Zombie Kong
Page 3
No more.
It was time to take a stand.
The time for resolution was today.
As he stepped outside with the bitch’s keys and identification snug in his pocket, another building crumbled to the ground, unloading a fresh cloud of dust and debris across what was quickly becoming a wasteland.
Looking left, he could see several policemen firing at the giant beast while another officer, standing alone among the dead, loaded his weapon. Looking right, he watched the path of destruction continue. Cars were being flipped over. Telephone poles were being smashed apart. The monster was on the move.
And there she was, the bitch-woman: Candice Wanglund, running down the street without a care in the world.
Who did she think she was?
What gave her the right?
Hands opening slowly, then snapping into fists, Kirby followed. With blood flowing down his face and a feverish sweat escaping from his pores, thoughts of committing murder were overwhelming him, making residence in the forefront of his mind.
CANDICE
Guns were firing and people were screaming. There was a giant blaze in the center of the road. Zombie Kong was close to the blaze, trotting along the asphalt, snarling and angry and searching for another mouth-sized meal. The ugliness of his face was absolute.
Candice needed a safe place; that much was obvious. But where?
Without giving it much thought, she made her way past a burning car and towards a three-story apartment building on the far side of the road. It was an older structure; one that was built in the 1920s and had time-weathered gargoyles perched on the rooftop. It didn’t occur to her until she was on the doorstep that the heavy-looking door might be locked. Thankfully, it wasn’t. With a shove and a grunt she was inside, pulling Jake to the center of a gloomy foyer where there was no elevator in sight, only a couple of mystery doors and a dingy staircase that had been walked on a hundred million times.
Upstairs or down?
She began making for the basement before the image of Zombie Kong knocking over the building, burying her alive in the rubble, came crashing in.
She didn’t want to be in the basement.
Upstairs was a better bet, so up they went, all the way to the third floor. After jostling their way through a grimy access door, they entered a hallway that was in desperate need of modern light fixtures and a fresh coat of paint. The run-down building seemed eerily quiet, too quiet, as if––
Pause. “Hello?”
Nothing.
“Hello? We need help!” Candice rapped her knuckles against a door marked 302. Without waiting, she tried her luck with 301 and 303, which were beside each other on the opposite side of the hall.
“Where is everyone?” Jake asked.
“Gone. I bet everyone in the building was evacuated as soon the town became a war zone.”
“What are we going to do?”
Candice’s eyes narrowed. She placed her hand on the nearest doorknob and discovered that the door was unlocked. Pushing it wide, she whispered, “Hello? Anybody home?”
No response.
A shrug.
They stepped inside and Jake closed the door. “How did you know that the door would open?” he asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
The sounds of the battle on the street were frighteningly loud. The apartment wasn’t safe. It was, however, small and surprisingly pleasant. A widescreen television was attached to a wall across from a stylish couch. The original hardwood floors had been sanded and stained a warm brown color. There was a laptop computer and a printer sitting on a beautiful oak desk next to a small wine rack that was 90% stocked. In the left hand corner of the room, an old but gorgeous bow window allowed a great deal of light to shine throughout the space.
Candice was surprised.
Jake might not have noticed that the decor was too nice for the apartment, but she did. She couldn’t help but wonder why someone would leave a home unlocked inside of a rundown building if they owned such nice things. But then she looked out the window and figured people had left in a hurry. Her new perspective offered a clear view of the area around her, both east and south. What she saw was terrifying.
The town was destroyed.
Turning away, she said, “Jake, are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay.”
“Great. I’m going to––”
There was a monstrous roar, loud enough to make her flinch. She spun around quickly and was taken aback by her view of Zombie Kong. The great beast was standing in front of the window with its arms raised and fury dominating its pure white eyes. A huge trail of intestines littered the area beneath its feet, roping their way from its midsection, along the creature’s leg, down to the road.
“Jake,” Candice muttered, barely loud enough to distinguish. “Move away from the window. Quickly, move away.”
Kong’s arms came smashing down. Massive fists pounded the road, causing cracks to appear in the pavement. At the same moment, Jake took one step back, but Candice did not. She couldn’t. The pandemonium playing out before her was drawing her attention like nothing else could. She could see policemen and townspeople alike, standing in the street, openly firing their weapons with a complete disregard for safety. It was clear that they were determined to bring the monster to its knees, even if it meant sacrificing their own lives in the process.
The gunfire continued for another few seconds before Candice was handed the shock of her life.
It was Dale! Her husband, Dale––suspended in the air, hanging half-in and half-out of Kong’s abdominal area with his arms flopping and his head bouncing in whichever direction gravity demanded it.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, with her thumb at her teeth.
Dale was dead.
He had to be dead, didn’t he?
Kong spun left, and as a result, Dale slipped free and fell to the ground, landing awkwardly in the mound of intestines.
The next few seconds seemed to last a lifetime, while Candice grappled with the reality of the situation.
She forged a plan––a simple one, and a dangerous one.
Turning towards her son, she said, “Jake, stay right here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“What?” he said. “You’re leaving?”
“I need to––”
“Mom, no! Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”
“Jake, I––”
“Mom!”
“Listen!”
“No! If you’re going somewhere, let me come with you!”
Candice considered, and promptly disregarded her son’s request. She stepped forward, grabbed Jake by the hand, and dragged him towards the window.
“Look!” she shouted. “Look! Do you see what that is? That’s your father on the street and he needs help. I’m going out there to get him!”
Jake didn’t know where he was supposed to look; his eyes were flickering from one thing to the next. “Where?”
“Right there! See?”
Dead bodies. Squashed cars. Weapons firing. People running. Smashed buildings. Smoke. Ash. Dust. Fire. Kong.
“I don’t see––”
“There!”
Jake saw it.
At first, he wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but then he knew. His father was lying beneath Kong, a moment away from being stepped on and killed––if he wasn’t dead already.
“Is that––? Are you sure?”
“That’s your Dad, Jake. He’s on the road, I’m going out there to save him, and you’re staying right here. Don’t… move… a muscle.”
“But––”
“But nothing. I’m going, and you’re not coming with me. It’s too dangerous.” Still holding Jake by the hand, she dragged him into the center of the room, away from the conflict. “Now listen to me, Jake. I don’t want you to leave this apartment, not for any reason, you hear?”
A reluctant nod of the head. “Yes.”
“Okay?”
&
nbsp; “Okay.”
“Promise me.”
“Mom, I promise. I won’t go anywhere.”
“And don’t look out the window.”
“What? Why not?”
“Stay away from the window, Jake. I mean it. The last thing we need is for the monster to notice you.”
Jake’s eyes shifted, and for a moment he was lost in thought. He said, “It is a monster, isn’t it?”
She nodded, and admitted, “Yes, Jake. It is.”
“You said monsters don’t exist.”
“I was wrong. Now stay here and behave. I’ll be right back.”
Without kissing her son goodbye, or giving him a hug, or telling him that she loved him, Candice made for the door. With so much on her mind, she never thought twice about it. But Jake did. So while tears formed in the boy’s eyes, Candice was running the length of the hallway and through the grimy access door. She flew past a fire extinguisher and down the stairs, two at a time, until she found herself in the front foyer. She slowed her pace as she approached the front door. After taking a deep breath, she opened the door and slowly stepped outside.
The gunfire continued. Kong was standing in the center of the street, pounding his chest. He released a horrific roar and turned away.
Dale was still there, still lying among the intestines that littered the street. If she was going to save him, this was the time.
“On the count of three,” she whispered. “One, two… three…”
She didn’t move.
What the hell am I going to do? she questioned. Just run out there and grab him?
Yes. Just run out there and grab him, then drag him to safety.
That’s crazy.
Of course it is.
I can’t do it.
Yes, you can.
Really?
Yes.
What if he’s already dead?
Just do it. Do it. Dale needs you.
But…
Just go.
Go!
Kong, in a state of rage, pummeled a foot against the ground, missing Dale by less than two feet.
Suddenly Candice was running. And screaming.
Her plan was so friggin’ stupid, so foolish! But there she was, racing towards the monster like an idiot, straight into the mouth of madness.
The gunfire stopped at once, as if every cop and wannabe trooper had been given the order. But that wasn’t the case. They could see Candice: the crazy woman that was trying to get herself killed. One voice shouted, “What is she doing?” Another voice insisted, “Get away from there!” Kong turned his head quickly, knowing something was happening.
Candice kept running. She didn’t care.
She was less than twenty feet from Kong and getting closer by the second.
This was it. If she died, so be it. At least she would die trying to save the man she loved. Wasn’t that an honorable thing to do? Wasn’t that courageous? Dying like a hero was worth something, right?
Fifteen feet.
But what about Jake? What about the boy she loved? What would happen to her son if he lost his mother and his father both? What would he do? Who would take care of him?
Ten feet.
Candice realized that she hadn’t thought things through.
Oh, God, she thought. I left Jake alone. I told him to wait for me. I told him not to move a muscle. What was I thinking? What have I done? What will happen to my boy if I don’t survive this incredibly idiotic mission?
I didn’t even kiss him goodbye!
I didn’t tell him that I love him!
Five feet.
And I do love him! I love him more than anything! Oh shit! This is a mistake! What I’m doing right now is a mistake! A giant mistake! What will happen if Zombie Kong starts kicking the shit out of the apartment building?
What will Jake do?
Will he just stand there, and…
NOT… MOVE… A MUSCLE?
Damn!
Candice found herself tripping across huge intestines. Before she knew it would happen, she was down on one knee, leaning over her husband with Kong standing above––roaring, snarling, and slamming a tight fist into an open palm.
“Dale!” Candice shouted. “Dale! Are you okay? Are you all right? Speak, damn you… speak!”
But Dale, covered in rancid smelling slime, wasn’t speaking. He wasn’t saying anything. He couldn’t. He was either dead or unconscious.
Dead. Surely he’s dead, she thought, when the world became quiet. Too quiet. Yes… the sounds of a town gone mad were still there, but something was different. Something had changed.
Candice looked up.
And realized that Zombie Kong was looking down. Its eyes, huge and milky white, sat wide upon its face; its gaze was heavy upon her, not following her, for she was not moving. She couldn’t move. Fear had bonded her to the earth.
JAKE
“What are you doing here, child?”
Jake spun like a top, startled by the voice.
In his mind, he had already come to the conclusion that whoever was asking the question would be someone terrible, someone who extracted a great deal of pleasure from torturing little boys who had been left alone in strange places, someone like that nasty fellow in the restaurant, the insane man who tried to kill his mother. Or perhaps it wasn’t someone like the man from the restaurant; perhaps it was the man from the restaurant. Of course, the voice sounded different––very different. But what if it was a trick? Nasty-man could be tricky, he was sure of it.
It was no trick.
In the doorway was a woman he had never seen before, an attractive lady with dark skin and short dark hair. Her accent was Brazilian, not that Jake was able to place it. He couldn’t. From the look of her, she seemed more puzzled than angry, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be terrible.
Terrible people could be disguised in pretty packages. He needn’t look any further than Mary Hershel, the girl living across the street, to have proof of that. All the boys in the neighborhood seemed to think the sun and the moon inhabited the sky just to please her, but if her outsides could represent her insides, Jake figured Mary would look like an alligator.
“Are you alone?” the woman asked.
Stepping away uneasily, Jake said, “My mom will be back in a minute.”
“Where is she?”
“We were trying to get away from the monster.”
Confused, the woman asked, “Did I leave my door open?”
“It was unlocked. We weren’t doing anything bad, we just needed a place to go.” He doubted the woman would believe him. Adults never believed it when kids said everything was okay. They only seemed to believe kids when they were coming clean and admitting they did something wrong. Apparently that’s what kids were best at: doing something wrong.
“So… your mom, where is she?”
Jake pointed towards the window. “Outside.”
“She left you here?”
“Like I said, she’ll be back in a minute.” Jake felt salty tears forming in his eyes, followed by the ugly feeling of confused shame.
The woman walked towards the window quickly, leaving the door to the apartment wide open. Before she made it across the room, she was taken aback by the sight. The gunfire had stopped, but Kong was in plain view.
She turned towards the boy. “This is no good.”
Apologetically, Jake said, “I’m sorry,” feeling as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “We didn’t come into your place for any reason… other than needing a place to go. My mom… she’ll be back in a minute. She’ll tell you the same thing when she gets here.” His eyes pleaded with her, begging her to understand. Because the last thing he needed was trouble. More trouble.
“I don’t care about that. I’m just saying, we shouldn’t be here… at all. It isn’t safe.”
“Oh.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jake. Jake Wanglund.”
“Jake, my name’s Latina. I
came back to grab some things. Then I’m leaving and so are you.” She walked across the room to the oak desk and opened a drawer.
“But I can’t. Mom says––”
“Yes, you can.”
“No––”
“This is my home, child. Not yours. That puts me in charge, so listen a second.” She pulled a metal box from the desk drawer, sat it next to the computer, and opened it. Inside the box was fifty-odd dollars in loose change and more than two hundred in bills. She folded the bills in half, slid them into her back pocket, and closed the lid. “I was just at my sister’s place. Her name’s Tobi. She lives in this same building, on the first floor. But she lives on the other side of the building, away from that… that… thing.”
“Mom says it’s a monster.”
“And your mom is right. It is a monster, and I’m sure your mom doesn’t want you getting hurt.” She lifted a sheet of paper from the printer and pulled a pencil from a cup. “What’s your last name again?”
“Wanglund.”
She wrote a quick note, pulled a roll of Scotch Tape from drawer, clipped off a piece, and fixed it to the paper. She walked across the room and stuck the note on the exterior side of the door. “When your mother comes for you she’ll know where to find you, and she’ll be happy about it, child. She’ll be glad you’re with an adult. Trust me. It’s a little safer there.”