Officer Barcomb vs. The Undead

by Darren Barcomb

  “Ash!” Haws shouted.

  Haws shook his leg but the zombie was gripping him with its remaining hand. Haws held onto the tree with all his strength as the weight of the zombie dragged him down. He swung his leg back and forth to free himself. He felt the zombie’s bones pressed against his knee. Haws pulled himself up with everything he had and looped an arm over the thick tree branch. With his other hand, he pulled the shotgun from his back and pressed it directly against the zombie’s chest. A hot blast from the shotgun tore through the zombie’s rib cage and smashed its spine into tiny fragments. What was left of the zombie fell away from Haws’s leg. Haws checked his leg for scratches, wiping away the blood and his torn jeans, and, seeing nothing, started climbing towards where Ash fell into a dark tangle of branches.

  Haws swore to himself the whole way down: “Fuckin’ stupid, undead fuckin’ assholes coming up into our shit and fuckin’ everything up. Fuckin’ get my foot stuck in his fuckin’ chest.”

  Just below halfway down the tree he saw Ash slumped over a thick branch with blood around her head. He was halfway to her when the whole tree began to fall.

  *

  Haws was on a beach. He was riding a motorcycle with a drink in his hand and the wind in his face. He was doing his best to smile, but something was irritating him, some sound. He couldn’t place it. He stopped the bike and threw away the drink in anger. He looked all around the bike for the source of the sound, a loud, repetitive knocking. He moved the handlebars. He looked over every square inch of the engine of his beautiful, brand new Harley. He found nothing, but the noise continued. He couldn’t place the source. He thought maybe it was in his head.

  Haws opened his eyes and saw the source. He was back in the wet, cold forest and a thick branch that lay on top of him, a branch bigger than most trees, was all that stood between Haws and the blade of the fireman’s axe.

  Haws was trapped.

  He couldn’t see Ash anywhere.

  The blade of the axe landed in the branch in front of Haws’s chest. He pushed upwards on the branch and felt movement. He couldn’t throw it off, but maybe he could slide out, he thought. His muscles burned with the strain as he pushed up on the thick, heavy branch as the fireman tried to pull its axe free of the wood.

  The branch fell back down on Haws. This is it, he thought. Some fucker in a fireman’s outfit is gonna axe me in the face and I’m done. His life didn’t flash before his eyes in the traditional sense. He knew it was coming now. The fall had taken it out of him. There was no moving. There was no getting out of this one. But it wasn’t a series of images that flashed through his mind, not like in the movies. Haws, instead, had a series of thoughts in quick succession. He ran through the people in his life, past and present. He thought about them each for only a split second, but for each he could easily recall a good memory. The assholes, they didn’t make an appearance. All that mattered were the good people: his mom, his brother, his friends from back in the day, Barcomb, Ash. He thought only good thoughts. He was pissed that he was about to die, but he was overcome with gratitude. Though he felt like he was dying like a chump, he was happy he’d lived like a fuckin’ bad motherfucker. He gave the branch one last push, but he had nothing left.

  “Come on then, you little prick,” Haws said. “Do your worst.”

  The fireman stood over the branch, placing one foot on top of it and making it crush Haws’s chest further. It lifted the axe above its head and hissed through a face which was making a scream. Haws thought it was almost smiling. Haws shut his eyes and thought of Hawaii. He’d always wanted to go, ever since he was a kid.

  Haws’s eyes were closed for what seemed like forever. And then there came a sound.

  “Are you enjoying your fucking nap time there?”

  Haws opened his eyes. It was Ash. She smiled. Ash had hold of the axe. The fireman was beheaded on the ground beside her. Its head was still snapping and hissing. Ash took the axe to the branch and within a few minutes had cut Haws free.

  “I thought I was a goner,” Haws said, taking her hand to get up.

  Ash laughed.

  “I thought you were too,” he said.

  Ash wiped her own blood away from her face and said, “Not this time. It’s just a bash. I’ll live.”

  “That’s a very optimistic attitude,” the man behind her said, pulling the hammer back on his pistol.

  Ash turned and saw a man in a suit holding a pistol in one hand and an AR-15 in the other. Behind him, just out of the way behind the trees, she could see the lights of a six-wheeler truck through the rain.

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Ash said.

  “Well,” the man said, “trouble is what you have.”

  Ash took a step back to be beside Haws.

  “What are you doing around these parts?” the driver of the truck said.

  “None of your fuckin’ business,” Haws replied.

  “Looking for shelter,” Ash said. “That’s all.”

  Ash eyed the fireman zombie’s severed head on the floor. Its mouth still snarled and snapped, though it made no noise.

  “Who are you?” the driver asked.

  “Name’s Ash, and this is Eddie.”

  “What’s your fuckin’ name?” Haws asked.

  “Fuck you,” the driver said. “That’s my name.”

  “Cute,” Haws said with a snarl.

  “Well, I’d take you with me,” the driver said, “but I got a full house already. I guess I’m just gonna have to kill you.”

  Ash saw something move in the shadows in the trees. It looked like a person on all fours. She jerked back from it instinctively. “What the fuck is that?” she said. She looked at Haws and looked back and whoever it was had gone.

  The driver smiled. “That’s just Pocahontas,” he said.

  “Pocahontas?” Ash said.

  “Say it louder,” the driver said. “You’ll see. Go on.”

  Ash was reluctant.

  “Well,” the driver said, “if you don’t want to meet Pocahontas I might as well just kill you now.”

  “Pocahontas,” Ash said, in the direction of the shadows. “Pocahontas.”

  “Louder,” the driver said.

  “Pocahontas,” Ash said, louder.

  From out of the shadows came a woman on all fours, painfully thin with knife-cut hair and big dark eyes, eyes that hadn’t slept for weeks. Ash felt immediately sick upon seeing her.

  “What-” Ash said. “What have you done to that woman?”

  “I don’t see a woman,” the driver said. “What woman?”

  Haws scowled at the sight of her. “You sick fuck,” he said.

  “Oh, this isn’t my dog,” the driver said. “This is my boss’s dog.”

  “You need to find a better employer,” Haws said.

  “Mr. Torrento is very generous with his friends,” the driver said.

  “Torrento?” Ash said.

  “You’ve heard of him?” the driver said, surprised.

  Ash nodded.

  “What have you heard?” the driver asked. “Have other people heard?”

  Pocahontas walked on bleeding hands and feet in between the driver and Haws and Ash.

  “I’ve heard he’s crazy,” Ash replied. “Supposed to be some big scary drug kingpin.”

  The driver nodded, interested. He lifted his pistol and pointed it at Ash’s head. “Mr. Torrento doesn’t like it when people have heard of him. It means he hasn’t done a good job,” the driver said. “But you’re too pretty to go to waste. I got a man and a woman in the truck. I’m seriously considering killing the man and taking you in his place. Mr. Torrento likes his meat, but he loves his dogs.”

  Ash frowned. Pocahontas sniffed at Ash’s leg.

  “What do you say, pretty lady?” the driver said. “You can die right here, or you can come with me. You’d make an excellent house pet. Look at that mouth. What do you say?”

  Ash looked at Haws. Pocahontas growled up at Haws. Haws nodded to Ash.<
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  “OK,” Ash said. “Let him go, and I’ll come with you.”

  The driver thought for a moment. “Nope,” he said.

  He raised the AR-15 and, before it came up, Ash swung a leg out as hard as she could and kicked the fireman zombie’s severed head in the driver’s direction. Haws rolled to the ground and picked up his shotgun. The driver got off a couple of rounds before the severed zombie head struck him in the chest and knocked him down. Haws ended his roll on one knee with his shotgun aimed at the floored driver’s head. Haws didn’t even think. The trigger pulled itself. The driver’s face and skull and hair exploded in a thick fog.

  Pocahontas leaped onto Haws’s back and scratched at him. She sunk her sharpened teeth into his back and drew blood, tearing out a chunk of flesh. Haws grabbed her by the arm and twisted hard until she flipped down in front of him and writhed to get free. Ash jumped in and leaped on top of Pocahontas, sitting on her bare chest and holding her arms down by the wrists. She thrashed and barked and growled and made squealing noises as Haws picked up the AR-15 and pointed it at her head.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Haws said, putting his finger on the trigger.

  Pocahontas’s squawking and forced barking became frantic. And then a word came through. The word was “Please.” She barked a dozen more times and never stopped fighting, and then that word came again: “Please.”

  Ash looked at Haws, concerned.

  Haws raised the butt of the gun to his shoulder, ready to fire.

  The word came again. It was unmistakable, even amid all the growls and thrashing: “Please.”

  Haws lowered his gun. Ash let go of Pocahontas’s arms and they immediately retracted to wrap around and cover her own head in a protective layer. Ash stood up and Pocahontas nearly curled up into a ball like a hedgehog. Her barks and growls became howls of despair, cries of utter hopelessness.

  “Please,” she said.

  Her crying was loud. The shotgun sound worried Ash. Zombies would be coming.

  Ash knelt beside Pocahontas and put a hand on her shoulder. When she felt the hand on her, Pocahontas recoiled in terror and screamed.

  “It’s OK,” Ash said, over and over. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe.”

  Haws took off his shirt and lay it over her body, now bare-chested himself.

  “We’re gonna have to calm this girl down or she’s gonna bring Hell down on us,” Haws said. “Let’s get to the truck.”

  Ash put her face beside Pocahontas’s ear and whispered: “We’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe. You’re with friends. Friends are here. You’re safe. Let’s get to the truck.”

  Ash lifted Pocahontas by the arm and she gingerly moved towards the truck. She was still wailing. Haws said, “Fuck this,” picked her up over his shoulder and carried her to the truck, enduring the bites and scratches as she struggled to get free. Ash ran ahead and opened the door and Haws put her inside and shut it after. Inside, she seemed to quiet down.

  “I guess this Torrento guy is somewhere around here,” Haws said.

  “And we should get the fuck out of here as soon we can,” Ash said.

  “Agreed,” Haws said. “I don’t want any part of this kind of crazy. That was a Hell of a kick you got on you there with that fuckin’ head, I gotta say.”

  Ash shrugged. “I played a lot of soccer in high school.”

  “Saved by a fuckin’ soccer player,” Haws laughed. “What is the world coming to?”

  A bang from the truck’s storage compartment grabbed their attention. Haws frowned at Ash, then gestured to her to get ready to open the hatch. He raised the AR-15 and nodded to her.

  Ash flipped it open.

  “Motherfucker,” Haws said with a smile.

  “Motherfucker yourself,” Barcomb said, grinning back from inside the compartment.

  “Help us out of here,” Munday added. “This shit is cramped.”

  Barcomb doubled over in agony when he was pulled out of the compartment. He was bleeding bad.

  “Holy shit, bro,” Haws said. “What the fuck happened to you?”

  “Couple gunshots,” Barcomb replied, glancing at Munday. “Nothing a nice lie down won’t fix.”

  “We have to get you help,” Ash said. “Right fuckin’ now.”

  Barcomb said, “I’ll be fine, so stop your fuckin’ fussing.” He got to his feet and then fell back down. Haws caught him on the way. The rain was washing the blood away, but more kept coming.

  “If we don’t get him some help,” Ash said, “he won’t last the night.”

  “We’re fuckin’ miles away from any city,” Haws said.

  “We don’t even know where we are,” Munday chimed in.

  Ash rubbed her temple and thought. She could see the head of the fireman zombie in the corner of her eye. As she thought, she walked over to it, grabbed the axe and swung it down into the fireman’s head, neatly dividing its skull and brain in two, the latter sliding out onto the ground. The mouth slowed and then stopped moving with a surprised look on each half of the face.

  Ash turned and looked at the truck as everyone watched her.

  “Pocahontas knows where we are,” Ash said.

  Everyone looked at her, confused.

  “And there’s a house nearby. Torrento lives around here, right?”

  “He must,” Haws pondered, “But we can’t-”

  Barcomb slipped again into unconsciousness.

  “We have to,” Ash interrupted Haws. “We find Torrento’s house and we make some kind of deal. If he won’t make a deal, we take the place for ourselves. And Pocahontas will show us the way.”

  “What if she won’t?” Munday asked.

  Chapter 6: The House on the Side of the Hill

  Pocahontas slumped in the seat and cried.

  “We don’t have time for this,” Ash said.

  Ash, Haws and Pocahontas were crammed into the front of the truck. Haws was behind the wheel. Barcomb was unconscious on the bunk in the back while Munday sat on the edge beside him. The truck was still. Barcomb’s blood was dripping down onto the floor. Everyone could feel it warming the underside of their boots. He looked pale.

  “Which way?” Ash shouted.

  Pocahontas pointed down the left fork, then the right fork, then the left again before breaking down into more tears.

  “Come on!” Ash screamed.

  “We’ve been out here an hour now,” Munday said. “Barcomb doesn’t have time.” She looked at the blood pooling up around him on the bunk. Her hands were shaking. She couldn’t look anyone in the eye. The scratch on her cheek still stung and she was out of patience. If this man died, she would be responsible. She eyed Haws’s knife which he had placed in a holster in his belt. “Everyone get out. Leave her with me.”

  Ash and Haws turned and looked at her.

  “I’ll get her talking,” Munday said. She felt tears in her eyes. She felt her voice shaking.

  “No fuckin’ way,” Haws said.

  “Are you kidding?” Ash asked.

  Munday calmed. She looked at her boots.

  Ash sighed.

  “Sor-” Pocahontas said, drooling through her sharpened fangs. “Sorry.”

  Munday pulled Haws’s knife and drew it to Pocahontas’s neck in one motion, grabbing her hard by the hair with her other hand. Pocahontas screamed as the blade slowly separated the top layer of her skin and blood dribbled down.

  “Which fuckin’ way to the house?!” Munday screamed in her ear. “Which fuckin’ way?!”

  Pocahontas flapped her arms around and cried. Munday pressed the knife harder against her throat and drew more blood.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Ash shouted.

  Haws went to punch Munday, but she shouted, “Back off!” and pressed the knife harder, making Pocahontas scream.

  “This bitch is gonna tell us where this fucking house is or she’s gonna lose her fuckin’ head!” Munday screamed.

  “L-le-left!” Pocahontas screamed.
“It’s left! I remember now! I remember!”

  Everyone calmed. Munday held the knife to her throat. “You’re wrong,” she whispered in Pocahontas’s ear, “and I’m gonna take off your fucking head. I promise you that.”