Tails of the Apocalypse

by David Bruns

  “We going to do it in here?” asked Walt.

  “Back room,” said Gray. “On the vet table. We’ll restrain ’em with the leashes. You wash the table off. Make sure you bleach it or sterilizing the tools will be pointless. We got to keep em from getting sick.” Gray laughed. “Sicker, I mean. Joe, go get the Infected.”

  Surly glanced at the back door. It might open again if they were doing something back there. Then again, she had a better chance for sympathy with Joe. If only she could make him understand. She decided to stick with him. After the other two went to prepare the table, she flew up to his shoulder. He still had little crusts of blood under his nose, and his cheeks were swollen and dark under the eyes. He shook his head as she cocked hers sideways to look at him.

  “No, Shirley, you don’t want to see this. You stay here.” He held out a finger for her to climb on, but she refused. He wiggled his shoulder. She flapped but clung on.

  “All right,” he said, “but I don’t have anything for you, that was the last apple.”

  He opened the front door and its tiny bells jingled. They turned down the hallway and into the large clothing store. The racks had been shoved to the side, and dozens of humans stood in the empty center, each bound with rope except for their feet. Thick pieces of cloth blocked their mouths, but they still made the continuous moan that had warned Surly earlier. They shuffled to and fro but never moved far or looked at anything for very long. Not even each other.

  Something was wrong with them, but Surly didn’t have a lot of experience with human behavior, seeing only customers of the store for a few moments at a time. Joe grabbed the closest one by the lead rope binding her hands. Surly noticed the woman was muddy and scratched, something she was sure humans found uncomfortable. At least, the ones she knew would.

  Joe led the woman grimly back to the pet shop, Surly still attached to his shoulder. The bells rang again and the woman jerked and snapped her head around, as if she were looking for the sound. The puppies began to whine immediately. They knew something was wrong with the woman. Surly fluttered down to the floor as Joe led the woman into the back room.

  Surly didn’t want Gray to see her and force her back into the cage. She inched around toward the exit door, ready to dart out. Where was she going to go? She wasn’t sure, but it had to be better than the dark pet shop. The men were struggling with the bound woman, lifting her onto the table and tying her down. She snapped her head from side to side and kicked, but the ropes held her tight.

  Gray took off the thick mouthpiece and fished a steaming pair of silver pliers from the dog bowl. “Walt, hold her down. Make sure she doesn’t get loose. Joe, you got to keep her mouth open for me.”

  Joe looked down at the woman on the table. Surly saw the flash of a tear falling from his face.

  “Joe, pay attention! I’m trusting you to keep her mouth open so she doesn’t bite me. You understand?”

  Joe nodded and put one hand on the woman’s forehead and the other on her bottom jaw, forcing open her mouth. “Shouldn’t we—isn’t there something for the pain?” he asked.

  “Did I have painkillers when that bitch broke my arm? No. There aren’t any more. Besides, look at her mouth. Most of her teeth are rotten. It’ll probably be a relief when they’re gone.”

  The woman screamed as Gray pulled on the first tooth. Surly hopped around, nervous. She found a tall box of dog pillows and shuffled behind it, out of sight.

  “Damn,” swore Gray, “it broke.” The woman continued her screaming. It went on and on, the puppies barking and growling, the woman shrieking and choking on the blood. Joe winced with every tooth. At last, Gray stuffed the cloth mouthpiece back. “Get her hands,” he said to Walt. Walt uncurled the woman’s bloody fist and forced it flat onto the table, holding it there. Gray began casually cutting the long, jagged nails on the woman’s hands. “That took longer than I expected,” he grumbled, “but with practice I’ll get faster. Next patient, nurse!” He elbowed Joe cheerfully.

  “I can’t do this,” said Joe, his face a pale, sweaty moon. “I can’t take two dozen more of those.”

  Gray glared at him, but then softened his gaze. “Ah, you’re just tired. Don’t blame you, it’s been a long day. Tell you what, we’ll get some of the other guys to do a few while we sleep. Wake up refreshed and ready to tackle more.” He slapped Joe on the back. Joe didn’t respond. Walt untied the woman and led her out, blood already soaking through her cloth mouthpiece. Gray strode out after him.

  “Can’t let them do this,” mumbled Joe to himself.

  Surly hopped out from behind the box. “Bad bird,” she scolded. Joe knelt down to pick her up.

  “I know,” he said. “I was really bad. This is worse than everything else we’ve done. I can’t let them do it again. But they’ll be at it all night. What can I do?”

  Surly tapped the door with her beak. “Nuh-night,” she chirped helpfully.

  “If only I could bring the Cure here. I know Gray would do the right thing if he were just certain it was real…”

  “Bad bird!” squawked Surly. Nothing that Gray did was right. Even she could see that. Joe opened the back door. The way was clear. A soft night breeze blew fresh air over Surly. She hopped toward the door.

  “They’ll know I’m gone,” said Joe to himself. “They’ll know what I’ve done and come after me.”

  There was movement in the hall outside the shop. The next procedure was about to start.

  “Have to try,” said Joe grimly. He looked down at Surly with a smile. “Stall ’em for me, will you?” He laughed. “Must be crazy, plotting with a bird.”

  Surly hopped to the entrance and looked out. The flat parking lot spread out farther than she’d imagined anything could. The air was clean and sweet in contrast to the fetid stench of the shop. She even thought she caught the scent of ripe berries. No cages. No humans poking things at her or grabbing or scolding.

  “Well,” he said to her, “in or out. I have to go, and fast!”

  Surly looked up at him. With nothing to delay the bad man, he’d catch Joe for sure. He’d hurt Joe. Joe who didn’t yell when she bit him. Who took her away from the roiling smoke. Who saved her. The bells on the shop’s front door jangled. The men were back with another Infected. “Nuh-night, Joe,” she cooed softly, then flapped away, back into the store. Joe slid out the door and gently closed it without a sound.

  It was up to her to stop them, to buy Joe some time.

  She flew around the back room in a loop. The men had been very careful to clean everything before they started. They’d put the tools in water and scrubbed down the table. Maybe if she soiled it, they’d have to stop and clean it again.

  Surly landed on the table, her claws clicking on its hard surface. She let a few droppings splatter behind her onto the table and tried to grab the tools. But they were heavy. She nudged the bowl, trying to tip it before the men came in. She could hear Gray talking to them in the front and knew she didn’t have much time. She flew up and hurtled back down toward the bowl, her momentum nudging it off the small stool and dumping the tools onto the floor with a clattering splash.

  She surveyed her work. Not enough. They’d have it cleaned in seconds. A cup of bloody teeth and filthy nail shavings sat on the counter next to the table. Surly found it light enough to pick up with her claws. She dumped it and the teeth skittered across the table, leaving bloody trails behind them.

  The men were coming. The table was as dirty as she could make it. She glided over the heads of the men to the top of one of the shelves. Surly heard them swearing as they saw the table. She tucked her head under her wing, confident she’d distracted them enough.

  * * *

  After a few moments of swearing, the men had started the fire again, trying to boil enough water to sterilize the table and tools again. Surly had fallen asleep waiting for Joe, sure she’d delayed the men for long enough. When she woke to the screams of an Infected, she knew they’d returned to their grisly dental work.
She tried to come up with another plan to stop them, even though she thought it pointless. Humans didn’t learn. They were so stubborn. But Joe thought it was important, so she fluttered down to the floor and the safety of deep shadows.

  A new Infected was strapped down to the table. Gray was back, yanking teeth with a satisfied grin. The man on the table writhed and screamed, choking on the blood that spilled from his gums. Surly didn’t know what good it would do to try to stop Gray. He’d just go get another.

  She didn’t even know why she cared. She didn’t like when things suffered, but it was how the world worked. Big ate little. Fast beat slow. Strong took weak’s food and mates and home.

  But Joe cared. He wanted to change how it worked. And Surly Shirley was realizing she cared about Joe. So Gray had to stop because Joe wanted him to stop. The world had to change.

  She hopped under the metal table, unseen by the men. She stood near Gray’s legs, looking for a vulnerable spot. Then she sank her beak into the meaty part of one leg. There was a clatter above her as he dropped the pliers and bent down, his hand swatting blindly. She waited until she saw his face, then pecked as hard as she could before hopping out of reach.

  She’d missed his eye. Surly darted in again, grim and silent. She bit his ear and hung on for a second. Gray roared and Surly let go, intending to flutter away for another pass, but she was too late. One of the other men grabbed her right out of the air. She tried to claw his arm, but he just squeezed. It hurt and she went limp, hoping it would make him relent.

  “Give me that fucking chicken,” growled Gray. The man handed her over, and Gray flung her against the wall near the trash can. She hit and tumbled, seeing stars. Surly struggled to get upright but couldn’t stand. She lay on the floor next to the can, stunned and in pain.

  Gray turned back to the Infected. Surly knew she was powerless to stop him now. The screams resumed. Surly lay on the cold linoleum and listened to them for hours. She thought hearing that constant shrieking would push all the words she knew right out of her brain. All that’d be left would be the unending sound of human screaming.

  * * *

  At last the door opened and the cool, clean air ruffled through Surly’s feathers. She saw Joe’s boots, and then another pair. Bloody and sweating, Gray turned around from his gruesome work.

  “Who the hell is this, Joe?” he asked, brandishing the pliers, a bloody tooth still clasped in them.

  “I wanted to show you. I knew if you heard it for yourself, you’d help me get the Cure to the herd.”

  Gray motioned for the other men to take the Infected out. “You’re from the City?” he asked the stranger.

  The other pair of boots shuffled. “Yes, I’m one of the soldiers defending it. We have plenty of room. We can take you all. We just have to go a few miles and we’ll reach the nearest Cure camp—”

  “There’s no such thing,” snapped Gray.

  “Oh, but there is. I know it seems impossible, but the Cure works. I’ve seen it myself. It takes a few days, but they wake up perfectly sane.”

  “See?” said Joe. “And the City has food and electricity, Gray. We could go back to normal there. All of us. No more fighting, no more starving, no more running from guys with more guns. We can be there tonight.”

  Gray seemed to consider it as he moved closer to the two men. He dropped the pliers on the table and wiped his hands on his pants, leaving dark brown bloodstains. Surly wanted to call a warning, but she couldn’t. She didn’t know if she was paralyzed from the fall earlier or from fear. Gray was bad. All bad. Deep-down bad. He didn’t want to quit, he wanted to keep hurting forever. It was like a foul odor that came off Gray in waves. How did Joe not see it? Surly tried again to say anything, make any sound. But she couldn’t.

  “Oh, Joe,” said Gray when he was standing a few inches from him, “what did you do?” His hand flashed out and he grabbed the soldier by the throat.

  “No! Stop!” cried Joe, trying to pull Gray’s hand away. But he was too late. Gray flipped his knife out with his free hand and plunged it into the soldier’s neck. He released the dying man, and the soldier choked to death on his own blood as he slumped to the floor.

  “I told you never to question me again, Joe. I told you what I’d do. Now you made me kill an innocent guy, ’cause you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was keep it zipped for two more days. Two days, Joe.”

  “But he had the Cure. We can save them all—”

  Gray grabbed Joe’s shirt and shook him. “When are you going to get it through your thick skull? I don’t want to save them. Nobody wants to save them. They just don’t want to have to fight ’em anymore. I’m making them useful. Obedient. Safe. Fuckable. Profitable, Joe. I’m turning lemons into lemonade. But you had to interfere. Now this guy’s friends are going to come looking for him. I’m going to have to push up the timeline. We’re going to have to move faster and get out of here tonight. Roll up your sleeves and find a pair of pliers and let’s go.”

  “No,” said Joe. “I’m not helping you do this.”

  Gray twisted the knife and let it shimmer in the pale light of the camp lantern.

  “You want to hurt me for not helping, Gray, you go ahead and try. I think it best we part ways instead. I never joined you for this.”

  Gray sneered. “You didn’t join me, Joe. I saved you. You were blind drunk in that bar because you were so scared. Just waiting to die. Just waiting to be eaten alive. I found you. I saved you. You owe me.”

  “I don’t owe you this. I’m not going with you, Gray. I’ve gone along with too much. You said we were going to protect people. You said we were going to keep families safe from the Infected. And I believed you. I thought we were going to be like superheroes, fighting the zombies together and making the neighborhood normal again. I never wanted to be a slave trader or a murderer. Or a—or a pervert. I’m done. I’m going to the City. If you want to come with me, then I’ll take you. If you just want to hurt people, then I’m done.”

  He took a step toward the fallen soldier, and Gray sprang after him, whistling loudly for his men. Joe turned and his arm slammed like a piston into the center of Gray’s chest. Even as he fell backward with a gasp, Gray slashed wildly at Joe, but he was too far away.

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Gray,” Joe growled. But the sadist wasn’t listening. His blood was up. Gray recovered his feet and lunged again, making contact this time. The two men fell to the hard floor, and the entire shop seemed to shake. Surly tried to twitch her wings, her claws, anything to move. To help Joe.

  Gray was quick and straddled Joe as they both struggled for the knife. His men were finally responding to the whistle and joined the fight, helping their boss to pin Joe down.

  “I told you what would happen if you talked back, Joe. I warned you.” Gray punched Joe’s broken nose and the injured man groaned, unable to shield his face.

  Surly finally managed to move one wing. She tried harder, flexing her claws.

  “Joe’s betrayed us. He’d rather save those monsters than help his friends,” said Gray, getting up. As Joe moaned on the floor, clutching his face, Gray aimed a savage kick at Joe’s stomach. The other men joined in.

  Surly managed to roll onto her stomach and pushed up with her feet. She was upright but dizzy. Her heart raced, and she was panting again. She had to rest for just a second.

  “After everything we’ve done, Joe. We shared our food with you. Kept you from being devoured by the Infected. Gave you purpose. Let you tag along even though you were slower than the others. And you betray us?”

  There were too many men now to fit around Joe, and they had to take turns beating him. Surly wondered who was watching the Infected. She gently flapped her wings, testing them. No way. She wouldn’t be able to do it in time.

  “That’s enough, boys. I want to make sure he remembers this lesson. Get him onto the table.” Gray picked up the pliers. He leaned over Joe. “You know what’s coming,” he growled. Joe twisted and whi
pped for a few seconds, until the others restrained him, smashing him hard onto the table. “Open your mouth,” ordered Gray.

  Surly flapped again. Her wings were finally starting to work. She hopped a little. Everything ached and she had a whistle deep in her chest, but there was no more time to recover. Not if she wanted to help Joe.

  “I need more light,” shouted Gray and one of the men ran to the door beside Surly and opened it so the morning sun streamed in, spotlighting Joe as he writhed on the table. The man propped open the door so he could return to aid Gray, who told another man to hold Joe’s nose closed. That forced Joe to open his mouth.

  Surly saw her chance. No one was watching. She could go. She could fly away and never see this place again. She could find the warm sun and ripening berries and clean air. She didn’t need to help Joe. She didn’t even need to think about him or Gray or the screaming Infected ever again.

  What had humans ever done for her? She didn’t like them, she reminded herself, and they’d always hated her. Ten years in the pet shop and never adopted. Why did she need a human now? No one had ever been kind to her. Not the owner, not the attendants or customers, not even the other animals.

  But that wasn’t quite true, was it? Joe had been kind to her. He’d stroked her feathers and cared for her. He’d kept the other man from eating her, like they’d eaten Princess.

  Joe screamed behind her, and Gray laughed wickedly. He had Joe’s tongue pulled too far past his lips with the pliers. Surly at last gathered her strength and burst upward with an echoing shriek, one she’d heard over and over from the Infected the night before.

  Gray’s men whirled around, panicking and releasing their hold on Joe. Gray barked orders and they scattered to find the Infected that were on the loose. But Gray wouldn’t be moved from his task. His knife slithered through the thick sponge of Joe’s tongue, slicing half of it off.

  Joe’s gagging screams filled the shop as Gray turned to face the bird. Surly dove like a hawk, attacking the arm holding the knife, tearing the skin of his hand with her claws, still screaming like the Infected, echoing Gray’s deeds back at him. She took off again and landed on the back of his neck, slamming her wings into his head.