by Bryan Mosier
“Dude, I don’t know about this” admits Bryan,“that’s an awful lot of zombies to kill.” Looking back over his shoulder to the garage, Alex lets out a low“Oh no.” Shining his light back the way they came he can see more zombies, apparently hidden in the darkness, now barringtheir way back to the garage. “Alright, this is it. We fight or we die. Expand the perimeter and do not let them get past you.” Fanning out the group creates a large circle. “Remember, take’emone at a time and we’ll get through this” come the words of encouragement from Alex as each member of the group takes their position.
Helga and Justin are the first to make contact with their undead attackers. Stumbling forth, a large male figure dressed in what looks like the tattered rejects of an Abercrombie ad lurches forth out of the darkness. With a machete in each hand Helga thrusts forward with her left hand, burying the tip of the blade deep into the soft, rottedflesh of the zombie’s chest. She immediately follows up her attack with a hard slash to the zombie’s throat, liberating its head from its shoulders. Freeing the blade from the now limp corpse she turns, ready to take on her next target. Looking over at Justin, his spiked gloves now dripping with black, necrotic fluid, a zombie lying at his feet, she allows herself a brief smile, one that does not go unnoticed by Justin. “I know you do not understand what I am saying but I want you to know I amsorry, and…” he starts as a massive figure reaches out the darkness to grab his shoulder. Spinning to one side to break the monster’s grip, Justin brings his fist around hard, ramming the metal spikes protruding from his knuckles hard into the zombie’s skull. As its lifeless body drops to the ground Justin continues,“…and, I want you to know that what I said. It…It was true.”
As Justin continues to speak, Helga spins and slashes with her two machete blades, slicing through one would be attacker after another. With bodies of the undead now starting to litter the ground, Helga finds herself in the position of dodging both undead and the dead undead that now litter the ground, making the situation ever more precarious.
“I am sorry that I back pedaled and I know I should nothave but…” he starts but the suddensound of Helga’s scream stops him cold. Turning away from the oncoming assault, Justin looks back to see Helga lying on the ground. Lying on the damp pavement of the driveway, her machetes both scattered on the ground out of reach, he sees Helga, holding her knee with a grimace of pain on her face, the horrific form of a large, thick framed zombie, dark gelatinous liquid oozing form its mouth towering over her. In life, this person must have been in the military. Wearing a thin, drab green tank top stretched tightly over what was once an impressive muscular physique and baggy military style pants and boots, its spiked blond hair now tinged red from the blood caked in it. Running over to Helga Justin crouches down over her to offer protection, using his own body as a barrier to separate her from this monster. Looking into her eyes, Justin thinks of all the things he wants to say to her in that instant. Seeing the pain and fear on her face, Justin feels a surge of rage fueled energy well up within him.
Feeling the fire boiling up from his gut, into his chest Justin leaps up, plunging his fist hard into the chin of the zombie that is threatening the woman he loves. Propelling his entire body upward will all his strength, adding force and momentum tohis punch, Justin leaps into the air, the metal spikes of his glove ripping through the flesh and bone of the zombie’s jaw. Blood and flesh explode into the air as Justin’s reaches higher and higher, trailing a halo of gore around his fist with a bloody mist recording its trajectory. Landing back on the ground Justin looks down at the body of the zombie, chunks of flesh mixed with gobs of mattedyellow hair. “Shoryuken…bitch!” he says, spitting the words out as if to add further damage to his enemy. Looking down at Helga on the ground Justin offers her a hand, careful not to poke her with the metal spikes. As he helps her to her feet, he asks“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” looking at the blood trickling from the scrape on her knee from falling on the rough pavement. With a look of understanding Helga nods and with that puts her arms around Justin’s neck and hugs him tightly. Reaching down to pick up one of her machetes Justin offers it to her and asks“Can you still fight?” Taking the machete from his hand, Helga smiles and with an uncanny speed and agility, spins away from Justin, bringing the machete around hard to bury it deep into the side of the skull of an approaching zombie. “That ismy girl” says Justin as he turns to take aim at his next target.
“Well, I hope you’re as good handling a rope as you are a pole… that didn’t come out right?” says Bryan looking over at Carla, her face a mask of stone as she surveys the oncoming mass of undead bodies. Her hand firmly gripping the knotted end of the rope, the other slowly twirling the bladed end in long sweeping circles, Carla eyes a small framed female zombie near the center of the group. The lady’s dress, expensive looking,probably cost more than all of her and her sisters’ clothes combined and the sparkling necklace still dangling from her neck, its skin splotched black and green would probably pay for their little home back in Tennessee. The thought of their home brings a momentary distraction, one that does not go unnoticed by Bryan, seeing the stern expression on her face start to crack, he offers her encouragement.“Go ahead and show these dead freaks what you can do.”
Allowing herself a little smile, Carla steps forward, twisting at the hips to give her strike the full momentum and force her body can generate. With one last hard swirl of the swinging blade Carla torques her shoulder, rotating her elbow forward, propelling the blade through the night air with lethal force. Finding her target, the blade plows hard into the face of the female zombie, burying itself deep into its skull, blood and rotting brain matter erupting from the wound that nearly divides the skull in two. As the limp figure begins to drop to the ground, Carla, with a quick jerk of the rope, rips the blade away from the skull sending it back to her, once again twirling in long circles as she eyes her next target.
Looking over at Bryan, Carla gives a quick wink and says“You just gonna stand there or are you gonna let Walter out to play?” Surprised by his own smile given the gravity of their current situation, Bryan grips the wooden handle of his makeshift battle axe with both hands, lifting it so that the unblemished metal blade is even with his face. Looking at the blade Bryan can’t help but be struck by the craziness of the situation. Reflected on one side of the blade a mass of undead stumbling forward wanting nothing more than to tear his flesh from his bones. With the slightest tilt of the blade Carla, a girl more beautiful than even she knows, a girl that he has become very fond of in a very short time. From deep within his chest Bryan feels a wave of energy flow over his entire body. A wave fueled by feelings and emotions that he, up to this point in his young life, has never experienced.
Giving Carla one last look, Bryan lifts his weapon high over his head, turns to the oncoming zombies and, with every ounce of breath in his chest yells“WALTER!!!” With a hard downward swing the jagged teeth of the saw blade affixed to the end of the axe handle tear through the skull of a male zombie, slicing diagonally down through the top of the skull and exiting through the monster’s eye socket, severing the top quarter of its skull. Maintaining his momentum Bryan spins to his left and in one unbroken motion brings the weapon around, slicing horizontally through the open mouth of another approaching figure, removing everything from the jawline up. With one bone shattering swing after another, Bryan hacks his way through one stumbling figure to immediately move on to the next. The ground is soon piled with the lifeless bodies of his undead victims, the pavement stained with blackened blood and littered with bone and acrid flesh.
Taking a moment to look back at Carla, Bryan feels a sense of pride seeing the multitude of undead lying on the ground around her. “You go girl” he says to himself as he brings his blade hard up under the chin of another zombie, removing its jaw. Using the butt of the makeshift axe he slams the hard wooden handle down, caving in the back of its skull, knocking the undead monsterto its knees. With a quick flourish Bryan spins his weapon, ro
lling the wooden handle around the back of his hand and quickly finishes off his victim by driving the saw blade down hard into its neck, decapitating the monster. “What do you think of that? Not bad, huh?” he yells to Carla. Hoping to find her duly impressed Bryan turns to receive the praise and adulation that, in his mind, he so richly deserves. Instead all he receives is a“DUCK!” followed by a flash of metal and rope as it narrowly misses him as he drops to the ground.
“What the…” he starts but as he looks back over his shoulder his answer comes in the form of a large, rotund zombie crashing to the ground next to him, the metal scraper blade buried deep, dividing its face in two. “Holy crap!” he says as he jumps back to his feet and runs tostand next to Carla.“You need to pay closerattention” she says as she yanks on the rope freeingthe blade from the zombie’s face. “Gotcha” says Bryan as he turns to take aim at the next wave of zombies.
With renewed vigor, Bryan continues to hack and slash through each zombie as they stumble forward. In between face smashing, cranium splitting blows of his axe, Bryan looks to Carla, as much to witness the amazing proficiency with which she handles the rope and blade as to make sure she is still safe. “Hey, over there” he yells, seeing one of the zombies stumbling forth from the crowd. Spinning the blade in a wide circle, Carla looks to where Bryan is indicating and quickly takes aim. “I see it” she says as she spins to one side to get a better line of sight for her shot. Satisfied with the angle Carla bends her elbow, allowing the rope to coil itself around her arm. Stepping forward Carla twists her hips, forcing all the energy of her body to explode outward as she extends her arm hard towards the target, sending the blade rocketing through the coolnight air until finally exploding hard into the neck of the zombie. “Nice shot” says Bryan, as he starts to turn to find his next target when suddenly. “Unh!” comes a grunting sound in a tone too human to be a zombie.
Looking back at Carla, Bryan can see she is struggling with the rope, the blade still buried deep in the zombie’s flesh. “C’mon, let go!” says Carla as she yanks hard on the rope, trying to free the blade. Looking to get a better grip, Carla wraps the end of the rope around her wrist and immediately Bryan yells“No!” but is too late. As the zombie falls backward into the mass of oncoming bodies, the blade still firmly lodged in its neck, the rope pulls taught, tightening around Carla’s wrist and jerking her forward. Falling hard to the ground, Carla can feel the rough pavement scraping against her clothing as she begins to be dragged forward towards the zombies, the rope around her wrist squeezing tighter as the dead body of the zombie anchored to the other end is forced further and further to the back of the pile of zombies making their way towards her. “Hold on” yells Bryan as he brings his saw blade axe down hard on the neck of another zombie. Turning, Bryan sees Carla lying on the pavement, the panic in her eyes as she is only a few feet away from being swarmed by an overwhelming force of zombie attackers. With no time to think Bryan reacts on instinct. Running to her side, Bryan brings his axe high over his head and with all the strength left in his body, brings the axe down hard to the surface. With sparks flying from the metal as it strikes against the hard pavement, the blade slashes through the thin nylon rope tethering Carla to the body of the dead zombie, now lost in the mass of groaning figures.
Grabbing Carla by the hand Bryan yanks her to her feet and pulls her back from the approaching horde. Standing in front of her to separate her from the zombies, Bryan commands “Stay behind me” as Carla, her arm pulled close to her chest, the intensity of the pain on her face matched only by her fear. “You can’t…you can’t getthem all. There’s too many” says Carla, her voice quivering from the pain in her arm. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I’mnot going down without a fight” says Bryan, surprised by the calmness in his own voice. Feeling the gravity of the moment, Bryan, realizing that this may be his last chance, he turns to Carla and says“You know, you’re…you’re pretty amazing you know that.” Leaning in Bryan gives Carla a quick kiss on the cheek and upon pulling away, seeing the sad smile on her face Bryan feels his strength and resolve return. “Okay, let’sshow these dead freaks what real steel feels like.” Turning back to their attackers, their numbers seemingly growing with every second, Bryan lifts his axe over his head, takes a deep breath and then leaps head first towards the crowd of oncoming zombies, arms flailing back and forth as the blade of his axe makes contact with rotten flesh time and time again.
“Okay, we just gottamake sure we don’t let them get behind us and keep moving forward” say Alex, looking at Darla, her face a mask of calm and composure, the only evidence of the very real concern hidden within showing in the slight furrowing of her brow. “Don’t worry, we got this” he says, offering encouragement.
“I know” she replies“We have to…I mean…what’s the alternative?” she continues, trying not to let the tiniest thought of failure take root in her mind and flower into full blown panic. Feeling that twinge of fear trying to creep in, a fear based lessfor her own safety rather the safety of her family and newfound friends. Even more so the thought of what would become of Melody if she was suddenly left all alone in this world. “She’s a tough kid, she would be alright” she says, trying but unable to convince herself. “Back to back, take’emone at a time” says Alex, trying to maintain his own confident façade.
As the first zombies get within striking distance Alex feels the pit in his stomach start to deepen as thoughts of his little brother fill his mind. Thinking about Brandon and Melody alone in that garage, fearing the worst and unable to do anything Alex’s mind starts to drift into a darkness that he feels he may not be able to pull himself back from. Suddenly, the acrid smell of rotting flesh and the sound of a loud gravely groan jerks him back to reality as he realizes he has allowed a zombie to get way too close. Feeling the creature’s hands grip his shirt sleeve, Alex gasps hard and, in an instinctual gesture of self-preservation, lurches backwards and thrusts the blade of his sword upward, making contact with the bottom of zombie’s jaw. Piercing through the soft, rotted flesh with ease, the sword penetrates upward, exiting through the mouth, a fresh shower of black blood and saliva gushing forth.
The zombie, still very much undead, its arms flailing with its bony, talon like fingers clawing at Alex’s shirt, he tries to free the sword form the monster’s face. With blood covering the hilt of his sword as it poursfrom the wound, Alex feels his grip loosen with each twist and jerk of the creature’s body as it continues its relentless assault. Suddenly, the body of the zombie twitches hard, it’s glowing red eyes dimming into black pits as its back arches away from Alex. Watching as its head rollsback, Alex feels the fight leave the creature. Jerking the blade down hard he frees it from the monster’s now motionless corpse. Seeing it fall to the ground, Alex understands as Darla withdraws her own sword, the point of the blade buried into the back of the zombie’s skull. “C’mon, keep fighting” says Darla as she turns to stab another attacker hard through the forehead.
Tightening his grip on his own sword Alex turns and begins his assault on the undead horde facing them. Slashing with efficiency, making every arc of the blade count Alex can feel his mind begin to clear, the doubts and fears from earlier drifting away and being replaced by a razor sharp focus. Time seemingly starts to slow, his perception becoming enhanced as every one of his senses become heightened. Looking at each stumbling figure coming forward, he starts to anticipate their movements and, like a game of chess, begins to work not in the moment but two or three moves ahead. Allowing himself a quick look over his shoulder he sees Darla, her face, much like his, an expression of utter focus and intent. Suddenly, surging forth from the mass of zombies, a large, heavy set figure lurches into the space between Alex and Darla, its massive girth nearly obscuring their view of each other. Darla and Alex both as one, as if working on some nonverbal level of connection, react in unison. Alex, spinning to his left, Darla, spinning to her right, each bring their swords around hard, slicing through the damp night air in a long, horizontal arc.
Both swords make purchase with the thick, blubbery neck of the zombie, slicing simultaneously from each side, liberating the massive head from its gelatinous blob of a body. Not allowing themselves a moment of self-indulgent satisfaction at the skill of their performance, the two continue their assault in stride, each thrusting their blades outward and upward, striking hard into the forehead of two approaching zombies, the symmetry of the attack having the visual artistry of a ballet.
Slashing left and right and feelingthe mass of undead bodies pressing forward with a force soon to reach an overwhelming level, Alex feels himself losing ground, a fact confirmed when he suddenly feels Darla’s back pressing against his. Looking over his shoulder he sees Darla fighting furiously to repel the attack. Beyond her he can see the wide perimeter that they had hoped to maintain now reduced to a space of just a few feet. Bryan hacking feverishly with his homemade battle axe with Carla, injured and unable to fight now calling directions to him, indicating potential targets as they approach and Justin fighting alongside Helga, the toll of the battle evidenced by the sweat rolling down their faces.
Looking around at the group, a feeling of hopelessness takes hold of Alex as he realizes that there is no way out of this fight. Unable to even pause for a moment to give the sentiment the weight it deserves, Alex says to the huddled group,“I’m…I’m sorry guys. I’m sorry I got you all into this.”
“It’s not your fault” says Bryan. “We all chose to be here…and… and if we gottago, well, at least we’re all together.” Feeling the finality in his own words, Bryan looks to Carla and gives her one last smile, wishing he had more time with her.
Feeling the mass of bodies pulseforward in some hive mind like surge, Alex presses the flat of his blade hard against the attacking swarm, using both hands to hold them at bay for as long as he can. “HOLD ON! HOLD…” he yells but the sound of his voice is suddenly lost, drowned out by a cacophony of noise emanating from the garage. With the newfound distraction, Alex feels the weight of the mass of bodies lessen as one zombie after another abandons the assault, instead focusing their instinctual attention and menacing red stare on the stronger source of sensory stimuli.