I paused at the door.
Grandma reached out for me. If it wasn’t for her stinky room, I would have been devoured. In a sense, she saved my life. I went back and put her out of her misery.
After that, I put down a few more zombies as I made my way to the front door. I used my tomahawk. I wanted to feel the weapon in my hands. I wanted to hear the blade sing through the air. The road outside appeared to be clear. However, there was no sense in taking a chance. I hugged the rock walls and bits of shrubbery as I made my way back towards the Monster’s house.
It took a bit of skill in order to remain undetected. It also took a bit of time. However, the time was well spent. The streets were full of the dead. I couldn’t risk being spotted. Otherwise I’d be spending my time trying to lose my pursuers instead of breaking the Monster.
I hated the man. I wanted to punish him. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to bring him pain. I had just the briefest glimpse of his silhouette in the window, so I really couldn’t picture him in my mind but I was still able to break that shadowy image. I was still able to crush his ribs, and cleave into his skull.
I was almost discovered by the horde in the street numerous times due to my daydreaming as I made my way to the correct house.
Once there, I spared a brief moment to look across the street in order to see how the remnants of my team were doing. Things weren’t horrible. The zombies were concentrating on the house next door instead of my old house. That made sense. All the gunfire and noise were from next door. Still, there were still twenty or thirty curious zombies just loitering around my front yard. They would eventually find their way in like the others had. I was hoping that Dudley and Nick had enough ammo to hold them back.
After I took out the Monster, I planned on healing myself, and making a run for the Jeep. Then, I would head back, and pick up Dudley and Nick after they blazed their way to the vehicle.
I went to the front door of the Monster’s lair. The knob turned in my hand, and I entered. I waited the briefest of moments in order to allow my eyes time to adjust to the darkness. Then I set out, searching for the stairway.
I found it just outside the main hallway. The stairs were carpeted. My footsteps were muffled. I dropped my rifle and let it dangle by the strap. I didn’t plan on shooting the Monster. I planned on ripping him apart with my hands.
My fists clenched and released. For the first time, I realized how cold my fingers had become. I wasn’t sure if that was due to the temperature or the blood loss, but I could feel their coldness through the leather of my half-fingered gloves.
Like my old house, there was only one room upstairs. The door was wide open. I could see a large section of the room. The light was still blazing, but the Monster was no longer in front of the window.
I looked behind me. I was afraid he had outsmarted me and was sneaking up to stab me in the back. He wasn’t. There was nothing behind me but a small table in the short hallway. I waited for him to stand before the window once again. I waited patiently. The end was near. There was no reason to rush anything and make a mistake.
Eventually, he entered my field of vision. He wasn’t a large man. He was smaller than me. He was also unarmed.
I stood up from the shadows and silently approached him.
I crept forward slowly. He had no idea I was behind him. His attention was fully upon the scene taking place below him on the street.
From five feet away I lunged. My hand found the back of his skull, and I slammed his head on the window so hard, the glass cracked. Then I spun him around. His forehead was bleeding but the man was wide-awake. His eyes were wide with fear.
He put a hand upon my chest as if he could push me away. I reached up and broke four of his fingers. He screamed out but I clamped my other hand over his mouth as I forced him to his knees.
“This won’t be over quickly,” I whispered into his ear. “I’m going to spend days taking you apart. Welcome to Hell.”
His eyes began to fill with tears. I struck him in the face but I knew. I knew it but I didn’t want to admit it. He tried to speak, and I hit him again. He began sobbing after that. I released him from my grasp, and he dropped to the floor.
I paced the room in a fury.
“If you have something to say,” I growled. “You better spit it out.”
“I…I…I am not the man you are looking for,” the coward stammered.
No shit. No man that earned the name the Monster among a foreign mafia would start crying like a baby the second he got hurt.
“Tell me where he is,” I growled.
“I…I will take you to him,” the coward said. “That…that is my job.”
Everything clicked.
I was wrong about the trap. The trap was only to separate me from the rest of my team. The bad guys didn’t fire a single shot into the upstairs bedroom. Nick and Dudley were pinned down but I was able to leave easily. I saw the man in the window when I was outside in the front yard. I went after him, and left my team behind.
I was an idiot.
I was outsmarted.
There was only one thing left to do, and that was play the game.
“Let’s go,” I said.
I lifted the man by his collar and shoved him in front of me. We went down the stairs, and as I was about to leave through the front door, he motioned me to the garage. Inside was another one of our Jeeps.
“Upon entering the city,” the coward said, “we stole many weapons and a few vehicles.”
“You also killed many people,” I replied.
“The Monster has declared war,” the coward said. “In war, there are casualties, but the war shall soon end.”
“It’s going to end?” I asked.
“Yes,” the coward answered. “The Monster will soon kill you.”
“Get used to disappointment,” I said.
“Yes,” said the coward. “I understand. You think you can beat him. You cannot. No one can defeat the Monster.”
I didn’t have much to say after that. I kept my weapon aimed at the man, and I let him drive us out of the neighborhood. The zombies were everywhere. They rushed at the Jeep and bounced off the armor. The man didn’t drive very fast, but he drove fast enough to not get surrounded by any large groups.
From a few streets over, I heard the sound of squealing brakes, and the muffled thumps of silenced gunfire. Somebody was coming late to the party, and that didn’t bode well for Nick and Dudley.
“More of your people?” I asked.
“No,” answered the coward.
I didn’t believe him. I wanted to go back to my team. I tapped my earpiece.
“You have company headed your way,” I told Dudley.
“Good guys or bad guys?”
“Undetermined,” I said.
“Fuck it then,” Dudley said. “We made our way to the roof. So, we’re sitting nice and pretty for the time being. You kill that bastard yet?”
“On my way now,” I said.
“I’ll see you when you’re done.”
We eventually made our way to Redd Road. He wove the vehicle in and out of abandoned cars. He even used the large front bumper to push cars out of his way when he couldn’t find an alternate route.
We crossed Doniphan and continued up Redd. We were headed in the same direction as our old Safe Zone.
However, instead of continuing up the road, the coward turned into the large parking lot of the supermarket near Georgie’s house and parked the Jeep. I’ve told you about this supermarket before. I’m not sure if you remember, though.
“Is this the place you tried to go to shortly after the outbreak happened?”
Yes. Then a bunch of shamblers rushed us. I ended up falling out of the Jeep.
“I remember you telling me about that quite well.”
It looked different this time, let me tell you. There were still zombies all over the place but they weren’t exactly moving. Someone had gone ape-shit and killed every single one of them. There were mounds o
f burning corpses piled four feet high in some places.
I could smell the stink from inside the Jeep. It was horrible. I looked to the supermarket. There were lights on inside but not all of them. The interior was shadowy.
“The Monster cleared the way for you,” the coward said. “He does not wish to be interrupted while he kills you.”
“He’s inside the supermarket?” I asked.
“Yes,” the coward answered.
“Thanks,” I said before jamming the blade of my Ti-lite into his neck and killing him.
After his body stopped thrashing around, I got out of the vehicle, and walked around to the driver’s side. I pulled the corpse from behind the wheel, and I pocketed the keys.
I felt good. The pain in my stomach had calmed down somewhat. The oozing blood seemed to have stopped. The pain in my arm was still there but I had full mobility. I was ready.
I moved towards the open glass doors. I could see inside but didn’t see anything important. I looked behind me towards the parking lot at the many mounds of burning corpses. The man that did that would be one hell of fighter. That was good. I wanted him to be a fighter.
I went inside the supermarket.
Most of the overhead lights had been shot out. The ones left intact created a dim and moody atmosphere.
The design of the place was simplistic, an immense rectangular room. Except for the odd piece of trash littering the concrete floor, the place was completely empty, broken up only by large support columns that ran from ceiling to floor. The racks, which created the many aisles and shelves of a typical supermarket, had been pushed off to one side, creating a mountain of debris. There were no lights above the mountain, and as a result, I couldn’t make out much detail in that area.
My eyes scanned from left to right. I saw nothing. I threw my rifle to the floor. I could always grab my pistol if I took any fire, but I didn’t believe that the Monster would shoot at me. He wanted to kill me with his bare hands. For some reason, this man hated me. I didn’t really care why he hated me. I rarely care why anyone hates me. What I cared about were the places his hatred led him.
The stale air of the supermarket was a big improvement from the parking lot. I strained my ears in an attempt to locate the Monster.
Nothing.
Not a sound.
I walked to the center of the vast room, and I pulled out my tomahawk. If the asshole wanted to play hide ‘n’ seek, he was going to play it alone. I was here for a fight.
I heard singing. The open space echoed, so I couldn’t pin down where it was coming from. The voice simply reverberated off the walls, and to be honest, it made me nervous. The Monster wasn’t afraid of me. His voice sounded entirely too calm.
The voice was also off somehow. I’m not sure how to describe it. It sounded metallic. If you’ve ever heard rain pouring down on a tin roof, well it sounded sort of like that, but in a voice. Then the singing was abruptly cut off.
“Welcome to El Paso,” said the tin-sounding voice.
A dark shadow rose up and detached itself from the debris on the far end of the room. I had seen that particular mass of shadow when I entered but I assumed it was just part of a shelf. I was wrong. It was a large man.
At first glance, the man was larger than Nick, and that’s not an easy thing to accomplish unless you’re a basketball player. I’d estimate his height at least around 6’5. He was also very wide. People like to say that my shoulders are huge; I had nothing on this guy. He was about two of me put together.
“The Guardian arrives,” said the Monster.
“I’m going to kill you,” I said. “Then I’m going to go back and kill all your friends.”
“Is your wife dead?” The Monster asked.
I didn’t answer.
“I knew if I went after your wife it would have an effect on you. It would bring out the anger. I want your anger. I want your hatred. It’s best not to give a smart one like you time to think and plan. That’s how you beat me the first time we met. I underestimated your intelligence. You outsmarted me. This time, I believe the shoe is on the other foot.”
The voice was vaguely familiar.
The large man stepped into the dim light.
I didn’t recognize him at first. His face was covered in scars. He wore combat books and camouflage pants. On his chest he wore a black tank top underneath a denim jacket. He slowly removed the jacket, and I saw that the scars also crossed his arms. A glowing disk was attached to his chest directly over his heart.
He stepped a bit closer.
His long black hair gave him away instantly, but the open wound on his left check was no longer quite the same. It had been covered up with a piece of metal that somehow fit flush with the rest of the skin on his face. I was looking at Max.
“Wait a second. You were looking at Max, the former Guardian?”
Yeah.
“But you killed him.”
I did.
“I don’t understand.”
Neither did I.
“Do you remember me, Guardian?” Max asked.
I was at a loss for words. Max wasn’t nearly this large of a person. He used to be skinny and not extremely tall. It looked as if someone had glued his head on top of some behemoth’s body.
Max stepped closer.
His skin had a pale bluish hue. It looked waxy. Not quite human. I took an involuntary step back.
“How?” I asked.
“I have Major Crass to thank for my present condition,” Max answered. “It turns out that he hates you far more than me. I am to handle you, and he is to handle Mr. Hardin. Tell me, have you talked to Mr. Hardin lately? I’m curious to see how he’s holding up against Crass.”
“Major Crass is the man that was running things after Mr. Hardin retired, correct?”
Yeah.
“What happened to him after Mr. Hardin came out of retirement?”
No idea. I never saw him again. Hardin had him out of there long before I ever came back. With all the shit he pulled, I always just assumed they put him in prison.
“I killed you,” I said.
“You did indeed,” Max laughed. “I was the better fighter but my powers were waning while yours were growing. I thought you would be easy prey. I was wrong. It’s a mistake I won’t be making again.”
“Crass wasted his time,” I said.
“How so?” Max asked.
“I’m just going to kill you again.”
I closed the distance between us and swung my tomahawk. Max dodged out of the way. He moved impossibly fast for someone so large. The force of my swing spun me around, and I kicked out with my left leg. My foot connected with his lower stomach, and I heard a great gush of air leave his body.
“A fine hit,” Max said. “I think you have become stronger then I was when I held the mantle of Guardian.”
He swung a meaty fist towards me, and I just barely ducked out of the way. We circled each other. Each of us was looking for an opening; each of us was searching for a drop in the other’s guard.
I got tired of waiting.
I faked low and struck high with my tomahawk. Max fell for it. He blocked low, and I buried my tomahawk in his shoulder. He growled in pain, and jerked away, ripping the handle of the weapon out of my grip.
“Tricky bastard,” Max snarled as he pulled my tomahawk out of his shoulder and casually cast it away. His blood was clear and thick with a pink tinge. It didn’t gush or even flow out of the wound. It seemed to have the consistency of Jell-O.
I came at him again.
I wanted to strike while he was injured. I had no idea if he could heal or not. I dove in low for the take down. Ground fighting wasn’t exactly his thing last time we met. I was hoping it still wasn’t.
I slammed my head into his groin and gripped the backs of his tree trunk-sized legs. I pushed forward with all my might but I couldn’t bring him down. He drove an elbow into my spine that made my legs go weak.
I backed off.
T
hen I came at him again.
I tried to grab him around the waist. I wanted to lift him into the air and slam him on the ground. He was so wide, my fingers could barely touch. Still, I tried to lift him anyway. He slammed a knee into my groin.
I lost air, and even worse, my wound began to bleed once again.
“What’s this?” Max asked noticing the blood dripping to the floor from under my shirt and vest. “You came to me injured? Are you that stupid?”
“Go fuck yourself,” I answered as I pulled free my large Bowie knife.
Max began to laugh.
“Of course you are that stupid,” Max announced. “Don’t you see how well I played you? I attacked your wife. Because of that, you have lost all reason. You are a dangerous opponent because you are so smart but fill you up with rage, and you become a mere plaything. You’ve lost this fight before it ever began, little Guardian.”
I sliced at his stomach. I wanted to spill his guts on the floor. I figured that would slow him down. Most of all, I wanted him to shut the hell up. His mocking voice was driving me insane. My blade sank but the flesh was tough. The cut took effort. It felt like I was using a dull blade. I left my mark but his guts didn’t drop to the floor, instead more of that pink tinged gelatinous fluid oozed slowly from the wound.
Still, the cut had a decent effect. He grunted and folded over. I really went to work on him then. I jumped onto his back and began hammering my knife into his shoulder blades. He screamed in agony, grabbed ahold of my legs, and ran full speed in reverse until my back collided with the nearest support column.
The impact stunned me.
I fell to the floor while Max slowly walked away. He then turned and stared back at me with just the slightest bit of respect. Still, he thought he could beat me. I could see it in his eyes. He really thought he could beat me. He just needed to be a bit more careful
I charged him.
I moved fast. I have to hand it to myself. From a position of injury, I was on my feet, and back in the fight in a frightening instant. It didn’t much matter though. Max dodged me like a bullfighter, and then grabbed me by my bite collar and utility belt. My knife fell from my hand as he spun my body around and hurled me across the room.
Broken (Book 3 of The Guardian Interviews) Page 18