by Bible, Jake
“I’m sorry? I don’t quite follow,” Dr. Kramer replies.
“I need you to use that conditioning crap and force me to be at my best again,” I say. “Or better. Yeah, we actually need you to make me better than I was. Get all the synapsis firing at once, so to speak.”
“I’m at a loss for what you mean,” Dr. Kramer says.
“Knock it off,” Stella snarls. “You know what he means and you’ll do what we need.”
“You trust me fiddling abut in your husband’s mind?” Dr. Kramer asks. “Without your protector here? Where is Ms. Thornberg? Or any of the others, for that matter?”
“We can handle you,” Melissa says. “You screw this up and you’ll never leave that cell alive.”
“Hey!” someone shouts from another cell. “Hello?”
We look at Amy and she gives us a questioning glance.
“That’s Nick,” she says. “Can I go speak with him?”
“Sure,” Stella says. “Greta? Go with.”
“Do I have to?” she whines.
“Yes,” Stella snaps.
Greta stomps off behind Amy. Stenkler takes her place by us and Kramer’s face lights up.
“Oh, hello, James! Nice to see a colleague’s face,” Dr. Kramer says. “Please explain to Mr. Stanford that what he is asking will put him at great risk.”
“I have,” Stenkler replies. “I have explained it to all of them. Unfortunately, we do not have much of a choice.”
“There is always a choice,” Dr. Kramer says.
“Not for you, asshole,” Stella nearly roars. “Do what we ask! Do it without harming my husband! And do it now!”
“Well, since you are being so polite about it,” Dr. Kramer says and smiles at me. “Jace? I’ll need you to relax.”
“No problem,” I say. “Nothing more relaxing than hanging out in an old jail during the zombie apocalypse while an army comes stomping towards us.”
“Can you try?” Dr. Kramer says.
“Jace, please,” Stella says quietly as she bends close to me. “We don’t have much time.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “Gonna relax. I’m all about the relaxing. Relaxation is my game. I am the captain of the good ship Relaxarooni.”
“He will need a chair... Oh, I see he has one,” Dr. Kramer grins.
“Fuck and you, sir,” I glare. “Fuck and you.”
“Close your eyes, please,” Dr. Kramer says. I do. “Now, think back on that day when we were on our way to Knoxville. The second day, not the first. You were angry at me—”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” I say.
“You were angry at me and wanted Elsbeth to take me out into the woods and gut me like a stuck pig,” Dr. Kramer continues. “Which is a bit of a mixed metaphor since the actual term is bleeding like a stuck pig.”
“Yeah, I remember that day,” I reply. “You made a point of telling me how wrong my metaphor was. Good thing Elsbeth didn’t listen.”
“When I count to three, you’ll be back to that day,” Dr. Kramer says. “You’ll remember the conditioning I implanted in you. That will allow you to access all parts of your mind. Are you ready?”
“Ready? I thought we’d already started,” I say.
“Oh, Mr. Stanford, we haven’t even begun to get started,” Dr. Kramer chuckles. “Now. One. Two. Three. Blowfish carton toes.”
I’M SITTING UP IN THE weird trailer we set in the huge haul truck. That giant earth mover thing that Critter stole from Foster’s crew after we killed Mondello. I’m sitting in the trailer and there’s Stuart and Elsbeth and someone else. The Tin Man? Scarecrow? Oh, I missed the Scarecrow the most.
“Hey, Jace,” Jon Billings says, smiling that cocky, smart ass smile of his. “Did you miss me?”
Jon was my closest friend back in Whispering Pines. I know I call Stuart my best friend, but that is after the fact. After Jon was shot in the head by that crazy fucker Vance. Jon was Head of Construction in our little apocalyptic oasis. I designed shit and he made sure it got built and wouldn’t fall over and kill people that were trying not to get killed by shit I designed falling over. Or something like that. We enjoyed witty banter, so I’d say confusing shit like that all the time.
“Jon?” I ask. “What the hell, man? You’re dead.”
“That I am, buddy,” he smiles. “I am very dead. But not undead. Isn’t that a nice treat? Being an ex-minister, I have a deep belief in God. But if I’d come back as one of the Zs, I don’t know. It would have been hard to believe in God when I wanted to snack on Melissa’s flesh.”
“Keep your sex life out of this, perv,” I laugh. “I do not need to hear your undead fantasies.”
“How is she?” Jon asks. “How’s my wife? Is she still alive?”
“You know she is,” I say and tap my head. “You’re in here.”
“Am I?” Jon asks. “I hope not. That is one messed up place to be right now.”
“Yeah, I know,” I nod. “That’s why doctor...uh...that’s why Dr. What’s His Name is fiddling about in my noggin. Shit! What is his name?”
“I have no idea who you are talking about,” Jon says as she stands up and walks to a table. “But we have work to do, pal o’ mine. Get your ass over here.”
I glance at Stuart and Elsbeth, but they are mute, just sitting on a bench watching me.
“Nothing to add?” I ask.
Stuart turns to Elsbeth and puts a finger to his lips. She parrots the motion and they both shhhhhh.
“Whatever,” I shrug. Then realize that I have both arms. “Holy shit! Where is Stumpageddon?”
“Who?” Jon asks as he keeps waving me to the table. “Stumpawhaton?”
“Stumpageddon,” I say, feeling my right arm. “I lost this arm, dude. Hacked it off myself with a fucking knife in an SUV up on the Parkway.”
Jon stares at me for a second then shakes his head. “Man, you are one messed up puppy. But it doesn’t matter. Take a look at this.”
I get to him and lean over the table. He’s studying a map of Boulder. It’s a freaky map. Like out of a Harry Potter movie. The buildings seem to jut up from the paper, but are flat at the same time. Makes me a bit dizzy. I grab the edge of the table and Jon grabs me.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Are those people and Zs?” I ask as I watch shit move on the map. “Jesus.”
“Hallelujah,” Jon smirks. “Amen and pass the ammunition.”
“Okay, okay, what am I looking at?” I ask.
Jon points at the map, his finger tracing a road just southish of the University of Colorado campus.
“This is Baseline Road,” he says. “Fitting, in a way. This road will be very important. You can’t let Camille get past this road.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because the entrance to the Stronghold is past this road. It’s hidden, but if she has the right intel then she can find it,” he replies. “Hold this road.”
I point at the hospital. “We have a lot of people up here. That’s a ton of open space between there and here.”
“There’s a ton of open space everywhere,” Jon says. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be able to move old vehicles all along these routes and block off the arteries in and out of the gauntlet.”
“Gauntlet? Fuck. Are you kidding me? Like Cannibal Road?” I complain. “Fuck Cannibal Road.”
“Exactly like Cannibal Road,” Jon says. “And you can’t fuck a road, dude. Don’t even try. You’ll get asphalt all up in your peehole.”
“Peehole,” Elsbeth snickers.
“Oh, now you talk?” I say as I look over at her. But she’s gone. “Whoa.”
“Yeah, your head is ten kinds of shitfucked, sir,” Jon says. “Now pay attention.”
“Attention is being paid,” I say.
“You create this gauntlet up through the suburbs of Boulder,” Jon says. “Shouldn’t be hard. You know how to work the suburbs into being your bitch.”
“I’m all about working the suburbs in th
e zombie apocalypse,” I grin. “I’m the Z-Burbia king!”
He shakes his head. “Don’t get cocky. When you wake up from this, things will not be how you expect. You are going to freak out.”
“What do you mean I’m going to freak out?” I ask. I look over my shoulder and Stuart’s gone too. “Where the fuck is everyone going?”
“Pay attention, Long Pork!” Jon yells.
I turn and stare at him. “You were gone and then dead when Elsbeth joined us. How do you know she called me Long Pork?”
“You have always been Long Pork, Mr. Torrance,” Jon giggles. “You have always been the King of Z-Burbia.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I say and look at the map. Every detail of the area rushes at me, slamming into my eyes, making me cry out. “Holy fuck!”
“It’s already begun, brother,” Jon says. “You’re doing it. You’re making it happen.”
“Huh?” I respond. “Making what happen?”
He stands straight and grabs me by the shoulders. His eyes are bloodshot and his skin is turning pale then grey. “Stay strong. Do not let all of this be a waste, okay? I didn’t die so you could bring my wife to some strange city and let her get butchered by the Consortium or get eaten by Zs, you got it? I am fucking counting on you!”
“I always thought it was hilarious that you cursed,” I say. “An ex-minister with a potty mouth.”
“They’re just words, Jace,” Jon says as strips of his face start to peel and fall off. “Just words. They don’t have power over you anymore. Do you hear me? Time to wake up and finish this. The words no longer have power.”
He taps me right in the middle of my chest.
“Follow your heart,” he growls. “Follow it wherever it leads you.”
“My heart is actually a little to the side,” I say. “It’s not right in the center.”
“Fuck you,” he smiles and half his teeth tumble out.
“Gross,” I say and then grab him in a big bear hug. His body squishes against me and some foul-smelling gasses escape his rotting corpse. “Dude, you farted.”
“Goodbye, Jace,” he whispers in my ear. “It was a pleasure knowing you. Take care of my Melissa.”
“I will,” I say and he’s gone.
Not gone as in he blinks out of existence. Nope, that wouldn’t quite fit the narrative, would it? He’s gone in like he melts away, his body liquefying into a puddle of Jon juice and pulp. Yuck would be a good word to describe it.
But I’m supposed to forget about the words. That’s what he said. He said the words no longer have power over me.
I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I grab my throat and realize that Stumpageddon is back. My right arm is gone and my head hurts like fucking hell. Screams come from outside the trailer and I turn and walk towards the doorway.
As I get closer, I can see outside onto a landscape of brutality. Everything is on fire and there is blood everywhere. I watch as Stuart and Elsbeth tear into a group of who I can only guess are Consortium soldiers. A few yards from them are the sisters. They move like the whirling dervishes of death that they are. I don’t see Stella or the kids anywhere.
I’m about to turn around so I can climb down and out of the haul truck trailer, but I don’t need to. I’m already on the ground.
“Jace!”
I look about. I don’t see anyone. The scene of blood and fire is gone.
“JACE!”
All I see are the empty streets of the Boulder suburbs. And a fuck ton of Zs coming for me. The fast ones. They are sprinting right at me.
“JACE!”
As the wall of undead flesh gets to me, I bring up Stumpageddon and see that I have some sort of spike strapped to the end by a harness with a bunch of leather straps and buckles. I look like Ash from Evil Dead II, but with a long hunk of sharpened rebar instead of a chainsaw.
The undead slam into me and my spike goes right through one of the Z heads. I pull back and keep stabbing as the Zs try to take me down. But they can’t. I refuse to go down.
“That’s right, motherfuckers!” I scream. “You can’t take Jace down, bitches!”
I stab and stab and stab until there are nothing but brained corpses at my feet.
I look down at them and laugh.
“Groovy.”
Chapter Nine
“JACE!”
I shake my head, really wish I hadn’t, and then look back over my shoulder.
“JACE! Look out!” Stuart yells.
To say I’m a little confused would be a serious motherfucking understatement.
The scene of hell is back and there are people fighting all over the place. Guns are going off, but not as many as I thought there would be. Mostly I see soldiers dressed in black fighting with my people. There aren’t anywhere near as many soldiers as there should be. Which is strange.
“JACE LOOK OUT!” Stuart yells again and this time I pay attention.
Just before the machete reaches my neck, I duck down and stab the guy coming at me right in the balls with Stumpageddon’s spike.
Holy shit! The spike strapped to Stumpageddon is real! It’s totally real!
The man screams and screams then falls to his knees as I yank Stumpageddon free. Then I plant that spike right in his throat. He gurgles and blood pours out around the steel then his eyes roll up and he’s gone. I yank the spike out and he tumbles over.
“Get up!” Stuart shouts and pulls me back up to my feet.
Which seem to be working fine. In fact, other than the fact I am missing my right arm, everything seems to be working fine. My gunshot shoulder is easy like Sunday morning. My side and ribs hurt, but they aren’t on fire like they were before. No, what’s on fire are a lot of the suburban houses that surround us.
Okay, okay, mental time out. Freeze frame, bitches.
“What the fuck is going on?” I yell at Stuart. He doesn’t react. “Stuart! Answer me! What the fuck is going on? How did I get here?”
He still doesn’t answer me, just keeps pulling at my left arm, trying to get me to retreat with him. I yank it free and grab his shirt.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”
He doesn’t reply, just slaps my hand from his shirt and starts running with me in tow.
“Whatever,” I mutter.
We sprint, which is so refreshing a thing to do when you’ve been in a wheelchair for days. We sprint towards a barricade that’s set up across the street a quarter mile away. The screams of people follow us. I don’t know if they are our people or the soldiers. Probably the soldiers because there are more of those. No, wait, that doesn’t make mathematical sense. If there are more soldiers then logic would dictate it’s our people screaming because they are outnumbered.
Fuck if I know.
We skid around the barricade and Stella grabs me in a bear hug.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” she yells. She glares at Stumpageddon’s spike. “We gave that to you because you swore you wanted it for self-defense, not so you could go running out there and nearly get yourself killed!”
She hugs me again then slaps me across the face.
“Asshole!”
“Can we hold this?” Stuart yells, looking over at John who has his sniper rifle up and is picking off soldiers one by one through a gap in the barricade.
“Yes,” is all John says.
John. Jon... I saw Jon. The other Jon. My Jon. My closest friend Jon. And he said something.
“What the hell is happening?” I ask. “Last thing I remember was Kramer putting me under.”
Stella frowns at me and shakes her head.
“I can’t understand you,” she says. “What are you saying?” She looks over at Stuart. “What happened to him?”
“I don’t know,” Stuart says. “He’s been spouting gibberish since I grabbed him. Look at his eyes. They aren’t all wild like they have been since he started planning.”
“Oh my God! What are you people talking about?” I yell. “I’m not spouting gibberish!
”
“That fucking asshole did something to your brain,” Stella snarls. “I’ll fucking kill Kramer when this is over.” She puts a hand over my mouth. “Just stop talking, Jace. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
I pull her hand away. “What the hell do you mean you can’t understand me?” I ask. “I’m fucking speaking English!”
Then what Jon said to me in my mind dream thing comes back.
“The words no longer have power.”
Oh, that fucking asshole. Stella was right. That fucking asshole!
Kramer done took my words!
“Just be quiet. Please,” Stella says, a tear rolling down her cheek. “We need to get you back past Baseline.”
Baseline.
I look around and realize we are on the Denver Boulder Turnpike. The neighborhoods around us are scorched as fuck. I glance behind us and see an off ramp junction. That must be Baseline.
We have to hold Baseline. They can’t get past that.
Stella starts pulling at me and I yank free. I stomp my feet and glare. If my words aren’t going to work then I need to go all Harpo on her ass. You know Harpo, right? The Marx brother that didn’t talk? The one with the horn and big eyes that always pulled pranks but looked so innocent doing it?
Fuck you if you don’t know Harpo.
I do a quick assessment of our resources at the barricade.
I see John and Reaper, both putting their Special Forces skills to use and taking perfectly aimed shot after perfectly aimed shot. Stuart is with us and he’s shooting, but not as well. The guy looks like he’s had the shit kicked out of him. I’m a little worried.
Who else?
The Fitzpatrick brothers are with us. They have hunting rifles and are knocking down Consortium soldiers like they’re bucks in deer season. A few of Lourdes’s PCs are with us, but I don’t see Lourdes. I hope she’s okay.
Then I hear the shouts and hurry to a small opening in the barricade.
There she is!
Lourdes and the rest of her people rush the Consortium soldiers. Barely a dozen against hundreds. They are going to die so fucking fast I almost want to run away. But I don’t.
They cut into the side of the soldiers and start firing and hacking away. Pistols blasting and machetes whacking. Some of the PCs have only their combat knives.
