Still Alive (Book 7): Zombie Perdition

by Bonds, Javan

  The rest of the Cora crew was similarly pushing their plates away in disgust. Thankfully, my group was refusing to eat people. I had to get the story on how this "delicacy" was added to local cuisine.

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  Junior finished chewing his latest mouthful of vomit inducing meat and laid his utensils down and began his story.

  “Me, Bubba, and Lester was spending the weekend in the county jail. All because they said we were "over the limit" when they pulled my four-wheel-drive over. Wasn’t nowhere near the limit... I could still walk!

  “We was down in the mess hall for supper, eating our plates of mystery meat and dark brown slop. Suddenly, the janitor burst through the door, naked as a jaybird. He came running at the table, biting some of the other guys, in there for the same damn thing we were. Both guards stationed at either end of the table came at him with billy clubs. Before they beat his ass down, hauled the coot off, he bit a chunk out of five prisoners. One of them turned out to be Lester.

  “The night crew and kitchen staff just left. Cleaned up their shit and took off! Them guards never come back to take us to our cells. After a few hours, we got to wondering if there was any county employees left in the building. I reckon we could stay in there for a good while, break into the kitchen if we had to.

  “Lester and the other fellas got to feeling under the weather. There was something about that epidemic thing them people on the color television was talking about. They says you got it through bites and stuff like that.

  “One of the sick guys plum fell over. We reckoned he was dead. Lester went to check on him. Outta nowhere, he started to get up, hollering and ripping his clothes off. Lester tried to hold the drunk fool down, but was overpowered, being sick himself and all. He did his best to grab the fella and stop him. When the dumbass turned back to shake my brother off, I could see his eyes was solid yellow.

  “I knew right then and there, he was one of them zombies. Ran up behind him while he was struggling with Lester, popped him in the head with my metal food tray. That put him out long enough for us to break into the kitchen, find something to tie him up with. I might've got into some of that pudding while we's back there.

  “My brother and cousin didn't really like the idea, but finally gave the okay to go ahead and tie the other sick guys up. I knew what was gonna happen to them... And to my brother. Deep down, I think they did too. Sweating, Lester was close to passing out. Told me and Bubba to go ahead and tie him up before…”

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  “We was living pretty high on the hog... Considering the people in the next room were raving shit machines. There was enough food to last us a coon's age, even if it was just pudding and slop. Might not've been no way outta there... Least we could eat like prison kings for the rest of our lives.

  “Sometime the next day, the power got kilt. We knew the cold stuff wasn't gonna last. The natural gas was still flowing, so we got to cooking up some of the meat. Drank tiny cartons of milk, cups of orange juice, and fried enough shitty cube steak to keep us fat for weeks. Me and Bubba ain't heartless, threw the ruined stuff and the scraps to the blue guys tied up in the next room.”

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  “Days after we was left alone in a sealed cafeteria with no power... no way out... and no beer, we got bored as hell. The loonies in the other room only made occasional screams and whimpers. There wasn't even a pack of cards! Enough water and stuff that didn't need to be kept cold to live on. Bubba was just losing it being cooped up.

  “Finding no way out, he looked at me. ‘If I'm gonna be in here for the rest of my life, I'm going out with a belly full of fresh meat.’ My cousin walked out into the lunch room, stood in a puddle of shit behind one of the monsters tied up on the floor, and raised the sharpest piece of metal we could find in the kitchen... a cheap butter knife.

  “Grabbing the thing below its chin, he tried to slice its throat. It was kind of dark, don't know if I was expecting to see blood start shooting, but nothing happened. Bubba looked down, surprised to see he hadn't decapitated the monster or even killed it. It was just fucking mad. Screaming and trying to break free, Not bleeding at all.

  “He brought the knife back down to try again. Come up with the same thing, nothing. Eventually, he started sawing on the damn thing's throat. It let out these awful cries and writhed as blood started spraying.

  “There was nasty red all over that corner of the room, mixed with shit that was there for days. Made a dreadful stink. It smelled like the baby's three day old diaper in the garbage can. You know, when you throw up until you taste copper cause you're so damn drunk... and it's in there. Just makes you puke more.

  “It must've died from pain ... Or maybe it finally bled out. Either way, the gushing red became just a trickle. By the time Bubba decided to stop sawing, it was only dripping a few drops down it's chest.

  “Don't know if he knew it, but it thankfully wasn't Lester. It was dark in there. I was just glad he didn't do that to my brother. With kin, I'd want it to be less torture.

  “Started cutting the infected open with his dull knife. Basically, he was sawing and ripping the meat apart to open it. Once he got the body torn apart, it was easy to field dress like a deer.

  “He tossed the still steaming entrails to the other zombies. They slurped them up, not caring where they came from. Guess they were willing to eat it because they were starving. Not because any of it smelled too good.

  “Bringing the carcass back into the kitchen, he started cutting out some of the tenderloin to boil. Wasn't much blood left in the animal. Only left a thin trail of yellow sludge as he dragged it across the tile.

  “I told him I didn't think it was a good idea, he might catch the super flu. He thought about that for a minute. ‘You really think I give a shit?’ When it was finished boiling, he took a bite and said it was pretty good.

  “Said it needed some salt and pepper. He experimented with a few different seasonings. Finally, he came up with just the right mixture. His first batch of flavoring needed a little more garlic, if you ask me, but we still use the same basic recipe.

  “After he finished, he went to the lunch table. Bubba sat down and tied himself up. Said it was just in case he got the rabies.

  “Seeing the sun go down through the small windows near the top of the walls, we told each other good night, and I made my way into the kitchen to hit the hay. I woke up in the morning to hollering. My cousin was losing it. I guess the meat did make him sick. I didn't know what to do. Watching my kinfolk yip and bark like coyotes was driving me crazy.”

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  “After a few more days, I finally couldn't take it anymore. I have water to keep me alive, but I would rather turn into a damn blue monster than survive for nothing. There was no way around it, I was going to die sober!

  “Wasn't going to slit my wrists with a butter knife. I had an idea when I saw that piece of boiled meat Bubba left in the pot. If I was going out, I was gonna do it on a full stomach, too.

  “I could live for something like a month on nothing but water. But I decided I wanted a big ol steak before I met my maker. I pulled the piece of boiled meat out and threw it on the grill. It reminded me of chicken and kind of had the oily texture of ham. Seasoned it just like Bubba and went to town.”

  “I expected to start turning blue and shitting everywhere.”

  “This was it! When I woke up in the morning, I was normal... I was tickled pink, I wasn't blue.”

  “It took me the rest of the day to make sure I was really still alive. Went back to look quite a few times to make sure I ate that piece of meat. I studied the leftovers, trying to reckon what kept me from getting sick like Bubba. Turns out, it wasn't just a miracle.”

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  “For the next good while, I cooked those animals in all kinds of different ways. But always twice. I boiled it then boiled it again, boiled and fried, fried and grilled, fried and then boiled, everything I could do to it. Couldn't wrap my mind around it. Why does cooking it
twice make it okay? But I ate pretty damn good for the next few weeks.”

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  “I was grilling up some liver after a boil. The smoke must've got somebody's attention. I started hearing a racket on the other side of the door, a couple guys finally busted through.

  “They told me they were looking for food. Smelled something better than barbecued chitlins. Come to see what it was. I told them I was the chef that made the good stuff.

  “Both of them sat down for some liver and said it was the best thing they ever tasted. At first, neither of them were too keen on the fact that it came from one of those blue zombies. Once I told them the story, they eventually took the recipe and were happy to help me home to my wife and kids."

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  That was kind of anticlimactic. Nothing about barely escaping with his life, it was just over. "Hey, I murdered several people, ate them, then fed them to strangers! They accepted the barbarism, I went home, and that was it. Tale complete. It was still hard to believe Junior could justify murdering his brother and cousin before eating them.

  Every Cora crewmember already pushed their plates away, watching curiously as everyone else at the table chowed down with reckless abandon. It made me proud to see even Smokes, normally unable to turn down anything edible, was visibly shaken as this family devoured what was at one time a living, thinking person.

  "But your brother and cousin..." was all I could say. I was shocked beyond belief that anyone could be okay with stringing people up like deer and turning them into hamburger meat.

  "I think if they knew they was keeping me alive, they'd be happy. Besides, they wouldn't want me to be wasteful."

  Motherfucker, that's nasty! I'm pretty frugal and I'm nearly a minimalist...but even I don't think not eating a fucking person is wasteful. For some reason, I had to fight the urge to ask him what they did with the hides. That's a disturbing thought. I wonder if they make lampshades...

  As I thought that, my gaze rolled down to Junior's boots. Blue suede. I'll just keep telling myself that's a coincidence. And his belt was definitely Cayman. Should've asked to see his billfold!

  Well, I wasn't going to hate Dr. Mengele...Junior and his family for using what was available to them. Regardless, I couldn't eat people no matter how hungry I was. If it was me in that jail, my ass would have just starved to death before I even thought about cooking up sick human beings. The fact that these people eat former members of their own species would simply need to be avoided in conversation.

  It's like when you have a friend who votes Democrat... You avoid talking about things like your constitutional right to bear arms and exorbitant taxes. All to keep the peace. If you’re wondering if I just compared Democrats to cannibals, don’t bother questioning yourself. Of course I did!

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  Looking down the other side of the table, I noticed The Man Of God mysteriously missing. On his plate was a peevie steak with a bite cut out of it. Damn, the old guy cut into the meat fast. I thought the entire crew had abstained. Apparently, one member had scarfed down a piece of people before we knew what it was.

  Doubled over with his fingers down his throat, the preacher emptied his stomach by a tree. Oh well, at least he wasn’t enjoying it. I would probably be doing the same thing if I were in his shoes.

  Again, I was really shocked that Smokes was able to say no when it came to food. It was expected he’d be the one who already inhaled an entire steak. The Oracle wouldn’t be comfortable with a piece of person in his stomach. His face told me he didn’t approve of cannibalism.

  Wait... If he knows what’s going to happen, did he know not to eat it before we even got here? Why the hell did he let his grandfather eat the stuff? He could’ve told me this morning instead of mean mouthing me for not knowing where we were. It was really harsh and upsetting!

  The Man of God didn’t call for pestilence on these sinners. Everything surprisingly quieted down once everybody got situated. Throughout the story, the revelation, and the preacher purging himself, the rest of the locals were enjoying every bite of person. I wanted to ask Junior if he had noticed any change in their stool consistency... Extra fiber?

  Instead, I pushed my plate a little further away. “So are there still that many peevies around?”

  Though it wasn’t my first utterance, he snickered at my name for the zombies. “There ain’t as many as there was in the beginning. We ain’t hunting them that much. I reckon they’re going to where the people are.”

  At least now I know he’s not consuming that much human flesh. His amount of cannibalism is limited, so does that make it okay? It’s also good to know that I’m not the only one who assumed they were migrating north. If that’s so, though, won’t there eventually be less people there? Then, they’ll start heading south again. Shit! Not only will they be damn yankees, they’ll be blue.

  It was getting late in the afternoon. Though we didn’t have to be particularly afraid of the dark anymore, the undead did become more active after sunset. It was a good idea not to be wandering around in the dark more so than during the day.

  “Well Junior, I’d like to thank you for your hospitality. As the captain of the Viva Ancora, I’d offer you any assist –”

  A kid that looked like Alfalfa interrupted me from the other end of the table. “The pirate ship?”

  Hesitantly, I nodded, knowing exactly what he was going to demand. “I wanna see!”

  Suddenly, what seemed like hordes of children began shouting from around the table. I don’t remember them being there when we got to our seats. They just spontaneously appeared when a pirate ship was mentioned. Maybe it’s the curse of Mo.

  You’d think children below the poverty line would be worried about their families not starving to death or their monthly bath. Even these kids make demands for a damn tour! They probably would’ve dropped out of school before they were old enough to see this elementary field trip location anyway.

  Raising my hand, they began quieting down. “The crew needs to go tidy up the ship. Y’all can come for a tour down by the dock tomorrow.” Why the fuck do I make it sound like I give a shit?

  All the children around the table began cheering. Even the fucking babies were squealing, for some reason. Youngsters that don’t have literacy, toothbrushes, or education somehow know all about a fucking tourist attraction. Did I miss the incredibly successful The Viva Ancora Show?

  I don’t believe my sigh was audible when Junior cut in. “I reckon y’all wanna get on back... but I think y’all are gonna wanna stay here at the homeplace tonight.”

  I looked around, noticing the chain-link fence surrounding this property. Surprising, I hadn’t realized it was already so late in the day. Guess I was just entranced by the story about murdering family members before devouring them. Also, I just realized the gate was closed. That meant we wouldn’t be attacked by the walking dead while we were eating. Still, I was a little bothered I could be a prisoner.

  Slowly standing, I pushed my chair back. Like a cow being led to slaughter... or back behind the barn to be raped several times, I cocked my head. “Why?”

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  45

  Sly, Sly, Sly

  “Well, I just don’t guess it was His will for us to get any honey.”

  “Not your fault, preacher. We know you do what you can.”

  “At least you found some freeze-dried stuff. Made the trip worth it.”

  “Just goes to show you, the Lord provides.”

  “Good job, brother.”

  “Thank you, Pastor Mike!”

  Those were just a few of the congratulations he received. Normally, they were accompanied with backslaps. All over the right shoulder. Everyone was proud of their holy man for providing for the church. Even with his fresh battle scar.

  It was next to unbelievable that he recovered so quickly from a wound that would simply end most. Only the power of Christ could lead to such miraculous healing. The Master was aware that His church needed the d
irection of its Shepherd, so He allowed the minister to stay strong for the faithful.

  The Wolf could only smile and nod as he walked among the sheep. What the fuck is wrong with these goddamn retards? They heard about little Eve... “But fuck that! The preacher’s got human flesh for us to eat. We think about the important shit first. Cannibalism comes before innocent children!”

  Even Peacock’s over there smiling like he just won the fucking lottery. Yeah, Grace, that bitch he calls a wife, was a little worried about their poor daughter. But even she’s too busy drowning in the goddamn praise being dumped on her idiot husband to be bothered going out to look for the kid! Maybe later, huh?

  Standing at the podium at the head of the fellowship hall, the supposed temporary replacement for The Man of God grabbed the microphone. “Children... God has seen us through yet again!” His opening line was met with an eruption of loud cheers

  After a pause, he began again with a chuckle. “I was hoping to find some honey... But what we mortals want is not always what He hath prepared for us.” Everyone turned as he gestured to the triumphant conquerors who accompanied him. “With the help of my Christian brothers, God bestowed upon us... more than enough stores to provide for the faithful for the foreseeable future!!” Once more, the summation was broken with uproarious applause.

  What is this, the goddamn state of the union address? “It has been made plain, at least to me, the Almighty is simply organizing His body for the righteous conflict to come! Tomorrow, a group will travel to fetch what our Holy Father harvested for us... while another section of the congregation makes the first move against the minions of Lucifer. After we feast tonight on the bounty our gracious Creator has presented us... I am commanded we should fast and greet the sun tomorrow in prayer!” Thunderous clapping nearly rattled the building.

  Continuing to build up the entire church body, he made them feel justified in fighting oppression. Deceit was the greatest tool of The Wolf. Almost truths, half-truths, and flat out lies were so tightly woven with fact, it was nearly impossible for the strongest mind to break the spell.