Still Alive (Book 7): Zombie Perdition

by Bonds, Javan

  “Since when can they do that?” I didn’t even bother looking at Robocop.

  He answered me flatly. “Well, apparently now they fucking can! Guess that means we’re gonna have to start cooking nades before we throw them.”

  Every demon inside the entryway suffered a similar fate. The few not yet through the door could be heard screaming, obviously merely singed. Nearly every reanimated corpse before us was now part of the gooey stew of former people coagulating on the floor. Remember that detergent? Yeah, it was now a small part of the ankle-deep slop only feet away. Pretty sure it was no longer helping with the smell.

  ☠☠☠

  I’m sick of this shit. All these damn blunatics, the fucking empty houses, and the goddamn missing kids. Most of all, I’m sick of thinking about the damn preacher and what he’s doing to Eve right now! The perverted asshole.

  Glancing at Benji, I stepped around him and swiped Dameron through the air. “Let’s dance, you fucking freaks!”

  ☠☠☠

  Brushing by me, the Sergeant yelled at the monsters as he brandished his melee weapon. Joy. That meant I would be doing the same. Can’t really shoot at the enemy when one of my allies is standing in the middle of them.

  Salzman slammed his metal forearm into the throat of one reaching monster. Wasting no time, he stabbed Dameron’s blade into the sunken gut of another comer. Pushing his revolver up, the the razor sharp edge ripped everything in the digestive system in half. Gallons of what looked like baby diarrhea spilled out before the knife reached the pelvis. Steel now freed, he brought his right boot up to fracture the animal’s chin. It would now die on its back, unable to do anything but gurgle with a broken jaw.

  Choking on its now crushed esophagus, the creature on its knees only watched as its executioner drew closer. Aiming his pistol at its head, the policeman decided not to spend precious ammunition to make death come quickly to this monster. He rotated his wrist and sliced the blade across arteries in the already bleeding neck. Before the Blue Grim Reaper took the vile thing to the hottest pits of hell, it would experience more suffering.

  Quickly bleeding out, the reanimated corpse sank in the steaming broth of peevie to join its fellows dying on the floor. Suffocation might actually win out over blood loss, this time. I almost felt bad for the zombies Salzman was ripping through.

  Dameron came around, flaying one cannibal in an upward arc across its belly. Guts packed with nightmare mush spilled out as if a cataclysmic event. Wet plops were sickeningly distinct as the creature toppled to its knees with a permanently empty digestive tract.

  Before Robocop could spin to dice or blast the malnourished nudist barreling at him from his left, it reached up and put its hand around his neck. Failing to simply shrug it off, the beast reached around with the other hand to pull itself closer to some bare flesh. It was squirting blackened porridge from between its drooping cheeks in gleeful anticipation. The ghoul was aware it would doubtfully see the sunrise, so it was willing to take and enjoy one last bite. Open-mouth inches away from taking its conciliatory prize, a lashing sound could be heard before the blue cranium disappeared into fading vapor.

  After the body went slack and loosened its grip, the police officer turned to face me. I stared back, bullwhip in hand. “What?”

  “Kind of fucking close, don’t ya think?”

  Laughing uneasily, I brushed the question off. “Nah...”

  Once enough time passed for us to speak, the battle continued. The night duty Sergeant continued slashing revenants, laughing like he was winning a contest. Now that I think about it, exploding the heads of these weasels with my whip was akin to a carnival game. Pop Goes the Peevie. Winner takes home absolutely nothing but their own life!

  ☠☠☠

  With Indiana Jones and Robocop taking care of business on one side of the house, the rest of the heroes were occupied with the other entrances. A fortuitous helping of what looked like mashed potatoes soaked in soy sauce clung to the tile of the kitchen like a demonic shag rug. Zombies not killed outright by the rain of bullets surely met their ends in the drowning pool that was once their fellows.

  Sending so many 5.56 rounds into the enemy, Amy’s fingernail finally splintered. She clenched her fist with the fury of a Valley girl. “Like, you stupids!” Letting her rifle fall on its sling, she reached into her grenade pouch.

  A fragmentation projectile hit the floor and landed between the naked feet of a male peevie. It looked down with ponderous curiosity. Cocking its head, the reanimant stared at the device before bending in the middle to reach for it. Without doing much more than hunching its shoulders, the frag exploded.

  Less than a fraction of a second after the first eruption, the genitals were somewhere above the stomach. Heart and brain were shielded from the brunt of the blast, all so the pain could be experienced just a bit longer. Inability to breathe, the loss of every major organ, severing of blood vessels, breaking of almost every bone in the body, and superheated wave of air washing over the pathetic, soulless creature could all be blamed for causing its complete death. No matter the ultimate reason, it was led up to by an internal instant of dreadful shock.

  Creatures not initially vaporized by the boom were ripped apart, simply scorched into unrecognizable remnants of flesh, or killed by impacts with other zombies or body parts. A few were slammed flat against the walls by the weighted pressure, grinding bones into a fine powder. Every monster in the room was now dead or dying in horrible pain. For a few moments, the only movement or sound in the room was the occasional body parts falling and slapping into the tacky goop of burned undead pudding. Of course, raving screams could be heard from just outside.

  Piling through the entryway, blunatics were bogged down in the quicksand of gore. With a handful of peevies in sight, Amy tossed an incendiary grenade to hang in the sticky juice. “Here’s another one, bitches!

  Before the device could send magma over the room, one of the reanimated corpses lifted it and judged its weight. Suddenly, it tossed the device underhanded in the direction of the humans.

  Hot potato!

  Both HITs sounded in unison with Boba Fett. “What the–“

  No other sound could be registered by the armored champions. Then seemingly out of nowhere, the grenade erupted in midair, just inside the kitchen. Perhaps it was just luck the bomb went off when it did, the bar between the two rooms and distance keeping the living people completely out of reach of the unstoppable napalm.

  What they weren’t able to pick up was the single shot from Devin’s carbine that saved every one of them. That was okay with him. He merely was where he was supposed to be. It was all according to plan.

  ☠☠☠

  Not willing to risk another close call like that, Neal unwrapped Jonah’s Three-Headed Snake from his waist with a tug. He vaulted over the couch in front of him to stand feet from the door. Hearing the next creature approaching, he readied his whip sword. When blue skin was first seen through the entrance, he threw his arm forward. A steel trio wrapped around the outside of the left thigh, fangs in the gaping Cobra mouths on the end of each stabbed deep into loose muscle around the back of the leg. The body of each serpent flayed the appendage nearly to the bone. Today wasn’t its lucky day.

  Dark, hot infected blood began shooting from the leg. Paradis pulled his hand back, ripping more muscle as the points came out. There would be no walking for the rest of the ghoul’s short life. On top of the fact, the muscle was barely dangling, the yank was so forceful, it fractured the revenant’s weakened humerus.

  Before he could rear his urumi back to strike the next comer, a handful already came through the entrance from the garage. As one, the group prepared to tackle him. From his left zipped two objects. Only after impact was he able to discern what they were. A three-pronged sai protruded from the center of the forehead and just under the chin of a couple of starving zombies.

  It took at least a second for both to realize they were headed to their second graves. Yellow e
yes traveled up and nearly crossed, not understanding why there was a leather handle poking from the forehead. Before the animal could reach up to touch the new growth, unconsciousness overwhelmed it and crimson started pumping from the ruptured cranium.

  Even quicker, the other realized the handle sticking from its throat was the reason it couldn’t breathe. With immediate survival at the front of its mind, it yanked the needle dagger free. This caused true death to come more rapidly. Events occurred at such speedy succession, the animal wasn’t able to understand everything.

  Arterial blood immediately gushed from the tiny wounds right above the Adam’s apple. Precious oxygen also escaped from these holes. Something with the consistency, color, and texture of soupy, burned cornmeal shot violently from behind the monster. An impossible amount of baby diarrhea covered the floor behind it. Sinking to its knees, confusion would be its final waking state.

  Robert flung his shield like a Frisbee at a revenant trying to get behind the lines, out of reach of both he and The Phantoms and the three at the other side of the kitchen. The starred shield hit the thing somewhere near the waist. Slicing through the malnourished abdominal wall, multicolored organs spilled out. Without a doubt, loosed body parts were accompanied by gallons of chunky motor oil. Infected blood mixing with blackened shit, it toppled, screaming.

  Standing just to the left of Captain America, the Clone Trooper with black accents ran the axe knife of his bhuj above the collarbones of a charging peevie. Prior to crimson squirting from the open throat, the stiletto on the other end of his weapon caught a shorter beast just above the lower jaw.

  Mahatma pulled his blade inward, ripping open the cheek and making the shocked animal stop in pain. It looked more offended than actually injured. A second before he could make a killing blow, Robert punched the thing just under the sternum. His razored brass knuckle split the belly, meaning nothing would ever be digested by it again. Thrown back by the earthshaking slam, death would take time getting to this one.

  ☠☠☠

  Some type of motorboat rested on a trailer in the garage, under a tarp. Unbeknownst to any of the protagonists, it would become a weapon for them. One of the peevies somehow got tangled up in the elastic strings keeping the cover over the boat. Getting wrapped up in the tarpaulin, it blindly ran into walls, until accidentally coming through the door into the kitchen. It wouldn’t get to see what killed it.

  Like a standing, olive colored burrito, it toppled through the entrance. Finally finding its feet once more, it began moving aimlessly, coincidently in the direction of Neal. Without a doubt, it would be dealt with. Nothing more than a walking, screaming annoyance, he would finish it after dealing with his closer friends.

  The spike protruding from his left wrist went into the side of an infected neck. The hand was pulled toward him, ripping open its throat and arteries; the peevie panicked, no clue what to do. As if guiding it to its final destination, Paradis punched it in the chin to send it flat on its back, where it could bleed out in unconsciousness. The gauntleted slam knocked every single tooth in the mouth into the back of the throat, shattering the facial skeleton, and rupturing the sinuses.

  Sequentially, the zombie on his right went to the same blue hell, just at a much slower rate. Before it could wrap its hands around his arm to pull itself closer, his armored knee launched up into the shrunken balls. Testicles probably ended up somewhere in the stomach by the time the jagged flechettes shot up from his knee. Falling back, it would surely lead to true death, just very slowly and while conscious.

  Now, his next closest target was the beast wrapped up so tightly, he was surprised it could breathe. Posing no threat other than getting in his way, he turned his wrist over to give it a dose of fire. Brimstone would definitely be coming soon.

  A flamethrower melted the tarp to a form fitting capsule in an instant. The creature was now freed from its previous prison. It was able to move each limb, just encased in molten plastic and on fire! No action could be taken other than screeching in painful mourning until it collapsed. Immobilized either by the sheer terror and horrific torture or the hardening tarpaulin covering its entire body, the revenant finally fell silent for the final time.

  Only a few of the blue creatures trickled into the door by now. Either the collective consciousness of the peevies understood this battle was a loss, or there weren’t any hunters left in this hive. At least this pack’s numbers had been decimated at this location. What had to be thousands of blue corpses had met their end on or at this property. Glad it was finally over, the heroes were spent.

  ☠☠☠

  As the herd was thinning, only a few more zombies rushed the gaping maw where the door used to be. Even if the scent of vinegar was still in the air, no way they didn’t know we were here. Surely, they heard their dying brethren screaming in agony, the thousands of gunshots, and the several grenade explosions. Not only that, there was a huge fucking hole in the front of the house! It’s like they wanted to die. Maybe after so long of starvation, painful death was a welcome release.

  Finally, I made my way around to stand beside Salzman. I could send a few rounds from my pistol into the last few attackers to make it faster for us. It might have been a quicker death for them, but I wasn’t doing it to be merciful. From the sound of it, the action in the kitchen was also dying down. We made it through a horde with nothing more than a few close calls. Is anyone surprised Devin was with us?

  And I was excited to see a new evolutionary leap in the undead. Now, we not only had to worry about the blunatics using objects as tools, like we saw at the Crossroads Mall... and shooting fucking firearms like that one at Albertville Elementary School, they suddenly became able to throw grenades!

  When are the damn things going to start speaking? That’ll be fun. Some people might have a problem killing things that begged for their lives. Of course, it’s not going to bother me to drop the evil monsters. I can imagine quivering blue chins and watering yellow-puppy dog eyes.

  ☠☠☠

  As I re-holstered my sidearm, the police officer turned to head in the direction of the others. I was incredulous. “But... shouldn’t we search the rest of the house?”

  “Fuck it! She’s not here.” he shook his head as he walked.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m not fucking stupid... and neither are you! You know just as well as I do where she is.”

  “Then what was the point in coming here?”

  He turned to face me, “Because we are supposed to, damn it!”

  Stopping, that made me blink. Someone else I know said something like that. I guess I understood what he meant, though. We couldn’t just barge into the preacher’s home and start looking around. Well, we could, but it would kind of be against the law. On the straight and narrow was where Salzman wanted to remain.

  Before he made it into the living room proper, Robert appeared from around the corner. “You guys have any problems with them throwing grenades back?”

  Robocop chuckled, “Well, guess it wasn’t just a fucking anomaly.”

  Looking over the cop’s shoulder, he cocked an eyebrow, “Yeah, well... They got one even closer to us. We’re gonna have to start cooking our grenades.”

  Sergeant Salzman shot a finger pistol at him, “Fucking bingo! Same thing I said.”

  I stepped into the room, doing my check on everyone, “Y’all okay?”

  Hustling toward me, Amy was wet faced, “Like, totally, no!”

  I was alert, seeing my girlfriend was in need, embracing her, “What’s wrong?”

  “For reals, I, like, totally broke a nail, dude!” We weren’t just feet away from death or anything.

  Rajesh was shaking the gore from the three blades of his trishula, returning to the living room. I could see by some of the craters in the floor, at least one of the return grenades got closer than the ones at our entrance. It was a bit scary. I apparently zoned out to my surroundings. The enemy could have been on us from two different directions.
Not to mention they would’ve torn through my girlfriend and comrades.

  The Police Sergeant walked around all six of us, squishing over the bodies of the fallen zombies. I looked at his back, “So... we’re done here?”

  He spit to his side, “The fuck you think? Let’s move it!”

  After a few steps into the kitchen, he paused beside a downed reanimant. He cocked his head at the charred beast encased in a semi translucent coffin, “So that’s what a TV dinner must feel like.” Clicking his tongue, he pressed on.

  ☠☠☠

  We all started moving forward behind him. Glancing at the bladed pistol over his shoulder, Amy sighed, “Dude, the sun’s, like, almost up. Where you going?”

  He laughed, “I guess to fucking sleep.”

  It wasn’t hard for me to follow her line of thought, “Yeah, but where are you gonna sleep?”

  Pausing mid stride, he shrugged, “Home, I guess.”

  Helpfully, Robert supplied, “Man, you can just stay at the airport. I do it all the time. Mahatma and Rajesh are going to, I figure. And hell, Neal lives there.”

  Turning to point at me, Salzman grinned, “Yeah, I bet he’d love for me to spend the night. Do I need to bring my handcuffs?”

  Paradis chortled with an extremely fruity comeback. He waved his hands, limply, “Don’t worry about it. You can borrow mine... after we get through!”

  With a cocked eyebrow at my girlfriend, I brushed off the banter, “Nah, only one person will be wearing the cuffs.” Just for a laugh, I snorted, “At least, tonight!”

  ☠☠☠

  None of my questions had been answered. No crime had been solved. The only thing we got out of this adventure was some more infected blood on our hands and the discovery their intelligence was growing. Even if Brother Brown was found to be the kidnapper and was met with some cold justice, would it be worth it? After the blood, body parts, and bullets we’d been through, would the deserved punishment really be merited from our point of view?