Dead Bones - Six Pack. The Ultimate Zombie Collection

by Ian Woodhead

  Her eyes had taken on a lustful glaze and she had begun grinding her hips against him. Ernest was edging towards hysteria, wondering if he had made the wrong decision in trusting Zara.

  "Do you want to know just what is really making me wet? It’s that deep panic I feel building up inside you.” She straddled his thigh, grinding her crotch against him as a low guttural growl came from deep in her throat.

  Zara released him; she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “Fucking hell, “she gasped.

  Ernest tripped over one of the corpses in his haste to get clear of her reach and fell against the side of a car. She looked at him with an ironic sadness in her eyes. The bloodlust had disappeared completely.

  “In my previous life, before some foul dead thing bit me, I was a vegan.” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “How ironic is that? I mean, who has ever heard of a vegetarian zombie? Well, I never ate flesh before and despite the insatiable urges rushing through my enhanced body, I have never given in to the temptation.”

  He got to his feet and brushed himself down, unsure of what just happened. Ernest flinched when Zara turned her gaze directly on him.

  “Ernest, be honest. You did not accept me. Even you, with your warped, delusional mind could understand that you had no other choice.”

  He took his eyes off this enigma and watched the other woman disappear into a building. It was just his luck to discover two beautiful women after spending a year alone, only to find they were both off their rocker. Ernest knew Zara would have picked up that stray thought and he just did not care.

  “Poor Aliza, her perception of hunters has already been warped. She doesn’t want contact with anyone. All she wants is to get her daughter back. That is an unfortunate course of action.”

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  “The silly girl has gone in the wrong direction for a start. That shop she’s just run into is crawling with the dead.”

  As if on cue, they hear Aliza's scream echo through the streets.

  “Now, Ernest, we go after her.” Zara sighed as she took a step towards him.

  The unlikely duo rushed over to the infested shop and climbed through the shattered window.

  Ernest cried out in shock at the sight of Aliza surrounded by four corpses, all lurching towards her. The scene looked like some sort of perverted dance troupe performance with Aliza starring as the prima donna.

  Ernest wasted no time. He charged forward, swinging his metal bar. It reverberated in his hands as it caught an old man on the side of the head. A chunk of skin and bone flew off and clattered to the floor. He ducked under the grasping arms of a teenage boy and grabbed Aliza by the waist, pulling her towards a set of steps right behind them.

  Aliza shook him off, obviously wanting to take part in the fight. She bent down and snatched up a brick that lay on the floor, covered in dust. She rammed the chunk of brick against the forehead of a corpse standing on the stairs.

  The pair raced up the stairs. Ernest turned to see Zara surrounded by corpses. His heart leapt in his chest, but she seemed to be having little trouble in dispatching them.

  As he and Aliza made their way upstairs, they spotted the deadie standing at the top of the stairs trying to manoeuvre its way down. As the monster turned, Ernest grabbed hold of its belt and tugged hard, pulling it off its feet. They pressed themselves against the railing and watched it tumble down the stairs. The monster landed in a heap on the floor.

  “Oh fuck!” gasped Aliza, "this floor is full of them.”

  Ernest looked around, panic threatening to intrude on his newfound heroism. He took a deep breath and focused on saving Aliza. Rationality took over again, and he pointed at the escalator on the other side of the floor.

  “Up we go,” he whispered.

  They both sprinted across the showroom and raced up the metal stairs.

  “Looks clear.” Ernest felt his heart screaming at him to slow down.

  He looked around the showroom one more time. He felt a deep longing as he noticed that the place was full of beds. Good god, he had forgotten the last time he had slept on a real bed. His mind involuntarily turned to a vision of Aliza and Zara lying across one of the beds, wearing not much more than pretty smiles. The two women beckoned him to join them with lust in their eyes. The two topless women lay together, their bare breasts exposed, they began to caress each other while they waited for him to join in.

  He shook his head and thought to himself that Zara was right. He was desperate and perverted.

  “Are you okay?” he asked Aliza, still shaking off the vision of her wanting him.

  She then gasped and pointed behind him. The dead from the floor below were following them. Ernest was in disbelief as they attempted to clamber up the stairs.

  Aliza ran over to the windows, looking for any possible way out.

  Ernest looked around the room, desperate to find another door.

  “Fuck, we’re on the top floor, “he said, feeling suddenly useless.

  The things were managing to climb over each other in their urge to feed. It wouldn’t take them long to reach the pair. They were trapped.

  “Oh no!” Aliza moaned. "The tower block is on fire! My baby. Oh God."

  Ernest ran over and instinctively took Aliza into his arms and began stroking her hair.

  "There, there. Everything will be fine. We just need to find our way out of here, right?"

  "Yes. Thank you." She dried her eyes and planted a soft kiss on Ernest's cheek.

  He suddenly felt energized and even more determined to save this girl and her baby. He felt ready to break the window and fly out to safety with his cape blowing in the wind. The reality was that they had to get out of there. He looked down and almost cried when he saw the building was smooth all the way down. There was no ledge, no bricks, nothing they could use to escape.

  Ernest grabbed his weapon as he watched the dead things clamber over themselves trying to climb the escalator. He turned to look at Aliza. Her eyes were still wet with tears.

  "I'll hold them off. Break a window and climb out…whatever you have to do. I'll be right behind you," he lied.

  Ernest watched as a body made its way to the top of the pile. The dark haired corpse shambled over the others to make its way into the room. Suddenly, the deadie stood up and jumped down to the floor with an uncharacteristic agility. He moved towards the monster with his weapon raised, ready to attack. She looked up at him, smiling.

  "Zara! Thank God!" he cried out, again feeling like weeping.

  Zara gave him another sly smile and turned back towards the pile of dead things. Ernest took his eyes off Zara in order to check on Aliza. She was looking out of the window, trying to find an escape. She turned to look at Ernest pleadingly.

  Her jaw dropped as she scanned the room behind him.

  "I should have remembered the beds."

  "What?" he asked as he looked back to see dozens of dead crawling out from under the mattresses.

  "Fuck me," Ernest whispered.

  Zara continued to hold the dead at bay, dispatching any monster that managed to make their way over the pile and into the showroom. Ernest indicated to her with a motion that there was a new hoard of dead behind her now.

  She pointed to a door that lead to the storeroom.

  "There is a fire escape outside the back window. Get out of here, now." Zara yelled as she planted a kick directly to the sternum of a dead waitress. She grabbed the dead woman's head and twisted. The head separated completely from her shoulders, and the body clothed in a pink vest with a nametag that read 'Emily', fell to the floor at Zara's feet. Zara turned to look at Ernest one more time.

  "Get the fuck out of here!" she shouted in the same guttural growl that he had heard when she had rubbed her body against his.

  Ernest grabbed Aliza's arm and pulled her towards the storeroom as they watched the dead engulf Zara. This was the second time that Ernest was leaving Zara for dead. Images of the football that he had
believed were his son flashed through his mind.

  He and Aliza climb out of the storeroom window onto the fire escape. The smell of smoke coming from the tower block made their lungs burn and their eyes water.

  Ernest started down the steps, but Aliza pulled him back.

  "Wait." She went back and closed the window that they had used to exit the building. "That might buy us a minute or two. The fuckers haven't learned to open windows yet."

  As she moved to rejoin Ernest, the window suddenly shattered outward in a spray of broken glass.

  Zara rolled out, entangled with two deadies. With one flinging motion, she threw the two off the edge of the fire escape to the tarmac below. She stood up and limped towards her two companions.

  "We need to move, now." Ernest watched Aliza nod and fall in line behind Zara.

  It seemed that they might have a chance being a happy little family after all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mark leaned back against the wall. He closed his eyes and attempted to calm his ragged breathing. He squeezed his fist tight, feeling the nails dig into the palms, hoping the pain would distract him and give him something else to focus on.

  “What am I doing? Nigel was right; I should have left with him. Talk about being naïve.”

  He had thought his task would be so easy; they would have to listen to him. He knew everyone in this tower block had managed to live through their own personal nightmares. Their sense of danger would be heightened to the point of paranoia. Mark’s plan had been simple, to find as many people as he could, tell them to pass the word, and then get the hell out of there.

  The first couple he had encountered was a dark haired man in his late thirties. Mark had seen him a few times before but did not have a clue what he was called. By his side was an older woman, somewhere around fifty. Mark had never seen the woman before. They had both gazed at Mark as if he had lost his mind when he had desperately tried to explain about the two hunters. The man then ordered Mark to stop his babbling and threatened to punch his lights out if he did not stop scaring the woman.

  Mark kept his eyes shut tight, not wanting to look again at the scene that had assaulted his eyes when he first barged into this apartment. He had repeated his warning to the next person he had found. The resident maintenance man had responded by calling him a bloody liar and chased Mark across two floors.

  “Nigel was right, no one here wants to face reality.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at the gutted corpse tied to the chair in the next room. How the hell had he managed to end up in here? This had to be where those two psychos had holed up while they hid in plain sight. He didn’t bother trying to work out the chances of him landing right in the wolves den.

  He would like to see the look on that maintenance man's face as he stared at the remains of that poor man. Let's see him look at that and then call Mark a bloody liar. If he ever did see this, that man would probably end up shouting out for his mother before throwing up all over his dirty brown shoes.

  Mark felt a little queasy himself. He finally peeled himself away from the wall that he had been hugging.

  He threw a blanket over the gnarled body and walked over to the door. He knew that there was no way he could stay there. He remembered the baby and felt like a complete shit for even entertaining the thought of wanting to leave with Nigel.

  Mark opened the front door and looked out into the hallway. Everything looked completely normal. It was all so quiet. He did not understand any of these goings on. He wondered if the hunters had stayed in the garage.

  From the silence, he heard an ear-piercing scream. His heart dropped into his stomach. The maintenance man turned the corner, and looked at Mark, his expression filled with apprehension. Mark held back the urge to dance around and shout 'I told you so' right in the man's face.

  “Please tell me I didn’t hear that.”

  The man marched over to Mark, his face changing from disbelief to anger.

  “Oh, I get it now. That’s your geeky pal screaming.”

  Mark could not believe what he was hearing. Just how had this clown managed to stay alive? He retreated to the apartment door, watching him get closer.

  “Fuck, I’m right, I know I am.” He forced his way into the apartment. “You two down there always thinking you're better than us, you do! Well, I think you need someone to teach you a lesson. I’m going to enjoy beating you to a pulp.”

  Mark stumbled backwards before he turned and ran into the other room. He grabbed the cover and pulled it off the body.

  “Shit, man. Does this look like a fucking prank to you?”

  The maintenance man stopped dead and fell to his knees, muttering a serious of meaningless sounds that might possibly have been words.

  Mark found this reaction most unexpected and somewhat dissatisfying. He looked down at the blubbering man and noticed that his uniform had the same logo as the tower block itself. He had never noticed that before.

  Mark threw the blanket back over the corpse. This slobbering idiot has probably never left the apartment, never had to experience the outbreak first hand. He had only witnessed it through the windows, a detached outlook, like watching a disaster unfold on the television.

  “Get to the nearest fire-exit,” Mark said to the man, leaning in close to his face. “And tell anyone you meet to do the same. I hope you have better luck than I did.”

  The man looked at Mark as he got to is feet, his face set hard.

  “What about you, lad?” The man looked over at the blanket and shuddered. He walked up to Mark.

  “You could have left here and yet you chose to stay.” The man then looked at the ragged bits of meat stuck to the pine floor. “You won’t be leaving will you?”

  Mark shook his head. “No, I need to find the kid.”

  “You ain’t going to do that alone. That I can tell you,” he growled, spinning and hurrying into the kitchen.

  Mark followed him, curious as to what he was doing. The man emerged from the kitchen, holding two large knives.

  “I knew that there was something not quite right with those two,” he muttered, handing Mark one of the knives.

  “I hope you’re not actually thinking of tackling those two psychopaths?”

  The man gazed at Mark for a couple of seconds.

  “I’ve looked after this building for a full year all by myself.” He pointed to the window. “Just look out there, scientist. The city is falling to shit. In a few more years, only rotting shells of buildings will be left. Those things will pull me apart, knife or no knife. Of course I’m fucking leaving."

  It surprised Mark to see tears running down the man’s cheeks.

  They ran out into the corridor, looking into each other’s terrified eyes when another terrible scream blasted out of nowhere. Mark shuddered as he noticed movement at the end of the hallway.

  “Oh no,” he muttered, looking at two people crouched over a couple of prone figures. The maintenance man raced over, sighing, Mark followed him down.

  One of the figures leaning against the wall slowly closed his eyes. Mark spotted a huge chunk of flesh missing from his cheek.

  "Move away, now," Mark told the kneeling pair, panic in his voice.

  They both look at the maintenance man, completely blanking Mark.

  “We need to get him to Doctor Roberts,” the woman said, tears streaming from her eyes.

  “Were you born stupid, or did it come later?” Mark screamed at her. “He’s fucking infected. How is the vet going to help?”

  “This is all your fault!” the man shouted at Mark, getting to his feet.

  Mark watched as the bleeding man slowly lifted his head and looked around with blank eyes.

  “He’s dead.” Mark gasped, stumbling back. “Come on, move it, we have to go!”

  The dead man lunged forward and sank his teeth into the woman’s hand. She screamed out in pain and surprise.

  The maintenance man ran forward and slammed his blade into the dead man�
�s eye socket without hesitation. Pulling the knife out, he ran to the exit with Mark right behind him.

  Mark’s knife slipped from his fingers. He yelped when it hit the floor. The maintenance man scooped it up and pushed Mark over to the door. He grabbed the uninjured man that stood plastered against the wall with an expression of horror on his face, and pulled him back.

  “Do you want to live?” he shouted into the man's face.

  He leaned over and pushed his blade into the crying woman’s ear. He looked back at the man and nodded.

  “Infected means dead.”

  The trio raced down the stairs to the lower level. Once they reached the next landing, the maintenance man turned to the other man and looked at him somberly.

  "The nearest fire-exit is just down the next flight of stairs. Tell anyone you meet.”

  The man nodded and took off running. He obviously had no desire to be anywhere near Mark and his new friend.

  Mark listened to the multiple moans coming from all around them.

  "I don’t think there are many living left in the block. The hunters must have split up.” Mark watched as the man ran down the stairs. “Wait! Have you seen Diane?”

  “Andy has her,” he shouted back without slowing. “They were in the canteen.”

  With that, the man is gone.

  “Scientist, will you be able to use that knife?”

  Mark slowly nodded. His eyes watched the blood dripping from the other man’s knife.

  “I helped to clear the tower block of infected last year. I had two others helping me, neither of them made it.”

  Mark gripped the knife. “I’m aware of the danger,” he whispered. “I’m here aren’t I? My name is Mark, by the way.”

  "Clancy."

  "Good to meet you," Mark said, and both men let out nervous laughs.

  He heard the door open below and the man crying out in surprise, his voice drowned under the moans of the dead.

  Clancy grabbed the fire door and opened it slowly.

  “Clear.” He pulled open the door the rest of the way.