Tiredness Kills - A Zombie Tale

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Tiredness Kills - A Zombie Tale Page 5

by Unknown


  They were on her in seconds- pushing against each other to get a bite of the fresh flesh on offer. She put up a fight though, she really did, but it was in vain. When her haunting screams that had filled the air stopped as her throat was bitten through by a previously respectable looking and smartly dressed gentleman, it was thought that this was probably a good time to move. Like birds fledging from a nest that could no longer promise them any safety, they flew out into the unknown.

  It took precisely ten seconds for the group to become separated from each other; and the cause of the separation was a famous charity bear mascot.

  As they ran from the supermarket, led once again by Jon, they found themselves directly in the path of a growling furry beige bear.

  Ant remembered straight away seeing it when he had first arrived. The bear and a helper had been shaking buckets at the customers as they walked through the door. Ant had chucked in a few coins, just enough to make a jingling sound in the bucket, when the bear turned its head and said in a thick Brummie accent, “Bit over- dressed, mate- it's a motorway services, not the Hilton!”

  If anyone had witnessed Anthony Langston looking straight at the lovable and popular charity bear, who wears a bandage on his head, and practically spit out the word “Tosser!” just remember; there are always two sides to a story!

  The bear, who by now had lost it's bandaged head and part of it's paw- along with a couple of it's fingers( which must have been eaten somewhere along the line), was stumbling around growling wildly, but unable reach anyone to feast upon due to the huge amount of thick padding around it's body. Instead, its large cumbersome torso and flailing arms were knocking the living and the undead off their feet in equal measures.

  “I knew you was a tosser, Brummie boy!” said Ant again, with some satisfaction at seeing the man's twisted and tormented face.

  It was this furry beast that caused the small group to lose sight of each other. Scott and Ant, with no alternative than to trust their own survival instincts, headed straight back to the dark little arcade area where they could crouch between the large gambling machines, which had now thankfully lost their power.

  As there was nothing happening here, the small dark section was devoid of all life (or otherwise), giving them a small retreat in which to catch their breath. Scott reached into a soggy pocket and pulled out two cola- flavoured Tip Tops that he had grabbed from a freezer in the supermarket. By now they had completely melted, but both men were grateful of the small sugary drink for now.

  Ant pointed to the five hundred shiny pound coins that littered the floor from the jack pot pay-out, and they both quietly pocketed a few.

  “Just in case!” whispered Ant as they edged back to the entrance of the Arcade to survey the situation once more. Occasionally, a groaning noise could be heard from behind the closed office door where they had left Bryn and Andy a few hours earlier. Yet without knowing that particular code number- and being slightly alarmed at the noises coming from within it- they decided that ignorance was bliss.

  Suddenly, they became aware of a shuffling noise from just the other side of the thick curtain that was sometimes used as a screen to close off the area. Both men automatically held their fingers to their mouths.

  Scott very slowly peered around the curtain, holding his breath. Then quickly he snapped his head back to look at Ant.

  “It's only that motherfucker that started it all!” he whispered frantically. “You know, the hooded chav that nearly knocked my hash browns over! Well, I think someone ought to put him out of his blood- lusting misery, don't you!” he asked Ant rhetorically!

  Holding the crowbar that Kelly had kindly given him, Scott crouched down, and, whilst peering through a gap in the curtain, he waited until the vile creature was as close as possible and then swung the weapon with all his might at the legs of the youth in the messed- up blue hoodie.

  The plan was to knock him to the ground and then smash his skull in with the crowbar. Unfortunately though, this sequence didn't go quite to plan. As blue Kyle lost his pathetic balance he fell directly into the curtain, landing straight on top of Scott, with only the thick material separating their flesh.

  Ant scrabbled from his crouching position, unleashing his already tried and tested Samurai umbrella from its sheath and pointed it towards the pair. However, he was finding it almost impossible to distinguish between the two as they wriggled frantically, wrapped up in the curtain that had now left its holding and fallen to the floor.

  Suddenly, Scott felt his shoulders being held in a vice- like grip and smelt the putrid breath of his attacker burning his nostrils. There were only inches between their faces when Scott had an epiphany. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he forced his arm up so that his fist was level with the decaying tramp, and with a swift, but firm tap on his palm, four long talons of pure metal sprang from his cuff and straight through the eyes of his opponent. Thank fuck he'd chosen the Wolverine claws!

  Ant was nearly bursting to break out in a victory dance, but chose instead to help drag the now 'permanently' dead Kyle off his mate. The hardest part was removing the blades that were deeply embedded in the skull and were splattered in squished eyeballs so it was with huge sadness that Scott made the decision to remove the claw from his arm instead. He looked down at the bloody and messed up man and said with conviction “Never mess with a man's favourite food, Shit Head!”

  Hi Ho Silver

  As usually happens at the kind of parties that involve car keys being thrown into and then picked out of a large bowl, the other four had swapped partners.

  Jon was now running alongside his other work mate Josh.

  Jordan, having witnessed Kelly slip over on discarded entrails and banging her knee hard on the ground, had scooped her up and was now charging onwards with her on his shoulders. Kelly was using the new height advantage and long broomstick to her full advantage whacking and stabbing any sorry zombie that got in their way as they headed for yet another staircase, only this time one that would take them downstairs to possible safety.

  This tactic proved to be successful, aided by the high ceilings within the building affording plenty of broomstick- swinging manoeuvrability. Jordan ploughed through the long corridors lined with foaming and viscous shambling shells of former people like a thoroughbred bull on steroids whilst tough girl Kelly, perched on strong shoulders wielded her long weapon in strong arcs, clearing the way through and looking slightly reminiscent of the Warrior Queen Boudica.

  Passing through a slightly lower door frame had nearly put paid to this winning combination, but a last minute dramatic duck from the feisty female had ensured a safe passage to the next level of the game. They had made it to the almost empty stairway.

  Warrior Queen and trusty steed- 13; Evil man eating zombies- 0.

  Dismounting onto a painful knee, Kelly hadn't noticed the dark shadow lurking under the stairwell until it was almost upon her, but Jordon, still red in the face and puffing hard from the recent charge, luckily had. He drew back his arm, clenched a fist and unleashed a punch that would have impressed any boxing promoter.

  Teeth, foam and blood peppered the wall as one of the office staff, who had been unable to flee downstairs bite-free was knocked backwards several feet by the facial punch, throwing him flat against the one wall that housed an empty ladder fixing. The metal holding that jutted out, punctured straight through the slightly decomposing skin, splitting part of the skull and piercing the soft brain, pinning the poor crazy looking monster in a standing position.

  “Is he dead?” asked Kelly, moving towards him and waving her hand across his face. Before Jordan could answer, the monster let out a blood- curdling groan.

  “Not quite!” said a shaken Jordan, punching in the code to the locked door, “But he aint going nowhere fast!”

  A limping Kelly followed him through the door, with one last look behind her hoping to see if any of the four friends that they had become separated from had caught up yet. 'Please make it' she w
hispered before shutting the door behind her.

  Josh and Jon had needed to make a slight detour due to the large amount of zombie arousal that had been produced en route as a result of the warrior charge. Keeping fairly low to the ground, they manoeuvred through the maze of upturned tables and chairs littered throughout the chaotic restaurant. Josh was in front with a crowbar whilst Jon moved backwards, his extended Wolverine claws ready to swipe any biters that may pick up their trail.

  They made it unchallenged to the double doors that led to the walkway, which would then take them to the corridor behind the Burger King unit. Josh gingerly pushed open the heavy doors, and, seeing no movement from his line of sight, beckoned Jon to follow. Once through, they quietly dragged some of the large cages that were stored there over to barricade the doors against any future zombie pressure. They then slowly edged their way along the walkway. On reaching the entrance to the corridor they heard the unmistakable sound of the undead growling for food. Carefully, they peered round the concrete wall. A group of around ten hungry zombies were clawing away at the closed walk-in chiller door, thankfully no longer possessing the brain power to figure out that the fridge could easily be accessed by pulling the large grey handle on the outside of the door.

  “There are people in the fridge!” whispered Jon.

  “Ye, ye,” agreed Josh “What do you reckon we should do?”

  “Well, it's hard to say really, 'cos we don't know who's in there. I don't fancy risking my life for anyone I don't like. You know, the kind that wouldn't do it for us. And anyway they might have died of hypothermia by now!” said Jon diplomatically.

  Josh did a quick mental re-run of who he had seen and flirted with that day and suddenly grabbed Jon's arm. “Charlie and Sian are on shift today!” he announced in an excited whisper. “They are so hot. It's worth the risk, mate. Just think how grateful they would be if we rescued 'em. God I'd earn so many man points!”

  “Jeeesh, man, think with your brain for once! Mind you.......” he then paused to ponder, “We could be heroes! Let's do this!”

  Using mainly hand gestures and low whispers and a quick game of rock paper scissors, they formulated a plan that involved Josh ramming the zombies out of the way with one of the wheeled cages whilst Jon opened the door, rescuing the distressed maidens by hurling them onto the trolley on its return journey and then heading hell- for- leather down the corridor towards the stairs.

  Without the luxury of time to iron out any possible flaws in the plan, they stood, trolley poised, and on the count of three the two hopeful heroes- complete with a spontaneous war cry- skidded round the corner and ran the hundred yards or so towards the grisly mob, gathering speed as they went.

  Impact was sudden, successful and a tad mushy due to an onset of mild decomposition. Josh had managed to ram the group good and hard, and the blithering bodies had been forced several feet out of the way and had landed in a heap on top of each other further up the corridor. All except for one. It was difficult to tell now if they were male or female, such was their grotesque appearance, but one had grabbed hold of the back of the cage and it took Josh a good few smashes against the wall for its fingers to break off and its body to slither to the floor.

  Jon had got the chiller door open to reveal four terrified faces. Two were male and two were indeed Charlie and Sian.

  “It's your lucky day! Quick, come on!” he gestured for the captives to leave with him.

  However, the two men were having none of it and practically shoved the girls out in order to pull the door back shut. The two cold and terrified females looked to Jon for guidance, and with a nonchalant grin he pointed to the wheeled cage that was now steaming back down towards them. Josh ordered them to climb into the cage and, with impressive man power, Jon and Josh pushed the cage onwards through the pot washing area, ploughing into soft bodies along the way- knocking them in all directions and not stopping until they reached the double doors to the staircase.

  Once there, the girls jumped off the blood splattered chariot and followed their saviours down the stairs. At the bottom, they all came to a screeching halt as they almost ran into the growling bloody mess that was once a member of the office crew. The girls screamed as it lifted its arms towards them, but Jon noticed that it seemed unable to move forwards.

  “It's stuck on the wall!” he announced, assessing the situation without getting too close. “The metal spike for the ladder has stuck in its skull; but it's not in far enough to kill it!”

  And with that, he beckoned to Josh and, whilst taking his phone out of his pocket, he sang the word “Selfie!”

  To the girls' disgust, Jon and Josh, being sure to stand just out of arms reach, contorted their faces into a zombie grimace and the world’s most extraordinary 'Selfie' ever was taken.

  “We can't just leave him hanging Josh!” said Jon putting his phone away and opening the coded door.

  “I know, I know!” replied Josh holding his crowbar out in front of him.

  What followed was a crunchy, squishy sound as Josh, placing the crowbar flat against the zombies forehead pushed its head back a few inches, forcing the ladder spike straight through its brain. Dodging the blood spray he turned to see the look of pure horror on the two girls' faces.

  “What?” he asked flippantly. “It's a mercy killing! You'll get used to it!”

  Bear necessities!

  Upstairs in the arcade, Scott and Ant were assessing their situation.

  “Right!” said Ant, “Show me the map on your arm. There's safety in numbers, so we need to find our way down to this Stores place and find the others!”

  Scott rolled up his sleeve to reveal an arm covered in just a big black make-up smudge. Completely undecipherable.

  “Oh great, Scott! Nice one! Do you suppose they may have left a trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow just in case you ruined the map?” hissed Ant sarcastically.

  “Dunno' if you noticed, Anthony, but whilst you stood watching with your brolly in the air I happened to be working up quite a sweat killing a bloody zombie. It's not my fault that girl doesn't buy water proof make-up now, is it?” answered Scott with great irritation. An uneasy tension built up between the two best mates. After glaring at each other for a couple of minutes, they both realised the futility of the stand -off.

  “God, I'm sorry mate. This 'ent the time to fall out is it? Time to re-assess!”

  They both peered out from their place of safety. Mayhem was still reigning supreme across the large food hall. Unbelievably, there were other survivors dotted about being hunted down relentlessly. Zombie groans filled the air, entwined by the occasional blood -curdling scream as yet another poor victim became lunch. The two comrades checked their arsenal. Between them they carried one of Kelly's crowbars, a samurai umbrella, a chair leg and a wallet ninja.

  “We need more weapons,” said Scott looking at the dismal collection. “Food isn't gonna' be much help here, as I can't see us decapitating this lot with sausages or distracting them with a cup of tea! We need to get over to the W.H. Smith shop and see what's there!”

  In between them and the shop was the large charity bear, swinging its arms around and getting more and more frustrated at its inability to get near enough to anyone to feast on.

  “I have an idea,” said Scott, “How sharp is your brolly?”

  “Sharp enough to have killed the bloke in the supermarket. Why?”

  “If we can pierce Padsey or whatever his name is, we can use him as a human shield to get us across to the shop!”

  “Human shield?” laughed Ant. “He's anything but human! But okay, let's give it a go!”

  They waited until the bear was shuffling along with his back to them and then headed towards it like a couple of pent- up lions out hunting. Scott, keeping low, ran around to its front and, on seeing Ant holding the brolly in position behind it, he gave an almighty shove on the bear's padded belly. At the same time Ant launched the pointed steel brolly right into its back. It was an almighty team ef
fort and it worked. They had skewered the cuddly foam -spitting animal.

  Slightly shocked at the success of the operation, Scott joined Ant at the rear and they proceeded to control the beast to their advantage, forcing it to clear a path through the bloody undead, knocking them into different directions. This plan worked a treat right up to the shop entrance where, unbeknownst to them, a small zombie baby was crawling across their path. The stumbling feet of the bear tripped over the poor little thing and it fell forwards in a heap, forcing them to let go of the umbrella. Ant, with the reflexes of a cat, grabbed the handle and yanked it out of the back of the creature. It made a soft slurping sound as it bought out with it a couple of internal organs, one of which could easily have been a liver. Without stopping to think, Ant held the weapon aloft, as you would a javelin. Scott watched as his mate coldly and accurately launched the bloody umbrella straight into the open mouth of the snarling bear.

  “What you saying now, Tosser?” he demanded with a slightly maniacal look on his face!

 

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