by J. B. Havens
My heart hammered as my ears picked up on a sudden noise. Instinct told me to keep out of sight, so I ran for some bushes near the side of a house. I didn’t want to run into humans who shot first and asked questions later. With my blue lips and white skin they’d take me for an average zombie. I wouldn’t blame them for shooting me, but that didn’t mean I wanted to actually be shot. The noise became more distinct as it got closer. A snowmobile.
“Fuck me skipping sideways.” I hung my head and hid myself as best I could. Little good it would do, my tracks in the snow led right to me. What I couldn’t figure out was what the hell these fuckwads were thinking. The noise from the engines would draw in zombies from miles around. They were obviously doing this on purpose and I didn’t want to hang around and find out why.
Since the fall of society, groups of survivors had formed small communities. While some of those communities were your average people, trying to stay above ground for another day, others were murderous bands that relished in the brutality of this new world. The roar of the engine grew louder still, making my ears pound from the noise.
A black blur screamed down the road in front of me, snow kicking up and flying through the air. I considered making a run for it. There was a steep embankment leading to the woods behind the split-level house I hid near. A second snowmobile joined the first and they took turns racing up and down the street. The riders were bundled up in layers with helmets covering their faces, so it was impossible to tell if they were male or female. So far they hadn’t noticed me, but I was sure it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
As baffled as I was by their behavior, I was just as desperate to move. On hands and knees behind the bush I crept toward the back of the house, pausing every time I heard the engines get louder. My speed would be an advantage. I could probably get to cover faster than they could get to me, but running across the open yard to the woods I may as well paint a target on my back. I hadn’t seen any weapons, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have them. I didn’t need to find out how good my healing was.
One of the snowmobiles came racing into the back yard, followed quickly by the second. I decided to make a run for it. While I was sure I could destroy them physically, the memory of Ethan’s hot blood in my mouth was too fresh. I had a better chance out in the open than I did trapped against the side of the house.
The sun hit me directly in the face when I stood. Wincing, I threw my arm up and that hesitation cost me the few seconds’ head start I needed to outdistance the riders. They’d spotted me. Glaring at them from eyes streaming with tears I made a break for the trees.
One snowmobile cut me off, anticipating my path of escape. Pivoting quickly, I ran to the left trying to get out and around. The hill was just ahead. I can make it. The sound of an engine was close behind me, the sun sapping my strength and speed. Juking to the right, I made a split second decision to change tactics.
Skidding to a stop on slippery snow, I turned and faced my pursuer. Planting my feet, I dug my toes in and leapt with all the strength I could muster. My jump took me sailing sideways into him, knocking him off the snowmobile. We landed in the snow with me riding him like a burr. Not giving him time to react I broke the strap on his helmet and threw it off.
“You’ve made a grave mistake,” I growled, inches from his face. Salivating at the victim below me, I forced myself to only knock him out. A swift blow to the temple did the job nicely. The goal is to NOT eat people.
I hated that I needed to remind myself at all.
The other rider had made a turn and was coming straight at me, impossibly fast. Crouching down slightly, I kept my eyes on the target and waited. I just hoped my plan would work. What felt like only a split second later, he was close enough. I stepped aside at the last minute while reaching out and snagged the fucker by the throat, getting a good grip up under his helmet. Muscles straining, I jerked him off the machine. Ripping his helmet off with the other hand I ignored the sound of the crashing snowmobile behind me.
The man’s face was quickly turning from red to purple. My anger and adrenaline overrode the last slice of humanity that I was so desperately clinging to. I dropped him to the ground, intent on stomping on his face. He curled up, gasping for air, and clutching his throat.
“W-what…are…y-you?” he gasped the words painfully.
“Just your friendly, neighborhood talking zombie. Nothing to worry about. Until you and your idiot friend decided to come after me.”
His eyes bugged out with fear and shock. I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad. Scaring people has always been fun, like Halloween every day. I raised my foot, swinging back to unleash a devastating kick to the dipshits head.
Crunching snow behind me was my only warning before something stung deep into my back. Electricity froze my muscles and dropped me into the snow, stiff as a board. A clicking sound and laughter were all I heard before my eyes rolled back into my head and darkness swallowed me.
Chapter Three
Kelle woke quickly. She knew night had fallen without needing to look. The darkness had a smell to it, a feel that was hard to describe. It was the chill that ran along your neck when you walked down a long black, empty hallway. The knot in your gut was your long-buried caveman instinct telling you that danger lies where the shadows are thickest, in the unknown.
Her teeth flashed behind an evil grin. Kelle was no longer afraid. Now she was the scary monster, the thing made of fear and nightmares that caused children to wet the bed and mothers to clutch their babies tight.
“Tremble in fear, my darlings. It only makes your death all the sweeter.”
With a long, feline stretch, she stood and exited the barn. Her horde of undead children followed behind. A light breeze tickled her cheeks as she lifted her face into the wind, sniffing deeply.
“Um. Smells like breakfast.” Skipping out into the cold and snowy woods, Kelle followed the scent carried by the wind, humming a tune as she went. There were humans ahead and she could already taste them.
As the scent of the humans grew stronger, her zombies became more agitated. They bumped into each other, pushing ahead to be first in line, moaning and shrieking at one another. “Now, now, kiddies. Everyone will get a turn. It doesn’t matter who goes first. Oh wait, yes it does. I get first bite, of course.”
Sounds began to reach her ears, mummers of conversation, the clatter and rustle of a meal being prepared, and the crackle of a fire. Mentally commanding her zombies to stay put for the moment, she crept forward slowly. The flickering light from the fire reached her sensitive eyes, making her hiss through clenched teeth.
Crouching behind the cover of a snow-crusted bush, she peeked around at the ramshackle camp set up before her. A few vehicles were circled like covered wagons on the Oregon Trail. Too bad dysentery isn’t going to get you. It would be a better death that what’s coming. In the center of their camp was a fire pit, tables, and the run down group who had the misfortune of calling this place home. How they’d survived out in the open, in this weather, was unbelievable.
Movement in the shadows at the edge of camp caught Kelle’s eye. Guards circled the camp, keeping a vigilant eye. One was drawing nearer to her position; she could hear the woman’s heartbeat as she stepped closer on her rounds.
She had two options here. Reveal herself and pretend to be the half-dead little girl she looked like or bring her zombies forward to attack. Their numbers would overwhelm the camp easily, especially with her in the middle aiding the slaughter. She’d take losses from her group, but they were easily replaced.
Keeping her eyes on the camp, Kelle reached out with her mind. She tugged on the strings that connected her with the dead and showed them what to do. They fanned out in the woods, flanking the camp so they would attack from all sides at once.
Then, she sent them in.
Gunfire erupted from the guards, but her children pulled them down and ripped their bodies apart. The number of undead was too great for the
half-starved group of survivors. Screams ripped through the air, as the zombies shredded the throats they poured from.
Standing and advancing into the melee, Kelle grabbed a fleeing boy by the back of the neck. His wide, bright blue eyes filled with tears and the front of his jeans became soaked with the evidence of his fear.
“Don’t worry, baby, this won’t hurt.” Not bothering to attempt a reassuring smile, she grinned with bloodstained teeth and laughed, “Much.” Biting into his throat, his hot blood filled her mouth and spilled over, covering them both. He didn’t have a chance to cry out before fading into death with a sad little whimper.
Dropping him so he’d turn, she waded into the remains of the camp. Groups of zombies had people pinned to the ground all over the camp. The battle, if you could call it that, was over in seconds. The screams died out and were replaced by the wet sounds of feeding. She found two zombies sharing the remains of a middle-aged woman, shoving one aside she took his place. As she fed, she took mental stock of her losses. Five killed in the attack, plus the boy who was turning. Not bad for a nights work. As soon as they finished here, she’d continue the hunt for that bitch, Molly.
“Run and hide all you like. I’ll be wearing your entrails as a belt soon enough.” Sucking down a particularly tasty morsel from the woman’s thigh, Kelle laughed and smacked her lips in delight.
“She’s tasty. Don’t you think?” The zombie next to her didn’t answer. Instead, its face remained tucked down into the woman’s soft belly. “Just need some guac and sour cream, and she’d make an excellent taco.”
Chapter Four
I came to, all at once. There was no slow and groggy waking, I went from unconscious to alert in seconds. My arms were stretched above my head, glancing up I saw my wrists were tied together and I hung from a meat hook like a side of beef, dangling with my feet off the floor and swinging slightly side to side.
Zombie chandeliers, great for all your apocalypse home decorating needs.
My thought turned out to be accurate. Taking in my surroundings, there was zombie after zombie hanging in rows, just like I was. Some were dead for good, while others struggled and knocked into their fellows like a giant, macabre Newton’s Cradle. I could feel them in my head, squirming around. Shuddering in disgust, I ignored them the best I could and got to work figuring out how to get down.
I couldn’t twist around enough to see behind me at all. Every time I tried, the hook caught on the wooden beam and wouldn’t allow me to turn any further. Judging by the dirty concrete floor, I was in a basement. The ceiling from which I hung consisted of rows of reinforced wooden beams topped by what I assumed had to be the floor above. There was a small sliver of light coming from somewhere behind me. Thankfully, my vision was better in the dark than it was in daylight.
“When I find those mother fuckers, they’re going to wish they’d killed me,” I muttered as I pulled on my wrists. My strength did me little good when I had no leverage. My feet dangled almost a foot off the floor, and I couldn’t get any momentum behind my wrists to snap the rope.
I was near a wall, if I could swing over and plant my feet, maybe I could push off it and pull straight down. It should transfer the momentum of my swing into the downward jerk of my wrists. Then again, I flunked physics in high school, so my luck I’d just break my arm or something. Giving it a try, I flung my body back and forth, slowly gaining speed with each swing. It turned out to be a waste of effort because my feet wouldn’t reach the wall no matter how hard I stretched.
Foiled again by short girl problems.
Exasperated and furious, I needed to refocus. The zombies hanging around me made a hell of a racket. Stirred up by my movements, they struggled and twisted on their hangings. The closest one to me was a man, he was half-rotted already and leaking black fluid all down the front of himself to puddle on the floor underneath his kicking feet. He kept leaning forward, reaching and jerked trying to get to me.
A horrible idea formed in my head, but I would do anything to get free. He was just a zombie anyway, right? Not willing to follow that train of thought and what it meant for myself, instead I gave my order. “Bite though your arm. Get yourself down.”
He immediately turned his head and began gnawing; ripping through his decomposed flesh faster than I thought possible. Soon, all that was left was his bone. Harder to chew through, sure. But not impossible. He chomped and bit, breaking off several teeth in the process.
In the end, his arm came loose at the socket before the bone splintered. Shiny white ligaments held it together for a split second before they snapped and he fell to the concrete. His severed arm hung from the wrist where it was still tied to his other remaining hand. It dragged along the floor behind him, leaving a slimy trail of old black and red blood. The stench was an eye-watering, gag-inducing thickness that stuck in the back of my throat. As he walked the few steps to me, I girded my mental loins for the next part of the plan.
“What the mother fuck is going on down here!” a deep voice rang out, echoing off the concrete walls of the foundation. His footsteps clomped heavily down each tread of the stairs as keys jingled on a ring with each clumsy footstep. I kept my mouth shut, I wasn’t sure if they realized I was a different breed of undead. He hacked and spit onto the floor near my feet. “What a godawful stink.”
My one-armed minion stood by patiently, awaiting further orders. His feet shuffled forward half a step anxiously. He could see and smell the man, who knew how long it’d been since he fed. The only thing keeping him from attacking was my command to stand still. I realized with a shock that I hadn’t needed to say it out loud.
Fuck me.
“What do you think you’re doing? Weird fucking meat sack. Just standing there.” My captor stepped in front of me, I remained as still as possible, not wanting to draw attention to myself. A machete dangled from his large right hand, the stained and chipped blade had no doubt seen him through many such encounters. Sliding his left foot forward, he prepared to swing for the fences, keeping a two handed grip on the machete as if he were wielding a baseball bat.
The zombie followed my mental directions, stepping to the side, away from the path of the deadly blade.
“Not possible,” the man stated. Losing patience quickly, the big oaf shoved my zombie, causing him to trip over his severed arm and go down flat on his ass. With a move faster than I thought possible for a man his size, he buried the machete in the top of my zombie’s skull. The uncomfortable connection I’d had with him mentally was spilt along with his skull.
“Lou, what the ever lovin’ hell is goin’ on down here?” a female shrieked down the steps, hitting a decibel that would make a fish wife envious.
“What have I told you about your fucking mouth?” he yelled back. “Shut it, you slut!” Stomping around the corpse on the floor, he banged into me and sent me swinging before huffing up the steps.
I swung side to side, slowly coming to a stop. Great, now what? I huffed, blowing hair out of my eyes. I did my best to relax and think through the problem. Panicking wouldn’t help matters at all. Staring upward at the rope tying my hands, there was a small amount of slack between my wrists which looped over the steel hook. I was immensely strong, there had to be a way out of this.
I am such a fucking idiot. An idea struck me, I could get free easily. Use your brain, you dumbass.
Grabbing the hook tightly with both hands I pulled my legs up to my chest, and then over my head. Folding myself in half upside down should have been hard, but surprisingly, it wasn’t. I gripped the chain that the hook was attached to with my shoes, taking the weight off my hands so I could slip them over the end of the hook.
I dropped down to the floor, landing silently on the balls of my feet. Jerking my wrists apart I snapped the rope. Stripping the rope off me, I finally had a chance to see the rest of the basement. It was only a few feet to the stairs from where I stood. They looked rickety and a few steps were missing half of their boards. I glanced at my undead compani
ons, trying to think of a way to free them and send them up the stairs when the door at the top of the steps creaked open.
Shit, I was out of time. I sprinted to the back of the cellar, hiding in the shadows near the corner. I could smell ‘Lou’ and his heartbeat was thick in my ears. I didn’t feel any fear. He glanced up at the empty hook where he’d left me. I could taste his terror in the back of my mouth, rolling the scent around with my tongue made my hunger more intense. Hunger was a sharp pain in my gut, even though I was half-nauseous at the thought of feeding on a human again.
“Come out, you bitch!” He held the machete tightly, his knuckles white with strain. A fine tremble started in his hands as adrenaline shot though his system in response to his fear. The zombies jerked on their bonds, moaning and screeching loudly. He jolted away sharply when they brushed against him.
“Are you afraid of zombies, Lou?” I mocked, moving as I said it, making it difficult for him to pinpoint where I was.
“I’m going to gut you and watch you squirm.” He slashed, taking the leg off the nearest zombie in a spray of blood.
“I bet that’s the only way you can make a girl squirm, isn’t it? Does your gun go off too soon, Louie-boy?” I knew I should stop playing with him and just end this, but I was pissed off. I wouldn’t have even bothered these fuckers, but they had to go and taze me.
Screw them.
I had moved around the room, flanking the bastard. I was maybe five or six feet away and could be on him in seconds. Just as I was about to run at him, he whirled. Searing pain exploded in my eyes, I screamed and tried to block the light but it was useless. I’d been so focused on the blade, I didn’t see the flashlight in his other hand.
“Not so tough are you, you fucking freak?” Keeping the light trained on my face, he kicked me in the stomach. His big, heavy boot knocked the breath out of me.
