Rotter World

by Scott M. Baker

  Dravko nodded. “Who were they?”

  “They were members of a gang who took us by surprise. They would have killed us if Natalie hadn’t convinced them to check out the Ryder.” Robson paused, not certain how to ask the next question. “What happened to the… the…?”

  “They’re still in the truck.” Dravko became uncomfortable, briefly breaking eye contact with Robson, but quickly regained it. He spoke softly so no one else could hear. “I’d like to take the Ryder behind one of these buildings and dispose of the bodies, if that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s probably the best idea.”

  As Dravko and the other vampires climbed into the Ryder’s cab, Robson stepped over to the group gathered by the school bus. “Listen up, people. We’ll be moving out soon, so get your things together. I need a couple of volunteers to help the colonel check out that convenience store across the street.”

  “I’ll go,” said Jennifer.

  “Me, too,” said Rashid.

  “Count me in,” added Josephine.

  Mad Dog shrugged. “What the hell.”

  “Good. This place looks safe, but stay alert and don’t let your guard down. We’ll meet back here in twenty minutes.”

  * * *

  The group crossed the parking lot and headed for the front of the convenience store. Thompson veered off toward the gas pumps. “Josephine and I will check for gas. The rest of you take a look around inside. And for God’s sake, be careful.”

  Mad Dog led the way to the front door. The glass remained intact, which seemed promising. Standing by the doors, he shined a flashlight inside and scanned the aisles and front counter. The shelves were empty. No debris littered the floor, and nothing seemed out of place.

  “What do you think?” asked Rashid.

  “Place looks cleaned out,” said Mad Dog. “But it doesn’t look looted.”

  Jennifer moved to the window on the far right and shined her flashlight inside. “Maybe the locals took everything they could, hoping to ride out the apocalypse.”

  “Could be.” Mad Dog lowered the flashlight and looked back toward the town. “But if that’s the case, where is everyone?”

  He placed his hand against the door and pushed. It opened. Stepping into the store, he paused and sniffed. No odor of decayed flesh.

  “Hey,” he yelled. “Is anyone here?”

  Silence.

  Mad Dog unsnapped the strap on his holster, removed his Magnum, and stepped inside. Jennifer and Rashid followed. Mad Dog motioned for them to stay there as he walked the length of the store, shining the light down each aisle. When he reached the far wall he yelled out again. “Is anyone here?”

  Again, no response.

  Mad Dog walked back to the others. “Looks like the coast is clear. Rashid, check out behind the counter. We’ll take the rest of the store.”

  Rashid gave a mock salute and headed off.

  Mad Dog and Jennifer walked up and down each aisle, shining their flashlights on empty shelves. The locals had cleared out everything, from food and drinks to pet food and household supplies. The two met up at the far corner.

  “Find anything?” asked Jennifer.

  “Nothing.” Mad Dog stepped back and yelled down the aisle to Rashid. “Find anything?”

  “Just a shitload of lottery tickets. Want to try your luck?”

  “Hell, no. This would be the one time I win.” Mad Dog flashed his light down a short corridor toward a door that led to the store room. “Keep an eye out here while Jennifer and I check out the back.”

  Mad Dog led the way, pausing in front of the restroom. He knocked on the door, listening for a response from the other side. When he heard nothing, he slowly opened the door and looked in, shining the light around. Closing it, he moved down to the store room door, with Jennifer close behind.

  Again Mad Dog knocked, and again he heard nothing. He turned the knob and pushed. Back here was even darker than out front. He sniffed, thankful not to smell rotters.

  “Anyone here?”

  No response. Mad Dog holstered his Magnum and stepped into the storeroom. As he swung the light around, Jennifer entered, letting the door close behind her. Wooden pallets were piled in the center of the floor. Beside the pallets, two stacks of broken down cardboard boxes stood five feet high, blocking the loading dock door. The metal door leading to the freezer stood off to their left.

  Mad Dog turned the light toward Jennifer, lowering it so the beam did not shine in her eyes. “Shit. They cleaned out back here, too. Not even a cockroach could survive.”

  “That’s fine by me. I hate roaches almost as much as rotters.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Wait a minute.” Jennifer walked over to the freezer door and grabbed the handle, pulling it toward her. It popped open. “I want to make sure there’s nothing in here.”

  As the door opened, the stench of decayed flesh overwhelmed them. A chorus of moans shattered the silence. Jennifer tried to slam the door shut, but too many rotters shoved against it. She stumbled back into the pallets and nearly toppled over. Mad Dog raced forward, grabbed Jennifer by the arm, and prevented her from falling. As they watched, nearly twenty rotters staggered out of the freezer, filling the far end of the storeroom and blocking the exit.

  “W-we’re trapped,” stammered Jennifer.

  “No fuck, lady.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Mad Dog unholstered his Magnum and cocked back the hammer. “We’re gonna kick some rotter ass.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Mad Dog slowly stepped back from the rotters as they staggered toward him. He used his body to shield Jennifer as he herded her back against the loading dock door, keeping the pallets and stacks of cardboard to his right and the wall to his left. Jennifer knelt down, grabbed the handle, and yanked up. The door moved a fraction of an inch and stopped, rattling in its rollers.

  “The damn thing’s locked.”

  “No big deal.” Mad Dog aimed at the closest rotter, which wore a gore-soiled State Trooper uniform and a motorcycle helmet, and squeezed the trigger. The Magnum roared, sending a .357 round into the rotter’s face. The helmet reflected back much of the blast, fracturing its face and blowing its eyes out of its socket. It dropped to its knees and tottered for a second before falling over.

  Shifting his aim, Mad Dog fired four more rounds, shattering the heads of the next four rotters. Each one crumpled to the floor between the pallets and the wall, blocking the path for the others. A rotter in National Guard cammies tried climbing over the pile of corpses. Mad Dog took aim, but at the last moment the zombie slipped, falling face-first on the floor in front of him.

  Behind the National Guard rotter came a former firefighter still in its yellow coat, an axe deeply lodged into its chest just above the right breast. Mad Dog placed the flashlight on the stack of cardboard and moved forward. He grabbed the axe handle in his left hand and, lifting his leg, placed his right foot on the rotter’s abdomen. It opened its mouth and snarled. Mad Dog shoved the barrel of his Magnum into its mouth.

  “Eat this, asshole.”

  As he shoved with his foot, Mad Dog pulled the trigger. The last .357 round ripped through the rotter’s head, splattering skull fragments and brain tissue on those behind it. The force of the round combined with the shove propelled the firefighter backwards. It fell into three more zombies, knocking them over.

  Rashid burst through the door leading out to the store. “What’s going on? Are you—?”

  The rotter closest to Rashid, a stubby man in a county deputy’s uniform, spun around to face him. Its abdomen was swollen to five times its normal size so that the skin pushed its way through the shirt, which was held together by a single button around the neck. It snarled and lumbered toward the food. Rashid tried to raise his shotgun, but the obese rotter was too close. Before he could back up, the rotter stumbled and, due to its ungainly size, toppled forward onto Rashid. The two crashed to the floor. Rashid felt his elbows
crack against the cement floor, the bolts of pain that shot down his arms so intense he nearly dropped the weapon. Fortunately he did not, for the shotgun clutched in his hands and held across his chest had caught the zombie across the shoulders, keeping it away from him. The obese rotter struggled to get to Rashid, flailing against the shotgun and straining its neck to bite him. With all that weight pressing down on him, Rashid felt the muscles in his arms quickly tiring.

  “Hey,” he yelled. “How about some help here?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little busy.”

  The rotter in the cammies grabbed Mad Dog by the ankle and pulled itself toward him. Mad Dog shook it loose and stepped back. Raising the axe above his head, he brought it down as hard as he could on the rotter’s head. The blade sliced through the skull and lodged deep in its brain. It shuddered for a moment before going limp. Mad Dog tried to remove the axe, but it remained stuck in its head. Placing his right foot on one side of the ruptured skull, he yanked and twisted. The blade came free with a sickening squish, spilling brain fragments onto the floor.

  A rotter in a tattered nurse’s uniform closed in on Mad Dog. He slammed the blunt side of the axe blade into its face. It staggered back a few steps. Before the rotter could surge forward, Mad Dog swung the axe horizontally like a baseball bat, slicing the blade through its neck with a single swing. Its head flew across the storeroom and smacked into the wall, leaving a gore spot.

  From the other side of the sliding metal door Dravko yelled out, “Is everyone okay?”

  “No!” screamed Jennifer. “We’re being attacked by rotters! Help u—”

  A rotter leaned across the stack of cardboard boxes and clutched Jennifer’s arm. She tried to pull away, but its grip was too tight. Grabbing the flashlight in her free hand, she slammed it against the thing’s head.

  “Let…”

  Jennifer hit it again.

  “…go…”

  And again.

  “…of me…”

  And again.

  “…motherfucker.”

  “Lean back,” yelled Mad Dog. As Jennifer did, he brought the axe down on the rotter’s left arm, severing it above the elbow. He did the same with the right arm. Released from its grip, Jennifer fell back against the wall, panting in fear. Mad Dog swung the axe like a bat, cleaving through its head directly across its eyes.

  Distracted by saving Jennifer, Mad Dog almost didn’t see the armless rotter coming up on his flank. He jumped to the side at the last second. It stumbled past him toward Jennifer. Spinning around, Mad Dog brought the axe down on the back of the rotter’s head, cracking the skull open from its neck to its forehead. It dropped to the ground by Jennifer’s feet. She frantically kicked at it as she scooted on her ass into the far corner.

  Thompson and Ari rushed into the storeroom in time to see the melee in full swing. Thompson kicked the obese rotter in the face, sending teeth and remnants of lip flying in all directions. It snarled at the intruders. Ari fired her Mauser from the hip. Her aim was off, hitting the rotter in the abdomen. Its gut burst open, spilling a hundred pounds of undigested, rotting meat onto Rashid. She retched at the stench, but quickly regained her composure. Raising the Mauser and taking careful aim, this time she placed a bullet squarely between its eyes. The rotter fell over to one side.

  At that moment, the lock on the metal door snapped. The door rolled open, revealing the four vampires standing outside. Each already had morphed into their vampiric forms. The rotters near the rear of the horde turned to greet the new food and lumbered toward them. Dravko and Sultanic raced in first, hacking apart the two closest living dead. Tibor and Tatyana joined them. Tibor grabbed a teenage rotter by the head and squeezed, crushing its skull. Tatyana lunged at a female rotter in a deputy’s uniform, tearing off its jaw with an angry swipe of her hand. Undaunted, it continued towards Tatyana until she plunged two taloned fingers through its eyes and gouged, scrambling its brain.

  The last few rotters were quickly felled, Thompson taking down two with his Colt .45 and Ari another. Dravko eviscerated a fourth before ripping off its head. They all stood by and watched Mad Dog dispatch the last rotter, knocking it to the ground before he hacked it to pieces in an orgy of axe strokes. When he finally finished, the only sound came from the living panting heavily from fear and exhaustion.

  Mad Dog tossed the axe aside and looked at Thompson and Ari, a grin spreading out beneath his beard. “What took you so long?”

  Robson, Natalie, and O’Bannon rushed into the storeroom. Natalie flinched at the stench and held her hand over her mouth.

  “Jesus,” mumbled Robson as he swung his flashlight around the carnage. “What the fuck happened?”

  Mad Dog pointed to the freezer. “Someone locked a shitload of rotters inside. When we opened the door, they swarmed us.”

  “Is everyone okay?”

  Rashid jumped up, chunks of gore dropping off of him, and ran down the corridor. He made it only a few yards before dropping to his knees and vomiting. Despite his stomach being empty, he continued heaving. Natalie followed to check on him.

  Mad Dog looked around for Jennifer. He found her backed into the corner. She clutched the flashlight so tightly to her chest the beam barely illuminated her. Stepping over to her, he crouched down and spoke with uncharacteristic tenderness.

  “It’s over. They’re all dead.”

  “A-are you sure?”

  Mad Dog nodded. “You’re safe now.”

  Jennifer hesitantly extended her hand, clasping Mad Dog’s. He helped Jennifer to her feet. Once standing, she rushed into his arms and buried her head into his chest, sobbing. Mad Dog wrapped his arms around her and gently patted her shoulder before leading her to the relative safety of outside.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Robson followed Mad Dog and Jennifer through the convenience store. He was concerned about the woman’s mental state, which seemed only natural considering what she had just gone through. He said nothing, hoping Mad Dog’s tenderness would keep Jennifer anchored in sanity and prevent her from going over the edge.

  As they exited the store, Robson noticed that everyone outside had gone into lock-and-load mode. The Angels on guard duty had stayed at their posts, but were on heightened alert. Those Angels who had been eating dinner a few minutes ago now crouched in a semi-circle in front of the store, their Mausers trained outwards. Almost everyone else huddled by their respective vehicles, ready to join the fight or bug out at a moment’s notice. O’Bannon and Compton waited by the gas pumps.

  “What the hell happened in there?” O’Bannon asked Mad Dog. Mad Dog walked by without answering, more concerned with comforting Jennifer and getting her someplace where she would feel safe.

  “You can stand down,” said Robson. “The situation is under control.”

  The Angels hesitated for a few seconds before getting up. Swinging their Mausers over their shoulders, they sauntered back to the convoy, hovering around Ari and bombarding her with a dozen questions at once.

  O’Bannon sidled up to Robson. “What situation is under control?”

  “Apparently the store was empty, until Mad Dog and Jennifer opened the freezer. Someone had locked twenty rotters inside, and when they opened the door they were swarmed.”

  “Makes sense,” said Compton.

  “How so?”

  Compton looked up and down the street, although his vision only extended as far as the floodlights on the vehicles. “Look how meticulous this town is. No bodies or abandoned cars in the streets. No barricades. No signs of a panic. Whoever ran this town kept a tight ship. If you were going to lock up your rotters, the freezer is ideal. They can’t escape unless someone lets them out, and the cold would keep the bodies from decaying. At least while the electricity was still running.”

  “But why keep them at all?” asked Robson.

  Compton shrugged. “Maybe they were waiting until they had enough to make a decent bonfire.”

  “Maybe,” O’Bannon mumb
led, not sounding very convinced. “But what happened to the people who ran this town?”

  As Robson contemplated that unsettling thought, Dravko drove the Ryder around from behind the convenience store and parked near the group of men. Dravko leaned out the driver’s window. “Are your people okay?”

  Robson nodded. “And you?”

  “We checked ourselves out. No bites or scratches.”

  “That’s good to hear. Thanks for coming to the rescue back there.”

  “You’re welcome.” Dravko smiled. “We’re in this together.”

  As Dravko drove the truck back to the convoy, Robson turned to see the friendly exchange had not settled well with Compton or O’Bannon. Compton looked frustrated and refused to make eye contact with him. O’Bannon glared at him with a look that bordered between disgust and hatred. Fuck ‘em, thought Robson. If Dravko and the others had not shown up when they did, he would certainly have lost people in that storeroom.

  Thompson and Rashid exited the convenience store, the colonel walking several paces to the rear. Robson immediately understood why. He could smell the stench hanging off of Rashid from here.

  “Jesus Christ.” O’Bannon gagged. “What the fuck happened to you?”

  “Don’t ask,” Rashid snapped.

  Robson and the others stepped back as Rashid passed by. “Get out of those clothes and toss them. Have Natalie give you a gallon of water to wash yourself off.”

  Rashid looked at him awkwardly. “It’s gonna take more than a gallon of water to wash away this stink.”

  “I know. But that’s all we can spare.”

  “He’s not sitting beside me,” joked O’Bannon.

  “I love you, too.”

  A frightening thought suddenly dawned on Robson. “You didn’t get any of that shit in your eyes or mouth, did you?”

  “Thank God, no. I just bathed in it.”

  “Make sure you wash your face and hands with anti-bacterial soap.”

  Rashid grimaced as he continued back to the convoy. “You guys are all heart.”