Samurai Zombie Hunter

by Cristian YoungMiller

  “Do we know anything about these two?” Robert asked while staring at a still image of Van.

  “If we did, their activities would have popped up before now.”

  “We need to know more about them. How is our organization in Los Angeles?” Robert inquired, turning back to Drew.

  “It’s large but not very active. Donations are strong though,” Drew summarized.

  “See if they can find us somewhere to stay. Make it close to where these two operate. And tell them we’re coming down.”

  Van sat on his couch watching TV in only his samurai loin cloth; with his mind focused on nothing he didn’t move much. He hadn’t been moving much ever since talking to Britta at the club, and when his phone rang with Kofi’s ringtone, that didn’t change.

  Since hearing the news about his disease, he’d remained amazingly calm. Van had conjured up a denial that allowed him to continue on like nothing had changed. But a recent camera appearance that he had done for a local news station had set him into a downward spiral.

  It was while he stood behind Kofi, staring at the camera, that he realized just how much of a lie he was living. Before, Van was able to hide behind the idea that he was making the world better when he hunted zombies. He allowed himself to believe that he was a good person. Now he could not.

  Now he realized that he was the animal that he was hunting. And what made him worse than the other animals was that his skills mixed in with his zombie strength made him unstoppable. And whereas other zombies could find justice at the end of his sword, no such justice could ever come to him. With sword in hand, he was practically invincible.

  He continued to stare at the TV as the images flickered by. And change came when there was a knock on the door.

  “I know you’re in there Van. I heard your phone ring. Open the door,” Kofi yelled from outside.

  When Van didn’t move, Kofi banged harder.

  “Van? Open the door Van. I know you’re in there.”

  Van didn’t move.

  “Van, I’ll break the door down if I have to.”

  Kofi jiggled on the knob and the door popped open. Kofi wasn’t quick to enter considering that he didn’t know what he would find. But, spotting Van motionless on the couch, he decided to risk it.

  “You don’t lock your door, man?” Kofi asked, trying to get the stone-faced Van to look at him.

  Van continued to stare at the screen but moved his hand to bend back the edge of the cushion next to him. The bend revealed a samurai sword. It wasn’t the one he took to assignments, but it was good enough to get the job done.

  “Oh,” Kofi said, staring at the hidden sword. “Creepy.”

  Kofi circled the place looking for signs that indicated Van’s state of mind. “So where ya been, man?” Kofi asked, not finding anything out of place. “You know the phone’s been on fire since we did that news story. I had to raise our prices - $1,500 a head. Nobody’s even flinched at the change.”

  Kofi turned to Van who was still transfixed on the screen.

  “Not gonna answer… like the phone. That’s fine.”

  Kofi put himself between Van and the TV. “You know we have a business here, right? Now that it’s public, you know some wannabe zombie hunter is gonna post an ad and there you go, competition.”

  “They’ll die,” Van said breaking his silence. “You ever wonder how it is that I stay alive?”

  “It’s because you’re good, man. You don’t have to tell me. What, is this about money? We raised the price. You’re gonna be making more.”

  Kofi stared at Van hoping for some type of response. “Is it that you want a bigger cut? I work too ya know. You just go and do what you do and your money just ends up in your account. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  Kofi looked around at the room again. “And by the way, why don’t you spend some of that money. Go buy something with it. Treat yourself. You earned it. But whatever you do, we need you back at work. We were the first ones to come up with the idea so we have the advantage. But if we get the reputation of taking people’s money and not delivering, people are gonna start goin’ to someone else.”

  Van looked up at Kofi disgusted. “It’s not about the money,” he snapped.

  “Then what then? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what it is. You want fewer assignments? Just tell me what you want.”

  “I want you to go with me.”

  “Is that it?” Kofi asked. “Of course I’ll go with you. I only stopped going because I didn’t wanna be in the way. But yeah I’ll come. You wanna go now? I have my sword in the car. We could go right now.”

  “How many?” Van asked, feeling his heart sink a little.

  “Four. That’s nothing for you. And I already asked all of the regular questions. It’s three guys and a girl. Before they became zombies they all worked in a bank so these should be easy kills. It's the perfect assignment to get back into the swing of things. They attacked a group of kids walking home from school. It’s a good kill, Van. I know how you care about stuff like that.”

  “What part of town?” Van asked, trying to summon the will to move.

  “Downtown. But don’t worry, I’m goin’ - I’ll drive. You just have to worry about swinging that sword.”

  Van looked up at the ceiling and then across the room at his sword. “Ok.”

  Kofi pulled the car to the end of Naud Street. Both Kofi and Van looked around at the buildings and took note of the graffiti. There was a lot of it.

  A few feet ahead, the pavement stopped, and shortly after the road dead-ended at a mound. The mound was there to prevent cars from ending up in the river. The Los Angeles River was deceptively-named because, except for the small stream of water flowing pitifully down the very center of the concrete aqueduct, there was no way to identify it as a river.

  “Are you sure this isn’t some sort of trap or something?” Van asked, hesitant to get out of the car.

  “Yeah. I think the guy who hired us owns a seafood market somewhere around here. He says the zombies are keeping the customers away,” Kofi explained.

  “I thought you said they snatched someone from the park?” Van asked suspiciously.

  “Supposedly there’s some sort of park or gym or something nearby.”

  “This doesn’t look like a place that would have a park,” Van said with doubt.

  “Look, I’m just telling you what he told me. He’s already paid, so the money’s good. Who cares if they took some kids from the park or not? We’re paid and they’re zombies; enough said.”

  Van looked at Kofi, displeased with his attitude. “Where are they supposed to be?”

  “They hang out under the bridge in the riverbed,” Kofi said casually.

  “Are you kidding me? Are you trying to get killed tonight?” Van asked mockingly.

  “What? There are two of us, four of them and we have the element of surprise. Easy.”

  Van turned away from Kofi’s smiling face with disgust. Van hated the easygoing attitude Kofi had about killing zombies. It was then that he came up with a way to make it stop.

  Van got out of the car with sword in hand. In spite of the location, Van thought it best to wear his full samurai attire. Even if the zombies here didn’t expect professionalism from their killer, Van needed that professionalism to justify the slayings to himself.

  With Kofi following, Van climbed the mound at the end of the road and descended to the top of the declining concrete walls of the river. Kofi caught up to Van and both men stared at the bridges at Spring Street and further down at Broadway. All of the bridges had a golden tint to them from the setting sun and Van couldn’t help but notice the beauty.

  “You know there are probably a hundred zombies down there, right?” Van asked casually.

  Kofi didn’t answer, but Van could hear him swallow.

  “But we just need four, right?” Van asked.

  “Yeah, he said that they hang out under the Spring Street Bridge.”

  “
So right over there,” Van said, looking a hundred yards north. “You ready?”

  “I got your back,” Kofi said confidently.

  “I didn’t ask you if you got my back. I asked you if you were ready to kill some zombies.”

  Kofi looked up at Van with his mouth open. “Yeah, I’m ready for whatever, man,” Kofi said meekly.

  “Then hide your sword and let’s go.”

  With an inverted grip, Van pointed the blade of his sword upward and held it against the back of his arm. He then balanced himself as he stepped sideways down the sharp concrete decline. At the bottom, Van led the way upstream.

  The dry bed against their shoes echoed off the walls. And when both men were 50 yards from the bridge, heads popped up within the metal supports underneath.

  “There they are,” Van pointed out. “We’re just gonna get a little closer and then we’re gonna let them come to us.”

  Van stopped at a distance 30 feet away from where the zombies hid. Kofi stopped behind Van but, after a quick look back, Van signaled him to come and stand by his side. Kofi hesitantly complied.

  After a few minutes of silently staring, the zombies whispered to each other. Each took its turn looking back at the strangers in their territory but, unusually, the strangers didn’t move.

  The biggest and strongest of the four was the one to eventually get up. As he stepped closer, the tattoos over his body didn’t hint to a past life as a banker. Van took a quick peek over at Kofi. Kofi didn’t seem surprised. ‘He lied,’ was Van’s only thought.

  The big zombie was about Van’s height and outweighed Van by fifty pounds. The big zombie didn’t walk upright toward Van and Kofi. Instead he approached the two in a slight crouch. Van determined the crouch was so he could chase the two down if he or Kofi decided to run. Van had no intention of running. If the big zombie knew that, he might have lived longer.

  Ten feet away from Van, the zombie slowed down. He took a closer look at Van and wondered why neither of them seemed scared. The zombie’s question was soon answered when Van spun his sword from behind his arm and smiled. The zombie took a moment to decide whether he should attack or run. He chose poorly.

  The zombie lurched forward at Van as Kofi stepped back. Van thrust his sword and, with its tip, caught the zombie in the soft spot underneath his chin. The sword poked through the zombie’s tongue and stunned the creature. Not sure of what to do, the zombie stared blankly at Van like a head on a spike. The zombie then pulled away, grabbed his chin and lost his mind.

  In a delusional rage, the zombie attacked Van again; all Van had time to do was slash him across the chest. That slash didn’t even slow down the creature and in a second the full weight of the zombie sent Van tumbling to the ground. Van was startled.

  The zombie, now enraged, reached down, grabbed Van’s leg and pulled Van toward it. Van responded by using his hands to flip himself onto his chest and then using his free foot to dislocate the zombie’s jaw. Van found that his zombie strength was almost equal to the creature’s. In the face of equal physical strength, the samurai knew he had the advantage.

  The zombie let go of Van’s leg and rocked back a yard. Van then took a tighter grip of his sword, rolled onto his side and transferred this weight onto his feet. Then with the monstrous creature charging him again, Van swung his sword at its ankles.

  With the force of the swipe, the zombie’s foot flung off and the zombie’s next step connected bare bone to concrete. On contact, the zombie screamed and toppled onto his side. Van quickly got to his feet and stood over the squirming zombie’s head.

  “You weren’t even close,” he said to creature below him.

  He lifted his sword high into the air and chopped. The creature’s head rolled away from its body which went completely limp.

  With the light diminishing, Van turned his attention to the other three zombies hiding in the underpinnings of the bridge. The three had closely watched as the strongest amongst them fell quickly to the samurai. And now, with the samurai’s eyes locked on them, they could think of nothing else to do but run.

  The three zombies threw themselves down to the concrete riverbed. All of them scattered in different directions.

  “Kofi, you get that one,” Van said, pointing at the smallest and slowest of the group.

  Van took off after the two males in front of him. One had chosen to run directly ahead and the other to scale the inclining wall. Van went after the scaling zombie first.

  Running with his sword pointing behind him Van ran up the wall like it was a level surface. Unlike those in front of him, Van’s zombie infection had also made Van faster. Within seconds, Van was close enough to take a swing at the scaling one. The swipe, which had connected with its calf, wasn’t enough to stop the creature but enough to slow it down and make its death inevitable.

  On the level surface above the river, the zombie found a disregarded piece of two by four and made its last stand. With wood in hand, the zombie launched itself forward and connected with Van’s sword. Van bumped the wood aside.

  Doing its best to recover, the zombie pulled the wood back and again swung forward. Van, shifting his weight, stopped the blow with his sword and spun 360 degrees in the opposite direction. The slice landed on the zombie’s neck but, before its head had even hit the ground, Van had changed direction toward the zombie escaping down the ravine.

  Running along the concrete riverbank, Van caught up with zombie below. Searching for the quickest way down, Van spotted a metal barrel that looked like an oil drum. Veering toward, it he readied the back of his sword. With the blunt end of his steel he popped the lid, knocked it forward and jumped on it as it slid down the wall of the ravine.

  Sparks flew as the rough concrete raked the lid’s surface. And with the residue of oil still on the metal, the lid caught fire. Crouched as he was with his sword cocked back, Van looked like a demon samurai from hell.

  Passing the zombie at the end of the decline, Van swung his sword at the creature, knocking it to the ground. With the creature rolling on its side, Van stepped off of the lid, letting the flaming metal continue to the water-filled channel at the center of the concrete ravine.

  The zombie now rolled onto its feet and continued running. But with Van already on top of it, it didn’t get far before Van’s powerful strike across its back pushed it to the ground again.

  Now on its hands and knees crawling away, Van placed his foot on the zombie’s back, took aim as with a golf swing and swung for the green. When the zombie’s head took flight it sliced to the right. ‘Damn,’ Van thought. ‘I’ll take the mulligan.’

  “Ahhh!” a female voice screamed from somewhere behind him. “Help me,” it screamed again.

  Van turned around and squinted through the diminishing light for the source of the shriek. He spotted Kofi standing over the female zombie with his sword drawn.

  “I got it,” Kofi yelled. “Van, I got it.”

  Van ran back to Kofi who had the female zombie trapped with its back against the incline of the wall.

  “Van, I got it for you. I trapped it. It’s all yours,” Kofi said excitedly.

  Van looked at the short Greek man standing over the trembling zombie and relaxed his sword. “You’ve never killed a zombie before, have you?” Van asked calmly.

  “What do you mean?” Kofi replied, not knowing how else to respond.

  “I mean that you’ve handed me a lot of assignments but you’ve never actually been the one to look a zombie in the eye and swing your sword, have you?”

  Van looked on as Kofi’s sword began to shake.

  “This kill is yours,” Van said, backing away.

  “Help! Someone, please help,” the zombie screamed again.

  “Oh, and I suggest you do it quickly before she starts to seem too human to kill… and before her buddies hear her.”

  On that, the woman began to beg. “Please don’t kill me. I’m not a zombie. I don’t know why I’m here. I’m not a zombie at all.”

 
; “Shut up!” Kofi yelled, feeling a pressure come on.

  “Please don’t kill me. I wanna live. I promise I won’t do anything bad again. I’m so sorry. I’m human. I want to live!”

  “Do it, Kofi!” Van yelled, beginning to feel moved by her pleas.

  Kofi raised his sword and let out a primal scream. He lunged forward and swung. The sword caught the female on her clavicle, snapping the bone with a crack spurting bright red blood onto Kofi. The zombie screamed in pain.

  Frazzled, Kofi pulled back his sword and swung again. This strike caught the zombie in the face. Red eased down the zombie’s cheek and mouth.

  Van, unable to control himself, felt enraged at Kofi’s lack of precision. ‘To thine enemies be true’ was the phrase engraved onto the side of his sword – it was the motto he worked by. What Kofi was doing was the opposite of that phrase. What Kofi was doing was barbaric.

  “Concentrate!” Van yelled.

  Kofi caught himself. Blocking out the screams of the zombie below him, he focused on the zombie’s neck. Tears rolled down his face as he lifted his weapon and powered it home. The blade didn’t make it all the way through the muscular body part, but it accomplished its goal. The zombie stopped screaming, stopped squirming, and died.

  Kofi backed away from the dead body before him. Allowing the tears to flow freely, he turned to his friend who gave him no sympathy. Van’s icy stare hardened, partly because he hated having to watch Kofi butcher his victim and partly to allow his friend the full effect of killing another living creature.