by Brian Berg
“Oh my God...”
“He hadn't noticed me at first, but then my daughter saw me and started yelling 'Daddy, daddy! Bad man, daddy, help us!'. He was turning on me when I tackled him. He tried to shoot me, but I knocked his gun out of his hand and then I just started to beat the living shit out of him. I mean, I just punched him over and over and over again.”
Barbie frowned. She was confused and I couldn't blame her. “Wait, so you got arrested because you saved your family from a burglar?”
“When I was punching him, I must have blacked out from my anger or something, because one minute I'm beating him and holding him down and then the next minute, I'm beating what's left of his face. My fist was just caked in his blood. He wasn't moving anymore.
“I killed a man and in my own home.” I rubbed my hands together. They were shaking. “I had taken a man's life and I got sent to prison for it. Manslaughter, I think.”
“That doesn't make sense. You were defending your family from an intruder. It was self-defense, you should have gotten off without a problem.”
“I had dropped out of high school and never thought of going to college, so I don't know jack shit about the legal system. All I know is that I killed a man, protecting my family, and I got sent to prison. So now, thanks doing what I had to do, I've spent six months away from my family and am now trying not to get eaten!” I looked at her. “What about you? What's your story?”
She didn't tell me much. As it turns out, her real name was actually Barbara. A living, breathing Barbie doll whose name is Barbara. Who would've thought? She knew about the nickname the inmates had given her in this place, but she didn't mind. As long as they didn't come at her, she was perfectly happy.
She was from Falling Rock originally, having grown up there her entire life. Her family had a history with law enforcement careers, but she never landed a place in the actual police force, so she took a job in the prison. I'm sure she regretted that choice now!
“Alright,” she rose to her feet after finishing her story, “we have to get out of here. We've wasted enough time.”
“Yeah. Let's get to it.”
What happened next, happened so fast. The door we had come from came crashing down off its hinges and those things just flooded inward. We ran, but we didn't get far. I was just about to touch the doorknob leading towards the garage area when I heard Barbie scream. I turned and I saw her being pulled into the crowd of undead, her shotgun was laying on the steps beneath her. They started to eat her. Her legs, her arms, they even bit into her shoulders and all I could do was listen to her screams.
“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” she screamed, looking at me with those big, pitiful eyes. “KILL ME! I DON'T WANT TO BECOME ONE OF THEM! KILL ME!”
I looked at the shotgun. At first, I didn't want to lose another person from the group. I didn't want to be alone in this forsaken place. But I knew that I couldn't just leave her like that. I had to move quickly. I lunged for the shotgun and beat away a zombie with the stock as it came at me. I raised the shotgun at her heart.
“No! Shoot me in the head so I don't come back!”
I really, really didn't want to do it, but I knew I couldn't refuse her. She was dying. This was her final request. I had to do it, even if it meant I was going to have nightmares for the rest of my life. I raised the shotgun a little higher. Not by much, I didn't want to miss her head, but enough. If I was lucky, I could kill a few of those bastards too.
I pulled the trigger and her screaming was gone forever. Her head rocked back from the impact of the last shotgun shell. Her pretty face was shredded as her skull caved in like she was hit by a high-speed impact from a sledgehammer. Her body, limp like a ragdoll, sank into the crowd of zombies and became an instant meal for them. While they were distracted, I turned and I threw open the door. Without looking back, I bolted down the corridor. I could see the sign on the wall saying GARAGE pointing further down, but I couldn't reach it. I saw another group of them ahead of me and I know those behind me would be coming up anytime now. I looked around and opened the first door I could find.
Chapter Ten
They're all gone now.
Eddie. Barbie. Johnny. Even Hangman and Hound are gone, although I have no idea what happened to them. I hope they got what they had coming to them, though.
Out of our group of six, I'm the only one that's left and I am stuck inside a custodial closet with an empty 12-gauge shotgun in my hands. I'm alone in here, with what sounds like at least a dozen zombies out there, trying to get at me. I have no idea how long I've been in here, or what time it is. I don't see a clock in here anywhere. All I see are cleaning supplies, equipment, and a mirror.
The mirror. I wonder how I look? When I actually get up off my ass and look into the glass, I barely recognize myself. I don't see a man in his thirties anymore. I don't see a man who drove big rigs along highways to keep my family fed. I don't see a man who used to tuck his children in at night. I don't know who I see anymore. There's a man in front of me, wearing prison blues, covered with blood and who looks like he's aged so that he's in his forties, maybe older. I know I'm not, but I look old. I can't explain it, but then again, there's a lot of things today that I can't explain.
The water's still running. I don't know why I thought it wouldn't be, but it is. I felt hot in the closet. The cold tap water felt good against my face, but that only took care of one of my problems. The rest of them are out there, beyond that door. Falling Rock, both prison and city, was royally fucked. If it got out to the city, who knows how long it'll take to spread out? These things were like a virus. It only takes one to make a great big mess.
I can't stay here anymore. I have to get out, have to get to my family in River City. I don't know if it's gotten that far yet, but the least I can do is get out and see how it is out there. If it's worse than it is in here, I can be of some use. But first, I had to get out.
Taking down the barricade wasn't that hard to bring down from my end. It was kind of difficult, moving stuff everywhere for space, since the room is pretty small, but I don't care. Shotgun in one hand, I bring down the last piece of the barricade and open up the door.
One...two...three...about four or five of them. Not a huge group, but not a walk in the park either. They all try to come inside, but they're stupid and get themselves wedged in the doorway. It's funny, they remind me of The Three Stooges.
“Hello, boys.” I grip the barrel of the shotgun and hold it like a baseball bat. “Let's play ball.”
The End
Bibliography
The Beast and the Monster - A fantasy novella now available on Amazon Kindle.