by Bible, Jake
“You could have just patted me down,” I reply. “That’s how you find out if a person is warm or not.”
“Yeah, but I can’t see you, and I was afraid I’d get my fingers bitten if I stuck out my hands,” Rafe says.
“So you stick your tongue out instead? Because Zs don’t eat tongue? There is a serious flaw in your logic, fucker.”
“I don’t have to explain myself,” Rafe huffs. “You should just be glad I found you.”
“Really? Why’s that?” I ask. “You have some magic plan to get us out of here?”
“Well ... no,” he admits. “But there’s safety in numbers.”
“Not if one of those numbers tries to eat the other one!” I yell. There is a distinct possibility all my yelling is bringing more Zs, but fuck if I care. The dude licked my fucking face!
“I wasn’t going to eat you!” Rafe yells back. “It was a joke! God, you are such an asshole!”
“Better to be an asshole than a canny, any day,” I say. “Fucking cannies. Why I agreed to let you people come with us on this convoy, I don’t know.”
“What the fuck do you mean ‘you people’?” Rafe snaps. “You know, not everyone got to live in their fancy little subdivision after Z-Day. Some of us had to fight for every second of every day until we found someplace that was just a little bit safer than being out on the open road!”
“Whatever, dude,” I snap. “You have no idea what life was like for me and my family after Z-Day. Life was not all block parties and barbecues. We lost a lot of people trying to defend our neighborhood from the Zs. Not to mention the bums that would come by and try to take what we’d built.”
“Bums? What the hell are you talking about?” Rafe asks.
“Never mind,” I say, realizing that I’d rather not think of the bums. Brenda Kelly went a little overboard when it came to keeping people out. There were more than a few needless deaths at her orders.
“What are bums?” Rafe pushes. “Homeless? People that didn’t have any place else to go, so they looked to you for sanctuary? I’ve heard a few stories from some of the others. I know that Stuart used to be the triggerman and kill anyone that didn’t just walk away from your precious subdivision. Fuck you, Short Pork. Say what you want about cannies, but at least we killed to survive. You just killed to hang on to your lawns and shit.”
“Dude, there are no lawns in the apocalypse,” I say, but without any real conviction.
The kid is right, we were not the best people towards the end there. Subconsciously, it’s probably one reason I blew that place up. It stood for a world that could never be again, and wasn’t exactly paradise pre-Z.
We sit there and fume in our own wrongness while more and more Zs gather around our boulder. No clue how many, but from the sound of it there are a lot. Looks like we aren’t going hiking any time soon.
We probably give each other the silent treatment for an hour. I even manage to refrain from talking out loud. Or I think I do. No way for me to really know unless Rafe tells me, and that defeats the point of a silent treatment. So we’ll assume I didn’t talk out loud.
“How’d you find me?” I finally ask because I have a complete and total inability to keep from talking. “It’s not like you can see down here. Where were you before you found this boulder?”
“Your torches lit this place up,” Rafe says. “I could see you from like a mile away.”
“Ha, funny,” I chuckle.
“No, seriously, man,” he insists. “This pit is huge. I was easily a mile away.”
“That can’t be true,” I say. “You have no way to gauge that kind of distance. You think you were a mile, but you were probably only a football field’s length.”
“I used to hunt people for sport and survival, man,” Rafe says. “I know how to gauge a mile. I was a mile away. Your torches were just bright dots in the distance.”
“I only had the one torch until it got snagged by a Z I found up here,” I reply. “The other lights you saw were the famous singing group known as the Flaming Zs.” Rafe doesn’t respond right away. “I said, the other lights you saw were the-.”
“I heard what you said,” he interrupts. “I just don’t know what it means.”
“I set a couple of Zs on fire, and they chased me here,” I explain. “Me being me, I decided that the Flaming Zs would make a killer band name. But, alas, they weren’t meant to last as a group. You know why?”
Rafe doesn’t answer.
“Do you know why they weren’t meant to last, Rafe?” I ask again.
“I don’t think I want to,” Rafe says quietly.
“Because they burned out!” I laugh. “Bam! Zing! Rimshot! Cue laugh track!”
“You are the most fucked up man I have ever met,” Rafe states. “And I knew all the gang leaders on Cannibal Road. Barfly must have nearly killed you a million times.”
“Barfly, bro? Nah, we were tight, bro. Like best bros, bro. He totally dug my sense of humor, bro.”
“No, he didn’t,” Rafe says.
“No, he didn’t,” I admit. “He got tired of it, just like everyone else does.”
Again, we sit there for a while with nothing to say. The Zs are getting louder and louder, so it’s not like we’re sitting in silence anymore. Their constant groans, and moans, and hisses are actually getting on my nerves. Up top you can hide in a shelter like a house or some other building. That shit will muffle their never-ending noise. Hell, even a car is better than this.
“Moan, moan, moan!” I shout. “Hiss, hiss, hiss! Fuck you!”
“That’ll teach them,” Rafe says.
“Hey, let me ask you something. Strictly for academic purposes,” I say. “When we were giving each other the silent treatment, was I still talking out loud?”
“What silent treatment?” Rafe replies. “You haven’t shut up since I got up on this boulder. At one point I honestly thought about jumping off and trying to make it against the Zs. You have some seriously fucked up shit inside your head, Short Pork.”
“Don’t call me Short Pork,” I say. “I hated Long Pork. Short Pork is even worse. Just call me Jace.”
“Only if you stop referring to me as a canny,” Rafe counters.
“But you are a canny,” I say. “That’s the simple truth.”
“Then you will always be Short Pork,” Rafe says. “So get used to it, Short Pork.”
“Knock it off,” I snarl.
“Or what?” Rafe asks. “What the fuck are you going to do to me with one arm in the pitch dark? The second you try to hit me, I’ll knock you the fuck out. I was a hunter, man. I can track with my ears.”
“Who do you think you are? The Blind Swordsman?” I laugh.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The Blind Swordsman,” I say. “That old series of samurai movies? You never saw those?”
“Who the fuck watches old samurai movies? You must have been some nerd before the Zs,” Rafe says, laughing.
“Listen, you little shit, while you were busy jerking off to the Pink Power Ranger, I was studying true cinema. The Blind Swordsman movies are classics.”
“If you say so, nerd,” Rafe laughs again. “Nerd Pork. That’s what I’ll call you from now on. Forget Short Pork, you are Nerd Pork forever!”
“Fuck off!” I yell, and take a swipe at him. My fist nails him across the chin, and he cries out. I hear some scraping against rock then nothing except for the Zs below. “Rafe? Dude? You still up here?”
“That’s all I needed,” he says as his fist hits me in the chest. His other fist catches me in the shoulder, and he adjusts fast and throat punches me.
I wish people would stop punching me in the throat. It makes it impossible for me to use my brand of sarcasm against them. I know sarcasm fu, yo.
Another fist to the throat, then one to my cheek. I try to hit back, but he stays out of my reach. I guess I should have thought it through more before picking a fight with a trained killer. He’s no Blind Swords
man, but he did used to hunt people, like he said. I used to figure out how high to build fences, and how many rolls of razor wire we needed. We have different skill sets.
I decide the only way to win is to just not get hit, so I flatten myself on the boulder and cover my head with my arm. I hear his hands swinging above me, then I catch a solid thump right between the shoulder blades as he figures out my strategy.
“Knock it off!” I croak as I manage to squeeze a few words out of my damaged throat. It’s not as bad as the last time I took it in the throat. “Fucking stop! I’m sorry!”
“What? What did you say?” Rafe asks, all out of breath from throat smacking me. “Did you say you were sorry?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t call you a canny again. Just stop hitting me. I’m done. All done. Let me lie here and just slowly die, alright? Give me that peace, at least.”
“We’re not going to die,” Rafe says.
“How the hell do you know?” I snap. “There’s no reason to think we’ll live through this. No one can navigate a pit that’s a mile long and doesn’t have even a speck of light. Not while there’re Zs shuffling about.”
“That’s not true,” Rafe replies, and I can hear the grin in his voice.
“What? What aren’t you telling me?” I ask. “Rafe, you little fucker, stop messing with me!”
“You’ll see,” Rafe laughs. “Just keep chatting, and then you’ll see.”
“I am so sick of this,” I growl. “Why can’t I catch one break? There are lots of other people I’d rather be with down here than you. Hell, Stuart and Critter are supposed to be down here. I could have bumped into them. Nope, I get the c-.”
“Hey,” Rafe snarls.
“I get the kid, was what I was going to say,” I reply. I’m totally lying. I was gonna say canny.
“I know,” Rafe says. “And you’re talking out loud.”
“Mother fuck,” I grumble. Then I cock my head and listen. “Hey, Rafe?”
“Yes, Jace?”
“Do you hear Zs?”
“No, Jace, I do not hear Zs,” Rafe replies. The smug is strong with this one.
“Why don’t we hear Zs?” I ask. “Zs don’t sleep, and they don’t just walk away when there’s two very loud meals just above them, out of reach.”
“Maybe someone killed the Zs,” Rafe says.
“What? Bullshit,” I respond. “Who the fuck can kill a bunch of Zs in the pitch blackness of this pit? No one has those kinds of skills.”
Rafe laughs a little more, and that’s when I hear the scrape behind me and to my left.
I wheel about and strike out with my hand, but it’s caught easily.
“Damn, Long Pork,” Elsbeth giggles. “Ain’t nobody whine and complain like you. Every single person in this pit can hear you.”
“El? EL!” I yell, and try to hug her, but end up punching her in the boob. She punches me in the dick. That makes us even in El’s world. “Ow. It’s ... good ... to see ... you.”
“Suck it up, and rub some dirt on it, Long Pork,” Elsbeth says. “We’ve got a long hike before we get to the others.”
“The others?” I ask. “What others? Critter? Stuart?”
“Oh, there’s more than that,” Elsbeth replies. “They been catching and bringing them in for days. Good thing I hung back once I knew they was tracking us.”
“Wait? You knew these guys were around? And you didn’t say anything?” I shout. “They have Greta, El!”
“I know, and we’ll get her back, trust me,” Elsbeth says, her voice sharper and more deadly than any blade could ever be. “They won’t hurt her yet.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell us we were being tracked?” I ask, still hurt by the thought that she let this happen.
“I was going to, then everyone started shitting and puking,” Elsbeth says. “I wanted to wait it out then come tell you, but there was another distraction. Then you broke camp and left. I never got a chance. When I caught up, you’d left that farm, too.” She grabs my shoulder and gives it a squeeze.
“Wow, I can’t believe it’s you,” I say. “What are the odds you’d be down here with me?”
“Are you in trouble, Long Pork?” Elsbeth asks.
“Well, duh,” I laugh.
“Then where the hell else would I be?” Elsbeth replies. “It’s a full time job saving your ass.”
“Well, I guess that’s true,” I say.
“We going now?” Rafe asks.
“Yes, we’re going now,” Elsbeth answers. “Did you lick him like I said to?”
“Yeah. He got really pissed,” Rafe laughs.
“You guys suck,” I say. “Totally suck.”
Chapter Eight
There are quite a few things I’d rather be doing than walking through a subterranean pit in an abandoned coal mine while hundreds of zombies prowl around me in complete and total darkness. Shall I list them? Yes. Yes, I shall.
I’d rather be:
1. Eating glass out of a rhinoceros’s asshole.
2. Placing my private parts in a blender and hitting the puree button.
3. Huffing Rush Limbaugh’s farts after he’s eaten six pepperoni and jalapeno pizzas from Pizza Hut. Deep dish, so they are nice and greasy.
4. Sharting while naked and singing the Star Spangled Banner in front of a black tie crowd at Lincoln Center.
5. Shitting out the undigestible glass I have eaten from previously said rhinoceros’s ass.
6. Making sweet, sweaty love to Brenda Kelly.
Okay, okay, I went too far on that last one. Nothing would be worse than touching any part of Brenda Kelly’s naked body. What? You think I am mocking the dead? Yes. Yes, I am. That woman deserves all the postmortem mocking she gets.
I would say I’m in a blind leading the blind situation, but I’d be a total idiot if I ever call Elsbeth blind. Sure, there is absolutely no trace of light in any way, shape, or form down here. Sure, the ground is pocked with holes and strewn with random rocks, boulders, and fissures. Sure, I only have one hand, and it’s currently gripping one of Rafe’s belt loops instead of holding a weapon (i.e. a rock) and getting ready to bash some unseen Z in the cranium. And sure, Elsbeth keeps giggling like a schoolgirl every time she kills a Z and clears our path.
But, it’s Elsbeth. If I can’t trust her to get my ass out of this frying pan, then I might as well lie down, curl up, and suck my thumb until the Zs find the Jace buffet.
“Dude, you have got to be quiet,” Rafe hisses. “You’re bringing them right to us.”
“Don’t worry about Long Pork,” Elsbeth says. “He doesn’t know how to be quiet. Hasn’t shut up since I met him.”
“Thanks, El,” I say. “You really know how to defend a guy.”
“Do I? Huh,” Elsbeth replies. “I thought I was giving you shit. Did I do it wrong? Is there a better way to shit give?”
“Nope, that was fine shit giving,” I say. “I have taught you well.”
“I learned it from Charlie and Greta,” Elsbeth says.
“Greta!” I nearly yell. Quite a few moans respond, and Rafe swears under his breath. “We have to save Greta!”
“You already said that back on the rock,” Elsbeth says, and I hear the worry in her voice. “Your brain is slipping, Long Pork.”
“That’s what I have been saying,” Rafe states. “You didn’t want to listen.”
There are plenty more Z moans, and I have to keep myself from freaking out. Not being able to see a thing is a little bit terrifying. Okay, who am I kidding? It’s more than terrifying. I’d probably be shitting my pants if my asshole wasn’t clenched so tight from fear.
“Seriously, man, you have to be quiet,” Rafe growls.
“Don’t worry about it,” Elsbeth says. “It’s easier when I know they are coming. Better than getting a surprise from behind.”
I so want to make a joke about El’s last statement, but the sounds of her crushing Z skulls, and then the issue of having to s
tep over the fallen Zs, distracts me from a golden, sarcastic opportunity. Sometimes you have to let the perfect setup go for the greater good. That greater good being me staying on my feet and not falling over a dead Z. I want to clear that up in case there is any confusion. Greater good equals me staying on my feet.
“Can I gag him?” Rafe asks. “Please? You’re used to it, but I’m not. This guy would have been Sunday dinner back on Cannibal Road.”
“Fuck you,” I snap. “You’re fucking forgetting I survived Cannibal Road, bitch. I not just survived, but I escaped. With my family! So eat my shit, fuckhead!”
“You escaped because I helped you,” Elsbeth says. A few moans, some hard thunks, a few thuds, I step over more Zs, Elsbeth continues. “I set it up so you could get that Bronco. I set it up so I was with the cannies by the quarry. I set it up so Barfly came after me, and you Stanfords could get away.”
“But John had to shoot the fucker to save you,” I say. “So don’t think you’re some superhero.”
“I don’t think I’m a superhero, Long Pork,” Elsbeth responds. “I just think I’m the girl that has to save your ass all the time. Can’t argue with that, can ya?”
“Nope, I can’t,” I say. “And I wasn’t. I was arguing with Rafe here. Every point you made is valid. I just don’t want Rafe to think he’s better at surviving than me. He’s the one that had to join up with our convoy to get away from that canny hell.”
“Then why are we arguing?” Elsbeth asks.
“We aren’t,” I say. “Are we?”
“You people are so fucked in the head,” Rafe says. “And considering the shit I’m in, I think I was safer back on Cannibal Road.”
“Feel free to head on back, tough guy,” I say. “Just go about fifty paces out, and hang a left. I’m sure you’ll get there eventually.”
“Fuck off, Short Pork,” Rafe says.
“What’s all this Short Pork shit?” Elsbeth asks. “His name is Long Pork.”
“I didn’t start it,” Rafe replies. “That Critter guy did. He was making fun of Jace’s little dick.”
“Hey! Fuck you!” I shout.
More than a couple Zs groan in response. In fact, I might say quite a few Zs groan in response. And they are close. Like really close. Really, really, really close. I could probably reach out and touch-.
