Super Zombie Juice Mega Bomb

by MJ Ware

Chapter 17 – Zombie Fowl Frenzy

  "Nate, stop!" Kali hollered over the radio.

  It was too late. I stood on the brake pedal, but they just locked up as the truck smashed into the crowd. Immediately, it became obvious they'd gathered around an overturned semi-truck.

  The sound of metal grating against metal cut the air. Sparks flew as we veered to the left, jumped the curb and smashed into a brick retaining wall.

  We jerked to a stop so suddenly my brains rattled in my head. When the rattling stopped, I asked, "Everyone okay?"

  "Nate, you moron!" Misty smacked my arm with the back of her hand. It wasn't her I worried about. Kali had strapped himself in, but we hit so hard I thought he might have flown right off the truck.

  The radio squealed and Kali yelled, "Nate! Holy cow, get the fudge out of here—shoot, get your rear going!" Except those might not be the exact words he used.

  I didn't know what caused him to freak out. But it was a safe bet it had something to do with the horde of zombies we'd just smashed into.

  I threw the truck into reverse and slammed the gas pedal. The engine roared, but we didn't move.

  "Nate, the birds—the chickens—look at the chickens." Misty bounced up and down in her seat, as if she'd spotted one of those guys on the cover of Tiger Beat that she was always drooling over.

  Out the window, a flock of birds circled the truck—well, chickens, to be exact. They looked like a violently spinning tornado.

  "Wow, I guess we hit a poultry truck," I said, almost amused.

  "Nate, don't you realize—the birds..." she gazed out the window in awe. "They're zombie chickens."

  "Oh, dang. You're right." Hundreds of chickens flew in every direction. Each with glazed-over eyes, a lot were bleeding, missing feathers—these birds looked like they were in a really fowl mood.

  I heard a plink on the roof of the truck, then another. The sound of water drops filled the cab.

  "Kali, you alright, over?" Misty yelled into her headset. Her skin looked pale and clammy. Finally, it hit me: a bite from any zombie, even a chicken zombie, would probably be fatal—well, worse than fatal.

  I held my breath, waiting for Kali to reply.

  "Yes, I'm here. But please vacate the vicinity immediately. I do not believe I can hold out for long."

  "I can't get the truck to budge." We were all hosed, Kali worst of all.

  "I've fixed the main nozzle almost straight up and barricaded myself under the spray. But once the tank is empty, I will be exposed."

  "Kali, how many birds are there?" Misty pressed the mic up against her lips. "Do you think we can neutralize them?" We looked out the back window where he sat, but we couldn't see anything except gallons upon gallons of juice pouring down.

  "Negative. There must be in excess of five hundred birds. And I estimate less than five minutes of pressure remain." We could just hear him over the sound of cascading liquid.

  Misty took off her headphone. "Nathan, what do we do?"

  I gassed the truck and slammed the transmission from forward to reverse and back, desperate to rock it free. The truck, stuck on the remains of the brick wall, wouldn't shift—even an inch.

  "What are we going to do?" she repeated.

  I sat looking at her. I wanted to make something up, to say something comforting—anything—but my mind was blank.

  Misty jumped and screamed.

  A zombie pounded on the passenger window. Its hair matted with dried blood, skin peeling off in layers.

  She turned away and slid over next to me. "I think the mister got ripped off when we crashed."

  Misty waited for me to reply, but I had nothing. I thought about my parents, my friends, even Misty's brothers. Now I was sure I'd never see them again.

  "Nate, in a minute we'll be surrounded." She was grabbing my arm so tight it started tingling.

  I sat up straight, looked ahead and tried to ignore the zombies pounding at the window. Slowly, deliberately, I cleared my throat, "Kali, I'm going to make a run for it. We'll use the remaining soda bombs to clear a path, then you jump in the cab. I'll draw the zombies away from the truck and set off the mega bomb. With a little luck, you guys can make a break for it and find some place to hide."

  "That's insane," Misty said.

  I gripped the steering wheel to keep my hands from shaking.

  "Nate, I applaud your bravado. However, the odds of you surviving are infinitesimal."

  "You have better idea?" Misty asked.

  "Actually, I am calculating one now." The words came softly, barely louder than the sound of rushing water.

  My shoulders dropped, like letting the air out of a tire. Though my hands still shook, I figured Kali had something up his sleeve. As annoying as he could be, he really was one wise geek.

  A red light flickered on one of the control panel gauges—the main water tank. The gauge read empty.

  "Umm, Kali, care to fill us in? We're running out of time," I said.

  Static was my only reply.

  "Kali, what's the plan?" Misty screamed. She was looking back. Her fingers dug deep into the seat's upholstery.

  "Nate, we'll proceed with your original plan, but with one modification." Even through the speaker, I heard how unsteady his voice was.

  "One modification? What modification?"

  "No time to explain," he said. "As soon as I throw the soda bottle bombs, exit through the passenger door and I'll hand you the mega bomb."

  We heard a popping sound—a soda bomb—then a bunch more in quick succession. The zombies that weren't taken out quickly moved away, clearing a path up the street.

  Now was the time to test my faith in Kali. I hopped over Misty and opened the door.

  "Nate, no! Don't go!" Misty grabbed my t-shirt collar as I jumped out. She pulled and pulled, trying to drag me back in.

  The bombs had cleared all the zombies right around the truck. Kali slid the Super Zombie Juice Mega Bomb down the side of the cab. With Misty pulling on my shirt, I couldn't grab it. Though I managed to break its fall. Looking up I saw Kali's head disappear over the side of the truck. Zombie Juice got in my eyes; I had to squint to keep them open.

  The juice from the cannon still came out, but spurted a mixture of juice and air. The zombies started taking tentative steps towards the truck. Undead chickens flew overhead. We only had a few more seconds of protection.

  "Kali, throw me your misters and get in the cab. Now!" I ordered. Misty pulled so hard the collar ripped off my shirt.

  "Sorry, Nate," Kali replied.

  "Sorry for—" I tried to look up when Misty's legs clamped around my waist. I felt a sharp thud on my head and everything went black.

  I was out cold for a couple seconds. The next thing I knew, Misty had pulled me back in the truck and I was looking out the window at Kali running into a huge crowd of zombies. Misty was screaming his name at the top of her lungs. He didn't acknowledge her cries. He kept running. His personal misters on full-force, but he'd taped them to his head. Birds circled around him; they couldn't get close enough to take a bite.

  He ran fast, dodging zombies. Which was amazing, because he carried the five-gallon jug—the Super Zombie Juice Mega Bomb.

  "Kali, get back in the truck!" Misty screamed. It was no use. He didn't reply. But I was stunned to hear him singing. Only later did I find out it was a chant to Shiva, the god of transformation.

  Misty reached for the door. I put my hand out and grabbed her before she opened it. We couldn't help him. She turned and pressed her face deep into my shoulder.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  She didn't reply.

  Misty couldn't look and I couldn't turn away. Kali stopped at the intersection, maybe fifty feet away, just as the water cannon died. Now the sound of flapping wings was deafening; but I could just make out his chanting.

  He pulled the string from the five-gallon zombie bomb and started shaking the thing like mad.

  The undead abandoned the truck, all heading towar
d him. Zombie chickens flew over his head or tried to get in around his feet, like he was being attacked by a cyclone.

  A moment later, he plopped down, ripped the misters off and flung them away. Instantly a crush of crazed chickens smothered him.

  The zombies closed in, right behind.

  Misty looked up—her back still to the window—she stared at me with tears running down her face as she watched the scene play out in my horrified expressions.

  Nothing happened. Just when I thought the bomb might be a dud—a massive explosion. The truck rattled. A second later, a shower of water droplets pelted the windows.

  Feathers flew everywhere. A blizzard—whiteout conditions.

  Misty saw it in my eyes. She knew Kali hadn't escaped. Again, she hugged me and sobbed on my shoulder.

  I watched the feathers gently tumble to the ground. The street coated, like newly fallen snow. It looked like a scene from a Christmas movie—except for the chicken and zombie corpses everywhere.

  It felt like Christmas, too. I'm a little ashamed to admit, but part of me was happy, no, thrilled.

  It was supposed to be me out there, but I was alive. We both lived, at least for now. Kali had given us the ultimate gift.

  "Nate, is he—is he alive?"

  I didn't know. A shroud of feathers covered him; he wasn't moving, but the remaining zombies still seemed interested.

  The survivors had fallen over in the blast, but stood back up, now headed toward him.

  "Misty, stay here." I pushed her away and jumped out the door, hitting my foot on a large rock. It had to be what Kali'd hit me over the head with.

  The scene looked even more surreal from outside. Feathers everywhere, even covering the few remaining zombies, like sinister snowmen.

  I started blasting my gun. Letting loose a stream of words like I'd never used before.

  True to form, Misty didn't stay put and stood at my side. Tears stained her cheeks. Her gun firing wildly.

  It was a blur. The next thing I knew, no zombies were left standing and we knelt at Kali's side. I took out a rag and wiped the feathers from his face.

  We could tell he was still alive. His chest rising and falling in jerks.

  "Kali, how bad are you hurt?" I asked with an unsteady voice.

  "I'm okay, guys. Did we get all of them?" he whispered.

  "Nate, he's been bit all over!"

  I looked down at his body, covered in white feathers, speckled with splotches of deep red.

  "Yep. You got 'em, even those freak chickens."

  "Nate, I'm thirsty," his voice shaky and cracking.

  "Okay, buddy. We've got water in the truck."

  "No, not water. How about a glass of lemonade?"

  "Kali, what are you saying?" Misty's voice was tense as a piano string.

  "Hurry, Nate. I'm getting weak—the lemonade."

  I think running into the crowd of zombies would have been easier than this. Maybe that's why Kali chucked a rock at my head—he knew he could count on me for this.

  I ripped off a small water gun I had taped on my suit and tore off the cap.

  "Oh, Nate, don't. Maybe there's something we can do. Maybe—" she stopped.

  I put my hand behind Kali's neck and felt a slight burn, probably zombie snot.

  Misty took one of his hands and held it to her chest. "You were so brave, Kali, so brave."

  My hands didn't shake anymore; they were numb, as if they didn't belong to me. I manipulated them the best I could—like using chopsticks.

  Lifting Kali's head, I poured the juice into his mouth until it was gone. He was burning up; his skin felt like it was on fire.

  "I never thought I'd have friends, real friends—thank you, guys." He closed his eyes and I felt the muscles in his neck go limp.

  Gently, I put his head down and cleaned my blistering hand with the rag. Misty wiped her tears as I put the rag over Kali's face.

  "No, thank you, kid."

  We sat there still, silent except for the small cries that we both let slip out. Misty, still holding his hand. Me, staring down at my hands, soaked in tears.

  I don't know how much time passed. It could have been five minutes; it might have been an hour. Suddenly, the feathers moved, flying in every direction.

  Looking up, I saw a helicopter coming down in front of us—one of those big black military ones.

  It landed and three men stepped out. They wore protective gear like you see in those alien movies.

  I worried a little about what they might have planned for us. I've seen enough movies to know those government types can't be trusted—especially when they're in those protective suits.

  "What happened here? How did you manage to negate the virus?" one of the hooded figures asked.

  "Zombie juice," I replied.

  "Zombie juice?"

  "Actually it was the Super Zombie Juice Mega Bomb," Misty added as she stood and took my hand.