“This first one? We put them in the yard with the zeds we’ve collected. The ones we trapped. We release them. They put them down.”
“How many?”
“Little bit more than they’re used to.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it. If they’re good and smart, they’ll get them. If not …” Stafford shrugged.
“And the second challenge?”
“It’s unbeatable.” Stafford with the weapons bag in hand, walked out.
<><><><>
Yates tapped his finger on the pane of glass in the window of the principal’s office. “That has to be it.”
“Kind of demented. It can’t be,” Rachel said of the playground. A swing set, bloody slide, and an igloo shaped red monkey bar set. There was blood on the ground and smeared everywhere else.
“Had to be. They have the dead behind the fence.”
“I see them.”
“How many?” Yates asked. “It’s hard to count.”
“Sixteen. I think sixteen.”
Yates cringed. “What’s the record?”
“Well there was that one Eliminator from the Wolf gangs that took out eight, but … he was bit and scratched by the time it was all said and done. Six is the most I have done one on one.”
“Me, too.”
“Those are fresh,” Rachel said. “Not very decomposed. They’ll be fast and hard to put down.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” Rachel faced him. “We have to be smart about this. We don’t know if they are going to release a few or all at once.”
“Please, they’re releasing them all.”
“Then again. We have to be smart. Sixteen can be a piece of cake.”
“What?” Yates laughed.
“Because we never took on sixteen at a time, without guns, doesn’t mean we can’t. Look, the reason this failed for the others is I bet they tried to do the exact same thing the brothers did in the dead show, season three midseason finale.”
“Which was?” Yates asked.
“They put the brothers in a yard with zombies. And then when the dead came for them, they were trying to put them down one at a time. Which was easy for them because in the show they had the zombies waiting their turn. That’s not the way it will happen.”
“Hardly. They’ll all come at once.”
“And we have to deal with them all at once.” Rachel explained. “If we take the time to kill them one by one, by the fourth or fifth we will have taken too much time and it’ll be over. So we need to bring them down first. Old-fashioned way. The way we were originally taught to handle herds.”
Yates nodded. “Yes. We pool them as best we can. Distract. Slice the pops behind the knee or Achilles heel,” he said excitedly, “They’ll fall, they always do. Like cutting the strings on a puppet.”
“Makes them less deadly and then we can hit the heads.
“This could work,” said Yates. “But it will only work if we have our swords. Just a knife will be harder.”
The door opened and Stafford stepped in. He dropped the bag. “Get what you need. We’re ready.”
Rachel looked down to the bag and saw both of Yates swords sticking out. She looked at Yates and smiled.
<><><><>
Like condemned prisoners walking the last bit to an execution, Rachel and Yates walked down the hallway side by side, led by Stafford.
“Nervous?” Yates asked her in a whisper.
“Nope.”
“Me either, I just wish you wouldn’t have taken that shot.”
“I needed the shot. Trust me it helps.”
“So, Stafford, you said no one ever beat this challenge?”
“We’ve had teams kill all the dead, but they would have been zeds by nightfall with all the bites. One man made it to the next challenge.”
“And?” Yates asked.
“He lasted a minute. That’s being generous.”
At the end of the hall, Stafford made a left into the room marked ‘cafeteria’.
Yates stopped walking when he saw a dozen or so people in there. “Spectators?”
“Yep. There are those who like to watch this stuff.”
“It’s sick.”
“People can be twisted,” Rachel said. “Oh my God, Barry.” She rushed to him.
“Hey, you.” Barry hugged her. “I brought your stuff. And I’m going to ask you …”
“No, please don’t,” Rachel told him. “I’m staying to help Yates.”
Yates took in the small cafeteria. The windows were grated over as well as the single exterior door that led to the playground. “Are you staying?”
“Absolutely, I want to see you guys prove this asshole wrong.” Barry leaned forward to kiss Rachel on the cheek. “Were you … were you drinking?”
“I told her not to,” Yates said.
“Let’s go.” Stafford opened the door. “You’re on.”
Yates made eye contact with Barry and nodded to him, then he and Rachel stepped into the yard.
Rachel made the sarcastic comment of, “Aren’t they brave,” When she noticed the four men inside the yard. They wore padded suits, helmets and carried not only side pieces strapped at their waists, but automatic assault rifles as well.
“You’ll appreciate them,” Stafford said. “if you get bit.”
Rachel examined the yard. The L shaped building blocked in half of the playground, the other half was fenced in. It was a big area, only part of it was concrete, a grassy section was near the fence.
In the far corner of the yard were where the dead waited impatiently. They made noise, groaning out, shaking the fence, wanting to get to Rachel and Yates, next to it was one of the padded suit guys.
It reminded her of her training days as an Eliminator. The dead corralled in a makeshift area, waiting to be released. At the other end of the fence, was another fenced in pen, only that was on the outside of the yard. She didn’t see any dead there. With that in mind, she kept her focus on the ones she could see.
“Oh my,” Yates said.
“What?”
“Billman. He’s in there. Still wearing his Eliminator uniform.”
“Oh, shit I’m sorry. I’ll let you put him down if I can,” said Rachel.
“Thank you.”
“Get ready!” yelled Stafford, then he wished them luck as if they were doing some sort of figure skating routine and he walked to the fence, opened up one of the gates, pulled it closed and locked it. He stood on the other side watching from his own front seat view.
Rachel readied her weapon, standing side by side with Yates who held one sword up and the other out.
Barry moved to a section of the windows that was a little away from everyone else. He didn’t want to watch, but he had to. He stood there feeling so helpless.
“It’s about to start,” Barry spoke softly, hoping they heard him. “Not sure if you’re picking up any of this.”
A single jolt for a response caused Barry to jump.
“Son of a gun!” he shrieked without thinking.
The man a few feet from him looked at him. “You okay, old man?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Bug or something. Thanks.” Barry returned his gaze to the yard. When he heard for them to ‘open it up’ he blessed himself with the sign of the cross and held his breath.
The dead didn’t just run, they charged out of that fenced in area, converging together, causing a traffic jam, with one or two breaking free of the pack. They led the way to Rachel and Yates.
He didn’t know what to expect, or how Rachel and Yates would take them on. Perhaps a bold charge forth by them both in a festival of repeated slash and stab. What he didn’t expect was for them to run from the dead.
They both started backing up toward the school together, then Rachel ran one way and Yates, the other.
The dead started to divide off as well, until Rachel pounded her gladius against her honing rod, calling out. “Here! Over here. Come on!”
/> They changed course, focusing on her.
Barry was so worried and concerned for Rachel that he didn’t see where Yates went. Clearly he was able to slip behind the hoard, because before Barry knew it, the back of the group, disappeared.
Questionable, ‘huhs’ and ‘ohs’ erupted from the small group of cafeteria spectators.
Yates raced across the yard to the fence and started to bang on it, “This way! Hey!”
They were too close and focused on Rachel, nothing Yates did caught their attention until he forged forward to them. Barry watched him raise his sword, slice through the back legs of two of them. Their knees buckled and Yates swung out, beheading a third, while still screaming.
The ones on the ground moved, trying to stand, but unable to. They crawled toward Yates and the remaining ones finally turned.
Yates was able to stab though the head of one on the ground before luring those who remained.
Rachel repeated his actions. With the gladius, in a single motion she cut through the back of the knees of the one, bringing up the blade to another and impaling it in the back of the throat.
She left the one that buckled and moved for another, bringing it to the ground the same way.
And then there were six.
Rachel and Yates had succeeded to thin the herd with the oldest Eliminator trick in the book.
The spectators went from shocked to cheering. The noise they created in the cafeteria only served to aid Rachel and Yates. Inadvertently distracting the remaining ones, enabling Rachel and Yates to do what Barry expected and waited for … slice and stab.
Steady, seamlessly and quick.
After not a single stiff remained standing, they walked through and victoriously impaled the heads of those still moving.
It was done. Over, Barry lowered his head in relief. “It’s good. They’re done,” he said softly. “They did it.”
She wasn’t winded, until she stopped. Then Rachel breathed heavily, her shoulders bouncing up and down. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t expecting one or more of the armed padded guards to shoot them. Instead, she was greeted with a slow steady clapping.
Stafford walked into the yard across the carnage. “Well done. Well done. I saw one other eliminator do that and he was the one that made it to the next challenge.”
“When will that be,” asked Yates.
“Tomorrow. Give you guys a chance to relax, eat, drink. Think of it as your last meal.”
“You’re pretty confident,” Rachel said. “You didn’t think we’d beat this one.”
“No, I didn’t.”
As soon as he finished that, Rachel heard it. The demonic growls and snarls. She snapped her views to the once empty pen. It wasn’t empty anymore. A pack of Growlers viciously jumped over each other trying to get out as they eyed those in the yard.
“Fuck,” Yates said.
“Yep.” Stafford gave a shitty grin. “Your next challenge.”
TWENTY-FIVE – RESOLUTION
Liz’s voice nearly squealed with emotion as she met with Barry, Rigs and Fred inside the EPEV. “Dogs? Dogs?”
“They call them growlers,” Barry said.
“I know what they call them,” Liz said. “How many?”
“Stafford said six,” Barry answered. “I swore I saw seven. Who knows?”
“Oh my God,” Liz’s hand covered her mouth.
“I don’t think even giving up the EPEV will do it. This guy is sick,” Barry said. “He wants Yates dead and wants to enjoy every moment.”
She bit her bottom lip. “When is this slated to go down?”
“Noon,” replied Barry. “They’ll let one of us in.”
“It has to be me,” said Rigs. “I need it to be me.”
“No. No.” Liz waved out her hand. “No one goes tomorrow, because we get them tonight.”
“We go in there, guns blazing,” Rigs said. “We chance them just killing Rachel and Yates.”
“They’re killing them tomorrow with dogs!” Liz yelled. “We go tonight we give them a fighting chance. Obviously there is no negotiating with this monster. So we go and we storm his compound.”
“Only one thing,” Rigs said. “It’s not a compound. It’s a town, with families, children. We go in there hostile we will be met with resistance and a lot of angry people when we win. Our whole purpose as Eliminators is to eliminate the bad in this world to make it a better place to live. We are defeating our purpose if we don’t save those already there. We need to find a way to take out Stafford and his gang. Take him out, the structure will fall.”
“Or,” Barry added. “You can be kind and bring him to justice. Show everyone we aren’t the bad guys here. Maybe go tonight and show force. That might do it.”
“Rigs, Barry. I get it,” Liz said. “I do. But we can not take a chance. You … shouldn’t want to take a chance. You know the only way to kill Growlers is to shoot them. They are too fast. Rachel and Yates may be fast enough to take down one each, but the others will rip them apart before they can withdraw their swords. There’s no other way.”
Fred spoke up. “What if there is?”
Liz looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I have an idea. Hold on.” Fred raced into the EPEV and returned. He held what looked like a slightly larger flashlight in his hand. “What if tomorrow at noon, you are ready to go in, Rigs is a great shot. What if he helps them out and you stand by to take down Stafford?”
“I would do that in a heartbeat,” Rigs said. “With a good automatic I could take out three or four right away. But they check and pat me down for guns.”
Fred handed him the flashlight.
Rigs chuckled and turned it on. “What am I supposed to do? Beam them to death.”
“Open up the bottom.”
Rigs unscrewed the bottom, instead of batteries sliding out, a small pistol and clip rolled out. The pistol looked as if the handle had been cut off, when in fact, the clip was fashioned as a handle that snapped on.
“Holy shit,” said Rigs.
“Pretty nifty,” Fred said. “That Al thought of everything. I suggest you practice tonight. You are gonna have to be faster than a one-legged man in a butt kicking competition to open it, get it, snap it together, aim and shoot before the first dog takes a bite.”
“Fred,” Liz spoke compassionately. “It’s a great thought, but even Rigs admitted he could only get a few.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you are so nice.” Fred smiled. “But I got us a whole plan.”
<><><><>
The sound of pouring liquid carried in the quiet teachers’ lounge where they held Rachel and Yates locked and under armed guard.
“I wish you wouldn’t drink,” Yates said. “At least so much.”
Rachel turned from the window. “You want me on my A game tomorrow?” she joked.
“This isn’t funny. You should call for Stafford now. Or better yet, when Barry or Rigs gets here tomorrow, you leave with them.”
“No, other than the fact I don’t think Stafford will let me. You need a fighting chance.”
“There is no fighting chance with Growlers. You know that. They may stare you down for a minute, but when they pounce, you’re done.”
“A minute. Yeah.” She sighed out loudly, walked to the weapon bag then over to Yates who sat on the floor. “All I need is a minute.”
“Really?” Yates asked sarcastically.
“Look, a year ago, I lost my son. I never got to say goodbye. I watched my daughter get torn apart and my husband, he sacrificed himself so she wouldn’t die alone.”
Yates looked at her. “Like you're doing?”
“Sort of. I have been on borrowed time, Yates. I became an Eliminator because I hated these things. I didn’t fear death. I don’t fear it. I have no family left. No one depending on me.”
“I think Rigs and Barry would argue that,” Yates said.
“Maybe. But … I’m ready and okay with dying.”
“Me, too,” Yates sai
d. “However, I didn’t imagine my death at the jaws of a pack of zombie dogs.”
“Neither did I.”
“It will be painful.”
“No, it won’t.” Rachel extended her hand to him.
Yates looked down to the object she dropped in his palm. A brown ball, it looked rubbery and not much bigger than a pea. “It’s a kill pill,” he said.
“They issued them, remember, early on. I always kept them in my bag. I didn’t imagine myself ever being in the position to use it. It will suck to go out that way, but it’s better than being torn apart. You said a minute. You can swallow that and it won’t hurt you. But …”
“Bite down,” Yates said. “Death comes in a minute.”
“If there’s no other option, they open those gates, we bite down.”
Yates looked at it in his hand. “Thank you.”
There was silence. A long moment of silence between them, the only inkling of a sound was Rachel sipping her drink.
Then Yates jumped up suddenly. “Oh my God, I got it.”
“What?”
“I can’t believe it. I got it. I really got it.”
“What?” Rachel asked excitedly.
“Ready?”
Rachel nodded.
Yates began to sing in the melody of American Pie. “So high five, we take it in stride. We … suit up and we roll in, the dead they can’t hide.” He snapped his finger with a smile. “Eliminators coming in their cool ass ride. Putting down the ones that don’t die. Putting down the ones that don’t die.”
Rachel just stared.
“Huh? Huh? It’s good, isn’t it?”
“Seriously, the last night of our lives and you’re thinking about the missing Chorus to Rigs’ Parody of American Pie?”
“It was really bothering me.” Yates sat back down. “Now it isn’t. I feel so much better.”
“The chorus made you feel better?”
“Strange huh? But hey, something gave me resolution. And on this last night, having something resolved is important.”
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