by Stephens, L.
CHAPTER 110: BREATHER
Don’t you hate it when you’re running through the zombie apocalypse, shooting at anything that comes your way and the music you set up to play just before you left your relatively safe bunker finishes? Well, Jake was the poster boy for this kind of hate.
“Hey Siri,” Jake yelled while holding onto the button that sat on the cord of his earphones. “Play Talking Heads.”
Nothing happened. He thought that would be the case. The headphones he had found in the van were old, black and definitely not Apple-approved. He thought about pulling out his phone from his pocket while he ran but killed that idea as he didn’t want to become a recipient of a Zombie Darwin Award or a viral clickbait headline which would have gone something like:
Man Becomes Zombie After Tripping Over While Trying To Play A New Album On His Phone
He put the lack of soundtrack out of his mind. In the rush to get out of the school without being bitten slash dying, he had gotten turned around and wasn’t exactly sure where he was.
After a manic ten minutes of frantic running, Jake found himself in the middle of a blood-soaked intersection with no zombies in front of or beside him. Feeling a little more at ease, he turned his head back as far as it would swivel and slowed to a jog. There was no one behind him. The streets were empty. He set his sights on a mini market come New York-styled bodega that was on the opposite side of the street. He needed somewhere safe to catch his breath and find out where the fuck he was. Jake noticed as he approached the door there wasn’t actually any glass inside the frame. The glass now resided inside the store, in tiny shards. It was handy as fuck but also came with the added bonus of possible death slash late onset zombie-itis. Someone had obviously made their way inside the mini market already, either to loot or seek shelter. Jake just hoped they had left in one piece. He sheepishly stuck his head inside and quickly surveyed the store before pulling his head out again. It was dark, quiet and there was no movement, but most importantly, there were snacks and beverages, and they all looked pretty fucking fantastic.
“Sorry, Jennings,” Jake said under his breath as he slipped in to loot the store.
He was kind of hoping Jennings would pop up and try stop him. He kind of missed the big galoot and his innate ability to make Jake feel safe and secure. Jake managed to get inside the store without severing an artery or being eaten by a zombie. He put his gun in the waistband of his jeans and went straight for the potato chips and candy bars that had been winking seductively at him through the door. It had been over thirty-six hours since he had eaten, not that that was an excuse for his choice in snacks; he would have gone in that direction regardless.
Suddenly, he dropped the packet of potato chips that he was inhaling as the phone’s ringtone started playing at full volume. Clap, clap, you fucking know it was Tainted Love, and it filled every single cell of his brain.
“Fuck me,” Jake said under his breath as he pulled the earphone cable from under his shirt and out of the phone.
The ringtone echoed around the empty store as Jake tried to pull his phone out of his pocket to silence it.
“Wassup, D-Dubs?” Jake said quickly as he put the phone to his ear.
“What the fuck you call me, mate?” Max slurred. “It’s fucking, Max, you drop kick!”
“Oh, Max, sorry,” Jake stuttered. “I thought it was someone else.”
“Of course you fucking did,” Max mumbled. “Get off that fucking crack, mate!”
Jake was unsure what was going on. He had never heard Max, for the lack of a better word, drunk. He always had a barb or two but never an onslaught. He preferred waiting for the opportunity to land something subtle.
“Max, what the fuck is going on?” Jake said seriously. “Daryl said the job last night was a setup. Now he’s out for my blood and yours.”
“Skippy, I don’t give a fuck about that cunt, alright?” Max said swiftly. “I called you for one reason and that reason was to…”
Max trailed off and Jake couldn’t understand him.
“Max, I can’t hear you, what are you trying to say?” Jake asked, annoyance entering his voice.
“Shut the fuck up you idiot,” Max slurred. “I’m trying to tell you a story.”
“Alright, alright,” Jake said. “Just get on with it, okay? I’ve got my hands full at the moment.”
“When I was starting out,” Max said without skipping a beat. “I was just a lowly assistant at this large petroleum company that had its headquarters here in Los Angeles, downtown actually. You might have seen some commotion down there on the news today. Well, my boss, he was the greatest man I’ve ever met. He taught me the ropes without ever actually showing me. It was just lesson after lesson after lesson and before I even knew it, I wasn’t a lowly assistant anymore, I was vice president of sales. But don’t get a boner just yet, mate, it was still a fucking sales job, nothing to write home about. Of course, I told every skirt that would listen I was vice president but I would just mumble over the sales part. It worked like a charm! For some reason even after he wasn’t my boss anymore he still kept me close, confided in me, and I confided in him. I felt like we were an unstoppable team, taking on the board, other companies and the U.S. fucking government. It was literally, Jake, and I’m not pulling your leg here, the best fucking time of my life. He was my best friend, even though he was twenty years older than me and had a family. He was the only person in my life I gave two fucks about. Remember, I’m just a poor immigrant at this stage. I didn’t have anyone that even resembled a family and he didn’t know me from Adam, but I spent eight thanksgivings and Christmases with him without fail. He made me part of his family. He was just a great man. He did not have a single evil bone in his body, everything was done by the book and with compassion. He was a true and honest representation of the greatest generation to walk on United States soil. So, what I did to him will haunt me forever. I sent that dopey, unassuming cunt up the fucking river. I framed that poor schmuck and he lost everything, his job, his family and eventually his life. And it was all because one day, he didn’t invite me golfing with the president of the company. I thought in my tiny little mind that he owed me that. Little did I know of course, the reason he didn’t invite me was because he wanted to get a better position for me in the company. That’s the tragedy of all this, my boy. My assumptions led me down the garden path, never to return. I never found out about that till years later of course, and wouldn’t you know it, it was at his funeral. But you know what was the worst part about it? Actually, it wasn’t a bad thing, not for me anyway, but for him. The same week he got escorted out of the building. I showed up at his house when he and his missus were out and I got his daughter, the same daughter I had spent holidays with, watching her grow into a young woman. I got his daughter, his seventeen-year-old fucking daughter, nice and tipsy, then I fucked her into a fucking oblivion. It didn’t stop there of course, I kept fucking her and fucking her behind my best friend and mentor’s back, all the while commiserating with him and giving him pep talks about it not being too late to start again.”
“Max, where the fuck are you going with this?” Jake asked, shaking his head.
“Hold your horses,” Max said. “Just let me finish. I’m almost done. So, after a few weeks of fucking and sucking this ripe little teenager, she says to me one night, lying there covered in my cum and sweat, that she’s pregnant, and low and behold yours truly is the father! Can you believe it, Jake? Me, a fucking father! This was literally the best news I had ever heard. Not only had I ruined this dumb cunt’s life, I had gotten his one and only daughter pregnant.”
“I don’t want to fucking hear this, Max,” Jake whispered.
“Well you don’t need to. I’m sure you’ve always had an inkling, anyway, but this is my story, okay, so fucking listen. Give me the respect I deserve,” Max said with a chuckle. “Nine months later, a bouncing little boy was born and I was living on the other side of the country and fucking a different woman every day. F
or some fucking reason she named him, Jake, just like her dad, another fucking tragedy waiting to happen.”
Jake grimaced. He had been waiting for this little revelation for most of his life. Max had been around most of his teenage years and had been one of the prime corrupting forces, shaping his route into the perfect specimen of a walking, talking asshole.
“Max, why are you telling me this?” Jake said, solemnly. “You think I’m gonna be happy about this? You’re a fucking scumbag, and I should have cut you off years ago, but you made my life easy.”
“Don’t start getting interesting now, mate,” Max said with a cackle.
“Bye, Max,” Jake said. “And, err, just so you know, I didn’t fucking listen to you. I’m downtown right now and I probably won’t be alive to piss on your grave but just know...”
Jake hung up the phone, and within seconds Max tried to call him back, but Jake sent him straight to voicemail and then blocked his number.
@KillingJake I don’t think I’ve ever had to block a dude’s number before. The zombie apocalypse sure brings out a lot of firsts! #RevengeChild #DaddyIssues
CHAPTER 111: CHANGE OF PLANS
Daryl looked at the time on Lynne’s phone and then checked his own phone to see if Jake had called. It had been an hour since he had talked to him, and he hadn’t heard a peep since. He thought about logging into Facebook to check on friends and family, but he felt shame, shame in everything that had transpired since he pointed his gun at the SUV barreling towards him. After turning the phone off he got up and started walking towards Lynne and Ava. He was through with the rooftop and everything that came with it.
“We don’t want any trouble, okay,” Lynne said, putting her body between Ava and the approaching Daryl.
“Here,” Daryl said as he handed her phone to her. “Thank you.”
Lynne looked down at the phone and back up to Daryl. He stared down at her, trying not to smile or give her anything more than he had already.
“Thanks,” Lynne said with a small nod.
Daryl nodded his head in return and walked away.
“Alright, screw this,” Daryl announced to the group. “I’m going to get the fuck out of here!”
“What are you talking about?” Sarah asked as she put her palm up in a traditional ‘What the fuck’ pose. “I thought you were going to wait for Jake.”
“I told you, honey, he ain’t coming,” Daryl said softly. “If I see him, I’ll tell him you’re up here.”
Sarah shook her head as she watched Daryl walk away.
“Hey, date rapist,” Daryl said as he walked towards Ryan.
Ryan kept his head down, ignoring Daryl coming his way.
“You listening to me, mother fucker?” Daryl said as he approached.
Ryan lifted his head as Daryl’s muscular frame entered into his proximity.
“Sorry, what?” Ryan said meekly.
“Welcome back, buddy!” Daryl mocked. “Now that I have your attention, how many of those zombie assholes do you think were on the other side of that door?”
“I'm not sure, I was too busy running,” Ryan said as he shrugged his shoulders. “You killed like three of them, so probably six left.”
“I’m thinking at least ten.” Daryl said, turning back to the others. “That sound about right?”
“Yeah,” Sarah said with a nod of her head.
Ryan scrunched up his nose and looked to the ground while absent-mindedly scratching his crotch.
“What the fuck is up with you and your ball itching?” Daryl asked Ryan. “You got crabs or something?”
Ryan froze mid scratch, and his eyes darted directly to Lynne, whose mouth was pressed shut.
“Man, if my balls start itching too,” Daryl spat, “I'm going to fucking end you!”
Daryl crouched in front of Ryan and leaned forward so their noses almost touched. Beads of sweat started falling down the side of Ryan’s face.
“Hey,” Daryl said. “Give me a look at that fucking sissy gun you got.”
Ryan flinched and raised his hands defensively as Daryl reached for him.
“Take it easy, weasel,” Daryl said, pulling the gun from Ryan’s jacket. “I just want your fucking gun.”
Daryl held Ryan’s gun in his hand and pulled out his own gun from the back of his pants and compared them. Daryl’s gun was almost twice the size.
“Jesus, fucking, Christ, this is barely a gun, man,” Daryl said as he shook his head. “Where the fuck did you get this from? I mean, even you must know what a gun looks like.”
“I…I…” Ryan stuttered.
“Man, shut the fuck up,” Daryl said as he stood up. “Here’s your stupid ass pea-shooter.”
He dropped the gun onto Ryan’s lap and Ryan squealed in pain. Daryl let out a snort of air before he turned to the rest of the group.
“Okay, listen up!” Daryl boomed, putting his hand on his hips. “I got better things to do than stay here and get killed with you fucking losers.”
“What are you talking about?” Sarah said, walking over to him. “You're safe. We're all safe here. Don’t be stupid.”
“Who the fuck you calling stupid?” Daryl said as he towered over Sarah. “You’re the fucking stupid one, waiting for your asshole boyfriend to turn up. Look around you—the city is gone, every, fucking, thing, is gone! No one is coming for you, princess. How long do you think we can survive up here anyway? No food, no water, just us and the fucking apocalypse!”
Daryl pointed at Lynne and Ava.
“How long do you think that little fucker’s going to last? Must be time for her bottle.” Daryl said venomously. “The longer we stay up here, the less chance we have to get out the city before someone decides to push the button and nuke this fucking place!”
“What about in the building?” Sarah said as she looked to Ryan. “Hey, dingus! Is there food and water in there?”
Ryan was still curled in the fetal position but had stopped writhing in pain.
“I guess,” Ryan said sucking in a deep breath. “There are vending machines in the employee lounge and a refrigerator or two.”
“See…” Sarah said sassily.
“Look I told you, I’m not fucking staying here!” Daryl said, wiping the sweat from his head. “The only reason I’m going to go into that fucking building again is to get the fuck out of here.”
“Well I’m coming with you!” Ryan said sitting up. “I got a gun, and I got your back!”
“Calling that fucking thing a gun is an insult to other guns,” Daryl said over his shoulder.
“You need me!” Ryan yelled. “I know where they keep the keys to the company cars. We can get one and go wherever you like!”
“Where was this idea three fucking hours ago when we were in the parking lot!” Daryl said furiously. “Now, we’re stuck the fuck up here!”
Ryan struggled to his feet and limped over to Daryl.
“The keys are on the sixth floor near my office,” Ryan said succinctly. “Look, if you help me, I'll help you. I got fifty thousand dollars in a draw downstairs. I'll give you half of it.”
“What the fuck am I going to do with fifty thousand dollars?” Daryl said as he gestured to the smoldering city. “The Beverly Center is probably on fire right now, and a thousand corpses are window shopping on Rodeo Drive.”
“I said half!” Ryan said swiftly. “Twenty-five thousand, not fifty.”
“Fifty thousand, mother fucker,” Daryl said with a grin. “If you think I’m going to shoot my way through the building, then only take half the cash, you’re fucking crazy, man.”
“Well, if you put it that way,” Ryan said in a defeated tone.
“Glad we’re seeing eye-to-eye, weasel,” Daryl said jokingly. “If you want that money, go get that fucking money, ‘cause I ain’t interested. The whole reason I’m in this shit in the first place is because of money!”
Daryl reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope that he had taken from Ray’s lifeless bod
y before he went full zombie.
“This right here, buddy!” Daryl said fanning the cash in front of Ryan’s wide eyes. “It might as well be Monopoly money, ‘cause after the smoke has settled it’s fucking worthless.”
Daryl meant what he said but he still put the cash back in his pocket and turned back to the group. Ryan moved quickly around so he stood in between Daryl and the others.
“Can I help you?” Daryl said as he looked down on Ryan.
“What about them?” Ryan whispered. “Let's bring them along. We can use them as a diversion while we make it to safety.”
Daryl nodded slowly at him, and a small smile crept on to his face.
“That’s fucking cold, man,” Daryl whispered. “I’m not going to lie, though, it’s a good idea.”
A big grin spread on Ryan’s face as he gave Daryl a sly wink.
“Okay we’ve decided, we’re all going to go!” Ryan declared as he pulled out his gun and began pacing in front of the group like Mel Gibson in Braveheart.. “Get whatever weapon you can find. This is going to be tough, and I can’t guarantee all of you are going to make it out alive.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Sarah said in amazement. “You really think we are going to go anywhere with you?”
“Of course, you are!” Daryl boomed. “You’re crucial to his plan, he needs you ladies to act as a diversion while me and him make good our escape and live happily ever after!”
