I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

“How the fuck would I know?”

  “Bang, bang…you’re dead,” Touque whispered into the man’s ear.

  “I swear to God, I have no idea. We only ever entered through those doors.”

  Todd Flash stepped away from the group. “I’ll go check the roof.”

  Touque turned to Todd. “Wait. We can’t be sure…”

  Touque’s voice fell short as Todd raced off, back around to the side of the building.

  Billy turned to Max. “Follow him. Make sure he doesn’t do anything…Flashy.”

  Max nodded and raced off into the darkness.

  “Are you sure that was a good idea?” Tom asked. “We’re easily outnumbered now.”

  A distant, haunting moan punched Tom’s point home. The living quintet fell silent as the whole undead chorus rose again.

  The sound of slapping footfalls broke the silence of the living. Todd’s voice quickly followed. “There’s a back door; it’s locked. We also found a ladder that leads to the roof, but there’s no way in from there.”

  Max appeared, sucking wind as if he’d been overcome by an epic case of bronchitis. “Fuck me square in the eye, man. How’d a rhythm guitarist get so fast?”

  “A lifetime of chasing chicks, my friend,” Todd answered with a wicked grin.

  “And failing,” Billy added in jest.

  “Well, boys, looks like we crash the party from the front,” Touque announced, and forced his weapon back into the fleshy head of the goon. “Walk.”

  Slowly, the gang approached the entrance, their cautious steps punctuated with the moans of the damned. When they reached their destination, Touque gestured for Billy to open the door.

  Touque nudged the stranger through and stepped in close behind him. “Say a word, and it will be your last,” Touque whispered in the man’s ear.

  Billy was the last to enter. He eased the door to silent closure and caught up with the group.

  “Lead us to him,” Touque said under his breath. The goon nodded and continued moving forward.

  A set of double doors awaited them. Touque once again nodded to Billy, who immediately wrapped his fingers around the right side door. Touque held up his hand to halt the entrance. As they stood silent, the sound of Kitty’s muffled voice spilled through the cracks and into the longing ears of her friends.

  Billy tensed.

  Touque sensed the shift in emotion and slowly shook his head. The second Billy’s breath eased, Touque raised his free hand and counted down from…

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  Billy jerked the door open, and Touque pushed the goon through.

  “Mud!” the man shouted as he tumbled to the aisle floor.

  “Billy!” Kitty cried out.

  Mud turned on his heels, took in a deep breath, and hissed, “Touque. We meet again.”

  “The last time I spied your hideous face, I tried to pretend it wasn’t you,” Touque spat. “I’d rather face down an army of zombies than look you in the eye.”

  Touque stepped over the goon, gun pointing directly at Mud’s chest. Billy landed a knee into the small of the goon’s back and craned one of his arms into a bone-cracking position. The man squealed in pain.

  Mud rushed to the cage containing Kitty. “One more step, and I’ll unlock these brakes. You don’t want to know what happens if…”

  Without a sound of warning, Touque pulled the trigger. A single bullet pierced the flesh and bone of Mud’s right knee.

  Mud dropped, grabbing his knee and howling in pain. As he did, he snaked his hand to the cage brake control and released the mechanism. He wailed, “What the fuck did you do, Touque? Goddamn it. We were partners, you son of a bitch.”

  Touque approached Mud, leaned down, and pressed the barrel of the pistol into the wailing man’s wound. “I don’t know you. Other than your unprovoked assault on me the other night, I’ve never seen you.”

  Mud laughed through the pain. “You’ve gone soft in the brain, old man. We ran supplies for the same…”

  Touque slammed the handle of the gun down on Mud’s forehead, pulled a set of keys from the prone man’s belt, and glanced up at Billy. “Get her out of there and lock this son of a bitch inside.”

  Billy snatched the keys from Touque and went through the ring to find a match for the lock. As he worked, the chained Moaners swatted at Billy, missing him by inches. The cage shifted until the stage left Moaner was able to snatch up a handful of Kitty’s long, brown hair. The monster gave a great tug on the locks of love and the cage rolled nearer.

  “Hurry, Billy!” Kitty squealed.

  “I’m going as fast as…” Before Billy could finish his sentence, the click of the lock sounded and the door swung open.

  The Moaner slapped a free hand downward, his fingers catching the supraorbital ridge above Kitty’s eyes. Between the tangled hair and the Moaner’s bowling ball grip, Kitty was trapped. She screamed in panic; the veins in her neck bubbled to the surface as her system was flooded with adrenaline-laced panic.

  “Touque!” Billy screamed.

  Touque glanced up and immediately understood Billy’s demand. He brought the weapon to bear on the zombie about to dine on Kitty’s most inner secrets and unleashed the beast from its fetid flesh shell.

  The second the Moaner dropped, Kitty leaped out of the cage and into Billy’s waiting arms. Billy looked back at his fellow bandmates and barked, “Get that bastard inside the cage.”

  Tom Mooner scooped up Mud and tossed him into the cage like a sack of soiled laundry. Mud’s head cracked against one of the iron bars; his body fell limp and motionless.

  Kitty landed a hot, wet kiss on Billy’s lips before he broke away from her and approached the cage. He pushed the cage within reach of the second Moaner and, one by one, Billy locked the wheels of the cage. “When that bastard wakes up, he’s going to cry like a little girl.”

  Kitty slugged Billy in the neck. “Since when did crying like a girl indicate weakness? I’ll cry like a girl and beat your ass at the same time.”

  Billy shrank away from Kitty, his arms crossed in front of his head.

  “Girls!” Touque called out. “You’re both pretty.”

  Max drew in next to Touque. “So what are we going to do with Cagey McDouche?”

  Touque clasped his hands behind his head and harrumphed. “I’m fairly certain that Moaner will do worse things than we could. I say we leave Mud’s destiny in the hands of the beast.”

  Max nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  “However, because I tend to lean a bit toward the paranoid side of things…” Touque shot his upturned palm to Billy. “Keys, please.”

  Billy handed the keys over. Touque inserted the correct key into cage lock and gave it a quick turn. The sound of the locking mechanism sealing the fate of Mud seemed to echo on into some other plane of existence…one free of guilt and moral compass.

  “So that’s it?” Tom asked with incredulity.

  The second the words spilled from between his lips, the celebration was sucked from the group.

  Billy turned to the bass player. “How many times have we told you, Schleprock? Don’t jinx us!”

  “What’d I do?” Tom lofted the question out to the gang. Everyone instantly turned to him, their mouths agape and eyes wide. Tom’s arms slapped his thighs and his chin slammed into his chest. “Fuck,” Tom whispered…deflated.

  “Did I miss something?” Max asked Billy.

  Billy answered, “Tom has this uncanny ability to shower us with bad luck when he opens his mouth. He…”

  The remainder of the sentence dangled in silence, as it was cut short by a chorus of moans.

  “The door,” Tom hissed.

  Touque turned to Tom. “Did you close the entryway, Tom?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. We were all in such a hurry, I just pulled it open and raced through. If it stayed open, it wasn’t my…”

  “I closed the damn thing,” Billy hissed. “How in the fuck
did it…”

  Before Billy could finish his question, the first of the Moaners entered the room. The beast looked like it’d been exhumed from a long-forgotten grave. Flesh hung from meat like tattered cloth. Half of the thing’s neck was missing, and it hobbled on a footless left leg.

  “Jesus fucking H. Christ.” Billy barely managed to choke out his words. “The smell!”

  The room was filled with the stench of rotten eggs and putrefaction.

  Touque raised his arms to an outstretched position and addressed the group. “On the off chance I am correct, no one light a cigarette.”

  “Why not?” Todd shouted over the madness.

  Touque placed himself between the band the zombies. “Have you ever lit up one of your own farts, boy?”

  “Oh, fuck!” Todd cried out. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  “No, Mr. Flash, I only wish I were. That smell could be the apocalyptic take on silent but deadly.”

  “What do we do, Touque?” Kitty asked.

  “Run!” Touque screamed.

  The gang instinctively scattered to the four corners of the room. The small horde of zombies were temporarily distracted by the scrambling meat sacks, which gave them enough time to sprint for the door.

  Touque was the last through the exit. He pulled the doors shut and raced off toward the van. He caught up and hopped into his well-earned shotgun position. He pointed forward and said, “Pull up to the entrance.” Touque then turned to the back of the van. “Someone find me a lug wrench, a crowbar, or anything strong and tubular.”

  Tom chuckled.

  “You wish, Mooner,” Billy mocked.

  “Will this work?” Kitty handed Touque a bright yellow pry bar.

  “Perfect, my dear.”

  Billy punched the gas, and the rear wheels of the van squealed their protest into the bleak night. When the van reached its destination, Billy slammed on the brakes.

  Touque hopped out, raced to the entrance of the theatre, and forced the pry bar between the handles of the doors. He pulled with all his might…the doors didn’t budge.

  Satisfied that neither Mud nor the Romero-esque ghouls weren’t going anywhere...Touque turned and made his way back to the van…his stride calm and smooth.

  “Hell yeah, Touque. You are a fucking Boy Scout.” Billy raised a devil horn salute.

  “Always prepared, bitches.” Touque returned the gesture.

  The van erupted with the sound of laughter as it drove off into the night.

  fourteen | air drums and zomburgers

  Fridays were always a special time at the Last Casket. Even in a world where daily routine had been boiled down to the simple act of survival, it was safe to assume the last day of the week was always about one thing and one thing only.

  “Party!” Billy shouted as he walked into the kitchen, beers in each hand. Through the swinging doors, the crowd in the bar could be heard. Touque had manned the bar long enough to get the night started and then retreated to the kitchen, where he could feed and toast his dear friends.

  “Damn, I love that sound!” Kitty exclaimed.

  “The soundtrack of life,” Touque replied.

  Billy offered one long-necked drink over to Kitty, who planted a welcoming kiss on his lips and then took a generous pull of booze from the bottle.

  Touque stood at the stove, flipping meat. No matter the source, the sizzle and odor emanating from the grill was intoxicating to all within range.

  Max leaned in beside him, staring and sniffing. “You know…meat is murder.”

  Touque pressed a patty with his heavy-duty spatula. “Unless it murders you first, Morrissey.”

  Max patted Touque on the back. “I like you, Mr. Touque.”

  “The feeling, Mr. Angst, is quite mutual. But then…a friend of Kitty’s is a friend of mine.”

  Max fingered one of the patties on the grill. “You sure that shit is safe?”

  Touque slapped away Max’s offending digit with his spatula. “One hundred percent, Mr. Angst. That microwave we pilfered kills the virus in the same way it’d kill salmonella, botulism, or the hep.”

  Max opened his mouth to interrupt. Touque stopped him short with a raised hand.

  “I know what you’re thinking…microwaves cannot kill viruses. All things being equal, that would be an absolute bit of fact. However, all things are most certainly not equal here. First and foremost, that is not a standard microwave and—more importantly—I have made a few modifications to boost its power. You see, what actually kills the virus is two-fold. The first bit is that the flesh must have been separated from the nervous system—the brain. Second is the heat…and that comes in two stages—the microwave and then the grill. The molecules that comprise the Mengele virus cannot withstand that level of radiation combined with the intense heat. So long as this ground Chuck—if that was the gent’s name—gets blasted for at least one hundred and twenty seconds by that overclocked, nuclear toaster oven, this meat is as safe as cow, pig, or Soylent Green.”

  “Dude, we’ve got to find a copy of that film!” Todd said to Tom. “That would be bad-ass to show on the screen.”

  Tom leaned in from behind and nodded. “Hell yeah, Todd. I like the way you think.”

  “Speaking of which,” Kitty started. “We have anything special planned for tonight’s show?”

  “You mean other than to rock like every motherfucker’s watching?” Todd Flash did his absolute worst air guitar.

  Billy slapped Todd in the chest. “Dude, how many times have I told you? No air guitar.”

  “Fine,” Todd said, and then broke out his best air drumming.

  Max sidled up beside Todd and said, “No, no, Flash; you’re doing it all wrong. Hit the snare with your left hand and the high hat with your right.”

  Todd tossed an imaginary stick into the air and, when he caught the ghost stick, he switched positions and started drumming in a truer fashion. While he slapped at the air, Todd looked to Kitty and smiled. “Actually, little Miss Rowr, Tom and I do have something quite special planned for the evening.”

  Touque handed a zomburger to Kitty. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Touque, you know if I were ignorant as to the source of your meat, I’d wrap my fingers around that bad boy and go all Carl’s Jr. on it.”

  Touque tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand.”

  Billy grabbed the burger and slowly lifted it to his mouth. “Let me demonstrate.” Before anyone could protest, Billy placed his puckered lips against the meat and gyrated his hips.

  “Oh, God,” Todd spoke through a mocked vomit. “Someone please gouge out my eyes. No…that won’t do it. You’re just going to have to kill me. Kill me now.”

  Billy continued his meal of shame. He opened his mouth wide and shoved the burger in deep. As he bit down, he let his lips linger over the bun a bit too long.

  “Yes, yes…I believe I’ve seen enough for a few lifetimes,” Touque offered as he covered his eyes.

  Kitty was amused, her laughter encouraging Billy on. He finally pulled the burger from his mouth and then ran a finger around his lips to wipe away the sauce and juice. Finally, for an unforgettable curtain call, he jammed his finger into his mouth and wrapped his lips tight on the third knuckle.

  “Oh, God, it’s happening,” Tom cried out, and bent over.

  Ever so slowly, Billy retracted his finger…his lips pleading for it not to exit.

  In an explosion of pure joy, Kitty squealed and clapped.

  Billy bowed. The rest of the men in the room were bent at the waist…for a very different reason.

  “A piece of me just died,” Todd hissed.

  Max unleashed a wall of laughter. “Oh, holy hell…that was the best thing I’ve seen in years.”

  “Bat, you are one messed-up bastard,” Tom said with feigned disgust. “I love ya anyway.”

  Touque glanced at his watch. “Well, gang, looks like it’s time for you to do your thing.”

  Todd raced to the d
oor and blocked the exit. “Hold up. Tom and I put together a little movie we were hoping to play before the set. If you guys don’t mind?”

  The band glanced between one another until all eyes were on Kitty. She smiled and offered the slightest nod.

  “Of course, Todd. Roll your masterpiece.”

  “Hell yeah!” Todd squealed and exited the room.

  Kitty, Billy, Tom, Max, and Touque followed Todd into the bar and stood in the periphery. Without a word, Todd dimmed the lights and hit play on the laptop.

  The screen on the back wall of the stage came to life with the Kitty In A Casket logo. The crowd unleashed a sonic boom of applause that sent the logo fading into darkness. Next on the screen was a close-up of Kitty. She smiled and waved; her eyes offered a pre-apocalyptic twinkle that had since faded. The camera panned out to reveal the whole band standing before the Kitty Mobile. In Max’s place was Mike Machine, flipping off the camera and getting slugged by Billy.

  The camera drew in close to Kitty. An unfamiliar, disembodied voice asked a simple question.

  “What are you most looking forward to on this tour, Kitty?”

  Kitty grinned and batted her overlong eyelashes. “Helping people, all over the world, to forget their lives, even if only for a moment. If we pull that off, we’re doing our jobs.”

  The camera panned over to Billy. “What about you, Billy the Bat? What are you most looking forward to?”

  Billy tossed a sidelong look at Kitty and, with a wicked grin, said, “Groupies!”

  Kitty punched Billy in the shoulder. The scene erupted into bouts of uncontrollable laughter and faded to black.

  The screen came back to life, bouncing between cameos of the band in various locales…until it landed on that fateful night when the Kitty Mobile broke down and the band made first contact with the undead. The crowd booed and hissed at the sight of Moaners.

  Popcorn and epithets were sent flying at the screen, fueled with anger and spite. Touque thought he’d have to hit the lights and kill the fun, until the scene shifted to the Casket.

  The mood of the crowd instantly swayed back to joy.

  Touque released a sigh. Kitty wrapped her hands around his arm and leaned her head into his shoulder. Touque kissed Kitty on top of the head…her every muscle relaxed.