At that, all four of them broke down like the young kids they were, and began sobbing and crying, tears and snot running down their faces - and they weren’t quiet about it either.
“Hey, hey,” I said as I rushed over to them, and kneeled down in front of the couch. “You guys need to shut the fuck up, okay!? Keep that shit down… Hey, you asked me what I thought, and I told you. What? …what did you want me to do, lie to you and give you false hope?”
“Yeah, you fuckin’ dick,” Eric said to me, in between wiping his eyes and sucking up snot. “You stupid fucker! Fuckin’ asshole! Of course that’s what we wanted! Do you think we’re stupid or something? Of course we know that our families are most likely dead, it’s just that we wanted someone from… out there… to, yes, give us a little false hope, you moron…”
“Oh… well, shit… I’m sorry I didn’t catch on guys, but that’s just how it is… You’re families are most likely dead… but you are not. You know what? Instead of crying like a bunch of bitches - ‘cause that’s what I’m looking at right now, a bunch of little fuckin’ bitches, not the bad dudes I heard jammin’ earlier - maybe you guys should put aside feeling sorry for shit you can’t do nothing about, and just be glad that ya’ll are still alive yourselves and that you still have each other, and that you’re not out there getting gnawed on by a pack of RAVENOUS FUCKING ZOMBIES!!!”
I yelled that last bit right in their faces. I wanted to beat it into them, but at the last minute I lowered my fists and stood up and stepped back from the couch. They made me sick, huddled there together on the couch, crying their little eyes out while the purveyors of doom beat on the doors and walls outside - the house had zombies piling up around it by that point, that were attracted by the kids yelling and wailing. Mine, too.
Sure, I understood they were just a bunch of kids - none of ‘em over sixteen by the looks of ‘em - and they missed their moms and dads and brothers and sisters, and I understood that most likely for the first time in their lives they were completely on their own in a world that none of them was in any way prepared for (who was, really), and that I was probably the first person they seen that wasn’t screaming and pleading as they got their guts pulled out, and instead of giving them good news, I gave them the worst possible - I just didn’t give a fuck.
So I’m a fuckin’ asshole, so what. I just didn’t have the time to sit there and watch those kiddies boo-hoo and suck snot. Sure, I really did feel bad for ‘em, and knew what they were going through - I lost Jamie right in front of me on the first day, and I heard my family and friends being torn to pieces on the voice-mails I listened to at Gus’s house, so, yeah, I had sympathy for them - but I was a man on a mission, I had places to go and people to see, and sitting there with those kids, I could feel the time just sliding away from me.
“Okay, you little fuckers, you need to sack up here, do you fuckin’ hear me!?” I yelled at them. I was getting really pissed by then, ‘cause they were wailing pretty loud and the zombies were really beating the fuck outta the doors - a couple windows even got broke somewhere else in the house, which meant that there was a great possibility of a zombie or two shambling around that we might have to tangle with later.
“Do you hear that shit!?” I had snatched up Joe off the couch, and had my face inches from his as I quietly, but sternly - very sternly - through gritted teeth talked to him. “Huh? Do you, you stupid little fuck?! That’s hundreds of bloodthirsty fuckin’ zombies that would like nothing more than to get in here and eat us! And from the sound of the breaking glass, I bet there’s already some in here, looking for a way into this room! You - and the rest of you fuckin’ homo’s (I yelled over Joe’s shoulder) - you all need to quit it with your fucking crying, and we need to get the fuck out of here! You got me!? ‘Cause if we don’t, we’re all gonna fuckin’ die!”
Joe must not have liked me shaking his ass like a rag doll while I talked down to him, ‘cause he knocked my hands from his shirt with an evil, hate-filled look in his eye, and shoved me back. Right on!
“That’s what I’m talking about! Yeeeeeeah, booooyyy!” I yelled as I got my .22 ready and made sure my .40 was locked and cocked, and ready to rock. “How ‘bout the rest of you bitches!? You gonna sit on your fuckin’ asses and get ate, or you gonna be like your buddy Joe here and man up!? C’mon you fuckin’ pussies, wipe those tears away and get the fuck up!!!”
Right after I yelled that, the front window exploded inward, and two zombies came a tumbling into the living room. I had my back turned from the window, so even I was a little freaked out by that - I dove onto the couch, where the kids were finally getting off of, and in a huge fuckin’ hurry, too.
“Holy shit,” I yelled, “Get the fuck moving!!! Now, move, move, move!!!”
Since I had no clue as to where the basement was, I let the kids run ahead of me, even though they were unarmed - something that bothered the shit outta me - and figured that if there were any zombies in the house ahead of us, I’d just have to try and shoot over or around the kids if it came down to it.
And, of course, I was right about the house having some unwanted guests and had to do some shootin’, ‘cause as soon as we busted into the kitchen - where the basement door was at - a zombie was already there, and I had to shoot right the fuck past Joe’s left ear (and I mean right past, it was that close - I actually grazed it a little) as a middle-school zombie girl lunged up at him from the floor where it looked like it fell in from the busted window.
“AAAAHHH!!!! You fuckin’ shot me, you psycho!!!” He yelled as he clutched his wounded ear. “Jesus!!! It fuckin’ hurts!!!”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth and get down to the basement!!!” I quickly yelled back as I yanked the door open and practically threw him down the stairs. “It’s only a scratch, you fuckin’ pussy!!! Move!!! All of ya’s - move, move, move!!!”
The basement was thankfully clear, and we got to their tunnel - which was very fuckin’ impressive and very professionally done, with the ceiling high enough so we weren’t crawling through on our hands and knees, and with a secure, sealed “cap” that I pulled and locked in place behind me - and out of the house to the next without incident.
53
As we were approaching the exit of the tunnel that opened up into the next basement, I barreled my way to the front of the group, ‘cause I didn’t want any of those dumb-ass kids to walk into the open arms of a waiting land-shark. The cap for that basement was off and I was able to see right in there - and it did look clear - but you just never know. Better safe than sorry.
“Okay, it’s clear,” I said, stepping aside to let the kids in. “Get in here, hurry up, and cap that shit off behind you.”
“Go fuck yourself,” mumbled Tommy as he put the cap in place after we were all inside. “Who put his ass in charge?”
“I heard that, you little shit… And no one did, so shut the fuck up. Joe, did that dead kid scratch or bite you?”
“No… no it didn’t… Why?”
“What!? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? ‘Cause that’s one way that shit is passed on, man. Scratches, bites, and fluids, as far as I know… You seriously didn’t know that?”
“Well… not really…” He looked pretty embarrassed - they all did - as he said that. “I mean, we seen the movies and shit, but… well, none of us has even been outside since this shit started, so we really didn’t know…”
“Okay, that’s cool… how would you have known, right? Well, now you guys do know, and from now on if you meet anyone else like me, you should check ‘em over for bites and scratches - for your own protection. Got me?”
“Yeah,” they all said in unison.
“Okay, good. Good. Now, I was wondering, do you guys have any guns or weapons here or at the other house. If you do, I hope they weren’t left in the house we just came from, ‘cause none of you fuckers are going back in there…”
“Um…” Rob said from the back of the pack. “No, not really. Just the tools we used to dig these tunnel
s, nothing else…”
“Yeah,” Tommy said, “none of our parents were ever big on guns. Joe’s parents even went as far as trying to get guns banned in this county. So, no, no real weapons…”
“Fuck… fuck.” I said. The thing was, I didn’t want to leave those kids without them being properly armed and able to protect themselves, if they had to. “Okay, that is no good. No good at all.”
“Why? We’ve been fine so far without guns,” Eric asked me.
“Yeah ‘so far’, but what if I hadn’t been there - with my gun - when that fuckin’ zombie tried taking a bite outta Joe here? Hmm?” I got nothing in response, just shuffling feet and looks at the floor. “That’s right, he’d of been fucked, and who knows, the rest of ya might’ve been, too. So trust me when I say that you need to have guns nowadays, no matter how you were raised.”
“Okay, so we need guns…” Tommy said. “You gonna give us one of yours?”
“Hah! Fat chance of that happening, kid,” I laughed out. “Nah, nah, that’s not gonna happen…”
“What about the one on your back?” Tommy asked me. “You’re not using it.”
“Huh? Oh… this is a twelve-gauge. It has a lot of kick, and well… fuck, I don’t know, man, I actually forgot I had it on me… Hah…”
“Well, if we can’t have one of those,” said Joe, “then how the fuck we gonna get a fuckin’ gun, man?”
“Well… you guys ready to go for a little run through zombie land?”
At that, Rob bent over and puked his guts out.
“Are you fucking serious, man!?” he asked in between spits and heaves. “Why out there!? Is there any other way than that?”
“No, there isn’t. Well there is, but I don’t feel like or have the time to go on a house to house search for guns we might not even find. Which is something we will not have to do, since I know of a house right down Shooting Park there, that has a ton of guns and ammo in it, as well as about eight dudes that know how to use ‘em.”
“You’re gonna dump us off on somebody, then?”
“No I’m no-” I started to say, when Rob cut me off with a “Bullshit!”
“Hey, I’m not ‘dumping you guys off’ on anybody, okay. I just don’t like the idea of you boys being unarmed in a house surrounded by thousands of fuckin’ zombies, and playing death metal - awesome death metal, sure - that is just gonna attract even more. Can one of you geniuses tell me how much food you got in these three houses combined? ‘Cause I bet not fucking much! Maybe there was at first… but I bet with four growing boys, that food didn’t last.”
“We got food,” mumbled Tommy.
“Oh, yeah, what, you little mumblin’ bitch?” I asked. “A few bags of chips, some Ramen, and maybe some mac n’ cheese? That shit’s not gonna last, and if you turds do manage to make what meager supplies you got last, you gonna wish you hadn’t. Trust me, I was so fuckin’ poor at one point in my life, all I could afford to eat was fuckin’ Ramen for six fuckin’ months straight, and I lost so much fuckin weight, my goddamn doctor thought I had a fuckin’ disease, man! You guys, you’ll die if you try living off scraps like that, none of ya weighs over a buck-twenty I bet. The only reason why I survived my little Ramen break was because I started it when I weighed two-twenty. So no, I’m not trying to dump you guys off on anybody - I’m really not - I’m just trying to make sure you guys survive, that’s all. Where I want to take you guys, there’s a bunch of dudes that know how to take care of themselves (and party, I thought), and that could help you guys if you needed it - like on food runs and shit. ‘Cause I truly don’t think you guys could survive here on your own - sure, you say you’ve been doing fine so far - but there’s been way too much death here, and I’d like to see that there are more people living than joining their growing numbers…”
After my little speech, we were all quiet for a while, listening to the zombies moaning and beating on the surrounding houses - as they didn’t know we were in the basement there - and to the ever-sporadic gunfire and battle sounds that seem to mark every day now. I was about to jump on my soap-box yet again, reiterating the importance of survival and all that jazz, when Joe spoke up.
“You’re right… about everything,” Joe said. “We are scared, we are running really fuckin’ low on food, we have no fuckin’ clue what we are doing here - I mean seriously, making all that fuckin’ noise jamming like we were? C’mon! - and there is no way any of us can survive on our own, really… So… as long as the rest of you guys are cool with it, I think we should go wherever he want us to go. ‘Cause seriously guys, this dude’s out there running around with those fuckin’ things on foot and he’s still alive, so maybe he knows what he’s talking about.”
Thankfully, the rest of the kids were of the same mind and all agreed that they should leave, and quick, ‘cause aside from being scared, hungry, and lost, none of them had even been able to sleep ‘cause of all the fuckin’ noise the zombies were making.
So after I told them what I wanted to do - my exit strategy and travel route to the house where Steven and the groomsmen were - they all ran through the tunnel to the jamming house, came back with packs of clothes, some baseball bats for protection, and then we made our way upstairs to the windows to see if there was a way to get outta the house without all them dead motherfucker’s seeing or hearing us.
“One last thing guys,” I asked conspiratorially, a la Tracy Morgan (I really like his voice, it’s funny), “who wants to bring tha muthauckin’ thunder?”
54
Luck was on our side. Either that, or some higher power or whatever didn’t want to see more innocent kids get ripped to shreds, ‘cause the yard of the house we were in was scot-free of zombies - they were all packed around the jamming house, still, and were packed around and pouring into the blue house.
“Okay, guys,” I whispered as I grabbed the front door-knob and turned it. “From here on, NO talking, got me? (nods all around) You ONLY speak if I ask something of you, and when you do, you make sure you are fucking QUIET, okay? These things hunt by sound, and if one hears you, it moans and alerts every fuckin’ zombie in a ten-block radius, so DO NOT get heard. Cool? (nods) And you,” I said to Eric, as I poked him in his chest - Eric, who I had appointed the thunder-bringer, and rear guard. “You be so motherfuckin’ careful with that. I mean it, it is NOT a toy. Okay, here we go… You guys ready? (head shakes all around) Well, too bad. Here we go… Remember, stay on me…”
With that, I eased the door open, and we all made our way at a quiet jog off of the front porch, through the front yard, and across the street and in between two houses - all without being spotted by even one of the thousands of zombies we were running from. I jogged to the end of the house we were closest to, and after clearing the backyards, waved the kids around me and directed them to get against the back of the house.
“Okay,” I whispered, very quietly, “that was really good, guys, real fuckin’ good. I’m proud of you, really, I am. Just keep doing the same, and all will be cool. Thankfully, you guys jamming like you were has made the area here pretty clear, so we should be cool for most of the way there.”
I stopped for a moment and surveyed the yards, making sure I didn’t direct the kids into a killing zone. “Okay… stay here for a minute, and keep your eyes open. I’m gonna go over there (I said as I pointed to the next pair of houses up) and make sure it’s clear to move on. If it is, I’ll wave you up, and you come running - fast - got it? (nods, again) Cool.”
I then took off at a sprint to the edge of the house I had pointed at - facing the houses front yard - and seeing that it was clear, waved the kids up to me. We did that shit for the next five blocks, never encountering more than a couple zombies at a time that didn’t even see us as we traversed the yards, till we got to Chartres Street - a scant block from our final destination - and were forced to stop our forward progress and take cover behind a couple cars that had -through what had to have been a horrible accident - become one.
“
Fuckin’ drunken fools!” I whisper-yelled, hypocritically. “Fuck!”
What I was so pissed about and that had halted us for an unforeseeable amount of time, was that the front yard of the house we on our way to, the house that I had told and promised those kids would be a safe-haven for them, was filled with the undead. Steven and the rest of the stupid drunk fucks had made so much fuckin’ noise, they had refilled what Gus and I had killed days before. Well, there wasn’t nearly that many, but it was still more than I wanted to guide a bunch of green kids through. And now the kids and I were stuck out in the open, with tons of zombies to the front and even more to the rear - we were the meat in a sandwich that I didn’t like being a part of. If it was a sandwich where Georgia Jones and Alexa Grace were the bread and I was the meat, hell yeah - but not this…
“Okay,” I whispered to the kids, “I didn’t expect this shit - sorry guys. I was here not even an hour ago, and this whole area was free and clear. There was only one fuckin’ zombie - my old neighbor - and I double-tapped her fuckin’ brain-pan. Ehhh… you know what? There’s not that many of ‘em over there. I mean, Gus and I had tangled with twice the number. Frank, too…”
The kids were all staring at me like I had lost my mind or something, talking about shit they had no idea about, but I think best when I talk to myself - you know, talk myself through shit. At least I wasn’t doing it loudly, or singing it out like I usually do - it’s fuckin’ fun to sing things out, and it makes shit easier to remember if you do it in a way that makes even the most boring or pointless shit memorable - I was just whispering to myself.
A.K.A. No Time for a Love Story (Book 1): Just Another Day Page 20
