Deadlocked 3

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Deadlocked 3 Page 11

by A. R. Wise


  I looked inside at the dummy on the floor of the ice cream shop that I'd knocked over on my earlier visit. "No problem. I've got the perfect thing."

  "So what the fuck am I supposed to do then?" asked Levon. "Just carry this turd on my back like nigger Yoda? How am I supposed to kill any zombies?"

  "You already proved you can't swing a sword worth shit," said Mark. "What are you going to do? Punch their heads off?"

  "I thought you said this plan sucked," said Levon.

  "It does, but it's better than just rolling down there and getting swarmed by the fucking things."

  "I'll go in and get the tape and that dummy. You guys try and think of a song to play on the chair. We need something that's loud, but it has to start quiet. We don't want the zombies to pay much attention to the chair until it's already down the hill a little."

  "Can it be some Blackalicious or Spearhead or something like that?" asked Levon. "I don't want to be listening to some heavy metal shit that you guys like. Not when I'm muling a cripple on by back."

  "Fuck that," said Mark. "You're outvoted, son. If we're slaughtering zombies to a soundtrack, you'd better believe it's going to be the baddest ass metal I can come up with." He happily scrolled through his mp3 player in search of something appropriate.

  I climbed into the ice cream shop and headed for the back room to get the tape. Then I dragged the ridiculously heavy mannequin to the door. I unlocked the gate and pulled the dummy down the steps.

  Levon chuckled at the sight of the ice cream store's mascot. "Why the hell is that thing in an ice cream place?"

  "They used to put it in the window as a display. Get Mark out of the seat and I'll put this heavy fucker in there."

  Mark let his brother hoist him out of the chair and then set him on the pavement as I lugged the mannequin over. We propped it in the chair and Levon took off his baseball cap and set it sideways on the dummy's head. Then we propped up the thing's arms and positioned the surprisingly articulate hands on either side to send the message we wanted: Middle fingers pointed straight at the sky.

  "Did you pick out a song?" I asked Mark. He smiled and handed me the iPod. I looked at the selection and grinned back at him.

  "What shitty song did you pick?" asked Levon as he leaned over to see the screen.

  "Gwar, The Horror of Yig," said Mark with a boyish glee in his eyes. "It starts with a quote from Apocalypse Now and then has some bag pipe music for a few seconds before the shit gets tight. It's perfect, man. Seriously fucking perfect."

  "Bagpipe music?" asked Levon with a dismissive grunt.

  "Have they said anything more on the earpiece?" I asked.

  Levon shook his head. "Nope. Been quiet since they said they were pulling up to the dock." He sat at the bottom of the steps while his brother positioned himself behind.

  "Mine's just static." I pulled the earpiece out and put it in my pocket. Then I put the iPod in the dock of the armrest and checked on the dummy's placement one last time. "Are we ready for this? Feeling good?"

  "I'm being ridden like a donkey and listening to Gwar, how the fuck do you think I feel?"

  "We're ready," said Mark. "Hey, Billy. I bet I can kill more of them than you. A point a kill."

  "You're on."

  I took several long strips of tape and put them on one side of the joystick at the end of the armrest. Then I wheeled the chair out into the center of the intersection and pointed it north.

  "Hey Mom and Dad," I whispered and glanced up at the darkening sky. "If you're there, I could use a serious bit of help on this one. Otherwise we're going to get our reunion a little quicker than I'd like."

  With that, I put our plan in motion. I hit play on the iPod. Then I pulled the tape across the joystick. I rushed to release the brakes before the spinning wheels started to screech on the pavement.

  Our mannequin started his journey as a crescendo of bagpipe music roared from the speakers beside him. The song started low, with Marlon Brando's quote from Apocalypse Now rising above the squealing bagpipes.

  The chair, and our offensive mascot, rolled past the startled zombies and drew their attention. The plan was working perfectly, so far.

  Mark held onto his brother's neck with his left arm while wielding the katana with his right. I had Eddie Mathew's Louisville Slugger ready to smash some heads as we waited for the zombies to turn away and chase the chair.

  The drums started first, with a pounding rhythm that jostled the custom wheelchair as the subwoofer shook beneath. The twins were right, the system they'd installed had some kick to it! There wasn't a single zombie ahead of us that didn't focus solely on the chair as it rocketed between the two groups lining either side of the street.

  Levon didn't waste any time as he ran down the hill with his brother perched on his back. They were on the left side of the street and I took the right.

  Mark got the first point as he sliced through a short, fat zombie that waddled in front of them, but I had plenty of opportunities to score points of my own. My first came from a creature that had broken its leg. The monster couldn't keep up with the rest of the charging horde and lagged behind. It never saw my bat coming before the entire back of its head exploded in fine, black mist. Chunks of brain matter rained down in front of me, dotting my face and clothes as I ran.

  There was no time to clean my face before I had to kill again. I scored my second point on a creature that tripped during its pursuit of the chair. I stepped on the zombie's back and then swung down twice to mash its head to pulp. There was no way the brothers could kill them quicker than I was!

  I glanced over at them and Mark was looking at me. He had a grin on his face as he mouthed the word, "Four."

  Four points? I couldn’t fathom how they managed to get four kills already, but sure enough, there was a trail of corpses behind them. Levon's time as a track star paid off as he surged on, his brother clinging to his back and swinging his katana around like a whirling dervish after a meth binge.

  I lagged behind the twins and the next zombie in my path caught sight of them running down the left side of the road. It focused on them and I had to rush to catch up before it had the chance to attack them. I shouldn’t have been worried. As soon as Mark caught sight of the creature, he tugged to the right on Levon's shirt, signaling him to turn. Then Mark sliced his sword through the top of their pursuer's head and the creature stumbled to its knees. A corner of its skull slid off.

  Mark and Levon were close enough to me that I could talk to them without fear of alerting any of the nearby zombies. "Slow down a little." I panted at them as I spoke.

  "I thought you were an athlete," said Levon.

  "It's been a long day. Give me a break."

  I went back to my side of the street as Levon slowed his pace to give me a bit of respite. Another zombie fell to my bat as I neared the pharmacy that I'd raided in the morning. I was shocked to see the condition the store was in. The windows had been broken and there were bodies lying in the street outside. A massacre had occurred here, almost as if a car had plowed through a horde of zombies and left body parts strewn around.

  Mark's wheelchair hit one of the bodies in the street. It toppled forward and our mannequin flew out of the seat and skid across the pavement. The supplies we'd stored beneath the chair fell to the ground and the iPod was thrown from its dock.

  There was a terrifying silence as the music stopped.

  Some of the horde piled onto the fallen chair, but others turned their attention to us. Mark added a lot of weight for Levon, and their forward momentum made it nearly impossible for him to stop. I watched as the twins tried to avoid crashing into the horde, but it was hopeless.

  "Aw shit," said Levon as he disappeared into the mass of zombies.

  "No!" I screamed out as I approached the mound of writhing flesh that surrounded the twins. "Get off them!"

  Two of the creatures turned their attention to me and I dashed forward, swinging back and forth in an attempt to dispatch them as quickly as
possible. Bones crackled as the force of my swing demolished their bodies and sent them flying out of the way. The twins were still hidden from me within the writhing mass though.

  Levon shouted out and I saw one of the zombies rise into the air over the others. He threw it back, toward me, and it fell to the pavement. Levon stood amid the voracious creatures, and punched with deadly accuracy. I saw his chained fist bash into the side of one creature's head and cave it in. He had to pull his fist out of the concaved skull and an eyeball flew out with it.

  On the other side of the pile I saw the zombies falling several feet, as if the ground beneath them had shifted. Mark was on the pavement, beside his brother, swinging the katana at the horde's legs.

  I had to be careful as I entered the fray. The twins distributed a shocking amount of chaotic damage as they fought to survive. I did what I could and swung at a few of the creatures around the perimeter, but I didn't dare get too close. The two of them were far too dangerous.

  The twins killed the remaining horde and I circled the mess, cracking the skulls of any creatures that still dared to twitch. As the massacre ended, I glanced at Levon. He stood in the center of the bodies and looked back at me with wild eyes. His face was splattered with the blood of his victims and the whites of his eyes were the only vestiges of humanity I could see through the gore that caked him. Bite marks decorated his arms, and claw marks lined his cheeks, but he had survived.

  "Mark?" I called out and started to pull corpses off the pile.

  Levon grabbed body parts and tossed them aside as he dug for his twin.

  "Son of a bitch," said Mark as his brother pulled a corpse off him. I was relieved to hear his voice, but then I saw his condition.

  Levon pulled Mark up and a flood of fresh blood poured out of the crippled man's thigh. Mark didn't seem to notice as he smiled up at me.

  "Are they all dead?" he asked. "Did we do it?"

  Levon saw the wound on his brother's leg and quickly pulled him out of the pile and to the side. I ran to help as Mark tried to understand what was happening.

  "What's the matter?" asked Mark.

  "Your leg," said Levon. He had a steely determination to his actions as he carried his brother to safety.

  Mark looked down and saw the river of blood that fell from his pant leg. "Oh. That's not good."

  "Stay still." Levon set his brother on the pavement. He unbuckled Mark's pants and dragged them off to reveal the damage. There was a long gash through Mark's inner right thigh.

  "Fuck," said Mark. "I must have fallen on the sword. That looks bad."

  "It's fine," said Levon. "Not a big deal."

  It was though, and we all knew it. Mark's blood pumped out of him in surges and rolled down the hill. Levon took his shirt off and ripped it in half. He wrapped it around his brother's leg and pulled it tight. However, the flow of blood escaping didn't slow at all.

  I pressed against the wound to try and help as Levon struggled to make his tourniquet tighter. When I pressed on Mark's thigh the wound separated and blood squirted out in a stream that stretched halfway across the street.

  Mark laughed at the sight.

  "We got this," said Levon. He got up and ran to the wheelchair. It was on its side, with the tape still holding the joystick forward, and spun in a circle on the road. Levon grabbed the armrest and ripped the tape away to stop the wheels. Then he looked underneath for the bag of medical supplies he'd taken from the store. It wasn't there. When the chair flipped, everything that was underneath it flew out, into the street.

  Levon found the bag quickly, but when he tried to return to us something started to scream at him. There was a zombie inside the pharmacy that struggled to walk over the overturned shelves and debris to get out. It was a thin man, dressed in a police uniform, and looked stronger than the other zombies we'd fought off. This one looked fresh. It reached out for us and I saw one of the fingers on its right hand was nearly severed and dangled off him.

  "Take this," said Levon as he threw the bag of supplies to me. He turned away from us to confront the monster emerging from the pharmacy.

  I dug through the bag, but I didn't know what it contained that could possibly save Mark. I found a roll of white gauze that I could use to wrap around the wound, but I knew it wouldn't stop the blood loss. The sword had cut into a femoral artery. Mark was dying.

  He grabbed my hand as I started to wrap the bandage around his leg. I looked up at him and he just shook his head. His face had turned pale and his eyes drooped as he grinned.

  "I can't feel it," he said. His lips were white and his words came as barely a whisper. "All I feel is the cold. It doesn't hurt."

  "I'm going to try and stop the bleeding." I pulled away from his grip and started wrapping the wound again.

  "It's okay, Billy," he said and grabbed my hand again. "Look over there." He nodded at the pharmacy where his brother was about to face off with the zombie.

  I ignored him and continued to wrap his leg. He didn't have the strength to stop me, but he dug his thumbnail into my arm to get my attention. I glanced at him and he motioned again for me to look at his brother.

  Levon had the chain wrapped around his right fist as the police officer ran out of the building. He caught the creature by the throat with his left hand and used its momentum to flip it through the air and to the pavement. Then he sat on its chest and pounded its face over and over. The creature clawed at him, but it was no match for the strong man's fury.

  "Look at my brother," said Mark as his grip on my arm grew tighter. His eyes were filled with tears and he pulled me closer. "Look at my Hero." He held onto my arm with wavering strength. His voice trailed off as his muscles relaxed and he set his head on the pavement. "Look at my Hero."

  Then Mark closed his eyes for the last time.

  Levon came back to me, his right hand wet with the blood of yet another victim, and he knew his brother was gone. I looked up at him, ready to apologize, but he just nodded with a grimace as if he knew everything I wanted to say and didn't need to hear it. I moved away and let him in to say goodbye.

  He sat beside Mark and cradled his head in his lap. "I love you, brother. I know that's a dumb ass thing to say. You already know that, but I just needed to say it. If you're there, if you can hear me, I want you to know that I fucking loved you more than anything in the world. You were my best friend. I never gave a shit about nothing but you. You hear that? You're the greatest person I've ever known, and I was proud…" He started to cry and had to stop as the sorrow rolled through him. "I was so proud of you. You're my hero, bro. Always have been. Always will be."

  A child's distant scream interrupted the moment. It came from the docks and I recognized it as Kim's.

  "I've got to go," I said and picked up my bat.

  "Wait up," said Levon. He kissed his brother's forehead and then set him down. He took the sword out of Mark's hand and looked at me. "You're not going anywhere without me."

  "You sure? If you wanted to stay back here, I'd understand."

  He shook his head. "No way. There's a kid in trouble up there, and I'm in the mood to save a life."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN - A PROMISE FOR ANNIE

  Evening blanketed the city as the stars blazed to life above, unobstructed by the missing urban lights. Hero and I rushed down the hill, ready to fight a war against anyone that dared oppose us. We were fueled by a sense of loss and an unwillingness to lose anything more.

  There was a car parked outside the dock and a trail of blood led from the driver's side to the broken door of the building. I cautiously followed it inside, ready to fight whatever I encountered. I would kill anything that threatened Laura and the girls. Levon moved slower as he looked around for any sign of the cops.

  I wasn't prepared for what greeted me when I entered the dock house.

  A lantern's flickering light illuminated the wicked scene. Annie was tied to a post in the center of the room and her mouth was taped shut. A man's corpse was pressed against the far w
all, his head destroyed by a shotgun blast, and Laura's lifeless, bloodied body was laid out at her daughter's feet.

  "What in the hell happened here?" I asked as I entered. I walked to Annie and was about to pull the tape off her mouth when I heard a man's voice from above.

  "Look what we have here."

  It was Frank, the black cop I'd run into on Hailey Bay the day before. He was sitting in the rafters above me and when I turned to look at him I saw a shotgun staring back.

  "Put the bat down, slugger."

  "Fine," I spoke loudly to make sure Levon heard every word as he hid outside. "Looks like you've got the upper hand, with a shotgun. Why are you up in the rafters?"

  "I heard you coming. Figured I'd get the upper hand."

  "What happened in here?"

  "I was about to ask you the same thing," said Frank. "Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head."

  I complied and he jumped down. He stumbled when he fell, encumbered awkwardly by his bulletproof vest. A flashlight that had been strapped to his belt clattered on the ground as he stumbled, but he quickly regained his footing and pointed the shotgun at me again. "Was it you or the bitch that killed Ron?"

  "Who's Ron?"

  "The guy over there with the swiss cheese head." He motioned at the corpse on the wall.

  I shrugged. "It must have been Laura. What did you do to her?"

  "I didn't do shit. I found them like this."

  "You found Annie tied up and her mom laying there?"

  "No. Trev tied the kid up. He wanted to watch the mom come back as a zombie and eat her own kid." Frank shrugged and shook his head. "He's a little fucked up."

  "So where is he?"

  "You just missed him. He's headed back to the island. I was supposed to wait here for Chuck."

  "Well, I'm overjoyed to tell you he's going to be really, really late."

  Frank sighed. "He was a friend of mine, you piece of shit."

  "I can't fathom why you think I'd care."

  He took a pair of handcuffs off his belt and fumbled with them. "Put your hands behind your back."

 

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