Janus (Zombies versus Dinosaurs Book 2)

by James Livingood

  His howl gained form. It was a word he had heard, somewhere in the distant past. It felt strange on his lips. He did his best to shape it like clay. The loud ‘Awoo’ sound formed into a ‘aHuuuu’ before his breath faded out. He got up and started running again. He sucked in breath as he ran toward a clearing. As he broke out into the clearing, he continued his verbal artistry. He formed “aHuuuu” to “Huummm”. He sucked in more breath and thought feverishly about the alphas. Their struggles, their mistakes, their passions. He continued screaming and got “Hummmaaa” out. He had almost remembered. It was something amazing and needed to be expressed.

  “Huumaan!” He poured out into the world. It was the shape of what he had discovered. It had been his throat to exhale the form in this world. It had been his brain to decide this was the proper time. He stood, alone in the clearing, enjoying what he had brought. No one would have heard. No one would appreciate. This was creation for the pleasure of creation.

  While the alphas struggled with their packs and how they led, he had found his definition of freedom. Freedom meant having no path. True freedom meant building that path for yourself. He would be a creator. He would create a path. That would mean making the wrong steps, tripping over logs, and offending the wrong people. The beta felt joy at that. It would still be his path, his creation. He would embrace his curiosity. He would embrace creation. After all, to him, this was what it meant to be ‘human’.

  He pushed forward to watch something amazing. It had been a light that drew him in. He wasn’t sure why he was so fascinated by the other pack’s herder. He now knew why he was curious. He wanted to discover more. He would learn about the pack’s creation. He wanted to see her face as she created. He wanted that for himself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:

  Escape

  Paul dodged around houses and piles of rubble. The horde continued to chase after him. He knew that finding high ground and trying to wait it out would not work this time. He needed to do something that few had ever accomplished; escape these blue brain zombies on foot.

  He contemplated finding a weapon and destroying them. After all, a dead zombie couldn’t chase after anyone. He risked a peek back and saw way too many to risk that strategy. Even if he had been fully armed, that would have been too many to dispatch. The best he could do was to find choke points and run through those. He hoped that it would be enough to slowly cause attrition in the numbers. Perhaps after that he could try and hide. If one or two popped up nearby, he could dispatch them and continue getting away.

  He went out of an alley way and saw a zombie waiting on the other side, mouth wide and lurching toward him. Paul knew that he didn’t have time to slow down or stop. There was no time to halt his momentum. Paul crouched slightly as he walked and twisted his good arm into the blue brains side. He didn’t need to destroy, only to make an opening for him to get away. The move was risky and showed as Paul’s foot slipped on some rubble.

  Paul’s momentum and fear caused an instant reaction to put the other foot forward. Paul caught himself in time. He continued past the zombie down a narrow alley way. This had been the sixth or seventh alley way he ducked through. Beyond being a natural choke point for zombies, it was dark and harder to see. He hoped that many of those creatures would become confused. Paul was happy with his progress and decided to look back again. Perhaps if they had dwindled down enough he could start hiding and dispatching the top of the hunting pattern.

  Paul did not like what he saw. Not only was the majority of the zombies still there, one of them had even found a slower dinosaur to ride. Paul had no doubt that if they found the right dinosaur, they could simply run him down. Paul was fast and trained to out maneuver these things. He was not faster than most dinosaurs.

  He decided on another strategy since they seemed whipped up into a fever. He would find an explosive of some sort. Paul had a hard time recognizing the town as it was now. Many of the houses and storage buildings were ruins. Shadows of what they had been just earlier in the day. What he found most concerning were not the buildings though. What frightened Paul were the lack of humans. It was as if the town had been evacuated beforehand. He knew that was not the case. A large part of the town would be dead or on their way to turning into zombies. Perhaps that’s he didn’t feel as bad about his upcoming plan.

  Paul darted into the storage building containing the explosives. He grabbed several and stuck them in his pockets. He didn’t have much time, so he grabbed one and threw it near a pile that had spilled out on the floor. He grabbed the unit’s remote detonator and tried to wait for the un-dead to come piling in. He realized, to his mistake, that he had not created a good choke point. Zombies began to pool in from entrances behind and in-front of him. Paul cursed himself for not building a better strategy. He pushed some barricades against one of the windows. This next part would be risky. It would be far riskier than even he had anticipated.

  Paul turned and began to fight the zombies on the other side of the building. He knew that he had to make a hole in their ranks. The risk came from that the zombies would realize that he was on one side of the building and all flock there. He was hoping that their blood lust would be enough to blind their actions. Paul hoped that they would spend extra time on his impromptu barricade. As he heard boxes tumble from the other side of the storage building, he would have felt better. The only problem was that the hole he needed in the zombies didn’t seem like it was happening. He needed to kill enough of these creatures on this side of the building to escape. However, they just kept coming. Paul would down one or two with a found weapon and more would simply step in. Paul worked franticly and did his best to build a hole in their ranks.

  After lodging a piece of broken wood through the eye of zombie, Paul saw the alley way on the other side. It was enough and Paul decided to take the risk. He tried darting past the horde and into the alley way. A blue brain grabbed his ankle while he tried to dart and he could feel himself slipping to the ground. Time slowed and he knew that if he hit the ground, he may not get back up. These creatures might devour him in a mere moment. Paul spied a large piece of wood nearby. He was just outside the building and hoped it would be enough. As he fell Paul covered himself with the piece of wood. Near instantly a large weight settled on the wood. He knew that weight was zombies wanting to eat their meal on the other side.

  Paul clicked the detonator he had found in the storage building. It erupted in a large fireball destroying most of the heard. Paul could feel his shoe melting on his foot. It was not a pleasant sensation. He held tight to the wood, even though it too was on fire. Metal bloomed through the wood and mere inches from where his ribcage was located. Paul shoved hard and saw charred zombies throughout the carnage. Many of them were starting to get to their feet. Paul hoped that he could escape in the smoke and chaos. He darted for the alley way as quiet as he could be. Once he made it past that, he darted through another and then another.

  Paul risked a look back and didn’t see any zombies following. Apparently he had been quick enough to escape the carnage that they hadn’t been able to follow. Paul ducked into the woods and wished he had tucked his feet in during the explosion. His feet hurt as they struck the ground. Every stone a reminder that he was alive. He needed to make some distance up and then camp. Not only to heal up and decide his next move. Paul needed to camp to make sure none of the zombies were still following him. He didn’t want to lead a single one of those things back to the main group.

  With luck, he wouldn’t see another blue brain the rest of his life. He doubted that. He needed to fully escape and then meet back up with his daughter. He darted around another tree and pushed forward toward the stream. That would help mask his trail, just in case the zombies could do that too. He had never heard of a zombie tracking down anything, but he no longer trusted his own knowledge. After all, zombies were not supposed to be able to ride dinosaurs, let alone infect and control them.

  His pursuers did not give up easy. They followed him on the b
anks of the stream and continued pushing him left and right. Paul did not know if he was being led to something. Perhaps they were just frantic to kill him since he destroyed that building. Still he pushed on, one step ahead of the creatures. Where they were not, he fled. He would go left if they were on the right. If they were on the right, he would go left.

  After pushing through some heavy brush, Paul found himself at the entrance of a cave. He was worried about this as his pursuers appeared to avoid this area. Either they were leading him, and setting up for the ambush, or their was something truly terrifying here. Perhaps a kind of beast that they could not control. Perhaps there was something in this cave that would eat them quickly. Paul did not like either option. Still, he pushed into the cave, ready to fly at a moment’s notice. He could smell something foul and horrible on the air. It was like a flock of birds and an acid cleaner.

  He risked a peak inside and saw that there was a light further on in the tunnel. A light meant that it wasn’t a zombie. Those blue brains didn’t seem to need or use electricity. That meant the chance was good that it was a hide out or something man made. Hopefully, it wasn’t some kind of booby trapped storage space. That would explain why so many zombies were afraid of this area. Perhaps they kept getting stuck in some kind of trap? Paul decided to do the only sensible thing, the most non-zombie thing he could think of: yell.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:

  Paul's Daughter

  Paul’s daughter had escaped in the panic. She didn’t want to go. Every fiber within her small frame told her to hunt and kill. To run with her father and destroy these foul beasts. She felt no regret or shame over the desire to destroy the zombies or their infected creatures. To repair society it was often required to lance a boil. She knew from her own playtime that society would harden like a callous. It would become all the more robust from this. Still, it would hurt. Her heart hurt as she was dragged off into the distance.

  “Let me go or you’ll be sorry!” she kicked and protested.

  Like most grown-ups in this age, these were not weak humans. Muscles showed through the dirt and grime. The arms were carved fleshed, honed to their purpose. Their purpose now was to carry Paul’s daughter to safety. She knew that struggling would be useless, but it was all she could do. She then bit down deep on the flesh. This caused the person to drop her and look wildly. She knew what those eyes were seeking. Her escort was looking to see if she was infected. If she was infected, then he would be infected. If he was infected, it was a death sentence.

  A large boom and crash echoed from behind them. He looked back briefly, then at his arm. He shook his head and left without her. The group hesitantly shoved forward with him. Only two or three of the members looked back. An older woman, grabbed Paul’s daughter’s arm and tried to push her forward.

  “Come child! It’s not safe here.” The woman protested, turning back toward the group.

  “It’s not safe anywhere.” Paul’s daughter said, wicked grin growing on her face. She used the blood on the woman’s hands to twist her arm out of the grasp. She then started running in the opposite direction of the group.

  The woman took a hesitant step to run after Paul’s daughter. She then looked back at the main part of the group, already far away. She shook her head and started to run towards the group.

  Paul’s daughter was unsure why an army of zombies were not chasing her.She had no doubt that they would be feasting on her father now. She wasn’t sure why she needed to run back and help them. It was an instinct to try and help family. Her father had always preached about how important family was.

  She stooped down and grabbed a splintered board. It was small enough to act as a smaller spear. She hoped that it would be useful to push away blue brains if they got close. If an infected dinosaur came, the stick she held wouldn’t even make a good toothpick to the beast. However, it was better than having bare hands.

  She came to broken down building and took a moment of rest underneath a part that hadn’t collapsed. It was probably not the smartest move, but cover was important. She heard a man walking up to her. She was going to greet him and ask him to help retrieve her father. However, the steps against the ground seemed too calm. In so much chaos and destruction, if this was really someone who could help, they would be running.

  ‘Perhaps they are under shock?’ She thought. She knew that this was a possibility. It was also possible that this was a lost zombie. She rested in the shelter and watched. She soon saw the shape of a bearded man with many wounds. What tipped her off the most was that the wounds were not bleeding. Having your skin ripped off caused ruptures and blood in all but one creature. This thing was a zombie.

  She watched the blue brain for a moment, trying to decipher the motive. The thing didn’t appear lost. She expected lost zombies to still have an air of frantic hunger. This one didn’t have that appearance. Instead, it walked slowly and confidently. It picked up several boards and pushed them over. It studied tracks from the main group and inhaled deeply.

  A chill ran up her spine at the thing. This was not expected. What did a calm zombie mean? Would she be able to bargain with it? Could it be reasoned with? Or was that frantic hunger just buried deeper within?

  She inhaled deeply. She knew there would be no blood to her face. She decided to try the lost little girl routine. Perhaps this would help motivate the thing. She thought of never knowing her mother. She thought of her father probably dieing. She thought of her home being destroyed. She brought every dark and destructive thought to mind to make herself cry. When she felt the tears ran down far enough on her cheeks, she walked out in the middle of the road. She was quiet and put the stick gently on the ground near her feet. That would be her plan B.

  As the stick landed on the ground the calm zombie turned around quickly. She made a large sobbing noise can covered her face, excluding one eye. She hoped the sound would be enough to disguise the stick she just set down.

  “Help me!” she pleaded with the calm zombie. She moved her hands away from her face and gave the calm blue brain her most innocent face.

  The creature tilted its head and then licked its lips. It then started toward her in a darting motion.

  She realized the idea of a zombie helping her was not the best of plans. She twisted down and fell on the stick she had just placed down. She brought it up to spear the zombie in the gut. The zombie looked surprised and twisted away. It then batted the piece of wood out of her hands.

  She took a step back, tears gone. She smiled widely with her pale face. The zombie took a step back and looked at her in fascination.

  “Alpha Pup?” the zombie breathed out.

  Paul’s daughter shook her head and met the zombie’s fascination gaze with her own. A zombie that could talk? A zombie that was calm? Everything she had known had flipped upside down.

  The walked around each other in a circle, each watching the other. It was as if each were a book looking to decipher the other’s content. Perhaps they could determine the nature of the other. The uneasy truce only lasted a moment. A zombie was still a killing machine. It lurched forward as if Paul’s daughter would be easy prey.

  She pulled her arms out of her coat so it would come off quickly. As the zombie grasped the coat, she stepped into the grasp. The blue brain went to bite where she was. Its grasp of the coat did equate to a grasp of her though. She was within the zombies personal space. Normally it was not the wisest of options, to be within a zombie’s bite. She didn’t care.

  If this zombie was something new, she wondered how many rules would apply. She jumped through the zombies legs, falling underneath it. She then kicked hard against the zombie’s crotch. It reacted with a type of pain response. It was a muted pain response, but it was still something.

  The zombie, coat still in hand, grabbed the other side of the jacket. It had one hand on each side of the jacket. It twisted down and tried to net Paul’s daughter with her own coat. It then used its weight to pin the girl and attempt to bite her. The zombie
tried several times, its mouth not making purchase as she shifted her head left and right.

  Paul’s daughter then kicked at the creatures feet, changing its balance. The shift in balance meant one hand was not firmly on the ground anymore. Paul’s daughter rolled that direction and left the coat. She popped up off the ground as quickly as possible. It was not smart to stay on the ground around a zombie.

  The zombie got up quickly and threw the coat at her. She stepped back several steps and avoided it easily. The blue brain darted for her again. Without weapons, Paul’s daughter began to run away. Perhaps she could pick something up along the way.

  The building she had been hiding in originally looked like it was about to fall over. It tipped and dust and debris fell off the rearmaments of the walls. Paul’s daughter darted through the building, hoping for two things. The first was that the building wouldn’t collapse on her. The second was that zombie would dart in here with her. Her smile continued as she thought of the idea of inviting the zombie indoors. A small giggle bubbled out of her lips. The zombie darted into the building, mouth open and ready to consume.