As I swung the hammer, time seemed to slow down, and I watched the entire thing at a thousand frames per second. When the head of the hammer met with the top of the unsuspecting monster, his head absorbed the hammer like a fist into a down pillow. I could see the skin sink and distort around the impact point. The top of the head filled quickly with all of the displaced fluid from the additional matter of the hammer. Then a blackish, brownish, almost rusty-colored fluid began to erupt from fracture points that quickly appeared all around the impact site of my hammer. I could feel the hammer hesitating briefly against the skull before it cracked and gave way to the force that was pressing against it. A fine mist exploded in the air, and every tiny droplet seemed to hang there for an eternity. And then, as quickly as my optical slow motion began, time returned to its normal breathtaking pace as the zombie simply collapsed to the ground in a surprisingly nondramatic fashion.
I was totally unprepared for the impacting jolt, and as he dropped to the ground, his skull took my hammer with him. I jumped back, waiting for the other three to turn and at least acknowledge their fallen comrade, but they seemed to give less than a shit about it. If anything, he was one less hungry mouth to feed.
I bent down slowly to retrieve the hammer, and the suction almost pulled the hammer back out of my hand. It was like pulling a boot out of ten inches of mud, and the sound was just as wet. I looked down at the mess on the ground. That congealed open wound that just a few short weeks ago was the memory and speech function of this man was soaking into my lawn. He probably had a family, and the ring on his finger meant he was married.
I have never killed anyone in my life. I've thought about it. Many times. This zombie was definitely not a human anymore, but it was still human-ish.
It was the closest thing to actually killing a human that you will ever find, and I have to tell you, it was easy. Not that I had a conscience to be burdened, but this felt more like beating a spider to death with a shoe than killing a human being.
The benefits of being an inhuman monster, I guess.
The hammer handle was slick with the grime from its previous victim, so I went to Carl and wiped it clean on his coat. I stood back up and lined up my next shot. This one was a woman. She was wearing a house dress, an apron, and she had on what looked like a green mud mask of some kind. Granted, you shouldn't leave a mud mask on for longer than an hour, but I think her skin lost that glow a while ago. I swung hard, and she dropped to the ground just as quickly as her predecessor.
Two left.
The dog popped its head out from the bush to see what was going on. It looked at the two motionless bodies on the ground, and then saw me preparing to swing on the next one. I couldn't see it due to the lushness of my azaleas, but I could distinctly hear the happy thumping of its tail against the stump of my bush. The third zombie in my lineup was a man in his fifties. He wore dirty blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Well, not plain white. There was bright red blood coving half of it, and it looked like all of that blood came from a very open bite wound on his neck. He wore small circle framed glasses like John Lennon, but there was no glass in the frames.
Fashion over function, I thought.
I swung my hammer hard towards his tight cropped buzz cut, but as I did, he chose this opportunity to make a go at the dog in the bush. I had committed to my swing and it was too late to stop. He was slumped over, and the head of my hammer hit him square between the shoulder blades. My momentum kept me moving, and I crashed into him, knocking him into the shrubbery. This didn't go unnoticed by the zombie to my left. He turned to look at me, and then forgot all about the small appetizer hiding in the bushes. He wanted the main course. With a burst of speed I didn't know they possessed, he grabbed my arm and tried to bite it as quickly as he could. I twisted my body to try and get away, but he didn't let go. This time it was his momentum that took me to the ground. His body was heavy and right on top of mine. What made the entire situation worse was sprinkler head sticking out of the ground, digging into my spine. Luckily, I never lost the hammer, so I placed the handle in his mouth sideways to act as a gag to keep this thing from biting me.
Meanwhile, the dog seemed to be putting up its own fight with the buzz cut zombie that fell into the bushes with him. I could hear bushes shaking, a zombie grunting, and a barking that sounded desperate. Gripping the hammer by the filth covered head, and the filth covered handle, I pushed the zombie off of me and onto his back. I straddled his chest and ripped the handle from his mouth with no concern for his dental health. He reached up to me, and tried clawing at my shirt. My adrenaline was pumping, and my vision was fiery red. I swung the hammer hard into his forehead and watched at how it caved in. His hands still clawed, and I could feel his jagged fingernails against my skin. I swung again and again. Each blow dented and contorted his face into a new and surprising shape. While he continued to claw at me, one of his disgusting fingers actually made it into my mouth. I shook my head to the side and spit the taste out as best as I could. It was like beef jerky that was covered in dirt, shit, and a hint of jock funk. I swung again. This time, I could feel the skull giving. So I doubled down and kept striking the same spot. His entire head began to cave in on itself, and his hands slowly dropped to his side. I swung one more time for good luck, and I was done with him. I stood up to see the businessman that was shambling up the street had finally made his way to my lawn. Several others were also wandering this way.
Goddammit!
I jumped up and kicked buzz cut in the ribs. I pulled him up by his ears, and saw he had just gotten a hold of the dog and was refusing to let go of his prize. The dog barked loudly, and there was clearly fear in the sound it made. I slammed buzz cut back, and his head struck the sprinkler head that had just left an impression on my spine. He started to sit up, but I quickly brought my boot down on the bridge of his nose and jammed his head so hard into the sprinkler head that it must have burst into the back of his brain. He stopped moving, but I gave him a few more stomps for good measure.
The businessman was getting closer.
I looked down to the dog who looked at me with a wagging tail.
"You, get out of here!" I ran for the door, and the dog matched me stride for stride. As I opened the door, the mutt tried to squeeze inside.
"Bullshit!" I said as I used my foot to slide him away from my door. "Get the fuck out of here." I slammed the door behind me and immediately heard tiny paws scratching against it. I went to the window to see the business man had gotten closer and was walking right towards my front door.
"Beat it, dog,” I whispered, yet the scratching continued.
The business man drew closer, and the dog let out a panicked yelp, and then tried even harder to scratch through my front door. Up the street, two more zombies wandered into view. The dog barked again.
On the other side of the door, the tiny dog tried in vain to make a hole in the impenetrable door. The zombie in the business suit made his way up the walkway to the door. He shuffled his feet slowly, and once he was close enough, the dog turned to face him. The little dog let out a growl in an attempt to intimidate its attacker. The intimidation tactic would have worked better if the zombie actually possessed the ability to be intimidated. Even still, the dog was exhausted and had chosen to make this its final stand right there. As the business man bent over to grab the dog, the small animal released a torrent of urine on my door mat. The small frame of the dog shook violently as impending doom reached towards it. I quickly opened the door, grabbed it by the scruff of the neck, and pulled it towards me. The zombie burst forward, and got one disgusting hand on the dog. I lifted my leg and kicked the businessman as hard as I could square in the chest. He stumbled backwards and fell onto his back as I slammed the door. The dog scampered up my body and sat on my forearm with two paws holding onto my shoulder. I looked out the window to see what the businessman would do when he stood. It took longer than it should have for him to stand, but once he was on his feet, the businessman look
ed around, confused as to where the food went. He was unclear of the concept of doors. To the oatmeal that was now his brain, the dog vanished into thin air. He circled my front yard in search for his food, and after a while, a few others joined him. I watched as they moved like cattle around my lawn, and then I felt it. A warm oozing on my neck.
That fucking zombie bit me in the neck when we were wrestling on the ground!
I could feel it spreading down my neck. Then I looked down to realize I wasn't bitten. I wasn't bleeding. The warmth I was feeling was the tongue of the rescued dog as it coated the left side of my neck with its happy slobber. I plopped it down on the floor and went to get a towel to clean myself. I had zombie blood peppered over my entire body, and yet I was more disgusted by the slobber of the tiny shit-eater that was now inside my house.
The dog looked up at me and wagged its tail wildly. "Don't get too comfy!" I said. "Once those things have cleared out, you are back out on the street and on your own." If it did understand me, I don't think it cared. It looked at me with that tail fwapping against the wooden floors, and if I didn't know any better, I would swear the thing was smiling.
"I mean it. The minute those things are gone!"
I was exhausted. I went to the couch to sit down, and literally the second my ass touched fabric, that dog was on me. Half a second later, it was flying through the air on a trajectory that put it far as away from me as possible. It landed on the ground confused by its recent flight, shook its head, and ran back to jump on me. Once again, I tossed it to the floor. The dog lowered its head, and brought its wagging tail up in the air.
"I'm not playing." I said. "Get the fuck away from me." I used all of my skills at mimicking human emotions and gave it a cold dead stare that said I will fucking kill you.
I don't know if this dog is just stupid, or if it has the ability to see past my bullshit fake emotions. It started to run towards me again, and I shot upright. The sudden movement and the speed that I brought my arms up with must have given it the clue that I was clearly done playing this game. It stopped in its tracks, and laid down on the floor right where it was. Within seconds, I could hear a faint snore coming from its snout. The sound was rhythmic and actually kind of soothing, like the gentle repetition of a celling fan that whirs throughout the night. Within moments, I was asleep and off into my dreamless wonderland. When I woke up, I found that the dog was apparently part ninja. At some point while I was sleeping, it made its way back to me, and curled up into a ball on my lap where it still laid snoozing in its own doggy slumberland. My initial thought was to throw it farther than before, but I was still too tired. So I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let the darkness absorb me. As the world slowly faded to darkness, one thought caught the final bit of light from my consciousness.
Get rid of that dog.
Chapter 3
I woke up in a panic. My olfactory senses were warning me that a zombie was in my house. The smell was enough to make me want to vomit. I jumped up to try and find a weapon, or an escape route, but as I took my first step towards self preservation, I sniffed the air again. This didn't smell like a zombie, though it was almost equally as bad. Then I spotted it hunched in the corner with its head bowed down, but looking up at me with pleading in its eyes. The tiny little dog was in the process of taking the biggest shit I've ever seen. I used to eat at Kobe steakhouse every Sunday night, and when I would get home, I would have my routine "Kobe blowout." I always thought I deserved an award for the size of my shits, but this dog, that couldn't be more than nine or ten pounds, just put my shit to shame. I would have been impressed with it if it wasn't for the fact that this world record shit was taking place in my living room and infusing my breathing air with it’s rich fecal particles.
"Are you kidding me?!" I growled through clenched teeth.
I swear this: I do not care about animals. They are ignorant beasts as far as I am concerned. Listening to people at the office talk about how their pets are like little people or furry children always made my skin burn. They are beasts. Stupid animals who show you respect as pack leader. The only reason they seem to love you is that you provide food and water. That's it. You hear the stories every so often of an elderly woman who died in her sleep, and nobody knew for a few weeks. They kick in the door to find a happy and healthy pup that managed to survive by eating every ounce of gristly meat from the old bag. Yes, that sounds like the unconditional love that pet owners are always talking about.
That being said, when I approached that dog, its eyes told me that it was just as unhappy shitting inside as I was for it doing all that shitting. I took a swing at it anyway, and it pinched off that loaf and ducked faster than I would have thought possible.
It ran, but not too far. It kept its eyes on mine, and waited for me to attack again.
I smiled and showed my hands in a placating manner as I slowly approached. I softened my voice in the way that people do when they are talking to a scared child.
"You shit in my house you furry fucker." My words dripped with sugar. "Let me get a little closer to you, so I can thank you for this monster you left on my floor."
The dog’s head cocked to one side, and it quickly scanned me up and down.
"That's right... Just let me get my hands on you. Maybe I'll make you eat that shit, because I as sure as hell don't want to touch it..."
I inched closer, and its head cocked to the other side as it tried to take everything in. I swear, I could see it making calculations in its head. The small shitball took two small steps away from me. This was as good a chance as any, so I dove at it hard and fast. The tiny little shitter jumped to the side and started running. I hit the floor hard, and every ounce of oxygen that was in my lungs was now being expelled out in record time. I actually saw brown spots in my eyes as I gasped to take in air. I looked to my left and saw the dog sitting there with that same head to one side, quizzical look.
I swung my arm at it blindly and met nothing but air. The dog thought I was playing; it barked at me and wagged its tail.
"You think this is a game?"
It barked excitedly again.
I jumped up and started chasing after it. It’s hind quarters bounced happily with each bound through my home. Maybe i'll throw it off the roof into the crowd of zombies that want to eat it. I thought. Hell, if I throw it hard enough, I could get the zombies out of my yard and into a neighbor's.
The dog ran down my hallway, and I knew there was no way out for it now.
"Hey, buddy..." I said still using my sugary sweet dog voice. "You are all out of running room."
It barked almost like it was challenging me.
The problem was when I get too close, it gets too slippery. I need to stun it. I never lost eye contact with it as I bent down to take off my shoe. Then I stood up and felt the heft of the sneaker to try and find the best grip for throwing it.
"You still want to play?" I asked. Its tail was a blur as it barked it’s response.
"How about catch? You like that?"
The pooch’s body bounced with excitement. I threw the shoe as hard as I could, and it would have definitely hit the dog had I been a much better shot. As it was, the shoe hit the floor three feet in front of the dog, and then rolled right towards it where it happily began to chew on it like a squeaky toy.
Damn.
"Yeah, play with that one...Here, I'll give you the other one too." I took off my other shoe and started to slowly inch my way towards the beast. Every second that it took me to make my way to it was another second for its disgusting slobber to soak into my laces. I made a mental note to replace the laces. After several feet were closed, I stood directly over the small pup who was only slightly bigger than the shoe it was chewing on. One whack to the head should stun it enough for me to grab it.
The Inhuman Chronicles (Book 1): Inhuman Page 4