Undead Worlds 2: A Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Anthology

by Authors, Various

  I’m a finish dac cookie dough ice cream in da freeza while it still good!

  Finally, D spoke after a long bout of utter silence. “So… we just gonna sit here?”

  Seemingly absentmindedly, Smokes brushed him off. “Waitin’, mufucka.”

  The Latino nearly felt insulted. He would’ve compared it to someone speaking on one of those damn bluetooth headsets. As far as you know, you’re the only other person in the bathroom. When you respond to whatever he said, the jackass rolls his eyes, turns to you, and violently jams a finger to the thing in his ear. Smokes might not have done that exactly, but it felt like he was having a conversation with someone else.

  After another eternity of complete quiet, D stood up. “Can I go check on my mamacita?” Do I really gotta ask permission?

  Defiantly moving to the door, he made an addition. “Oh, and I got a pistola at my crib...”

  Pausing to wait for acceptance or confirmation from the other end of the phone that he wasn’t on, Smokes finally replied. “Naw, cuz. We gots to sleep here.”

  “But–“

  “Homey... Who saved yo ass?”

  In response, D hung his head and grunted. Am I really doing what he says just because the door was unlocked?

  The Oracle’s smile was nearly audible. “Damn straight, dawg. Now, we stay here till da mornin’.”

  Diego had to question his new friend. “Where we sleeping?”

  Snorting out a laugh, Smokes responded. “I’m a go to bed. Yo ass sleepin’ on da couch. Dis ain’t no fuckin’ sleep ova!” He threw his new friend a blanket and turned, disappearing into the darkness.

  Lifting his hand to check his digital wristwatch, D shouted after Smokes. “But it ain’t even that late!”

  Sighing, The Oracle spoke. “Don’t cur, foo. You gonna be glad fo da rest when tomorra get here.”

  Actually, D could think of nothing better to do. No electricity cut their options of entertainment down. “Fine, ese. But you better be up bright and early.”

  He simply nodded as he walked into the other room. “Fo sho, cuz.”

  When morning came Diego opened his eyes to see Smokes sitting in the recliner with his fingers steepled, staring at him. Overall, the scene seemed strange to D. Fucking creepy Smokes was watching me sleep for Dios knows how long!

  Jumping up, the first thing Diego did was go to unbolt the door. “Now I can go?” The fuck is wrong with me?

  The Oracle nodded. “Yo prerogative, homey. I be here when you get back.”

  Well, at least he thinks I’m coming back. Alive, hopefully. D stopped as he unbolted the locks. “You better be waiting, ready to unlock the door when I come knocking.”

  The large black man scoffed. “Course, wheat bread.”

  “Wheat bread, Really?”

  Smokes shrugged in the early morning sunlight. “Fittin’.” The moniker just seems to work. And The Oracle had a strange feeling he would be using a similar designation for another companion in the near future.

  In acceptance and agreement with the new nickname, D nodded once before cracking open the door. Deciding to stop by his apartment to grab his gat before going down to check on Luisa, he listened for any movement. Hearing nothing, he stepped out the door and slowly closed it behind him. Here goes!

  CHAPTER 3

  Nobody’s Home

  Diego Diego started down the carpeted hall, in a silence that was almost loud. It was unexplainably disturbing to move through an apartment building now seemingly inhabited by no one. Well, other than him and Smokes.

  Every single door on this level was closed. He certainly wasn’t going to knock or jiggle knobs to see if any were open. Those Loco meth heads could be inside!

  Random splatters of what he was pretty sure was shit accented the beige carpet. Not even sniffing, D immediately picked up on the indescribably horrible smell. The putrid aroma was obviously coming from the black, wet spots peppering the hallway. Dark and watery, it looked like a giant bird had been through there.

  Glancing to the spot where Mrs. Ramsey had fallen the day before sent chills up his spine. What looked like chunky motor oil had saturated the carpet, mingling with splotches of red. This nightmarish scene was encircled by a few scattered, gnawed clean bones. Did those fucking crazies really eat the old lady down to nothing? The thought was disgusting, but the scene appeared to indicate that must be the truth.

  There hadn’t been time to notice if those naked people had been shitting out what looked like baby diarrhea, but the drying skid marks surrounding the bones was clear indication they created this filth. D could’ve swore there was something on the news about people infected with that monkey virus “having no bowel control” or some shit. These crazies must have been sick with that same thing! How did they make it all the way up to Guntersville without anybody knowing? And if it was them, now what? Diego had never been much of one for television, but he was now wishing he had paid a little closer attention to some of the news channels.

  What if there are loonies in my place? I ain’t got nothing to fight them off with! Just as he thought this, he noticed a folded automatic stiletto lying in a puddle of black slime. Supposing it was Dimitrius’s forgotten blade, he bent over to pick it up, turning his head as his hand came into contact with the sloppy stain. Well, better to have shitty fingers than wind up like my poor old neighbor!

  Gently cracking his apartment door, he eased himself into the dead quiet unit. Thankfully, nothing moved. Was he alone? Fuck if I’m calling out! Making his way down the dark hallway to the bedroom, he pulled the knife from his pocket, getting ready for a brawl.

  If one of those sick nuts came at me, what the fuck was this little thing gonna do? Yeah, it might eventually bleed out, but not before I was torn apart! Oh well, if it survives, it’ll always remember that it fucked with Diego Diego.

  No longer would he think of the infected as people. From now on, D decided, he would take the wise words of his new companion to heart. People that eat other people ain’t people no more!

  Nightmarish images filled his mind. He imagined one of the infected jumping out of the bathroom door, tackling him. Though multiple stab wounds would be inflicted on his attacker, it wouldn’t stop the crazy! Hearing one’s own neck being bitten into would be the most terrible sound imaginable. Popping and crunching of ligaments being pulled away and arteries being ruptured would be horrific. He might be able to stand and fight, even kill the psycho, but pain and blood loss would soon tire him. Diego would sink to the floor, knowing he was beaten. Eventually, the Cuban-American would fade away into nothingness.

  Upon reaching the nightstand in one piece, he smiled. What waited in the top drawer would keep him and his new friend alive. There was only one full magazine, but just the sight of such a famous weapon would surely strike fear into anyone... or anything, no matter how naked and Loco it was. The MAC 10 would scare the shit out of the shitting freaks!

  Going down the flight of stairs, D was thankful Luisa lived only one floor down. Constructed strangely, each floor was only accessible from opposite ends. This meant to get from the ground floor to the next level above; one would have to go all the way to the end of the hall. To reach the next story, passing every single door to get to the other end would be required. Though he had grown accustomed to the weird engineering, it was a hassle to get from the ground to his apartment on the third floor in a hurry. Fucking government contractors! Maybe it was a good thing during this situation; those crazies had farther to travel to get to him.

  Crazies... Plague victims... What was it they called them on the news? “Peevies?” He would do his best to save Luisa from the peevies.

  Nearly running from the stairwell to the closed door leading to the hallway, all he wanted was to see his woman. She’s okay, just waiting for me. They didn’t eat her. Her madre’s at work. We can just use her cell phone to call the policia to come lock up the locos. Everything will be back to normal by tomorrow. Wait, today’s already tomorrow! Does that mean
she came home yesterday? Did she look for me? Is she at home now? I bet she’s worried. Trying to convince himself, the Latino just couldn’t shake the terrible feeling in his gut.

  He wanted to save his chica, but he had to come to a stop at the exit from the stairs. There’s no saving anybody if I get eat! His mind raced. What do I do even after I rescue her from the peevies? Back upstairs with Smokes!

  Cracking the door, he heard no charging from the shitting, maniac peevies. He listened before finally peeking out the cracked doorway. Nothing!

  Groaning and creaking all the way, D eased the door open to stand in a hallway bathed in complete blackness. Well, a little light did show from under the cracks of some of the doors. Thank Dios for that, at least!

  Now, I have to make my way to my señorita’s casa. It sucks that she lives halfway down the hall. Could be worse. Could be all the way at the other end! Good thing all the doors between here and there are closed. Diego flipped out his blade, trying to be as ready as possible.

  Luckily, no hostile’s moved on him. A pin drop would have made him shit himself as he reached the intended door. He gently turned the knob, hoping against all hope. Shit, locked!

  In case of emergency, he thankfully always kept a bobby pin in his pocket. Lifting it from his pocket, he began the tedious process of breaking and entering. It’s bueno, he supposed, Louisa don’t know what I used to do.

  Quietly shutting the door behind him, he was immediately sprang upon by what he called ”Sonja’s Diablos.” A gaggle of Louisa’s madre’s Chihuahuas, pugs, terriers, and even one English bulldog threw themselves at D. Barking, panting, and yipping amazingly didn’t seem to be drawing the peevies. Locking the door behind me would be a good idea.

  He tried to give each of the demonias enough attention that they would at least allow him to move. Finally, he got ahead of the pack and started down the short hall in the back of the apartment to Louisa’s room. The door to the room was standing wide open, but she wasn’t in it. He briefly panicked until he thought about the whole scene. The door was locked, none of the dogs appeared any more upset than usual, and there was none of that black shit anywhere. Maybe she just went out or is looking for me and will be back soon.

  Do I wait here for her? Should I go back to Smokes? He might get worried. Don’t want his fat ass coming after me. There’s no way he could out run one of the fuckers. Well, at least that would give them a target besides me, he chuckled quietly to himself.

  Racking his brain for an answer on what to do, his eyes grew wide when he heard something he knew couldn’t be the demonias. Diego stopped in place and lifted the gat from his waistband. Heavy knocking came from the apartment’s front door. Louisa?

  CHAPTER 4

  Blessed Assurance

  Looking through the peephole, he was surprised to see Smokes standing there casually, completely unguarded; his black friend stood ready for nothing. Diego lowered the muzzle of his pistola. Blinking, he continued to stare out the aperture.

  Narrowing his eyes and putting his hands on his hips, Smokes screeched in an entirely too loud volume. “Da hell you starin’ at, mufucka? Get yo ass to gettin’!”

  Without further delay, D swung open the door, wrapped his fist in Smokes’s collar, and tried to yank him inside. Smokes didn’t budge when pulled but proceeded to casually walk in and D closed the door behind him. “The fuck wrong with you? Be quiet, dumbass. You trying to get us killed? Don’t want to let them know where we are!” he whispered harshly.

  Refusing to lower his volume, Smokes continued screeching. “Ain’t shit to worry bout, wheat bread. Mon, foo.”

  The Oracle brushed down his shirt and stepped to the door. Turning the knob, he gave a command. “Sko, mufucka!”

  D planted his feet. “If they ain’t in the building, what makes you think they won’t be outside?”

  Snorting, Smokes turned. “Dey ain’t gonna be in da sunlight. Trust me. We got dis, cuz!”

  “Why the hell you think that?”

  In answer, The Oracle only walked out the door. Turning to go downstairs, D waited for him to turn around, admit he was wrong, confess he was afraid of the dark, and beg forgiveness. Should I really go? What if Luisa comes back? Why am I willing to go with him?

  Automatic dog feeders, lots of water, the dogs will be okay for a while. Guess I’m really doing this. Pulling the chain from around his neck that sported a medallion emblazoned with the name of his lover, he looped it over the doorknob in a position so the door wouldn’t latch. Not bothering to lower his own volume, the Latino hollered after his compatriot. “Wait up, homes!”

  Not understanding why, D hesitantly followed Smokes, choosing to walk past every doorway on the first floor and toward the front entrance of the building. It was beyond the Latino why he didn’t just use the emergency exit in the final stairwell. But finally, their exit from the complex was looking like it was going to be successful.

  Before exiting the complex, D glanced up at the mailboxes, inset into the wall. In the section for the third floor... There! Ramsey... Jacinda so that is...was.... Her name. Sorry, Jacinda.

  Surprising, to Diego, they didn’t meet a single individual or even a peevie on their trek. After a short walk they were now standing at the corner of Taco Bell and US Highway 431. D looked up and down the hi-way and had to question. “The fuck everybody at, ese?”

  “Dey’s gone or dey’s blue.” Smokes stated flatly.

  This was shocking. The Oracle couldn’t remember the last time he walked even a quarter of this distance. Panting and sweating were the results of just walking from his apartment to the front door of his building. Barely retaining consciousness and vomiting always came from walking just a few hundred yards. Now though, Smokes wasn’t even winded

  Though The Oracle noticed, it slipped by his new friend. Maybe he just don’t know what to look fo. Surely, there would be those that would realize his miraculous ability to never tire. Smokes decided from now on, with anyone else around, he would do his best to appear ridiculously unfit, like he definitely was until recently. Dis gots to be Da Screenwrita’s doin’.

  Standing at the point where hi-way 431 broke off into the southbound Gunter Avenue and northbound Blount Avenue, The Oracle spun on his heel to move south down the four-lane. Not falling into step behind him, D spoke. “Dude, the police station and all that shit this way.” He pointed North up Gunter. “Why the hell you going the wrong way?”

  “Not da wrong way.” Smokes said with authority. It seemed to the Latino that his new friend must have a guardian angel on his shoulder. The guy moves with some kind of purpose, a knowing.

  “Shit, fine!” Diego turned to face south. He’s the reason I’m still alive, I should stick with him. Hesitantly, D began following the leader.

  Passing Arby’s, Burger King, the Jet Pep gas station and several other abandoned businesses, the two survivors saw absolutely no one. 431 was the busiest road in Marshall County, yet they had not seen a single moving car the entire time they had been traveling right down the middle of it. D had never experienced anything so creepy. Are we completely alone? Where the hell is everybody? I ain’t even seen no bones! He shuddered, remembering Mrs. Ramsey in the hallway.

  “Madre de Dios!” Looking over to his left and crossing himself, D walked backwards in a hurry.

  There were at least a couple bodies lying in the parking lot of Bottom Dollar Pawn Shop. Initially, it would’ve tensed him just to see corpses. After a moment, he was horrified to realize they were wearing clothes. These were people, not peevies! Whoever did the shooting better have had a damn good reason. He shrugged, it was a pawn shop, maybe they was stealing.

  Keeping his eyes forward, The Oracle ignored the bullet riddled bodies. “Gonna be mo, just wait.” There hadn’t been visions detailing the full backgrounds of the people laying in the parking lot, the others that would be, their executioner, or even the reasons they would be shot. However, Smokes at least somehow knew those wouldn’t be the last bodies
seen there.

  Why we doing all this walking? We done passed a hundred cars I could’ve got into and boosted. No way Smokes ain’t wore out. I sure as hell am! D was about to head over to The Magnolia on the right, opposite the pawn shop and maybe find a sweet ride in the parking lot.

  Just as he was about to offer his jacking expertise, Smokes shot a finger forward. “Look at dat, homey!”

  Squinting, D could make out several cop cars parked across the highway on the causeway before them. The po po! He had never been so glad to see law enforcement. Both men hustled past the Best Western on their left and the Exxon on the opposite side of 431.

  I know what I’ma find. D don’t need to know I know. The Oracle sometimes felt guilty because he had to hide his unexplainable knowledge. If he actually told Diego or anyone he had seen into the future, would they believe him? Would it hurt to try?

  “No one can know. Keep this connection secret!” That was jarring. Though The Screenwriter had given him instructions to be followed immediately several times before, this was the first time he could recall it was apparent the voice was listening.

  Commanding from a distance was the feeling he got most of the time. Now he knew The Screenwriter was eavesdropping and spying on his every move since showing up in his mind. He nearly gasped. Dat means it’s seen da movie I was watchin’ last night!

  When they came to within a dozen yards of the police barricade, Diego slowed to a complete stop. He nearly broke into tears. “What? Where...?” Not a soul was anywhere in sight. D trotted to the opened door of one of the cop cars and reached in. Pulling the handset from the radio, he clicked it and turned the knobs on the radio. Dead. “Why?”

  Smokes didn’t understand it, himself. The car door hadn’t been standing open more than a few hours yet, but dead it was. Dead, it gots to be. By da will of Da Screenwrita.