Haven From Hell (Book 3): A Young Man's Game

by Won, Mark

  With the fire under control and all the thugs dead or incapacitated, I ran over to what was left of the burning wreaks and got out my s’mores kit and got to work. I’ve always wanted to fix up some delicious s’mores over the burning ruin of an enemy, but in my whole life I hadn’t had an opportunity until then. They tasted kind of funny (I think because of the gasoline) but I got to scratch that one off my bucket list.

  Eventually, the nurses joined me so I offered them some s’mores, too. I’d made sure to bring enough to share. One of them took a treat but didn’t eat it. The other nurse just stood there looking confused. I heard Mr. Run talking to Dr. Summer on the radio.

  “Wait, what is he doing?” That was form Dr. Summer.

  “It looks like Gideon is making s’mores over the burning body of one of them.” I turned around, looked up, and waved at him.

  She said to him, “Okay, don’t do or say anything to make him angry, but if you could calm him down that would be good. We could use his help in here when he’s finished. We have two prisoners that he left us, and I don’t know what to do with them.”

  Mr. Run said, “He’s waving at me. I think he want’s us to join him with the s’mores. What should I do?” I didn’t want him to join me. He needed to stay on guard.

  Dr. Summer answered him, “Don’t leave you’re post!” It seemed Dr. Summer could be taught.

  I spoke into my walkie talkie, “Please don’t kill the prisoners. I want to play…I mean talk…to them later. For now could you just separate them from each other? Thanks!”

  Once I’d finished my fifth s’more I figured I better get back inside. After I took apart the trap on the service elevator, I went up to the top floor. As soon as the doors opened I could smell the sick making stink of chloramine vapor. That was my big trap. Wait for the elevators to get high enough, into the area where zombies wouldn’t get made, and then shut them down. Once the elevators had come to a halt the plan was to ignite a couple of little explosions on top of the elevators. Explosions which were meant to tear open some jugs of chlorine and ammonia, and bust open the little painted cardboard I’d left over the access hatch. Dr. Summer and a few others had dropped a small (very small) Molotov cocktail on top of each of the elevators containing the enemy. The resulting fire acted as an igniter (just a little non-gelled gas), and that was that. The main problem, then, was making sure the elevators were all high enough to be in the non-zombification safe zone without any of them reaching the top. My main problem now was that I was completely out of low explosives.

  I was with the two nurses who had helped me with the fire. One of them gagged at the stink, so I hit the button a few times until the doors closed again and we put a floor between us. I might have used more chlorine and ammonia than I should have. Uncle had told me what the proper ratio was for that kind of thing but I forgot.

  I went over to the intercom and announced, “Is everyone okay? Where is everybody?”

  I learned that everyone had abandoned the top floor as soon as the doors to the elevators containing the thugs had opened. All my new friends had been standing around, waiting to shoot any bandit who had survived the gas attack. Instead, as soon as all the bodies had fallen out, Dr. Summer and her crew had to run for their lives as the gas came spilling out. We decided to wait for the air to clear up somewhat before going back. Meanwhile, I had my two prisoners separated into two separate rooms where I could get down to business.

  I asked one of them, “So, dude, do you guys have anymore buddies I might want to meet?” We’d already been over all that, ‘if your answers don’t match up I’ll start cutting stuff off’ part, so I was sure my victim understood his situation.

  I mean, sure, sometimes I’d get a dummy who just couldn’t tell the truth. So I’d have to go back and forth cutting stuff up. Then the other idiot would stop telling the truth and try to guess what his buddy was going to lie and I’d have to go back and forth cutting more stuff up. What a mess. Eventually, I would get there, but it could take hours, mostly walking to and fro.

  Fortunately, the two thugs I’d captured had understood their situation, and after I told them I’d let them run away, they were happy to keep their stories straight. They didn’t really have anything left to lose.

  “No,” answered the thug, and I believed him. Dr. Summer had been real careful about counting them so I already knew we had them all. It was more of a trick question.

  “So, where do you reefer addicts keep your stash? Not your morally bankrupt dope stash, I mean everything else.”

  “We keep everything here, man. You got it all. You’ll let me live, right? Just like you said!”

  On a different subject I asked, “Where were all you guys from?”

  He answered, “From prison mostly, though we’ve had a couple of men join us along the way. We met up over time.”

  “Really? How does that work? What I mean is, what keeps your kind from killing each other on sight like you do everyone else?”

  He had a look of concentration on his face as he tried to piece together my question. Eventually, he replied, “I dunno, man. Sometimes you just know, know what I mean? One look and you can tell if some dude is hardcore or a pussy. Whether he’ll help you hold ‘em down or be the one gettin’ held down.” I found the answer unsatisfying, but what can you do?

  He repeated himself, “So, you’ll let me live, right! I told you everything!”

  I asked Tracer (who was there with me), “What do you think, boy? Should I keep my word?”

  He didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t understand, but because he just didn’t care. Dogs are super nice but totally amoral. I don’t think tracer even understood the concept of honor.

  But that’s okay because I always keep my word unless it would be way funnier not to. So I got together those two nurses (Chloe and Tisha) who had helped with putting out the fire, and had them push my prisoners along in wheel chairs. Since they had no more to say I made sure both thugs were gagged. They looked pretty nervous (which was just good thinking on their part). Once we got outside and on some level ground I explained my plan to the nurses while Tracer put a little doggy pee on everything he could reach. I could tell he thought something was up but didn’t know what yet. I made a point of keeping an eye on his signs, especially his tail.

  I addressed the nurses, “It’s like this. I told them that I’d let them run if they told the truth and I think they did. The trouble is they can’t run because someone shot them in the legs, so they get the wheelchairs. It’s only fair. I’ve packed in some medical supplies, food, water, and a couple of disassembled cop guns complete with ammunition. It’s all back here,” I patted the bags I had secured to the back of the wheelchairs. “I even put them in bullet proof vests, see? I’m as good as my word and better.”

  Chloe interrupted, “What are you doing? You can’t just let them go, you don’t know what they did to us! If you give them the chance they’ll come back. They’ll hurt us again, and we can’t let that happen.” I could tell those two nurses had been hurt plenty by those thugs, or thugs just like them. Hence the shotguns the girls were carrying.

  Tisha was more directly to the point, “I want to kill them for what they did.” She looked so serious I had to chuckle. This was going to be fun.

  I said, “I kind of figured that out. That’s why you’re here.” The thugs started to try and speak past their gags. I ignored them. “I’m going to give these thugs a ten minute head start and then you two get to go hunting. If you’re serious about killing them it shouldn’t be too hard, but it’s up to you. Think of it as a training exercise.”

  You might think that I was setting up the poor nurses to get killed but that’s just not so. I was real careful about the cop gun parts I’d put in the packs. One was a .45 and the other a 9mm. The fun part was that I had mixed the gun parts up so the thugs would have to share parts in order to assemble a couple of weapons. But they could, it was possible.

  I told the thugs to hit the road and off t
hey went. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a pair of vile reprobates racing down the road in a couple of wheelchairs. What a hoot! They were bouncing along, veering this way and that. One second almost colliding and the next almost tipping over. Tisha looked like she was about to ignore the rules so I put my hand on the barrel of her shotgun, real subtle like, and, in a pleasant cheerful voice, declared, “You’d better not.” She looked a little scared at me for a second before recovering. It’s weird how my big friendly smile can have that effect on people who know me.

  Another funny part about it (from my point of view) was that I wouldn’t have minded if Tisha and Chloe had just pointed their shotguns and gunned those two thugs down in cold blood. That would have been fun too. But a deal’s a deal, and so I had to give the thugs a fair shot.

  While we waited Tracer became increasingly excited. He always gets that way when he starts to smell danger. I told the girls, “Be careful out there, it looks clear now, but we might be having zombies later on.” I hoped they would be careful, and not let their blood lust get the better of them. I planned on making a special effort to keep them safe.

  After ten minutes I said, “It’s show time girls. Go get ‘em” I felt like a funny game show host. The two girls took off running after the thugs. One thug had turned left, trying to get out of the girls line of sight, while the other just kept going straight. I guess that eliminated any chance of firearm assembly for the thugs. Tracer and I headed back into the garage to get a cop car. Those things are neat.

  I had been careful to put a pillow on the seat so that I could see over the dashboard better. Then I turned the siren on and went after the girls to see how they were doing. At first I couldn’t tell where they were, but then I heard the shots over all the noise I was making. I put the pedal down, I didn’t want to miss any of the action.

  By the time Tracer and I caught up with them they had already bagged the thug who had been going for distance. They had gunned him down in the middle of the street. His wheelchair was in pieces, it looked like they had shot the heck out of it and then blasted his head off. And then had continued shooting until the thug looked like so much hamburger wrapped in Kevlar rags. I had to laugh at the sight of it! It was like spray and pray, only with pump shotguns.

  I rolled down the window and told the nurses, “One down and one to go! Where could he be, I wonder? It looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.” I was grinning from ear to ear. What fun!

  Then Chloe ran over to the car and opened my door. “Get out, you horrible brat. We need this car to find him.” She started pulling on my shirt.

  “Wow, you sound just like my uncle.” I wiped a nostalgic tear from my eye and got out of the drivers seat, with Tracer jumping out after me. The reason I’d driven after them in the first place was because I figured they’d want a ride sooner or later (Uncle always said girls have trouble thinking ahead), but it was real sweet the way she asked me.

  Tracer was really giving me the ‘for sure’ tail wag up sign. I knew we had a horde of zombies incoming any minute and if I wanted to run that was the time. The sirens I had blaring might have contributed to that situation.

  As the two nurses piled into the vehicle I saw what had become an uncommon sight in the area: a zombie coming our way. It was moving pretty fast. A ghoul, then. Just behind it came another, and then another. Hooray! The zombies were finally back. That would make the thug hunt even more fun. I guess that without the fake cops clearing the surroundings every other day some were bound to come bounding back. Or maybe the thugs had drawn them to us on their way back to the hospital. I was happy either way.

  All three ghouls came right at me as I waved goodbye to the nurses (they hadn’t seen the ghouls closing because they were already around the corner). I thought all three ghouls would just pile right into me like usual, but that didn’t happen. The first one poised to leap at me and I swung Polly in an anticipatory motion. Then it leaned back on its heels and just stared at me instead. Kinda like people do sometimes. Meanwhile, the other two ghouls surrounded me (from their point of view).

  They all looked so serious I just had to laugh. Then my radio started squawking, “Gideon? Chloe? Tisha? What’s your status?!” It was Dr. Summer. She went on, “We can see a huge mob of zombies moving around down there. You need to get back to the hospital immediately! Do you need assistance?” As warnings go that one was kind of late. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice of her to offer to help, but she was way too far away.

  Still, it would only be polite to tell her I was fine. Uncle had taught me that it wasn’t nice to worry people. So I told the ghouls, “Just a second guys, I gotta get this,” then I sheathed Abby and got my walkie talkie. They chose that moment to attack. Ghouls are funny when they think their being smart.

  The thing is, I knew they’d do that. It was such an obvious move it was like they didn’t even have a choice. I swung Polly in a totally fast roundhouse spin like you’d expect, but this time I added a jump at the last instant. I’d never tried that before when being attacked by three ghouls simultaneously. It was sweet, I decapitated all three with one blow. Tracer didn’t even have time to get worried. My first triple decapitation. Totally clean, too. Not just the skull tops or brain slices but three complete heads. I wondered if maybe I should start a collection.

  “I’m okay, Dr. Summer. It was just some ghouls.” Looking around I saw another group of five ogres coming for me next. “But I got to go now. I got some new toys to break. Don’t worry, I’ll see you for supper. Bye, bye.” then I turned off the radio.

  I heard Chloe and Tisha returning before I saw them. They came rounding the corner up on two wheels like Uncle did when he was late for church. Tisha had her window down and yelled from the police cruiser, “Get in this car right now, you crazy psychopath!” Wow. She must’ve been really mad about something to use that kind of bad language, which was quite a bummer after such a fine personal best just seconds ago. I had thought she was my friend. It was like winning the gold medal and then getting called a loser.

  I told her, tears brimming in my eyes,“You don’t have to be mean!”

  The ogres were still coming at me, using that lumbering jog they have. There were three lady ogres among them and that usually cheers me up. I think it’s funny how the littler girl ogres are just as strong as the big man ogres. But Tisha’s being mean just took all the fun out of it. Her swearing at me made me want to cry, but I didn’t want her to see how bad it hurt, so I turned away and faced the ogres instead of running to the police car.

  There were a few vehicles still littered on the street, and one of the ogres reached out and shoved a car aside. Another kicked a fallen motorcycle out of its way. They closed fast, but with the girls screaming behind me, I closed on them faster. I was seriously pissed off.

  I threw Polly into the skull of one and Abby into the skull of another, and for once I didn’t even care what they thought. I veered to my left and ran straight toward my next victim while drawing my knuckle duster. After a forward roll, I sprung up and struck it square between the eyes, cracking its skull. The thing didn’t fall immediately, but I managed to slip under its reach before it could give me a big hug. Then it fell. That left me with two to go.

  They both came at me from my right, one slightly in front of the other. As the first of the two reached for me I reached out, grabbed its arm, and used its knee as a springboard. I leapt high and spun a kick into the head of the last ogre standing (Spinning Toad Maneuver). With a smashed temple it fell next to one of its buddies, while the one I’d just kicked in the knee turned to face me.

  I was working out a lot of anger right then. I don’t doubt that my face would have looked pretty funny if anyone had been looking on (Chloe and Tisha were both behind me). Anyway, the ogre took a good long look and took a step back. That had never happened to me before. I think I somehow managed to put the fear of final death into whatever passed for its itty bitty ogre brain. Or maybe it was just being stumbly because of
the sideways shattered knee. Whatever, I was done being angry so I turned back to pluck Abby out of one of the ogre’s skulls. Of course, the last ogre mistook that as an opportunity and ended up with my girl stuck up under its chin, tickling its brain.

  I do so hate being called a psychopath.

  But I can’t stay mad forever, especially with a thug to hunt down and a whole mob of zombies slowly stumbling into sight down the street. Life’s too full of joy for me to let a few mean words keep me down for long.

  I walked back to the car with Tracer at my side. On the way one of the severed ghoul heads lashed out its tongue at me. Those things are so gross. Tracer was on it in a heartbeat, tearing the appendage out by its roots. I had to pause to chop each noggin. Leaving them wouldn’t be safe (what if someone wearing sandals came along?). I was glad that Tracer hadn’t gotten involved with the ogres. Mostly the undead don’t seem to care about animals either the one way or the other, but that doesn’t mean I want to put it to the test. I’m pretty sure that if an animal caused enough damage to a monster the monster would fight back. Most animals don’t seem to be too keen on attacking zombies, now that I think of it. Even the flies leave them alone.

  We got in the back seat of the car and Chloe tried to reach warp one while doing a U-turn. I was wondering where we would go next, but first thing’s first. I took out my release papers from my shirt pocket (which I always keep in the same pocket as my two inch miniature blowgun) and held them up to the transparent partition.

  I asked, “So, where do you think the other thug went. He could be anywhere by now. If we hurry maybe we can catch him!”

  Tisha began reading the document which I’d held up and her eyes got real big. She lifted her gaze to look at me, “I’m sorry I called you a psychopath. That was wrong of me.” I think she might have seen the streaks from my tears. Words can hurt. Not as much as a sword upside the head, but still pretty bad.

  Chloe kept looking in the rear view mirror. She said, “We came back for you as soon as Dr. Summer called us.”