Four (Their Dead Lives,1)

by Scott, Zack

  Cloak hopped over the wailing cars, a black wave fluttering through the dark, and soon reached the other side of the street. Kale followed until he paused by a fire escape. Cloak wanted him to climb, then vanished around the corner of the building with Nicole.

  The young Embracer did as directed, watching Cloak enter through the front entrance. His ascent was quick and his mind wandered with blazing thoughts. Everything that led him to this point was of meaningful purpose, he knew. The well, his friends ditching their destiny, his kidnapping off the yacht, and last, his transformation into the villain they needed. This was all fate’s doing and anything that happened from there on out, to Kale, was fulfillment of his destiny. He thought about all those moments him and his friends had spent together.

  Wasted potential.

  Means to an end. He knew he deserved this new power given to him, even if it wasn’t for good. Kale even sympathized with the Eradicator’s mission to destroy the human race. No turning back, only killing forward, this world would be his playground and he couldn’t wait. All he had to do was destroy the last two people who posed a threat to him.

  Below him, undead corpses wandered without aim, for there were no living meals in sight. But soon the clamor of the car alarms attracted them. Men, women, and children, once living beings, now damned to a ravenous state of suspended death. Some would take a quick strike at one another, only to realize it was not the correct meat, the sole thing they desired. Those weak from starvation crawled along asphalt. The ones that had recently fed moved quickly. A number of them sprinted at full speed. A few tumbled over with careless footing. But no matter what condition or what shape the undead were in, they all had the same goal: Devour the living.

  Kale climbed. He climbed for power. He climbed for revenge. He climbed for his soon-to-be kingdom.

  As alarms echoed through the streets—

  As lights flashed beneath the night sky—

  As his teeth clenched, reaching the helicopter—

  Kale felt nearly complete. Killing Alec was the beginning. Jeff and Scot were next.

  He lusted for their blood.

  JEFF

  He waited in the apartment complex lobby with Pvt. Malone, staring at the clinic. Please be in there still.

  “You know that was bullshit, right?” Malone lay in the prone position, hovering over his M240 machine gun.

  “What was?” Jeff was crouched by the glass door with his carbine.

  “Arm wrestling back at Numark. You got lucky.” Malone’s hulking ripped arms stuck out his torn off sleeves.

  Jeff shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  “No.” He lifted his head. “I say so.”

  A light quickly flashed twice from the clinic. “Moving in.”

  Jeff went first. Malone followed, much slower with his heavier machine gun. They were the two biggest members of the VTF. Although Jeff respected the man, he found Mercury Malone to be an asshole.

  When they reached the clinic, they greeted Sgt. Slinger who had covered them from in the waiting room.

  Jeff’s world slowed as he stared at the massacred deputy on the floor. “Jimmy...”

  “You knew him?” Slinger asked.

  “Same high school.” Jeff knelt by the body. A glass bottle had beaten Miller’s face into an unrecognizable pulp. Jimmy’s heart lay wetly by his hollowed-out chest. His eyes were missing. Who could do something like this? He stood as Evans entered the waiting room.

  “Alec? Nicole? Dylan?”

  Evans grabbed Jeff. “Dylan is dead. Alec and Nicole are gone.”

  An illness filled his words, “What happened?”

  “Kale,” Evans said, possessed with an emotionless stare.

  The illness in Jeff exploded. He had to sit down to cope with this news. “What?”

  “Dylan lasted long enough to tell us. Kale killed him. He killed the deputy. He took your friends.”

  No. How? Why? Jeff stood. “Are you sure?”

  “Jeff, my dying uncle lived long enough to tell me. I’m sure.”

  Jeff lowered his carbine. “I’m sorry, I just— Kale? He’s not a killer. He’s a good person.”

  I should’ve been here. I should have saved him.

  “No, Brennan. He was a good person. Not anymore.” The specialist went for the glass doors. “Let’s get back to the helicopter, back to Numark. We’re done here.”

  “Agreed,” said Slinger. The three VTF members stepped to the street.

  Jeff stayed frozen in shock. Did Kale turn? Did he become one of them? He knew he could save Kale, just needed to find his friend and talk sense into him.

  “Brennan, let’s move.” Slinger’s order was sharp.

  The first alarm struck through the night. A second. Jeff turned to the street, stepping over Jimmy. A third. A fourth.

  Malone raised his machine gun. “The hell is happening?”

  Jeff turned for the exam room. “I’ll meet you guys up there. I need to see if there’s any sign of Alec.”

  “Brennan, get back here! That’s an order.” Slinger followed after him.

  Orders are for Evans. Jeff kicked an exam room door open. Blood stained the walls, bed, and counter. A scalpel. He raised it. Kale or Alec’s blood?

  “Jeff, we need to move!” Evans was in the waiting room.

  Then the machine gun unleashed. Malone roared over his blazing bullets, “Cum, dumping, ZOMBIES!” Waves of rotting flesh stampeded for the shattered glass entrance of the clinic, only to be ripped apart by Malone.

  Slinger turned, standing at his side, yelling over the firepower. “Find us a way to the roof!”

  Jeff did as told while the others held the rush of zombies back. He climbed through the exam room window, landing softly on grass. A wall of brush stood before him. At his side, a dumpster, perfect to climb upon. He swung his carbine around his back and went to push it to the lowest part of the roof.

  A ready-to-barf moan belched into his ear. Tiny eyes. Sharp hair stuck from its flopping cheeks. A big belly hung from under its shirt, bouncing with every step. Both arms snagged Jeff’s shoulders, and its mouth stretched wide, large enough to consume his entire face. He kicked out of its grasp and spun behind it. Before he could swing his carbine off his back, a child flew into his legs. Teeth ripped his black pants open, barely missing flesh. He smacked one hand at the kid’s face, knocking it to the ground. The kid looked like a mini Justin Bieber.

  Fatty struck for him again, saliva spilling off its moldy lips. Jeff ducked, swung up, and kicked Fatty’s head, causing it to stumble. Then it fell. The zombie Bieber let out a shriek before Fatty smashed down on it. Blood and flesh splattered across grass.

  Fatty rose, zombie Bieber’s insides sticking to its belly.

  Jeff aimed his carbine at its head. “Goodbye, ugly.”

  The roof was at its lowest where Fatty and zombie kid had mushed as one, so Jeff returned to the dumpster and dragged.

  Then they came.

  Sprinters flooded around the side of the clinic. Five. He took careful shots at the closest, never missing. The last two blazed on him before he had a chance to aim. His carbine nailed one in the chest and he shoved the other back with his free hand. Soon, they both had him, pushing him into a wall of brush as they tried to rip his flesh open. Both his hands pressed against their decayed necks. He had lost his carbine. Their jaws stretched wide, lunging for his face. I made it this far without a bite! He tried to grab his carbine but there was no way of reaching it. The scalpel. He rushed a hand away from one of the zombies, letting it strike down for his skin, but before it could bite, he jammed the scalpel through its skull. He shoved the other zombie off and its head exploded, misting Jeff with blood.

  Behind the now headless zombie, Evans winked, holding his smoking carbine. “Miss me?”

  “I was about to do my scalpel throw!” Jeff kicked the corpse off his feet, snagged his gun, and smiled. “Cover me while I move the dumpster.”

  “You got it.” Evans moved to the brush, ge
tting a wider aim at the clinic’s sides.

  Jeff dragged the dumpster, listening to the sound of machine gun fire coming from the front of the clinic. Another minute, Malone. Evans fired off a few rounds. But Jeff kept dragging, arms straining. He guessed it weighed around 300 pounds. With clenched lips, he gave his hardest pull.

  The machine gun died. Through the exam room window, he saw Slinger and Malone retreating. He still had a few yards to reach the lowest part of the roof. Slinger flung outside first.

  Malone paused at the window and dropped his machine gun outside. Spinning while releasing two pistols from their holsters, sweat splashed off his shaved head. “Come on, mommas!”

  Slinger helped Jeff. “Brennan, how are you moving this alone?”

  Long story.

  They reached the spot to climb. Evans kept the horde off one side of the clinic. The other side was empty.

  “Mercury, get out of there!” Slinger clambered on the dumpster first. She helped Jeff on and he heaved her to the roof. Evans side-stepped to them, firing.

  Malone jumped out of the window. He grabbed the machine gun and roared as he threw it toward the roof.

  Jeff caught it. “Come on!”

  Evans climbed the dumpster next, right as a swirling force struck it. He flew off, landing onto grass, losing his carbine. Twirling on the ground, he equipped his pistol and shot at a Spanish woman. Another Embracer?

  The Embracer flew over Evans, hand slashing at his neck. He dropped his pistol, grabbing his throat.

  “Jon!” cried Slinger. She fired at the creature, and it vanished into the night.

  Evans released his hand, holstering his pistol and lifting his carbine. “A scratch.”

  “Get up there, Jonny,” Malone growled, firing pistols in every direction as his ballet with the dead continued. Slinger and Jeff helped cover them from the roof.

  The helicopter whirred in close.

  Evans climbed, blew a few heads open while on the dumpster, then leapt to Jeff’s arms. His legs kicked until he stood next to them.

  Below, Malone made his way to the dumpster, dropping clips and swinging two more into his guns. He looked like an action hero. But action heroes weren’t real, especially when fifty zombies were swarming from every direction. Three went down before Malone threw his body on the dumpster. Teeth sank into his arms, his legs, and his back. He kicked and fought, nailing one in the face. He shoved off a woman after her teeth broke his skull.

  The VTF kept shooting, trying to save him. He pulled a grenade off his vest while being dragged down to grass. It never exploded, a dud, his body never seen again.

  Zombies clambered for the roof, some using the dumpster. The helicopter lowered and Jeff and Evans pulled back from the edge. Slinger remained, unleashing her SMG.

  “He’s gone, Chelsea,” said Evans. She ignored him.

  “Sarge, let’s go!” Jeff moved for her but Evans stopped him.

  Slinger backed, huffing, “Damn you, Malone!” She made her way to the helicopter.

  The female Embracer rose to the roof so quickly, Slinger seemed to run in slow motion.

  “Look out!” Evans knelt, raising his carbine.

  Slinger spun. The Embracer swung a glass shard at her face. Two bullets flew over Jeff, both hitting the Embracer.

  With his hand stretched out, Addison hung from the helicopter, holding Eddie’s massive Desert Eagle. His tie flapped around his face as he yelled, “Eat it, snatch!” He kept firing until either the Embracer was blasted off the roof, or she decided to flee on her own.

  Evans helped the unscathed Slinger to her feet and Jeff pushed them both to the helicopter. He climbed in last.

  Along with Addison and the pilot Eddie, only Kelsey was inside their escape boat. “Where’s Scot?”

  “He—”

  “We’re losing fuel fast,” Eddie yelled as the helicopter ascended from the swarmed clinic. “Something hit us.”

  “Where’s Scot?” Jeff knelt to Kelsey’s legs.

  “He’s on the roof, he— Kale.”

  Jeff stood straight. “Get me back there!”

  “I have to swing us to Numark. Now!”

  Evans, leaning out of the helicopter, said, “Why is there a spear in our goddamn fuel tank?”

  “Give me twenty more feet,” Jeff said to Eddie, staring at the roof of the apartment complex.

  On the floor of the cabin, Evans grabbed Jeff’s leg. “Please don’t be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

  “Eddie, do it!”

  There was no time to wait as Jeff witnessed the battle escalating across the roof.

  Close enough.

  SCOT

  Kelsey’s head rested on his shoulder as they sat in the helicopter, waiting. Addison lay across from them.

  I hope there’s privacy at this Camp Numark. I need her again. I want her—

  Gunfire ripped through the night from below. Along with the others, Scot rushed out of the helicopter and stared off the complex’s roof, realizing he was an idiot for thinking they were safe.

  A zombie horde flooded to the clinic. Bright flashes ignited from its entrance.

  Eddie climbed into the cockpit saying, “Let’s go.”

  They all got back in the helicopter but Scot froze as he stared out the cabin door.

  Kale. On the roof. With one and a half arms. What the?

  “Hello, Scotty,” he said with that devilish grin of his. “Come out here and play.”

  Helicopter blades rapidly whirred above and Scot yelled with a smile, “I’m leaving.” For good measure, Scot leaned out the helicopter as it began to lift, staring Kale down. “You look even prettier now!” He laughed, but it was cut short by the striking black cloak.

  And although the Embracer crashed like black lightning, time froze for Scot. He’d believed he would never see that grey face and beard or those dark eyes and soulless stare again. He’d tricked his mind into accepting his luck. His safety. That well from during high school still haunted him; it always would, but all his nightmares came to fruition in seconds.

  The Embracer pounced off the roof, flying to the helicopter. A steel spear impaled Scot’s shoulder, sending him to the floor. He slid toward the open doorway but Kelsey caught him in time.

  The spear slashed out of his flesh, and the Embracer looked ready to gut Scot from head to toe.

  You were never going to let me go.

  Addison rushed at the black cloak, trying to pin the spear back. It shot forward, missing Eddie’s head. The pilot turned, unholstered a gigantic silver pistol, and handed it to the passengers.

  Scot grabbed his wound as Kelsey stepped over him, retrieving the handgun. She aimed at the Embracer as the spear struck for Addison’s face, nicking his cheek.

  “Shoot it,” Addison cried.

  Kelsey fired. The bullet ripped the cloak open, almost knocking the Embracer out of the helicopter. The blowback, which she was not ready for, hit her in the face. She dropped the pistol and stumbled to the doorway. Scot grabbed her before she fell, pushed her onto a seat, yanked the door shut, flipped around, and went for the pistol, but the Embracer grabbed him first.

  Weightless, he spun into the night. Falling and falling. And somehow, he landed in Kale’s arms. Once more, he grinned at Scot. “Hello again.”

  With his fear of heights, and after falling so far, Scot let the words slip from his mouth, “I think I shit myself.”

  Another blast from the helicopter.

  The black cloak fell, along with the spear. But the steel shot back for the helicopter, impaling the fuel tank. The Embracer disappeared below.

  Kale dropped Scot and his chin hit the roof.

  “You dick.” He coughed and rolled, staring at the helicopter as it went for the clinic. “Kelsey,” he reached.

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure Cloak took care of her.”

  “Cloak? You named that fucking thing?”

  “Yes, now get up. We need to chat.”

  Scot stood, touchin
g his bleeding shoulder. “I’ve been stabbed, bit, shot, and pushed around far too many times lately.”

  “And yet you’re still here.” Kale circled around him. “Do you know why?”

  “Obviously you were right all along. And you know what?” He looked at his bloody fingers.

  “What?”

  “Blow me.”

  Kale lightly laughed. “You do like a good mouth.”

  “Ugh, not yours. And why the hell do you look like a mutated beast?”

  “Fate has brought me this far, Scot. Something you will never understand.”

  Scot snorted. “What I understand is that you’re an idiot. And will you quit circling around me, you creepy bastard?”

  “No!” At Kale’s shout, a blade ejected from his stub and he swung it at Scot, but he was too far to connect.

  “Holy shit balls!” Scot fell to the floor before kicking his way to a stance. He leapt a few more times to get farther from Kale. “Fate has played a joke on you, man.”

  A gargling growl broke from his lips. “I hate you, you know that?”

  “You didn’t always.”

  Kale shrugged. “No matter now. You die tonight.”

  “By you? Ha!” Scot clenched a fist. “I’m too quick for you, you fat fuck.” Before Scot could react, Kale flashed to him, grabbing his throat and lifting him in the air.

  “What were you saying?”

  I instantly regret saying that. He stared into Kale’s possessed, dark eyes. “They turned you...holy shit, Kale.”

  “I’ve never felt better.” The grip tightened.

  “Go ahead and kill me,” Scot choked. “You’ve always wanted to. That’s why you stabbed me back in high school.”

  Loosening his grip, Kale decided to drop Scot. “No. I stabbed you in high school so you would realize your full potential.”