by Mark Tufo
I pawed at the window silently; I didn’t want the dead ones to take notice…at least not yet.
“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” Zach said.
“Why?” Ben-Ben asked. “What’s going on?”
“Riley, you’re just going to have to find a corner of the basement to do what you need to do,” Jess said.
“I don’t need to relieve myself,” I grumbled at her.
“Stop, Riley, they’ll notice.” Jess came over to me.
“Open the doggone window,” I growled at her.
She backed up.
“How to win friends and influence people,” Patches said.
“Cat, how do I open this thing?” I asked.
“That lever needs to be pulled down.”
“What’s a lever, Patches?” I asked. I was getting angry now. I had a plan and I wanted to do it before I got too scared to even attempt it.
“That white small stick right above your paw is the window lever, you need to pull it down,” she told me.
I draped my paw over it and yanked, it dug into my soft pads at first and then finally yielded.
“Riley!” Jess said, coming back towards me.
The viewer popped open a little, but not nearly enough to fit me through.
“Pull the window down, Riley,” Patches told me.
Jess moved and grabbed me around the waist. Patches spat and hissed at Jess. I turned and leveled a fierce gaze on the girl.
“What is going on?” she asked, terror filling her eyes.
I truly was sorry that I had to do that, but she could have easily pulled me off my perch.
“I wish I knew what you guys were up to,” Jess said. “Riley, why are you going out?”
The viewer was flat with the ground; it could not open any more. I lunged so that my front paws were gripping the outside of the house, my back paws were pumping in the air trying to get a paw hold on anything, I was coming up empty. I once again felt Jess’s hands on my body, but this time they weren’t trying to hold me back she was pushing me up.
“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’ve trusted you since this started and I shouldn’t doubt you now, my precious dog. Whatever you’re doing…please don’t get hurt.” She kissed me on the neck before she got me all the way through the small viewer.
This is a bad idea, I thought as I moved away from the small shrubs that encircled the house. I checked out my surroundings, making sure I had a way to escape once the time arrived. I moved further from the house and Jess’ frantic gaze…then I started to bark.
Jess’ hand went to her mouth. What are you doing? she mouthed.
It didn’t take zombies long to hone in on me. Within a few beats of my heart, the chase was on. I was pulling as many of them away from the house as I could.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I swear to the Animal Gods, if that dog gets herself killed and I get stuck with you, Ben-Ben, there will be hell to pay.”
“Hell?” Ben-Ben asked.
“Ultimate dog jail,” Patches said.
“Oooh, that sounds bad.” Ben-Ben cowered.
“You too?” Jess asked as Patches easily jumped up and grabbed the lip of the window pulling herself up and out.
Patches looked around quickly. She could hear Riley’s barking trailing off as she moved further away. She turned and pawed the glass.
“What?” Jess asked.
“You cannot be this thick,” Patches said to her.
“You want me to go out there?” Jess asked.
“See? I knew all humans weren’t dumb,” Patches said.
“How can they be?” Ben-Ben asked. “They know how to make bacon.”
“Fair point,” Patches replied. “Although I don’t love it quite like you do.”
Jess looked at Patches, confusion quickly becoming a dawning. “Riley is leading them away, so we can get out of here. How is this possible? I’m just not getting it.”
“Doesn’t matter what ‘you get’ get your ass out here!” Patches spat.
“Me next!” Ben-Ben yipped. “I really have to go.”
Jess looked down at him and then to the window. “As good an idea as any.” Jess picked up the small dog.
“Of course it is,” Patches purred, “I thought of it.”
Ben-Ben turned slightly just as Jess was pushing him through the window. “Goodbye, Mia. Goodbye, Jumper. Goodbye, Koala, may you always have a slice of bacon in your mouth.” And then he was out.
“Fine prayer,” Patches told him.
“Thank you,” Ben-Ben told her. He moved a few feet over to the side of the house and hunched over, arching his back placing his backend close to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Patches nearly screamed at him.
“I have to go,” Ben-Ben replied, clearly confused.
“Not here, you dumb dog! The zombies will smell it. You should have gone inside the house.”
Ben-Ben cocked his head to the side. “You’re kidding, right? Riley always yells at me for that…even when I tell her I couldn’t hold it anymore. And now I’m trying to do the right thing and you’re telling me I’m not. I don’t get it?”
“Just hold it some more,” Patches told the dog.
Ben-Ben grunted at her. “Where’s Riley?” he asked, looking around like he just realized his friend wasn’t around anymore.
“Where do you go?” Patches asked. “Did you miss the whole plan?”
“There was a plan?” he asked.
“Just keep an eye out for zombies.”
“Which eye?” Ben-Ben asked.
“If I didn’t think you’d start crying, I’d stick a claw in your nose.”
Ben-Ben moved away.
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve done today,” Patches said, returning her gaze back into the basement.
Jess had picked up Zach and walked over towards Mia. Patches heard her murmur a small prayer and then she came back towards the window. She hesitated as she moved to put the baby outside. “I’m sorry,” Jess told Zach as she pushed him through the window. He toppled a couple of inches to the ground. When he righted himself he had some leaves sticking to the side of his head.
“That was fun,” he gurgled.
Jess made sure all of the safeties were engaged on the pistols and shotgun before she pushed them through the window.
“Anti-gun activists would have a field day with this if they saw it,” Jess said as weapons surrounded her younger brother. Zach watched his sister put the guns down but made no move for them.
Jess grabbed the lip of the house and jumped up, the weight of her body coming down on the window. It shattered with a much louder crack than it should have. With no manmade sounds to speak of, the smashing of the glass pane traveled far. Jess paused for a moment and then began to hurriedly pull herself through the small enclosure as they heard footsteps coming their way.
RILEY
I’ve had better ideas, I thought as I ran from yard to yard.
I had a good number of zombies playing chase. Only some were the faster ones and they usually got stuck on fences, giving me enough time to catch my breath as I went through the openings in between. My throat was sore from all the panting I was doing, and I really wanted a huge bowl of water.
Only once so far had I had to fight my way out of a situation. I had run into a back yard and had been panting so heavily I had not heard the zombie exit the home from behind me. I’d been watching the zombies that had been following me. They were walking into the fence, which caught most of them high on their legs. Some would fall in or be pushed over and the pursuit would begin anew. Other times, the faster zombies would hit the fences so hard they would snap the dead trees, usually at the cost of their own broken bones that would snap louder than the wood.
It made no sense that they felt no pain and they seemingly never got tired. The closest thing I’d ever seen pursue food so relentlessly was Ben-Ben, and even he had his limitations. Maybe to the zombies I was one huge sl
ab of bacon. That was the thought I had when I felt a foot stumble into me from behind. The zombie was bent over at the waist, her black mouth agape. Jagged teeth were gnawing ceaselessly as her outstretched hands tried to encircle my neck. I was glad the cat wasn’t there to see me as I yelped. I tucked my tail between my legs and leaped.
In my panic to get away I did not watch where I was heading. I had kept my line of sight on her as I ran. The back of the yard had the smooth planked dead trees that rose much higher than I could jump and with no openings, it was not an avenue of escape. I slid to a halt as I turned my body. Fangs bared, lips pulled back, fur bristled, I barked savagely as she advanced. Her hands were still outstretched as I ripped three of her fingers off in one foul bite. Her blood-soaked fingers on her left hand tried to seek purchase. The best she could manage was a mild pinch on that side. Her other hand gripped a large swath of fur and pulled me towards her. I sank my teeth deep into the meat of her arm. She was unconcerned as she brought her mouth down towards the side of my face, looking to pull pieces of me away and into her mouth.
Ben-Ben had a history of eating some of the most disgusting things the world had to offer – on more than one occasion that even involved animal droppings, and still his breath had never smelled quite as horrid as this thing that leaned down for me. If the Death-being Patches said she saw had a smell, this would be it. I let go of her arm and wrenched myself free from her grasp, whining a bit as she took a fistful of fur with her. Her teeth clamped down on air. Her eyes went from satisfied, to confused, to enraged that I had not sat quietly while she ate me. At least that’s what it looked like to me.
I latched on to the back of her thigh before she could spin and try to grab hold once again. I dug my front paws into the ground and violently whipped my head back and forth. The light fake furs yielded easily enough as did a substantial amount of her muscle. I ripped a wide red wet swath of it clean from her, leaving a gaping wound where she was once whole. The piece of meat was still rippling on the ground when she turned. I ran into the middle of the yard and she followed, dragging her damaged leg behind – her foot at a grotesque angle to the rest of her leg.
“How?” I barked.
The taste of her was sour in my mouth. This one zombie above all others bothered me to no end. Her pale, gray, moist eyes were locked on to me. She wore fake skins much like She-Alpha, and their size, build and looks were similar enough that they could be littermates. Maybe that was why I wished so hard that she’d stop chasing me. I needed this rest. Soon I was going to have to circle back around and try and find my pack and this zombie was not allowing it. I knew better than to posture an attack…I did it anyway. Tough to just ignore something that is instinctual. That was as much a part of me as looking out for my pack.
I ran at the zombie, coming close, and at the last moment I moved to the side and away from her outstretched hands. I quickly got in behind it. The zombie spun down as I’d hoped it would with its leg not working correctly. Dogs and even cats could get around pretty good with one damaged leg, two-leggers not so much. I had thought to crush her skull in my teeth, but the pain to my jaw would be immense and just the thought of tasting her mind did not sit well in my stomach. I went to the leg that was whole and ripped out a portion to match the other. She could come at me now, but it would be at a snail’s pace.
I moved a few paces away. I was breathing heavily and needed to slake this thirst. First things first though as I took a few ragged breathes. My head whipped up with the loud cracking of the fence that separated me from the zombies. The chase was on again, I was not sure how much longer I could keep this up.
JESS
Patches was caught midway between wanting to flee to preserve her life and staying to protect the pack. “Damn you, Riley, if you get me killed I’m going to be pissed. Stupid guilt,” she said softly, her tail the only thing moving.
Patches was peeking out from underneath the bushes. There were three zombies in the area; two seemed completely oblivious to anything going on and the third was sniffing the air. Patches could tell he had caught a scent of something, but as of yet had not located his prey.
Patches wished Jess would be quieter as she grunted her way through the window. The zombie would sniff, then stop and look around, take a step or two, then repeat the cycle.
He’s hunting, she thought as she watched. He turned and she slunk back further under the brush. She thought he had a good idea where they were. She noted that the other two had turned as well even though they were further away and as of yet had not shown any curiosity whatsoever for her location.
There’s some form of communication going on, Patches thought as she watched the feet of the other two begin to approach. “Hurry up, Jess,” she hissed an urgent message to the girl.
Jess had just pulled her last leg out of the window. She checked on Zach and then stuffed the two pistols into the front pouch of the sweatshirt hoodie she was wearing. She grabbed Zach and then the rifle. The lead zombie was pushing up against the bushes, trying to force his way through. He made it about half way when he stopped.
“Wheeler,” Ben-Ben said softly. Patches could tell there was a hint of excitement in his voice. “Two of them, we’re safe.”
Patches was not nearly as convinced. She knew there was no one out there looking for them or attempting to rescue them unless Riley had magically learned how to drive. “That’d be something,” she said. “I’d like to see that.”
Ben-Ben looked confused.
“Do not move, dog,” Patches said, her tail brushing the ground behind her. “We don’t know who is in those cars.” At least the sound of the engines had the added benefit of drawing the two furthest zombies away.
Jess had propped the shotgun up against her shoulder as she sat hunched down by the side of the house. The business end of it was pointed up into the bushes where the zombie would meet his maker if he came one foot further.
She would have to shoot if he did, and if that happened, the people in the cars would know where they were. Patches hoped it didn’t come to that. Zombies were dangerous to be sure but nothing in comparison to people. The zombie paused momentarily and then followed his brethren.
“Well, that’s my car,” a voice said. “Did you have to shoot it up?”
“Icely,” Jess whispered under her breath.
“I didn’t want them to use it to get away,” Dianna said.
“Ever hear of pulling the spark plug wires?” Icely asked with some heat.
“There were zombies here and people were shooting at us. Sedgwick had been hit,” Ned said.
“Yeah, yeah I get it, lot of shit going on,” he told them. “Mia!” he shouted. “You going to come out on your own, or are you going to make me come in there and get you? It’ll go worse for you if I have to do that! Well…scratch that, it’s going to go bad for you either way, but you could at least be courteous enough to save me the trouble!”
“Zombies,” Grumper said. “There’s always fucking zombies.”
Dianna lifted her machine gun, Icely pushed the barrel down. “You daft? You fire that thing and we’re going to have a zombie party in under five minutes.”
He reached into his car and pulled out a machete. He rubbed his thumbnail along the blade, satisfied with the sharpness. The tall man strode towards the nearest zombie. He pulled the arm wielding the large knife back, turning his hips like a professional baseball player as he swung. The blade met little resistance as it parted the zombie’s Adam’s apple, sliced through his esophagus, and then made short work of the delicate bones that supported the head. The zombie took two more steps before it realized it was now driving blind. The head fell with a sickening thud.
“That’s how you do it,” Icely said with a measure of satisfaction.
“I’ll stick to my gun.” Dianna turned away.
Grumper opened up the trunk to the car he had been in and pulled out a large tire iron. “Mind if I take one, boss?” he asked.
“Have at it.” Ic
ely pulled his blade free from the skull of the second zombie. He had struck it on the top of the cranium, determined to split the head in two. He had driven the blade entirely down to the base of the nose before the momentum and human material had slowed and finally stopped the blade. The zombie’s head opened up like a butterfly.
“Well that’s the stuff of nightmares.” Icely laughed as he placed one foot against the zombie’s stomach. As he pushed it away, he wrenched his blade free. The body jerked a few times on the pavement, and then lay still.
Grumper brought the curved end of the tire iron into the forehead of the third zombie. Blood erupted as if it had been under extreme pressure and seeking a way to escape its captivity.
“Weak,” Icely said as the zombie kept coming forward.
“Thing’s skull must be an inch thick,” Grumper said.
“Or you’re getting decrepit in your old age.” Ned smirked at him.
Grumper reared back, his arms shivering as he planted another swing in the same spot, the bones cracking like an over boiled egg. Chunks of skull flew out from the impact; the zombie staggered but was still standing. Grumper walked a couple of steps away and picked up a piece of the skull. “Look at that fucking thing, it’s a freak of nature,” Grumper said turning the abnormally thick piece of bone around and around in his hand.
“Are you going to finish the damn thing off?” Icely asked, watching the swaying zombie.
“Sure, sure sorry.” Grumper dropped the piece of bone and wiped his hand on the side of his shirt. His third blow went halfway into the brain tissue, it was all Grumper could do to pull his iron free before the zombie fell to the ground.
“Okay, Mia, get your ass out here. I want to be done with this and go home. And, oh yeah, bring your little friend out with you. I plan on sharing her with the whole city. The men will be thrilled to have her in the whore stables,” Icely said.
Jess was shaking so violently she nearly dropped the rifle. Patches brushed up against her, hoping that some of her resolve would rub off on the girl.
“What about the man in there, Icely?” Dianna asked.