New Title 8

by McKenzie, Shane

  And then his shorts were pulled down at the same time the massive hand gripped the back of his neck again.

  “Hey! What the fuck—”

  A sharp pain in his right ass cheek, then a burning sensation flowed throughout his body. He was released and immediately fell to his knees, grimaced and whimpered as the fluid coursed through him. He already knew it was steroids before the needle hit the ground. The same needle that Crow had used on himself.

  “You feel that power running in your blood?”

  Sid’s mouth filled with the sting of alcohol, and he tried to spit it out but couldn’t make the taste go away. Then he was yanked to his feet and slammed backward into the incline press bench. Crow slid off a couple of weight plates from each side of the bar, which Sid was thankful for, but the amount of weight remaining was still way more than he could handle.

  “You wanna beat the monsters, kid?” Crow nearly crushed Sid’s fists in his as he lifted them, then forced Sid to wrap his fingers around the bar. “You gotta be one.”

  And Crow lifted the bar off the rack and released it.

  ***

  “Please,” Sid said. He was on his hands and knees, barely able to hold himself up after nearly four hours of lifting. After the initial burn of the steroids working their way through him, there was no adrenaline rush, no burst of energy like he’d always imagined. He didn’t feel like a fucking monster.

  “Pathetic,” Crow said and shoved Sid in the side with his bare foot. “You won’t last one minute out there.”

  Sid grimaced as he lay on his side. His shirt had soaked completely with sweat and it felt like every muscle in his body was torn, shredded. He couldn’t breathe without gasping. Just lying there like that felt so good.

  “Get up.”

  “I-I can’t.”

  “I said get up!”

  “Fuck you!”

  Crow’s foot collided with Sid’s belly and all air in his lungs exploded out and left him with none. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to suck in oxygen, but his throat was pinched, and he rolled from left to right as his legs kicked.

  Then Crow’s face was hovering inches above his, spittle and sweat raining down. “We ain’t done. Not even close.” The cords in his neck bulged like metal cable under his skin. He chuckled lightly as he walked away toward the locker room.

  Sid’s airway opened up and he feasted on the oxygen as he watched and waited for Crow to disappear around the corner. He gave it a minute before he moved, then struggled to rise to his feet. As sore as he was now, he knew he’d be as stiff as a corpse tomorrow.

  If tomorrow ever comes.

  He was convinced that Crow would kill him before the zombies got a chance to. Or worse.

  He’s mine now.

  Sid shambled his way across the gym toward the front desk. Gabe was squatting over the bloated dead boy’s body, studying the caved in flesh that was once its head. Gabe leaned in close, nearly toppling over, and sniffed.

  “What are you doing?” Sid said, then winced at the pain in his chest, stomach, and arms.

  “The slime is rising. Won’t be long now.” Gabe didn’t even look up at Sid as he spoke, biting his lip he started to reach out toward the green meat.

  “Don’t touch that, man.”

  But Gabe already had his finger on the flesh, prodding it. The flesh looked dried out, like jerky, as if all the juice had been drained. A puddle of congealed slime lay beneath it.

  “Why does he hate me?” Gabe stood and finally turned to look at Sid. “Did he tell you?”

  It took Sid a moment to realize Gabe was talking about Crow. “Trust me, you’re better off. He almost fucking killed me.” Sid checked the hallway leading to the locker room, but Crow was still nowhere in sight. “What do you mean the slime is rising?”

  “Look for yourself.”

  Sid didn’t think his body could handle it, but he tried anyway. Taking it slow he climbed the stack of weight plates and benches by the front doors. Getting just high enough to see over the heads of the zombies piled up in the parking lot and into the street beyond.

  The street was a raging river of viscous slime. The green ooze was high enough to conceal cars up to their roofs. It bubbled as it flowed, wisps of steam rising from it. Sid wondered if the stuff was eating away at the ground itself. Melting the concrete below it into liquid magma.

  His stomach dropped into his feet as he watched the river flow violently on, splashing slime into the parking lot. The zombies standing below him had their full attention on him now, the pudding-like substance exuding from their eyes and nose and ears. The stuff covered them completely like green, melted icing. The bloated flesh had begun to crack again as the sun slowly baked them, the fat and meat below was the color of cooked spinach, and they took turns soaking their bodies in slime as they shambled toward the street and hopped into the river. Sid could see them bobbing on the surface, rolling in the ooze.

  Sid’s stomach bubbled as he took another look at the zombies closest to him. Every mouth was torn wide, cheeks ripped open. And they smiled in at him. The green gunk dripped from the puckered tooth holes in their gums, their tongues dyed a dark emerald, glistening like melting slugs.

  Sid could tell which ones used to be men, women, and children because of their proportions and sexual organs. The men’s penises hadn’t swelled up like the rest of them, and only the tip was visible between their legs like a crabapple pissing a constant stream of steaming green. But regardless of age or sex, they all almost looked the same, their resemblance to one another striking. Fat and soaked to bursting with glop, like corpses that had been floating in the ocean for months and filled with noxious gas. Each of them naked, hairless…and green.

  Vomit spewed past puffy, split lips and splashed across the glass, oozing or squirting from all other holes. From where he stood, Sid could see that the glass was weakening. It looked thinner, warped in places. Crow was right about one thing. It was only a matter of time before they got inside.

  Sid carefully climbed back down and went straight for the protein bars. He shoveled a chocolate peanut butter Powerbar into his mouth, and was already opening another as he chewed the last of it.

  The TV stations still showed no sign of emergency. Sid grabbed the remote again and flipped through the channels, checked Channel 8 where the news played pretty much around the clock. The date in the corner was for yesterday. Something was definitely fucked, and Gabe’s theory about a cover up was beginning to seem more likely.

  But if the government did this, could they really get away with it? How could nobody else know what was happening!

  Sid nearly choked on the protein bar when he noticed Crow standing on the other side of the gym, glaring at him. Sid expected him to charge across and grab him again, but the big fucker only snickered and headed back toward the weights.

  Sid couldn’t believe the guy had it in him to continue lifting. Crow was a machine, impervious to fatigue and fueled by insanity. Crow had now moved on to squat press, and he glared at his reflection in the mirror as he went up and down, his hands white as he gripped the metal bar resting on his shoulders. He bared his teeth as he squatted, roared and rained spittle as he rose back up, his face maroon with pressure. The workouts seemed to grow in intensity as he went, pushing himself harder and harder, grunting and shouting as he lifted. He’d already done bench, incline, and decline press. Curls, military press, skull crunches, dead lifts. After all of that, Sid wanted to curl up and die, but Crow roared as he pushed on.

  Crow had stripped down to nothing but spandex shorts that were little more than boxer briefs. He looked like a professional wrestler, his body oiled with sweat, every muscle popping, swollen to bursting and crisscrossed with veins.

  Sid rubbed the back of his head as he watched. His skin itched and he was filled with an anxious-feeling he couldn’t shake. He rubbed the spot where the needle had penetrated his flesh and tried swallowing down the spiky ball of dread that had formed in his throat.

>   As he watched Crow beast through his workout, he couldn’t get the term “roid rage” out of his head. Sid had no idea what that looked like, but if anyone had a case of roid rage, it was Crow.

  The musclehead kept shooting glances toward Sid between sets. Hard stares that nearly made Sid jump through the window and dive right into that fucking slime.

  Gabe was oblivious to it and was back at the window, sitting Indian-style in front of it. A little girl grinned down at him and sprayed her acid.

  “We have to do something about him,” Sid said. “Before he fucking kills us both.”

  Gabe didn’t answer, reached up and palmed the glass.

  “Gabe,” Sid whisper-yelled. “Come on, man. What the fuck are we gonna do?”

  “Why did you call them zombies?” When Gabe turned to face Sid, he was smiling. “Before. Why did you call them that?”

  A sigh steamed from Sid’s throat. “I don’t know what else to call them. You saw that shit. That woman…the way the slime—”

  “They are the slime,” Gabe said. “That shit got inside of them, ate away at them until there was nothing left of who they used to be. Now there’s only the slime.” He chuckled. “That’s what I think anyway. That shit’s controlling them, man.”

  There was a long silence and Sid found himself nervous to look Gabe in the face. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of that green shit actually did soak into his friend’s flesh.

  Is that it? The slime is controlling them, using them to get at us?

  As Sid was avoiding Gabe’s face, he noticed something gleaming on the desk. He couldn’t believe he didn’t see them before and he shoved off the wall and dashed for them. A set of keys sat on the desk and Sid wrapped his fist around them, gripped them hard. Fucking Tom’s office! Tom always kept his office locked up when he wasn’t there. But he always took the keys with him.

  A burst of hope hit Sid in the chest like a shotgun blast, and he nearly trampled Gabe as he ran by. “Tom’s keys,” Sid said. “Come on.”

  Gabe furrowed his brow, and though he didn’t seem quite as excited as Sid, he followed. As Sid unlocked the door, he noticed at the corner of his eye that Crow was already moving toward them. Though Sid knew there was no exit within the office, he still hurried to unlock it. Swung it open and rushed inside.

  He didn’t know what he’d been hoping to find, but found himself disappointed and deflated as he took in the contents of the small office. Nothing but a cheap desk with an outdated computer sitting on top of it. Other than that there were framed photos of Tom’s family, three boxes of protein bars stacked in the corner, and a file cabinet stuffed full of members’ information. A small digital clock sat at the corner of the desk and told Sid the sun would be going down again soon.

  Gabe stood at the doorway, scratching his head. In the next second he was thrown out of Sid’s sight and Crow stood in his place, face red and full of poison.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?”

  Sid had already made his way behind Tom’s desk. He arranged the keys in his fist so they were sticking out like claws from between his fingers. “Nothing, man. I found these keys…just seeing if there’s anything in here that can help us.”

  Crow searched the room with squinted, razor eyes. He stomped his way across the office and ripped open a box of protein bars. He rifled through it, then did the same to the remaining two boxes. “You hidin’ something from me?”

  “Hiding? I just got in here.” Sid arched his eyebrows and softened his expression. “I’m gonna check to see if the internet is working, okay? Maybe we can get some help…get someone to come rescue us.”

  The computer was already on and as soon as Sid touched the mouse, the screensaver—which was a slideshow of Tom holding his trophies and medals—disappeared and the desktop was there.

  “I told you already, kid. There’s no help comin’ for us.” Crow nudged Sid out of the way with his shoulder as he rummaged through the desk drawers, but found nothing but office supplies and paperwork.

  The gym began to glow slightly as the night descended and the zombies’ eyes lit up. More regurgitating sounds, more splashing and groaning.

  Crow looked Sid up and down and sucked his teeth, reached out and patted him on the ass hard enough to make Sid wince. “See you in the morning.”

  Gabe had just enough of his head in the doorway for his eyes, and when Crow turned, Gabe yelped softly and disappeared. A deep chuckle rumbled from Crow’s chest as he walked out of the office.

  Sid realized he’d been holding his breath, and as soon as Crow was gone, he had to gasp to catch it. Gabe quickly sidestepped his way into the office and started to shut the door.

  “No,” Sid whispered. “He’ll just fucking break it down.”

  Gabe widened his eyes and shrugged, then crept his way to the desk. “Tom was right. That fucker’s insane.”

  “Shit,” Sid said and flicked the mouse away with his fingertips. “No fucking internet. Should have guessed.”

  “What about the radio?”

  “Radio?”

  Gabe pointed to the digital clock at the corner of the desk. A clock radio. Sid almost got excited but figured it would be as useless as the televisions and computer.

  “Might as well try.” Sid clicked it over to the Radio setting and slowly nudged the dial. The radio seemed even more useless than the TV. There was only static, sometimes a tiny ghost of music, but never anything clear.

  “…slime…”

  The voice had been smothered with crackly static, but there was no doubt in Sid’s mind that he had heard that word. He backed the dial up until the static quieted down, and the man’s voice struggled to fight through it.

  “Did you hear that?” Gabe said. “Go back, go back.”

  “Shhhh. I’m trying, just shut up for a second.”

  “…anyone out there, don’t touch it. Don…near it. People are…and it…”

  “Come on, damnit.” Sid slapped the radio, pounded a fist on the desk. The voice faded out back to the maddening hiss of static and no matter how slowly and carefully he turned the dial, he couldn’t find the man’s voice again. “No…no!”

  “Let me try,” Gabe said. He pulled the clock down into his lap and sat on the floor, tongue clamped between his lips as he worked at it.

  Whoever that voice belonged to, he was alive, somewhere in their town. Maybe he knew something they didn’t. Maybe he could help them. Either way, it was the only sliver of hope Sid had felt since the whole thing started, and he was going to cling to it.

  They took turns with the radio when the other would get frustrated, but they could never get that voice back. Sid wanted to scream and throw the fucking radio against the wall, but he set it down on the desk along with his head, moaned and squeezed his hands into fists.

  “Maybe if we plugged it in by the front. Might get a better signal closer to the window, don’t you think?” Gabe unplugged the clock and raised his eyebrows.

  “Yeah, maybe. Worth a shot, anyway.”

  But it was much of the same. Endless, abyssal static. Whoever that man was, he had either stopped talking or was drowning in the crackly nothingness. Or he was a figment of my imagination, Sid thought. Mine and Gabe’s too. Mass hysteria.

  Crow’s grizzly bear snores roared from across the gym. He lay on the same mat as before, hands crossed behind his head. Naked. His bare body continued to perspire even as he slept. His skin looked covered in emeralds as the slime’s light reflected off the sweat beads.

  Sid slid the radio away from him and slapped the desk hard, sending stinging vibrations into his palm. “This is bullshit. Goddamnit.”

  ***

  Gabe was standing by the window again, and he turned slowly, his smile stretched tight, eyes wide. “It wants in. It wants in so bad. The slime.”

  “Gabe?”

  “What?” The joker smile faded and he blinked and wiped the wetness from his lip.

  “Um…nothing, man.” Sid hugge
d himself, pursed his lips. “You hungry yet? You should really eat something.”

  Gabe pinched his face in disgust and stared blankly at the desk, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. You’re probably right.”

  Sid grabbed a cookies and cream bar and slid it across the counter. Gabe opened it, sniffed it, then finally bit into it. Every chew looked forced, like at any minute he would spit it out.

  The zombies, with their soft, moist bodies pressed against the glass, sprayed their slime and groaned. Every orifice on them leaked or gushed ooze, and every pair of eyes watched Sid and Gabe. “Why do you think they want us so bad?” Sid sat behind the desk so he wouldn’t have to look at them anymore. “We’re just three motherfuckers in a gym, right? Look how many of them there are out there. They must be really damn hungry.”

  “Not hungry. They don’t want to eat us.” Gabe set the half-eaten bar on the desk and spun to face the window again. He took slow steps toward it and sat cross-legged in front of it again, staring out like a kid watching the TV too close. “They don’t have use for food anymore. Can’t you see? Their stomachs are full of slime. They are the slime. And the slime wants us too. Wants our bodies. It hates anything that’s alive.”

  Sid trudged toward the window, grabbed Gabe by the back of his shirt, and pulled him away from it.

  “What are you doing?” Gabe said as he thrashed his limbs and desperately tried to get back to the glass. “Get your hands off me!”

  “Get away from the window, Gabe. I fucking mean it, man.”

  Gabe swung his fist at Sid’s face, but Sid sidestepped it, grabbed Gabe by the wrist and twisted it behind his back. Gabe growled and tried to wiggle free but wasn’t strong enough. Sid’s body ached, but he was still able to restrain Gabe.

  “Chill out, man. What’s…what’s your fucking problem?”

  Gabe breathed hard and fast through his nostrils, his body tense and hard, then gradually, he relaxed and sort of giggled.

  “I’m sorry, Sid. I…I don’t know what’s wrong with me, man. This shit’s got my head all fucked up.”