by Steven Till
It was nice to know that their current tactical situation wasn’t lost on his friend. Ever since he caught Ronnie gnawing on that arm, he worried that his cognitive function might start to slip.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Nathan whispered. “You see that bar over there to our right?”
Ronnie followed his gaze to the small dive bar only twenty feet away.
“Yeah, I gotcha homes.”
The advancing dead gained ground, but remained steady in their pace. If they went now, they’d be able to make it to the bar.
“Alright, on the count of three, we bolt,” Nathan instructed. “One. Two. Three.”
The instant he uttered the last number, the pair jolted into a flurry of action. The approaching zombies immediately sprang to life, closing the distance between them and the duo. Nathan and Ronnie reached the door to the bar and gave the knob a turn. Locked. Firming up his grip on the handle, he tried again and applied more pressure. The locking mechanism inside the knob crumbled at the strength Nathan exerted and the latch gave way.
They piled into the empty bar and closed the door behind them. Ronnie ran to a giant jukebox which sat against the wall close by while Nathan braced the door with his body. A moment later, dozens of the dead slammed upon the bar door, jolting him forward. Ronnie slid the jukebox over to the door, plowing tables and chairs aside in the process. Nathan spun out of the way as the heavy jukebox slammed up against the entrance.
“This ain’t gonna keep ‘em out for long, brotha,” Ronnie noted.
Nathan looked over the door, searching. Then, relief struck as he saw a slew of various locks at the top and bottom of the door. He threw the deadbolts and chain-locks in place, six in all. He also looked to see if there were any windows along the storefront and thankfully, there were none.
“Jesus Christ, it’s about time we catch a break!” Nathan gasped as the pair stood and caught their breath as the growing mob of decay outside assaulted the little hole-in-the-wall pub.
The unmistakable click of a handgun sounded behind them. Nathan dropped his head and sighed.
“Aw, fuck.”
PART III
THE GREAT ESCAPE
CHAPTER 27 GOTCHA
Sunshine stood high above the Fort Pitt Tunnel entrance. Images danced before her eyes. An empty street. A soldier. Blood—so much blood. And two men, surrounded on all sides by her children. They had found her target. The pictures flashed before her like a high speed camera. The two soon-to-be captives made their way towards a nearby building, managed to get the door open, and escaped their pursuers.
Bodies amassed in front of the door, filling the street. Her children scaled the walls of the building, probing for a way inside. Flickering firelight from the burning wreckage caused the building to appear as though it were breathing; the dead undulated up the sides in rippling waves. The refuge that her mark had found would only provide a temporary reprieve from the inevitable onslaught that was about to ensue. She would finally have her prize.
CHAPTER 28 WAITING FOR THE MOON
The little dog ran through the blistery cold. The light snow that was falling upon the ruined earth pelted him in the face as he sped on. The moon above was getting higher. Boomer kept an eye on the moon at all times, waiting for his cue to cross the river. His breathing labored, as he had been running almost nonstop since leaving his home hours earlier. If it weren’t for the bad-smelling people who were hurting all the normal people, he could have made it to Master much faster, but he had to be careful and clever.
He let out a whimper as he ran. He got a bad feeling at that moment. One of those instinctual feelings that animals tend to get. He could feel that Master was in trouble and scared. That strange voice that had talked to him in his head had told him that he needed to help his Master and this feeling had solidified his resolve. He also wondered if he would ever hear that voice again. It was strange to him, but seemed familiar on some level.
Boomer was exhausted, but he didn’t dare stop to rest, for fear that he would fail Master. He loved his human with all his little puppy heart and the thought of losing him made him whimper again. No, now was not the time to rest. That time would come once he found Master. The loyal dog continued on his unknown journey, watching the moon and waiting for it to tell him his next move.
CHAPTER 29 LORRAINE
The click of the pistol caused both zombies to give a collective sigh. All they wanted was to get a break from the train-wreck of a day that they've had. Slowly, they both turned to face the new threat behind them, raising their hands above their heads, again.
Looking back at them with terrified eyes, an older woman in her fifties stood there pointing a rather large revolver at them. Her hands were shaking so violently, you could swap the gun for a fork and let her scramble eggs on autopilot. Nathan sensed that the gun was going to fire at any moment.
“Look lady, we aren’t going to hurt you, I promise. I know this looks bad, but I beg you to put the gun down so that we can explain our unfortunate situation,” he told the woman.
Now the woman’s bingo-fat-laden arms were jiggling, as she struggled to keep the barrel centered on Nathan’s head. Her eyes shifted between the two hostages. After a long pause, her gaping mouth finally started to form words. “You brought all those things here! We were safe until you showed up!” she spit out.
Taking quick stock of the small pub, Nathan detected at least four more bodies huddled behind the bar. The woman must have sensed that he knew where the others were and took a step forward, stretching the gun outward in a more provoking manner.
“Whoa, lady, like I said, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Nathan wished his zombie voice didn’t sound so distorted and well, terrifying. It made calming the woman down damn near impossible. He raised his hands a little higher and took a cautious step towards the woman and stopped.
“Those things out there are after us too. We’re all on the same team here, okay? All we need is a way out of here and we’ll be gone before you know it,” he continued.
The woman narrowed her eyes, sizing up the two dead men who stood before her. The gun lowered ever so slightly and didn’t seem to be shaking quite as much. “This is a trick, isn’t it? You sweet talk me into letting my guard down and then you eat my brains the moment I turn my back to you!”
“Lady, if we wanted to eat your brains, we’d already be drinking them out of your skull,” Ronnie blurted out.
Nathan grimaced in frustration at the rebuttal. The woman’s terror renewed and the gun snapped back up, this time pointing towards Ronnie’s face. He just stood there and smiled at her, his teeth stained with the blood of rats and city chicken. This of course, caused some serious setbacks in their negotiation.
“I must apologize for my friend here,” Nathan said. “We’ve really had a shitty day and could use a bit of good luck.”
The woman moved her sights back onto him, but kept a suspicious eye on Ronnie.
“I give you my word that we are not here to harm you and I promise that if there’s a way out of this building, we will be out of here immediately.”
The three stood there in the middle of the bar in a silent tension. Nathan took a gamble and made another miniscule, slow and deliberate step towards the woman.
“What’s your name, darling?” he asked. “What should I call you?”
“Lorraine,” the woman replied after a moment’s hesitation.
“Hello Lorraine, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Nathan and my idiot friend here is Ronnie.” Another small step forward.
Lorraine dropped her guard a little and the gun came down, now pointing to his groin. She seemed to be unaware of where the barrel pointed, but Nathan sure noticed.
“I sincerely apologize for barging in here like we did, but we were short on options and didn’t have time to knock,” he said in the best calming tone he could gurgle out. Another small, cautious step forward. Lorraine now stood a mere five feet away.
“I must com
mend you on surviving this long. Those things outside have been scouring the area for us, searching every building and car. I’m amazed that they haven't found you yet,” he said, trying to be as conversational as possible.
The revolver lowered a little more, much to his relief. Regenerative powers or not, getting his junk blown into oblivion was not an option. He took another small step towards Lorraine. She looked pretty conflicted at the fact that one of the horrors from outside was now standing right in front of her talking eloquently.
“I would also like to thank you for not shooting us, Lorraine,” Nathan said as he continued his diplomacy. “Even though we appear to be sort of dead, it still doesn’t feel good to get shot.” He made another shuffle towards Lorraine, his hands still raised high over his head.
As luck would have it, the bar was a sports bar and had a rack which hung from the ceiling. On this rack, the barkeep had arranged several Pittsburgh Steelers football helmets on it. Of course, none of them were secured to the rack very well. The moment he took his last move towards Lorraine, Nathan's long claws bumped the shoddy rack, toppling the helmets onto the barroom floor. The commotion shattered what little calmness he had been able to instill in Lorraine and the pistol rocketed back to attack position.
“NO WAIT!” Nathan screamed, but his yell came out more like a drowning ferret, not to mention, too late.
Lorraine squeezed the trigger of her much-too-big-for-her gun and sent a large bullet screaming through the air. It tore into Nathan’s shoulder; shattering bone and shredding muscle and tendons before it blew out an apple-sized hole through his back.
His instincts took over. In an instant, he leaped at the immediate danger. Before the woman got another shot off, his razor-sharp claws swooshed down, severing Lorraine's arm just above the elbow. Before her forearm, which still held the gun, hit the floor, he backhanded the woman, sending her across the bar and onto a pool table. Her screams echoed throughout the building and out into the street, which threw the horde of the dead into an even bigger frenzy.
“JESUS CHRIST! Why does everybody feel the need to fucking shoot me??!!”
“Ha! Dinner time!” Ronnie exclaimed
“No! Remember, we can’t eat them,” Nathan said.
Disappointment washed over Ronnie’s face. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that all that blood has made me hungry.”
Nathan steadied himself and tried to regain his composure. His newest wound had already begun to heal as bone fragments ejected and new bone, tendon, and muscle wove new structures. Lorraine’s wails and sobs played a morbid soundtrack to the violence that had just transpired. He glanced over at the bar and could see the glowing aura of the other humans, huddled so close together they appeared to him to be one big glowing blob.
He hated himself for hurting the old woman, but honestly, he was really getting tired of being shot. Things needed to start moving along; it was only a matter of time before the Horde found a way inside. Ronnie eyeballed Lorraine like a veal cutlet. In Ronnie’s defense though, Nathan couldn’t help but feel a strong pang of hunger as Lorraine’s blood oozed down his cheek.
He jumped up onto the bar in a single leap and perched like a vulture on the edge, looking down at the humans who had just heard the whole negotiation go sour.
“Alright folks, I know you’re all scared, but she didn’t give me a choice. She blew a hole in me the size of Texas and well, that kind of hurt and now I’m more than a little bit pissed off. So, unless you would like me to feed you nice people to my hungry friend over there, I suggest someone starts being helpful and points us to the nearest exit.”
The huddled group stared back at him with wide, saucer-like eyes as they observed the gaping hole in his shoulder close up. Then, a man of about thirty stood up bravely from the bunch and extended his hand. “My name is Ricky.”
The fact that this guy was trying to shake his hand shocked Nathan. He had to give the guy credit, the man had balls. “Well, Ricky, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he replied. He reached out his own hand and enfolded Ricky’s with his wicked talons.
Ricky’s reaction was clear as he began to sweat like Niagara Falls and his heart rate spiked through the roof. He watched as the monstrous claw closed around his palm. His eyes looked up to meet Nathan’s, which were anything but comforting. All he could see in them was a glossy red reflection of himself. A bloody grin stretched across the zombie’s face. The corners of his mouth split, as if his mouth had opened too wide and had torn the skin.
Nathan released his grip on Ricky’s hand. “I assume that you stood up because you are able to help us escape?” he asked.
“Yes...Yes sir,” Ricky replied. “There’s a door that leads to the back alley and there’s the front door...”
“Now Ricky, I’m sure you’re aware that this building is literally crawling with thousands of things that look like me, right?” Nathan interrupted.
“Um...Yes...” the young man managed to whimper.
“And you also realize that the only way you and your companions are going to live is if my friend and I leave, right?”
This sobering statement seem to jog Ricky’s memory somewhat, because his face lit up with an idea. “OH! I almost forgot about the secret passage!” he exclaimed.
“Whuft pheakwret paffage?” Ronnie asked.
Both Nathan and Ricky turned to Ronnie, who was munching away on Lorraine’s severed arm, the hand dangling down pointing the revolver towards the floor.
“DROP IT!” Nathan yelled at him.
Like before, Ronnie realized what he was doing and dropped the bloody appendage like it was the plague. “Awww, shit dude, I fucking did it again!” he exclaimed, disgusted with himself. “Now I’m gonna go get all stupid.”
“Well, if you keep eating everybody you will,” he replied.
After staring at his friend for a long moment to make sure he did in fact leave the arm alone, he turned back around to Ricky, who looked mortified by Ronnie’s snack. “You were saying, about the secret passage?”
“Uh...Oh...Yeah, there’s a trap-door in the back room that leads to a sub-basement,” Ricky started, not taking his eyes off of Ronnie. “There’s a metal door on the far side of the sub-basement. I’m not sure where it goes, but I know that it will take you out of here.”
“Thank you, Ricky. You’ve been extremely helpful.” Nathan looked over at the old woman who was now bleeding out and unconscious on the pool table. “Oh, you may want to tend to your friend over there. She’s not looking well.”
He hopped off his perch on the bar and walked towards the door leading to the back room. “C’mon buddy, let’s get the hell out of here.”
The two zombies left the main bar area and moved into the back room, closing the door behind them. They searched the floor and finally found the trap door that Ricky had mentioned. It was small, not larger than two feet square, and sat in a dark corner of the room. It wasn’t easy to spot, so that would buy them some time should the Horde breach the bar.
Ronnie pulled the door open and peered down into the dark. “Looks clear, bro.”
“You alright?” Nathan asked his friend.
“Yeah, bro. I’m good. How ‘bout you? How’s the shoulder?”
“Good as new I guess,” he answered, rotating his arm as if he needed to prove it.
A scream sounded out in the bar. “OH MY GOD, SHE’S ONE OF THEM! SHE FUCKING TURNED INTO ONE OF THEM,” someone shouted. Another person screamed, then a gun fired. A loud crash followed and then more screaming. “HOLY FUCK, THE OLD BITCH BIT ME! WHAT THE...? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DON’T POINT THAT THING AT ME? I’M NOT ONE OF THEM...” Another gunshot ended that.
Nathan looked at his claws and saw the small grooves that ran down the top of each spur. Upon closer inspection, he saw a thin line of thick, sticky liquid seeping out at the bulbous knob where his fingernail had been. Toxin. Nathan hadn’t even noticed that his hands were now just as lethal as his mouth. Now he felt horrible about hacking of
f Lorraine’s arm. He didn’t want to hurt the woman and he certainly didn’t want to infect her.
The commotion out in the bar was escalating even further, so the two friends decided that they had overstayed their welcome. Taking one last look at the bar door, they took turns jumping down into the sub-basement below, Nathan closing the trap door behind him.
CHAPTER 30 GESUNDHEIT
Pete leaned against the wall behind the checkout counter and observed the motley crew of survivors. Bill assumed his usual position, hunched over the counter immersed in whatever graphic novel he happened to be infatuated with at the time. He looked at the nine new additions to their little family at the good old sin shop.
When the group arrived at the store, they caused quite a ruckus, but luckily, there hadn’t been any of those creatures in the area. All eight of the survivors on the bus had piled into the bookstore en mass, followed by Sam and his neighbor Evelyn, who was pretty damn hot in Pete’s opinion. Upon their arrival, one of the bus riders, a huge, hulk of a man stayed by the door and kept watch for any zombies that may have heard them arrive.
Once the adrenaline began to wane, the group settled into an uneasy stupor. Most of them just sat on the floor, still weirded-out by the myriad of adult entertainment that permeated throughout their new stronghold. Others paced between the aisles, wondering what their next move would be.
Sam walked in from the back room and addressed the group, finally breaking the awkward silence that hung in the air. “Alright everybody, let’s get to know each other a little bit, since it looks like we’re going to be together for quite a while.”
People turned to pay attention to Sam, who had now moved from behind the counter to better engage his new friends. “My name’s Sam everyone and yes, I own this establishment and no, I’m not some kind of pervert. This shop was started by my brother Byron way back in the mid-70s. He was a paranoid asshole who whole-heartedly believed that the world was gonna end. Lucky for us, he stockpiled the basement with food and ammo. When that old bastard died five years ago, he left this shithole to me in his will. To be honest, the only reason I keep the place open is because there are a lot of horned-up, kinky assholes in this town and I end up making a shit-ton of money, so here we are.”