by Mark Clodi
Today Andy was slow. He knew something was wrong, but he also knew he couldn't go home. His mom was on what his dad called a 'bender'. Andy didn't understand what a bender was. To him it was just a cartoon character from a show he rarely got to watch. Lately his mom seemed to do more and more 'benders'. His mom and dad were separated and it looked like Andy would be getting a new dad, Vick. Vick was a new arrival in the last two days and was a bit odd.
The man had brought Andy to a park and left him there alone to play last night, saying something about picking him up later. It was the first time Andy had been left unsupervised in a public park in his life, and was quite terrifying for the boy. He had played okay until it grew dark, then some teenagers had shown up. They seemed genuinely concerned that Andy was there alone and he had heard them arguing whether to go or stay. Andy had the idea they only stuck around because he was there. Things had only gotten bad when the homeless guy showed up.
The man was a mess and he smelled, frankly, a little bit like Andy's mom had been smelling lately. The guy had made a beeline for where Andy was sitting on the swings and grabbed for the boy. Confused, Andy didn't know what was happening and let out a scream. The teens, still close by, jumped on the old man and the group of them had fallen together onto the sandy ground by the swing. During the scuffle Andy's arm had been pressed up tight against the old man's mouth, the teens had stopped the old man from biting Andy more than once, but once was more than a enough for the terrified boy. Wriggling away from the mass of fighting teens Andy had crawled to one side where he was panting and crying. The teens yelled at him to run and get help.
Andy was not too far from his house, and thought he could make it home, even in the dark, so he took off running. He had never ran so far at once before and, when he arrived, all thought of calling for help were smacked out of him by his mother, who cursed him for running off without telling her. Vick was nowhere to be seen. After a peanut butter sandwich and a short call to his dad to say goodnight Andy was ushered off to bed where he slept like a log.
This morning he had been awoken twenty minutes after eight by his irate mother, she pulled him out of bed and yelled at him to get dressed because he was going to be late for school and she was going to miss work again. Complaining that he didn't feel good earned him a light tap from his mother's bare foot and the admonishment that he 'better not get sick today' because she didn't have any more time off at work to come get him. With that in mind, Andy tried to look healthy so the teachers wouldn't send him to the nurse who would call his mom and get him in trouble.
Naturally, at recess, tag started. Ryan always tagged Andy, if he could. The boys were best friends and that was how things worked. Running after his friend, it felt to Andy like he was wading through a lake, his feet sticking in the muddy bottom, and his legs making their way through water up to his thighs. He was doggedly pursuing his friend and made it to the top of the walled 'fort' where he almost got his buddy before he fell over and started frothing at the mouth.
“Don't fall for it! He is playing so we get close, then he will tag you!” yelled Ryan. The other children screamed and laughed at that and slid down the slides or climbed down to make good their escape while Andy frothed his last. Eventually the children giggled their way back to the top of the fort to see what Andy was doing. Ryan was the first, of course. He knew all of Andy's tricks and felt confident he could get away from his friend if he had to. But Andy didn't move. Ryan slowly crept forward, then jerked back when Andy slowly started to get up.
“I knew he was faking!” Ryan turned to go up a step to get on the slide and ran into Susie Sparks, who had climbed up the slide and was coming out of the small opening that led to it. Bumping heads, both children fell backwards, Susie tilted and fell through the opening where the slide was and went down it head first on her back, screaming the entire way. Ryan ended up on his behind with his back to Andy. Rubbing his head and trying not to cry, Ryan yelled out that common cry for mercy among grade school-aged children, “Time out!”
Andy wrapped his arms around Ryan and the boy yelled again, “I said time out! My head hurts!”
Then Andy bit into Ryan's neck, and the screaming started in earnest.
Down on the playground the supervisor was nowhere to be seen. She had discretely left for the bathroom to finish up her session with her boyfriend. The kids were wild, but basically harmless and she knew she could deal with any of their 'little' emergencies when she returned. As the children's screaming reached a peak, the supervisor did too, leaving her oblivious to the fact that something was very wrong. There were, however, other teachers who grew concerned at the yelling and rose from their classrooms to check on the children. Looking out the teachers saw the kids screaming unusually loud and running around in a game of tag. The gym teacher went so far as to open his classroom door and yell out for the kids to quiet down because they were getting too loud.
Back at the 'fort' Andy had moved on from Ryan and was now working on Vance, a dark haired older kid from the fifth grade who had tried to intervene in the 'fight' between the two younger boys. Vance's girlfriend, whom he had progressed to kissing only the day before, climbed up to see what Vance was doing. After all he should be paying attention to her, not some fight between first graders.
Sylvia reached the top and started screaming at what she saw, her boyfriend on his back with some little kid burrowing head first through his stomach. In her screaming she raised one hand to point at the boys, and it was that arm that Ryan latched onto and bit down on as he revived. The children with enough sense ran to the school building for protection. Those with more sense ran home. Ben was lucky enough to be the first to bite into the playground supervisor when she returned to the schoolyard.
Ten in Billions
Angel is in a drive thru.
'They always fuck you in the drive thru.' thought Angel, stuck in the very same spot he had been only ten minutes before, when he drove through the first time. The fast food joint had failed to give him any fries with his order and he had only come here for the fries, the burgers were substandard at best, greasy and tasteless. But the fries! They made up for the grease-ball burgers any day of the week.
“God fucking damn it! What is taking them so long?” Angel did not have time for this delay. He had to be back to his shift in fifteen minutes, barely enough time with the drive alone. Instead of going into the building to complain he had thought going back through the drive through would be faster, not to mention more convenient. Ahead of him the cars were not moving at all. In fact they hadn't moved in a good three minutes. Looking in the rear view mirror he saw only the grill of a huge pickup truck behind him. Ahead he could see the tinted glass of the sports utility vehicle. Both ahead and behind the vehicles were on his bumpers, so getting out of line was not an option. Not to mention where would he go? Over the curb and into the ditch? No he was stuck and his supervisor, Morgan 'the bitch' Kelly, the woman with two first names, three if you counted 'bitch', was going to have a piece of his ass when he got back. Not that he would mind getting a piece of hers; rumor had it she was easy and she had been unusually attentive to him lately...
“Let's go damn it!” Angel yelled out of his rolled down window. He gave his horn a honk and the only response was an arm that stuck out of the vehicle ahead of him with the middle finger raised. Angel thought that deserved a response, but he was not about to bump either vehicle with his. It would be his fault and he did not have auto insurance, a minor crime in his state, but he would rather pay a fine than an insurance company. So instead he laid on the horn and let it blare for a good twenty seconds. The arm disappeared and he thought he saw the window ahead of him slide up.
“Take that, bitch!” he yelled, channeling his anger and frustrations from his life into the woman ahead of him. He was about to yell another creative comment to the woman ahead of him when the man slammed into the passenger side of his car. Startled, Angel yelled, “What the fuck man! Disgusting!” The man had left a slimy s
mear of mucus from his mouth on the window and was still pawing at the car with his hands and head. “Get the fuck off the glass asshole!”
The man didn't respond to Angel's comment. He kept trying to break through. Angel opened his car door and yelled again, “Get the fuck away from my car dick head! I fucking mean it I will.....” His voice trailed off as he saw others behind the man, a slow, creeping mob of men, women and children wading through the low ditch coming right at him. Hopping back in the car he slammed the door shut and started rolling up his window.
Now he was honking in fear, he put his car in reverse and tried to back up, only to hit the truck behind him. Angel saw the man angrily get out of his truck and stalk towards him, only to be blindsided by one of the men in the mob. Watching in the side view mirror Angel saw the man biting the guy on the ground. Soon the biter was joined by more people from the mob who tore apart the truck guy's body.
The thumping on his window continued. A scream forced Angel's head away from the side view mirror to focus on the vehicle ahead of him, where two middle aged women were dragging the bitch ahead of him from her driver's side door. 'She left her door open? Fucking idiot!' he thought, then sheepishly hit the auto lock on his doors. The thumping on the window was joined by more thumps and banging as others from the mob surrounded Angel's car. Soon he was surrounded by people slowly beating on his car with their hands. That is when the fear finally kicked in. Slowly Angel engaged the gears and moved the car forward, it only went a couple of feet and broke the legs of one of the people in the mob. He worked his car backward, trying to get it free from between the two other vehicles. Going over the curb through the ditch suddenly seemed like a really good idea.
A half hour later his car was wedged tightly at a diagonal between the two cars, going nowhere. All Angel had succeeded in doing was setting off his air bags and giving himself a bloody nose. During the final, aggressive push with his vehicle something had snapped with a loud noise under the hood of the car. His engine was still running, but the car wouldn't move anymore.
“I am going to be eaten by zombies.” Angel said to himself. “I don't want to be eaten by zombies.” He wished he had remembered to charge his cell phone last night so he could call someone for help. The phone had died halfway through his shift at work this morning and now he was just stuck waiting for someone to rescue him. So far the zombies had not been able to get in, they didn't seem to be able to break through the windows. All he had to do was wait, someone should arrive to get him out.
No one did.
Eleven in Billions
Just another night in a small town
Becky had been dreading work tonight, making the pizzas was a bad job even on a night like Tuesday, but on a Friday night when half the town had been paid? It would be hell. Plus with so many people sick with the flu no one wanted to cook dinner for their brats. Becky arrived at four to start her shift and had started setting out balls of half-frozen dough. This wasn't her first Friday night. She and her co-worker, Josh, would normally make up twenty five pizzas with just cheese to start with. They could add other ingredients later; every pizza started as 'cheese' and was upgraded from there.
"Hey Sarah, when is Josh getting in?" Becky called to the clerk working the cash register.
"He called in, has the flu stuff."
"What? Who is coming in to help out?"
"It is just me and you, I’m short too, Tom called off last night and I haven't heard from him all day."
"No call, no show, no job." said Becky, parroting her boss, who was never around on a busy night. "Can you call Jennifer and see if she can get someone else in?"
"Can't get a hold of her. She is probably out too. I've been here since noon and I’m not thrilled to be closing; that's almost twelve hours. It has been slow though, I think we'll be okay."
The door chime went off and a police officer came in. "Evening Becky."
"Hi, Dad! Anything going on yet?" In a small town on a Friday night something was always going to 'go on', whether any of it resulted in charges had more to do with Becky's father, Mike, than the laws of the state.
"Naw, way too early. There’s hardly even any traffic yet. You comp me a fountain drink?" the older man asked, moving towards the array of soda dispensers.
"You know it!" This was one expense Jennifer had never argued with. She told all the workers that police ate and drank any non-liquor items for free, just to write down what they took. Becky didn't even write down the fountain drink, just like she wouldn't write down if her dad took a hot dog or donut, it was only the packaged food Jennifer cared about.
"Hey, Becky. They got you working by yourself tonight?"
"Josh called in sick."
"I thought he was better than that. On a Friday night too. I might swing by there, see if he is just milking it or really down with something."
"That'd scare him good!" Becky said, grinning, "He is probably really sick. His sister was out of school yesterday.” Becky was a senior in high school- Sarah was two years older than her, but so far had not made the jump to an 'out of town' job.
"Well I might go check anyway, just to be sure they are okay. Is Jennifer not around either?" Mike asked frowning. "I don't much like the idea of the two of you working here by yourselves."
"Da-ad! We'll be fine."
"Alright, if you’re sure. I might go by Jennifer's place too."
"Dad, we'll handle it."
"Alright sweetie. You two take care of yourselves, I'll be in and out all night and if you have any problems, even too many food orders or something like that, you just call me on my cell. I'll get something figured out, even if I have to bring Josh in here puking his guts up."
"Okay, thanks daddy!" said Becky.
Mike pushed his way out the front door and Sarah heard him say, "Hey! What are you doing by my car, get away from there!"
Coming out of the kitchen area Becky asked, "What's going on?" Sarah had a better view from where she was, but Mike had parked by the side of the building and she couldn't see anything either.
"I'm gonna go check." said the older woman, coming around the counter and heading for the front door. The bell went off again as the door opened and that made the gunshots sound even more louder back near where Becky was standing.
The girl jumped six inches and screamed, and then rushed by Sarah to push through the door. "Daddy?"
“Get back inside, Becky! Call the county sheriff!”
A long wailing started from outside mixed in with babbling and crying. Becky rushed to the doorway and saw her father holding his gun on a man on the ground. The man was on the sidewalk at the front of the store. Another man, with blood streaming from his neck was standing by the side of her father’s patrol car.
“Get down on the ground now!” Mike yelled at the t-shirt clad man beside his car. The man in front was screaming and clutching his stomach. There was a handgun lying near the building, still in arms reach of him.
“Wh-what happened?” Sarah stammered.
“Get back inside now and call the sheriff!” The man near Mike’s patrol car was not getting down. He lurched over to the man on the ground and pawed him.
“Down on the ground!” Mike yelled again. The man in the black shirt finally dropped, right on the other man, who moaned and put out one hand towards the pistol.
“Son, don’t do it!”
The gut shot man ignored Mike and reached again for the pistol. In front of his daughter, Mike carefully aimed and put a bullet through the man’s head. The dead man’s hand clutched convulsively and then curled and dropped to the concrete.
“You! Get off of him. Now!” Mike said in a somewhat calmer voice.
The man in the black t-shirt didn’t listen. His head moved up and down on the other man’s stomach. Mike stepped forward and kicked the pistol further down the sidewalk away from both men, then knelt and pointed his gun at the still moving man. “I said, stop what you are doing and move over. This is your last warning.”
&n
bsp; The man didn’t move. Mike quickly holstered his gun and pulled out his can of pepper spray. He dosed the man on the back of the neck and his arms. The man ignored Mike completely. Stepping back to avoid any of the spray that might be in the air, Mike spared a moment to yell at the wide eyed girls one more time. Sarah grabbed Becky’s arm and pulled her back into the store. Sobbing, Sarah rushed to the phone and dialed the police.
Outside Mike circled the t-shirt clad man and grabbed him by the ankles. With a heave he pulled the men apart. The man he had pulled didn’t fight, but immediately started to scramble back towards the corpse in front of him.
“Oh no you don’t!” Mike said. He jumped on the man’s back and held him down, twisting the guy’s arm back to cuff it. Mike had the man’s other hand almost cuffed when he caught sight of the dead man’s stomach, a trail of intestines led from the rent in the man’s stomach to mouth of the man he was handcuffing. The thin, spindly guts looked like a thick strand of noodles covered with bluish-red marinara sauce. The coppery tang of blood and the sour smell of half-digested food that Mike want to retch.
Despite the distraction Mike cuffed the suspect and rolled him over violently to see if what he suspected was true. The man’s eyes were opaque and trailing from his mouth was a strand of intestines. As Mike watched the other guy bit down, chewed and swallowed another mouthful. The end of the pale tube of flesh fell out of his mouth as he chewed. The man turned and tried to roll over and continue eating, but Mike pulled him further away.
“Stop it.” Mike said, but his voice had fallen to a soft whisper of sound.