. Ow.
“Don’t bother,” Stuart says. “Your nocturnal travels have pretty much put your recovery back a few days. Stay still. That’s Dr. McCormick’s orders. Reaper’s too. I’d listen to him more, he can kill you with his pinky.”
“Don’t fear the Reaper,” I chuckle.
“She told you about Brenda then?”
“Unfortunately.”
“What are we going to do about that?”
“What can we do?”
Stuart shrugs. “That’s the 64 million dollar question. I don’t think anything can be done. We just wait and watch. She’ll show her true colors again. She only won the Board Chair again because there are more mindless sheep than thinkers in our bunch.”
“Why was there even a vote?” I ask. “Whispering Pines is gone. Burned to the ground.”
“The houses, yes, but the neighborhood is still there. Everyone plans to rebuild. It’ll be different, but still home. Oh, and the Church of Jesus of the Light is still standing. Preacher Carrey refuses to leave. He’s still there, waiting to yell at us for our sins when we get back. So, it’ll feel just like home when we rebuild.”