by Jack Wallen
Next I impaled the head until the end of the steel pole nudged the ceiling of the skull with a hollow “thud”.
I stood and stared around, hoping to get a reaction from someone … anyone. None came. So I raised my fists high, flipped off the world, and returned to the house.
Trinity and the band stood around the room and hit me with a wall of applause.
“Dude, that fucking rocked,” shouted Dan.
“That was the single most Chuck Norris thing I’ve witnessed since the money shot was fired, my friend,” Burny called out.
Before anyone else could add their own special flavor of praise, I silenced them with raised hands. “And now, my sexy people, we fix a window. I must confess; I am not one with carpentry.” I glanced around the room to snatch eye contact with everyone in attendance. “I’m open to suggestions.”
Jay nodded. “That job is all mine. Well, me and Burny. We’ve done plenty of carpentry.”
“Yeah, man, I’m a veritable Jesus with a hammer. But I gotta get baked first. If I don’t burn one, I’ll smash my finger or put out an eye.”
“Whatever you gotta do, my man,” I said. “I have plenty of tools in the garage. I don’t happen to have a spare pane of glass on me.”
Jay started toward the garage, but turned back before he left the living room. “Once Jay’s sufficiently rocked, we’ll scavenge the neighborhood for the materials to patch that bad boy up.”
I looked over at Dan. He immediately spotted the concern etched in my face. He shook his head and smiled. “Don’t worry; those two bastards can take care of themselves. Once Burny is stoned, he’s unstoppable.”
eight | no metaphor, no problem
While Burny and Jay set about to dumpster dive for materials, I returned to command central, Trinity in tow. The music was about to wind down and I had shtick to spread.
“What are you going to do about your neighbors ─ or whoever the hell tossed the undead bobble head through your window?”
“I’d like to ignore it … but that’ll make things worse. The second the hills come alive with the sound of 40OzFist, the dead man’s mosh pit would return and our little community here would be pissed.”
Trinity wrapped her arms around my neck. “You’d get so much head … I might start getting jealous.”
“Ho, ho now.”
“Are you calling me a ho?” Trinity whispered in my ear.
“That all depends.”
“On what?” Trinity asked.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
The timing was perfect. Before Trinity could reply, the music ended and I leaned into my mic. “You’re listening to WZMB, Zombie Radio, your personal … I can’t say it. I. Just. Can’t. Say. It. Oh, who am I fooling, of course I can say it. Soundtrack … to the end of the world. Ladies and gentlecrunch, do you find me a tease? Does my voice make you want to spread yo’smelf out on the bed and touch-a, touch-a, touch me? Do you wanna be dirty? I know you do because it is past the kiddies bedtime and that means but one thing and one thing only ─ we can bring the dirty funk to Zombie Radio. So who wants some dirty funk?”
Trinity licked the back of my neck. A flood of hormones washed through my system and raced to my groin. I felt like a teenager again ─ hoping to get lucky for the first time. Prom. Boones Farm. A single condom tucked away in my Velcro wallet. It was my jam and I was gonna ride that rocket until it exploded in the midnight sky.
“I know there are plenty of you out there with a mile-wide freak flag raised to the stars. You’ve got your apocalyptic S&M gear greased up and are ready to take the dark hayride up to one hundred miles per hour. I want each and every one of you to know that freakdom is Zombie Radio approved. So do it, think it, wear it, spank it, smoke it, sing it, drink it, ink it, pierce it, and make dirty monkey love to it. As long as it is consensual and in the name of funk, what you do is righteous and kissed by the priest of dirty love himself. To help you bring out that inner freak, I’m gonna spin some of the dirtiest, funkiest, metal I can find. If you’ve not heard them, you are in for a big surprise. Get ready to drop a hot dime of pleasure as Crobot smacks you upside the nasty with “La Mano de Lucifer”. Oh hell yeah.”
Dan launched himself into the room. “Oh dude, these guys own that sound like a hippy owns it stank.”
Trinity laughed and said, “You certainly have a way with words, Dan.”
Dan stuck out his tongue and shook his head to the slow beat of the song. When his show ceased, he stepped in close and took a knee to address me. “I think I have the solution for our immediate problem.”
“I assume you mean the head through the window?”
Dan nodded. I continued. “I’m all ears.”
“Perfect. That sound you played …”
“The Obliterator?”
“Yeah, that one. It acts as a sort of zombie repellent right?”
I nodded.
“So what if we mount loudspeakers around the house and, every time we play, we pump the song of hate through those speakers to mask our sound. The noise will not only keep the neighbors from hearing the dread-metal, it’ll have the added effect of driving away the monsters. All we have to do … ”
“One problem,” I interrupted. “Where are we going to get the speakers?”
Dan stood. “That’s easy. We have a few extra back at the bar. And if we need more, I’m sure there are plenty to be found out there somewhere.”
Trinity placed a warm hand on my arm and said, “Sounds like a solid plan to me.”
“Let’s make it happen,” I agreed.
“Hell yeah. We’ll wait until Jay and Burny finish the window and then we’ll set out …”
I stood. “Hold up a second. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s almost six p.m. By the time they finish their job, it’ll be dark and late. Let’s get some sleep and set the defense system up in the morning.”
Dan nodded. “Cool. I was thinking we’d want it done right away, but yeah, having daylight on our side would be a plus.”
Trinity smacked Dan on the chest. “Besides, aren’t you the least bit tired?”
“I don’t sleep much.” Dan poked his head with a beefy finger. “Too much shit going on up here.”
The sound of clumsy footfalls spilled up from the stairs. I ran to check out the situation and was met by a huffing, sweaty Jay.
“Fuck, dudes,” he gasped. “We have a major problem.”
Dan grabbed Jay by the shoulders. “Calm down, man. What gives?”
“Fuckin’ Burny decided to light one up while we were out.” Jay paused and shot a glance toward the ceiling. “They must like the smell of chronic.”
“What in the hell are you saying, Jay?” I shouted.
“Burny is baked and trapped in a house, surrounded by zombies. There’s no way he’s getting out of this on his own.”
“Let’s go,” Dan insisted.
I turned and quickly dragged a ready-made playlist into the queue. I didn’t give a shit what songs it held ─ there was no time.
We raced down the stairs, grabbed whatever weaponry was readily available, and followed Jay out the front door.
“This way,” he raised a long arm above his head and pointed before unleashing a burst of speed I didn’t expect. Every one of the band caught up, leaving me sucking wind a few lengths behind.
Trinity fell in stride with me and, without skipping a breath, said, “You okay, darling?”
“I am now.”
“Don’t worry; I won’t let anything hurt my boyfriend.”
That was a multi-layered fuck sandwich I wasn’t sure if or how I could swallow. First and foremost ─ when did I become her boyfriend? Second, was it that apparent I sucked at undead combat? It was the latter that really bothered me. The former wasn’t so bad. I could be a boyfriend ─ if that term was actually applicable in the apocalypse.
There was no time to ponder minutia of romance in a post-apocalyptic world. There was only time for battle.
We came upon the midnight dreary scene. The house was small … the army of the damned was not.
“Son of a bitch,” I whispered. “There must be a hundred of those fuckers. How in the hell are we supposed to …”
I didn’t get another word off, before Dan, Sean, Jay, and Doug dove in with weapons flying. Trinity stood near me and let her outrageous arrows sling toward the fray.
“Stay behind me,” shouted Trinity as she let another fly.
My hand tightened around the grip of the pike I’d brought along for the ride. Madness dug is fierce tendrils into my brain and forced me into action. “Sorry, babe, I can’t stand idly by and watch those men fight alone.”
I rushed into the crowed and lowered Mr. Pointy toward the first pale head to come in sight. The sharpened tip pierced the skull with a crack and the moaner dropped like a bag of cheese curds.
Milwaukee’s finest.
With a quick jerk, the weapon came free from the rotten meat and I lashed out again. This time I missed. From my right, a machete dropped into the picture. Dan’s booming voice shouted, “Thrill ya, kill ya, mother fucker.” The blade drove deep into the skull Mr. Pointy had just missed. The zombie dropped as if it were turned off.
“A little help here!” The shout was Doug. He was surrounded.
Just as Dan and I turned to rush the mob, an arrow pierced a moaner’s skull to drop the beast.
Dan lunged forward and grabbed another by the head. “Don’t fuck with my boys,” he shouted before he attempted to twist the head from the dead bastard’s neck.
“That only works in the movies, dumb ass,” shouted Trinity as she let another arrow loose.
She missed. Dan laughed and snapped the neck of the zombie.
“Doesn’t have to come off ─ so long as it severs the spine.” Dan laughed as the moaner fell, lifeless, from his grip. As he busied himself flipping Trinity off, another moaner grabbed Dan’s head with it’s cold dead hands.
“Dan,” Jay shouted before he bull rushed the zombie. All three dropped ─ Jay on top of Dan on top of the zombie. It was a Three Stooges moment if I’d ever seen one.
The remaining horde turned on the dog pile and started shambling toward them.
“Get the fuck up!” I shouted.
Just as the zombie flash mob was about to converge, Dan and Jay managed to wriggle their way out of the flesh pretzel and stand.
“I have an idea,” I called to the group. “Run.”
“No fuckin’ way, man. We save our brother!” shouted Dan.
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” I replied. “We take off and draw this crowd away from the house so Burny can escape. There’s too many of them … this is our only chance.”
“Son of a bitch, that’s brilliant,” agreed Dan. “40OzFist, retreat!”
We sped off at a pace that ensured our undead posse didn’t get left behind, but fast enough to stay out of harm’s way.
I dared a glance back to the shambling horde. “It’s working.” I looked over at Jay and said, “In a few blocks, I want you to peel off, rush back to the house, and pull Burny out. We’ll meet you back at my place. And make sure the man doesn’t stop to light up another fattie.”
Jay nodded.
After a couple of blocks, I gave Jay a smack on the shoulder and pointed down a side street. He got the hint and sprinted off. I tossed a glance over my shoulder to make sure none of the moaners followed him.
“Hell yeah,” I cried out. “That’s how a plan should work.”
“What do we do now?” asked Trinity.
I shot her a glance. “Now, we run like we stole it.”
Our pace kicked up a notch until the chorus of moans started to fade. I rushed out in front of the group and indicated for them to slow. When I managed to look back, the horde was stopped in the middle of the street.
Our group halted and turned to face the zombies.
“What are they doing?” whispered Dan.
“They’ve lost track of us,” I spoke under my breath. “They’ll most likely remain there until something draws their attention.
We fell silent and watched. The collection of undead men and woman swayed in place. The sound of a collective moan softly drifted within range.
“This is all so wrong,” said Sean.
“Yeah, that’s kind of old news,” I replied.
“No, I mean them.” Sean pointed. “Remember, back in the day, when the best apocalyptic films or books used zombies as a metaphor for consumerism?”
“Or corporate America,” replied Dan.
“Yeah,” Sean continued. “This is just … they’re just dead people. It’s like this whole fucking thing means nothing more than death. We were promised jetpacks.”
He was right. Even I spent a lot of on-air time trying to dig up the deeper meaning of the Mengele Virus and its hateful effects. In the end, it was nothing more than a perversion of human nature.
And in the thinking, I struck gold. The metaphor wasn’t in the weapon or the target, but the Zero Day Collective. They represented everything that was broken in our psyche. They were at the center of this rotting nightmare and served as the metaphor for everything that had gone sour.
I turned to leave. “Let’s get back to the house. We need to be there when Jay and Burny show up.”
“You sure you’re okay leaving those bastards … alive?” asked Trinity.
“At this point, our survival is more important than their destruction. Let’s regroup and come up with a plan. The undead will still be here. They’re always here.”
nine | a proposal of sorts
“You’re listening to WZMB, Zombie Radio, your personal soundtrack, to the end of the world. That was, Bad Brains and “I Against I”. Funny, the name of that song, as it brings to mind the bible of the new world order. That’s right; I’m talking about the diary of the madman who single-handedly brought to light the truth. I Zombie I. Remember it? I reread a passage from it every day just to remind myself that not only am I alive, but that I have a responsibility to help bring us all together in the fight against those that unleashed this beast.”
I felt Trinity’s hand caress the back of my neck. The touch filled me with a much needed peace.
“I … Zombie … I. God, if feels like it was a decade ago that I first opened that journal to see the truth of truths before my eyes. Yet somehow, I remember it so well. The first flakes of gray ash falling, the first moment I heard that god-awful moan. The first time I shoved a spike through the skull of a zombie.”
I sighed.
“Zombie,” I stretched the word out until it no longer made sense. “Fiction and nonfiction are no longer genres separated by stacks of bookshelves or categories within the Netflix browser. Now? Everything is all gray area … sickening, blue-veined, gray area. Sometimes I just want to wail into my microphone and hope the Zero Day Collective has their ears pressed tight against a massive array speakers so that the sheer power of my voice is enough to render them no longer among the living. But that doesn’t happen. Why? Because I am alive and as long as my heart beats and my mouth is capable of forming intelligible words, I will use these airwaves as a means to a moral and truthful end. My darlings, I wish to dedicate this next song to every living human out there ready to take up arms and go against the machine of destruction as an army of one … an “Army Of Me”. Sing it, Bjork.”
I wanted to peel off my headphones and toss them across the room. Trinity sensed my building rage and kissed the top of my head. It was an inexplicable gesture, given the moment, but the effect was profound.
I melted.
For a brief second, I was a little boy again and my mom was tucking me back into bed after a horrific nightmare. My heartbeat slowed, my breath deepened, my soul was soothed.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Trinity replied.
I spun in my chair. “Why are you so wonderful to me?”
She smiled and closed her eyes.
“The only way I can answer that is by requesting a song.” Trinity opened her eyes. “DJ, would you play “The Road”, by In This Moment, for me?”
And like that, everything came together. My post-apocalyptic life’s work justified in a single song title. I smiled and nodded. “I would be honored.”
Trinity bent down and kissed me deeply. When our lips separated, the sensation lingered. I could feel the touch of her mouth, the scent of her flesh, even as the saliva cooled on my tongue.
We stared at one another, without saying a word. The exchange went on until my ears were greeted with dead air. Slowly a smile crept across my lips. When she returned the gesture, I spun in my chair, returned the headphones to my head, and spoke.
“Life. That is what this is all about. Remaining connected to one another, to ourselves, to our past, present, and future. My sweet people, if you can hold onto that which gives you meaning, you will survive. You will fight your way through this sausage-fest of a hell we’re all living and come out much improved. As you fight, I promise to be by your side at all times. I will suckle the teet of caffeine until the bags under my eyes morph into full-blown luggage to make sure you have a voice to guide you through the landscape of this foul nightmare. Funny thing, that word life ─ we always assume it’s a promise for what is to come. The truth, however, is a bowl of piss-filled breakfast cereal we don’t want to swallow. Nothing is given now. Not life … not death. We are lost, but we are not hopeless. Look around you. Surely there is someone you can reach out to, embrace and protect. Even if that becomes your one objective, let it consume you and drive you from one moment to the next until we all finally converge on this crazy ass ride called life.”
Trinity walked around my desk until she stood facing me. She smiled.
“Somewhere, my dear nation, there is a road we must all travel. No matter how far or dark that road is, you must find your way. Those thoughts may be the only thing to pull you through, but know I would sacrifice my dying breath …” I glanced up at Trinity and, after a breath, said, “for you.”