Zombies' End: Aftermath
Page 9
Then he did something that scared the hell out of me.
The dog simply showed his teeth to us.
There was no accompanying growl. No guttural threat. Just a quick flash of his pearly razor sharp whites. It looked more like a god damned grin than anything else.
It felt like forever with us just staring at each other. Each side was waiting for the other to make their first move.
Terrence took a few very slow and very cautious steps towards the pack. Low growls started to resonate from the beasts. Terrence spoke in a calm voice, but it had a noticeable quiver buried in it.
The dogs could sense the fear in his words, and they all began licking their lips.
“Heeeey there, puppies…good puppies…” He said.
As he inched his way forward with his hands out placatingly to show them he meant no harm, the dogs just followed him with their eyes. As their growling got slightly louder, Terrence slowed his inching to an almost stop.
I looked around for any safe haven I could find— trying to find my escape.
Through the dining room scattered with bones, I saw a very narrow door in the corner. It was opened just enough so that I could see the start of a staircase behind it.
Where those stairs went, I had no idea. But it had to be better than this fucking Cujo convention.
Trying my best to keep my mouth from moving, and being as quiet as I could, I called out to Terrence and Jason. Terrence didn’t take his eyes off the dogs, but Jason turned his head slightly so that he could see me. I rocked my head back towards the door to let him in on my plan. But as my head motioned towards the door, the dogs all moved their heads to the direction I was gesturing to.
Those dogs were smart.
The alpha took one step forward and pulled his ears back. That must have been the signal the others were waiting for. All at once, the pack leapt towards us.
I turned and made a bee line towards the door through the skeleton room. I Instinctively grabbed a wooden chair from the room, and blindly threw it into the pack behind me— hoping to slow them down, or better yet, take one or two out with any luck. I heard the chair hit the ground, solidly.
No yelp. No bark of pain. Just the sound of Terrence yelling at me to “watch it.”
I was first one to the door, and once I got in, I got behind the door, ready to slam it once Jason and Terrence made it in. Jason shot past me and started bolting up the stairs without any hesitation.
The second that Terrence cleared the door, I slammed the it as hard as I could.
It didn’t close all the way, and a piercing yelp let me know why.
When I looked down, a furry paw trembled between the wooden frame and the heavy door.
Like a door to door salesman, the mongrel attempted to keep the door from closing on it’s potential “client.”
I know I broke its paw, I had to have.
I didn’t take any pressure off the door as it whined in pain.
I have to admit, the part of me that loved dogs wanted to pull the door open, and take care of the injury, but the reality of what would happen if I opened that door was very different.
With what must have been a tremendous effort, the dog yanked its broken leg out from between the door and the frame. When it did, the door slammed shut.
I could hear the sound of unclipped claws ripping into the wood. Jason was already halfway up the stairs with Terrence right behind him.
I took a few seconds to breathe while leaning against the door. I was trying to use my mind to will the door into being thicker and unbreakable.
It was an old heavy door, and I didn’t really think they would be able to get through it.
But the fear was there.
Then, the scratching stopped, and I heard the paws of a wild pack running away from the door and up the front staircase.
They fucking knew where we were going— this wasn’t their first time hunting survivors in this house.
I called up to Terrence and Jason, screaming at them to wait, but they were too far up, and I’m sure they couldn’t hear anything through their frantic stair run.
I chased after them yelling so loud my throat felt like it had glass in it. I heard a door slam at the top of the stairs, and when I finally made it to the top, I ran into the first room but they weren’t there.
I was alone.
I ran into the next room, and there they were.
All of them.
Terrence,Jason, and the fucking dogs.
This time it didn’t look like we had too many options.
It was a big ornate bedroom. I mean huge.
There was a California king size bed, and it had a wooden canopy over it. The bed had been made, which was a hard thing to notice because it had also been chewed up. Against a wall on the other side of the room was a big bookshelf filled with books and various knickknacks.
In another corner there was a baby grand piano. The piano was shiny and black everywhere except for where the legs were chewed to the dull wood under color.
On the other wall, there was a door that lead to a bathroom. And i could see an open door to another room through there.
We might’ve been able to make it there, but to get there, we would have to run towards the dogs.
It was too risky.
Then behind us, I saw a big ornate fireplace.
Bingo.
Next to the fireplace was a basket of fireplace tools. There was a cast iron poker, a small but heavy shovel, and those fire log tong things.
I grabbed the poker and tossed the shovel to Jason; I handed the tong things to Terrence.
He looked at me like, “what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” I just shrugged my shoulders and tightened my grip on my poker.
We were in another standoff. The dogs growled that low guttural sound that made them all sound like some fucked up symphony warming up before a concert.
Then a different sound came from down the hallway. A whimper. One of the lab mixes came limping into the room. His front right paw was shattered.
He was the bastard I got in the door.
There would be no mending this paw. It was hanging off like so much useless meat, and part of his bone was popping out through the skin.
I don’t know if I’ve said this or not, but I love dogs. I really do. I’ve had them my whole life. When my dog Seymour had to be put down, I cried like a baby for a month. I would have done anything for that dog.
But, as much as I love dogs—I have to admit—I was so happy to see how badly I fucked up that mutt. He stood next to the grey pit bull and licked his wound. The alpha looked at him for half a second before jumping on him and ripping a chunk of flesh from its throat.
The mutt didn’t even have time to yelp. And, a second later, every other dog in the pack took their portion of the fresh meat from their fallen brethren. The corgi was the last one to get a piece, but she took her share and got more “marinara” on her snout and chest.
She looked up as she gulped down her meat, then licked her lips clean while making deadly eye contact with me.
Jason was the first to move. He screamed loud and swung the shovel at the closest dog to him.
His scream caught all the dogs off guard, and the resounding thump of the cast iron fireplace shovel onto a lab’s thick skull was like a starting gun to start the carnage.
A beautiful golden retriever jumped onto the bed, then used it like a springboard to bound off of it towards Terrence. Terrence caught the dog by the throat with his log movers, but it was too heavy. Terrence fell onto his back, and the dog was suspended over him. He didn’t stop squeezing the log mover. The retriever snarled and drooled in Terrence’s face.
I swung the poker at every dog that got close to me or Terrence— I even connected a few times.
Terrence never broke eye contact with the retriever he had in his vice. Its growls softened as its air was being cut off by the fireplace tool.
After a second longer, its eyes rolled back, and its to
ngue went slack. Terrence heaved the dog away from him and scrambled to his feet.
Everything seemed to slow down all around me. I looked at that retriever as Terrence released it from his vice, and thought about it—the horror of all of us getting eaten alive by dogs—
Then, I heard Jason scream. He was trying to pull himself up on the canopy over the bed. One of the pits had him by the calf and started shaking its head violently like it was trying to pull Jason’s leg completely off.
I could see his leg muscle ripping apart. The pain must have been excruciating. Jason lost his grip on the canopy and fell to the ground. The pit never let go of his leg. Jason tried to stand up, but that fucking corgi jumped onto his chest and bit his face.
Jason swung his shovel and made contact with the corgi, knocking it off him and allowing him to sit up enough to look at me and Terrence.
His chin was gone.
That corgi bit his chin off.
He had a look of shock on his face—like he wasn’t really in his body anymore.
The corgi was back, and this time it went after the arm that was propping Jason up. He cringed at the pain and collapsed down onto his back.
I started to run to him, but Terrence grabbed my arm. “We have to get out of here!” He shouted.
Terrence started pulling me towards the bathroom while the other dogs started circling Jason on the floor. The pit still chewed hungrily away on his leg, and that fucking corgi had already worked her way through Jason’s wrist.
As he tried to sit up once more, the alpha pounced on him.
He pulled Jason’s throat out as easy is if he was pulling the stem off of an apple.
Then, the alpha looked up at me and Terrence, and all the other dogs followed his gaze.
The pack left Jason’s lifeless body behind and started running towards us. Terrence yanked me into the bathroom and slammed the door behind us.
Terrence and I made it into the bathroom—but so did one of the mutts.
He lunged at Terrence’s throat, but caught his shoulder instead. Terrence screamed and threw the dog into the big wrought iron tub.
It took the dog a second to get back onto his feet, but the curved slippery surface of the bathtub made it challenging.
Just as it was about to leap, I pulled the clear plastic shower curtain closed. He jumped and hit me through the curtain. The shower curtain came off and we both hit the floor.
The dog kept biting at me with only the thin clear plastic between us.
The next thing I knew, the dog was hovering over me, suspended in the air.
It was Terrence.
He grabbed the corners of the shower curtain and lifted the dog like it was in a clear plastic Santa sack.
Terrence had a look on his face like I’d never seen. He swung the sack as hard as he could at the wall. The dog inside let out a sound that sounded like a wet cough as he hit the tiled wall. Terrence kept swinging the sack at the wall over and over.
Tiles started to shake loose with every resounding thud the dog’s body made. The sack started to fill with blood, and the coughing sounds stopped, but Terrence kept swinging until his arms couldn’t swing anymore.
When he dropped the clear sack, I saw the dog’s lifeless face pressed against the inside of the shower curtain. Terrence still had that crazy look on his face. His shoulder was bleeding pretty bad, and he looked at me through gritted teeth and said, “How many left?!”
I ran through everything in my head and still wasn’t sure. “Three or four?” I said.
I still had the fireplace poker, but Terrence dropped his log mover on the way into the bathroom. He ripped the shower rod off of the wall, and sized it up like a bow staff.
It would have to work.
“We need to keep them separated,” I said. “I’ll try to keep them here at this door, and you go check out into the other room!”
The plan was for Terrence to go into the other room, while I keep them distracted at this door. Then he could start making noise, and we could split them up. Maybe get one or 2 in that room. It’s wasn’t ideal, but we couldn’t take on 4 at once.
Terrence nodded and stood by the other door. I could hear a soft wet sloshing on the other side of my door.
It took me a second to realize it was the sound of dogs eating.
Eating Jason.
I started wiggling the knob a little—Like I was going to open the door.
The ruse worked. In a heartbeat, there were paws and claws scratching at my door. They were in a frenzy. Terrence cautiously opened the other bathroom door and looked into the other room.
All clear.
He went in and stood behind the door to the hallway, ready to slam it when the first one came in. Then I heard Terrence yell, “Dinner time, you fuckers!”
I could feel some of the dogs leave the door and run into the hallway towards the other room.
“They’re coming!” I shouted. I heard the door slam shut, and then I heard the growling and barking. I ran in and saw two dogs pushing Terrence into the corner.
One pit bull, and a whippet.
Both snarled at Terrence as he swung the shower rod at them.
The whippet was fast—really fast.
He lunged between swings and got Terrence on his side.
I jumped in and swung the poker at the pit and got it right in its side.
It didn’t even yelp. It turned his boxy head to look at me, with an “excuse me” look. Then, he turned the rest of his body towards me to let me know I had its full attention now.
Oh, shit.
He took slow, deliberate steps towards me.
I swung the poker at its face, but I missed really wide.
I tripped as I was backing away, and before I knew it, it had me by my shin. I don’t even remember seeing it lunge at me. One second I was stumbling backwards, and the next, my leg was all the way in its maw.
I could hear the bones in my shin crack before I could feel it.
And believe me, I felt it.
It was like I could feel each and every tooth shredding through my skin and muscle. I could feel each shard of bone grinding against each other as the pit bull splintered more and more of my leg bone.
Terrence let out a scream, and the pit bull turned to look at him. The whippet had Terrence on the ground, and the pit leapt off of me to help his comrade finish off Terrence.
Either he figured he already immobilized me, and he could always come back to finish his meal after helping kill off the other one, or he was just easily distracted.
Terrence kept swinging the shower rod, and the pit found an opening by jumping between swings. He bit deep into Terrence’s face, and the look of anguish of my friend’s face will haunt me forever.
It took everything I had to get up. The pain was causing my vision to blur and darken around the edges.
I was going to black out. Blacking out meant death. Death meant those dogs were going to eat me. I willed the blackness away.
I was not going to let that fucking corgi shit me out.
I tried to put some weight on my chewed up leg and it became instantly apparent, that was not happening. I was going down, but I used all the strength I had in my good leg to fall towards the dogs. I used the poker and pushed the pointed end into the broad side of the pit.
I felt a half a second of hesitation before it punctured the animal’s skin.
It pushed right through the ribs, punctured the lungs, and then shot out the beast’s other side.
The pit shot his head around and tried to bite at the poker. He managed to turn his head just enough to reach the weapon, and a few of his teeth broke off as he desperately chomped at the cast iron before collapsing to the side in a heap.
He squirmed in pain a little, but the movement only quickened his death.
Terrence was struggling to hold the whippet’s mouth open.
He was weak. He was losing a lot of blood from his face, and it wasn’t until then that I saw that when the pit bull bit his
face, it look his left eye also.
I wasn’t in the best of shape either. I didn’t even have the strength to pull the poker out of the pit.
Somehow, I managed to climb over to the whippet on my hands and knees.
Terrence was starting to lose his grip on its mouth. His hands were bleeding. The whippet kept trying to get free so it could deliver a fatal bite.
I finally got behind it and threw my arm around its throat. I relaxed my entire body except for the arm I was using to cut off its air supply. We fell back to the floor together, and I know my weight squeezed more of its air out when we landed.
I just kept tightening my grip.
Squeezing.
His hind legs kicked forward desperately and scratched the living shit out of my forearms, but I didn’t let go. I refused to.
I kept squeezing. Even after it stopped scratching. Even after I knew it was dead. I kept tightening my grip as I laid there on the floor next to Terrence.
I looked over at Terrence. He started breathing real fast, and then he threw up a little.
He never took his one remaining eye off me—
Eyes are crazy.
We all know the look a zombie has in its eyes. It’s vacant—but wild.
If you ever saw someone die, you can see it in their eyes.
I watched as Terrence’s eye lost that spark.
He just slipped away. His eye went from a scared look to completely empty in seconds.
Within the course of minutes, I lost two of my best friends in the world.
After about an hour, I finally managed to prop myself up. I used the wall, and Terrence’s shower rod to get myself back to my feet.
The pain was unbearable.
I knew there were least two dogs left—The alpha which I hadn’t seen since it took out Jason’s throat, and that fucking corgi.
I used some nice expensive looking decorative towels from the bathroom to wrap up my leg as tight as I could. I wrapped my leg so tight I couldn’t feel anything anymore.
There was only one way I could make it out alive.
I would either die in this room, or I’d die in the next, but there was a chance—a small chance— I could still make it out of there alive.
And, if I couldn’t make it out…at least I might be able to kill that fucking corgi!