Zombies On The Block | Book 8 | Better Off Dead

by Evans, Mike

  “Or you could just not die and come with me, dumbass.”

  “You know, maybe I should go first after all, my love.”

  Holly looked over her shoulder seeing what Steven was talking about. She didn’t necessarily want these guys to come with but at the same time, they’d been a good reason why the two of them were still alive. She pulled her newly acquired sword from its sheath and stopped running. The first of them sprinted directly into the group waiting for nothing, no fear, also no intelligence.

  Holly held up the sword clueless if this was going to work and if it was if it was a good idea. She wasn’t sure if anything about today could be considered a good idea she’d made today. Chances are that this might not be one of them either. The sword, thank God, worked for her just fine. When the purple freak made it to her, he impaled himself through the eye socket. Before his teeth could clamp down onto her face, the lights went out in its eyes or eye, the one not shish kabobbed.

  The only thing her small frame hadn’t considered was the important fact that death didn’t necessarily bring with it a lack of forward momentum. The corpse hit her so hard that the two of them flew backwards. Tony wanted to say something or help her up, but right now, if he did, it meant absolute death. Not just for himself, but for her and the others as well.

  Tony wasn't quite sure which one of the four to go after as they were all pretty goddamn close in distance. The second one leapt towards Holly; it answered his question quickly. Tony brought the axe around, swinging it like a baseball bat, hoping to all hell he did not miss. Missing would mean death for the woman he loved. The axe caught the top of the zombie’s skull, not connecting with enough brain to kill it, but tore through the rear of its head.

  When the purple zombie tried to get back up to its feet, Tony used what was around him knowing it would probably piss...no definitely piss off Holly in the long run. He knew when she stopped to think about it, she’d be able to forgive him because she wouldn’t be a zombie. Tony tried not to gag as he lifted on the zombie. He didn’t have time for finesse or options and needed his skull to be exactly where it was supposed to be. His handgrip wasn’t the back of his shirt...he had his fingers lodged under its skull and in between its brain. He pulled it forward pushing down hard until the second zombie had gotten skewered as well.

  Tony felt a sigh of relief when the dead did not try to get back up again. That relief was over just as quickly as it had begun though. Tony could feel spittle landing on the back of his neck as footsteps which were too close for comfort were heard. It seemed like only milliseconds after the wetness touched his neck that he felt a hand gripping tightly onto his sleeve.

  Tony was confident that this was going to be the end. This wouldn't be the first time today that he had been sure he was going to die. This one definitely felt like the top five of his encounters. The hand was pulling him to the side quickly but just as quickly as it had taken hold it had also gone limp. The ear-piercing crack of an unmistakable sound of a baseball bat pinging off of something with zero amount of resistance struck home.

  Tony was unsure if it was spittle or his own blood he was feeling, and he had just not had time to process the pain from the wound. He was trying to do something to deal with a million thoughts and emotions going through his head, but it wasn't easy. Not by any means.

  When the hand went limp and the zombie fell up against Tony's leg, an overwhelming sigh of relief made its way through his entire body at once.Regardless of how much of a prick Tony might have thought Chad was, he did have some redeeming qualities about himself. Saving Tony's life, which also probably saved Holly's life in the long run, was definitely one of them, only to be challenged by his baseball bat as second.

  Chapter 9

  Emily and Mickenzie looked at each other, judging the pool and praying to hell that it was deep enough that the dead that had already entered on accident, would not be able to reach them. She had absolutely no idea if that was going to be the case until it was too late. Mickenzie asked, “Are you sure about this, Emily?”

  Emily nodded yes saying, “Fuck no I'm not! This is probably the stupidest thing that I've ever done.”

  “Well, at least we are on the same page. I'm ready when you are.”

  “We might as well just go then ‘cuz I don't think I'm ever going to be ready,” Emily said.

  Mickenzie stuck out a hand for Emily and the two gripped firmly onto each other nodding a one, two, and three, before racing to the pool's edge. The two looked like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid or potentially more accurately Thelma & Louise. They made as long of a leap as they could, both extremely thankful for the warm water they landed in. The two of them felt a little better, given the fact of how far down they had sunk, neither of them had even come close to touching the bottom of the pool. Mickenzie prayed that Michael was going to make it to them in time. She wasn't sure exactly how she wanted to go when her time on Earth was over, but it sure as shit wasn't going to be like this.

  Both women craved fresh air but didn’t dare to come up until they absolutely needed to. It did not take long before the burning in Emily and then Mickenzie's lungs began to overwhelm the desire to stay beneath the water. Looking above them, seeming to surround the giant pool, the bloody dead were like ripples in the air. Emily realized there was no good scenario here that would end with them alive if they were not rescued.

  Emily was trying to decide how many times she would be able to repeat this process before her lungs were spent. She was not a smoker anymore as both of them had quit when Tony had been born. However, she also was not an athlete by any means. The Evans' workout typically consisted of walks around the block, or for Emily a workout class if she could talk one of her friends into joining and going. Anyone who can work out on a daily basis and have kids was either a genius, worked at home, or was a shitty parent. Living for tomorrow was the only thing a parent should do, she'd always thought, basically meaning you needed to survive and work as hard as you could to ensure your children had everything that they needed.

  It didn't take more than a few additional seconds before Mickenzie and Emily were both spent on their first stint under the water. Emily had her mouth being covered with both hands trying to trap the air inside of her body. Mickenzie was pointing up with a thumbs up motion, but Emily was shaking her head until she realized Mickenzie wasn't asking if she was good, she was letting her know she needed air and it needed to be now.

  Mickenzie secretly hoped that when they came up, that some of the dead who were not waiting at the bottom of the pool for them would be gone, and hopefully had moved on. Unfortunately, this would be hard to gauge until they made it to the top of the pool. One additional fact they had not calculated on was the immense amount of chlorine which had been used to treat the pool. Mickenzie was giving serious consideration to the fact that they were sharing the same water with these highly infected zombies.

  When they made it to the top, they could not help but inhale as deeply as they possibly could. The air was bittersweet. Bitter in the burn that it left in their lungs having to suck in thick chlorine fumigated air. Sweet in the fact that it was quite frankly their lifeblood. The only way that they would be able to continue on until an easier meal came across the dead's path, or some miracle potentially fueled by gunpowder presented itself. To be quite honest, Mickenzie would be just fine with either of them. Emily gasped for air and asked, “Are you okay, Mickenzie? What the fuck do we do?”

  Mickenzie, trying to remain calm, said, “I honestly don't know. But if I were you, I would try not kicking down if it's something you can avoid.”

  Emily was doing her best just to stay above water and said, “Why?”

  Mickenzie said, “Because what happens when you pile shit, Emily?”

  “Uh, it becomes a bigger pile of shit?”

  “Exactly, now look at all these dead still trying to get to us. They just keep falling in, eventually some of them are going to fall and they're going to get taller and the space betwee
n us and them is going to get a hell of a lot smaller as well.”

  Emily immediately got the point, not entirely sure if she could keep her legs up and tread water with only her arms. When a hand brushed her toe, she decided that would be an opportune time to become the back-floating champion of the zombie apocalypse. Emily and Mickenzie floated for a few minutes longer before the horrible situation began to get worse. With no shortage of the dead, those walking into the pool thinking they would walk straight across water like Peter, sunk down waiting for something to eat. A less attractive view was seeing those in the shallow end with hands up in the air thinking they could reach Emily and Mickenzie as they slowly descended to the bottom of the pool, joining their dead brethren. Turning the once baby blue painted pool into, excuse for the pun, a deadpool.

  Emily stared at the ceiling, not daring to look beneath her, until fingertips began brushing her ass.

  Mickenzie screamed, “Open your eyes or pay attention at the very least, please. The dead are getting too thick for comfort. We need to make sure we stay as close to the deep end as we can so long as those freaks can't jump up and get us.”

  “The pool is only so big,” Emily replied.

  “I'm well aware this is not an Olympic style pool. However, we don't have a damn choice in the matter. That's it, we do the best that we can for as long as we can and when this shit hits the fan past what we can handle, I guess we're just in God's hands at that point.”

  Emily had nothing against the great almighty, but she definitely was interested in a little bit more security than that. She knew on a day like this, the man upstairs was going to have plenty on his plate, and she didn't want to be selfish enough to think that she was that important just because she was a mother. Emily tried to move nice and slow, not wanting to go too quickly and be in the jump zone. She figured these things were probably already doing the best that they could to jump as far as they could, but if a warm meal was only an inch further away, then the stupid son of a bitches would probably figure out a way to make it to her. That was something she wanted to avoid at all costs, if possible.

  Emily floated, hoping she was able to keep the distance that she needed to, so she did not get taken under and become one of them. She could feel fingertips just barely braising the rear of her back and buttocks, and as little as she wanted to, she tried to make peace with God. She knew it wasn't anyone's fault, but she'd be damned if she was going to be happy about something like this happening.

  Emily looked over to Mickenzie, seeing that she was watching and could see the look of pain in her eyes that there was nothing which she could do to try and save her friend. Emily honestly couldn't ask for anything else from Mickenzie, given the fact she'd already saved her more than once today, but of course Emily had done the same and gone above and beyond when she didn't know if her friend was going to become one of those monsters. No one would have given two thoughts as to why she didn’t take Mickenzie back from Des Moines with her.

  Emily yelled, “When they take me under, make a run for it! Maybe you can get out while they are focusing on me.”

  “That sounds like a really shitty option. Why don't we just have you live? Then I don't have to try and do this on my own, and I don't have to tell all your kids that I let their mom die so I could escape.”

  “There's not really anything I can do, Mickenzie, to get away from it so you might as well make some good out of a really shitty situation.”

  Chapter 10

  Trevor was typing a message to Molly, telling her he had at least found a temporary safe ride. He explained how he had Jake and Michael with him, and they seemed to know what they were doing with the firearms and how they had saved his ass. Trevor mentioned how they were picking up Emily and Mickenzie, God willing, and would be on their way just as quickly as possible. He had gotten an immediate response, letting them know they would be at Noah and Abigail's house, not knowing that they would never be coming back but no one was going to care given the fact that they were the only occupants at the home.

  Trevor stuffed his phone down in his pocket checking that his pistol had one locked and loaded and double then triple checked that the safety which Michael had said was non-existent truly was that, as well that the magazines he had were all loaded for the caliber he was holding. He did not want to be in a situation where the round peg didn't fit into the round hole, or magazine in this case.

  Michael still couldn't believe this was what reality was now, and didn't seem to be losing his shit, which was good. His anxiety was holding strong and that was okay with him at the moment. So long as he didn't overthink the situation at hand, he thought that he would be able to handle some pressure. He was a dad, and that came with the game.

  He checked his hands, making sure they weren't trembling, and he wouldn't be wasting bullets by not being able to keep himself still. He patted Jake on the shoulder and said, “You all set? Do you have the extra magazines and the pistol and…”

  Jake would never lie and say he wasn't nervous, but he did know it was absolutely imperative that they get their asses moving and did so now. He had seen firsthand how somewhere that seemed to be safe had gone to absolute horseshit in only a very short time. Jake said, “I don't think we have the option of waiting until we're good to do this. I've got the magazines, but we don't have my mom and we don't have Mickenzie, so maybe we should get our asses moving!”

  The three opened up the truck doors simultaneously, all exiting at once. They didn’t leave anything in the cab, because if they weren’t able to come back to it, unused bullets would be useless to them. They all wanted to do whatever was going to make the most sense. As soon as they exited and made it up the steps, they realized they were going into a world of shit with no guarantees they would see an end to a seemingly never-ending shit of a day.

  Trevor and Michael both seemed like they needed to try to protect Jake. They got in front of the boy, but he’d have none of it. He wasn’t going to say he wasn’t scared because that was ignorant, but he did think that there was no reason he should be protected and slow them down. If the three of them were able to shoot, then that would be three times as many of these bastards taking a forever rest if he helped, which of course was the entire point in him coming with.

  Jake stepped to the side of Trevor making sure that he knew he was there. He didn’t want to take a shot to the head if Trevor, or Michael for that matter, thought that he was one of the dead. There would be nothing good that would come from that. He was very content with the number of holes on his body which God had granted him.

  Sometimes he wished he didn’t have one of the holes, or at least after burrito night he definitely disliked one of them. Jake unleashed a slew of shots, Trevor was going to say something about slowing down, but when he watched as the kid picked them off one after another, he shut his mouth. If the young kid was going to be this useful, more useful than he, then he was not going to say anything about him needing to hide back behind the adults and taking protection that any one in their right mind probably would happily take.

  Jake and Michael picked them off as quickly as they could. Trevor with his pistol had a bit less to work with, you could shoot fast and miss big, or aim small and hit big. There weren’t a whole lot of options unless you were some military guy who shot thousands of rounds a year, which he absolutely did not. He immediately questioned if there was going to be enough bullets between the three of them. He was in charge of planning at John Deere and making estimations; this was definitely one of those things he thought that he might just be wrong about. He couldn’t see a point though being this far into it by making some sort of statement how they were going to die. Best to keep morale up, he thought.

  Jake felt his manhood rise up in the back of his throat when his first magazine went empty and the ejector opened and stayed that way with a small trail of smoke coming from the ejector. Clicking empty when a horde of zombies are making their way to you is a horrific experience he thought. When Michael didn’t he
ar three guns going off, he looked over to Jake who he could tell was getting damn frustrated.

  It wasn’t something he’d blame the kid for, he was doing a tremendous job for someone his age.for any age, he thought. Jake never took his eyes off of the gun and was determined to figure it out. Michael stopped shooting for a minute, taking a step back and letting Trevor go forward in front of him. Trevor watched and scooted over to make room for him to go to the boy’s aide.

  When Jake saw Michael giving him his full and undivided attention, he thought this was definitely one of the top five embarrassing and most happy times he’d had in his life. Michael pointed to the button which Jake was missing as he tried to figure out the semi-automatic release. This was far fancier than anything his dad or grandpa had. Their guns were just about as user-friendly as guns came. He was beginning to wonder if this was possibly why his family didn't have anything that looked like it was straight out of a video game.

  He appreciated Michael even more so because he didn’t do it for him, he simply pointed and made Jake do it for himself. Jake watched at what he was pointing towards and hit the button, letting the magazine fall to the ground, not worried now about picking it up as he could tell the dead were getting closer by the second. The comfortable lead they’d had when they began was shrinking with every pull of the trigger and bounce of the spent brass. Once Jake figured out what he’d done, he nodded, put in a new mag, and released the charging handle, letting a bullet find its new home. He felt a huge sigh of relief from this as well. As soon as he saw Jake had his shit together, he resumed giving the dead his full and undivided attention.