Janus (Zombies versus Dinosaurs Book 2)

by James Livingood

  Paul turned toward his smiling daughter. “Lovely night to go camping, right?” he asked. She looked confused for a moment, but he didn’t have time to explain. He grabbed her nearby backpack and pushed the dresser away.

  The floor boards creaked beneath him as he darted into the kitchen with the back pack. He used his arm to throw in food. He opened the utensil drawer and grabbed a handful of forks. The flames drew nearer to the kitchen and the bedroom. Paul put in a roll of tape and a small pot for cooking. He almost forgot matches. He ran across the kitchen and threw in a small box of matches. He turned around to see his daughter there, a large knife pointed at him. He smile and grabbed the knife away from her. He shoved that into the back pack as well.

  Paul unlatched the kitchen window and risked a look outside. The zombies were preoccupied with biting people in houses that weren’t on fire. The screams echoed away from farther away now. Not seeing any zombie presence around, Paul motioned his daughter to come up to him. He helped her out of the window and then followed after her. Paul put his finger to his lips to indicate being quiet. They got a block away from the house before an encountering another zombie.

  This zombie was charred and looked to be the same one that they had set on fire. It was thrashing around on the ground. It started to crawl toward them.

  Paul then saw a zombie casually walk up and stab the first in the head with a spear. Blue brains didn’t use weapons. Then again, they weren’t supposed to be able to use dinosaurs either. This one was somehow different. It was calm and methodical. The zombie didn’t appear to be in a rush at all. It looked at them and walked past. Paul just stared at the calm zombie. Of all the things he had seen tonight he did not expect to see a calm zombie.

  The thing went to a nearby barn where Paul heard animals going wild. It was doing something to those poor creatures. Why did it ignore Paul and kill one its own? He felt rough hands suddenly grasp him. He turned quickly to see a regular person grab him.

  “What do we do Pale Rider? What do we do? Their everywhere!” shrieked the man.

  “We run. For all the peace in heaven’s sigh, we run!” Paul pointed forward. He saw another couple getting out of their home and running toward them. Paul pushed forward with his daughter on his heels. Soon a small crowd of people were moving with him.

  The woman who was next to Paul suddenly grew a spear. She looked down at the wood sticking from her chest and the blood, and fell to her side. Paul looked behind him to see the calm zombie standing there, one less spear.

  The calm zombie then yelled at him. “You must be their alpha!”

  Paul had never heard a zombie talk. Sure, they may groan or grunt, but by the time their blood had changed they no longer spoke. It was obviously a zombie. The skin tone and the wounds indicated that. Still, the thing had not only spoken, it had yelled at him. He knew that this would not be a challenge that he could run from.

  “Take my daughter! Get out of here! Towards the caves.” He commanded the crowd near him. He pushed the backpack half full of supplies towards his daughter.

  The calm zombie made a hand motion and something that was sneaking around them stopped. Paul did not like whatever was happening here.

  “Go, now!” he commanded. They finally obeyed. One of the men had to grab his daughter roughly to take her away. She wanted to stay and fight with her father. He would not have allowed that.

  As the small crowd disappeared, Paul saw shapes start to gather around. The circled around him, but did not close the distance. The weird calm zombie continued to step forward. It reached the dead woman with the spear in her, and the zombie yanked the spear out. It focused on him with cold eyes. The fire Paul saw in the zombies eyes were not just from his burning home. Paul saw something else burning there. A hunger far deeper than just a mouthful of flesh. Paul’s smile continued to creep upward.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN:

  Greetings back

  Janus saw the man and knew what he was. Janus could feel the strong instinct within the non-liberated alpha. It gathered those around and directed the non-liberated. The man probably didn’t even know what he was doing. That was the curse of having their blood. You could feel your instinct, but you then ignored it.

  On the other end, Janus embraced his cold instinct. He saw those that followed him surround the man. It was a foolish thing to do. They wanted the alpha to have the glory of this kill, the other alpha, and then steal nips at their collective prey. What they forgot was the crowd of non-liberated running up the street. Foolish mistake, but the blood lust that they felt was now targeted at this intruder. At this other alpha. They didn’t want someone else’s liberation, they wanted this one man’s liberation. Why? Because it’s what their alpha wanted.

  “What are you?” said the smiling man.

  Janus knew of no better introduction then to throw the newly acquired spear again at the man. Janus expected the spear to pierce into the man’s shoulder. He would then toy with his prey for awhile. Instead the man caught the spear out of the air. Janus raised an eyebrow.

  In an instant, the man swung the spear at an on-looker. It cracked the liberated man in the skull and sent him flopping onto the ground. To Janus’s surprise, that cracked appeared to be lethal. The rest of the pack knew it too and it wanted to rip this invader apart. Janus had a hard time controlling the pack. He signaled harshly for everyone to relax. To give him the kill. Some of his liberated men looked angry and defiant at Janus. They really wanted this one’s blood.

  The non-liberated man surprised Janus a second time but thrusting the spear into the skull of another nearby liberated man. It was too much blood for the pack to wait any longer. It was far too much for even Janus’s blood to handle. He pulsed towards the man, killing his own that got in the way. Janus pulled on the hair of a liberated woman, throwing her away from his prey. The movement was so harsh it cracked her spine. Janus shouldered his way into the middle of another and then uppercut a liberated young man. His body lurched up and his neck tore. His head was barely held on by the spine.

  The other alpha was also deep in the business of killing. As the man crushed a skull with a rock he dodged a mouth. The movement caused the liberated man to stumble, which allowed the other alpha to simply relocate the rock and crush another skull. As the non-liberated man got up, he looked at Janus with a wide grin and opened eyes. Janus could tell the man was hurt, but the way his arm moved. It was a wrong movement. He also knew that the man would not heal, as he was not afforded Janus’s kiss.

  What Janus could tell was that the man was seeking him out too. The two of them wanted to fight. It was a matter far beyond the both of them. Something in each man cried out for blood. Both wanted to further their pack. They charged each other with vicious hate, each desiring the other’s destruction. The time for talk was far over, but that suited them both.

  CHAPTER TWENTY:

  Enclosed

  The only way to save his daughter was to kill as many of these blue brains as possible. There was even a chance, as remote as it was, that he could kill the calm one. He didn’t know why, but part of him really wanted to kill the calm zombie. Perhaps he could change the tide of this destruction if he killed that one.

  They reached other and threw out fists. Paul’s fists didn’t aim for the head. Instead, Paul went for the ribs. This seemed to surprise the zombie. Apparently this calm zombie liked to snap off heads. Paul had seen the display and went for the something different. The hit was enough for the zombie to lose its footing. Paul twisted around and tried to kick the stable leg from under the zombie. Seeing his opponent topple to the ground, Paul looked for a rock to quickly finish off his foe.

  The zombie found the rock first and smashed it against the toes of his boot. Paul could feel bones crack in his boot as blood started to stain through. Paul stepped back painfully. This thing had enough insight that it didn’t want Paul to escape during his fight. Paul had no intention of escaping. All Paul wanted to do is buy as much time as possible. If he drew en
ough of the attention away from his fleeing daughter, perhaps she would have a chance at life. Stretching past himself for that was worth his life.

  He watched the zombie slowly creep back to its feet. Paul took his boot off and threw it at a watching zombie. The thing hissed but didn’t make a movement forward. Paul smiled and continued to watch the calm zombie. The calm zombie glanced at the hissing zombie and stomped in its direction. Paul realized they communicated in some kind of way. It was all too much for the night. Too many things that should have never happened had happened. He started laughing loudly.

  The calm zombie studied him and then charged. Paul simply held his fist out. All the instinct within Paul told him to twist one way or the other. To escape, and to run from this threat. Paul ignored every fiber of instinct and just kept a fist straight out.

  The zombie expected Paul to change position at the last moment. It was obvious that the zombie expected Paul to shift right. It turned toward the right and connected with Paul’s outstretched fist. To those on the outside looking in, it must have looked like the zombie just ran into Paul’s fist and punched itself.

  Paul ignored his instinct again and back away two steps. His instinct called to push his advantage, to take down a stunned opponent. He didn’t care about that. He knew that if he killed this one, others would swarm him. If he stalled, then perhaps it would confuse this group. That confusion could mean a few extra minutes for the folks trying to escape.

  The zombie came out with a knife and slashed up into the air. If Paul had pressed his advantage, he would have had his guts slit. However, by stepping back, he had avoided the blade.

  The calm zombie flipped the knife in its hand and stared at Paul in amazement. There was something blooming in the creature’s eyes: uncertainty. It quickly hid the surprise in its eyes and started to snarl. It didn’t approach Paul, instead walking around him.

  Paul laughed and walked back to his house, his back turned to the creature. It was a risky gamble, but Paul knew that if he could lure the creature in, perhaps he could kick it into the burning home. The calm zombie did not charge though. It continued watching him, trying to decide what was going on.

  Paul walked calmly into his burning house, as if the building wasn’t turning into an inferno. Paul grabbed a chair that wasn’t on fire and walked outside with it. Paul pattered down the flames on his coat and set the chair out in the street. He then sat down.

  The moment he sat down, howls erupted around him. It was a bizarre sound to hear zombies howling. He had no idea what was going through his mind. Why had he just went into his burning house to grab a chair? And what on earth made him sit down in the middle of a zombie horde.

  It was the step back from the calm zombie that made Paul figure out what he was doing. These things were slaves to their stomachs. They killed and they feasted. That was all they were capable of. However, this calm zombie was somehow leading them to bigger supplies of food. By switching his mode from prey to hunter, Paul had confused them. Somehow he didn’t seem like food anymore. The calm zombie then sat down, watching him with a hate Paul had never seen.

  Paul laughed at the calm zombie. It kept trying to find a way to sit that was taller than Paul. However, it didn’t have a chair. It sat on dead bodies and then on a rock. Both of these were not tall enough. The fact that it had failed to become taller frustrated the creature. Finally it found a barrel to sit on that made it slightly taller, though the barrel kept rolling.

  A wicked idea crossed Paul’s mind. He had ignored his instinct to run and flee. He had ignored his instinct to fight. What if he twisted that again? Paul yawned loudly and crossed his legs. Again the crowd howled and whooped. Paul could feel a small rock pass by his head but he chose to ignore it. The calm zombie tried to imitate Paul. It raised both feet off the ground and laid on the barrel. However, the barrel kept rolling and soon the calm zombie fell on its side.

  Paul then gave into his instincts and leaped out of the chair. He grabbed the back of the chair and ran towards the fallen calm zombie. The smashed the chair over and over again against the thing. The creature swatted the chair aside breaking it away. Paul held on and soon had just the backing of the wooden chair in his hands. He thrust down the chair back like a guillotine. He hoped it would be enough to cut the creature’s head off.

  Unfortunately for Paul, there was an opening large enough for the neck to twist into. Had the chair been constructed different, perhaps it would have been enough to cut the thing’s head off. Instead it pinned it to the ground. Paul jumped off and ran into his house again. Zombies started to chase after him but became scared of the fire. One ignored their fear and jumped in. The wooden beams of the roof collapsed and pinned the zombie on the front porch, where it slowly consumed fire. Paul ran towards the back of the house and jumped out a window. He rolled several times putting out the fire. He continued to run in an opposite direction from the folks escaping his daughter. Perhaps he could have this zombie horde chase him in the opposite direction. That might buy even more time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:

  Why

  Janus laid there on his back, stunned at what just happened. It became apparent why this man had become the other side’s alpha. It was a complete breakdown in logic, but the result was Janus on his back. In the crowd of liberated man he heard them chasing off toward the prey. A hand grabbed the wood and pulled it from the ground, freeing Janus. The beta snorted and sat down next to Janus.

  Janus was glad to have the pack away for that. He did not like getting help from the beta of the pack and didn’t like looking weak. What this non-liberated man had done did not make sense. The man ignored instincts and got the upper ground, then switched and let his instincts flood in. It was like using freedom like a switch. One moment, instinct was restricted, the next it was turned up. Janus sat that looking at the burning house. He felt that even if he did bite this man, he could never fully liberate him. It was a waste of his time to chase him down and kill him. It was a waste of time to even think about him. Still, Janus looked at the burning house and tried to comprehend what just happened.

  Could he turn instincts off? Why would he turn his freedom off? What would make him willingly walk into that cage? Janus thought of his pack and decided that even if everyone were to die, he would always have his instinct fully flared up.

  Why didn’t he chase down the other then? Why did he sit here and stare at the fire consuming the wood? It was an odd sensation. The beta hit him on the head and Janus snapped around and punched the beta. Soon, the two were fighting with their fists and mouths. Janus and found a chair leg and ran it through the beta’s leg. That was enough to send his challenger hobbling into the night. Janus turned back around and continued to stare at the fire.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:

  The Change

  The beta hobbled into the night. It wondered why it helped the alpha of this pack. Every time it tried to gain favor, it was punched or kicked, or had a chair leg ran through him. The alpha always acted so harshly around him. Ever since he had tried to take a mouthful of the alpha’s kill, it was apparent that he was on the outs. As he watched his alpha stare into the fire, the beta began to question.

  His kind would look focused on feasting and fornicating. Like wild animals who healed quickly and never got their fill. The alpha had been all about learning and mastering your own instincts. Right now, it looked like the alpha was trying to do just that.

  The other alpha appeared to be more for the pack. It fought hard to keep the lives of the pack, even the weaker small ones. The beta thought about this contrast between the two. Both appeared to be slaves in his eyes. One was a slave to the moment’s desire. The other was a slave to others. Neither one appeared to have true freedom.

  The beta pulled the chair leg from his body and started walking away. The injury did not bleed or cause much discomfort. Every step away from town felt odd. It was a step away from the drama and struggle. He would not be part of a pack that did not want him. He would
not be part of a pack that required him to sacrifice himself for the greater good. His definition of freedom would be found with his own feet. Each pool of dust that puffed up underneath his toes was a wonder. Each leg muscle that tensed a thrill. The Beta began to pick up speed. The wind pushed his hair back and soon shrubs and rocks were tearing at his legs.

  The beta had just discovered some semblance of logic. It was something above instincts or preservation. He howled for no reason. He had not killed something. He had not been hunting or had a member of his pack fall. Still his throat was pleased at the volume of his voice. He enjoyed the vibration rattling his throat. He puffed his chest out in an effort to increase the sound. Soon, his breath had run low and his howl had to fade again. Instead of howling again, he continued to ran further into the woods.

  The beta might or might not build his own pack. The beta might or might not hunt with that pack. He smiled. He jumped over a log but couldn’t bring his legs fully up. He had already forgotten about his injury. The log tripped him and he fell in mud puddle near the log. He twisted and wiped the mud off his face. His smile grew wider and he howled again. He would make mistakes. He would always make mistakes. Perhaps that was part of his true nature? Perhaps thats the true nature of all things living?