Undead War (Dead Guns Press)

by Thompson, John

“Are you okay?” asked Mindy.

  “He seems a bit shaken up, but I think he is okay” said Jacob. “However, those people chasing him seem to be under the influence of XMB3. They know we are in here, and I don’t think they will be leaving anytime soon. I think you should go back on air and warn the listeners that the drug is active in town. Tell them to stay inside, and not to go out for anything.”

  Mindy agreed with Jacob and immediately cut in while the chorus of Living Dead Girl played. She tried to be careful as she spoke, knowing that there would undoubtedly be a few that would ecstatically rush outside to get a glimpse of mindless junkies. Hell, some would probably even come down to the station to confront the zombies, only to get themselves infected with the mutated drug.

  Switching back to the music playlist, she turned to the boy. His tremors had subsided and he was more alert. He thanked Jacob for helping him out and Mindy for believing in his call for help. His voice stuttered as he explained that he was out for a late night skate board adventure. The cool air and soft breeze provided a perfect way for him to lose himself in thought with only the road in front of him, and a board under his feet. However, his thoughts guided him to a poorly lit alleyway where an overdressed man offered him to sample a new recreational relaxer. When he declined, the man summoned for his goons to attack. He ran, leaving the skateboard behind and the mindless mob followed him closely.

  He ran towards the radio station, calling the request line in hopes that Mindy would take his call for help.

  Meanwhile, while the boy told his tale, Jacob’s wound became numb. The burning sting had navigated from the point of entry and slowly spread over him. He knew that he had become infected with the poison and it would not be long before he was as mindless as the others outside.

  “Mindy, we have to stop those monsters outside before anyone else gets hurt” stammered Jacob.

  “Anyone else? The boy is fine, other than being a little shaken up” said Mindy.

  “I punched one in the mouth, and scraped up my hand pretty bad. His saliva was all over my knuckles. I can feel myself slipping away as the drug flows through me.”

  “Dear God! “, Mindy gasped. “What will you do?”

  “I’m a lost cause. I am just glad I was able to share what I know about the drug, and its affects, on your show. Maybe someone out there can take what I told and find a cure or antidote.”

  “I’m calling the police” said Mindy in a panic. “They have to come and do something about the zombie junkies outside!”

  The sound of the infected could be heard outside the studio through the intercom. Their altered instincts had coerced them to attempt entry into the building. A few were pounding at the window with their boil covered fists, while a couple more pulled on the secured door.

  The remainder circled impatiently on the outer vestibule intent on gaining access.

  “No, it will just put them in danger. Those people are no longer human. They feel no pain, and fear no gun.” snapped Jacob. “I am no more than dead now. Listen to them. They may seem mindless but they are intent on finding this young man and turning him into one of them. They will stop at nothing.”

  “What are you saying, man!” yelled the boy.

  “I am saying that they don’t want to feast on your flesh. Their obsession is spreading the drug and creating more addicts. For what reason, I don’t know. But as the poison

  flows through me, I can feel a similar urge. I don’t understand it yet though. “

  Jacob threw himself down into the nearby chair and covered his face with his hands. Tears dripped from his palms into his lap. All he wanted to do with his life is be the best civil servant he could be, and make the community a better place. Instead, his career has been cut short because he chose to leave his house and share his knowledge with Mystic Mindy and her listeners. He knew he only had a short time left to make a difference, even if it was small. He knew what he had to do.

  “Mindy, it won’t be long until I am as mindless as those freaks outside. I need to do something before I am too far gone.” Jacob’s voice was muffled through his hands. “I’m going out there to stop them. They can’t hurt me; I already have their poison inside flowing through my veins. “

  Mindy wanted to stop him. However, if what he had told the audience earlier was true, then he was already lost to the drug. She looked over at the young man beside her. She still didn’t know his name, and he didn’t understand what was happening, but the fright in his eyes was all the convincing she needed. She looked back at Jacob and nodded, a single tear trailed down her cheek.

  “I need something to use as a weapon”, Jacob jumped from his chair. “Do you have a ball bat, knife, gun, anything?”

  “Nothing of the sort.” said Mindy.

  “What about you boy, any weapons on you?”

  “N-n, nothing.”

  “Damn it!” Jacob was frustrated. “There has to be something here.”

  He looked around the dark studio, only the soundboard lights illuminated the room. The call board was lit up with anxious callers begging for updates. The music playing had transitioned from lighthearted tunes such as Monster Bash that began the musical intermission, to an even scarier tune from Nickleback.

  As the board lit his way, he noticed a stick-like object propped in the corner behind a shelving unit. It took some wiggling to get back there, but he managed to grasp it in his

  fingertips after some work. It was a heavy and solid microphone stand.

  “This should work, it feels like it could do some damage to those beasts outside.” An eerie smile manifested on his face.

  Mindy spoke up, “Oh my, that is my Rob Zombie autographed microphone stand.” He gave it to me after a show he played in Chicago.”

  “Do you have something else in mind for me to use?” he questioned. “Anyway, that makes it even more perfect. Rob Zombie’s Microphone stand used to kill zombies.”

  Mindy sighed, “Okay”.

  Jacob removed his Jacket and unbuttoned his top of his collared shirt before rolling up his sleeves. The wound on his hand glowed red and revealed blackening around strange developing bumps, yet remained completely numb. The intense heat and stinging had all but left his body, however his mind had begun to become foggy. His determination to stop the creatures outside overpowered the urge to infect Mindy and the young man. However, the drug was quickly making him its bitch.

  Without saying another word, Jacob held the mic stand tightly in his left hand and exited the room. Fearing that the zombies would overpower him and enter the building upon his exit, he decided to sneak out the back. The sound of crickets serenaded his exit as he surveyed area. The lone security light revealed the barren back lot, adorned only by a rusting green dumpster.

  To the right, a weed infiltrated cement path guided the way towards the front.

  As he rounded the corner, he noticed two bodies lying on the ground beside the central air unit. The squealing of its ungreased fan worried him that it could signal the others. Cautiously he looked over the corpses, poking each with Mr. Zombie’s mic stand. Neither moved, but he needed to ensure they were really dead. With the stand held high above his head, he thrust the two legged base downward into their skulls, ensuring the contents spilled outward onto the walkway. His swift poundings caused quite a racket that did

  not go unnoticed. Quickly, two more of the drugged up zombies appeared from around the corner. The stench of their oozing flesh awoke the carnal urge within Jacob’s deteriorating mind. As the duo approached him, he temporarily lost focus of the plan. The aroma they secreted summoned his urge to feed. As the first one passed by, their shoulder’s collided and Jacob was brought to his senses. He was blinded by the need to infect, but now he could see clearly. Before him stood a large man of about 300 pounds, completely blocking his path. Knowing the robust creature wouldn’t be easy to move, Jacob swung the stand fast at its knees, knocking him to the ground. As it lay there, like a turtle on its back, Jacob gave its skull the same
treatment as the other two beasts. Its belly jiggled as the body twitched before death arrived.

  Behind him he heard the other zombie returning. Turning quickly, he swung the weapon at waist height. The rod ripped through the assailant’s midsection killing it on contact. The drug must have absorbed into its flesh for a while causing the body to deteriorate from inside out. Jacob only hoped the others were as far along in decomposition as this poor soul. His job would definitely be easier.

  As he walked towards the front, he wondered why the second beast came after him. He had not seen them attack their own, maybe his partial transformation left remnants of his human smells, or maybe the scent was on his clothing. Either way, he needed to be more careful as he advanced towards the next group of addicts.

  Near the front he could hear fists against the windows. He paused for a moment to take a deep breath, anxious to wreak vengeance upon the one that infected him with the drug. Peeking around the corner, he noticed that the one closest to him was nothing more than a little girl. Her hair was matted with dirt and blood; her clothes were tattered and filthy. Jacob knew she would be an easy kill, but hesitated. A child is a child, zombie or not, and the thought of bashing its head was almost too much. As their eyes met, he realized that this young lady was a younger sister of one of his students.

  She had been reported missing about a week prior and the family was devastated at her disappearance. This made his task even harder to finish.

  Aimlessly, she wandered towards the spot he was standing. Her approach was slow and her stride fumbled as though she had a few too many to drink. He hesitated too long already. Raising the mic stand above his head again, he smashed it into her skull. There was no resistance as her broken body fell limp to the ground. Jacob stared at the little girl’s lifeless body for a moment before collapsing to the ground in tears.

  In the moment of weakness, his mind clouded again. He tried to regain control of his thoughts and rationale, but he was losing the battle. Using the mic stand as a cane, he pulled himself up to his feet, forcing himself to concentrate. In front of him was the last of the zombified addicts. The beast was pounding on the front door and pulling at the handle. He seemed much stronger than the others, and more aware. He turned towards Jacob, a smile on his blistered lips. The words, “you’re my puppet now” echoed from his lips.

  Jacob knew time was short and had no time to contemplate the level of consciousness this beast retained. He ran full force towards him, only to be thrown on his back by the fierce zombie. Before he could get back up, the creature was on top holding him down. He was trapped.

  With one free hand, he tried to punch through the seeping torso, but to no avail. The beast was strong and unwilling to give in.

  Jacob was not about to lose now, so he pulled the zombie’s head close to him and bit into its neck. The taste of his its flesh was orgasmic, he could not stop as he made a quick meal of the beast. In a matter of seconds he had chewed through the neck, severing the head. In the process, he had unwillingly almost completed his transformation.

  Before he lost total control, Jacob thrust the corpse from atop him and rushed to the front door. The intercom box was ripped from the wall, but the wires were still connected.

  “Mindy, can you hear me? It’s Jacob”.

  “Jacob, you’re alive! Are you okay?” Mindy was happy to hear his voice.

  “The zombies are all dead. But I fear the drug is stronger than I ever thought and I am fading fast. You are safe for now; please call the police to clean up my mess. I don’t have long until I am consumed by the drug. Thank you for helping me to bring awareness this pandemic, please…continue to spread the word. I have to go now; I have to find a safe place to ensure I cannot spread these toxins further. I fear that I am too far along to kill myself.” The intercom went silent.

  “Jacob…Jacob, are you there?” Mindy said frantically.

  He was gone. Mindy had only known him since the beginning of the night, but his bravery and knowledge of the addictive drug known as XMB3 inspired her to continue to spread the word to her listeners. Before going back on air, she took a moment to mourn. Looking over at the young boy, she nodded that all was okay for now. She stopped White Wedding just after Billy sang , “There’s nothing safe in this world”.

  “Faithful listeners, I am back. We have a lot to talk about, and some sad news to share. I need to take a quick commercial break, and then we will discuss this new and scary world that is now upon us.” Her solemn tone echoed across the airwaves.

  All Weather Biters

  David S. Pointer

  The lurkers stood

  behind early shadows

  like street lampposts,

  like post industrial

  décor dripping away

  their futures waiting

  for the restorative skin

  spray company to come

  up with a product line,

  so that they could apply

  reanimation paste: zombie

  style before the end ever

  ascended to apocalypse

  Ashes

  Shane Demink and Ginny Bowman

  The pain in his leg was excruciating. He supposed he should count himself lucky, being still alive enough to feel it. That was more than what could be said for the rest of his unit. They were gone, every last one of them, casualties of an unhealthy mix of panic fire and the creatures. That's what they were, creatures. They may have been human at one time; but not now, not anymore.

  He checked the wound, the splintered piece of wood from a branch as thick as his thumb was still there, coming close to completely impaling his calf. The blood around the wood had dried, hardening the material of his pants leg, sticking it to the flesh surrounding the wound. He wanted to get it out, needed to, but didn't want to chance it. Those things were like sharks, he sure as hell didn't want them swarming around him because of a reopened wound. No, he had to find shelter first, then maybe he'd get the chance to field dress it. Maybe.

  Using the tree, he slid himself back up to his feet, being careful to put most of his weight on his uninjured left leg. He continued through the woods, for what seemed like hours. That's when he spotted something, it wasn't much, but it was the only structure he'd found so far, certainly the only one that looked capable of providing even a single night's shelter.

  The setting sun cast deceptive shadows across the landscape. Made it look like one of those things was out there. Only it wasn’t making that noise, that hideous maniacal laughter. Dropping low, he became deathly quiet. Military training had taught him the value of patience. The shadow seemed to vanish, like so many others. Convinced it was just a trick of the lighting and growing fatigue, he continued forward, this time even more cautiously, just in case.

  As he slowly, carefully, crept forward, he began to see it a bit more clearly in the dying light. It looked like something that had been thrown together in desperation, held together with hope rather than skill. The thought that he might need a tetanus shot crossed his mind briefly. Still, it was preferable to the hordes that were out there. But not by much.

  ***

  Once upon a time her family had gone blackberry picking . . . and she had hated it. Absolutely, positively hated it. Between the thorns and the bugs she'd always wondered why the heck they couldn't just go to the store like a normal family. But now, now it was completely different. Those blackberries were helping keep her alive. She stuffed her mouth first, then the pack with the find. All the while her eyes darted around the underbrush. Confident there were no more ripe berries, she slung her pack over her shoulder and grabbed the bow she’d propped against the nearby tree.

  The last rays of sunlight faded away. God damn it, she'd lost track of time and wandered too far. Normally she’d be back at the shelter well before dark; not that it was much safer, but it felt that way. They hadn't gotten this far, yet, but you couldn't ever be too sure.

  ***

  She made her way back toward the shelter she had ma
naged to piece together. In the dimming light she saw a figure slumped against the ground. Her breath caught but her fingers stayed steady, fitting an arrow soundlessly as she crept toward it. It looked like a man, a soldier, judging by his military gear. The length of his hair threw her though. Wasn't the typical military cut. Probably one of the forced reinstatements from after the outbreak, she decided.

  She moved closer, grimacing as she snapped a twig. The sound seemed to echo, amplified by the silence of twilight.

  ***

  The sound of a nearby twig snapping caused a surge of adrenalin, overriding the need for sleep. Gun in hand before his eyes opened, he leveled it, center mass, at whatever it was that was coming into focus.

  It looked like a young girl, barely a teenager if that. Still, didn't mean it wasn't one of them. The fog cleared from his eyes enough to recognize a drawn and nocked arrow pointed at him.

  "Easy there Hunger Games," he hissed, gun still pointed at her.

  She sniffed at him, but didn't lower the bow, "Real convincing argument there Soldier Boy." The fading light glinted off the whites of his eyes. They weren't red, which was a good sign, meant he wasn’t one of those things. On the other hand, that didn't instantly make him one of the good guys either.

  ***

  He took note of how she had reacted to the gun, how she hadn't lowered her bow. It meant she was still human. Those things were never detoured by a show of force. Hell, they hardly noticed the bullets for the most part. Not that he had any, but she had no way of knowing that.

  Thumbing the hammer back, slowly releasing the tension on the trigger, he tilted the gun upward. It was a pointless gesture, but it helped sell the idea that the gun was still dangerous.

  "How about you point yours' away?" It wasn't a question so much as a firm suggestion.

  What a fucking moron, she thought, considering all the possibilities. "Fine, not like you could shoot straight anyway." She saw that his hands were actually pretty steady, he was definitely no stranger to having a weapon pointed as him. Sense eventually won out to pride and she lowered her bow. "You gonna' lower yours or what? Or maybe you just wanna' take a nap 'til they come and find you? That works too." She rolled her eyes, looking away in apparent boredom.