Zombiekill

by Russ Watts

  “Rilla? What the fuck are you doing out here? How did you get out?” Tad knew that there was no way Butcher would just let her go.

  “I slipped past him when he wasn’t looking. I couldn’t wait anymore. It’s you I want. It’s always been you.”

  Tad couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You got past Butcher to come and find me? Far out.” Tad could see the outline of the mansion behind the girl, and wondered if this wasn’t some sort of test or trick the others were playing. “Bullshit. I bet Butcher put you up to this.”

  “Well, if you don’t want me.” Charlie turned and began walking away from the annex. She kept to the shadows and headed for the protective canopy of an old oak tree.

  “Wait, hold on,” said Tad. If he did what Butcher had told him to do, then he would spend the next hour wiping up blood and bits of dead bodies. Rilla had come to him. To him. She was cute, and Butcher would never know. Tad could just say he found her out here and take her back to the house when he was through with her. Tad rushed outside and saw the girl standing beneath the tree. “Just hold on a moment.”

  Tad raced to the upper floor and control panel from where he turned out the lights and locked the doors. Then he quickly jogged back down and headed straight for his prize. It was dark under the tree, far too dark to see properly, and he kept his gun in his hand just in case this was a trick. Park of him couldn’t believe it yet he wanted to. There was no sign of the others, and he didn’t know how long he would have before they came looking for her. The girl held nothing in her hands and was offering herself to him. Perhaps this wouldn’t be such a bad evening after all.

  “Rilla?”

  The girl was facing the tree, her back to him. He put a hand on her shoulder and slid it down to her hip.

  Charlie shuddered inwardly. She had half expected to be dragged in to face Butcher, but it looked as if this man was either drunk or stupid. It was almost too easy. When she felt his hand on her hip she knew she didn’t have long. She could try to grab the gun off him but it was too risky, plus she didn’t want to make too much noise, not just yet. She flexed her neck.

  “Take me. Now.”

  The gun in her back disappeared, and then she felt his warm breath on her neck. Both his hands cupped her breasts and his mouth kissed her bare shoulder. Charlie smiled as she let the cord unravel from her left hand. It had been coiled up, hidden from view, and as the man began to squeeze her breasts she gasped.

  “Wait.”

  Charlie stepped out of Tad’s embrace and turned around. She stepped forward, and a tiny sliver of faint light from the house hit her face.

  Tad saw the red lips and blue eyes, but it didn’t register in his brain that it wasn’t Rilla until he caught a glimpse of the short blonde hair. “Wait, you’re—”

  Knowing that he was off guard and the gun was tucked into his pants, Charlie swiftly wrapped the cord around Tad’s neck and jumped around to stand behind him. Both ends of the cord were wrapped around her wrists so there was no chance she might lose her grip, and she pulled it together tightly.

  Tad tried to slip his fingers underneath the cord around his neck, but he was too slow, and couldn’t even get a single finger underneath. He gurgled and stumbled forward. Charlie went with him, all the while pulling the cord tighter and tighter. Tad fell to his knees and continued to try to get the cord away from his neck, but it was strangling him, taking away all of his breath. He tried to get more air into his lungs but it was impossible.

  Charlie leant over Tad, her warm breath on the back of his neck. “The only thing that’s going to be fucked around here is you.” Charlie gritted her teeth and pulled the cord so it was completely tense. She could feel Tad’s body trembling as he fought her, and even though her arms ached she was not about to let go. The length of cord that she had brought with her from Kyler’s garage was strong and wouldn’t break. It was like an anaconda wrapped around the man’s neck, and there was no way out for him. He had killed for the last time. He was fighting, and Charlie struggled to stay on her feet, but the more he fought her, the harder she pulled the cord. In the darkness, she could do whatever she wanted to.

  Tad’s eyes bulged out, and as his body went limp, Charlie kept hold of the cord. She could feel spit and blood dripping from his mouth over her fingers, but she wanted to make sure he was dead. She wanted to know he wasn’t going to get up again, and so she let the cord begin to cut into his skin until it felt like she was going to pull his head off. The man’s legs kicked feebly and then there was nothing. When she finally let go, Tad’s body slumped forward against the oak tree. Charlie stood there panting, staring at him. She dropped the cord and bent over the body. There was no breath coming from his mouth, and she retrieved the gun from his belt. It was still too early to use it. Soon the man would be back up and walking around, but she would deal with that later. The living were far more dangerous. She plucked the hat from his head and put it on her own.

  “That’s mine.” Why did people think they could just take what they wanted? She had given up on understanding this new world. Her father had warned her of people like this. He had thought the answer might be to build a wall between the living and the dead; between those who had life and those who wanted it. But separating them was never going to work. Death was as much a part of life as anything, and no wall was going to stop it.

  Charlie nestled her back against the oak tree and looked at the house as she regained her breath. Two left. Butcher and Conan. If Attwood was still around, then he was keeping a low profile. He would keep. Who was next was really just who came out first looking for this one. She didn’t care who she killed next. It was just a means to an end. Kyler would be pleased with her. She had thought he was insane spending all that time readying for a fight. All along he had been right. The world was a different place now. When it came to them and us, it wasn’t the walking corpses he was talking about.

  Charlie headed back to the sedan, intending to check on Rilla, when she saw movement from the house. A figure came out, and Charlie darted behind the pickup truck. She needed whoever it was to get much closer to her. She wasn’t sure if they were armed, either, and couldn’t afford to take any chances. Holding the gun down at her side, she waited to see what direction they headed for. The figure seemed to pause and think before heading for the cars. She had hoped they would go for the annex. That way they would get ahead of her, and she could take them out from behind. A clean shot in the back of the head would do it. But if they came to the parked vehicles, they might find Rilla. That would complicate things.

  The footsteps got closer, and Charlie peered around the edge of the truck. It was Conan. The size of him seemed even bigger than she remembered. He looked like a sumo wrestler except his bulk was all muscle and no fat.

  “Yo, Tad, you fucking around out here? What’re you doing? We’ve cleaned up inside, so if you’re done out here we’ll get to work on the girl.”

  Confrontation used to scare her. Charlie would shy away from arguments, and even when Jackson had dumped her she had let him off easy. Kyler had told her as much. She had lost her head when it had fallen apart. So much had happened since then that she had to stop herself from bursting out laughing. Remembering how she used to be felt like a dream. She had gone from nothing, from an ordinary girl, to standing outside a millionaire’s mansion holding a gun having just killed two people. Charlie smiled and stepped out from behind the truck and pointed Tad’s gun at Conan.

  “Hold it.”

  Conan had been about to discover Rilla in the sedan, and it seemed like now was as good a time as any. It wouldn’t make any difference now if she made some noise. She needed to anyway, and shooting Conan dead in cold blood just as he had Jeremy would be fitting.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Conan pulled at his white goatee with curiosity. There was no sense of fear in his voice. He stared at Charlie. “How did you... what did you do with Tad?”

  Charlie smiled sweetly. “Tad? He’s a little short of br
eath right now. Don’t worry. He’ll be up on his feet soon. He’s just another of those walking zombies now, just like you.”

  Charlie pulled the trigger and the gun clicked. Nothing happened. She pulled it again and still nothing happened.

  Conan grinned. “Empty, bitch.”

  He charged at her, and Charlie had only a split second to decide what to do. Tad’s gun was a dud, for show only. Just like the man himself; all style and no substance. Charlie knew she could stay and fight, but the man was like a giant, and overpowering him would be virtually impossible. The other option was to run, but she hated that option. She really hated running now; hated turning away from a fight. She had to take a long-term view, though, and knew if she could lose him in the darkness she could regain the advantage. Charlie turned on her heels and ran into the darkness away from the house.

  Conan ran after her, his lumbering bulk sending tremors through the ground. “You’re dead, you know that?” he shouted, but the girl kept running. She was a stranger, and yet there was something about her blue eyes that was familiar. He felt like he had looked into those eyes before, but he couldn’t place them. It was irrelevant. He was going to beat her to a pulp and worry about it later. Nobody took a shot at him. He knew he was lucky the gun wasn’t loaded. The girl obviously didn’t know that either which made him wonder what she was doing here. If she had come to kill him, then why not bring a loaded gun?

  Tad.

  As Conan chased after her he realized she had gotten the gun off Tad. She had killed him and taken his gun except she hadn’t checked to see if it was actually loaded. It was just like that stupid fool to not carry a loaded weapon. The idiot fuck deserved what he got.

  They were in the gardens of the house now, and Charlie had no idea where she was going. She was leading him away from Rilla which was one of her aims, but she didn’t seem to be making much ground. She glanced around as she ran and could still see and hear the big man following her. He was surprisingly quick on his feet, and Charlie knew she was going to do well to give him the slip. The ground beneath her bare feet was soft, and her only advantage now was that she was dressed in black. Conan was still behind her, and she turned back to look for some place to hide when she suddenly hit something and went flying.

  The cooler spilled out warm water over the ground and Charlie screamed as she hit the dirt. With her face literally planted in the rose garden, Charlie grabbed the rose bush and ignored the sharp thorns that dug into her skin. Her shin was throbbing from where she had run straight into the cooler. Maybe running around in the dark hadn’t been such a good idea. As she got to her feet, she heard a moaning sound coming from above her.

  “What the hell?” Charlie couldn’t understand what she was looking at. The windows of the house didn’t give off enough light for her to see clearly out in the garden, but it looked like a huge cross. There appeared to be a man strung up on it, yet the sounds emitted from above her were not the sounds of a living man or even someone in pain. They were the sounds of the dead.

  “I see you met Attwood,” said Conan, as he planted a fist into Charlie’s face.

  Once more Charlie found herself falling and collapsing into a thorny rose bush. Her face felt like a freight train had slammed into it, and blood gushed from her nose. A rough hand grabbed her left arm, and she squealed in pain. In the darkness she heard laughter.

  “That hurt?” asked Conan, laughing and holding Charlie in front of him. There was no doubt she would drop like a stone if he didn’t support her.

  She looked at him through glazed eyes. The sucker punch to the side of the head had knocked her for six. The whole world was fuzzy. She knew enough. Conan had caught her. She also knew that Attwood had been caught in their web just like her. He was as dead as everyone else they came across.

  “What do you think, Attwood? Think I should let this bitch go?”

  Charlie heard the zombie moan, and then Conan punched her again. He caught her full in the face, and she went down clutching her head. Everything was spinning, and she was sure her nose was broken. The bone felt like it was shattered, and she wanted to close her eyes as the pain spread around her body. She couldn’t fight him. She couldn’t do it. She touched the silver pendant around her neck and let the blood spill from her mouth. He was going to kill her, and she couldn’t stop it. She felt Conan’s huge arms lift her to her feet again, and through swollen eyes, she looked at him.

  “Still standing, huh?” asked Conan. “Impressive.”

  Charlie spat and felt one of her teeth come loose with her tongue. She sucked and spat it out along with a mouthful of warm blood. “I’ll never give up,” she said quietly.

  “Is that so? You hear that Attwood? We got ourselves a fighter. Well, I don’t quit either. I’ve never shied away from a fight, and I’m not starting now. I could just shoot you but why spoil a good thing? I think a good old fashioned fist fight is what we both want, right?”

  Conan let go of Charlie and aimed his fist. The punch landed on her jaw, and yet again Charlie fell to the ground. Conan laughed and stood over her. “Come on. Get up. Get to your feet, and show me you’re a fighter.”

  Charlie’s head was full of concrete, her thoughts like cold soup. The gun was useless. Attwood was dead. She wanted to go home. She had taken too much for granted. She had taken her life for granted and thought she could defeat them all on her own, but she was wrong. She wanted to get vengeance for her father, but as she cradled her aching body on the soft wet ground she knew she had failed. The rain had petered out to nothing, and she was going to die alone.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” Charlie whimpered. Her body felt light and she waited for Conan to lift her to her feet just so that he could strike her again. He wouldn’t stop. He enjoyed it. He would keep going until he had beaten her senseless, and then he would keep going until she was just mulch for the roses. Charlie rolled onto her back and looked up at Conan. The crucified body of Attwood loomed over them both, and as Charlie looked up at Conan she began to laugh.

  Conan clenched his hands into fists. “What? You think dying is funny?”

  “No.” Charlie coughed and winced, wishing she had more painkillers on her. Kyler hadn’t told her how painful fighting could be. “I’m just looking forward to seeing the shock on your face when I kill you.”

  “I don’t think so.” Conan bent over Charlie. “I was going to save you for Butcher, but I think I’ll just kill you now.”

  CHAPTER 15

  When Rilla plunged the knife into Conan’s neck it took a moment for the realization he’s been struck to sink it. His expression turned from anger to curiosity, and as he was about to hit Charlie he faltered. He put a hand to his neck and touched Kyler’s fishing knife. The three-inch blade had penetrated his throat and only the very hilt remained exposed. Conan stumbled back, copious blood pouring from his open wound like an exposed oil well.

  “What the fuck?”

  Rilla picked up the discarded cooler and swung it round to smash Conan in the face. He finally went down in a heap at the base of the crucifix, and Rilla dropped the cooler to turn to Charlie.

  “Are you gonna be okay?” she asked, helping Charlie to her feet.

  Charlie swayed as she stood and put her weight on Rilla who slipped an arm around her waist. “I will be.” It hurt to think let alone speak. She didn’t know what a broken jaw felt like, but Conan had done his best to give her one. Her left eye had swollen shut, and her mouth kept filling with blood from where Conan had knocked her teeth out. “You should be in the car. I told you to wait.”

  “I might not be where you are, but I’m getting there. My parents made me strong, much stronger than what you’ve seen from me so far. I wasn’t about to let you do this on your own.”

  “Thanks,” whispered Charlie. She looked at Conan. He was injured, but he was far from dead. She had nothing left to kill him with except her bare hands. She could try to snap his neck, but she was shattered. The beating he had given her on top of the dog attack h
ad left her weak, and she wasn’t sure she had it in her.

  “We can’t leave him like this,” said Rilla, as if reading Charlie’s mind.

  “No, we can’t.” Charlie took a whistle out from her pocket, one she hadn’t used since her high-school netball days. “I’ve got a plan.”

  Charlie blew loudly on the whistle sending a shrieking noise through the quiet air. When she stopped, Rilla looked at her with amazement.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Trust me,” said Charlie. She spotted her fishing cap on the ground and picked it up. There was blood on it, but she didn’t care and placed it on her head. “Get me back to the sedan and just trust me. I’ve got an idea.”

  “What about the gun?” asked Rilla. She looked at Conan. “Shouldn’t we—”

  “Leave it. We don’t need it.”

  It only took a minute for them to reach the sedan, and Rilla helped Charlie into the front seat. As they sat in the comfort of the luxury car, Rilla turned to Charlie. “So what are we waiting for?”

  Charlie peered through the windshield. It should be any moment now. Her breath was starting to fog up the glass and she wiped her hand through the mist. In the gloom outside she saw movement, a lone figure stumbling through the garden in the direction of the crucifix. Charlie smiled. “That,” said Charlie, pointing out Tad to Rilla.

  They watched as the resurrected body of Tad stumbled past them oblivious to their presence. Rilla could see the mottled bruised skin around his neck and the distended tongue that hung from his open mouth. His eyes were pure white, and as he walked into the rose garden, Rilla turned to Charlie.

  “I took care of him.” Charlie answered, without waiting for the question. “And now he’s going to take care of Conan.”

  A few seconds later, with Tad out of sight, they heard the screams begin. They came from the darkness and echoed off the moon and stars. There was no mistake. Tad had found the weakened Conan. Charlie didn’t need to see him rip out the big man’s throat. She didn’t need to see Tad tear chunks of his flesh out, or to see Conan beg for his life as Tad tore him open. She knew he was dead. There was a certain poetry and satisfaction in knowing that Conan had been killed by one of them. The huge walls they lived behind hadn’t protected them as they thought, and now they would both become zombies. Even the old woman, if her brain hadn’t been destroyed, would probably return. They would all turn into the things they most hated. Eventually they would be the ones on the other side of the wall, forced to try to navigate a dangerous world and find others. They would join them on the other side of the wall, and this place would become a safe shelter once more. The only potential problem now was Butcher.