by Bryan Mosier
“You guys…you need to go.” says Larry, a look of resolution falling over his face. “If you don’t go now the zombies will be all over this bus and you won’t be able to get out.”
Head hung in shame for what he is about to say, Alex responds“He’s right”
“What the hell?” protests Bryan. “He’s our friend. We can’t just leave him!”
Looking around at the group, Alex fixes his stare on Brandon. In that moment, looking into his little brother’s eyes thoughts of his parents come rushing into his mind. Not knowing if they are alive or dead, Brandon could be the only family he has left. Knowing this and thinking about the responsibility he owes his parents to protect his little brother he can’t allow friendship to come between them.
Moving his gaze to Darla, meeting her eyes with his he sees recognition and understanding because she is undoubtedly feeling the same for Melody and Carla.
“We’re leaving.” says Alex, the tone of his voice so cold that no one questions the notion this time.
“I ain’t goin.” declares Suzie-Steve
“What? You gottago.” pleads Larry
“I ain’t leavinyou and that’s that.”
“C’mon, you knew this was gonna happen eventually.” says Larry“When this whole mess started you know I was gonna end up gettin it. The fat guy always ends up getting it.”
“Shut up you stupid fat fuck. You ain’t getting eat by no fuckin dead ass zombies. I ain’t leavinyou. I ain’t leavinmy friend like that.”
“You sure about this” asks Alex. With a silent knod of determination Suzie-Steve confirms her resolve.
“Okaythen, you better take this.” says Alex as he lifts the nail studded baseball bat and hands it to Suzie-Steve.
“When I open this door we head straight for the garage. I’ll take the lead, Bryan and Justin,you take the rear. Girls…you protect the little ones.” With everyone’s nod of approval Alex grabs the red lever on the door and gives it a hard turn. Feeling the door lock release he slowly pushes on the door but is startled when it refuses to move.
“Shit!” he says.
“What’s wrong” asks Darla as she places a hand on Melody’s shoulder.
“The door. It’s stuck”
“What the hell?” asks Bryan, his fear and frustration reaching a boiling point.
“When the bus flipped over it must have bent the frame or something. The door is jammed.
“Well can we kick it or something?” asks Brandon.
“Yeah, I think so but…”
“What” asks Bryan.
“You won’t be able to close it back” says Suzie-Steve.
Taking a moment for the reality of the situation to set in Alex looks at Suzie-Steve for one last confirmation of her decision to stay with Larry.
“You need to get goin.” she says. Looking down at Larry, Suzie-Steve smiles and says“Don’t you worry none you fat son of a bitch…I got this”
“Okay then, here goes.”
Stepping back from the door Alex grabs the back of a seat for added leverage. Lifting his leg high he kicks forward, his shoemaking hard contact with the steel of the bus’s emergency exit. Seeing the door still lodged in place, panic starts to well up in Alex’s chest. Lifting his leg he kicks hard again at the metal door. This time though he feels the door move ever so slightly. Kicking again and again the metal frame of the bus finally relents as the door releases to fall outward on its hinges until it slams hard against the outside wall of the bus.
“Okay, let’s move. Remember, stay close and don’t break formation” commands Alex as he hops through the door of the bus to the ground below. One by one the group exits the bus, Alex helping them each as they gather around the back of the bus. “Let’s hurry up before those dead…” he starts but upon turning to move to the garage his flashlight shines bright into the face of a zombie just a few feet away slowly stumbling towards them, its glowing red eyes fixated on them. Running forward he lifts his claw hammer high into the air and, with a ferocity grown from the need to protect those he loves, he brings the hammer down hard on the rotting skull of the zombie, tearing through bone and flesh, sending the undead assailant collapsing to the ground. “Let’s go” he commands as he begins to move forward, scanning the area in front of him with his flashlight, looking for anymore would be attackers. Leading the group across the way to the garage they are fortunate to not have to deal with any more of the undead, who still seem to be fixated on the bus. Arriving at the garage Alex looks back and, for what seems like the thousandth time today, his heart sinks to his stomach. The bus is now nearly engulfed in a cocoon of writhing undead, a mass of squirming bodies pressing through the open door of the bus. Through the chaos the group can here yelling coming from the bus.
“You dead ass mutha fuckasain’t gettinin my back door” is all they can make out before the moans of the undead drown out any sounds coming from inside the bus.
“C’mon, let’s get inside” says Alex as he grabs the door knob of the garage entrance.
Twisting the handle he lets out a sigh of relief as the knob turns and the door begins to open. Pushing the door open slowly he sticks his flashlight into the room and peers around the edge of the door, scanning for any telltalemovement that might indicate if the zombies had managed to infiltrate the garage. Stepping through the door, feeling confident that the area is safe, he gestures for the rest of the group to follow. “Okay, bar the door so none of those things can get in here.”
“Okay, now what?” asks Bryan“We went from being stuck in a bus to now being stuck in a building. Either way, we’re still screwed…and Larry…Suzie-Steve…they’re….” He tries to finish his sentence but chokes on the words.
“We don’t know if they…if they’re still alive or not” says Alex, trying to hide the uncertainty in his voice and the shame he feels for leaving them behind.
“Maybe we can still make it to the house” suggests Carla, her words quivering as they come out of her mouth.
“Yes, that’s what we’re gonnado” declares Alex. “We need to get to the house. At the very least we can hole up in there long enough to figure out a new plan.”
“Well, if that’s the plan then we got a little problem” says Bryan as he holds up his floor scraper, its long metal handle bent at an awkward angle.“Must’ve got bent in the crash. And we left the bat with…” he starts but again the words catch in his throat.
“So what do we have then?” asks Alex as he thumbs the handle of the claw hammer hanging from his belt loop.
“We’ve still got the two swords but that’s about it?” admits Darla.
“Damn it” yells Alex, finally unable to contain his frustration of their circumstances.
Standing in silence the group shares a moment of silencebefore finally“Well, don’t just stand there people, lets figure this out” demands Melody. “I mean we ain’t got all night…well, I guess we do if we wanted to but…” she continues but stops short when she sees the proud look on her sisters faces.
“She’s right. We made it this far and we’re not giving up now. Look around. Find anything that can be used as a weapon.”
Chapter 32
The combined glow of the flashlights breaks apart into individual beams of light as each member of the group fans out through the spacious garage to look for anything they can use to fight off the undead masses barring their way to the house.
“Hey, look over here” says Bryan as he motions for Carla to follow him. Walking over to a workbench along the back wall, Bryan points Carla to a large yellow and black electric saw sitting on a long metal tool bench. “Ooh, that’s a fourteen inch DeWaltchop saw.” he says, trying not to let the drool slip from his lips at the sight of the lumber chewing monster of every handy man’s dreams. “How do you know that” asks Carla, surprised at Bryan’s working knowledge of any sort of power tool. “Saw it during a marathon of This Old House once when we lost the remote control and couldn’t change the channel off of PBS for a
week.” As his light glares off of the hardened steel of the large circular metal blade Bryan runs his fingers over its jagged carbide tipped teeth.“Bet we could do some serious damage with that thing, huh. Look around and see if you can find a wrench or something so we can get the blade off.” Splitting off, Bryan and Carla start scouring the peg board walls for any type of tool that might help them free the blade from the saw.
Looking up, Carla spies several plastic totes sitting on a shelf high above the bench. Shining her flash light on the dull blue and gray plastic boxesshe can almost make out some faded writing scrawled in black sharpie on the side of the tote. “What does that say?” she thinks to herself. Unable to read the words in the dim light she decides that her best course of action is to simply climb up on the bench to take a closer look. Planting her foot on the lower shelf of the bench she carefully pulls herself up onto the dusty metal surface of the workbench. As she points her flashlight at the plastic tote now only inches from her face the light shimmersoff of something just behind the box. “What was that?” she says out loud.
“What was what?” asks Bryan as he looks up to see Carla standing precariously on the edge of the work bench.
“Nothing, just thought I saw something” she replies as she grabs the molded plastic handle on the side of the tote.
Suddenly, out of the darkness a loud hiss emanates from behind the box startling Carla causing her to arch precariously backwards. Trying to regain her balance she shifts her foot to one side but, unable to see in the darkness, she steps on a loose wrench carelessly left lying on the bench. Feeling her foot slip, in a desperate attmeptto regain control Carla grabs the handle of the tote hoping to stabilize herself but as the plastic tote slides forward she realizes that this will not be the case. “Oh crap!” she cries in a whispered yell as she falls backward into the darkness, pulling the plastic container with her. Closing her eyes in anticipation of the inevitable pain she is surprised when suddenly landing on something soft, she finds herself lying on the floor pain free. Opening her eyes she sees the plastic tote sitting by her feet. “Um…ouch! What the hell just happened” comes the familiar voice from underneath her. Pressing her hand down on the ground by her hips she feels the soft touch of fabric. “Hey now, you’re gonna need to buy me dinner first” says Bryan as she shines her flashlight at the floor to reveal Bryan laying beneath her, her hand precariously close to his crotch. Embarassed, Carla jerks her hand away and scrambles to her feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” starts Bryan but his own embarrassment prevents him from completing the thought. “Um, what happened?” he asks, trying to alleviate the awkwardness of the moment.
“There was something up there” she replies, as she points her flashlight to the empty space on the shelf where the tote once resided. “It hissed at me.” Watching the glow of the light for any sign of movement Carla finally says“Get up there and check it out”
“What? Why me?” comes the instinctual response of nerdly self-preservation but as soon as the words leave his mouth Bryan realizes just how cowardly they sounded.
Looking at Carla, the dim glow of the flashlights shimmering in her eyes, Bryan quickly realizes that there is only one way this scenario ends. Hopping up onto the workbench he slowly straightens himself up out of a crouching position, hoping the shaking of his knees isn’t noticeable in the darkness. “Please don’t be a snake, please don’t be a snake” he whispers to himself as he slowly brings the flashlight over the top edge of the shelf. Peeking over slowly he lets out an audible sigh of relief when he sees the source of the commotion. “Aww, come on you little monster you. You ain’t scary at all are ya” he says as he reaches his hand over the shelf. “Yeah, that’s it, it’s alright. I got ya” he says as he slowly lowers himself back down to the floor.
Noticing the change in Bryan’s tone Carla asks“What is it? What do you have?”
As Bryan lifts the object of the commotion up into the light of her flashlight, Carla lets out a loud sigh and then an ear piercing“Awww, it’s so cute.” Holding it closer to the light so she can see it better, Bryan shows Carla a small orange and white striped kitten, its whiskers strung with cobwebs and dust. “So, what’s in the box?” asks Bryan as he hands the kitten over to Carla who immediately pulls it close, cradling it in her neck.
“Not sure. The writing on the side just said climbing.”
Kneeling down and popping the lid off of the plastic tote, Bryan shines his light into the box to reveal a jumble of straps and several neatly coiled lengthsof thin nylon rope. Pulling the contents from the box he holds it up into the light to get a better look at their find. After a brief assessment of the materials Bryan comes to the conclusion“Looks like a bunch of climbing gear. Some rope and a couple of harnesses. Might be useful later, if we actually live through this.” As he begins shoving the contents back into the tote Carla says“Wait a minute. Give me that rope. I got an idea.” Handing her a bundle ofcoiled rope he puts the lid back on the box. As he shoves the tote out of the way he hears the sound of metal scraping on the concrete floor. Lifting the box and placing it to one side he shines his flashlight on the floor. “Well I’ll be” he says.
“What?” asks Carla as she cradles the kitten in one hand and begins unraveling the coil of rope with the other.
“I think you found what we were looking for” replies Bryan as he retrieves a small shiny adjustable crescent wrench from the floor.
Giving the bolt anchored in the center of the large circular blade one final turn, Bryan is relieved when it falls free of the machine and clatters onto the work bench. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere” says Bryan as he gives the blade a wiggle, releasing it from its housing and gently pulling it free of the saw, careful not to touch its razor sharp teeth.
“Alright, now that we have a blade, we need a handle.”
“Will this work?” asks Carla, holding a long wooden axe handle out for Bryan to inspect. Looking over the handle with its narrow split at the top for driving wedges into to anchor the head of the axe onto the handle, Bryan smiles and says“Oh yes. This will do just fine. Now all I need is some…”
“Rope?” asks Carla, as she offers a frayed end to Bryan.
“Why did you cut it?” he asks.
“To make this” she replies as she holds up a length of the rope. With one end tied in a series of small knots and the other fixed into a small loop Bryan is confused by her work.
“You still got that floor scraper?” she asks.
“Yeah, but the handle is bent. It’s useless” he tells her as he reaches into his duffle bag and presents her with the mangled weapon.
“As a pole weapon, yes itsdays of being useful are over. But…” she says, handing the kitten over to Bryan as she begins her work.
Unscrewing the wing nut that locks the head of the scraper to the handle with an uncanny deftness she slides the bolt out, releasing the head of the scraper from the handle. Pinching the looped end of the rope together she inserts it into the opening of the scraper head where the handle once went. Shoving the bolt back through its proper opening and replacing the wing nut, she holds up her creation for Bryan to see. Dangling from the end of the rope, the scraper head is now the razor sharp end of a makeshift rope whip. “You really think that will work?” asks Bryan. Giving her new weapon a few skillful spins through the air before sending it flying into a two by four block of wood, splitting it in two and sending splinters scattering about Carla replies,“Yep, I think this will do just fine.”
“You scare me…a lot” says Bryan
“So what do you have going there?” asks Carla.
“Oh, I got something awesome. Look at this” says Bryan as he carefully slides the circular saw blade into the groove at the top of the axe handle. Wrapping the rope around the handle and blade Bryan holds up his creation for Carla to see. With its large round blade protruding from the top of the axe handle his creation, a weapon with a near three hundred and sixty degree cutting edge, Bryan looks upon his co
nstructionwith pride. “I shall dub thee….um…Zombie Slayer?” he asks looking to Carla for approval, immediately getting his answer by the wrinkle of her nose. “Okay, how about…um…Dead two point zero, you know because we’re killing zombies and their already dead once so this would be the second…” he starts to explain but the wrinkle of her nose, cute as it is he thinks to himself, clearly indicates her disapproval. “Okay, then you give it a name then.”
“Really? Whatever I call it you’ll be fine with.” She asks, a sly smile, imperceptible in the dim light, trying to creep across her face. “Sure, whatever” he replies.
“Bringing her finger up to the saw blade and looking over at the electric chop saw that they freed it from Carla smiles and says,“Okaythen, its settled. We’ll call it Walter”
“Walter? What kind of name is that for a weapon of death and destruction? That’s not a cool name that inspires fear and dread in its victims.”
“But you said I could name it and that’s what I want to call it” argues Carla, barely able to contain the giggles trying to bubble forth from her chest. Replacing the lid and stacking their newly fashioned zombie slaying weapons, Bryan picks up the tote and tells Carla“C’mon, let’s see what the others have found.
“C’mon” says Justin, taking Helga by the hand.“Let’s go look over there and see what we can find.” Squeezing between two very expensive looking automobiles, Justin leads Helga to the far end of the garage. “Looks like this is where they keep all the yard stuff” explains Justin as he appraises an assortment of lawn care devices. “Looks like a couple of old push mowers, a hedge trimmer and…I think that…yep that is a chainsaw” he says with excitement. “Boo yah grandma, this should last long enough to get us to the house” he starts until, looking at the short, black cord coming out the rear end of the machine“…. well crap, it is electric” he explains looking back at Helga, the usual confused expression on her face. “You really do not understand a word I amsaying do you?” Trying to pretend that she knows what he is saying, Helga gives him a warm smile and nods in agreement. “Thought so.”