by Evans, Mike
“No, if we see anything, we are going to hang back. There’s only two of us left and I’d prefer to keep it that way, kid.
“Oh, I think I stopped being a kid the first time I blew a cheerleader’s face off with a twelve-gauge shotgun.”
“Was that day one?”
Greg nodded, trying to not remember everything about the day all at once.
“So, not one of you has any family left?”
Greg shook his head no. “Everyone but Ellie, Shaun, and me lost their parents at the welcome home rally. It was a feeding frenzy, and the single most disturbing thing that I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t help but watch in awe when the first bus door was opened to save the girls inside. The firefighter on the outside was pulled in, and minutes later, all hell erupted from the bus.”
Kristy spoke up in the backseat. “You know, even though we are young, I promise we will do everything we can to help. We want to learn; we want to make sure that we are safe and that you two are also. We know you could go off on your own and probably make a go of it, but I think that a small group is going to pay off big time. The more you teach us, the less you two will have to do, right?”
Aslin looked in his rearview, seeing a seriousness he’d usually only seen on a soldier's face. “You got it, kid… I mean, Kristy. We will teach you how to shoot, how to not be seen, and how to hopefully blow some serious shit up.”
Greg, with nothing but seriousness said, “I would absolutely love to learn how to blow shit up.”
Aslin said, “You know, I can’t tell you what a shock that is to hear coming from your mouth.”
Patrick asked, “So if you teach us how to shoot, does that mean I get to upgrade from something that only holds four or five rounds in it for something that I holds a lot more rounds?”
Aslin stared at Patrick for a second, trying not to judge a book by its cover. He said, “How old are you, Patrick?”
“Fifteen. Why? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Are you a smart fifteen year old?”
Patrick answered cautiously, “Yeah, maybe… why?”
Aslin held up one of his brass rounds. “You see this? I can teach you to hit something with it from a mile away if you are good at math and thinking on your feet. You seem like someone who might want to keep as much distance from zombies and yourself as possible.”
“Yeah, I’m great with math. And, yes, I’m all about not being within a hundred yards of one of those things. You can teach me to shoot like you, then?”
Aslin shook his head no, holding back a smile. “You won’t ever shoot as good as me, kid. But then again no one shoots as good as me, but you’ll be the shit with a high-powered rifle, son.”
Patrick sat back, feeling a little better about his future, staring at the heavy rifle that was resting next to Greg’s head.
Greg gave Patrick a thumbs up. “Man, things are looking up for us.”
Aslin made a turn onto the street that Andy’s Surplus Goods was on. He slammed on the brakes and a thud from the back came, along with a slew of curse words from Clary. “Learn to drive, asshole. What the hell’s the problem?”
Aslin leaned his head out the window. “Look for yourself. My driving is impeccable. You’re the one on the outside. Do you want me to try and drive through that?”
The lights of Andy’s shop were off and Clary gazed at the street. There were hundreds of Turned in the street, not moving. They were just standing still, sniffing, and looking absolutely braindead. Shaun saw this and said, “Whatever we do, don’t make any noise. We don’t need those things rushing up here before we’re ready.”
Clary looked around; his eyes stopped on a diner with an old-fashioned sign, declaring it to be Dee’s Place. “Shaun, how big is that diner down there? You been there before?”
“Of course. I probably would have starved without that place. It’s pretty big. You want a hamburger or something?”
Clary was shaking his head, looking at the brick structure, and thinking about it intensely. “No... No, I want to blow the hell out of it.”
Shaun said, “You realize what that will do, right? Every—”
“Yeah, Shaun, exactly. Every single one of those things will come this way and let us get into the old guy’s place, which is exactly what we want to have happen, isn’t it?”
Shaun thought about it, agreeing but still unsure how the outcome was going to come to fruition. “You think blowing up the building is going to get their attention? I mean, hell, I blew up a little van. I didn’t do any real estate demolition.”
Clary had a wide grin spreading across his face. “We aren’t going to draw their attention by blowing up the building. We are going to get all of those damn things inside of it and drop the roof on their fucking heads.”
Shaun stared at the building for a second and then shared in the smile, liking the idea of taking out as many of those things as possible. Clary said, “Those things are hunters; they want to eat and kill and they want nothing else. We want to live; therefore, we are enemies and will kill every last goddamned one of them. And if they come up with a cure, they can take care of who is still left.”
Clary bent down, knocking on the back window of the truck. Tina slid it open. “You got an idea to get rid of those things down there? We aren’t ever going to make it inside the shop if they are around.”
“Aslin, back up to that diner. It’s too structurally sound right now.”
“You going to blow it up, aren’t you? God, I love it when you blow shit up.”
Greg about jumped out of the truck. “I’m going with Clary then. I want to learn how to blow up shit; please let me come with you.”
Clary said, “Get your gun. We don’t know if the place is empty or not. Aslin, come back and get us in ten minutes.”
Greg smiled. “You didn’t have to tell me to grab the gun. I’m not leaving this thing behind for the rest of my damn life.”
He jumped out, getting into the back of the truck. They reversed quickly, stopping in front of Dee’s Place. The two got out and checked the door; it was locked. Clary punched a hole through the front glass door and reached his hand in cutting it on the glass. Greg watched the fresh blood on Clary’s hand and grabbed a handkerchief handing it to Clary who tried to refuse it. Greg shook his head no, insisting that he take it. “You don’t get it. They can smell blood like nothing else. We might need to have this in a few minutes.”
Clary let Greg walk in; the space was dark. Greg felt around the entrance, looking for a switch. The light coming in from the outside was dim because of the writing on the windows for the team’s return. Greg said, “I can’t see shit. Why don’t you have a flashlight on that thing?”
“Just find the damn switch.”
There was a growling that neither of them liked hearing. Greg said, “What the hell is that?
Clary reached into his pants, finding a small flashlight, and he shined it around the room. He didn’t see anything on the first pass with it. He went back a second time, and his heart skipped a beat. Standing in the middle of the room were three Turned, swaying back and forth. They were standing in small puddles of what was most likely their own blood. Greg walked back slowly toward Clary who had the flashlight trained on the trio. He read the back of the jersey. Clary said, “You know a kid named Giles Batchelor?”
Greg said, “Yeah, I know all of them. He’s a foreign exchange student from the UK. That’s Lisa Williams; she’s a cheerleader. And the other is DeBryan, he’s a football star.”
“You got any issues taking them out?”
“No, not if they are going to try and eat me, I sure as hell don’t.”
Greg raised the rifle, pointing at the three. Clary whispered, “You can’t shoot them.”
“Uh, yeah I can. Are you crazy?”
“You forgot about the mob down the street. You fire that gun before Aslin comes back for us, and I don’t care what we do, we aren’t going to be able to hold those things off.”
&
nbsp; Clary set down his rifle and pack slowly, looking at the wall. He walked over, punching the light switch. When he looked back, the three who hadn’t given him any of their attention were now staring straight at them. Giles was sniffing wildly. Clary looked down at his hand, realizing what it was that was enticing them. The football player twisted his head sideways and leapt into the air. Clary pulled his folding shovel from the bag, pushing Greg back up against the door and out of the way.
Clary flipped the shovelhead down as the Turned teen came within inches of him. He took a knee and extended the shovel up as hard and with every ounce of power that he had in him. He slammed the shovel into his neck, slicing directly through it and sending a slew of blood in every direction. Clary turned his head, getting painted with the blood. The Turned landed on its feet, hands ready to attack before it collapsed onto the ground. Its head rolled under the table, cut clean off from its neck.
Greg watched in awe as the other two Turned came running for Clary. He didn’t have time to duck underneath the two teenagers left and ran towards the football player, picking him up with an iron grip and running back toward the counter, slamming his skull against the steel top repeatedly until his head cracked open and his brains spilled out.
The girl who used to be Lisa came up growling, pouncing on Clary’s back. He could feel the saliva from her mouth running down his back. He screamed, gripping her hands but only able to catch her thumbs. He pulled her over his head hard and fast, twisting the digits in his hand and snapping them both clean off. She screamed in rage, flipping back up, only to meet a boot in the face that sent her sliding backward. She got up one last time, running and jumping at Clary, who caught her midair and twisted her around, slamming her onto the ground as he unsheathed his machete. He jammed it through her chin, not stopping it until the sharp blade stuck out of the top of her skull.
Greg got up off the ground, picking up Clary’s rifle and pack and carrying it to him. Clary was breathing heavy and pulling a smoke from his pocket. He looked at the three on the ground, nodding. Greg said, “Holy shit. You need to quit smoking those things.”
Clary nodded. “I think these are the least of my concerns.”
He lit one and sat at the table for a minute, staring at the teenagers on the floor while he tried to catch his breath. “God, I hate those things. We need a silencer. We aren’t going to be able to get lucky like that every time. We need something better.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, but if there’d have been more of them, I’m pretty sure that I would have needed the gun.”
The two of them walked into the kitchen, staring at a ancient stove. “What are you going to do?”
Clary pointed at the back of it and said, “It’s gas. I was praying that it was going to be gas. We are going to fill this room up and let those things in and light it on fire. Even if it doesn’t kill them, it is sure as hell going to slow those things down. I’m going to drop the roof on their heads.”
Greg and Clary lifted the ancient oven, sliding it far enough away from the wall to loosen the gas valve. “What do we do now?”
“We jump in the truck and give it twenty minutes to fill up. After that, we need to get those things to come into the building.”
“How do we go about that then?”
“I am going to take the blood you think they want so much and hang it like a flag on the antenna of the truck. Once they start chasing, I jump out on foot and run into the building. We have the truck waiting in the back and then I run through the back and into the alleyway where everyone’s waiting for me. We can trip a grenade through the back once we leave and run like hell.”
The two walked out after making sure the door was rigged so that when it opened, a grenade pin would come out ready to blow. Clary was using his mic to tell Aslin that he needed to come back and pick them up when a Turned came, walking slowly. Greg pointed. “Shit. Great, there’s another one.”
Clary raised his pistol, taking sights on it. Greg jumped on his arm saying, “Remember the mob down the street.”
“Right, I think we need to look for a nice farm somewhere, like out of town, where there won’t be any problems again.”
Clary rubbed his face and put his pistol away. He looked around the alleyway, gripped a two-by-four he found lying against the wall, and whistled as he waved the blood-soaked handkerchief in the air. The Turned stared, catching the smell of Clary’s blood. It crouched down low and then jumped ten feet in the air and off of the side of a brick wall. Clary spun in a swirl and smashed the wood directly in the face, knocking it back four feet.
It landed flat out and jumped back up, crouching a second time and sprinted at Clary, hands open. Clary looked at the wood that was left. A broken edge had came off from the blow and only a three-foot triangle remained of it. The two ran at each other. Clary screamed a war cry as the monster ran toward him. It jumped at the last minute, surprising Clary who moved to the side of it and gripped its shirt collar, pulling it back and slamming it down to the ground. He raised the shard of wood above his head and slammed it repeatedly into the thing’s skull until he cracked it open. He put in a finishing blow to its skull with the sharp end of the two-by-four. Its legs jolted one time in shock and the rage in its eyes slowly burned out.
Greg stepped up closer to the monster on the ground, poking at it with his rifle. “Holy crap, you took it out with a two-by-four. That was awesome. Let’s hope we never need to do that again.”
“Don't count on it. If those things love noise that much, we are going to have to come up with a silencer for the rifles. We need to be able to take these things out a hell of a lot easier. Shit like this is only going to happen so many times before we get killed.”
“But it was great; I couldn’t agree more though. Let’s never do that again!”
*****
Aslin drove around the block, trying his best to avoid gaining the attention of the Turned that filled a good majority of the streets. Kristy said, “Do you think they’re all right?”
Tina laughed. “You don’t have maybe just the slightest crush on Greg, do you? Or is it Clary that you are worried about, Kristy?”
Kristy blushed. “Sorry if I am worried about someone besides myself, Tina. I guess he just strikes me as a good guy. I think he has potential.”
Tina rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you just know him so well that you can know how great he might be one day?”
Patrick said, “Now ladies, let’s just settle down. It’s all going to be okay. We just need to relax. It’s been kind of a stressful day for all of us.”
The two girls snapped their heads toward him, simultaneously snapping, “Shut up, Patrick!”
Patrick sat back in his seat, mouthing, “Wow.”
Aslin looked at the three in the backseat, shaking his head and thinking there were some third world countries that he had enjoyed a hell of a lot more than having to deal with the likes of teenagers. He said, “Open that window up and yell to Shaun. We need to do a drive-by and see if they are ready. Tell him to double tap the roof if we are good to stop and retrieve our guys.”
Kristy hit her belt and pulled open the window. “Aslin says to keep an eye out; we're going to drive down the alleyway behind Dee’s Place.”
Shaun stared back. “That’s pretty dumb. Just leave the window open; I’ll be like, ‘hey, there they are, stop the truck,’ and then we stop the truck.”
Kristy stared back at Aslin to give the message but he was already shaking his head no. “God, I hate kids. I really hate kids. This is the reason why I don't have any kids.”
The teens smiled, proud they could push someone who was suppose to be hard as nails to the near brink of wanting to strangle each and everyone one of them singlehandedly. Shaun shrugged. “Fine, we do it your way.”
Kristy shut the window to the truck, biting back a smile. Aslin pulled up by the alleyway, focusing on the task ahead of him and what was going on. Shaun slammed on the roof, doing an over dramati
c drum roll on it. Ellie looked up, laughing. “You know there is a really good chance that Aslin is going to kill you if you don’t stop screwing with him.”
“Well, I don’t want them to think they get to just come aboard and be the bosses.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to do anything stupid like acknowledging the fact that we need some serious help if we want to make it. Cut them a break; you might even learn a thing or two.”
Greg and Clary sprinted up the alleyway, throwing their gear into the back of the truck and climbing in. Shaun said, “You two okay? Did you run into any of… you know… the Turned?”
Greg nodded. “Yeah, Clary smashed one upside the head with a two-by-four, and then when it jumped back up, ready to literally tear our damn heads off, he used the broken piece and jammed it through the thing’s skull, killing it. There were some in the restaurant too, but I don’t think you want to know the details about it.”
“I don’t know if you can kill those things, Greg. I mean, I’m pretty sure they are already dead. There’s something that keeps them going, and I hope to God the government is smart enough to figure it out.”
Ellie whispered, “I’d be happy if they just come up with something that keeps us from turning if one of those freaks bites us.”
Shaun rubbed her shoulder. “Nothing is going to get you, Ellie. Not as long as I am around to stop it.”
Clary mistook the kind words for comradery, not realizing that this was the start of a love that would last, at least in some way, forever. Aslin drove down the street, where the majority of the horde was, and pulled a U-turn. Clary took the rag that had the fresh blood on it, spread the wound, and let the handkerchief soak up more blood. Clary hit the top of the cab, letting Aslin know to start the truck moving. The wind blew across the handkerchief, taking the scent of his fresh blood down the street. Slowly, one by one, the Turned started to notice it and looked at the truck.